#broke out the camera and took more photos so will work on those

[patrickztump]

it snew :)

[bunny-jpeg]

the jailbird

prisoner!simon 'ghost' riley

a full fic based on this post

cw: prison!au, civilian!reader, pen-pals, smut,romance/romantic!simon, domestic, missonary, wife kink, size kink, nudity, tattoo kink, body worship, cuddling

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own! reblogs are always welcomed!

it started out as a flyer at the bus stop near your house. it was for a service that connected prisoners at a nearby prison with civilians as pen-pals. you had seen the flyer often over the course of work as you went to work.

you honestly felt bad, those people must be isolated. the organization prided itself on giving prisoners a bit of their humanity back by not cutting them off from those on the outside. so on a rainy friday you took a photo of the flyer and filled out the form on the organization's website.

that was how you met simon riley, or as he was called on the inside 'ghost'. what caught your attention wasn't his face scar that ran from under his nose down to the left side of his chin, but rather his brown eyes. how intense they stared into the camera. it was almost intimidating.

but you kept the photo on your desk as you typed out your first letter to send to him. you heard of places who did it through email, but screen time for those could often be limited and to send a physical letter would ensure that it would be sent to them.

the letter started out simple, you asked how he was and if it was okay to ask what he was in prison for. you asked him other questions, like if his health was doing well, what did he do most days while on the inside. you ended the letter with a little information about yourself.

you thought it would be nice to take a few photos and print them out on photo paper to be included with your letter. just so he had a better idea of who he was talking about. once you tweaked the letter with a bit of editing, you printed it out and thanks to the Royal Mail, your letter was sent to him.

you didn't actually expect for him to respond. nor did you expect for the letter to be do detailed. it was almost three pages double sided in neat hand writing. your eyes went wide when you saw the thickness of the envelope with the stamp of approval from the prison for it to be sent to you.

simon sent you a bracelet made of string that had been braided together. he said you were the first person from the outside to reach out since he got locked up. that broke your heart. it only broke further the more you read.

he was a military man who was tossed aside once the ptsd got too intense. he had been between jobs, and it felt like everything was just too much for him. he got wrapped up in large scale theft, while it paid good, you could only rob so many banks before it all caught up. he had been in for three years now, he was thankful it wasn't a life sentence. not much was stolen, and there was minimal violence. he said that his stature alone intimidated enough people that he didn't need to be violent.

you re-read his letters and it wouldn't be until almost six months of speaking that you finally wore the bracelet. when he said, "i want to see you in it, since i can't buy you a ring." you sent a photo of you wearing it and since then you hadn't taken it off.

the letters were nice, you sent them at least twice a week. even though you two had never met face to face, and the only photos you had of him were mugshots, he knew all the gossip in your work place. he knew the names of all your friends, your favourite saturday night treat and how you took your coffee.

he told you he'd be happy to make you coffee every morning before you went to work. that comment made your cheeks burn.

he often called you his 'wife' to the other prisoners. he had your photos on the wall near his bunk. he even kept the pictures where you looked terrible after you tried to cut your bangs one night. he knew the exact location of where your favourite take out was. he said that he was writing down ideas of where to take you once he got out. "i gotta make the missus feel special."

he even made you a birthday card. his cellmate 'soap' even signed it. you knew all about the explosives expert mactavish. when you looked into his case on the news, your eyes went a little wide. this guy was.. something.

simon did admit that 'soap' had a bit of a crush on you. but he said that 'johnny' was harmless and probably just liked the photo of a woman in the cell.

"he hurt ya, there will be no cell that could keep me from killin' him. no god either."

simon remembered everything.

the way he spoke about you and to you in his letters were nothing but soft. while he had to put on a tough guy exterior, his letters were filled with gentle words. like when he wrote out that he loved you in big text on a spare piece of paper so you could tape it on your mirror to look at every morning.

"i want to be what you get ready to."

"i want to be with you when you wake up."

"i want to come home to you every night. please make me an honest man."

you knew he was a trained killer. he was in special forces before his brief stint as a criminal. he was trained to kill, but in the margins of your letters, his love shined through. despite it all, he was capable of love.

and he wanted to pour all that love into you, his (future) wife.

you two would go on to write letters every week, for almost two years. when you got the letter from him asking if he could put you down as a permanent address when he got out, you cried. of course!

it was a cold spring morning, the sky was misty as you stood outside the gates of the prison. your heart raced, you even arrived early in the hopes he'd be released sooner.

and then you saw him.

those eyes. hard and stern, until he caught sight of you. his shoulder visibly dropped and his pace quickened as he made his way towards you. before you could step forward to meet him, he had you in his arms. his strong arms, littered with tattoos, wrapped around you as he held you close to his strong chest.

you held onto him as the air left your chest from the force he held you. you clutched onto his shoulders and choked out a sob. you squeaked, "holy shit."

he pulled away from you, but still kept you in his arms. you swore you saw minimal mistiness in his eyes. he reached to cup your face. he said quietly, "soft... like i imagined."

you beamed up at him, "of course, si."

"your voice is so nice." he groaned as he then pulled you close once more and buried his nose in your hair. he inhaled the scent of your shampoo and relaxed, "i'm home."

you thought transitioning from being the only person in the flat, to having this hulking, strong man in your home as well, was going to be a bit hard. but that didn't matter when simon got you through the door. his hands were on you, he promised on the universe that he'd romance you tomorrow.

but tonight was just going to be the two of you.

you managed to get his hands off you in order to get your shoes off before you led him to your bedroom. he was close behind you, he had a hand on one of your hips. he wanted to be as close to you as he could, you two had spent enough time apart.

you couldn't even close the bedroom door before he was pulling at the waistband on your pants. his calloused, strong hands felt delicate on you. it was like he was going to break you and he had to be as delicate as possible.

"si."

"i know, darling." he said quietly as he started to undress you. with your help the both of you were soon nude in the afternoon light in your bedroom. you tried to cover your chest with your arms but he pulled your arms away and looked at you.

your eyes met and you got up on your tip-toes to kiss him gently on the lips. soon he picked you up like you weighed less than a bag of potatoes.

he placed you on the bed gently when you half expected him to toss you like a shot-put. he admired your body down on your soft covers and soon got onto the bed too.

you reached for him as he pulled you into a tight kiss. his lips were chapped and you could tease the fresh skin underneath. your nails raked at his strong back, that you knew was covered in tattoos.

you wrapped your legs around him and held him. from a moment he dropped to his side and you two held each other. you tucked his head under your chin as you laid together naked.

it wasn't even meant to be sexually stimulating, you both just wanted to feel one another. to hear your lover's heartbeat meant more to you than anything in that moment.

you kissed the top of his head, you felt his blond hair against your face as you soaked in his warmth. you could almost cry from how nice it felt to be so close to him.

after everything, you had your man.

he said in his low tone, "you feel so soft. after everything, i have you. you made every day in the can worth it." he sighed, "thank you." he kissed at your bare chest.

you replied, "i loved your letters, i have them still." you chuckled, "i didn't want to throw any of them away. it made me feel closer."

"well. i'm not goin' anywhere." he looked up at you and smiled, "you're home and i'm finally here." he pulled away and got him between your legs. he rested on his knees and carefully moved you to his liking. he sat there between your legs and waited for your command.

you looked at him and nodded, "yeah, si. you can go." then tightened your legs around your lover. you held your breath as he slowly pushed his cock into you. you didn't realize how big it was until he was fully inside of you.

"are you alright, love?"

"golden."

the two of you moved together. it took a little bit to get used to the size, but the pressure and speed of his movements made heat spread through your body. like two pieces of the same puzzle, you fit together perfect soon after. it was like you two were always meant to be.

you felt so loved by him, it was so sweet. this was your first time with him and you only had a few sexual experiences with others prior to him. but the entire time you knew each other you didn't sleep with others, you wanted to wait for your man.

"that's my good wife." he groaned as he held onto your hips, "i know, you wanted this for a long time. i bet you thought about me when i was locked up."

you blushed and replied, "i did, si. i thought about you all the time, i even had your picture in my office. i wanted this, i wanted to be with you!" you whined a little as his cock dragged against a sensitive spot.

he chuckled softly, "yeah. i thought about my missus when i was locked up. i used to jerk off to your letters, your photos. messed one of 'em up by gettin' my spunk all over it." he licked his lips, "but now i can see it every day in person."

you smiled when he rested his body against you and continued to thrust up into you. you felt the curl of pleasure of your gut get together which each of his heavy thrusts.

the kisses you shared were intimate and hot. the air of your bedroom was warmed as you made love on the bed you would share together. your soft noises together filled the air.

you clenched onto him, you dug your nails into his shoulders. they were so strong and broad that they were much bigger than your hands.

he kissed you one last time as he quickened his pace. the bed moved against your movements as you both climaxed at the same time. it was like a shock to the system, the heightened euphoria before your head felt full of cotton.

you let out a soft groan as your grip on his loosened and you relaxed into the bed. you felt yourself partially get crushed by your lover but he gave a few more earnest thrusts as he made sure that his cum shot to the back of your womb.

he pulled out and dropped beside you. he tucked some hair behind your ear and wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand. your breathing was heavy, but you were both so happy. to share your first time together felt so special.

you nestled yourself into his arms and held his hand. you exhaled contently then said, "my husband."

he kissed the top of your head, he felt complete, "my missus."

part two

[lavnder311]

The Tides of Temptation

Female reader during ovulation week??? Oh I think so.

Warnings: suggestive topics, female reader being feral for her husband, husband Nanami, mentions of ovulation, feeling horny. Not proofread, female reader x Nanami.

———————————————————————————

You looked at the time on your phone, sighing in disappointment when realizing it was still 30 minutes before your lover came home from work.

You get up from the sofa and make your way to the kitchen, trying to find a way to distract yourself or make the time pass by. All that was on your mind was the way his biceps flexed when he lifted you with ease, the way his veins popped out when he held a knife, cutting something as simple as fruit.

The way his thick fingers flipped a page of a book he was reading, the look on his face when he was concentrated, his jawline ever so prominent as he fixated on his baked bread.

Those same fingers that were knuckle deep in you the other night, the same arms that held you down as he hovered over your frame, those same long, blueish greenish veins on his di-

You shouldn’t be thinking this, no, you definitely shouldn’t. You took a piece of bread your lover had made earlier in the day, taking a piece of it into your mouth, savoring the taste. When had you gotten so worked up?

Alas, nothing you did would erase the intruding thoughts that were in your mind, replaying the events that occurred a couple nights ago. You sigh, looking at the time once more and rolling your eyes when seeing it had only been 13 minutes that passed. You go back onto the sofa, looking through your phone to find another way to distract yourself.

Yet, you found yourself going through your camera roll, full of pictures of your lover. It didn’t help that his muscular and large build were evident in almost every photo, making it hard for you to compose yourself.

You squeeze your thighs together, replaying visions of his eyes on you as you squirmed under his touch, his hands on your thighs slowly making their way to your sensitive spots, his lips kissing your neck as you moaned in pleasure.

Being so lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear your lover come through the front door.

“Darling, are you well?” His deep voice sounded through the silence, pulling you out of your mind and in reality. You look up at him with wide eyes, almost embarrassed he caught you in such state.

“Ken! You’re home!” You said with an unsteady voice, a grin on your face. Your cheeks were painted red from the embarrassment, and the nervous laugh that escaped your lips didn’t help you.

“Hello, love.” He said, slightly raising a brow as he pulled you into his embrace. His scent was so manly, and his large frame in comparison to yours wasn’t helping your case. “Darling, what’s getting you so worked up?” He asked, looking down at his watch.

“I’m okay, hon.” You lied, shifting yourself in his arms with unease, attempting to hide the wet spot in between your legs. “I was just.. thinking.”

He knew something was up, of course he did- he knows you too well- and pulled back from the embrace, still holding onto your frame as he looked into your eyes, examining you.

“Darling, I have a suspicion there’s something going on in that head of yours,” he said, bringing you in for a kiss on your temple. “don’t expect me to think I don’t know this behavior.” He finished, teasing you with a smile.

He pulled out his phone, looking at the date, then softly smiled, knowing full and well exactly why you were acting odd. When he looked back into your eyes, he moved his hands from your shoulders to your waist, slowly bringing you in as he never broke eye contact.

“Honey, if you’re ovulating, why didn’t you bring your thoughts to me sooner?” He brought a hand to your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He slowly moved closer to you as his eyes were on your lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know I have no issue addressing your thoughts.” He finished, kissing you instantly.

