#me reaching out to old friend to meet up with and communicate my feelings with other friend all within a week WHO IS SHW

[ovaryacted]

SECONDHAND SMOKE

─ Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant f! reader || WC: 2.2k

SYNOPSIS: Waiting for Logan back at the X-Mansion, he welcomes you into his arms and enjoys his cigar with you on his lap.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUTTY. Thigh Riding. Dirty Talk. Kissing. Scent Kink. Light Oral (f receiving). Established Relationship. Older! X-Men Logan implied. Age Gap Implied [Logan looks to be in his 40s, Reader is in their 20s]. Reader is a telepath & telekinetic mutant with a human appearance. Telepathic communication. Logan is a tease and a lover boy, he uses multiple terms of endearment. They match each other's freak.

A/N: I've been meaning to upload another Logan fic especially since watching the D&W movie on Friday, and I wanted to share this with y'all. This story is also technically part of a larger idea, but that will be talked about later. I have other things planned for Logan as well for X-Men Logan, old man Logan, and variant Logan. That man is not going to be safe on my watch. Thank you to @ozarkthedog for the proofread and the motivation to keep writing for this man, and shout out to @zloshy for taking part in the aesthetics and the encouragement with the yap sessions. I adore you both. Anywho, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Hope you enjoy! <3

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

You’ve been waiting for him all day while he was out with the rest of the leading group of X-Men, something regarding a history lesson that needed to be handled. You stayed at the mansion on Xavier’s orders, tending to the younger class of gifted mutants until the veterans arrived by nightfall. To keep yourself occupied, you perused the many books Logan kept on his shelf towards the far end of his bedroom, picking up a well-loved novel from Hemingway to delve into. 

Carefully turning the pages, the wording and storytelling entranced you, each paragraph manifesting into visions that played in your head like a live-action film. Half of your senses remained in the book while the other listened for the familiar creaks of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hallway.

You sensed him before you saw him. Halfway into the book, you lift your head at the sound of the door opening, spotting Logan standing by the threshold of the room’s entryway. Closing the door behind him, he steps towards where you sat on his bed, holding your chin upwards to face him. Bending forward, he placed a soft kiss on your lips, followed by a content sigh that made a smile creep up on your face.

“Hey,” you said, meeting Logan’s softened gaze as he moved away from you to the other side of the room, plopping down on the leather armchair in a heap. He exhaled heavily through his nose, throwing his head back along the edge of the chair. “Long day?”

“The fucking longest,” Logan grumbled, his brow bone creasing before he relaxed.

“I thought you liked hanging out with Scott?” you questioned, the end of your voice trailing off into a playful tease as you sat up on the mattress.

“Sweetheart, that man has a pretentious stick up his ass. You couldn’t pay me to spend time with him.” You laughed at his mild irritation, knowing Logan’s faux vexation towards his friend was a facade to cover his true feelings of fondness.

Reaching for a box of cigars to his right, Logan clipped the cap off a fresh one and popped it between his lips, holding it by his teeth. He glanced at you, the corner of his lips curling up in a mischievous grin.

“Come here, you gotta light this for me.”

With a smile, you obliged, quickly rising on your feet and striding to where he sat in the chair, swinging your legs around to situate yourself over his denim-clad lap. Straightening your back, your eyes briefly flashed black as you materialized the metal lighter from its place on the bookshelf before Logan, flicking the spark wheel until the red flame brightened his chin. The foot end of the cigar sizzled as it burnt to ash, the familiar scent of finely aged tobacco filled your nose as he drew in his first breath.

“Sneaky.” He mumbled around the cigar, taking a harsh pull of air before curling his fingers to hold it, huffing the smoke out on the next exhale.

“I call it being efficient.” You grinned to yourself, accepting the reciprocated hum rumbling through Logan’s broad chest. Your fingers skimmed his collarbones that peeked through the white tank under his flannel, admiring the bob of his throat and the steady rise of his body whenever he breathed.

“What were you up to in here? Snooping through my shit?” His sight darted to the burgundy button-down you wore, ending right at the top of your bare thighs. He brought his free hand to caress your leg, running circles over your skin and feeling you shiver slightly under him. “I was looking for this shirt last week, you know?”

“First off, this was gifted to me,” you stated with a roll of your eyes, smacking Logan across the chest and forcing a dry chuckle out of him. “And secondly, I was waiting for you to come back.”

“Hmm, so you’re saying you missed me?”

“Surprisingly, I did.” You sneaked your other hand towards Logan’s neck, curling your fingers around the thick hair at his nape. He almost purred at the touch, smoking his cigar and looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“Besides, it’s nice and quiet here. You also gave me permission to be here for your information.” 

Since dating Logan, it has been a slow start to accomplishing milestones for either of you, taking things one step at a time to avoid scaring the other off. Now that things have been good between you, he gave you free reign to be in his bedroom at the mansion, usually spending the day here for some solace or sleeping in his bed instead of yours on the other side of the estate. On a mental note, he intended to make your presence in his life more permanent.

