#i hate having a job so much that even looking at this website makes be want to throw up

[69420angrycrabs]

indeed.com filter by jobs i DONT want challenge (impossible)

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader)

Konig needs help in decluttering and cleaning his house. Unfortunately for you, he takes quite a huge liking in having pretty things like you around. And he isn't very nice about it.

TW: Perverted Konig, age gap, Konig masturbates at you without consent, implied kidnapping, yandere Word count: 3754 This work on AO3

There is no shame in having a professional cleaner, König tries to tell himself. 

Yes, he is a grown man with a very dangerous job that requires having a lot of responsibility. He holds the lives of his soldiers in his hands and risks his life every day not for the sake of his country, but certainly for the sake of his wallet and the reputation of KorTac. 

Hiring a professional cleaner for his house shouldn’t make him feel humiliated and embarrassed, and he knows it. Cleaners are basically like soldiers – doing stuff that other people can’t for a certain amount of money, providing services for the clients who can afford it. Besides, it’s a support of his local community – after everything he took from the people around his town, it’s only natural that he would support this growing business of cleaning services. 

There is no shame in having some nice old lady cleaning his house and watching over it while he is too busy trying not to kill himself or drown his head in liquor after a particularly rough mission. When you lose two guys on a run that was supposed to be the quickest task possible when you’re returning home with an injury that isn’t really that serious but brings your whole mental state into a very dark place, and when you’re forced to take 3 weeks of leave in the place you hate, hiring a cleaner to take care of everything really shouldn’t make him so ashamed of himself. 

Even if he can clean his space – the house is just too big for only one of him, and his ribs still have this funny feeling of fantom bullets traveling around his guts. So, he dials up the number of the cleaning services because he is too fucking old to understand their weird website and messenger ordering, even though speaking with a human operator on the other half of the line is somewhat more humiliating that having no idea of how to use a modern interface. 

There is no shame in asking for help, his therapist is trying to shrill it in his head all of the time and yet he is still hesitant when the cleaning professional is knocking on his door, finding this place surprisingly fast. König braces himself, thinking about all the ways he could avoid having a conversation – he drew a quick map of the place, put down the room cleaner shouldn’t be entering – his gun safe, mostly, already repeated in his head how he would greet them and swiftly extract himself from the situation. 

“Guten Tag, please, come in. This is the map of the place, don’t go to the red door on the right, don’t hesitate to ask questions, I will be on the second floor.” He takes a few wide, swift steps to his door and stops. Thinks again, overthinking, thinking too fucking much about everything, anxiously checking on his phone to read the message that yes, his cleaner is here and he should probably open the door or they would burst down the window. “Guten Tag, come in. Map of the place is here, don’t go to the red door to the right, please hesitate to ask questions, I will be somewhere around the house, lurking in the shadows” He braces himself to open the door, ready to see that sweet old lady who would spend the next 8 hours cleaning his house and then turn back another day to rinse and repeat until his house stopped looking like a place where a very, very miserable man lives. (Even if this is true) 

But, there isn’t a nice old lady with a bunch of cleaning supplies and determination to make someone’s life easier. 

But, there isn’t a cold middle-aged woman with a very professional no-nonsense attitude who wouldn’t even talk to him before going straight to work. 

But, there is a young girl. Well, not a girl, of course, if he had to guess you were somewhere around the “Too fucking young, but definitely legal” spectrum. Young enough to not be alive when he was already going to school, young enough to make him sweat, and definitely not old enough to be accepting a job where you’d have to spend so much of your life cleaning and scrubbing and sorting and…

There isn’t anything shameful in ordering a cleaning service when you genuinely need it, but you’re young and you’re pretty and he isn’t even wearing a mask because he is an old dumbass that forgot about it, and you look at him with your shiny eyes and…

Maybe, he should clean on his own – would definitely be less shameful. 

— Sir? H…hello? Good morning? Can you hear me? 

Yes, he can hear you. 

Yes, he would love to hear you every single day of his life, when he wakes up and when he falls asleep. 

— Ja. I apologize, I…thought it was mail. 

It’s a dumb excuse, but he can’t really say that he was just too fucking mesmerized by your shiny eyes and perfect hair and nice figure and basically everything about you. He has this nasty habit of imagining a future with people around him – with people who just fucking want to be left alone, and yet he still stares and looks and it’s probably ultra uncomfortable for them – but he can’t help imagining the life with every cute lady in the grocery shop or elegant lady sitting next to him on a train. 

He has a pattern – people who are not interested in him in the slightest. He has a pattern, a preference, cute girls, smart girls, popular ladies that were never even so much as looking in his direction. He could probably score someone now, having a colonel’s salary and honorably discharged payments, but he gave up on trying to find anyone. He has friends, company, has work where he spent most of his life anyway – he doesn’t need anyone, he wants to think. 

Then you waddle into his life with a bunch of cleaning supplies and a small vacuum, barely able to handle everything in your hands. He rushes to help and envelops your hands with his – you are so much smaller in comparison, he has bear-like arms and horribly big everything. he feels awkward when he gently removes everything from your arms – when he tries to help by simply putting everything on the table of the next room. 

König hated this house – it was big, it was empty, and the only reason he didn’t sell it was because Mother’s things were still locked in her old bedroom and every time he tried to clean it and evaluate the cost of the house, he decided that he will Do It Other Day. Coincidentally, all of those days were also followed by three-month minimum missions, making him utterly unable to do everything about this place anyway. 

This is why you’re here – a hired cleaner, a sorter, you promised to de-hoard everything and see if there is anything of value. Perfect for someone like him, especially since he is paying you double for spending the whole day and a few days more in his house exclusively. 

Now, he looks at how awkward your smile is, how you fidget with the edge of the broom you brought, and how you can’t even start a conversation because he is simply staring at you, staying in the living room of this dead, almost abandoned house. Now, he looks at how cute you are, how perfect, and remembers that he didn’t score with anyone in half a year already – not even in terms of sex, the casual flirting was also forbidden since half of his unit was transferred and the new people weren’t really fun of his tough methods of breaking rookies in. 

When was the last time someone genuinely smiled at him? 

Ah, he is staring again. Scheisse. 

— Where do you want me to start, sir? 

He wonders how much he should pay you to clean him instead. Would you be gentle? Rough? Would you call him a pervert, which he is, and then slap him and yell at him for being such a horrible old dog who is ready to pounce at every pretty girl in his presence? He would do anything that would set his mind free of the thought about Mom. Her bedroom. This whole house that he can’t call home ever since he turned 6 and understood why Father was always so, so angry. 

— The living room. If it’s not too much. 

He barely stops himself from talking more – you look weird, you loom surprised, you look at him like he is fucking stupid and, in fact, he is. Of course, it wouldn’t be too hard for you, you’re his clean, for fucks sake. You come here to clean, you get good money for it, he shouldn’t feel guilty for using your services because, in some way, he actually provides you with a job and a cute thing like you shouldn’t go to other houses, with old perverts that can do unspeakable things with the adorable worker. 

Ah, yes, perverts like him. God, he is hopeless. 

— Alright. Do you want to note something, like if there is anything I shouldn’t touch? 

He would allow you to take your adorable, yellow glow-wearing hands to get into his personal savings and all of his bank accounts, if you’d want to. He curses under his breath, hating how professional you are – hard worker, perfect, simply a fantastic person who deserves more than working for him. You aren’t trying to shy away from the job and he almost resents you for it. 

You’d make a good soldier, he thinks – you’re able to hear the orders and oblige to them, you’re obedient and came even before the discussed time. You’d make such a perfect private for his unit, he observes. 

Ah, right, he was supposed to answer you. Shit. 

— No. Just don’t go to the second room on the left. 

— Alright. Anything else? 

He grumbles under his breath, trying to get into the right headspace to deal with someone like you. König knows it’s rude, to just ignore and leave you like this – but if he were to stay in he same room as you, he would do something horrible, disgusting, and completely dishonorable to you. So, he leaves – escapes – to his office. Father’s office, mostly, the only thing here that belongs to him are some documents and useless papers – and a laptop that he drags to every other room anyway. 

He doesn’t like this room, it reminds him of the worst episodes of his early childhood – yet, this is his only reserve. He doesn’t want to leave the house because the territory is secluded and if something were to happen to you, he would be the only one able to help. He also doesn’t want to leave his gun collection with you – he doesn’t want you to find it and freak out or hurt yourself. 

This is what he tells himself, at least. He wants to be there with you, in the same room preferably, but horrible for his anxiety, because he wants this illusion, phantasm of having a loving relationship. Of having a woman in his life, a lovely housewife who would cook for him, clean for him, and would be absolutely spoiled with gifts and attention. God knows he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body – but he will carve one out of his ribs for you. 

And he only knew you for an hour tops. 

König feels like literally the worst man alive when he spread his legs and starts stroking his hard, glistening cock. He brushes over the swollen, red tip, not allowing himself to have any lube other than spit and oozing pre-cum – he tries not to cum embarrassingly quickly, thinking about your perfect gestures and smiling face. How perfect you look in your cleaning uniform – not like maids from the occasional porn he was watching, but still beautiful. Your body is perfect even with all of those ugly layers and grey fabric – and he can’t stop thinking about the sway of your hips or glimpses of your legs under your dress.

He thinks about you, bent over his couch, trying to clean the especially dirty spot on the furniture – how the material of your dress would be tight around your ass. The image makes him grunt quietly, stroking his barely wet dick even more – the pain from the dry sensation only makes the pleasure all the sweeter. He is hard, was hard for the past 10 minutes as you were introducing yourself and whatever your deal is. He is dirty, perverted, knowing only your name and your face – and he is still stroking himself, thinking about paying you extra just so you’d get on your pretty knees and suck him. Would you be sloppy, messy, get his cum all over your face so you’d have to wash it off? Would you be experienced, eager, trying to get as much seed as possible with that pretty tongue of yours? 

He is a lost cause because he hears the sounds of vacuum – you’re only a few rooms away from him, trying so hard to clean his house for him, to work through every bit of furniture and everything he acquired for the past twenty years or so – and he moans loudly, knowing that you don’t hear anything. You’re probably listening to music or some silly girl’s podcast about planets and gardens and maybe some university lectures. He’d pay for your courses, he would get you any book you want – having his salary and barely spending it made him softer in the saving habits. 

He can afford to splurge on a pretty girl who just needs a rich Austrian mercenary to sweep her off her feet. But, he is old – but, he is a monster who preys on someone helpless, using her pretty face to jerk himself off, and he doesn’t even deserve your number, although he has had it since accepting the service. 

His cock is big, angry red in his hand as he runs his finger over the bulging vein, teasing the sensitive flesh – always loud in bed, with grunts and moans of pleasure, he can barely contain himself now, only forcing his mouth shut when he doesn’t hear the sound of vacuum anymore. He strokes his dick fast, angry, and slams it into his fist, trying to make the pain last longer, so he won’t cum after a minute or two. He has the stamina to last longer – but it’s also the first time he was so horny since…he can’t even remember. 

König thinks about putting you in his bed – like a perfect housewife, you would hug his waist with your legs, would allow him to lick and grope at your tits, and won’t scream too much when he’d force his tongue inside of your precious pussy, taking every last drop of your pleasure. He wouldn’t want to be forceful, angry, you’re too precious for this and too weak for his strength – but he can imagine slamming into you in a matting press, cumming inside and not even pulling out, warming his cock in the heat of your body. 

Father would kill him for doing something so dirty in his office – but he is long dead, devil save his soul, and it’s König’s office now. Even when he barely uses it, even if he doesn’t really need this. It came in handy when he had to jerk off to the pretty cleaning girl who cleaned up after him – so, somehow, his father managed to improve his mood 15 years after he died. 

He cums with a low groan, whispering your name – he doesn’t understand how a pretty thing like you still works here and wasn’t taken by someone else already, but he would take what he can get. Never the one to get the first dibs, never being someone’s first choice – he feels terrible for thinking about you in such a low way, but his pleasure sticks to his fingers and, at this point, it’s too late to feel bad. 

Drying the tip of his dick with a tissue, he spends a good few minutes with spread legs, his soft cock laying on the chair, with cum still oozing out – such a waste, honestly, would be much better to stuff you full of his cock or even take your pretty ass, spread you slowly. Keep only the tip in, not pressuring you into anything more until you’d start moving yourself, like a good slut you will be. 

So perfect under him – the images and sounds of your voice are running through his mind, making him breathe heavily. If he was younger and had as much sex drive as before, he would already be hard – but he needs some time to relax, thinking about your pretty legs and adorable face. 

It takes him a few minutes of listening to your sweet voice to understand that you were not, in fact, a hallucination or a mystical fairy coming to make him come. You were standing outside of the office door, looking embarrassed and clearly hearing at least some of his horny mumblings – you avoid looking at him, and your fingers are trembling when you tug at the sides of your dress. Guilt immediately rushes to him again, he looks at you like a perfect treasure you are – and he is a horrible monster trying to hoard all of it to himself. 

— What is it, liebling? 

Petname goes smoothly from his tongue and he can only hope that you don’t know German – he is too embarrassed to talk to you, too anxious, his newfound shyness is a result of both your beauty and the post-nut clarity that already made him feel like a monster. He contemplates just giving you money and sending you off, paying double for the false call, and leaving you a 5-star review so you won’t get in trouble with your boss. 