“K-Kento.” You cried out, almost begging him to continue. That look in his eyes told you all you needed to know, allowing him to completely take over.

“Don’t worry, love. Why don’t I fix us some dinner and I’ll handle the rest after, hmm?” He said, bringing his hand through your hair, moving a piece away from your face and smiled down at you.

Safe to say, you were well taken care of that night after he prepared you both a fancy dinner, in the comfort of your shared bed.

———————————————————————————

Ugh idk I’m lowkey scared to full on write smut but here’s a step towards that. Anyways I hope you enjoyed 🩷

[starkeyslibrary]

FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 3

pairing: you x drew starkey

The night Drew came back from his so-called “night out with the boys”, the tension was thick in the apartment. The sound of the front door creaking open felt like a bomb going off. You had been sitting on the couch for the last hour, alternatives between staring at your phone and looking out the window, hoping that something – anything – would make the ache in your chest fade. But the pain only deepened, and as the door clicked closed behind him, your stomach churned in a mix for dread and anger.

Drew walked in, his usual confident stride slowing when he saw you sitting there. There was a slight hesitation in his step, a quiet sign that he knew something was off. His eyes immediately darted to you, a mix of concern and something else that you couldn’t quite read. But the moment he stepped further into the room, your frustration broke free.

You didn’t even give him a chance to greet you, the words spilling out before he could say a word. “You’re late,” you said, your voice flat but filled with an edge he hadn’t heard in a long time.

Drew stopped in his tracks, glancing at his watch. “I told you, it was just a night out with the guys. Nothing big.” He said, his tone light, almost too casual. But you saw right through it. His words didn’t feel genuine anymore. You had heard the excuses before, and they were getting old.

You stood up, not wanting to be so passive about it anymore. “A night out with the guys? Really? That’s what you’re going with?” The bitterness in your voice caught you off guard, but there was no going back now.

Drew looked taken aback by the sharpness in your voice. “What’s going on, y/n?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “You’ve been acting strange ever since you saw those photos.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unable to contain the words that had been bubbling up inside for days. “Yeah, I saw the photos, Drew. You and Odessa. Out in public again. Walking around like everything is fine. What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He opened his mouth to explain, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“No. Don’t you dare try to explain it away. I’m not stupid. I can see exactly what’s going on.” You could feel the anger rising in your chest, a mix of hurt and frustration that you couldn’t keep bottled up any longer. “You’re out with her, looking all cozy, like she’s the one you want. Not me. And I just … I don’t get it. You told me it was all fake, just for the cameras, but I can’t keep pretending that I believe you.”

Drew’s face hardened, and the disappointment in his eyes stung more than anything. He took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his cool, but you saw the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re making something out of nothing. It’s just part of the job, I swear. She’s just a co-star, and this is all for publicity. You know that. I thought you understood that.”

“Understand?” you laughed bitterly, but the sound came out more like a sob. “You think I understand? You think I’m supposed to just sit here and watch you with her while pretending like everything is fine? No, Drew. I can’t do that. I can’t keep pretending that this isn’t hurting me. That I’m not losing you, piece by piece.”

Drew stepped closer to you, his expression softening as if trying to reach you, but you were too far gone. Too far past the point of no return.

“I’m trying okay?” His voice cracked slightly, and for a moment, you thought he was being honest, but it didn’t change anything. “I’m trying to make this work, but this whole thing is a mess. I never wanted it to be like this.”

You shook your head, feeling the sting of his words like a slap across your face. “Make it work? How do you expect me to trust you when I see you out there with her, smiling like nothing’s wrong? How do you expect me to keep believing you when I know that every word you’ve said about us was just...  just a lie?”

Drew’s face darkened at your accusation, his voice rising as the frustration that had been simmering inside him for days boiled over. “I’m not lying to you, Y/N! I never wanted this to happen either, but this is the way things are right now. I’m doing what I have to do, for both of us.”

“For both of us?” you scoffed, the tears that had been building in your eyes finally breaking free. “This is for you, Drew. It’s always been for you. For your career, for your image. And I’m just supposed to sit here and be okay with it? You’re asking me to pretend like I’m okay with being second to her, to everything you’re doing for the cameras. You know what, Drew? I can’t do that anymore. I’m done pretending.”

There was a long, tense silence between you, both of you staring at each other as if trying to make sense of the chaos you had created. Drew ran a hand through his hair, his expression pained but you were beyond caring. You had tried so hard to hold on, to believe him and in what you had, but every day felt like a betrayal.

You stepped back, your voice barely a whisper. “I can’t trust you anymore, Drew. Not after everything. You’ve lied to me over and over, and I don’t even know who you are anymore. I’m not going to keep living in this lie, this lie that both of you have created for the world.”

Drew looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he just closed his eyes, the weight of your words crashing over him. He didn’t speak for a long moment, and for the first time, you realized he was just as lost as you were. But that didn’t change the fact it was too late.

Without another word, you grabbed your jacket, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t know where you were going, but you couldn’t stay in that apartment with him. Not like this. You needed space, you needed to breathe.

You walked the streets aimlessly, tears still wet on your cheeks as the cold air bit at your skin. Every step felt like a weight, each one dragging you further from the man you thought you knew. The city lights flickered in the distance, but they did nothing to brighten the darkness in your heart.

You didn’t even know how far you had walked until you found yourself standing in front of a quiet park by the water. The silence felt both comforting and unbearable, as if the world around you had completely disappeared. You collapsed onto a bench, hugging your arms to your chest to stave off the cold, but it did little to ease the storm inside of you.

The moments from earlier replayed in your mind – the fight, Drew’s words, your own pain – and all you could do was sit there and feel the weight of it all.

That’s when the flash of camera lights caught your attention.

At first, you didn’t react, too numb to care about the photographers who had followed you. But then, the flashes intensified. You wiped your face quickly, but it didn’t stop them. The tears you had tried to hide were now on full display, and you felt like your privacy, your pain was being exposed to the world.

“Y/N! Over here! A little smile for us!” A photographer called out, but you couldn’t. You didn’t have the strength to smile, not when everything felt so broken.

Your heart thudded in your chest as more flashes went off, capturing the raw emotion on your face – the hurt, the betrayal, the confusion. You could hear their voices, the jarring sound of camera clicks, as they shouted for you to look at the camera. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to perform for them. Not anymore.

You turned away, trying to escape their prying eyes, but you knew it was futile. The pictures will be everywhere tomorrow. The world would see you in this vulnerable state, and it felt like another punch to the gut.

You couldn’t stop the tears now. You couldn’t stop the feeling of being exposed, of being broke, of being so utterly alone in a world that seemed to move on without you.

A/N: please don’t hate me LOL😭

TAGLIST: @princesspeach124 @idiotussupremus @eitaababe @13tter @drewsephrry @drewstarkeyzwhore @cooper8224 @maybankslover @elyseesarchive @ietss @esquivelbianca @josephandrewstarkey @willowpains @wtfdudesblog @purplerose291

[olgiisworld]

The interview // Choi Seungcheol

summary; you and Seungcheol have been a public couple on the media, both of you big artists, him being the leader of the group named Seventeen. Things have been a little rough lately due to lack of communication. You're invited to talk on a podcast about your recent achievements, but when your personal life is mentioned as a topic, you get bitter, and you don't manage to hide it. But how about the consequences?

Y/n x Seungcheol of Seventeen, genre: angst, frustration and unfairness with a hint of fluff in the end.

Word Count; 4,476 (oopsie)

Warnings; swearing

note; it took me months to finish this (mostly because of loss of inspiration, so you might notice inconsistency), but it's nothing special. Although you might like it :) I'd love to see comments! thank you for your support on my Beomgyu one-shot <3 smoochies ♡

it's been a while i've felt like shit. it's been a while i've felt more welcome to talk to the wall than talking to Seungcheol.

talking to Seungcheol seemed so hard for some reason. all we've been doing is fighting or ignoring each other. and that would be okay, if we didn't have each other's house keys.

it is hard to maintain a relationship that happened to go public, when none of you planned it. both me and Seungcheol being public figures really sat bad, especially with his constant need of privacy.

but it is hard. we can't just not leave the house.

that's mostly the reason we've been fighting.

everyday was a circle.

i return back to his apartment, where we had a silent agreement to meet everyday after work. my body and mind exhausted from all the work i've put in the studio. frustration seeping through my body, because of the disagreements i've had with the rest of my colleagues. concern, pain, fatigue, everything coming together, creating this unpleasant expression on my face. i know i seem cold.

but he just sits there. slumped on his couch. eyes fixed on the familiar black box. he cares enough to say "hey, how's work?", but not enough to ask about how I am. so i just shrug my shoulders and walk past him.

that's my life with my 'oh-so-wanted' boyfriend.

i'm a starved woman.

starved from love, from affection, from tenderness, from touch.

just touch.

his touch.

he hasn't touched me in god knows how long. all i get are dead kisses.

the repetition of each day made me feel angry, frustrated, pained, disappointed. made me feel like i was not worthy of him.

and the worst thing is that i cannot communicate my thoughts with the person i love.

he seems so stressed with his upcoming tour, that giving him one more reason to yell will only break him.

so i suffered in silence.

last week's fight was interesting.

a photo of us shopping together started making its way around social media. Seungcheol hated social media. and we both looked quite miserable in the photos, but i don't know if he noticed.

he yelled at me for not being careful enough.

apparently, i was the reason they saw us and they took those fucking pictures. like i enjoy being on strangers' camera rolls.

and i yelled back.

and we fought.

again.

damn it.

i cried so hard and he didn't even try to comfort me.

he didn't even touch me.

he didn't.

he didn't try to reach out.

he wouldn't even touch my hand by mistake.

i was so fed up.

so fed up of not feeling desired by the only person i loved..

the week passed, the same circle repeating itself.

i started going back to my house after work. Seungcheol didn't even try to ask why. he only said "i get that you might need space".

I am the one who needs the space?

i didn't even argue back. i knew where this was going and i felt like i was finally ready.

today, i had an interview.

nothing huge, just a small podcast. friendly podcast.

i wore comfortable clothes and hid my fatigue behind foundation and blush. i was okay with pretending like everything was fine.

it only broke my heart that people assumed "i am the happiest i've ever been". because people can only make assumptions. people only see the pictures. people only see the smiles, the kisses. or even the fatigue. but, "oh, everything is okay, she's got her man".

but what about Seuncheol?

people saw that he was stressed. people saw that he's probably not happy. people really had the audacity to say "i'm not good enough for him"!

like, fuck they know? they know nothing

and he never said anything. he never addressed those comments.

why?

because he believes that "what people say are bullshit"

but it sounded more like i'm not worth a small clarification.

i grabbed my keys and phone, closed my door and headed to the podcast set up.

everything was really friendly.

Alex, a familiar face of mine, would host the show.

i've happened to meet her before, at after-parties and gatherings, so we had talked before. everything was comfortable.

the podcast started shortly after and the talk was great. we also had a drink and a girls' talk that actually helped me take my mind off of my stress.

at one point, she turned to look at me when i sipped a little of my drink.

"so, um, i just.. i wanted to ask a few things, i know you don't really talk about your personal life, and that's why the questions are quite.. generic? you know.. of course, you can tell me to stop"

i felt some concern wash over me, as to what the consequences of this conversation could be. but i shrugged it off with a soft chuckle as i fixed my posture, leaning a little closer to the microphone.

"no, don't worry about it, shoot"

she smiled and read the notes of her phone, taking a quick sip of her drink as well.

''so, what is it like to be in a relationship?"

she looked at me with a small smile.

and all i could do was huff, trying to find an adequate answer.

i leaned back to the microphone.

"honestly? really hard"

Alex shot an eyebrow up in surprise.

"really? why, girl? is it hard for two great artists to live up to everyone's expectations?''

she chuckled and i just shook my head in thought.

i tried to put my thoughts in a row. it's hard to express everything i feel to someone after being so.. alone.

but i felt frustrated and fed up at the moment.

i fidgeted a little on my seat.

"i don't know.. it's not like there are no hardships in a relationship anyway.. it's just.. you can't find a way out of a hardship without communication, or respect. or understanding. there are many elements that have to balance out the hardships of a relationship, you know? at least that's how i view it"

i shrugged, my implication clear.

Alex caught my glimpse.

she nodded and looked at her phone shortly.