“Damn, I forgot I gave you permission to take my stuff,” Logan quipped, somehow becoming more cocky than he usually was. You loved him for it either way.

Asshole. Although you didn’t verbally say the word, he heard your voice in his mind, taking the telepathic route. His smirk widened as he took another drag of his cigar, the smoke heavy in the air as it circled the two of you.

“All yours, darlin’.” He offered you a wink, squeezing your thigh with his other hand to keep you in place, seated on his thick thighs.

You spent a few minutes talking to him, giving him a rundown of your relatively calm day and mentioning the book you read earlier. It was oddly domestic, something that most mutants would not be able to partake in, and Logan silently thanked whoever granted him the opportunity to experience it.

A comfortable silence occupied the room once Logan was halfway down his cigar. Enjoying his company, you nuzzled into his neck, taking in his natural scent. A mix of pinewood and leather filled your senses, musky and so clearly him, your belly twitched at the warmth of his body against yours. Absentmindedly, you began to litter kisses over his skin, placing a few more along the base of his throat and moving upwards to the corner of his jaw. He could smell the shift in your behavior; arousal mixing in with the lingering haze heightened his senses, and his attention was directed back to you.

“Need something?” His voice dropped an octave as he asked you, running lines up and down your leg, the sensation making you squirm.

“Need you, smartass.” Holding his face, you kissed him on the cheek and once more on the tip of his nose, reaching his lips along the way. His eyes closed at the touch, wanting nothing more than to feel the caress of your tongue and sink his teeth into your bottom lip. 

“I want you too, but I’m on my smoke break.” You were ready to pout at him before Logan adjusted your positioning, shifting you more off to the side so your pelvis sat on one of his thighs. The thickness of the denim covering the hard muscle of his leg rubbed against your underwear, a moan settling in the back of your throat at the contact.

“Get yourself off while I finish this. Promise, it’ll be worth it, hun.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, knowing what he was asking for, yet your cheeks warmed under his stare. He merely shrugged, raising an eyebrow and patiently waiting for your next move.

Doubtfully, you pivoted your hips forward, dragging yourself across the vast expanse of his thigh before drawing backward. The first few passes felt strange, but you quickly found your rhythm, rocking your hips in even thrusts. The material of his jeans rubbed just right against your panties; the thin fabric that separated your body from his added more friction to your sensitive clit. Your lower spine grew warm with Logan’s free hand idly holding your waist, calmly guiding your movements over him until he was confident you got it handled.

Logan leans back into the chair and plants his feet on the floor, giving you more leverage to work with. His keen eyes take in the way you flutter yours shut, eyebrows furrowing in concentration at getting the perfect angle and drive. He can hear your heart beating in your ribcage and can feel the pumping of your blood flowing through your veins to rush between your legs.

Muffled moans pour out of you, gripping the fabric of Logan’s shirt and tilting forward a bit more, digging your face into the crook of his neck and shoulder. The secondhand smoke from his cigar amplified the incessant throbbing down South, a second pulse that pounded through your body with a need clawing at your gut. The motion of your hips grew more persistent as your slick seeped into your panties, known to Logan when his nostrils flared to catch your scent in the air.

“Feeling good, princess?” You heard his voice filtering through the light mess of your thoughts, focusing on making yourself feel good under his orders. You hummed against his neck, nodding and keeping your even pacing as you leaned into his muscular body.

“Yeah, I know it’s good. Bet your pussy is just crying for me now, probably tastes just as sweet too.” Logan’s vulgar mouth only motivated you to grind your hips harder against his leg, reminiscent of a bitch in heat the more you moved over him.

There was something erotic about getting yourself off while Logan observed and enjoyed his smoke. To him, you were quality entertainment, a sight for sore eyes after a hectic day full of learning things he was trying to retain. Your mind grew clouded, full of the many ways Logan handled you, things like this that kept you on your toes the way he knew how. Flashbacks of this morning flickered before your eyes, reminiscing the feel of his tongue slipping inside you and his bicep tucked under your neck as he fucked you from behind.

Logan could picture it too, traces of your daydreams passing by in his head, instances where he made you feel so good you had nothing left to give. He wonders how wet you are, could taste your cunt on the back of his tongue, missing it since he left you with a weary grin on your face as you slept in his bed. He hopes you stained the worn denim that separated the two of you and prays that you leave your mark on him, no matter how temporary.

“Getting close?” he asked. He didn’t hear you respond, but your voice remained floating in the confines of his skull.

Yes. Fuck yes. So close. Fuck me. Fuck me. Please.

“I will sugar, promise I will.” His hand ran up the curve of your spine and gently curled around your neck, pulling you backward to hold his gaze. Your glossed-over pupils dilated at the sight of him, irises darkening and filling with ink. The embodiment of your powers made him curious at first, with blackened eyes at the indication of specific actions, but he quickly got used to seeing the signs every time he made you fall over the edge.

“C’mon, sweet girl. Make a mess on my jeans, and I swear I’ll treat your pussy the way she deserves, the way she needs. Let me feel it.”