You look so meek from his angle of view – he has to fight the urge to pinch your face, squeeze your cheeks, grab your waist in his firm hands, and just lift you in his arms, holding you to his bed. Maybe getting a nice set of cuffs to ensure you would never escape from him. 

— I finished with the living room and…well, I just wanted to ask if you want the decluttering work to be done today or tomorrow. 

He remembers how he basically paid you for a few days worth of work – and he smiles at exactly how perfect this decision was. Of course, you are a smart girl, a modest girl, you aren’t staying the night and would rather waste time on the road, much to his dismay, but at least he would see you for a few days already. 

He might not even let you go after. 

— Ach. Today, if it’s not too…

He stops himself again – of course, it’s not too much, you are a professional, not just a friend that comes to clean his place for a pack of beer and maybe some pizza. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, anxiety eats him whole, and he has to just avoid looking at you to avoid further embarrassment. 

— Alright. I will do it right away then. 

You smile awkwardly, your lips are twitching and he already knows that you could hear him moaning your name and sweet little praises while stroking his cock. You aren’t biting the hand that feeds you, not running away screaming at how perverted he is – poor girl, you probably need money more than you need personal safety if you’re fine with him heaving like this. If you were his, he would never allow you to be so careless. 

He moves behind you in the most dreaded room of the house. Mother’s bedroom, a room that she only used for sewing and only allowed him in when he was extra whiny after another failed fight with his bullies. All of her thighs are here – ever since she passed away, he just moved everything to one room and locked it, barely bothering to keep a key. He hates being here, almost as much as being in Father’s office — this room smells like death and old paper and you scrunch your nose in an adorable expression when you take a step inside. 

— I will divide everything into categories, alright? 

— Gut.

You look at him nervously, clearly scared that he is watching over you now. It might feel like a logical decision – after all, it was his mother’s vintage things, who knows what kind of jewelry she kept here, something that he won’t even notice gone until it’s too late. You and him both know, however, that this isn’t the reason he is looming over you. A perfect obedient thing, you deserve something better than his affection, but he still locks his gaze with yours, looking at your hands and going through various furniture pieces. 

You work like a fairy, not an ounce of laziness or exhaustion in your actions – even after you already spent a few hours cleaning his living room, you act like a Cinderella that got a bunch of magic mice up her rags. He licks his lips, looking at your perfect ass you as sit on your knees, starting with decluttering every little box there is. 

— Can I just put it back in boxes or…

You look the the contents – vintage makeup, some jewelry, head pieces that don’t look particularly expensive but were definitely well-loved. You wonder who they belong to – probably a wife, or, maybe, some of his relatives who lived here. He doesn’t seem like a married or divorced man – he does, however, look insanely lonely. 

It takes him a good few seconds to respond, too mesmerized by the little song you were humming a minute before. He imagines you in that old, chunky jewelry, some necklaces that cost more than your salary – and the thought makes him salivate. 

He smiles, leaning closer to you – hot breath on your face, you shift immediately, scared. He is so fast for someone so big, his movements are perfect and his eyes are cold – you feel the chill deep in your bones when he moves even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours. 

Suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that he locked the door to this tiny room when you both moved in. 

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero!

Pt 6: Wet Cat

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 (You're here) - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10

Hey guys! So there may be some confronting scenes from this chapter onwards! (suicide mentions, panic attacks, abusive actions, etc) I will notify you at the start of the chapters if there is any from here on!

You feel sick.

Extremely sick.

The day you decided to have off left you thinking things over. Your mother basically lost her job, your father had shown aggressive behaviours in front of the two Waynes – not that they would care much but it was humiliating to think about – and on top of that the Waynes have proven that they will stoop so low!

All because you tried to keep your civilian identity a secret.

Telling your mother went as good as could be expected. She yelled, she walked around frantically, she smashed a plate and then she left.

Knowing her it would be your job to find a new job she can have. So, you open your laptop and start browsing. The laptop is old and barely works but it makes do. You scroll through the many websites for job searching.

You send the possible jobs to your mother before deciding that that was enough and closing your laptop. You open up your phone and browse through Instagram. As your scrolling a message notification pops up from an unknown number and you feel your head hurt – You’re sure this will be something stupid that will get you into trouble.

Pressing on the notification you read through the message.

"Hello,

I am Richard “Dick” Grayson. I am messaging you on behalf of Bruce Wayne as he doesn't want you contact taking up space."

You quirk a brow. You aren't an idiot, there's no links or anything pertaining to scam material and judging by how the message is written you doubt it's a prank.

You respond. It's the polite thing to do and you need some good karma.

"Hi! Is there something he needed?"

You cringe slightly at the exclamation mark, you only included it so he wouldn't think too poorly of you - though looking back on it you doubt it'll change much. He doesn't respond, surprise surprise, you sigh in frustration and turn off your phone.

Looking at the clock on the wall you see it's only ten in the morning. You couldn't be bothered to wait until night to rest so you make your way to your bed and fall into a nice sleep.

Meanwhile Dick was weirded out and confused, why did you seem so happy and excited in the message? Sure it wasn't much but punctuation changes everything!

He had only messaged because he wanted to harass you into blocking him so that you could get into trouble for not knowing what was going on - with the only way of knowing being through him.

But now, now he feels... Off. It's not like he feels bad but he doesn't feel right either.

He scoffs and turns off the phone, honestly he doesn't know how to respond to begin with. He leaves his room at the manor and walks down to the kitchen and passed Damian who was entertaining himself with Titus.

Dick grabs some water and leans against the counter in thought. If he was going to harass you he needed to be witty with it to the point of insanity otherwise you wouldn't get annoyed enough.

Opening up his phone once more he drafts up another message.

"He wants you to head down to the cafe in downtown Gotham."

He pauses, there's a couple cafes he's visited with his girlfriends before, despite the fact it was in a shady area.

"He said to go to The Wayne Memorial Cafe"

Dick waits for a response or even for the read sign to pop up but nothing happens. He furrows his brows, it's ten in the morning, what could you be doing that is more important than speaking to one of the members of the most influential family in Gotham? No, America!

Sleeping. That was what you were doing. You were enjoying it too.

That was of course until you were rudely awoken by your phone ringing with an unknown contact. You drowsily glance at it and answer the phone.

"Hello...?"

God. Your voice sounded like shit. You bitterly scowl at your voice.

"Finally. It's rude to ignore people's messages!" Dick chastises. You scrunch your nose in disgust and hang up immediately. You know you said you would try and be in his good graces but frankly you don't have the will power right now.

You quickly add his contact so you'd be less surprised and you turned off your notifications. You glance at his messages and raise a brow, why would Bruce want to meet up with you?

You sigh before sitting up and stretching slightly. You doubt Bruce would accept you not going.

You dress in something comfortable before grabbing your keys and your phone. You would bring your earbuds but you needed to stay vigilante if you were heading downtown.

The bus ride to the train station was crowded and the train was worse. This better be worth it.

You walk down to the cafe. The Wayne Memorial Cafe was made for Martha and Thomas Wayne, obviously, and is one of the nicest places in Gotham. Bruce funds it so it can stay open, clean and cozy.

You personally don't mind it, it's a nice small part of Gotham that seems untouched, out of place in downtown.

Approaching the cafe you notice some things off. There was no one around or inside the cafe and the lights were off. You couldn't see any movement so there couldn't be anyone inside either... The door was cracked open slightly letting out the air conditioning.

Opening the door to the cafe you were greeted with a bucket of ice cold water dumped on your head, the, luckily plastic and not metal, bucket hitting your head on the way down.

It feels like stones just fell in your stomach as the cold water drenches everything. Your clothes, your hair, your socks, your phone.

You look down, sensing someone nearby. You hear snickering and feel even sicker.

Of course it was a joke, Dick had thought it would be funny to do this.

You feel frustrated. You want to scream, punch, anything. But, instead, you feel tears flooding your eyes and the warm water contrasting with the cold water falling down your cheeks.

There's a lump in your throat and suddenly you're back in elementary school, kids surrounding you as your pinned to your locker and your water bottle is dumped on you. You had provided wrong answers to those kids on purpose and now you were paying the price.

They laughed, pointed fingers then left you damp and humiliated in a crowded hallway. You couldn't even be spared the jokes made afterwards because everyone saw. Everyone knew.

The jokes weren't horrible, just cruel.

You sniffle, you choke back a sob as you're brought back to the present. You furrow your brows angrily and you're sure your face looks ugly as you lift your head to glare at Dick Grayson who had stopped laughing and was now surprised.

You scoff, no words would come out. You're not sure you even wanted to speak to begin with. What would have even said to someone so influential? Nothing that wouldn't of gotten you in deeper shit.

To your amazing luck a clap of thunder rings through the tense, choking air and rain starts to pour down.

The sky was fine before, why now did it decide to rain? Why did life constantly fuck you over? You were so done!

You turn and walk off. Looking up at the crying clouds your scowl lifts slightly, at least now you aren't the only person who will be drenched and you can brush it off easily.

Dick was confused. It was funny at first. You looked like a wet cat, you looked stupid - it matched your opinions on Aranea.

But, then you were silent. That threw him off. Silence isn't something he particularly likes when he does something like that.

He saw the tears rolling down your cheeks, it was almost impossible to see though due to how soaked you were. He notices how the tears drop onto your now ruined phone - one that he doubts you can replace due to your financial status.

Still, you're just standing there, silent. It was unnerving. He couldn't see your eyes but he could tell that you were probably in your own head - memories maybe? Either way the silence was making him feel bad.

He expected yelling, screaming, punching or something! Something that could get you into more trouble. But this. This was just painful to watch. Guilt is the first word that comes to mind. He feels guilty.

He watches you lift your head, he's prepared for you to yell. You don't. You... Glare? That's not fair. Now he feels like a bad guy. He feels like the rich douche bullying the broke weakling.

He watches as you flinch slightly at the rain starting. You don't seem to notice your own actions. He grimaces as he watches you leave, he was supposed to be the hero in this scenario but looking back he doesn't even know how he could have been seen as a hero at all.

You are just a civilian, you just have opinions that differ. He knows more than anyone that people don't have to love what everyone else loves. He also knows that you took your hatred to a maximum - but never targeted Aranea directly.

He glances at his phone, he filmed the whole thing and had planned to send it to the group chat but now it just feels wrong to do.

The others know of his plan though and are awaiting the video. Surely, they'll also realize how south this all went and back off from (Reader)... Right?

Right.

So, with that thought in mind he sends the video to the lively GC and shuts off his phone. He has to make it up to you, otherwise his guilty conscience won't settle and calm down.

[buckyshoneybunny]

Spooky Secrets & Sweet Treats

College!Quarterback!Bucky Barnes + Curvy!College!Reader 

Summary- You and the gang decorate for Halloween and host a Halloween party. During which a heated argument starts up between you and Bucky, revealing some hidden truths. Will these new truths lead to a new relationship and a fresh start between you two, or will it become worse than before? 

W.C.- 3653 

Warnings- Smut, unprotected sex, poorly written smut

A/N- Hi! I really hope you guys like this, I honestly don’t know how to feel about this, like I love it but I also hate it lol. The picture above is roughly what the living room looks like, I designed it myself on a designing website. The other pictures aren’t mine. This will be part one of a series. Part two will be for Thanksgiving and part 3 Christmas, and so on. Not proof read. The back story I used is my own sooo yeah. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Oh and happy Halloween!!  

Masterlist  Series Masterlist

Having not eaten all day, your stomach rumbled in protest. You sat in the middle row of the lecture hall, Nat on one side, Yelena on the other. This was the last class of the day, your ADHD medicine wearing off causing you to be even more impatient. Your right leg bounced mindlessly under the table; Natasha placed her hand on your knee with a warning glance. You stop and mumble out an apology.   

You couldn’t help it honestly, today was Halloween, not your favorite holiday but still. You were sizzling with excitement. You, Natasha and Yelena (your roommate's), Nat’s boyfriend Steve and his two friends Sam and Bucky, were coming over after class. The guys would be making the food while you girls set out the decorations and got everything ready. That’s right, you were having a Halloween party!  

You were never one for parties, not that you didn’t like them you just weren’t ever invited in high school. No one wanted the shy girl at their party. But since meeting Nat and Lena you’ve grown more confident, you were still shy, that was just who you are, but you’re a little more outgoing than you once were.  

There was just one tiny problem, Bucky. You loathed that man, and according to him the feeling was mutual. Every little thing he did annoyed you, he made sure he went out of his way just to piss you off. With his stupid, cocky smirk, sparkling white teeth, gorgeous shoulder length, chocolate brown locks that he let grow out since meeting you. Even those shirts that seem three sizes too small, showing off his delicious abs that you just wanted to li- 

Stop that! 

You mentally climbed out of that rabbit hole, not wanting to go too deep. No matter how much you wanted to get a taste of the star quarterback, you hated each other and that was all it was ever going to be. 

After what you’re sure is another 20 minutes, the professor finally dismisses everyone. You quickly gather your things and dart out the lecture hall, Natasha and Yelena hot on your heels.   

Shivering as you stepped outside, you wrapped your jacket tighter around you, the cool autumn breeze blew about. Fall colored leaves littered the sidewalk, crunching under your feet. 

You smiled. You loved fall and winter, everything just seemed happier. Holidays back-to-back, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. You loved Christmas. The sparkle of Christmas lights, curling up on the couch wrapped in a blanket watching Christmas movies, you just loved it.   