"that is really interesting, but everything can work out with love and patience"

i nodded, my smile a little bitter

"i guess.. i can't really tell you"

she tried to play it off with a small chuckle and i forced a smile

"i know you guys don't talk about your relationship, and privacy request is respected. but, not even posting moments on social media.. that's amazing. i actually admire that. it shows how strong your bond can be."

i chuckled, bitterness lingering on my laugh.

"not really. i wouldn't mind posting a picture or two. privacy is very much needed, but it's not like we have something to hide, or something to be so private about.. anyway, i really don't think it's that serious. but everyone has their own point of view."

she nodded, not wanting to pry on the matter, since she noticed my uneasiness.

she read of her notes again.

"does he inspire you to write?'

the question felt like a stab to the heart.

i couldn't say 'he used to'

and i couldn't say 'no' either

but i didn't want to lie.

i took a deep breath, trying to collect my words. i leaned on the microphone one more time.

"i don't really get inspired by real people.. mostly fictional characters, fictional situations.. nothing real. i used to find material from real life but.. i guess, my style changed"

i shrugged and forced a chuckle, trying to shake the feeling off.

Alex nodded and put a smile on her face.

"alright then, let's move on.."

i let out a breath i didn't even know i was holding. i took a sip of my drink, feeling quite relieved that we moved on from that topic.

the rest of the podcast went great, but i was tired and i couldn't wait for it to end.

as soon as we were done, i shook hands with Alex, she informed me about the slight editing she wanted to do, she thanked me and i thanked her back. she said that the episode would be out by the end of the week. i smiled and thanked her for having me. and i left.

i returned to my miserable apartment. the silence defeaning.

i hadn't seen Seungcheol in a week, but he didn't really seem to care.

i just left my shoes and coat next to the couch. i had lost my appetite completely.

i sat on the couch and took my phone in my hand.

i checked some of my messages and i saw Seungcheol's name among the notifications.

'Hey, is everything okay'

again.

not how I am. not if I am okay.

he really didn't give a damn about me.

i texted back a 'fine, no worries' and threw my phone at the end of the couch.

i started crying.

the only thing that comforted me was the sound of my own crying.

i hugged my arms around me and fell back on the couch. i was lost. i needed navigation. and he couldn't fucking give it to me.

[...]

Friday.

i headed back to my car after a long exhausting session at the studio. once i fastened my seatbelt, i grabbed my phone to check on some missed calls. a notification came in, saying that my podcast with Alex was out. i smiled excitedly, and turned it on to listen on my way back home. i texted her shortly and i threw my phone next to my driver's seat. i just concentrated on the road, the podcast being a pleasant background sound.

the drive back home was short, sadly. i just picked up my stuff, my phone still playing the podcast, as i walked back to my door.

i walked in, throwing my stuff on the couch, taking off my shoes and running to the kitchen, to grab some water.

when i walked in, i saw Seungcheol leaned against the counter, arms crossed on his chest, expression serious to mad.

my whole face went white when i saw him.

"fuck! you scared me.. what are you doing here?"

i was so shocked he was in my kitchen, probably more than i should, considering that he is my boyfriend.

he took a deep breath before i heard his voice.

"what the fuck? seriously. you're the one who's shocked here."

i looked around, confused by his words. i shrugged my shoulders.

"i guess.. i don't usually find you hiding in my house.. especially after not seeing you for a whole week.."

he scoffed. he didn't leave me any room for reaction.

"and you haven't even tried to reach out for a whole week.. but i guess, that's okay. relationships don't work without communication, like you said."

his words confused me even more.

i realized that what he quoted were my words on Alex's podcast. Now everything made sense.

i walked a little closer.

''are you seriously mad about this bullshit?''

his eyes widened

"bullshit? you say that calling me out is bullshit? telling EVEYONE how you feel, except from me, bullshit?''

my own eyes widened at his words

"what?"

his lips narrowed down, his madness more visible.

"what do you fucking mean with what? you literally let every fucking idiot know what's going on between us!"

he yelled

i looked at him in shock before processing to react with a scoff

"are you serious? what, how? by telling people that i'm having hardships in my relationship?"

he took a step closer

"you could have told me! me! not everyone! making everyone believe that we suffer!"

my head tilted in pure curiosity.

"which.. we don't?''

i asked, so simply.

he looked at me, his fingers running through his hair.

"that's not the point, the point is that you let everyone-"

i couldn't bear to listen so i yelled back

"i thought you didn't give a shit about what everyone thinks! you're such a hypocrite!"

he looked at me in shock

his eyes filled with disappointment.

"you literally implied that i don't love you."

my own eyes filled with anger and hurt.

"what do you fucking mean? you mean to tell me that i'm wrong? that everything is fine? that we don't fight every single time we try to talk? that we communicate just perfectly? that you don't ignore me? that you don't act like i am a stranger? no, i'm sorry, my mistake. you would touch a stranger, even if it was a fucking accident!"

he stayed there, in front of me, his face emotionless. he just heard what i said. or dogded my words, either way, he reacted the same.

"you implied that i don't fucking love you."

at this point, i felt helpless. fed up. rock-bottom. i just shook my head and let my tears slip from my eyes.

"Seungcheol, you don't love me. and i don't care. i have accepted it."

he cracked a hint of emotion, as he lightly flinched

"what are you even saying?"

i wiped my tears quickly.

"that you're a coward. that's what i'm saying."

he took a step closer, tilting his head confused.

"how am I a coward? you're the one who went and told everyone what we're going through! and you didn't even bother to tell ME something!"

i couldn't listen, i couldn't just stand there and listen.

I let out a cynical chuckle.

"and I thought you didn't even bother to watch my interviews.. guess i'm wrong"

I wiped my tears.

he seemed even more mad.

"of course I watch your stuff, but even if I didn't want to, everyone has been sending me this stupid podcast since it came out! everyone found a chance to make fun of me!"

i replied with the same anger.

"well, sorry, but you had to take a taste of your own medicine! do you even know what people say about us online?! do you? do you know what it's like to read that I'm not good enough for you, that I don't deserve you? do you even know how everyone fucking praises you, but all of them downgrade me? do you, Seungcheol? I've been living like this for the past 1 year and I never, ever complained to you about it. Because you always kept saying that YOU don't give a fuck about what people say! so fuck you, Cheol!"

my tears were running like a river at this point, but the mad expression on his face was driving me insane. his eyebrows relaxed a bit.

I made a move to leave, not wanting to have another fight. but, something I wouldn't expect, he grabbed my wrist and stopped me.

i pulled my hand away.

"no! don't you fucking dare touch me now! I've had enough! enough! you hear me? you're so cheap! you're embarrassed that everyone knows about your relationship not working, but you don't even care enough to fix this mess! fucking coward.."

he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before he grabbed my wrist again.

he pulled me closer.

"I'm not a coward! I'm just.. stressed! really fucking stressed! and I know that you don't care-"

I stopped him.

"i don't care? I don't care?! are you stupid?!"

he tightened his grip on my wrist.

"how do you care?! you care and you don't even call me for a week? you care, but you don't tell me what's bothering you? instead, you go and talk about our problems in a podcast?"

i took a deep breath and looked at him, trying to remain calm.

"do you understand that it's easier to talk to the wall than it is talking to you?"

he swallowed down my words.

"what the fuck, y/n?"

i let out a deep breath.

i was on the verge of a mental breakdown, feeling like this conversation is the repetition of pointless yelling and arguments that were better understood by a wall.

i just shook my head, my expression full of disappointment.

"Seungcheol, i can't do this anymore."

his expression softened and he let go of my wrist, pulling his own hand back hesitantly.

his voice almost scared.

"what do you mean?"

i sighed softly, not able to hold back anymore. it was now or never. and i, unlike him, was not a coward. it was time to finally do it.

"it's not working... it can't.. it can't work... between us.."

my expectations were simple. him getting sad and disappointed or him not even caring enough to have a reaction. i surely not expected him to get mad at me, like he did.

"and you call me a coward?"

i looked at him confused. i didn't even find the chance to talk before he interrupted me.

"you're telling me that it's easier to talk to a wall, you go all out about me in a podcast, you don't text, you don't call, you don't care. and now you're breaking up with me? so, you actually don't love me."

i heard his words carefully before rolling my eyes in frustration, my reaction getting him more mad and he threw his hands in the air.

"love is not enough to hold a whole relationship up, okay-"

he yelled back, interrupting me.

"bullshit! and you know it! i love you, and i don't care if you can't see it, i care that i feel it though!"

my eyes widened slightly in shock but i managed to yell back.

"why don't you touch me?! why do you ignore me?! what have i done to you, how can you say that you love me?!"

he looked at me, his eyes mirroring the same frustration as mine did. but there was something else. the frustration was not towards me, it was towards himself.

"I don't know! i don't know! i don't know..."

his voice softened at the last 'i don't know', and i remained silent since he seemed to have a lot more to say. he let out a small sigh.

"I've been really really really stressed. really stressed. we're on the verge of canceling a world tour, our manager keeps telling us that he wants to quit, and we've lost a lot of money because of a merch company that happened to be frauds."

my mouth opened in shock at his confession.

Seungcheol never told me about any of these.

i was trying to find a reaction but i couldn't find it. so he talked instead.

"and you breaking up with me is the cherry on top. i know that i can't defend myself, and i won't sound pathetic enough to beg you to stay. if you want to leave me, it's fine. for you. i can't tie you down anyway."

his voice came out small, weak, pathetic, like he was scared to be perceived.

i managed to get my voice out.

"why didn't you say anything?"

he looked into my eyes, dead serious as he quoted me.

"do you understand that it's easier to talk to the wall than it is talking to you?"

i clenched my jaw, feeling anger instead of sympathy building up. i hit his chest, without thinking much, but he didn't even flinch. his eyes simply pierced through me.

"you're not capable of even admitting that you need me? really? i hate you!"

i felt fed up with my own self, pathetic with how miserable i was and felt. i was sad. my whole life was sad. i built a whole career that seemed to be drowning me. and my words didn't even shake his poker face.

tears streamed down my face and i couldn't control my sobs. even if i sounded pathetic, at least i was honest to my feelings.

i knew i was the reason we couldn't communicate now that we found a chance, but i was feeling too depressed to even try it.

there had been many chances in the past, and since nothing worked, this wouldn't work either. i simply cried.

he looked down for a moment, the straight line of his lips unwavering. he took a deep breath, sighing softly through his nose. i put a few strands of my hair behind my ear, while my tears were falling down like a waterfall.

i wiped as many as i could.

i knew that nothing could shake or top the tension my three simple words just created.

or at least that's what i thought, before he grabbed my chin and he kissed me.

my crying eyes opened in shock, his hand holding my lips close as his other arm creeped around me, pulling me into his embrace. the shock wouldn't let me kiss back, and i felt like he used my vulnerability to his advantage.

i felt frustrated, confused, and i pulled my head back since he held me close by my waist, trapping my hands on his chest, the feeling both new and familiar.

"i said i hate you!"

"oh shut up.."

he simply replied before pulling me back into a kiss, a hundred times more passionate than the first one. it was the first time in months that he kissed me with so much emotion. i could feel it. i could feel that he meant it. his other arm wrapped around me as well and he held me close, months after our last hug. and his embrace was so warm and nostalgic. my mind drifted to the memories of our first dates and my lips started moving against his, by instict.

my hands gently tugged on his shirt, the tears in my eyes stopping.

i felt warm.

and i hadn't felt warm like this since forever.

he kissed me with so much meaning and passion, like i would disappear if he'd let go..

after a moment, his lips moved to my jawline, placing gentle kisses along the line of it towards the spot below my ear. he placed soft kisses on my neck and his hands moved up and down my back, touching me gently. re-exploring me.

opening old wounds.

my breath became a little heavier as my mind traveled with his touch. the feeling was so new, yet so familiar to me.

i wasn't sure of what to say, how to talk.

he touched me after god knows how long.

i heard his voice, his breath tingling my neck.

"i'm so stupid.."

he simply said, but i didn't have an answer. not an an argument. he placed soft kisses on my neck, his hands traveling down my body.

"i need you so bad.. i need all of you.. in my life, forever, and right now.."

he whispered, sending chills down my spine. i haven't heard him talk like that, probably never.

"i need you right now, i love you.. i love you so much.."

he kissed my lips, his words felt like heavy prayers.

i looked into his eyes, feeling the vulnerability reaching the ceiling.

he kissed my face gently, placing a strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek.