Logan. Logan. Logan.

“Fuuuck…” You whined under your breath, doing three more harsh passes over his thigh before your body abruptly tensed, legs shaking and pressing into his hard body as the wave slammed over you. Mind clear and body lax, you hummed against Logan’s throat, pulse thumping against your lips as you placed a light kiss.

He took one last pull of his cigar before smudging it into the ashtray on the end table to his left, ideally saving whatever was left of it for after he fucks you. Wrapping his thick arms around you, he brings you closer to him, pulling your hips over his to hover over the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Need something?” you taunted, parroting his earlier words with equal tone and sarcasm.

“Yeah. Need to clean up the mess you made.”

Crashing into your lips, he kissed you deeply for the first time that night, curling his tongue around yours in affectionate swirls and releasing an audible groan. Holding you close, he stood up on his feet and picked you up with ease, strolling towards the bed in three strides. Lighthearted giggles tumbled out of you, making Logan’s heart beat in tandem with yours. The sides of his face creased as he mimicked your smile, tugging hastily at your sodden underwear and tossing them to the side. Rough fingers curled around the soft flesh of your thigh, parting your legs to admire his handiwork as he heard your voice in his head again.

Greedy.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” As if to prove your point, he licked a broad stripe up the length of your cunt, your wetness coating his tongue as he placed a complimentary kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves, re-igniting the fire he started.

 “Now be good and let your old man have a taste.”

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[sturnsstar]

Adore You ✶ Matt Sturniolo (NSFW)

a/n: My first smut ever! Be honest and tell me if this sucks lmao

pairing: Extrovert!Yapper!FemReader x Introvert!Matt

warnings: porn with plot / minor discussion / reader can’t take anything seriously and overthinks a lot / miscommunication / Matt just wants reader to shut up / Matt is a communication king / pet names! / SMUT / fingering / brief jerking off / some dirty talk / p in v / no protection (USE IT) / they banter a lot

requested: no

summary: You and Matt have been together for almost 5 months now. Your lifestyle is pretty different from his, but you manage to find compromises throughout the relationship. One night, you convince him to accompany you to a party, where you start to overthink your relationship. Luckily, Matt is here to prove you wrong. 

P.S. english is not my first language.

It was 11 pm as I finished reapplying my gloss for the third time that night. I finally convinced Matt to come to a party with me. It had been a while since I last went to a big social event, since Matt doesn’t really enjoy them. He never stopped me from going, of course, but he generally declined my invitations to join me.

Tonight though he changed his mind: while I was in the middle of preparations he sent me a text, asking me where and when the party was. I was so excited to go with him: I liked showing him off, he was my best friend and the best thing that ever happened to me. I honestly didn’t understand how he could like me, given the fact our personalities were so different: I’m what could be described as a social butterfly, a yapper, always ready for a new adventure or a new party, the more people the better. Matt was somewhat shy but not really: he enjoyed being with his friends but he never liked loud places, which I, on the contrary, loved.

We somehow worked anyway: he’s the lighthouse I need to calm myself, the part of me that knows how to handle me and my moods. And I like to think I help him too, making him understand that sometimes going out and trying new things is not that bad.

He picks me up twenty minutes later and we drive to the house where the party is taking place. The host is one of my old schoolmates: she’s graduated University and wants to celebrate with her old friends. I begged Matt to come with me, mostly because I want him to know my friends better. The fact he’s here with me tonight means the world to me.

“Thank you for joining me” I say, taking his right hand in mine and squeezing it gently. “It means a lot”.

“Sure, sun” he says not looking at me but squeezing my hand back, his attention on the road. I notice his hand is a bit sweaty. He’s nervous.

“It will be alright. They will like you” I reassure him, confident in my words. There’s nothing not to like about Matt: he’s a kind soul, he just needs to be more open to let the rest of the world see it as well. He hums the tune of the song that’s playing on the radio, and I understand he doesn’t want to continue the conversation. I lay back against the seat and enjoy the rest of the ride with him, knowing he needs silence to relax completely. He doesn’t let go of my hand, though.

We arrive at the right address and he parks the car a bit far away from the house. He kills the engine and doesn’t move to open the car door.

“You don’t have to, if you’re not comfortable” I say calmly, smiling softly at him. He turns his gaze to meet mine, and I can see the anxiety in his eyes. “I won’t force you to do something you don’t want, Matt. We can go home, watch some movie” I suggest, not able to hide the bit of disappointment in my voice. He notices it.

“No, it’s alright. We’re here anyway” and he gets out of the car. I can’t shake off the feeling he’s forcing himself to do this. That’s not what I want. Reluctantly I exit the car and reach his side as we walk towards the house. I take his hand in mine for reassurance, both his and mine, and we enter the already full house together.

Immediately the smell of smoke reaches us. I wrinkle my nose as we make our way through the living room, looking for the host. We find her in the kitchen, two beers in hand.

“You came!” She yells as soon as she sees me, making her way through the multitude of bodies that stand between us. I laugh happily at her outburst and her wobbly walk and immediately greet her with a hug, letting go of Matt’s hand.