The party started at nine, so you had roughly five and a half hours to get the supplies, set everything up, and get ready yourselves.  

“You excited?” Nat asks, drawing you away from your thoughts. You three walking to your house on the far end of the campus. It was a two story, three bedrooms, two bath house. Nat and Lena’s parents were rich, having some sort of high-end job in the government.  

“Duh,” you laugh.  

“Even though he’s going to be there?” Yelena pipes up. You sigh. 

“I’m determined to not let him get to me; I am going to have a good time tonight.” 

“You say that every time,” Nat snickers.  

“Yeah well, I mean it this time, he’s not ruining this party for me,” you defend.  

“You say that too,” Yelena giggles. 

“Say what?” The annoying voice you know too well asks before you can say anything. Turning around you find Bucky, Steve, and Sam following you guys. Steve wraps an arm around Nat, kissing her forehead. Sam ruffles Yelena’s hair.   

Clad in his signature black leather jacket, the six-foot something wall of muscle wore blue jeans, red henley under the jacket, and his combat boots. This isn’t fair, why does he have to look so hot? His hair pulled into a small bun at the base of his neck. 

“Nothing James,” you roll your eyes. You could see the tick in his jaw, he hated being called by his first name. 

 “Come on, princess,” he spits bitterly. “Keeping secrets from me now?” You just huff and keep walking in the direction of your house.  

Princess. That name made your blood boil, you despised it, and he knew it too. It wasn’t the name that bothered you really, just the way he said it, like you were some spoiled brat. You most definitely weren’t. You didn’t even know why he called you that, but that was the name he’d given you the night you first met. 

You weaved your way through the mass of people, trying to reach the kitchen. Natasha had dragged you to this party, claiming it was way past due to meet the gang. Yelena wasn’t any help, going right along with Nat’s plans. When one sister had her mind set to something, the other backed her up and to say they were a force to be reconned with was an understatement. 

Before you could reach the kitchen, you smacked right into a wall, or what you thought was a wall until two strong, veiny hands shot out to steady you before you could fall. Looking up you see a pair of steel blue eyes boring into yours. The man had a sharp, clean shaved jaw, his brown hair short and fluffy, and stuck up in all different directions. His full, pink lips moved, saying something you didn’t quite catch. You realized you had been staring for too long. 

“What?” You ask loud enough over the music.  

He chuckles. “I said, are you alright, ...?”  

“Oh! I’m Y/N, and yes, I’m fine. Thanks for catching me,” you smile. “And you are?” 

His smile falls. “Bucky,” he says gruffly. “Watch where you’re going next time, princess,” he spits out bitterly before expertly weaving through the crowd.  

You stood there confused for a moment, wondering what the hell happened. Natasha told you to give him some time and he’d warm up to you. To everyone’s surprise, he never did. 

Your shoulders relaxed as you breathed a contented sigh as you stepped inside your shared home. A fireplace with shelves lined on either side. When you moved in Nat and Yelena let you decorate, you had taken interior design in high school so you knew how to make certain things work. A light grey couch sat in the center, with a coffee table in front of it, and a TV mounted on the wall above the fireplace.  

Nat let you take the lead, directing everyone. She knew how your OCD and ADHD could get, especially when it comes to planning things like this, everything had to be a certain way. Bucky rolled his eyes and mumbled some smart remark under his breath. Once everyone was assigned a job you all got to work.  

Steve and Sam went to the store, Bucky started to chop firewood to help keep the house warm-you liked using that rather than the heater, made it cozier, plus it saved money. Nat and Yelena worked on getting the Halloween decorates out of the shed. You did a quick clean, making room for the foldable tables Steve and Sam were getting. You scolded Bucky when he tracked mud through the house, to which he flipped you off.  

Once the boys got back and the decorations were all set up and tables put up, everyone got ready. Natasha and Steve dressed up as superheroes, Sam as a Falcon, ever the nerd he is. Yelena dressed up as a vampire, Bucky was, well you didn’t know what he was. All you knew was he’s half naked and making your panties sticky.  

And last but not least, you dressed up as a bunny, well sort of. You wore a soft pink short cotton skirt with a bunny tail, a matching cotton crop, and bunny ears. Steve painted on a bunny nose. You were very unsure of the outfit at first, but Nat and Yelena, both assured you that your curves look delicious in that outfit.  

Once everyone was dressed Steve and Sam fired up the grill to start cooking, Nat and Yelena setting out the condiments and other various food items. Bucky got the fire going, having paused to help Steve and Sam set the tables up when they got back. You added a few finishing touches to the decorations, moving a few things, stuff like that. You idly wondered why Bucky was so quiet, usually he’d have you clawing your eyes out by now.  

But Bucky was in his own little world. He leaned back on his haunches once the fire was set. He glanced over at you, taking in your outfit. His tight ripped jeans did nothing to hide the effect it had on him. He'd seen you glance at his bare chest multiple times by now, he didn’t have a costume in mind. He just threw on some old, tight, ripped black jeans, if anyone asked what he was he’d think of something.  

He watched as you moved a few decorations, a pout on your soft pink lips. Your brows were furrowed in a frown, he wanted to reach out and smooth it with his thumb. He shook his head to try and clear those thoughts, looking away before you could catch him.  

Yes, he hated you, but that didn’t mean that your curves didn’t make his cock throb and his head fuzzy. The way you looked in those heels, how they made you sexy legs look long and soft. But you were this self-entitled princess who always had to have her way, it pissed him off, everyone loved you. Even your creative writing professor you guys had seemed to adore you, it made his blood boil that you were the teacher's pet. 

If only he knew. 

He remembers how you had him all figured out before you guys even met.  

Bucky scanned through the crowd of people in his house. He, Steve, and Sam threw a celebration party for winning last night's game. Steve had invited his girlfriend, which she invited her sister and their roommate.  

He was quite excited to meet this gorgeous angel Natasha always talked about. He spotted Natasha and Yelena; the third girl had her back to him. He could only assume the third girl was you, your soft Y/H/C pulled into a braid. The blue jeans you wore hugged your thighs, your tank top hugging your chest and curves. 

He smirked, you really were gorgeous. As he walked closer, he could hear your honeyed voice. He frowned when he heard what you were saying. 

“I don’t see how I could like someone like him,” you tell Nat. “He’s probably some fuckboy like every other football player. Some jerk with a high ego.”  

Your tone sounded disgusted; he huffed a breath. Any excitement he had for meeting you was long gone. He was so fucking tired of people associating him with the stereotypical quarterback. He wasn’t a fuckboy, far from it.  

He'd only been with a few women, contrary to what everyone believed. He didn’t fuck them and leave, no, his ma raised him better than that. He took them out, treated them right, the perfect gentlemen. He was dedicated to any and all his relationships, they just never seemed to work out.  

So, when he ran into you later that night, literally, he put up the wall that he hides behind and brushed you off.  

A couple of hours later the party is in full swing, people dancing, music blaring. You step out on the back patio, needing a break from the noise and people. You sit in one of the outside chairs, looking at the stars. You mentally scold yourself for not bringing a jacket as you shiver. You feel fuzzy as the whiskey you’d been drinking takes effect. 

A few minutes later a sweaty Bucky opens the sliding glass door. He pauses when he sees you. He huffs and closes the door, taking a deep breath of fresh air. You turn away from him, ignoring his presence. You hear the door open a couple of times before you feel a warm leather jacket being set over your shoulders.   

The jacket smells of leather and pine, mixed with something else, Bucky. You turn your head to see the man himself standing behind you.  

“I don’t need your stupid jacket, James,” you huff and move to slide said jacket off. He places his big hands on your shoulders, keeping the jacket in place.  

“Can you for once stop being a fucking brat and just take the goddamn jacket?” He snaps, feed up with your constant attitude.  

You shove his hands off you and stand up. “What the hell is your problem?!” You yell, finally at your breaking point.  

“My problem?!” He yells back. “My problem is you’re a self-entitled brat who always gets what she wants. Who thinks she knows everyone, well news flash princess, you don’t.”  

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”  

“You making assumptions about me before you even get to know me.” You give him a confused look so he continues. “That night at the party you told Nat how you couldn’t ever like someone like me, how I’m an egoistic fuckboy. I'm so fucking tired of people making assumptions.”  

Guilt settles into bones; you hadn’t realized he heard you. “Oh, Bucky I’m so-”  

“No, you know what?” He continues, cutting you off. “You’re the one with the high ego, everything just has to be your way, doesn’t it? This has to go there, that over there. Everything has to be perfect for little miss sunshine.”  

“Wh-” 

“No, you’re gonna shut the fuck up for once and listen to me. And it’s not just that, you always get what you want, everyone fucking babies you and adores you. Even the fucking professors love you. I mean it’s pretty obvious you’re a teacher’s pet-” 

“Enough!” You yell, your voice breaking. He goes quiet, panting from his rant.  

“I’m not the teacher’s pet, she checks up on me to make sure I’m okay. After she read my memoir for our memoir assignments, she started to check up on me. Making sure I was safe where I’m at, if I had a trusted adult to talk too.” 

“Awe, did the princess have a few bad memories that she wrote about? Hmm? Well news flash princess everyone has bad memories, that doesn’t excuse that you always get what you want.”  

“You know what, fine! You wanna know why I am the way I am?” You yell. “Growing up I didn’t have a fucking say in anything! I was treated like a piece of property; my own father called me his property! I did everything for them, I was 14! 14 and if I didn’t cook or clean no one would.” Your voice breaks. 

Bucky goes to say something but you keep going. “My own grandmother got my entire family to hate me and I was only 3, it took years for them to finally figure the truth out. My father would guilt trip me, manipulate me. I took care of my mother at her lowest, watched her on the verge of death and she still favors my brother. Nothing I ever did was good enough! I could go on forever about how fucked up everything was, James.” 

Bucky stands there in shock. “Wow...I um...” He doesn’t know what to say. 

“I’m sorry for judging you before I got to know you, I really am. But do not call me a brat and say I always get what I want.”  

You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart. Both of you stand there in silence, filled with guilt at how you’ve both been acting.  

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. You nod. 

“Me too,” you whisper back. 

Neither one of you knows who moves first, but one moment you’re looking each other in the eye and the next Bucky has his tongue tangled with yours. He tastes of beer and cake, you moan softly, Bucky swallows the sound like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever had. 

His hands, both metal and flesh, grip your ass and pull you closer. His hard bulge grinds against your naval, he groans. When the need for air gets too great, Bucky pulls back and starts to litter your neck with sloppy wet kisses.  

“My room,” you shudder. “Now.” 

“So fucking bossy,” he grumbles. He throws you over his shoulder and goes back inside. No body pays any attention to either of you, too busy dancing or too drunk to care. He takes the stair two at a time.  

You get bold and slide your hands into his jeans, groping his bare ass, he had gone commando. He slaps your ass in retaliation, causing you to yelp. He finally reaches your bedroom, kicking the door shut and tossing you on the bed. You slide up the bed, shoving the pile of stuffed animals onto the floor as you go. Bucky kicks his boots off and climbs on top of you.  

Bucky attaches his lips to your neck, sucking and biting. You moan and pull the hairband out of his hair, tangling your fingers in the soft strands of hair. You tug and he groans, you tug harder and he bites down hard.  

He kisses down your collar bone to your chest, yanking the crop top off you and groaning when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. He takes one nipple in his mouth, sucking and nipping as it hardens. You let out a high-pitched whine, the pain mixing with pleasure. His metal hand kneads the other, causing you to shiver at the temperature difference. He switches, giving them both the same treatment.  

Once he’s had his fill, he starts to kiss down your stomach, hands groping your thighs.  

“These fucking thighs,” he grumbles. “You have any idea how many times I thought of these gorgeous, thick thighs. Fuck.” He’s thought of you? 

He pulls your skirt down your legs, tossing it somewhere behind him. He gently undoes the straps on your heels and slides them off. He slides his hands up your thighs, one hot and one cold, he spreads them and groans. He leans forward and licks at your clit through the fabric of your panties, moaning at the taste of your juices.  

“Bucky!” You gasp and grip his hair.  

“So fucking good,” he mumbles, mouthing at your pussy. He grips your ass, holding you up and shoving his face into your pussy even more. The fabric gets wetter, a combination of your juices and his saliva.  

You whine his name and tug his hair, pulling him back up to kiss him, moaning at the taste of your juices on his tongue.  

It’s a mess of messy kisses and fumbled movements as Bucky kicks off his jeans and socks, pausing to grind his cock against your panties. Your eyes widen when you see him, he chuckles and tells you not to worry, he’ll fit.  

“Bucky please,” you whine.  

“I know, baby, I know,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. “I gotta prep you first.” 

He rips your panties off, flinging the ruined fabric to the other side of the room. He reaches down with his flesh hand, spreading you slick over your clit before carefully inserting one finger.  

You moan and wiggle your hips, impatient. He flicks your thigh and tells you to be patient. He adds a second finger, then a third. He slowly opens you up, teasing and torturing you, rubbing that spot that makes you see stars.  

Two can play this game.  

You reach down and grab his aching cock, thumbing the slit and spreading the precum that’s gathered there. Bucky moans and bucks his hips, cursing.  

“Bucky please, I’m ready. Just fuck me already.”  

He grunts and pulls his fingers out, sucking them clean. “I’m clean but I have a condom in my wallet.” 