"you're the only tranquilizer i'll ever need.. i'm so sorry for never seeing it.."

he kissed my lips gently again.

i was so lost that words wouldn't even dare to come out my mouth.

but he didn't expect anything from me. he simply poured his heart out, like he hadn't done in months.

"i've been so stressed out and closed off that i didn't realize what i was doing to the only person that could help me."

his hands explored my body like he was searching for undiscovered spots.

my mouth formed a soft pout, my eyes glistening.

he pressed another soft kiss on my pout.

"baby, i'm sorry. i love you. and i'm a dick that doesn't deserve you. and i know it. i'll respect your choice to leave me."

he pressed a kiss on my cheek like a final goodbye and he softly unwrapped his arms from my body, but my hands grabbed them, almost like an instict, and i wrapped them around me again.

i kissed his lips a little more aggressively than expected by the both of us actually, and my hands cupped his cheeks. he kissed me back, without restraints.

my hands ran through his hair, softly tugging on his locks.

i broke the kiss for a breath and i talked.

"you're so stupid"

he nodded quickly, feeling breathless.

"yes, i am"

i kissed him again and i mumbled against his lips

"so stupid"

he moved his lips with more hunger as he repeated

"so so stupid"

i pulled back briefly, my chest carrying my heavy breaths, my fingers tracing the softness of his hair, his skin, leaving fire to their wake. my eyes locked in his.

i shook my head gently, processing the overwhelming emotion in my heart. i finally managed to express it.

"i love you, but you hurt me so bad"

i saw his face twisting with guilt. i knew he wasn't in a better position with all the stress he carried, but Seungcheol never meant harm. he was always a good guy. that doesn't justify his actions and i knew that, but i felt every crumb of love for him resurrecting, just because of his touch.

he spoke softly, his hands gripping on my skin.

"i'm so sorry.. i'm so so sorry.. i'll respect it if you want to leave me.."

i covered his mouth quickly, his eyes looking into mine with surpise. i sniffled softly before talking.

"i won't leave, you idiot"

he pulled my hand down, his expression more surprised and confused.

"but why?"

i sniffled again, a hint of smile that hasn't appeared on my face in months made its way on my lips.

"because i've made a mental promise to myself. i'm always by your side when you need me."

his expression turned into a melted one, his lips finding my cheek and leaving a couple of soft, loving kisses.

"i love you. i'm so sorry.''

he spoke softly, resting his forehead in mine.

i sighed softly through my nose, my emotions twirling inside of me like crazy.

"i love you too."

i added, and i closed my eyes.

he did the same.

at that time, everything felt a little more sure than usual. i clinged to that hint of hope he expressed through his words of affirmation.

my hand caressed his back softly.

why does every relationship have to go through a rough patch that leaves a part of you dead right after? you know it won't be the same. the only thing that gives you hope is the love inside you that can't die down. and i felt it, in his hug. i felt a little more sure.

[sunny44]

Reunions on the track

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex best friend!reader

Warnings: fights

Summary: Charles and Y/n have known each other since they were five years old, but with the start of his motorsport career they lost touch.

Years later, when Charles was driving for Ferrari in Formula 1 and Y/n had a degree in photography, their paths crossed again when she was hired as the team's new photographer.

I was accustomed to the Formula 1 circus.

The roar of engines, the team's hustle and bustle, cameras always pointed in his direction. But on this sunny morning, I was surprised with something or someone to be more specific. I entered the Scuderia Ferrari pitlane and that’s when I saw her, with her back turned to him, skillfully handling a camera. Y/n. Her name echoed in his mind like an echo from the past.

I assumed from the camera in her hand that she had filled the vacancy at Ferrari.

"Are you kidding me?" Charles muttered, addressing Mattia Binotto, the head of the Ferrari team. "Is Y/n here?"

Mattia smiled, as if he knew this could cause turbulence.

“Surprise, Charles. She’s our new photographer. Y/n has an incredible eye for capturing the most intense moments of the races.”

I made an effort to control the flood of emotions rising in me. Me and Y/n had been inseparable friends since childhood, but we drifted apart over time, especially when my career in motorsport took off.

We hadn't spoken in years, and now she is here, on the same team as me.

Our friendship was perfect, we had known each other forever, and I remember our mothers saying that we would definitely get married if we just got older. Over time, I realized that I had feelings for her, and I was willing to wait until we were old enough and then confess my feelings to her. But then everything changed.

I started rapidly advancing through categories, and then I just stopped talking to her.

I stood there for a few minutes just looking at her until Y/n finally turned around, and their gazes met. It wasn't a warm and joyful reunion. On the contrary, there was a moment of tense silence before Y/n broke it.

"Charles Leclerc, the Ferrari golden boy." she said, with a sarcastic smile. "Who would have thought you'd become so famous, huh?"

Charles felt his face grow warm.

“Don’t start Y/n.”

"Don't start? You just disappear from my life when you started winning races, and I'm the one who can't say anything?"

I don't know why, but I didn't think she would be this hostile.

"I was busy, Y/n. You know how life is in F1."

"Busy or not, you could have found a way to stay in touch. But, of course, you had more important things to do than to care about me." She looked at me, hurt. "But who am I to blame you, right? After all, with fame and beautiful models hanging on your neck all the time, I wouldn't mean anything to you anyway."

Those words hit Charles like a punch in the stomach. He knew he had made mistakes, but he never imagined that Y/n was so hurt.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I should have been a better friend." She let out an exasperated sigh.

"It doesn't matter anymore. I'm here to do my job," she said sternly. "You just need to pretend that I mean nothing to you; I don't think it will be that difficult."

I simply nodded, realizing that the situation was far from resolved. While the engines roared in the background, indicating that I had to get into the car next.

And, of course, I spent the entire practice session thinking about how to have her back in my life.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername instagram stories

“First day of work done”

Y/n.jpg nstagram post

Liked by @lando.jpg, @Scuderiaferrari, @charlesleclerc and @maxverstappen

Y/n.jpg My dream came true and I’m in Monaco photographing the formula 1 Grand Prix

This is the best weekend of my life and here’s a few photos 🏎️

F1 welcome to the f1 family

Maxverstappen nice photos

Liked by y/n.jpg

Landonorris hello there

Carlossainz welcome to the team

Y/n.jpg thank you

[walkingzombiegirl]

how about some sexually frustrated banter with hange, the only other titan scientist behind the walls who you're always competing with when it comes to your research?

or flirty ellie who always gets on your nerves but in reality she's just a big loser and a science geek and that actually makes her kinda hot...

oorrrr knight abby who is devoted to your protection and the kingdom's so that is why she has put up with that bratty attitude until one day she finally snaps and calls you a brat and suddenly you're all flustered and that was almost all it took to have you spread out beneath her with her head lost between your legs. she could stay there for hours and be satisfied with just that .

anyway i have a huge thing for enemies to lovers and banter idk what's wrong with me 😭😭

━ 𝙂𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 - ellie williams x fem!reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 - Ellie and you are opposites, causing a bit of bickering that never seems to end. But when she has to go to her room before Dina gets back to find her wallet, she drags you along. However, it takes a more fun turn that you would've ever thought possible. Especially since you fucking hate her.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - cursing, bitchy!reader, flirting, slight alludes to previous sexual encounter between them, alludes to having sex at the end, scandalous figurine

𝗲𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘀 - sorry i disappeared if you couldn't tell by how badly this was written i haven't been feeling the best and been stressed about college! Also I am planning on writing the other two... slow roll.

"Did you buy all of these?" You asked glancing around her decked out room, in awe at how many figurines she had around the place. Practically stacked full, wall to wall was gaming posters, ones of various rock bands, some shows and cartoons you didn't recognize. Between those was shelves of comic books, and an overly messy deck scattered with work and drawings she quickly covered up.

"Yeah, that's how shopping works."

You glared at her, looking around at the room some more before spotting another shelf that had more little people. You smiled, picking up a lady that was wearing a rather scandalous outfit.

You nearly let a laugh escape, twirling her around in your fingers, her dress the same color as your nails. At that, it was promptly snatched from your fingers. A scoff falling from your lips.

"What? I was just looking." But when your eyes met her freckled face you noticed a light coat of pink dusted her cheeks. Her eyes rocketing around the room like she'd been told there was someone ready to kill her inside. "Don't touch anything." "Alright, alright." You huffed, putting your hands up in faux submission.

"Can I at least sit somewhere while I wait for you to do whatever the fuck you dragged me in here to do?" You asked, Ellie immediatley giving a glare and then pointing at the mattress with a tight face. The little hot lady still in her hand.

You couldn't help yourself, you peered at her, squinting to see past her fingers. Once she realized, however, the little lady hurriedly went flying over her shoulder and knocked against the desk.

"Hey!" You plopped down on the bed, the springs squeaking under your weight. "I just wanted to see her." "It's none of your business just wait a minute for me."

You didn't respond, instead watching her ruffle around in the top drawer of her dresser. But you couldn't help yourself, you turned around to look at the photo board you seen when you walked in, all of Dina, Jesse, and others like Abby and Nora.

Boring... until, wait?

"Is that me?" You then broke the silence, scooting up the bed to see a photo of you and Dina on the beach from last summer. You were both grinning at the camera and holding up beers. "That's from the night we-" "Yes."

You peered back to her, green irises staring into your soul as you met her eyes.

"You're a freak." "You look hot in that picture." By the look on her face you were probably number three in the amount of total girls she'd said that to. To their faces anyway. "You are such a nerd." You whispered, staring at her with an almost freakishly large grin on your face.

"You are a bitch." She then replied, her expression mirroring your own. "Says the perv with a picture of me on your wall in a bikini. Creep." "Says little miss 'let me see your doll's tits, Ellie'." She spoke, but didn't seem annoyed, instead, almost intrigued as you responded, "You own the doll!"

"Not for those reasons!" She spat, laughing halfway through the sentence. "Are you sure you don't fuck the doll, Ellie?" "You wish I did, it'd be the closest you've gotten to me in months." You sneered at that, biting your lip.

"You're so full of yourself." Ellie rolled her eyes. "Whatever." "Whatever? God you irritate the fuck out of me." You exclaimed, running your hands down your face with a groan. "You're in my room." "You told me to just to go with you."

There was a pregnant pause before,

"Please tell me you jack to the photo." "No!" She stared at you, making a face. "No." "You do!" "So what you're not horrible to look at." You smirked up at her, shaking your head. "Perv." You hummed, her face inching closer to yours, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips before back up again.

"Whatever."

"Nuh uh, you don't get to do that." You said and reached forward grabbing her buckle, pulling her in. "You fucking freak." She just rolled her eyes, looking back at her bedroom door.

There was a silence that felt thick compared to the conversation just had, her head rolling back to face you.

"How long until Dina gets back?" She asked, eyes practically gouging into yours. Her stare had you squirming already.

"Long enough."

She nodded, looking again before at the alarm clock beside her bed.

"Do you-"

"Yes Ellie. Yes."

"Okay."

awkward ellie is more canon then sex god ellie and i stand by that

[coochiequeens]

TRAs "We're so oppressed and people say we're violent men" Also TRAs - set fire to a venue then send 300 to swarm a conference to intimidate women for talking about the full impact or gender ideology for both women and the TQ+ that are undergoing transition.

By Genevieve Gluck September 20, 2024

A private school in Lyon, France, had its electricity sabotaged on Thursday as trans activists attempted to have a conference critical of gender ideology cancelled. The event was later swarmed by 300 trans activists, who gathered outside of the Institute of Social, Economic and Political Sciences (ISSEP) in opposition to the appearance of feminist activist Marguerite Stern, co-author of the book “Transmania.”

The conference, titled Comment L’idéologie Transgenre Détruit des Vies? (How Transgender Ideology Destroys Lives), sought to discuss the harms of both medical transitioning and the aggression of trans activism. But even before the event was set to officially begin, the venue – a private school founded by right-wing Member of Parliament Marion Maréchal-Le Pen – was targeted for sabotage.

At approximately 4:00 AM on the day the conference was to take place, an explosion occurred and a fire broke out in a room housing an electrical meter adjacent to the venue. As firefighters worked to extinguish the flames, 200 police officers were dispatched to the scene. The officers were present throughout the evening’s event in order to secure the safety of attendees.

While police are still investigating the cause of the fire, security camera footage caught one unidentified individual setting off an explosive device. The explosion set fire to the electrical meter of the adjacent building, resulting in a power outage for some local residents. This occurred while trans activists had been vandalizing the front of the institute with threatening slogans.