“Of course! How could I miss it?” I ask grinning widely. I move back a step to be next to Matt again. “This is my boyfriend, Matt!” I introduce him to my friend, and she screeches about the fact that she’s been dying to meet him. I sense Matt flinching but my friend doesn’t notice. I do, though. He’s uncomfortable.

“We’ll just take something to drink, is that alright? Then we can catch up later” I tell my friend as I grab two cokes from the ice bucket. She voices her agreement before she shrieks again as soon as she sees another girl that played volleyball with us in school. With that she leaves us. I turn to look at Matt. 

“Did you like her?” I ask hopefully. He shrugs. “She yells a lot,” he deadpans. My shoulders sag, knowing this would be his answer but hoping he would say something else.

He senses my disappointment and takes my hand once again. “Sorry, sun. I’m trying” he says, his brows furrowed and his blue eyes sincere. I soften, knowing this is hard for him. He’s doing it for me. I smile and get on my tiptoes to peck his lips softly. “I know,” I whisper. 

Sometime later we make our way to the garden, where a bunch of different seats are spread all around on the grass. We sit down on a sofa where one of my old schoolmates invited us to. He was on the baseball team, if I remember well. We never really connected during school, but we were always at the same social gatherings, somehow. Tonight, he’s as drunk as one can be and suddenly considers me one of his oldest and dearest friends.

“And then, oh, then remember when they dared you to jump into the neighbors pool, and you actually did that?” He asks loudly and I giggle nervously, remembering I was a bit wild in my early teens. “Yeah, well, they called the cops after” I remember bashfully. 

“You never told me this story,” Matt says. I blush. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t one of my best moments” I admit embarrassed. Why do I feel so awkard? He’s my boyfriend, he knows me and he knows this happened years ago. I feel like I’m trying to make a good impression on him.

“This is just one of many, Matt!” Liam laughs. “She was a beast! You couldn’t stop her” I eye him carefully, not liking where this is going.

“You’re exaggerating” I try to joke, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. Liam scoffs. “Exaggerating? Nah. I was there! And if I remember it right, you never gave a fuck about what others thought. What’s changed?” He asks playfully. I feel Matt stiffen. 

“Nothing. I just don’t do this staff anymore” I deadpan, my face set in a stoic expression. I don’t like this conversation, I don’t like this party anymore. 

“Whatever, you’re no fun” Liam scoffs, his attention on me finally over. He turns around to find his next victim and I worriedly turn to look at Matt, but I find his expression extremely calm. 

“Everything ok?” I ask tentatively, and he turns to look at me quizzically.

“Yeah? I’m not a child who’s never interacted with the world” he spits, rather brutally. He’s upset, he doesn’t like my friends. 

“Well, sorry I asked then” I bite back, turning away from him as another one of my old acquaintances calls my name. I chat with her for a long time, forcing myself to laugh at her jokes and smile at the right moments, trying to ignore the gloomy boy next to me.

This is ridiculous. I told him he wasn’t obligated to come with me. Now he’s here and he’s trying to make me feel like shit? I’m not having it. I can’t be ashamed of who I am and was: this is part of me, and if he doesn’t like it, I haven’t chained him so that he can’t leave whenever he likes.

Matt bounces his leg, making the whole sofa tremble, and I grow rapidly irritated. I feel overwhelmed by everything that’s happening: the people that were part of my daily life once felt like strangers now, the stories they’re telling are making me feel self conscious, and the glares I sense from Matt are making me mad. I get up abruptly, Matt follows.

“Something wrong?” He asks, suddenly worried. Oh, so now that he got what he wanted he’s suddenly worried about me?

“I want to leave” I say flatly, making my way to the door. He quickly comes after me, trying to keep up with my pace. Once we’re inside his car and he starts the engine, I feel his gaze on me.

“Were you not having fun?” He asks, and I almost believe he’s oblivious to how he made me feel tonight. 

“No, drive” I mutter, my cheek against the window. He doesn’t say anything as he wordlessly drives towards his house.

“I want to sleep at my house tonight” I say, hearing him take a breath.

“Why?” 

“I just want to”

“Your things are at my place, though”

“I’ll get them tomorrow”

“Sun, can you tell me what I did wrong?” He asks, his voice pleading.

Why do I feel like crying? I should be angry, instead I’m just ashamed. I haven’t felt like tonight in a while.

“Are you serious?” I whisper, turning to look at him. He senses my discomfort and quickly pulls over, killing the engine and turning his head to look at me.

“What’s wrong?” He asks again, his brow raised.

“All night, you acted like I forced you to come with me! You kept puffing and huffing all the time. I was afraid to say the wrong thing and piss you off!” I outburst, my cheeks red and my eyes watery. 

Matt stays silent for a while, waiting to see if I have something else to say. I don't. Once he realizes this, he lets out a breath.

“Can I speak now?” he asks. I nod, my eyes on the road in front of us.