You shake your head. “I’m clean and on birth control.”  

“Fuck yes,” he groans. He flips you over, making you face down, ass up. “This fucking juicy ass.” He slaps your ass a couple of time, groping the juicy flesh hard.  

“Please,” you whine and push back against him.  

Finally, he takes pity on you and lines himself up. He slides all the way in on one thrust, both of you moaning. He gives you a moment to adjust before setting a brutal pace. 

He angles his thrusts just right and you don’t think you’ve ever been fucked this good in your whole life. He leans down, plastering his sweat slicked chest to your back and kisses your shoulder and neck.  

You make little noises with every thrust, fueling Bucky, his own groans and grunts right next to your ear.  

“So fucking tight, shit,” he moans into your shoulder. He reaches down and starts to rub tight circles over your clit and you cry out.  

“Fuck! Bucky please!” 

“Can feel you squeezing me, baby. You gonna cum? Hmm?”  

“Yes! Please! I’m so close!” You moan. 

“Cum.” His thrusts turn even more punishing, if possible, focusing on that spot. Your thighs start to shake. His perfect thrusts and the pressure on your clit push you over the edge. Your eyes roll back, hands griping the sheets so tight they could rip.  

Bucky's pace stutters, you clenching his so tight he cums seconds after you do. He collapses on top of you, both of you trembling and panting.  

He rolls off you to the side, pulling the sheets over you both and spooning you from behind. You both succumb to sleep minutes later, too exhausted to talk about what just happened. 

______ 

The morning sun shines through your blinds, the birds chirp outside your window. You groan and roll over, not wanting to get up just yet. You reach out for Bucky, only to find cold sheets.  

Bucky was gone. 

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Eyes on the mirror - part 2.

Pairing: neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader Rating: +18, NSFW Words count: 3814 Summary: Dinner at Frankie's mom's is a disaster, she doesn't like you at all but her son doesn't fail to show you how much he likes you instead. Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, reader wears a dress and heels, she has hair but it's not described, no mention of her skin tone, she doesn't blush, she understands Spanish (but I didn't write sentences in Spanish because I don't know how to do it and I don't want to do it badly when I'm already writing in a language that is not my native), Frankie's mom is pretty conservative, traditionalist and closed-minded and she's mean towards reader, unprotected p in v (do better irl, please), sex in front of a mirror, oral (m receiving), Frankie is a good man ❤︎ and we love that for him. A/N: It's an emotional work, it's smut, but it's smut with feelings and I think I put a lot of myself into it. So I ask you to be especially delicate. This Frankie is the same guy from You look like a fun place to sit and Give me more. Thanks again @aurorawritestoescape and @arcanefox207 for your precious help and advices ❤️ I made a few changes from the first draft, English is not my first language, any mistake is still on me, so if you come across one I’m very sorry. @joelmillerisapunk just 🥹🥹🥹💖 Part 1 ⎮ Frankie Masterlist ⎮ Masterlist

Frankie's mom has the same eyes as her son, brown, big and deep, but there is a sharpness in them that does not belong to Frankie's. 

She has a simple, well-groomed appearance, wearing a white tunic dress that comes down to her knee, her hands are slightly cracked but her manicured nails are painted a pearly pink. 

She is a short, thin woman with the haughty, imperious appearance of someone who doesn’t let anyone step on her toes, a woman ready to bargain, to work hard, to take care of an entire household without anyone's help.

She's a tough lady and you're pretty sure she hates your guts.

 She addresses you rather nicely but you can tell something is wrong.

Her tone of voice sounds mocking and she's constantly whispering things to Frankie in Spanish that you don't hear well but you're pretty sure aren't anything nice.

“So what do you do, dear?” she asks you with a forced smile, sitting at the head of the table as she has arranged you and Frankie facing each other.

“I…um…work in a graphic design studio,” you mutter.

Frankie quickly adds, “She's so good at her job!” 

The way he’s trying to enhance your skills since you arrived moves you, but his mom doesn’t seem impressed.

Mrs Morales is intimidating, staring at you like she’s trying to catch every single flaw you have.

You can't even use your usual sarcasm because she would surely think you were insolent and certainly not right for his son.

“Have you done anything that I might have seen? Any national commercials?” she prods.

“Um, I don't think so, we're a pretty small studio at the moment, we've mostly worked on graphics for local stores and websites for professionals here, you know.” 

“Oh.” She raises her eyebrow. ”I see.”

Trying to compliment her, you say the food is delicious, the best you've ever eaten, and she reserves a cold “thank you”

Then she presses you again, “Can you cook?”

You lower your gaze to your plate and admit, “no, actually, I'm not very good at cooking.” 

“What do you usually eat?” she asks suspiciously. 

"Um...well...I can cook pasta and eggs..." you try to say and she looks at you in shock as if you just said donkeys can fly.

“Mom, please” Frankie tries to calm her down and she hisses at him “she will starve you!”

He hisses in turn “I am not perished! And she’s adorable, she’s smart, kind, funny and beautiful”

You feel Frankie's sorry look comforting you from across the table, he's doing what he can and you are truly grateful, but right now there’s nothing that can make you feel happy to be here.

You don't want to fight with her because you love Frankie and you know he loves his mother, you don't want to lose him because of scowling at her.

You see her giggling and shaking her head and you feel like crying but you don't, you don't want her to add ‘pathetic’ as one of your flaws.

She turns to Frankie and says something like, “How can you be with someone like that?” in Spanish. 

Frankie leans over the table and reprimands her, “Mom, stop it.”

She responds irritated in Spanish, “why? She is no good at cooking, and that job? Tsk, you don't want to marry her, do you?”

Frankie rolls his eyes and hisses, “Mom!”

You understand Spanish just fine but all this whispering is putting a strain on you, you just want her to see how much you care about Frankie and for her to like something about you. 

Even the dress didn't have the effect you had hoped for, she looked down on you even though her son had chosen it.

You brought her flowers and a cake to be nice and she huffed about the flowers because she would have to find a suitable vase to put them in and as for the cake, you bought it, so obviously it’s another proof of your failures in the culinary field.

She waves her hand at Frankie to shush him and turns back to you.

“Do you want anything else, sweetheart?” nodding at the serving dishes in the center of the table with another fake smile. 

Your stomach churns and you respond politely that you are full.

She turns back to Frankie, squinting her eyes, "she won't even eat! how is she going to give me grandchildren?!”

You look at your hands resting on your lap, feeling lousy and tired. 

Frankie must see this clearly because he finally blurts out, “Mom, if you don't stop now, we're leaving! She has done nothing wrong to you to be treated like this”

Mrs. Morales brings a hand to her chest, a shocked grimace is painted on her face. 

 “How dare you address your mother like that! I'm just trying to protect you, she's clearly not good for you!” She no longer even bothers to say it whispering in Spanish so that you wouldn't understand, in fact you think she said it loud and in English precisely so that her disappointment would be clear to you. 

You get up while they are still busy arguing and lock yourself in the bathroom. 

You knew this evening would be a disaster, but you hoped so hard that you were wrong. 

You’re glad Frankie stood up for you but you never wanted him to fight with his mother because of you. 

You hear their angry voices in the distance as they continue to argue and you feel so guilty.

You sit on the floor on the turquoise tiles in Mrs. Morales' bathroom, thinking only about how much you want to get out of here.

After a few minutes you hear a knock on the door. 

 “Honey, open up, it's me” You get up and reluctantly open the door.

“Hey, come here” Frankie says to you as soon as he sees your eyes on to the brink of tears.

He closes the door behind him and takes you in his arms, holding you tightly. 

You hide your face in his chest, letting the soothing warmth of his body envelop you. 

He strokes your back and whispers, “I'm so sorry, you don't deserve any of this.”

“I wanted her to like me so much,” you sob. 

“I know, honey, it's not your fault. She is fixated on things I don't care about. But you don't have to worry, everything will be fine.”

You pull away from him “I don't want you to fight over me”

"She can’t treat you like that, I'm the one who wants to be with you, and I like you the way you are.”

“Yeah, but…it’s still your mum,” you murmur.

“I gave her a little speech, don’t worry, you’ll be fine now,” 

Frankie smiles, leaving a kiss on your forehead and caressing your cheek, wiping away your tears. “Don’t cry.”

“What did you say to her? You didn't threaten her not to visit again, did you?” you ask worriedly. His eyes become a little shy, he’s quiet for a moment and then whispers to you, “no, I didn't tell her that.” 

“What then?” his enigmatic expression that doesn't let anything out intrigues and agitates you. 

He looks straight into your eyes and candidly admits, "I told her that I love you." 

You've felt it in the air for some time but now that you've heard it come out of his mouth, plain and simple, you are stunned. 

“Do you mean it?” You ask in a low shaking voice, looking into his big brown eyes for evidence of his sincerity. 

"I've never been so serious, miss," he smiles at you, expectantly. 

And then you feel you can say it, no matter how scary it is for you, “I love you too.” 

It doesn't seem real to you that you have just made yourself so vulnerable in front of him, your neighbor who until a few months ago was bothering you while now you feel you have a total and deep connection with him, no matter how much you poke and bicker at each other, your heart sings every time you are with him and you feel it loud and clear in your chest as it skips a beat every time Frankie looks at you a certain way, smiling with his eyes, with those little wrinkles around them and that dimple on his cheek that you adore. 

You love the way he mumbles in the morning as soon as he wakes up, the way he stretches under the covers and then again as soon as he gets up, his golden skin under the morning light, his playfully mischievous eyes that settle on you while you're still lying down trying to wake up, the way he always leans down to give you a kiss, whispering, “Good morning, princess.”

You also love how he keeps that silly little cap glued to his head at every opportunity.

You like kissing him and feeling his lips tasting like coffee, you like the way he hugs you as if he wants to shield you with his body and protect you from the world, you like the way his eyes become attentive and receptive when they rest on you and the way he listens to you, remaining silent and caressing your hand as if to invite you to tell him anything that is on your mind. 

You love how loyal he is to his friends, how he takes care of people, you love when he tries to make you breakfast even though he leaves a mess in your kitchen as if a barbarian invasion passed through.

And you love him now, standing in his mother's bathroom, hugging you as if only you existed in the world. 

“I love you,” you repeat and he looks at your face as if he wants to study the map of how much you truly care about him on it.

His hands slide down your back to your butt and he pushes you hard against him without breaking eye contact. 

His eyes are dark, his pupils dilated, he squeezes your butt tightly and then kisses you. 

You know exactly what he wants and you whisper into his mouth as soon as you break away from the passionate, deep kiss in which he engulfed you, “Not here, come on, take me home.”

He turns to the door and locks it still holding you close. 

“Let it go, baby, it’s okay” he replies and winks at you.

Feeling so desired by him is a real relief after feeling stupid and unfitting all night.

He turns you to the large mirror above the sink, leans to your ear and whispers, “Look at yourself.”

His hands move up your back, reach for the zipper of your dress, and begin to pull it down.

You look at him and he rebukes you, “eyes on the mirror, honey. Watch yourself while I do it.”

He slides off your dress breathing on your skin while you keep your eyes fixed on the mirror. 

You remain in your bra and panties. 

He brushes against your skin, rising on your arms only with his fingertips, climbing up your shoulders, your collarbone, the point where your shoulders and your neck meet and up to the column of your neck until he reaches your jaw. He tilts your head a bit and holds your chin to make sure you’re going to watch the entire time.

He holds you so that you can lean against him, and with his other hand he reaches down to your stomach, touching the hem of your panties.

You sigh happily as he slides two fingers under the fabric and caresses your folds, slides down the sides to the bottom and pushes upward. 

You moan softly, “Frankie, please” 

“Don’t be impatient, babe” he reprimands.

He curls your panties between his fingers and starts brushing them over your folds, you whine at the sensation as he tilts your head down a little bit to make sure you’re seeing what he’s doing. However you would not be able to watch anything but his movements. Right, left, right, left Frankie's fingers expertly maneuver the fabric over your pussy.

Your inhibitions are long gone, everything is faded and far away. 

There is only you and Frankie.

He suddenly lets go of your panties and massages you over them, soaking the material in your juices. You’re so wet that it doesn’t take much for his fingers to get wet too. 

Your breath becomes shallow as his hand slithers under the fabric and he begins circling your clit.

You can already feel your legs going weak so you raise your arm and place your hand behind his neck to keep yourself more stable against him. 

“Yeah, just like that honey. You want me to make you feel real good, huh?” Frankie’s voice vibrates against your neck and you mewl a yes feeling your body mold for him. 

Your eyes are fixed on the mirror.

You see your hot and bothered face, your lips parted, your pleading eyes and your body impossibly tense against him. 

It’s all painted there, the amount of desire and hunger that you have for him, a grimace of lust and need spread out on your features. 

“Fuck me,” you babble.

“Yeah? You want my big cock inside, baby? Want me to fill you to the brim?” Frankie’s smirk is wide on his face, you see his eyes focused on you, and his commanding tone sends shivers down your spine as he doesn’t stop rubbing on your clit. 

“Yes” you breathe “please”

Your legs wobble as you try to stand on your feet while he undresses. 

His shirt falls on his mother’s bathroom tiles, he unbuckles his belt and places it on the countertop, he kicks off his boots, unbuttons his jeans and slides them down his legs, stamping on them to get them off his feet.