Vandalism on the ISSEP building’s front read: “Dirty TERF,” an acronym which stands for ‘trans-exclusionary radical feminist’ and is often used as a pejorative to harass or threaten violence against women who oppose gender identity ideology.

Some of the vandalism on the ISSEP building. Photo courtesy of Marguerite Stern.

Stern, formerly an active campaigner against femicide, decided to speak at ISSEP Thursday evening despite the damage to the institute and credible threats to her safety which were shared on social media. While the event took place, more trans activists gathered outside of the venue and complained of “transphobia” to local media.

“At the conference, I talked about how children are harmed by puberty blockers, and all the women who ‘transition’, especially the teenagers, and [detransitioners] who find that ‘transition’ destroyed their lives. But I also talked about the ‘TERFs’, the women who resist, because I believe that transgender ideology destroys their lives, too,” Stern told Reduxx.

“When we started the conference, we didn’t have electricity because the workers were still trying to turn the power back on. And this is not the first time a venue where I was scheduled to speak was vandalized. So what I was talking about was happening in front of our eyes,” Stern continued.

“I’m so upset about that fire and the impact on the people living there. Those people who set the fire just didn’t care about human lives,” she added. “They knew that children were sleeping in this building, and the fire could have been much worse if the firemen didn’t come to stop it. Can you imagine? Some children could have died.

Stern is no stranger to controversy and has been targeted by trans activists for several years.

Last April, when Stern was set to speak at a symposium in Nantes intended to raise awareness of the plight of Afghan and Iranian women, the event had to be postponed in response to violent threats made against her and the venue.

Stern has previously been ousted from her own organization in direct response to her concerns about transgender ideology. Les Collages Contre les Féminicides, a direct action campaign she launched in 2019, involved the creation of murals calling attention to violence against women and girls. In 2022, trans activists destroyed one such mural created in remembrance of the infant victims of shaken baby syndrome by an organization sympathetic to Stern, L’Amazone.

On International Women’s Day in 2021, Stern was pelted with eggs by trans activists in a coordinated and premeditated assault. She, along with members of L’Amazone and the Collective for the Abolition of Pornography and Prostitution (CAPP) had gathered to hold a demonstration at the Place de la République in Paris. The women soon found themselves swarmed and outnumbered by trans activists who called them “SWERFs,” meaning Sex Worker Exclusionary Radical Feminists, and shouted: “No feminism without whores.”

In May, Stern and another women’s rights advocate, Dora Moutot, had death threats chanted at them by a crowd of trans activists outside of Assas University where they had been invited to speak about the book they wrote together.

Demonstrators surrounded the entrance and shouted, “A TERF, a bullet, social justice,” at the two women as they were escorted by police. “They have no shame,” said Stern in footage depicting the scene. “How can they say that in front of police?” marveled Moutot.

Leading up to last night’s conference, Stern was mocked and threatened with violence on social media by trans activists, some of whom joked about hurling eggs at her for their own amusement.

A second protest organized by Jeune Garde, or the French arm of Antifa, which would have occurred at the entrance of ISSEP, was cancelled by order of the police. Stern explained that the police were aware that Jeune Garde protests are “always violent.”

Le Collectif Droit des Femmes 69 coordinated the protest with over a dozen various trans activist and so-called feminist organizations, among them: NousToutes Rhône, Solidaires Rhône, Ensemble ! 69, VIFFIL-SOS Femmes, PS du Rhône, Filactions, Les Ecologistes 69, SOS Homophobie, Jeune Garde, and le Planning Familial.

“As members of the Collectif Droits des Femmes 69, we cannot remain silent in the face of this conference,” the organization’s leaders announced in a press release. “Indeed, this event illustrates in every way what we are fighting: the crass transphobia of a part of the political and media class, increasingly uninhibited in France and elsewhere. Transphobes publicly spread their venom, legitimizing physical, psychological, institutional violence against our trans or non-binary siblings. The feminism we claim is inclusive, we stand up together and for everyone!”

Individual organizations also made public statements on social media vilifying Stern and calling on their supporters to denounce her.

“On Thursday, September 19, ISSEP, Marien Maréchal Lepen’s school, has invited Marguerite Stern to present her book ‘Transmania’. This book, which is nothing more than fiction that aims to demonize trans people and spread hatred, is not based on any scientific reality,” reads a statement produced by Solidaires Rhône. “In particular, it served as support for a transphobic bill aimed at banning the transitions of minors, in complicity with the extreme right.”

Since the publication of “Transmania” in April, which Stern co-authored with her colleague Dora Moutot, the two women’s rights activists have been denied speaking opportunities. For years, the two have faced ongoing threats of violence both online and via publicly posted signage, been publicly condemned by prominent politicians, and even had legal complaints made against them for “misgendering”.

Last year, one of the organizations involved in yesterday’s demonstration, SOS Homophobie, filed France’s first-ever “misgendering” discrimination suit against Moutot. The “Transmania” co-author was accused of “violently attacking” Nicolas ‘Marie’ Cau, mayor of the small town of Tilloy-lez-Marchiennes, by calling him a man.

[uses-for-fics]

Love is Embarrassing | Eric Bouchard

pt. 2 <~~ can be found here

YN stood in the back of the bustling film set, pencil in hand, watching as the crew adjusted the lights and the camera rolled into position. As a storyboard artist for ‘Tecto’, she had a front-row seat to the action, yet her gaze constantly wandered to the man behind the camera. Eric, the director, moved with a sharp precision, directing the crew and actors with an intensity that she admired. He was demanding, yes, but she loved being part of his vision, often on call for his constant script changes and feedback. Those were Eric’s orders.

Every time Eric called her over to discuss a scene or a shot, YN felt a flicker of excitement that went beyond the thrill of the job. It was no secret to herself—she harbored a deep crush on him, a feeling that had grown over the months working together but they never crossed that line. Theirs was a professional relationship, though every shared glance and conversation carried an undercurrent of something more.

As YN sketched, her pencil strokes tracing the sharp angles of Eric’s focused expression, a shadow loomed over her.

“Still drawing the boss, huh?” Adam’s teasing voice broke her concentration. He was the lead actor, playing Tecto, the hero of the movie, and always full of playful energy.

YN quickly closed her sketchbook, a blush rising to her cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, but Adam’s knowing grin made it clear she wasn’t fooling anyone.

Whenever there was downtime on set, YN found herself sketching Eric. It wasn’t like she could help it—he was her muse, his intensity and passion translating perfectly onto the page. She'd captured him in different moments: deep in thought, laughing with the crew, even the way his hair fell messily during long shoots.

She’d grown careful about it, always making sure to keep her distance, never letting on that she spent every spare moment drawing him but the feelings that poured into those sketches were impossible to ignore. For YN, it was a quiet way of expressing her affection for him, an outlet for what she couldn't say out loud.

Adam, of course, was more observant than YN had given him credit for. During one particular scene change, he had seen her sketching again, eyes focused solely on Eric. He teased her relentlessly about it, but this time, he took it a step further. When YN left her sketchbook on her chair to head to the restroom, Adam couldn’t resist.

With a mischievous grin, he flipped through the pages. His eyes widened as he saw drawing after drawing of Eric, each one capturing him perfectly. Chuckling to himself, Adam pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures of the sketches. He knew just what to do. “Looks like you have a secret admirer.” He signed as he sent the photos to someone.

Moments later, Eric’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Eric was in the middle of reviewing a shot when he checked his phone, only to find a text from Adam. Attached were photos of YN’s drawings—of him. At first, he blinked in surprise. He had always appreciated YN’s artistic talents, but he hadn't realized she’d been using him as a subject so often.

A warm feeling stirred in his chest as he flipped through the images. The attention to detail, the way she had captured him so vividly—it struck him that YN had been quietly admiring him all this time, just as he had been doing with her.

He scanned to her usual spot. She was gone. Without thinking too much about it, he picked up his phone and dialed her number.

“YN,” he said when she answered, “I need your help with something urgent. There’s a script change I’d like your input on. Can you meet me after we wrap up today?”

YN was puzzled by Eric’s call. Script change? It wasn’t unusual for him to ask her for help, but there was something different in his voice this time. Nonetheless, she agreed, and after the day’s shoot ended, she met him at the quiet corner of the set where he waited.

“So, what’s this urgent change?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

Eric hesitated for a moment, his usual confidence wavering slightly. “It’s about a new scene I’m considering. A date scene, actually.”

YN blinked in confusion. “A date scene?”

“For you and me,” Eric clarified, his eyes meeting hers, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Off the script.”

Realization dawned on her. Her heart raced as she realized what he was saying. She hadn’t expected this, not after months of keeping her feelings hidden.

“I thought… maybe we should give it a shot,” Eric continued. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and, well… after seeing those sketches, I figured it was time.”

YN’s face flushed with embarrassment, but also a surge of excitement. Adam! She would have to thank him—and yell at him—later.

“Well,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “I think I’d like that.” She covered her face with her hands. “I just can’t believe Adam would send you those sketches! It’s so embarrassing.”

Eric removed her hands from her face and smiled. “Love is embarrassing but it’s worth it no?”

Their date that night was the first of many. What had started as a quiet, unspoken attraction finally blossomed into something real. On set, things didn’t change much, at least not for the public eye, though there was a new spark between them that even the crew began to notice.

Adam, ever the troublemaker, couldn’t resist teasing them both. “You know, YN, I should start charging for my matchmaking services.”

YN only rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t deny it—Adam’s sneaky plan had given her the push she needed, and now, she was living the scenes she’d only sketched in the past.

[gunilslaugh]

Not How It's Supposed To Be

Goo Gunil Summary: Gunil was the enemy, so were you falling for him. (non-idol au) WC:925 Warning:none

part 2 part 3 epilogue!

photo not mine credits to owner.

Go undercover and get the evidence needed to take Gunil and his corrupted organization down. That was the plan, it was simple. However now that the plan is in action it doesn’t feel that simple. You knew Gunil was a bad guy. You knew about all the illegal business he was doing under the guise of his product distribution company. You knew that Gunil was distributing psychotropic drugs. Then how did you end up here? Why were you lying for Gunil instead of to him?

“You know the kind of people I hate most y/n?” Gunil asked you one day while you were having lunch together in his office. 

“What kind?” you questioned. 

“Liars,” he answered. Your heart dropped. Did he find out about you being undercover? Was he about to do something to you? Were you going to be able to walk out of this room?

“Who would like a liar?” You chuckled nervously. 

“My mom was a liar and so was the person I considered my best friend.” He went on to say. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“You know it really does damage when the people closest to you lie to you.” He stabbed his fork harshly into the piece of meat in front of him, making you flinch. 

“I can only imagine.” Gunil stands up and comes over the couch opposite of him you were sitting on. 

“That’s right. You’ve never been hurt by someone close to you have you?” He very gently strokes your cheek with the back of his hand.

“Fortunately not,” you responded. Gunil smiled. 

“And you wouldn’t hurt someone close to you either right?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “I don’t want to hurt those close to me.” 

“Can I be close to you?” He leaned closer to you.

So maybe that’s how you found yourself in this situation. Because the more time you spend with Gunil. The more you learned his story. The more you felt for him. It doesn’t make what he does right, but you get why he does it. With the way life treated him, it only makes sense he turned into the villain that he is. 

“I don’t know. I’ve only been working here a month. Why would he tell all his dirty secrets to a new hire?” You told the people who you were supposed to be working with to take Gunil down. “There is a shipment going out soon, but I don’t know all the details,” you lied. A part of your job was literally managing shipping schedules. “I’ll look into it ok. I gotta go now.” You hung up the phone and let out a sigh. What were you doing? This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. Yet the thought of something happening to Gunil tugged on your heartstrings. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/n?” Gunil’s secretary called you. 

“Yes?” you asked. 

“Mr. Goo requests you in his office,” he tells you. 

“Ok I’ll head there in a sec.” You saved the work you were working on before heading over to Gunil’s office. 

“If you don’t find who broke into the warehouse I’ll get rid of you for being useless, do you understand!” You hear Gunil shout from the other side of the door. His icy tone sends a shiver down your spine. You knocked twice on the door. 

“It’s me,” you say gently. 

“Come in y/n.” His voice is much softer now. You took a small breath before opening the door. 

“You wanted to see me,” you said. Gunil approaches you. 

“Yeah I did.” Next thing you know he’s melting into you. Wrapping his arms around your frame in a hug. You freeze in your spot. 