“I’m sorry you felt this way, sun. I tried to enjoy it. It was just too much. I felt overwhelmed by all the people there. And honestly I also felt stupid” he confesses. 

“What? Why?” I ask, furrowing my brows.

“Because I feel like you don’t tell me things? I don’t know, it feels like you're always walking on eggshells around me.” he explains. I widen my eyes at his words. What is he talking about?

“I don’t know what you mean” I say defensively. He scoffs.

“Right. I feel like you don’t tell me things about your past. Why is that?” 

“Because of how you’re acting now” I raise my voice.

“And how am I acting?”

“Like you’re accusing me of something!” I snap, tears in my eyes. This is escalating way too far. And I know it’s my fault: he’s trying to explain himself while I’m being all defensive. I can’t help it. I don’t want him to change his view of me, but I feel like I’m slipping away.

“Hey, kid, calm down” he mumbles.

“Don’t call me kid.” I hate when he does that. He rests his head against the seat and closes his eyes. I watch him, scared he’s had enough of me. 

“Matt…” I whisper to get his attention. I have to explain myself as well. “Sometimes… I’m ashamed. I don’t like some things I did when I was younger, I know they were careless. I didn’t want you to think less of me if you knew” I admit. He tilts his head in that sweet way of his, a small smile on his lips. “What?” I ask, baffled. He shakes his head. 

“C’mere” he murmurs, gesturing to come closer. Slowly, I climb over the console with his help and finally rest my legs on each side of his. He holds me by my waist and pulls me closer. I let him. 

“Sun, you need to stop doing this” he says distractedly, fingers tracing my hip bone. 

“Do what?” I ask, my eyes transfixed on his long fingers. 

“Assuming things about me. Thinking I’ll get tired of you just because you never shut up” I lift my head rapidly, ready to snap at him again that if he doesn’t like my yapping, he can always leave me, but I see him grinning widely as his fingers start to tickle me. 

I snort very unlady-like and try to free myself from his grasp, failing miserably when he stops my futile attempts by kissing me. I mumble something intelligible as his lips press against mine over and over again, effectively shutting me up. I sigh into the kiss as my arms wrap around his neck, my fingers toying with his soft hair. 

His hands never stop touching me: my shoulders, my neck, my back, until they rest again on my hips, his fingertips grazing my butt.

“Sleep with me tonight” He murmurs as he trails kisses down the column of my neck, his voice husky and his warm breath making me shiver.

“You don’t really wanna sleep at yours, right, pretty girl?” he asks, biting down my shoulder gently. I let out a whine at the pet name, shaking my head slowly. 

“I thought you had enough of me for the day” I admit pathetically. He tuts and shakes his head, a smirk on his lips. “You think a lot, don’t you?” he mocks me as one of his hands trails my chest, feather-like touch making me squirm. 

“Shut up” I breathe when he finally cups one of my breasts through my top, his fingers gently tracing my erect nipple. He laughs quietly, seeing the reaction he has on me. Then, after one last kiss to my lips, he lets go of me, leaving me hot and bothered while he seems completely fine and ready to drive back to his place. I try to even my breathing as I watch him, his expression betrays his controlled demeanor. He still has that damn smirk on him, he knows I can’t wait to get home. His hand rests on my thigh, squeezing it gently every once in a while. 

“I don’t think less of you, just so you know” He breaks the silence of the car ride. I don’t say anything, my hand placed over his. “I’m serious, sun. I just wanted to hear about your past from you, not someone else.” he explains. I nod, a big weight lifting from my shoulders. 

“I’m sorry I overreacted” I answer, feeling awful that my fears overpowered me tonight, clouding my sense of judgment.

“‘s fine” he smiles, patting my thigh. He parks the car and waits for me before walking towards his front door. His brothers are probably asleep by now, but we try to be quiet anyway. He opens the door for me and as I pass by him, I feel his hand slapping my ass quickly. I turn around to tell him to stop or else his brothers will wake up but in a second he’s on me: hands on my jaw to turn my face up as his lips slot over mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth. 

He effectively shuts up every protest I had, as I blindly walk back into his house, his sure steps guiding me. If he makes me trip I’ll seriously be pissed. But he doesn’t. I don’t even realize it but we’re in his room, the door locked behind us. 

He walks me towards his bed, trying at the same time to kiss me and to take off my top. He struggles a bit and I laugh, squeaking right after when he spanks me again. “Matthew, I swear if you don’t quit it-” 

“What? I’m curious, what will you do?” he asks as he finally manages to get my top out of the way. As always, his eyes trail down to my exposed chest. It doesn’t matter how many times he sees me, he always acts like it’s the first time. I blush at his serious gaze, my hands trailing on his waist to get rid of his sweater as well. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He laughs teasingly and I scoff, my hand pushing his chest away from me. He doesn’t let me get far though as his arms lift me off the ground making me yelp. A second later, my back meets the softness of his dark sheets, him soon following after me.

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen” he mumbles under his breath, making me squirm under him.