Through the mirror you see him standing behind you, wearing only his boxers, the muscles of his chest highlighted by the lights, his soft belly just above his boxers that makes your mouth water, the happy trail that goes to hide inside, his strong thighs and the imperious erection that grows between them.

 It's a perfect picture of everything that makes your head spin.

“On your knees, baby, I want to feel your mouth first,” he orders you. 

You immediately kneel, feeling your heart flutter in your chest, the coolness of the tiles on your shins, and his simmering gaze dominating you from above.

You caress his hips, pulling down his boxers, and taking them off, and his cock finally springs free and almost smacks your face towering before your eyes. 

You take him in your hand, feeling that familiar warmth, the softness of his skin, the pulsing of his veins, as he leaks pre cum within an inch of your lips.

As soon as it slips on your tongue you feel a new slick of arousal dripping on your panties.

You lace your gaze with his, your open mouth curved at the edges in a smirk as you let him in, you love doing this to him. 

You usually take in as much as you can while taking care of the rest with your hand but tonight you want to feel it all the way down, so you relax your throat as much as you can and keep sliding it until you feel the tip touch the bottom. 

You have a slight hint of a gag reflex that you manage to quell right away and you keep him there, nestled inside you, pulsing on your tongue as he looks at you raptly and whispers, “God, you're amazing.”

And then you begin to suck him, slowly, enjoying every moan and every involuntary twitch of his hips, cocooning him with your tongue.

You’re fully immersed in the act, intent on giving him all the lustful pleasure you can, licking his tip like a lollipop, swirling your tongue around and collecting his oozing pre cum.

And then you go down again, spreading it on his shaft, mixing it with your saliva, hollowing your cheeks to suck him as deep as you can.

Frankie is whimpering and you know how much he’s close to the edge.

Your hand caresses his base, then you move it to his balls, with every intention of getting him to finish in your mouth and swallow everything he gives you but he grabs your wrist, stopping you.

You let him out with a pop, passing the tip over your lips and smacking it against them twice, wetting them with his pleasure.

You give him a mock pout for stopping you but the truth is you can't wait to feel him split you in two. 

He smiles at you, taking your hand and helping you up, you give him a kiss with your mouth still smeared with him. 

He turns you back towards the mirror and gently orders, “bend over the sink”

He slides your panties down your legs, exposing your drenched pussy, bending down to admire it, “So fucking wet…it’s all for me, baby?”

“Just for you, always,” you turn to look at him and see him leaning behind you as he reaches down and licks your folds, a long deep lick that makes you gasp.

“So good, honey, I would never get tired of this perfect pussy.” His voice vibrates on your skin sending a thrill all over your body.  “It’s the only part of you that I like to see weep for me” 

His rough voice charged with ardor and his words send you into a frenzy.

He comes back to stand behind you and looks at you in the mirror, resting his large hands on your hips, “You are so fucking beautiful like this.”

You feel his cock rub against your folds, and you throb intensely overwhelmed by your craving, you mewl at him and he finally aligns with your entrance and starts to push in. 

You slowly stretch around him, he groans as he slides into you, every inch of his length parting your walls.

His hands still clasp your hips, holding you steady as he gives you a moment to adjust. 

You're full of him and you wouldn't want to be any other way.

Frankie holds you firmly as he sinks into you, slowly at first and then increasing the pace as your moans grow rougher and closer, his balls slamming against your ass in a feverish rush.

“Fuck, baby, you’re squeezing my cock so hard.”

He pulls you toward him, his fingers reaching for your nipples, tweaking and tugging.

You can't help but look in the mirror now and what you see is the most exciting sight you've ever had before your eyes.

Your body is completely surrendered to him, your skin glistening with tiny droplets of sweat, your hair disheveled, your expression ecstatic, Frankie's hands firmly clinging to your hips as the wet, squelching sounds of his cock pounding incessantly in your cunt fill the room along with your moans and Frankie's groans.

And Frankie is literally a dream, his broad figure towering over you, his mouth roaming your neck, his hands enveloping your tits, squeezing them so right. 

He’s completely lost in you, his eyes half-closed, his tongue darting out from time to time soothing your sweaty skin. 

Now you know that you have never experienced such strong feelings in your life. 

You thought so, but you were wrong. 

It’s not the usual cliché of feeling complete with someone else, you are already a whole. 

It’s the fact of knowing that you can share with him, that you do not have to be afraid to be who you are with him. It is the fact that he knows how to understand the workings of your brain and unravel the skein that tangles it. It is the fact that you can feel that there is nothing you cannot face together. It is the fact of feeling seen, perceived for who you really are and held close for it.

It's knowing that wherever you run, Frankie will pick up the crumbs you leave on the road and bring them back to you.

And you had no idea that it could really be like this.

You always thought, it's only 4 months, don't push it when in the meantime he proceeded to tiptoe into your heart without even being noticed and sat there, waiting for both of you to be ready to say the most terrifying words out loud. 

Not "I need you" but "I'm so damn happy you're here", not "you're mine" but "I love holding your hand as I navigate my life.”

Not by owning, but by letting you do your own thing while you look at each other and think, “this is the person I love and I am proud of them.”

You're just out there being the most fragile human sometimes but you're never afraid to break down next to him.

Frankie comes, dripping onto your walls, his orgasm and whimpers shuddering against your body.

He wraps one of his big, strong arms around your hips and holds you up against him.

And you're safe, really safe, being vulnerable in front of a mirror, watching yourself come apart for him, feeling every inch of your body catching fire while Frankie is the match and the water at the same time. 

He holds you tight until you both recover normal breathing, still nestled inside you. 

He pulls out and embraces you, leaving small kisses on the soft skin near your ear, his large hands caressing your back. 

“I love you so much” he whispers once you make eye contact again.

“I love you too, Morales” you smile, tracing his cheek with your fingertips.

You both get dressed and leave the bathroom. 

You walk down the hallway leading to the living area as you wonder how much his mother heard. You cannot even quantify how long you were locked in the bathroom but it was worth every second. 

You find her in the living room, watching TV with the volume on full blast.

Frankie approaches his mother, without saying anything, rests his hand on hers while she has her eyes fixed on the telenovela you watched with your granny. 

“Do you think Javier will finally be able to confess his feelings to Lola?” you ask quietly. 

She turns, just for a moment, and finally gives you a genuine smile.

For the first time you feel that maybe, after all, despite the way you and her son just desecrated her bathroom, all is not lost. 

general tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @milla-frenchy , @almostempty , @harriedandharassed , @thundermartini If you want to be added or removed just let me know, thank you so much for reading!

Archive tag: @pedrostories ♥️

[yowumi]

Roommate Giyu Tomioka x Reader (Smut)

warnings. masterbation, reader has an OF, they are both lowkey pervs but it’s okay, mostly just build up, MIGHT write a part 2, if this does good…

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A/N. kinda came up with this like right now and i’m writing from my ass so excuse it if it turns out absolutely buns. but let’s just trust the process for now, enjoy luv <3

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Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who started off hating the idea of a roommate, having to deal with other people in general felt hard enough, so having to live with another person wasn’t exactly on his wish list.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who worked long hours which benifits him in this case because by the time he got home, you were already asleep.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who tried his best to limit interactions between the both of you; not wanting to end up saying something rude or make things awkward by forcing a conversation. therefore, resulting in most of your interactions being by sticky notes left in the house or texts that were usually to let him know that you needed something for the house.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who didn’t have much experience with interacting with other people let alone woman. he wasn’t a virgin, of course he managed to get his dick wet every now and then after rough missions where he would get himself drunk enough to not think about it too much.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who didn’t have a high sex drive and could go months without even thinking about it, this habit wasn’t purposely, he just never really got around to it.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who learns from tengen what an onlyfans in after making a joking remark on how if he had lost his job, he would totally make a living off of doing that.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who finds no interest in finding out any more information about the website due to not feeling it’s right to look at peoples bodies like that.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who happens to have more days off recently and staying in the house more often, having to see and face you more often.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who starts to make small talk with you now that he has more time off and gets to know you better although realizing that he never got the chance to ask what you do for a living.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who brings this up eventually after a small conversation.

“i’ve uh been meaning to ask you, what is it that you do for a living? you seem to always be home” he says while facing the other way watching as the coffee filled his cup slowly.

“oh! well i uh actually do an online business…it helps me get by, ya know!” you say trying not to indulge in the conversation any further.

you could only imagine how mortified he would react to knowing about your only fans.

“ah i see” he says now facing towards you not realizing you had moved closer causing him to bump into you, dropping coffee all over your shirt.

“oh i’m sorry! i didnt mean to startle you!” you say as you look down at the mess on the ground, unfazed by the mess on your white shirt.

“that’s my fault, i should have been paying attention to my surroundings” he looks up to you after picking up the broken pieces of the coffee mug from the ground, now realizing how the spill on your shirt has caused your shirt to become nearly see through, as he takes a glimpse at your perky nipples peaking through, quickly turning his gaze away.

distracted by what he saw he managed to end up cutting his finger from the glass in his hand.

“oh are you okay! let me take a look at it!” you say softly grabbing his hand as you examine the cut before you do the unthinkable.

you put his finger in your mouth and licked the blood off.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who had never been the type to get a reaction out of, especially not a lewd one. which makes him confused why his pants suddenly feel tight when he feels your lips on his fingers.

you quickly realize what you are doing and quickly take your mouth away realizing it’s weird to do that to your roommate you barely know.

“oh my god- i’m so sorry! i don’t know what got into me, ill get you a band-aid! sorry again!” you say as you walk away to retrieve a band aid, embarrassed of your actions.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who goes to his room that night and takes a cold shower trying to wash away the thoughts of your lips out of his mind.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who now starts to notice how small your clothes are, now paying attention to the curve of your ass that can be revealed when you bend down in front of him or how your tits look like they’re about to spill out in those small tank tops you wear, noticing when you don’t wear a bra with the white ones, he can see your juicy nipple peaking out.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who finally returns to busy days at work becoming more tired and frustrated in not being able to see you. wondering why he even cared for doing so in the first place.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who comes home tired and late to the house being silent figuring you were definitely asleep by now.

it was a long day, he felt like he hasn’t relaxed in so long. he takes it upon himself to lay on his bed hoping to get much needed sleep. unfortunately for him, that didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon.

he tossed and turned until finally deciding to scroll on his phone before coming back to the conversation with tengen about only fans.

what better did he have to do right now?

after a few minutes after making an account he scrolls and sees plenty of woman revealing themselves in lingerie and nude, although none of them seemed to really catch his attention.

that was until one popped up in his suggested.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who’s heart stops when he sees your sweet innocent face on his screen, dressed in a short little white lingerie set that made his head spin.

without thinking he immediately subscribed, now interested in seeing more of you.

he felt his pants getting tight as he scrolled down the lewd pictures of his sweet roommate in not so sweet positions, feeling a throbbing ache in his pants.

his heart stops when he sees a message appear on his screen welcoming him and thanking him for subscribing.

kingofurwaters: how much for me to get you to myself, sweetheart?

it was out of character for him to act so lewd but he didn’t want to draw suspicion by acting how he would normally act.

you: of course handsome :p i can negotiate prices so just tell me how much your willing, can’t wait <3

he almost feels jealous at the fact that you text other men this way and treat your fans like this, but he tries to put it in the back of his head and pretend it’s only for him.

he tries to think of a good price to layout, he was new to this so he didn’t know what to expect.

kingofurwaters: 250 for 20 minutes with you? or should i aim higher for you, gorgeous?

she takes a while to type which leads giyu to believe maybe he aimed too low, he did hear that women made really good money on this app.

you: that sounds good !! could i make a request though if that’s okay with you of course baby :)

the nickname makes him feel warm but also noticeably sends blood from his brain to his cock that was starting to hurt from how hard it was.

it’s been so long since he’s been this aroused, come to think of it, he can’t even remember a time he’s been anywhere near this aroused. he almost feels as if he could cum just from seeing and talking to you from a screen.

kingofurwaters: spit it out pretty

you: can we make it 40 minutes instead? you offered a lot of money so if you can keep up with me then i would hope to give you the best expedience.

his face lightens.

kingofurwaters: of course, anything for you, is now okay?

and with that and talking him through how to do the call through zoom, he finally sees her.

shes wearing a soft pink lingerie set matched with pink and white panties with a bow in the front. he felt that as of now, it had to have been impossible to be harder than he already was.

throughout the whole session, he watched her, the way she moves, and all without her taking the set she had on, off. he didn’t show himself due to not wanting her to recognize his surroundings.

He palmed himself and came three times that night.

for the first time in giyu tomioka’s life…

he was grateful for tengen’s stupidity.

the next morning he rushed out the door trying to avoid any contact with you and heading straight out the door for work. He was never one to mind going to work but he was eager to go home. He was eager to text and look at you through his phone.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who comes home late once again expecting a quiet house although he’s surprised when he finds you cooking.

“oh your home, how was work tomioka?” you asked, giving him those sweet doll eyes that made his heart race.

“was fine, why are you up?” he asks

“couldn’t sleep and then i got hungry, would you like some?”

he looks down to see the fried rice that looked tempting but he pushes the yummy smell out of his thoughts.