“...Is everything ok?” you asked. Very slowly you lift your hands and rest them against his back.

“Someone broke into the warehouse,” he tells you. You know exactly who it was. You feel something knot in your stomach. 

“Was anything stolen?” Gunil pulls away from you and straightens his tie, fixing his composure. 

“Fortunately not, but it was still a close call.” 

“Guni,” you say. 

“Yeah,” I know who it was. Those words sit right on the tip of your tongue. 

“Did you check the security cameras to see who it was?” You say instead. 

“They were wearing a cap and mask, so we couldn’t see. It was a man though,” he told you. You nodded. “Come sit.” Gunil motioned for you to sit down. Slowly you walked over to the couch and took a seat. Gunil then takes a seat beside you. “Did me asking to be close to you make you uncomfortable?” he questioned. 

“Huh? Oh, no it didn’t. Why are you asking?” you replied. 

“You just seem a bit distant with me since then,” he tells you. Cause that’s when you started feeling conflicted. You didn’t want to lie to Gunil anymore, but if stopped you’d be betraying your partners. 

“It’s not that. It’s just…remember when I said I don’t want to hurt those close to me?” you brought up. 

“Of course,” he said. 

“Well, I found myself in a situation where I have to make a decision and no matter what choice I make somebody's gonna get hurt,” you informed. 

“Which decision would make you the happiest?” he asked you.

“How can I be happy when I’m hurting someone?” 

“Then can you tell me what the situation is? Maybe I can handle it,” he suggested. Your heart sinks. 

“That’s the thing…there’s something you don’t know about me,” you say. 

“Which is?” He looked at you expectantly. 

“I’m a liar.”

part 2 part 3 epilogue!

Taglist: @purplelady85 @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143

[vanilasky]

Okay, I just saw a tiktok with a really great take on what is recently going on with Carlos and Rebecca's' relationship and I feel like sharing this here.

In my opinion it's pretty obvious this is a classic PR relationship. She may have not been the best choice considering her being an escort and generally very questionable person, but she was certainly in the right place at the right time to be the best possible choice. She did the Ferrari commercial and fans already noticed that Carlos and Isa were growing apart. Could there be a better way to sell cars than pairing one of your drivers with a "model" who appeared in the commercial?

Apart from that, during Carlos and Isa's relationship we barely saw these two together. Carlos kept saying he protects love and he isn't an affectionate man. And suddenly, just after he announced he broke up with her, we were inundated with pictures of him and Rebecca holding hands, hugging etc. In a spare of two months there were already more pictures of these two together than with him and Isa. What happened to the "I protect love" agenda? And to the people saying that "omg he's finally in love so he can show how happy he is". Nobody can force a twenty-something, rich, childless man to be trapped in a loveless relationship. Especially when your work allows him to travel all around the world and you don't have any commitments.

The weird thing about these photos is that they are always staged and forced. Or leaked to the gossip pages by Rebecca's friend who decided to go public for 10 minutes. There is always at least one photo or one video when Carlos looks directly into the camera and poses cause he knows he's being filmed. He's holding her hand, hugging her or so. But when he doesn't know there's a camera on him, suddenly Rebecca disappears. He's totally ignoring her which is easy to see on some of Singapore's videos from the party. She's basically pushed back from his circles into the crowd.

And now we are coming to the photo posted on "accident" by Pierre. That's the take from tiktok so it's not mine but I feel like sharing it. Pierre posted that photo because the gossip accounts weren't enough. Not many people visit those types of accounts regularly since not all of them are interested in sportsmen's love life. But there's a 99,9% chance that people invested in sport will follow a sportsperson. Therefore, more people will see the photo and start searching. "Leaking" the photos to the gossip account by unknown sources wasn't enough for them. After the Singapore party there were already many people who started digging into Rebecca's past. They found out she is an escort and so they figured out she's only there to escort him to parties. A photo was used as proof that she's not only an escort (look, he took her on a date with his team) and to make this stunt feel more real because it came from Pierre. And obviously Pierre is kinda known in the F1 community as a creator of chaos. There were lots of people saying he made this as revenge on Carlos for calling him "pobrectio".

Last but not least, it's obvious she's (or all of them) are reading what people are saying. When she was at the paddock on Friday people were saying she always looks sloppy, dresses badly and always has her hair up. On Saturday she was wearing a dress, high heels and had her hair down. But sadly, no one cared cause even the gossip accounts didn't notice she was there in the first place. They were writing about Alexa (Charles' girlfriend) being there, but no one mentioned Rebecca, who was standing just a few meters away from Alexa. They posted about her only when another "unknown source" sent them the video of her being in the Ferrari's hospitality.

Honestly I don't know why Carlos' agreed on this. Seems like a very poor move from his team cause the only people who believe it's a true love are twelve years old or bots accounts. He will now be seen either as a person who hangs out with escorts, or as a man who is easy to manipulate and cannot stay single for three minutes. And for her, this whole stunt will backfire at some point. Not only was she not able to erase her past from the internet but people are already finding more questionable stuff about her. If there's at least one smart person involved in this, it's time to stop this.

[shawnflowers]

shawn michaels headcannons <3

gonna get my writing game up 😤 so this is how you and shawn meet (this was an idea i had for a long one shot but i turned it into this instead (if you want a full story i always can do that hehe))

: ̗̀➛ warnings: fluff! hint of smut!

*ahem* so, i’d say this starts with you being a new photographer for the wwf

yknow you’re around the ring, capturing all of the exciting shots but you also dabble in backstage activities and snapping candids of the wrestlers

welllllll shawn spots you in your second week there. you’re walking around backstage with your camera, readjusting the shutter speed and the exposure levels you would need once you head out to the ring. you hardly notice anyone blatantly staring at you as you’re stuck in your own little world.

he’s perhaps a little starstruck

he wonders why he hasn’t seen you around before. because fuck fuck fuck that body of yours is absurd (and you’re also gorgeous)

he happens to spot you with hunter right next to him so he asks him, “who’s she?”

hunter turns to see who he’s talking about, spotting you in the distance as you’re making your way to gorilla. “oh that’s y/n i believe, she’s new. a photographer.”

and that’s all it took before he went sailing over to you, one thing set on his mind. i gotta make her mine

the rest was history as they say

you were completely smitten by him

you saw through his heartbreaker persona almost immediately, instead falling for the man that would hug you from behind and place his chin on top of your head

shawn most certainly would open every door for you, and makes sure to open your car door every time as well

you were really timid when you first started working there — feeling completely out of place with all of these incredible athletes that were also incredibly intimidating. but he was your gateway into a great experience at the company.

once he took you under his wing and introduced you to the rest of his little goon squad, everyone wanted to get to know you better and wanted you to get great pictures of them.

but of course shawn wanted you to get the best photos of him while he was wrestling which wasn’t hard to do because he’s incredibly photogenic

“when I jump off the top rope, can you make sure you’re on my right? I think that’s my good side.”

“every side is your good side, shawn.”

“even my backside?” *smirk*

“especially.”

and i mean, do we even have to talk about the sex? yes

he loves loves loves when you praise him. “no one touches me like you, baby.” “god, shawn, you’re stretching me so good.” “you looked so hot tonight. it took everything in me not to jump you in the ring.”

and in turn, you love love love a little degradation. “you’re my slutty baby girl. isn’t that right?” “look at you, crying those pathetic little tears. i know you can take more.” “does my baby want her release? gonna have to try a little harder than that.”

also. yeah. the camera is definitely involved. sometimes you get pictures of him, but shawn is adamant on taking your photo too. both in cute ways and in incredibly intimate ways. there was almost a mixup of those photos and work photos once

and so on and so forth 😮‍💨

but love is in the air nonetheless. you’re the best thing to happen to each other.

that kinda scared shawn at first ngl. he wanted to make you his yet he wasn’t exactly ready for full commitment. but once he got to know you he realized he never wanted to separate from you again. he couldn’t possibly think of you spending time with another man without getting all sorts of jealous. so, he decided he was yours as much as you were his and that was the best decision he ever made

he broke you out of your shell while you managed to keep him under control. it was the perfect balance

: ̗̀➛ nose boops to you

[holder-of-saturn]

Alastor x modern day reader

summary: reader who has a phone and uses it. what Alastor is like if he knew someone who has a phone.

word count: 814

You decided to go the hotel for who knows what, weirdly you took attachment to Alastor. He took a while to get used to you on the other hand. He didn't understand why you were obsessed with that—box of noise and all that, of course he was playing dumb, he knows it's a phone.

you don't know why you were attached to him, maybe his style, how he acted, who knows really. He does know why he is interested in you though! He finds it interesting what people of todays time are like of course

he's met with other sinners of more recent times, but never had one at his disposal, right at the hotel. So he finds it fun to check in on you at times, aka coming up behind you randomly. He has asked about the phone you have, and you did explain a bit to him. Why people use them, what makes them so fun, how they work, all that jazz. He did ask if you could play jazz, but said it could never compare to real jazz on the radio.

Always just comes to check what you're doing on it, sometimes even stays in the room to read or do something else. Not if you're playing videos or music, because usually those are inappropriate and not his style at all. You try not to torture him too much.. try

If y'all are even more involved with one another, he starts to question about how much you're on that thing. He asked you one time and you had to check the settings, let's just say it's been more than you think. He kept asking you that, so now you just have it where you can see it easier on your home screen.

He sets a time limit for you, and you have to follow it. If you don't he will break your phone, he's done it to Angel before. You have a time limit of 5-6 hours a day, he would like it to be 4 but, you argued it wasn't enough and he accepted it. He often tells you to read a book.

it also cannot take up too much of your attention, if he's talking to you, he expects you to look at him, at least acknowledge him. probably the same reason he broke Angels phone if you don't he'll most likely just hit it out of your hands or, if he's feeling nice, call you out on it. Then maybe if you still don't listen he'll break it or something of the sorts.

He won't ever, ever, buy a phone or use one, or any technology. He will let you take photos he's in the background of, don't post them though. He's always static-y in them anyways, he can't allow himself to be seen like that, as if he wants to be. But that's only if you're really fond of him, and he finds you acceptable. He will not at all let people he doesn't like take any kind of photo of him. He also prefers those old cameras and stuff like that

He will not touch it at all with his hands or his own body. Do not even try to get him to, he's very persistent about it. But will always make sure the camera isn't facing toward him if possible, and for your safety, and the hotels, pointed away from everything/everyone. So put it in your pocket or something so nothing can be seen.

Often thinks that Vox is listening and can just come into the hotel out of your phone, using his magical teleporting powers (he didn't word it like that lmao) and reminds you of this fact, telling you about it, do you ever really listen? no, you still don't care.

He asked if you bought it from Vox (Voxtech) and if you've ever meant him. so basically he skeptical of Vox, and if Vox does ever try and do something like that, he'll just gloat to you about how he was right. That fuels his pride

To get this a bit straight, he's not scared of Vox. He just kinda thinks it's annoying, because if Vox does try and of something he'll have to deal with it. And while sometimes it can be quite fun to mess with him, other times he has work he needs to get done. If Vox does ever try something he'll be able to handle it

so inclusion, he's interested, entertained and skeptical of it a bit. If y'all are close he will make sure you're not always on the thing, and he will break it/get it out of your hands when needed; he isn't interested in doing anything with one of course, but he doesn't mind you using it. as long as he still gets the attention he wants. and also he thinks vox is annoying.

⟪First post!!!⟫ (kinda)

somehow I made this more about Vox then I was going to lmao, I still like it. also this seems like more then 814 words but whatever

[iambutmortal]

Chapter 2 for @elucienweekofficial Day 2: Magic

Summary: When Elain signs the divorce papers she’s sure she’s done with Lucien Vanserra. Until they’re offered the chance to recreate their honeymoon as a part of her job. For free. But reliving all those memories with Lucien proves leaving may be more difficult than she thought.

Word Count: 3.3k

Read on Ao3 | Chapter 1

Elain was convinced some higher power had it out for her as she looked at the seat number on her boarding pass, and then up at the row number on the plane bulkhead. Number thirty two on both, in the back row of the plane, with no window and direct access to whatever smells came out of the bathroom.

And two men currently crammed in the aisle seat on either side.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nesta muttered from behind her.

“Elain,” Cassian cried, rising to his feet and pulling her into a rib-crushing hug in the middle of the aisle. A broad grin spread across his face, too bright for someone about to spend eight hours smushed into a too small airplane seat.