“Come here” I urge him, my arms pulling him down towards me. He lets me, his hot lips peppering my face with kisses making me giggle and turn away from him. “Stop!” my laugh turns into a whine when he presses his hips against mine, making me feel how hard he actually is and effectively changing the mood. I try to breathe normally as I spread my legs to give him room, my skirt rising up on its own accord. Matt pushes it out of the way so that my panties are on full display for his hungry gaze. 

“Let’s see...” He mumbles as his fingers trace the cotton material. He looks up at me in mock surprise. “Who made you this wet?” he asks, voice husky. 

“Bloody Santa Claus” I joke, rolling my eyes. He doesn’t smile, though, just shakes his head.

“Do I have to gag you?” He asks rhetorically. I shake my head, giggling. “Sorry, my love” he smiles softly at the pet name and moves his hand under my panties, making me gasp at the sudden gesture. My breath speeds up as his agile fingers find my clit easily, making small quick circles just the way I like it. 

I moan wantonly as I try to keep my eyes open to watch him, on his knees between my legs with his hair now messy from my fingers. His other hand slowly caresses my face, his thumb on my bottom lip, making me slightly open my mouth. I kiss his digits one by one and take his thumb in my mouth, sucking it gently and hollowing my cheeks a bit, my eyes staring directly at his.

“Fuck” He groans at the sight, one of his fingers probing at my entrance.

“‘Gotta stretch you out a bit, pretty girl” He informs me like I’m not aware of the fact I need some preparation to be able to take him. I nod furiously as his long finger enters me slowly, making me get used to the sensation before starting to move in and out of me. Soon it’s two fingers, all the while his thumb never stopped working on my clit. I grab his biceps as I try to muffle my moans of pleasure.

“Matt, please…” I whimper, eyes screwed shut as I feel the coil on my stomach grow more and more, my legs moving uncontrollably.

“What do you need?” He asks me, his lips next to my ear as he keeps his ministrations going. He’s trying to sound calm but his cock pressing up against my thigh lets me know how excited he actually is.

“You know what I need” I breathe as he pumps his fingers faster.

He furrows his brows and I can sense what he’s thinking. Before I can say anything, he stops his movements, his fingers still inside me. I whine disappointed. “Why did you stop?” I ask, trying to move my hips up to gain some friction. 

“You didn’t answer me, so I just figured I had to stop” he teases me, making me roll my eyes. He wants to hear me beg.

“Come on, my love, please” I say sweetly, lifting my head up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I need you” I pant to his ear. “I was so close” and I end it all biting his lobe, knowing this would send him to another planet. He gasps, his fingers give an involuntary thrust that makes me squeal. 

“Yeah?” He asks gruffly. I hear the sound of a zip as he shimmies his pants down his legs until he kicks them away. My hands immediately go to his hips, still covered by his boxers. One trails to the front, where his dick is hard and aching. He must be uncomfortable, restrained like that: I decide to be kind and help him, taking his cock out of its confines. Matt lets out a breath of relief as I start to steadily stroke his length. 

He slowly lowers his hips to mine and slots his cock between my folds, making me gasp when his tip hits my clit repeatedly as his hips rock back and forth. I raise my legs and interlock them behind his back, pulling him flush against me. 

“Matt, I want it” I moan breathlessly, my hands on his hair.

“Yeah? Want my cock in your pretty pussy?” he asks me, panting slightly from the stimulation. I nod furiously, not wanting to wait anymore.

“See? It was easy to admit” Before I can think of some snarky remark, he aligns his cock with my center and slowly pushes in, effectively making me forget anything I was about to say. 

I feel him stretching me out so good, and I try to relax my muscles to ease his access. Matt’s brows are furrowed in concentration. Even with our banter, he’s always very attentive not to hurt me. I smile fondly at his expression and kiss his forehead, making him halt for a moment, his eyes bright. 

“I’m so in love with you” I whimper sincerely, taken by sudden emotion. He smiles back and kisses my lips slowly, his hips starting to move. I whine into the kiss, my hips lifting up trying to be at his same pace. His arms cage me and I feel so safe, so happy to be with him, in his bed.

“You have no idea how much I adore you” He moans against my shoulder, his hips going faster and faster, making my head spin. His hand slips down to play with my clit once again, making me see stars. My legs tremble once again around him, a tell tale of the fact I’m about to cum.

“Will you come around my cock, pretty girl?” he pants as he doubles his efforts to get me there. I moan in response and he laughs, kissing my temple.

“Come on, baby, I know you’re there. Wanna feel you” he mutters, and I know he’s close as well. With one last hard thrust I feel my orgasm crash through me, my whines muffled by Matt’s mouth on mine. 

“Shit. Squeezing me so tight” he groans, and I feel his dick twitch inside me as he lets out a long moan. He stills his movements when he comes, his eyes screwed shut as I hug him tightly against my chest, praising him in his ear. He tries to even his breathing as I trace patterns on his back, and we both lay silently on his bed in complete bliss. 

Some time later he slowly pulls out of me, making me shiver slightly. He grabs a glass of water from his bedside table and offers it to me, and I gladly accept it, gulping it down. We set under the covers, his head on my chest and his arms around me. 