“no thank you, enjoy though” he says before waving you off and brushing himself past you, giving you a small rub on your head in affection as he excuses himself to his room.

he looks on his phone to go straight to your page although he seems surprised as your title of your latest video uploaded an hour ago.

finding your cute roommate touching herself on your bed

his heart stopped noticing his bedroom in the thumbnail. she couldn’t possibly know, right?

fuck.

has she done this before?

he scrolls down on her videos and finding that some of her past videos were also in his room at some point. he also started to realize many videos were captioned with “roommate”. perhaps she had a little kink?

not that he minded. his hard dick straining against his sweatpants sure as hell didn’t mind one bit.

he clicked the video listening to your sweet pants and moans were blasted through his earphones.

he palmed his dick through his sweatpants trying his best not to mutter your name like he did when you were asleep.

he keeps at this motion, teasing his dick through his pants feeling overwhelmed with the image of you fucking yourself on his bed.

he is so close when he hears it.

he hears it, slightly audible.

“g-giyu…”

he almost felt as if he was hearing things, rewinding it over and over again to make sure he wasn’t just hearing things.

but no, he heard right.

precum began leaking through his swollen tip as he pulls his hard cock out of his pants desperately stroking down his long shaft. that was all he needed to hear.

“f-fuck” he groans out hoping you didn’t hear him as cum seeps through his fingers.

kingofurwaters: need you now. is it okay if we meet up? i’ll pay however much money, just need you now baby

he sends her 3k up front, how could she deny?

she agreed and sent him her address, or perhaps their address.

you: my roommate works hard though so we need to be quiet, don’t want to wake him up :(

always so considerate for him.

he couldn’t take it anymore, with shirt off and now only in his sweatpants he made his way to your bedroom before stopping at the door.

what was he thinking? he couldn’t just go in there and fuck the life out of her. he also couldn’t admit that he was watching her but at the same time, it wasn’t as if she was anymore innocent.

giyu takes too long thinking before he finds you opening the door startled and cheeks flushed as your eyes roamed his toned body.

you knew giyu was in shape but lord was he fine.

“oh uh giyu what are you doing here..?” she said nervously, trying her best not to make eye contact with the noticeable bulge poking through his sweatpants.

“i uh uh” shit.

he tries to think of a good explanation, what the hell could save him from this right now.

“oh hold on just one moment giyu, i just need to text someone real quick!” you say almost worried which sent him clueless, who the hell-

ding.

fuck.

that was his phone. you send him a look and look over at his phone to see your message notification.

your eyes go wide.

but not as wide as his.

notification: you: is it okay if we reschedule baby?

he looks up at you and your looking down and you look ashamed before tears roll down your face.

“i’m so sorry, i knew i shouldn’t have posted those videos or even have been doing those things in your room, i’m so sorry giyu, i understand if you want to kick me out or confront me…” you say in sobs.

he laughs.

why was he laughing? did he find this amusing? or maybe he was happy that he caught you.

“i’m sorry-“ you were cut off by him leaving a kiss on your lips. a kiss? did he just give you a peck?

“that isn’t why i’m here, sweetheart.” he says as he watches your expressions change in a confused manner, he leans in to kiss your forehead and comforting you, whiping away the tears.

you realize and you look up at him as if he was an angel sent down to earth.

Roommate Giyu Tomioka! who made love to you until morning, no longer feeling shy around his sweet neighbor.

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A/N. i have no knowledge on OF or how much they make so excuse me if this isn’t very accurate but most people i see online who have an OF are always balling so i assume they are making bank LMAO, i was originally planning on writing smut at the end but if i’m being honest…i’m not very good at writing actual smut but i enjoy writing the build ups because TENSION >>> anyways i hope you guys enjoyed

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[slowburningechoes]

Betrayal Overview: Meeting RSL

After the show ended, I was able to slip out pretty quickly but waited for @occultbooks and @ridethecyanide before bombarding the information desk. We were the first people Robert saw when he came out of the stage door (super fast by the way - maybe 5 minutes if not less than that). He greeted us with such a warm “hello” after sitting his backpack and coffee down and making sure everything he needed was there.

He spoke to @ridethecyanide first and it was so heartwarming to see. She has been so dedicated to supporting him for longer than I’ve even been alive, so it was adorable to see his reactions to her stories. At first, he didn’t see her mom nearby and asked me if I could take a photo for them! I said I could, but mom was right there and ready to go anyways! So they took their adorable photo together!!!

I was next and tried my best not to bombard the poor man, but I still gave an overly enthusiastic “HI!” as I moved towards him. Robert said hello back and I started with the typical greeting of how wonderful he did in the show. Then I went in to explaining that I had a few things for him, a letter from @deadpoetwilson who couldn’t make it, one from me, and a collection of watercolors I had made for him. He looked stunned and pointed to them, “YOU did these?” I nodded and explained that they were all different theaters he had worked at. Robert picked them up and looked at the one of The Old Globe front and back, before responding with a high-pitched, “Whaaaaat?!”

Funnily enough, he said the director from his last play at The Old Globe (which he initially called the Old Goodman lol), Richard II, was here with her 7-year-old son. I said, “Oh, that was a choice!” Robert agreed almost laughing, “Oh - I know! You think he’s…? Nah, he’s a really tough kid.” Then he went on to say, “Anyways, I’ll have to show her this!”

I told them that the paintings were for him to keep and he went through each of them, naming the theatre, reading the back, and commenting on what plays happened when and where. I told him to blame anything inaccurate on the internet, I got all the info from the Playbill website!

He was so appreciative, saying, “This is so incredibly nice of you.” I accepted his thanks and said “you’re welcome” then went on to explain the floral piece I made. The iris was his birth flower (which he was surprised to learn) and that the others represented his wife and girls. He said that he would give that one to his youngest, Irene, which was beyond adorable.

Then Robert asked me, “What is your incredible name?” I told him and he spelled it right on his first guess, which impressed me! We chatted for a bit about where I was from. He went on to say “thank you” again and told me I was “very, very, talented”. He continued to say, “This is so incredibly moving… how?… I-I-I don’t know what to say!” I explained to him that I wanted to give him some art since he has given us so much amazing work himself. Robert shared that it was “very nice of me to say that” and that it wasn’t something that he always feels as the person doing the work, most times. He doesn’t feel famous. He says he goes to do these jobs, then goes back home to NJ to do things like cycling, and he doesn’t know what he does or how people like it, so this “is awesome”. I went on to share that I think the does an amazing job and many people do.

Then, he was so excited to find his new cards he bought! They are old school portraits but with animals. They were so adorable! He said he got them since he hated how dark the programs were to sign on top of. Robert spoke to another small group of people who were personal friends of Ian’s while I selected my card. He raved about how wonderful Ian was (saying he’s worked with many talented actors, but no one as great as Ian) and how appreciative he was that they made time to tell him how much they liked his performance as well.

When he came back to me, he smiled so big when he saw I’d picked out the golden retriever in a purple sweater. “Awww! You picked the dog!” He took a second to think before writing something inside. He explained the story behind the quote he steals from LMM. He said that they waited in line with all the other patrons (mostly 14-year-old girls, he pointed out) and that he was going to be so upset if LMM didn’t meet his daughter, since she had picked out her outfit for him and everything.😅 Thankfully, of course, he did. Robert said that he felt it was “only fitting, in this case” to write down the quote for ME as well. It was very sweet.

Then, he handed me the card and went in for a FULL hug! It was so unexpected that when he moved at first, I thought, “Is this really happening?! WHAT?!” And it was. It was a very sincere and warm hug, he said “thank you” again and reiterated how much it meant to him. He happily agreed to take a photo with me and took a moment to shift to chat with someone else who slipped between myself and @occultbooks.

@ridethecyanide and I fangirled together for a moment (with our poor mothers being so supportive of us) and took a few pictures together with our RSL “spoils” as she called them. She left and I hung back to make sure @occultbooks had someone documenting their meeting with Robert, too!

It was such a sweet (and hilarious) interaction. If you haven’t seen this post, you HAVE to check it out (and their profile in general)! I can’t believe I got to be there to see that moment and other parts of their sweet exchange, it was so touching. I was beyond happy for @occultbooks! Honestly teared up watching them hug ngl… it was precious and emotional.

Also, during their interaction, I got to chat with Erica Schmidt, the director of The Old Globe’s Richard II that RSL had mentioned to me earlier, and her son. She stood beside me and saw my DPS book and said, “Oh throwback! Dead Poet’s!” I quickly said, “Yes! I love it!” before realizing who she was when I saw the young boy with her. I then said, “You must be Erica! Robert just talked about you, I did a painting of the Globe!” She responded with an interested, “Oh?!”. Robert even brought her son into the interaction with @occultbooks, having him pick out his card based on which one matched his appearance most - I think he made a great choice! I didn’t get to see if Robert showed Erica the painting, but I hope he did and that she liked it, too!

Overall, it was a night beyond anything I ever dreamed of. RSL was so respectful, compassionate, patient, and humble. I didn’t think I could admire him more, but I absolutely do! He is so kind. I could not have asked for a better interaction for myself and my two lovely friends!!!!!

So thankful to my mother, Dana, Dylan, & @deadpoetwilson for being so wonderfully supportive and affirming I didn’t imagine this whole thing.

Find my review of the play here!

Videos from our interaction:

Robert’s first reactions to the paintings I made.

Joking about a past director bringing her young son to the show.

Expressing his gratitude and speaking on what it feels like to be famous.

[lycheedr3ams]

Taming You

fem!reader x toxic!konig

MDNI | DDDNE

Warnings: konig is misogynist, controlling, possessive, slight yandere, pervert konig, toxic masculinity, marking, dub-con, p in v sex, brief mention of ass-slapping, dark content ahead

DO NOT DO THIS IRL EVER. THIS IS ONLY FOR FANTASY

you had first spoken with konig when he needed your help to fix one of his work tablets. you had seen him around on base before, his eyes always on you as you went past, but neither of you approached the other. it took you a few days to fix his device, and during those days you learned his type - it was you. his recent searches on porn websites that he didn't bother to erase described you a little too closely. and the situations that he looked up with your bodily descriptions, well, they made you feel a little sick.

you handed his tablet back to him with a forced smile. but he was so polite as he thanked you that you began to wonder if you had misread his searches.

"danke, meine Schatz," he said so gently as he took the tablet from your hands slowly as not to startle you. the sweet tone in his voice made you let down your guard for a moment. it reflected so obviously in your eyes, and the way your smile became a little less forced and showed more teeth.

"if you ever have a problem with anyone here, you let me know, ja?" he said gently again, as if he were telling you a bedtime story. you blinked and your smile faltered slightly as you processed his words. this time, your smile attempted to tame the beast. to fawn.

"i haven't had any problems here thankfully, i think everything will be okay," you said with a shaky voice.

konig stared at you for a moment, silent and dark, before his voice adopted that soothing tone that no one else had ever heard from him. "still. you come to me. for anything. ja?"

you just nodded as you smiled. there was no way you would get him off your back by fighting him. not that you could, even if you wanted to, verbally or physically.

...

somewhere along the line, konig had become your boyfriend. you weren't really sure how it happened. he asked you out to dinner a few times, and each time, you said yes. you were too scared to say no. konig was always gentle with you though. he always held the door open for you, tipped the waitress well, didn't get handsy with you too soon.

but you would argue with him sometimes. or rather, you would be put in your place.

"you have quite a mouth, you know?" he said lowly as he looked down at you. you challenged his stare with one of your own, but it began to crack as he began to stand up to his full height. "your past man friends let you talk to them like this?"

you nodded, too scared to speak.

konig shook his head from side to side. "not with me, Schatz." his eyes seemed to go even darker from underneath his hood. "you don't talk to me like that, ever," he growled. he bent his back slightly so that he was now completely leaning over you. "i'll teach you how a woman should talk to her man. i will make you behave."

your breathing was deeper as he emphasized that last word. his demeanor, how he was talking to you, infuriated you. everything in your logical mind told you to get a restraining order from him, to switch jobs, block him, to never see him again. your mind told you he was dangerous. controlling.

but the throbbing in your core and your slick-drenched panties told you something else. you stared up at him through your lashes defiantly, but said nothing.

konig seemed slightly satisfied with that. "see? you can be a good girl. you're not used to being with a man. you've been with boys. i will change that."

...

konig tamed you with his cock. you hated to admit that. you denied it every chance you could.

"all it takes is a hard cock to make you behave," he grunted into your ear as he fucked you with your ass in the air and your face pressed into the mattress. you moaned without abandon, relishing the way he perfectly filled you up with each thrust.

you were always so much more obedient after he fucked you. he wouldn't miss the near hearts in your eyes after each session. how you'd look at him so innocently and sweetly as he stroked your hair.

"you're getting better," he whispered into your hair. "you barely talk back anymore. that's how a woman should be."

you knew the things you "talked back" to konig about would all be evidence for a restraining order from him. how he threatened to keep you locked in his room when he saw a text from a guy on your phone (it was your cousin), how he nearly killed the guy who accidentally bumped into you in the hallway one night, how he'd give you so many dark hickeys that you couldn't possibly hide them for work, how he'd silently dare you to talk back to him when he said something you didn't agree with. but all you did was stare angrily at him, and feel your core throb as he tamed you.

but sex with him wasn't always loving. most of the time, it wasn't. he'd hold you down despite your protests of it being too much, and just slam his cock into you over and over and over again. he'd toss you onto any surface he could before he rushed up behind you and shoved it in. he didn't care who heard, or who saw. everyone needed to know that you were his.

but that was evident enough even without hearing you scream his name almost every night. it was the way he would be right behind you wherever you were when he wasn't on duty. how you could barely use the women's restroom without him growing sour. how he'd stare daggers into any man who even dared to glance at you, or how he'd slap your ass in front of a room full of people just so show off his cute little trophy. the way you yelped each time he did it was just so cute.

he did train you how to be the woman he wanted. an obedient, pliable woman who never protested anything he said, and took his cock gratefully every time he gave it to you.