“What are you doing here?” Elain asked, smiling up at him. 

Rhys’ brother was one of her favorite people to see at family dinners, his energy was just so contagious. He never failed to make everyone laugh at whatever absurd story he came armed with. Everyone except Nesta, who seemed to wear a permanent scowl whenever she was in his presence.

Cassian gestured to the black camera bag thrown in the seat next to him.“I’m your photographer.” 

Elain glanced behind her to see Nesta glaring daggers. “You’re joking.”

“Nope,” Cassian said. “Got the orders two days ago.”

“That’s amazing,” Elain said, as Cassian took her bag and slid it into the overhead for her. She’d seen a few of Cassian’s photos before, when Feyre cajoled him into it, and he was far, far more talented than the celebrity house tours he spent most of his time doing.

“This is going to be so much fun,” Cassian promised. “The four of us galavanting across the Dominican.” 

Right, because the man in the seat opposite him was Lucien, who was apparently too engrossed in whatever he was reading on his black kindle to notice their arrival.

“Fun?” Nesta asked, voice incredulous. “Galavanting? On a work trip?”

Cassian’s bright grin seemed to dim a hair. “I’m sure we’ll have time for things other than pictures, might as well take advantage. Think about it, Nes, all of us on a beach, fruity little cocktails in hand, getting tanned.”

“I don’t need a tan, I live in LA,” Nesta muttered, picking up her carry-on to shove in the storage bin, pointedly ignoring Cassian’s offered hand. “And this shoot could make or break all of our careers so maybe we shouldn’t let some fruity little cocktails get in the way.”

 “I know,” Cassian said, raising his hands defensively. “But we don’t need to be serious all the time.”

“Speak for yourself.” Nesta shoved past Elain and Cassian to slide into her seat, back ramrod straight so as not to wrinkle her pantsuit. “And don’t call me Nes.”

“Right then,” Cassian muttered to himself, taking his seat next to Nesta.

Which left Elain to face Lucien.

“I’m sitting here,” she said softly. Lucien looked up at her. He’d slid on a pair of reading glasses, the black rimmed, round ones that always made him look like a professor. A look helped by his khaki pants and white button down rolled up at the elbows.

He reached over, grabbing the tray of coffees on her seat, and stood to let her in. He had to duck slightly to avoid baking his head on the top of the small aircraft. He took up space, too much space, and Elain had no choice but to slide her body against his as she stepped past. Anywhere they came into contact broke into traitorous shivers, clearly not having gotten the message that she was done with Lucien.

“If I’d known you were coming, Cassian, I would have gotten you a coffee too,” Lucien apologized, passing a hot cup to Nesta and an iced one to Elain. She took a small sip. Two creams and three pumps of caramel, the way she always got it in the morning. Elain was oddly touched he’d remembered.

She muttered her thanks before pulling out her own kindle, a Christmas gift from Lucien last year, and slid her purse under the seat.

Elain tried not to notice the way Lucien shifted uncomfortably as he sat back down, scrunching to make his legs fit. He’d managed, with some contortion, to get in with his knee pressed up to his chest when Elain gave in. She angled her body towards the window, and Lucien gave her a grateful nod as he slipped his foot in front of her. The position left his thigh pressed entirely against hers, the warm pressure familiar, and not entirely unwelcome.

“I guess all inclusive didn’t include first class,” Lucien joked, and Elain gave a flicker of a smile.

“Anything to save money in the marketing budget.”

“If I’d known I would have upgraded us.”

Elain shrugged. “I think Nesta’s thinking about it right now.” Her sister and Cassian had played their own sort of balancing act to fit in the seat, with Nesta pressed as far against the window as she could get in order to avoid any part of her body touching Cassian’s. “But I think we can withstand roughing it. We survived the first time.”

 “That’s because you spent our flight budget on your wedding dress,” Lucien accused, but his tone was light.

“It was a nice dress,” Elain defended.

“You looked beautiful in that dress,” Lucien confirmed. “And it also led to us sitting in the back row of the plane next to a bathroom with a toilet that didn’t flush.”

Elain shuddered at the memory. “We lived.”

“Lived,” Lucien said. “And then joined the mile high club while the rest of the plane was disembarking.”

Elain laughed softly. “Not one of our finest moments.”

“Oh, I think it was a highlight.”

“You didn’t have a faucet shoved between your ass cheeks.”

“Then I guess we remember it differently,” Lucien said, souring suddenly. “Like a lot of things.”

“I—yes, I guess we do.” Elain turned back to the window, which didn’t do much good, since it granted her a perfect reflection of Lucien behind her. He had gone back to his kindle, no doubt reading the latest political memoir. He looked so studious, the sun practically making his skin glow, even in the plane lighting. Elain could imagine him in a few years looking similar on some campaign poster, a carefully crafted image to project intelligence, yet relatability. His future was all laid out for him. A future she wasn’t in.

She closed her eyes for a second, before turning to her own book. A romance about a woman in her early thirties trying to find love after her divorce. A little too biographical for Elain’s taste, although she was at least ahead of the curve. She’d ruined her marriage before she was twenty eight.

The next eight hours passed in uncomfortable silence, the two of them ignoring each other, except for the single time Elain asked Lucien to move so she could use the restroom. As she washed her hands, she couldn’t help but remember what they’d done in there. And honestly, it hadn’t been the worst sex of her life, which was a true testament to Lucien’s skill.

She splashed a bit of water on her face and smoothed her hair down before emerging.

Only to almost run into Nesta who looked just as flustered, racing for the bathroom.

Lucien gave her a single don’t ask shake of his head when she stepped around the curtain. Cassian had sunk low in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. And when Nesta came back, he didn’t bother to stand, just slid into the window seat and let Nesta take his.

Which served Nesta well, since she darted off the plane as soon as the door opened, leaving the three of them to gather the bags.

“Cosmopolitan said they’d meet us at baggage claim with the car,” Nesta said, when they finally assembled. She was already typing on her phone, and Elain didn’t want to know how much she was paying for international coverage.

“Lead the way,” Lucien said, gesturing for Nesta to go ahead. Elain weighed her options briefly, deciding between the two devils in front of her, before opting to walk next to Nesta, leaving Cassian and Lucien to trail in their wake.

“I thought you and Cassian got along now,” Elain hissed. Early in Feyre and Rhys’ relationship the two of them had had some truly vicious fights, but it had been years since they’d really gone at it.

Nesta snorted. “We manage for dinners. Barely. But not if he’s going to ruin this for us by not taking it seriously.”

Elain shrugged. “All his other shoots have turned out well.” Or seemed to on the rare occasion she flipped through a home and garden magazine while waiting in line at the grocery store.

“And,” Nesta said, plowing on as if Elain hadn't spoken, “not when I ask him not to touch my leg and he asks if it’s because I want him to touch me somewhere else.”

There it was, Elain thought. She opted not to comment on the uncharacteristic blush spreading across Nesta’s cheeks. For her own safety.

As promised, there was a car waiting for them at baggage claim. A hummer limo, entirely too large for the four of them.

“So,” Cassian explained, as soon as they were settled inside. “The director of photography is already scoping out locations. I hope you don’t mind but we found what excursions the two of you did and were hoping to recreate them. The angle we’re going for is ‘A honeymoon three years apart, different lives, same love.’”

Elain bit her tongue to keep from commenting on the ‘same love’ part. 

“So it’s the exact same trip?” Lucien asked.

“As of right now,” Nesta answered. “You guys had a good mix of things, including some of their less popular, but still good, options they wanted to push. The whole ‘you can do the same things celebrities do even on a regular budget.’” Because three years ago Elain’s career had been nowhere near as lucrative, and Lucien was still working bottom rung in a local political office.

“Fine,” Lucien said with a nod. “Same rooms too then?”

Nesta checked her phone. “No, they were nice enough to put you in the honeymoon suite, full service.”

“Rose petals on the bed, champagne on the nightstand” Cassian said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“We could get some good shots with those,” Nesta added.

Elain coughed. “Maybe we can wait until Lucien is more warmed up in front of the camera before we do more intimate photos.”

Nesta grimaced at the thought. “I’ll sit those out.”

Lucien snorted. “You don’t want to see your brother-in-law in his underwear?”

Nesta pointed a manicured nail at him. “Don’t push it, you’re barely holding onto your status as favorite of my sisters’ husbands.”

A status he was very quickly going to lose. Lucien must have realized it too, because the satisfied grin dropped off his face.

“I think I should be offended on Rhys’ behalf,” Cassian groused.

“Everyone knows Az is my favorite out of you lot,” Nesta said.

“Only because he talks the least,” Cassian protested.

“And I value that in a man.”

Cassian huffed, but stayed silent the rest of the ride. At least until they pulled up the drive that led to the resort they’d be staying at. “We’re here,” Cassian announced, bouncing excitedly at the window.

His enthusiasm was infectious. Even Nesta smiled, though she tried to hide it behind her phone screen.

True to the company’s word, it was the exact same hotel Elain and Lucien had stayed in for their honeymoon. In the last three years, nothing had changed: same faded pepto bismol pink walls, same overgrown hedges bursting with roses, same crumbling roof.

Nesta wrinkled her nose slightly. “I hope it photographs better than it looks.”

“There’s some pretty gardens inside,” Elain defended. It had been what drew her to the place in the first place, the blooming flowers highlighted on the hotel’s website.

“It should be fine,” Cassian said. He’d already pulled out his camera and was fiddling with the settings. “Exposure should wash some of the color out.”

Nesta sat straight up in the chair. “And wash out Elain?”

Cassian shook his head. “It’ll be fine, I can edit—”

“It will not be fine.”

Lucien sighed, throwing open the door of the now-parked limo. “Let’s leave them,” he whispered in Elain’s ear and she nodded, following him out onto the curb in front of the main entrance. Lucien led them up to the front desk. He leaned over the counter casually, giving Elain a too-good glimpse of his well sculpted ass. She quickly averted her gaze.

“I think we have four rooms booked, under the name Vanserra.”

The desk worker shook herself from the apparent daze seeing Lucien had put her in, and buried herself in her computer. “I’m sorry but I only have three rooms under Vanserra, sir.”

Elain slid next to Lucien, wrapping an arm around him. He tensed at her touch. “Three rooms will be fine, thank you.” Because of course she would be sharing a room with her husband.

The employee, Amy from her name tag, relaxed, grateful to not have to engage in a customer service fight. Elain recognized her expression well from when she worked in a botanical garden ticket center in high school. She was always shocked at how entitled tourists could be.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Lucien promised, once they’d gotten their key cards and waved Nesta and Cassian off to their own rooms.

“I’m sure there will be a couch,” Elain said, sliding the card into the door lock.

She opened the door to reveal that there was not in fact a couch, there was barely room for a bed. A bed currently covered in bright red rose pedals. A chilled bottle of champagne stood ready for them on the nightstand.

“Really spent big on this one,” Lucien said dryly, setting his bag down on the floor roughly.

Elain flopped down onto the bed with a sigh, scattering rose petals everywhere. “They took ‘recreate your honeymoon’ a little too seriously.” 

“I can ask for an upgrade, or a separate room,” Lucien said, still standing in the doorway. Because there certainly wasn’t enough floor space for Lucien to lay down unless he wanted his feet to spend the night in the bathroom.

Elain shook her head. “It’ll raise too many questions.”

“Want me to set up a pillow wall,” Lucien offered. “Like me and Callum used to do as kids when Beron cheaped out too much to get another room. No cooties for us.”

Elain barked out a small laugh. “Yeah, that should work.”

Lucien dropped their bags onto the little floor space available and held out a hand. “Come on. At least the beach is big.”

Elain took it, enjoying the momentary warmth and rough calluses against her skin before Lucien quickly let go.

To give the hotel some credit, they were right on the water, the last door on the hall opening up to the private beach access.

And the beach was picture perfect, the water a shade blue that shouldn’t exist in real life and smooth sand that slid between Elain’s toes once she took off her flip flops. “You did good picking this place,” Lucien said, stepping forward to join her.

Elain smiled faintly. “You said that the first time.”

Lucien nudged her shoulder. “Still true.” Elain could still remember how excited she felt when they arrived. She’d checked to make sure she had the simple silver band on her fourth finger at least every twenty minutes, not believing it was real. That first night her and Lucien had been far too busy in their small room to make in on the beach before sunset. And by the time they had, it had been deserted and they’d made love in one of the hammocks hanging from palm trees. Lucien had dutifully taken the rope burns without comment, and Elain had rubbed on the aloe they’d bought for “sun burns” the next morning. The sight of Lucien’s bare ass had led to a few more rounds of moving love making before they made it to breakfast.