He laughs suddenly. “What?” I ask, confused. He smirks, looking up at me. 

“Who would have guessed the only way to shut you up was to fuck you?” He asks proudly.

“Matthew I swear to God-”

a/n: feedback is greatly appreciated! :)

[petday]

your art is so so so so inspiring to me which is strange bc my style isnt very similar to yours at all. but it makes me happy to see your art, especially when you make art from things from childhood id forgotten about💫💫💫💫💫🩷🩷🩷🩷

Thanks. Your message and similar messages from others over the years inspired me to try to put into words why I draw 'nostalgic things'. I ended up writing a lot.

There was a period of time when I became cynical about being seen as an 'artist who reminds people of childhood' or a 'nostalgic artist'. I no longer feel that way but I will explain why. Some artists, who I like and respect, will sometimes mention 'nostalgia holding artist's growth back' and 'nostalgia causes learned helplessness.' But I feel differently.

Maybe I perceive time differently. I have lived long enough to witness cycles of 'what is valued, and what is not valued' repeated. For example, I loved what is now called 'Y2K' style, but during mid 2000s, for whatever reason it was derided as something to be left in the past, something embarrassing. "Aren't we glad we optimized things now, and they are 'sleeker' and less complex? Old things were childish, an embarrassing weakness for humans, we must advance and reach our ideal evolution." That became the common attitude. I felt pressure to have the same thoughts. I just couldn't make myself feel that way no matter what, though. Even with the increasing threats about, 'keep up with others or you won't ever develop positive social relationships!' I couldn't change my mind.

(If what is currently valued becomes devalued and then it becomes valuable after that… that's an odd cycle to me. For example, if we like bananas, even when bananas cannot be harvested, we still like them even though they occupy a smaller space in our minds but we don't deride them. Going even further, though, I sometimes wonder if it is possible for humans to eventually remove the 'devaluation' stage, particularly in art 'trends' as I am an artist. Whatever is considered valuable remains valuable. A counter arguement would be, 'no, the devaluation of the previous thing is exactly what causes the next thing to be valued, and then the cycle flows beautifully: X was valued -> Y is valued, X is devalued -> Y is devalued, X becomes valuable again. If you want X to always remain valuable, just develop better patience. Like we cannot pick fruit we like all year, we cannot simply keep adding onto the pile of things we like, something has to be seen as inferior by the majority of humans.' I disagree. I might explain my thoughts against this argument more in the future.)

Anyway, what people call 'Y2K style' or 'art that emulates how things commonly appeared in early years of 2000s' is popular nowadays. Even someone who did not grow up with it can become attracted to it. That 'desire' itself is a communication between past and present. Something can make someone feel 'lighter' [in sense of, "wow, the crushing weight of my circumstance feels not so crushing when I look at this'] -- a similar 'light' to how someone in the past was perceiving it when it was the present and not the past. So, even though two people were born in different eras and may not become friends or even meet, they're still connected by that 'lighthearted' feeling they both like. I know it will be seen as 'lower value' soon, but I truly cannot care because as I mentioned earlier, I might perceive 'time' weirdly.

When I started playing video games, a family member would point out, 'those games were made before you were born, interesting!' but that statement confused me at the time since my perception was, 'well, if these games are from before I was born, I don't understand why she is bringing attention to it. Why is it interesting? It's just regular. They're alive in the present now, because I'm in the present and so are they.' That was when I was a very young child. I subconsciously kept the same feeling even as I was reaching teenage and adult years. The feeling echoed when people liked to ask the question 'why are you still playing games from long ago?' as I got older but still played the same 'old' games. The answer: they are beautiful and will remain beautiful, and something made in the past is still communicating in the present, so are they really truly 'outdated inferior games'...? Just because the cycle of valued and devalued happened to be in a different position and those old things were seen as an embarrassment? (Now there are popular games inspired by the era of games many people ridiculed me for consistently enjoying, lol. Similarly, I was using 'crappy' old versions of programs even through 2017. Now people from wealthy upbringing and background use 'crappy' programs willingly. lol)

The present talks to the past all the time, nostalgia is not a dead end. In that sense I cannot see nostalgia as a death trap but rather a connection made from past to present. A string between the past and present that feelings can crawl across and communicate. Feelings such as 'I wish my life took a different direction. I can't make things like how they were back then, it won't ever be the same again, so I'll do nothing.' The criticism of 'nostalgia' is towards that last sentence. But there are things you can do with those feelings. 'Doing nothing is boring. And I keep thinking of that fun drawing I saw... I kinda wanna try to make something.' Making something while thinking of the past and present at the same time, so there is a communication between past self and present self. Pure bitterness communicating with slightly light-hearted view, the 'end result' is artwork/creation.