[amethxxt]

so... what do we think of the new D5 characters?

Look at me ranting again :)

I wanna start off by saying that this is no hate towards the actors. My problem is with the writers.

Am I excited for Red to have a younger sister? YES. My personal headcanon is that Red has 3 younger siblings (y'know, in a universe where the Queen of Hearts isn't an absolute tyrant), and now I can't wait to see what dynamic the two of them are going to have.

My problem with Pink, is that her name is Pink. WHY? WHAT WAS THE REASON?? It took me forever to get used to "Red" and now that's what they go for when Rosa/Rose was RIGHT THERE????

I seriously don't understand why Disney's so lazy when naming Descendants characters. Sometimes, we get absolute bangers like Calista Jane and others we get shit like Pink/Li'l Shang/Herkie/Hadie and I'm like… couldn't you have at least tried? Couldn't you go to a baby name website like every author in the world has done at least once and look for something better?

How do you expect us to care about the story of those characters when you couldn't be bothered to give them a decent name?

And speaking of Hook, we have a Hazel now :)

This one surprised me because I don't think I had ever expected them to come up with another child of Captain Hook. To me, Harriet, Harry and CJ are perfect and enough.

My problem isn't even that I think it's out of character for Hook to have four children. Actually, he seems like the type that adores the sex part but doesn't give a shit about his kids and is an abusive parent. My problem is that WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH HAZEL NOW????

I have such a perfect idea of how Harriet, Harry and CJ's dynamic is and now I have to worry about introducing a brand new sister. My second problem is that I love the idea of CJ being the baby of the family for more than one reasons.

Of course, I could just ignore her, but I'm actually curious about Hazel's character and love writing about the Hook family, so I've been trying to come up with my own headcanons for my version of Descendants in case Hazel lives and in case she doesn't and we're left with the original 3.

Max is... whatever. I hate that they're gonna have him be Red's love interest because she seemed so close to Maddox that it's weird to think she'd ever see him as anything other than a friend/brother figure. Also, I'm sure he only exists because they can't have Ace in the movies because it would contradict the book or something.

I just want glassheart to be canon, is that too much to ask????

Now (just let out the biggest sigh of my life), Luis Madrigal. He might actually be my new nemesis.

Again, no hate to the actor, but seriously?! They had to throw Encanto into the mix?? I would have no problems if their new character was like, Moana's son, for example, because I can see Moana existing in the Descendants universe.

Encanto, though? I love the movie, but no. Absolutely not.

It almost feels like those skits people post to make fun of Descendants with children of characters like Lightning McQueen and Buzz Lightyear.

Luis is not ever going to be a part of my fics but at the very least I hope Disney isn't so lazy as to make him have super strenght when that's not how gifts work in Encanto. It's not hereditary.

Honestly, I can't believe someone came up with his character and it got approved.

Everything points out to the new "core four" being Red, Chloe, Pink and Hazel, but since Rise of Red didn't do such a good job at developing Red and Chloe's friendship, I'm worried about how they're going to do that and introduce two new main characters and develop Red and Pink's dynamic because I'm sure Red isn't going to start off as the perfect older sister.

I think it'd be interesting if she felt resentment and jealousy towards Pink, because she didn't have a sister before the timeline change, but now not only does she have one, but Pink got to grow up with the good version of the Queen of Hearts and all the love Red never got.

Really nice room for angst, especially since Red and Chloe are the only ones who remember how things used to be and can't just go around talking about it.

Well, I don't know what else to say right now because I just needed to vent a little. At the end of the day, we can only hope that D5 turns out to be a good movie.

[xzyolotl]

Can you loredump about some of your OCs? [Maybe Roeland + Markos?]

Okay, I can write a bit about my characters. I am bad at writing things down so this is a good excuse to do so.

Markos and Roeland are characters from my Plasticity project. The worldbuilding of Plasticity isn’t very developed, as I don’t really have any fancy plans for it beyond character designs and silly pictures. But there are some details I can share:

The world of Plasticity is a post-apocalyptic Earth where creatures made of microplastics have taken the place of humans.

The project originally started with lowpoly [ crystalline alien characters, ] but I wanted to create a population of creatures for them to mess with for silly alien shenanigans, and with the nature of 3D imagery, I wanted them to look quite a bit different as well.

The inhabitants of Plasticity think cars are a kind of ancient creature, like dinosaurs. They think what we call fossils are just “weird rocks.”

I originally referred to the plastic inhabitants of Plasticity as “Plastic Monsters”, though in their world they refer to themselves as Polymers, which is the name of a small material with synthetic varieties that make up plastics. I am not so smart with words and just wanted a simple name for them.

The visuals of Plasticity are inspired by 1980s CGI and P.F. Magic’s Petz series of games, specifically Oddballz.

The original design for [ Abby ] appeared in my mind while listening to the Donkey Kong 64 soundtrack.

Now, some notes for the characters you asked about (Markos & Roeland):

MARKOS – Polymer (Hamster-type) – Age 28 – He / Him pronouns

Likes to watch wrestling on the TV.

Thinks beetles are neat. His apartment is overrun with a kind of highly intelligent beetles, though he seems to be completely unaware of how smart they are, they are just little silly guys to him.

Met Abby at age 4 (Abby was 6). Abby ate a bug in front of Markos, after that he felt he needed to teach Abby how to be kind to bugs. They both grew up alongside each other since then. Markos sees Abby like a sibling, as part of his family.

Works a boring office job. He isn’t quite sure what the business he works for even does but isn’t interested in asking questions.

Has some internal baggage that has resulted in a reliance on alcohol. Though he wasn’t aware of how much alcohol he consumes until shortly after he started dating Roeland, who expressed concern about the excessive amount alcohol both of them were drinking.

ROELAND – Polymer (Hamster & Square Mixed-type) – Age 31 – He / Him & They / Them pronouns

Lost their right arm due to weak magnetism in the joints caused by genetic condition. They have a specialized diet and medications to help prevent this from happening to their other limbs.

Is generally quiet, but if a friend brings up the right topic he will not shut up.

Has a fear of [ house goblins. ]

Works at a games store at a mall. Hates it but has many interesting stories to share with friends.

Is saving up money for a prosthetic arm to replace the missing one.

Enjoys fiber crafts, they have an excessive yarn collection. They like to make little sweaters and hats for Markos’ beetle friends.

That is all I have the time to write down for now, I do have little webpages for my projects over [ at my website, ] though the pages for them aren’t very filled out at the moment. I have been focusing on my [ Teratoma project. ]

[werepuppy-steve]

i hate that i have to make this bc there are many other more important donation posts going around rn, but i'm at ny whits and and idk what else to do. 've been trying to sell my house since june. people have been interested and have come to look at it but there've been 0 offers. the realtor i was with pulled it from their website in july.

i really need to either sell this house by winter or be moved out by then. bills are getting higher and i can't afford to keep calling off work when it snows and i can't get off my road. one more call-off and i'm pretty sure it's termination for me. i know i complain about my job a lot but it's the only thing paying my bills atm.

my plan is to buy a camper and move onto my parents' property with it, but with my credit score being what it is, the dealership needs at least a 10% down payment. i thought i could save up enough money on my own but with the way things are currently i'm lucky if i'm able to keep even $100 of every paycheck. i've been nothing but a giant ball of stress since this whole thing started.

it would be so much easier on me mentally and emotionally to try and sell this house once i'm no longer living in it.

i know this sounds like a sob story and i know there are currently people who need money more than me but i truly don't know what else to do other than sit in a corner and cry.

the downpayment of a $25,000 camper is $2,500. i have paypal, ko-fi, venmo and ca$happ.

disclaimer: ko-fi donations are received through paypal, which is associated with my deadname, as is ca$happ. nobody other than myself can access these funds.

paypal/ko-fi: axhiiles

ca$happ: $cxmiccxn

venmo: axhiiles

$50/$2,500 received

[stilljuststardust]

Hey, am I ruining or delaying anything if i have to think the opposite of my desire? like for example if i were manifesting having always been rich, but in the 3d i'm not rich so i'm looking for jobs and i have to think about that a lot. another example would be someone manifesting that they already have a bunch of degrees, but in the 3d they have to think about what university to go to and plan all of that. or another example is someone manifesting having always had an amazing bond(never arguing) with their family, but in the 3d they had a massive argument so they have to think about what they can do to solve it in that moment.

sorry for all the examples i just wanted to be as clear as possible.

Hello love, you can manifest anything

You can always return to the state of having after reacting, it's just important to avoid rumination on how much you don't have it is all. You're not ruining anything, just return to the state and remain consistent outside of necessary actions.

Do what you need to do in the physical world but don't affirm against what you want. Yes, if it hasn't materialized you will still have to problem solve but in my opinion that shouldn't fully take you out of the new story unless that process involves a lot of negative affirming.

You can totally just return to affirming whenever you're not doing what's necessary.

I think that there is a difference between problem solving and rumination and you can find a solution for yourself in the physical world without "having" to affirm against it.

Like you can go to work without repeating "I'm so poor" in your head.

You can still consciously make choices going forward that would benefit you without saying to yourself "oh my God I'm so poor". I think it's possible to be scrolling university websites and affirming "I'm so glad I've already graduated", because it doesn't have to align with what you're doing. Your subconscious has no idea what's going on, it just believes whatever you say.

Like if you have to do what you have to do to make rent for the month that's totally fine, but telling yourself you're poor and nothing works out for you isn't actually required to do that.

You can do anything in the physical world and still be affirming in your head you can literally just be repeating a sentence. It doesn't have to align with what you're doing you don't have to twist whatever you see into something it's not. It's okay if you're inner world doesn't line up with the outer one.

I think that's maybe what you're struggling with is "how do I think about this thing that I'm doing in a way that's aligned with what I want", when the truth is you don't have to twist it into something else you can just affirm. Your affirmations are allowed to be separate with whatever you're doing in the 3D.

You don't have to force what you see in the 3D into something that makes sense for your desire because the 3D doesn't matter. It's a common mistake, where people will justify something they don't like that they're seeing instead of just letting what they're thinking in their head not align with the events in the physical world.

A lot of these things you can do without going through the mental process of

I'm making a resume -> therefore I'm poor

You can be physically doing something that conflicts with your desire and still thinking as if you have it because the physical world has no power.

For the family example in my experience as someone who's manifested less fighting with my family, it's ok to react in the moment but once it's over try to avoid thinking about "they always do this, this always happens, I hate them" etc. Personally I just repeated that they were nice to me even though I was totally mad at them at the time.

[missmarveledsblog]

A KIND OF SEX EDUCATION ( PART THREE) ( PLATONIC Cas , winchesters x reader)

SUMMARY : Cas finds onlyfans , all it not what it seems though

warning : its just pure crack and fun

Turns out even as traumatising as the last time of cas curiosities didn’t actually have too bad of out come and as much as she had hated to admit dean was right about them dating . although never in the bunker was it peaceful for too long . turns out bobby was her dad and she learned new thing about her parents no child should ever learn …ever. 

Something else was different too every night at 8 pm cas would disappear off into his room even when on hunt he would head off some where always at 8pm , of course they were curious  but after last few ordeal with the angel well the curiosity was just not enough to investigate . well until ..

“ i am in love and i think it time i brought her here” he said  completely out of the blue . 

“ you have a girlfriend good job buddy … don’t show her your internet history though” dean snorted only for y/n to slap him in back of the head. 

“ she’s real right?” sam asked needing clarifications after poor guy fell for an A.i bot . 

“ she’s very real we talk every night at 8pm . 

“ that’s great cas maybe we can go for a double date sometime “ y/n beamed more for the fact it probably the most normal interaction she had with the angel in what felt forever . 

“ i shall ask her although she said friends cost extra” he said heading off to his room as they all shared a look. 

“ who the hell is spending 500 dollars a night on …” bobby called. 

“ you go in i’m not going in , i’m always the one here for this shit” she argued as three stood out his door. 

“ oh for fuck sake  i’m moving out” she whined. 

......

“ you’re nicer though he listens to you and better than him he’ll break his heart” sam reasoned . 

“ why aren’t you in the equations” she scoffed. 

“ i don’t want to deal with it to be honest” sam huffed. 

“ how about we all go talk to him i mean plus lets see what she like she could be nice gal for all we know” dean grinned. 

“ do you like having a girlfriend” she glared . 

“ point taken you should take this one” he smiled pushing her into the room. 

��� another tip from my angel any requests” the voice called as y/n was ready to burst into tears thinking maybe wifi in the bunker was over rated.

“ hey cas i need to erm talk to you it’s urgent” . 

“ why are you're eyes covered if its urgent” she could already picture his tilted head and confused face but she was afraid just incase his little saint was out awaiting . “ i got to go my love i will come back tomorrow” he called as silence filled the room god this was going to like shooting bambi’s mother. 

“ he’s dressed sweetheart” was all dean voice said echoing down the  hall. 

“ oh thank fuck , hey buddy can we talk” she asked softly and wishing she was well anywhere else. 