Lucien was leading them back over to a hammock now, and Elain sat down on it silently. He popped open the bottle of Champagne he’d nabbed from the room and offered it to her. Elain grabbed it and took a large swig, staring out at the rolling waves to avoid meeting his eyes.

They stayed like that for a while, Lucien standing and Elain sitting, passing the bottle back and forth. The alcohol was hitting more than it should, and Elain wracked her brain trying to remember the last time she ate. She’d had a granola bar on the way to the airport, and the coffee Lucien brought, oh god was that all?

“You doing okay?” Lucien asked.

“Fine.”

Lucien arched an eyebrow. “Really? Because your cheeks have the red look they get when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” she protested, rising to her feet. Only to sway slightly in the sand. Lucien reached out to grab her arm, holding her steady.

“Yeah, not drunk.” A smile tugged at his lips.

“Shut up,” Elain said, shoving her shoulder into his. It unbalanced her more than it affected him, and Lucien reached out to steady her again.

“Sit,” Lucien said, directing her down into the hammock.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Elain pouted, but did as he said. For her own sake, not his. Just until some of the alcohol wore off.

This time, Lucien joined her in the seat, the side of his body pressed tightly against hers. She rested her head on his shoulder, something she would doubtlessly curse herself for in the morning, but for right now he was warm and present.

“What happened Elain,” Lucien asked after a long moment.

Elain stared out at the ocean, watching as the sun started to set, casting the water in shades of pink. “I don’t—” she trailed off.

“I thought we were happy.” Lucien’s voice was imploring, each word a dagger to her heart.

“We were, until we weren’t.”

“We?” Lucien asked. “Speak for yourself, but I was happy.”

Elain rubbed her forehead. “God can’t you see that was the problem. You were happy with your perfect life.”

“How can I know what the problem is if you never talk to me,” Lucien challenged. “You just iced me out one day and a week later my stuff was on the porch.”

Elain sighed, watching as the waves crashed against the shore. “Can we please not have this conversation now. Not when we have to be around each other for a week straight.”

“Typical. Divorce papers are signed and you still don’t want to talk about it.”

“Maybe because you’re impossible to talk to.” Elain turned to look at Lucien at last, at the mixture of outrage and hurt written clear as day across his face.

“Did you even try?”

Elain flinched away from him.

Lucien rolled his eyes. “Fine, then, don’t talk to me. We can go this whole week pretending we’re this perfect happy couple and then first thing when we get back I’m dropping the papers off at the courthouse.”

“Good. That’s all I wanted to do anyway.”

Lucien nodded, eyes searching her face, as if looking for any sign of hesitancy, but there was none. So Elain went back to staring moodily at the sea, pressed tightly against her soon to be ex, too upset to appreciate the magic of the beach in front of her.

[written-but-not-lost]

Angel Sent From God

Neighbor Joel x Reader

Warnings: MDNI, age gap, unknown peeping tom, male masturbation, & a narcissist character.

A/N: I did my best to proof read this post, sorry for any errors. If you would like to share your thoughts or any requests, feel free to reach out to me. I am just getting into writing. Thanks!

Word Count: 1,111

--------------------------------------------------------------

Joel turned off his desk light and sighed placing his head in his hands, exhausted from the long day. Typically he would be at the site working, but he had fallen behind on clerical duties since Tommy went on his honeymoon. Meaning he had spent the entire day in his home office. He had always preferred to be a hands-on man. If anyone were to ask how he felt about being inside all day, he would say it is ranked as high as his ex-wife leaving him shortly after their daughter turned four. . He sat up and looked outside unsure of what time it was now in the day. That is when his eye caught you.

You and Joel had been next door neighbors for some odd years now and he never intended for you to find out that he had a soft spot for you. Sure he would help you any time he saw you were struggling to carry in heavy furniture or when your mower broke he lent you his, but anyone could chuck that up to just being neighborly.

His office's window faced your house..specifically your bedroom window. On a few occasions, he saw more than you intended anyone seeing. By all means, he would look away. He was a gentleman, but today.. Today was different. You were standing in front of your full-length mirror that was opposite your bedroom window in your towel, fresh out of the shower. One simple motion, it sealed his fate.

The towel dropping to the floor. Your hands didn't chase it, instead taking your hair in your fists as you raised your arms above your head as you stretched. You were on full display. Joel could feel himself getting hard as the growing desire to be in that room with you grew.

His eyes followed you as you walked across your room to your bed where something was sat out for you. A sheer lingerie set that had dark blue flowers running across it.

You chose to put on the panties first. Joel was a believer in good things come to those who wait, but fuck it - he needed relieve some of the tension that had built up in his pants. He stood up from his desk and palmed himself over his jeans while walking over to the window to get even a few feet closer to you.

You had bent over lifting your left leg into the panties and stepping in before repeating the process for the right leg. Giving him a great view of your holes in the meanwhile. When you stood up and grabbed the other item. You brought the bra up to your breasts, pausing to gently move your hair to one shoulder, and closing the claps. Joel unbuttoned his pants, his hand reaching to his own member that leaked with pre cum. You looked like an angel sent from God himself. Joel swears that if you wanted to you could start your own religion, men would be down on their knees begging for a millisecond of your attention. He spat into his hand and wrapped it around his cock. Slowly pumping up and down. Wishing that instead your sweet mouth was the one producing the saliva to moisten his dick.

You pulled out a white pair of heels that had bows on the back, you might be the death of him.

He imagined himself next to you in your room, he would gently gather your hair in his hand as he kissed your neck gently before leaving love bites to claim you as his. Then pulling your hair with just enough force to turn your head so you were face to face with him. His lips would crash into yours before he would ask 'who do you think you are getting all dressed up for?' His fantasy was cut short when you moved back to your mirror camera in hand.

He watched as you took a few photos showing off your bust. He noted how your breasts sat perfectly. He wanted to desperately help you remove the articles of clothing, throwing them on the floor to be forgotten about until the next morning.

You sat on your knees in front of your mirror, legs spread like the little whore you were. He could all but hear the clicks of the camera as you took indecent photos of your panties. Your pussy would feel ten times better than his hand has ever felt. You would be so wet for him as soon as he touched your skin. You would beg for his touch, squeezing your legs together trying to gain any friction as you waited for him to please you.

Lastly, you turned your body away from the mirror sitting on your knees, facing your bedroom window. You raised your camera to get a shot of your ass, making sure to arch your back to emphasize it. The panties were almost too tight, the material was pulled taunt around all your rear. Joel picked up his pace feeling closer to his inevitable ecstasy. Imagining being in front of your knelt pose, using his pointer finger and middle finger to gently lift your chin to look up to him. The vulnerableness of being at his disposal. The possibilities that would follow.

He would have you stick out your tongue, spitting in your mouth, making you thank him for it before plunging his thick cock inside your mouth. Face fucking you as tears streamed down your face and making you swallow every drop of cum.

He could have you crawl on all fours over to him as he sat at the edge of your bed. He could practically hear your heels clanking against the hard wood as you'd crawl. Finally, placing your soft hands gently on the inside of his thighs as you placed kisses on either side.

Joel felt the familiar warmth of an orgasm spreading through out his body as it began to come to a head. Thrusting harder into his hand in rapid succession before he let go, all the while keeping his gaze on you.

---

Your eyes met as you looked up from your camera. The seconds felt like decades as you took in what was in front of you. Joel's leaning against the window trim of his office window across from your room. He was sweaty, breathing heavy, disheveled hair. Your eyes drifted down to his hand and lower shirt, which was covered in what you can only assume was cum. He had been touching himself to you. You did a little wave and before he could react you closed the blinds.

[writersblockiskillingme]

I need more Jann x reader.

Like reader being fashion designer and u know they are talking and all and like each other.

Like write whatever you want just those things include pls

The Muse | Jan Rozmanowski/Jann

Pairing: Jan Rozmanowski/Jann x reader (fashion designer!reader)

Summary: Your next job was do design a new costume for a possible Eurovision star, but you never expected to fall in love with anything more than just his performance.

Warning/s: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, short fic

Author's note: This one was long overdue, but it's finally here. I'm sorry that it's too short, but I do hope that you like it! Enjoy!

You were surrounded by mess. But, just to humor yourself so you could feel a little bit better about your situation, you loved to call this kind of mess a "creative/organized mess". Like I said, it made you feel a little bit better. So now, as you looked around the room you were currently in, you couldn't help but to sigh in exhaustion.

You were answering phone calls and writing your ideas and drawing sketches for your newest designs. You were just so swarmed with work, you didn't even have time to go out sometimes. So yeah, you could say that your social life was nonexistent.

It didn't help you when your boss practically broke down the door as he barged in your office. He told you that he had a new job for you and at first you felt like you seriously wanted to murder yourself. You had enough stuff to do as it is and you were really hoping that nothing was going to pile on. Guess you were wrong.

But on the second thought, you didn't find your new task to be as bad as you thought that it would be once you finally found out what was going on. Your newest task/job was to design a special costume for a possible competition in Eurovision song contest 2023. You already got the person's measurements and you even got the pictures along with the measurements and everything else that you could possibly need.

Later that day, the moon was already hight up in the middle of the sky and it felt like it was there just so it could mock your tiredness from work. With another heavy sigh and a cup of coffee in your right hand you slouched down on your chair by your desk in the office. You placed the cup of coffee on the table and started to open your files. You opened the file about your newest costumer. More precisely, you were looking for the pictures your boss gave you along with the folder.

It was safe to say that it felt like your last breath was knocked out of your lungs. The guy for whom you were supposed to design the costume for Eurovision song contest was bloody handsome. No. That was too weak of the word to express his looks. He was gorgeous. Even that was barely enough. He was tall as heck and his eyes were so hypnotizing, it enchanted you. His hair was long, darker brown, and it was perfectly falling onto his shoulders. You flipped throw some of the pictures and you got an idea. The way that he was looking fight into the camera, it did something to you. It felt as if he was staring right into your soul. On that photo he was also wearing eyeliner and that's what gave you the idea. The dark, hypnotizing look with few drops of liquid eyeliner.

You quickly grabbed your pencil and your sketchbook, placing the photos and his measurements in front of you as you threw yourself into your work. You started to draw the mannequin first. Then you started to draw the design for the costume. You started out with plain leather jacket and leather jeans. You decided that everything should be black. After you had that, you started to think of the way to make it stand out.

And that's when you rememberd something. You could just use something silver. At first you thought about putting jewelry on the costume, but you didn't want it to stop there. You picked up your pencil once again after taking a few, well more than a few, laps around your office. You took your sketch book, too, and you started to draw silver chains all over the costume.

You looked out of your window as you drew the last line on the costume and noticed that sun was slowly rising. You quickly grabbed a mannequin and some fabric and chains, and basically everything that you needed as you continued to work on it. After two hours your work was finally done.

The next day you were on your way to the studio where Jan Rozmanowski was supposed to meet you and was supposed to try on the costume for the first time. You carried the costume out of your car after you paked it not that far away from the entrance of the studio. Then you started to walk in through the door. You took the first turn to the left, just like you were told to do and there he was in all his glory.

You thought that he looked even better in person and once his eyes found yours you felt like there was no air in the room for a few seconds.

"Hello." You greeted him, a little bit nervously. "My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I'm a fashion designer that had to design the clothes for your performance."

"Hi!" He greeted you cheerfully as he approached you to give you a hug, that took you a bit off guard, but you were happy to return the hug none the less. "So nice to meet you, I'm Jan Rozmanowski or just Jann."

After the introduction and everything, you gave him the costume so he could try it on. Luckily, it fit perfectly.

Over the time, you would come to his performance and you would talk after, but not just about the clothes or the performance or about that. You were talking about all the personal stuff. You were talking to each other like you knew each other forever. It was silly truly, but you felt like you were slowly but surely falling in love. You really liked him and you were hoping that somehow he liked you more than a friend, too.

Jan would buy you a bunch of your favorite flowers as a thank you for everything that you did to help him. He would call you to get coffee with him. He also always, no matter what, invited you to his every rihursal, every gig, every performance. And you were always there.

After he found out that he will be presenting Poland in Eurovision he got so excited that, as soon as he could, he jumped down from the stage and kissed you.

Soon enough you started to date. You were his inspiration and he was yours, too. You were deeply in love with your muse.