“ of course it is urgent” he nodded. 

“ jesus how do i go about this?” she sighed rubbing her temples. 

“ are you pregnant? I noticed the little weight but i didn’t want to mention it” he looked down at her stomach. 

“ getting less hard , no i’m not pregnant may need to go on a diet though… nevermind cas whats your loves name?” she shook her head staying on point albeit less confident then before .

“Angel lady six nine” he beamed proudly . 

“ oh you poor sap it’s sixty nine  not the the point cas have you talk with her like in person or …” . 

“ on only fans gabriel sent me the link said it was a website for meeting exciting women and now i met my love and she makes me so happy … and it make my hands want to do the thing i see ” he smiled . 

“ well i’m glad, good chatting buddy” she backed out the room definitely not the one to be dealing with this . 

So now here sam was while dean was telling y/n she wasn’t fat.  He could do it rip the bandaid off but provide some sort of comfort maybe bring him somewhere to meet real woman that wouldn’t send them to the poor house. 

“ hey cas can we talk” he smiled awkwardly seeing the angel eyes locked on screen .

“ of course it seems as everyone wants to do that tonight” he place it down as sam caught a glimpse of the page he was on . 

“ your love isn’t well actually love” he cut to the point . 

“ why not she tells me all the time” his head tilted like a confused puppy. 

“ that’s cause you give her five hundred dollars a night i mean she call you king of the world for that sort of money” . 

“ she shows me her things like…” he began to explain. 

“ i don’t need to know that .. but she not really in love with you buddy just the money you give her?” sam asked watching his reaction seeing the cogs turn in the mans head. 

“  i don’t get it” he finally said. 

“ ok… goodnight” sam huffed walking out as dean stormed  . 

“ hello dean” cas smiled. 

“ ok buddy you're dating a prostitute electronically needs to stop or we can’t buy pie so stop wasting the money online great talk buddy” he shut the door as the other two watched him walk off in victory . 

“ nothing wrong with earning money like that woman power ,  just not ours cas” y/n winced at her boyfriends way with words following after. 

They sat worried as cas never showed up for breakfast  , y/n even checked to see his room empty to which sam said to give him space. 

“ jesus your right that was like shooting bambi” sam called heading in the same direction. 

......

“ but what if we made him run away” she pouted. 

“ he’s literally older than all of us and an angel” dean shrugged. 

“ but he’s a baby in a trench coat you say it all time” she pointed out . 

“ the kitchen is through here , would you like a drink” the voice called out. 

“ oh water is fine” a female voice replied as the two appeared making them not only drop their jaws but whatever was in their face as the woman followed behind. 

“ is that…” she whispered. 

“ the hook..OWW” Dean yelled as y/n kicked him . 

“This my love  angel , angel these are my friends who think your a hooker”  cas said as sam choked on his drink.

“We don’t think your a hooker” y/n smiled weakly . 

“ actually we do  onlyfans means one thing … not that i would know i’ve never seen it before” dean corrected himself as his girlfriend glared. 

“ you know people do other things on onlyfans not only sexwork right “ angel crossed her arms. 

“ come on angel sixty nine” dean scoffed. 

“ six point nine my birthday is the 9th of june” she answered.

“ look we don’t slut shame but you make his hands wanna move” sam pointed out . 

“ to teach him to draw” she gasped .

 “ five hundred dollars to paint really cas” bobby walked in. 

“ he doesn’t pay me a dollar” angel pointed out . 

“ where our money going then” y/n brow furrow. 

“ wait that’s real money i though it was pretend money” jack walked in with his tablet showing them the gambling site he was on . 

“Wait so she's not a hooker” dean asked confused. . 

“ sorry angel” the called in unison .

" we're getting rid of the wifi i can't be dealing with this shit" y/n called heading out the room .

@pizzagirlxnsfwx hope you enjoy part three :)

[choccy-milky]

Their kids are so cute omg i'm gonna dir of adorableness

lewis: then die LMFAOO NO BUT FRR THANK UU IM GLAD U THINK SO🥹🥹💖💖💖all the love for them (esp lewis) gave me the idea to draw him deflecting all the attention so ty for giving me the excuse to post it....we luv our aloof distant boi🥰

its funny bc i was JUST talking about this recently, but i dont like pet names at all BAHAH, hence why seb and clora dont call each other anything, not even nicknames.... seb calls her the light/princess/a bird sometimes as playful and teasing jokes, but doesnt actually address her like that. and clora always calls sebastian by his full name as well, bc i was basing her dialogue/my writing off the game dialogue...bc for as close as anne and ominis are to seb, both of THEM call him sebastian in full, so maybe it was a victorian thing that nicknames werent really common? plus clora's so proper that it just feels like its in her personality to always call seb "sebastian"... i feel like if she ever DID call him "seb" he'd do a double take and be like ...HUH? who are you???......are you polyjuiced? LMAO. i do imagine seb calling clora "love" when they get older tho (not in hogwarts) bc i like how simple it is, and imagining him saying stuff like 'careful, love' makes me🫠🫠🫠🫠

aw TYY💖💖 honestly i didnt give the victorian setting TOO much thought, other than making clora more modest/not used to wearing trousers etc. like the actual victorian courting process was that youd ALWAYS be chaperoned by at least 1 other person and you wouldnt be able to kiss or anything, so the fact that our mcs are in a co-ed school with free reign already ruins that, so i wouldnt worry too much about it. a lot of it you can just wave off with the excuse that wizard society is more advanced than muggle society, which is true anyway LOL. i just kept the parts that i thought were fun/made it feel victorian ENOUGH but got rid of the stuff that was too annoying (one big example being the amount of clothing they wear....i said it in the notes for one of my chapters, but i wasnt about to make seb go through like 5 different layers just to touch cloras titty LMFAO) and no i didnt have 1 specific website i used, id just google "blank in victorian times" and look through all the articles and resources i could on that subject, and take little bits of it. SO YEA i wouldnt worry about it too much, just take what you want if you think it could enrich your story, and leave stuff out if its annoying to deal with BHAHA. and GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR WRITING!!💖💖

BAHAHA yeah sebs bark was defs bigger than his bite when it came to actually having kids/getting clora pregnant LOL. he defs loves the pregnancy part, but i feel like seeing her go through the actual labour was super hard on him/made him feel guilty bc he hates to see her in pain, let alone bc of HIM. not to mention that i imagine he would still work even once they have kids, so to leave clora with like 6 kids by herself isnt something he would have wanted to do LOL. once both lewis and celeste are in hogwarts tho i actually imagine seb and clora still doing curse breaking as well (albeit less dangerous jobs/not as far away) BUT YES having a third kid that looks like seb and is sassy like anne would be SO CUTEEE...a happy accident is a good idea too, tho i kinda like the idea of it being cloras idea.....like, she gets baby fever again now that the kids are kinda growing up and sebs like no i dont wanna put u through that again... but obvs seb wouldnt be able to resist if clora was begging seb to put a baby in her LMFAOOO its already as good as done at that point😇😇 AND THANK YOU, and im glad you liked it!!!🥹💖💖💖

@the-kcm-muggleborn AWWW ur right thats so pretty.....ty for showing me!!🥹and im glad it make you think of clora...SHE WOULD APPROVE OF THESE STUDIES👌⭐🌙

[strangebiology]

"How do I do your job as a side hustle?"

[Excerpt from Authors of Nonfiction Books in Progress]

Recently I talked to someone who wanted to get good at social media. When I told her I have 315k followers across platforms, she said, “How do you do that!? Teach me your ways!” She was interested in making money from social media. I was also invited to lead an online course on social media or book writing as a side hustle.

It reminded me of all the times I’ve heard, “How do you find so many bones?” or “How did you get that award?” or “How do you get a book deal?” or "How do you make money from writing?"

I LOVE talking about this stuff. I WILL talk about these topics for hours. And I LOVE the implication in the conversation that I'm good at something.

I also really respect the positivity in general that comes with someone asking if they could do that. It is good to ask how someone does something rather than resigning yourself to "I'm not good at that stuff." (AND the people who ask me are polite and respectful of my time! So no hate at all!)

BUT! I realized that people aren't liking the answers I give.

I used to enthusiastically give detailed tutorial answers to "how do you do that?" I often got interrupted when I did that. “Yeah yeah yeah, I don’t have time for that!” People don’t have 60 seconds to hear a summary of steps of how to do something, but they think they have time to learn to do it well? It can take years.

I realized people expect me to advise some quick tips they can employ over the weekend, and they’ll have the skill/award/grant/contract in a couple of days with no previous relevant experience. Or maybe there’s a website where they can download these skills, like in The Matrix.

Now I try to find one-sentence answers that imply a huge amount of homework for them. How do you get a book contract? “Build a writing career.” How do you get a lot of followers? “content is king, audience is queen.” How did you get that award? “Do something that would win that kind of thing.”

(Also, I don't make much money on social media, so I don't have advice for making it a side hustle.)

I asked other science writers if they often get asked how to make their career (science writing, book writing, social media, etc) into a side hustle, wondering if I'm wrong to say "I don't recommend it as a side hustle." The professionals I talked to agreed that they would say the same thing. Some said they feel it's a bit ignorant and disrespectful to think someone else's career is something anyone could do, and profit significantly from, after a 1-minute conversation and little work.

Even people who have been writing for years are struggling to find work in this field. It's hard. I have an MS in Science Journalism that I will likely never finish paying for--I'm not saying everyone needs that, or even that it's very common in this field. It's not. But geez, if science writing were a skill you could get in a 60-second phone call, I would have done that!

Imagine if I said to you, "I've got some free time on Thursday, I think I'll start doing your job on the side. How hard could it be?"

It can certainly be worth it to learn these things, and there are some things you, personally, might be 90% of the way to achieving! So, maybe a 10-minute conversation can help you start the process of capitalizing on your existing skills! I just encourage you to realize the answer to “how do you achieve X” is almost always “a ton of work and practice.” 

Maybe ask more specific questions after you've already done significant Googling. For example, “What’s the title of the award again so I can look for it?” “What science writing communities do you recommend?” I can answer those.

PS. I'd love to hear if you've had similar or different experiences! *Is* your job something you recommend to anyone as a side income? Or are you constantly battling that assumption?

[heavyhitterheaux]

"I'm not going to jail for this”

FL one sentence concept!

I love your work!

Thank you so much bby! I hope you love this!

AN: This was right before they moved to Atlanta and FL had just gotten her license.

“SHIT! ARE THOSE COPS BEHIND US!?” Jack yelled as he was driving behind you and trying to maneuver in order to get in front of you.

Urban was currently in the passenger seat next to him and was high as a kite who simply looked over at him and shrugged.

“URB!”

“WHAT? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? I'M IN THE PASSENGER SEAT!”

“AND HIGH AS A FUCKING KITE!”

“NO I'M NOT!”

You and Jack were currently dragging racing at 2 in the morning and he had been in the lead up until a few minutes ago when you swerved in front of him.

“Damn it, I know she has to see them behind us.” Jack mumbled, but all he noticed was you speeding up in Victoria's car.

“Urb! Call her! You know she's short and can barely see over the steering wheel and I know for a damn fact she can't see the rear view mirror either.”

“Umm….”

“Umm what!?”

“My phone's dead.”

“Just get mine!”

But Urban didn't even have time to call you before another cop car sped past Jack and went behind you. Noticing this, you quickly slowed down and pulled over while Jack did the same and pulled behind you.

The cops asked all of you to step out of the car and now all of you were standing off to the side. With Jack standing next to you and Victoria standing next to Urban.

"I'm not going to jail for this.” Jack muttered and you rolled your eyes.

“Smush, shut up. We're not going to jail.”

“Baby, Urban is as high as a fucking airplane right now! He doesn't even know what planet he's on!”

“Shh! Just let me talk.”

When both officers came over towards the four of you, you put on your biggest smile to hopefully get the four of you out of trouble.

“Good evening, officers.”

“It's really good morning, but do you have any idea how fast you all were going? The speed limit is 45 and both of you were going close to 100.”

“Oh, hadn't noticed.” You replied while shrugging, but one of the officers took a closer look at you and you recognized him as being one of Dani's ex boyfriends.

“I… Y/N! Jack! You know better! What the?”

“Oh my gosh, hi Jamal! How's the baby? You know the one you got by cheating on my sister?”

“Oh good lord, we're going to jail.” Jack mumbled while Victoria looked on with wide eyes and Urban was simply trying not to fall over and decided to lean against the car.

“I… look… me and your sister….”

“Tell her, not me.”

“Either way, stay on topic. I should arrest the four of you.”

“But you aren't going to because I'll call Sheriff Peterson and tell him about…. You know. You just got this job for that baby and I would hate for you to lose it.”

Now all eyes were on Jamal who had a look of shock and then disbelief on his face. His partner looked over at him dumbfounded, but he just shook his head at him.

“I'm letting you off with a warning. Don't do it again.”

“Can we at least finish our race?”

“Y/N!”

“I have him on speed dial, Jamal.”

“Finish it and go home.” He said before the two of them got into their respective cars and drove off.

“Are we… are we going to unpack what just happened?!” Jack asked as he caught your arm as you were making your way back to Victoria's car.

“Hmm later. Jack, we got fifty yards to go and get ready to lose. Oh, but Jamal is an escort in his spare time. I found the website.”

“Wait…. WHAT!?”