*I used light-hearted feeling as example, but nostalgia can exist for any feeling, and not just for people who were nice when they were younger. If someone was cruel as a child/teenager, after the person has been an adult for a while, they can communicate with their younger self about what was it about the cruelty that was enjoyable, and then extract a small part from the cruelty that they wish to bring back into the present -- example, the attraction to 'high speed activities, playful mischievousness' can be extracted from 'hurting people on purpose so they will acknowledge/react to you'. The dialogue could be something like, "'honestly, you and I both know spamming people with bad things felt pretty fun at the time, so let's just keep the 'high energy mischievousness' feeling and leave behind the crap that hurt people deeply, and let's make an animation while thinking of that high energy feeling.

^ I don't answer questions or reply to messages often because of giving answers that aren't too long or too short is tough for me. lol. Thanks for liking my art. I like a lot of art that doesn't resemble mine as well. It's fun! Like appreciating different flavours in the same meal even if you cannot make the meal yourself.

[spacelazarwolf]

most of the jews who barge into my inbox or onto my posts about jews by choice don't actually seem to know literally anything about how conversion actually works, so let me break it down for you.

conversion takes at the very least one calendar year, but can take upwards of several years or even several decades depending on the individual and when they feel ready.

the process (for people who are converting as adults, not people who were converted as children) usually looks something like this

person starts to question if conversion is right for them. this stage can take anywhere from months to years.

if the person is in a place with a jewish community, they start researching synagogues and eventually reach out to a rabbi or several. if they're not in a place with a jewish community, they'll need to decide if they want to move in order to convert.

some rabbis will be indifferent when contacted about conversion, some will send you away to see if you come back (there's an old tradition of sending prospective converts away three times, but this isn't as common practice now), some will be happy to talk to prospective converts.

the person now has a sponsoring rabbi. they will be signed up for educational classes that will teach them the basics of jewish history, jewish tradition, liturgy, etc. they will also be expected to do a lot of independent reading. most prospective converts meet with their sponsoring rabbi once per month or so.

most sponsoring rabbis want prospective converts to have a certain level of observance in order to practice what it will be like to live as a jew. there are some things they may ask prospective converts to hold off on until after their mikveh, like wearing a tallit and wrapping tefillin or wearing a star of david, some orthodox converts will intentionally break shabbat in order to not 'fully observe' until after their mikveh.

there are usually a lot of costs associated with converting. it's very possible to borrow books from libraries or find them for cheap, but many want to fill their bookshelf with as many resources as possible. there is also the cost of judaica, as most prospective converts do not have jewish family to inherit judaica from. this can get incredibly expensive.

the sponsoring rabbi is the one who decides if the prospective convert is ready for their beit din. once they approach the topic with the prospective convert and the convert agrees they are ready, the beit din is scheduled.

for their beit din, three rabbis (or sometimes non rabbinic scholars) will speak to the prospective convert about what their journey has been like, why they want to convert, what they find meaningful, how they have handled any antisemitism they've faced, if they are ready to align themselves with the jewish people for the rest of their life, etc. it's not just a 'u ready?' it can get very intense.

the beit din decides if the prospective convert is ready to join the jewish people. if they decide they're not ready, the prospective convert can continue to study and schedule another beit din in the future. if they decide they are ready, a mikveh is scheduled and the prospective convert becomes a jew.

after that, they're a jew. that's it. the end.

details can vary from community to community, but this is a general rundown of how it works. no one just randomly decides one day to become jewish. people who go through the conversion process, even through movements that are not as rigorous as orthodox movements, are required to do essentially a mini degree in jewish studies, uproot their whole life, potentially lose family, friends, and community, and align themselves with a marginalized people for the rest of their life. so anyone who tries to trash them can sniff my farts.

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: Soulmates share their dreams every night and can communicate in them, but it's Spiderbit

For day three of @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week - Soulmates

-

Dream One: How to Train Your Dragon

He blinks awake and finds himself far from the battlefield. His clothes are dry and not muddy, his skin is clean, his teeth feel dull in his mouth.

He's in a strange room: fireplace, stiff bed beneath him(but, really, any kind of bed is better than what he's had since the War started.) The smell of cooked fish.

He grimaces. He likes cooked flesh better, thanks.

This is a dream. He knows it's a dream, so he doesn't hesitate in hopping out of bed and stretching. There isn't a burn in his muscles, and the dull ache of his growing bones is finally gone. Heck yeah.

It's peaceful, in a way. Weird, but peaceful. Really disconcerting, but peaceful.

And then a monster screeches outside loud enough to shake the windowpanes.

He instinctively reaches for his sword, realizes that, right, dream. Of course he wouldn't have his sword in his dreams, that would be stupid.

He runs outside, anyway, because duh. If there's a monster, he wants to see it!

He sees the dragon first: large and yellow and missing one of its legs. It growls at him with a weird dragony smile, and he smiles back.

He sees the child second: short with messy hair and freckles. He gasps when he sees him and runs at him with a gap-toothed smile.

"Hi!" he chirps. He's speaking Portuguese, but that isn't what his mouth is saying. Dream stuff, huh, must be translating everything.

Neat.

"You're my soulmate, right?" the boy asks. He looks him over appraisingly. "You aren't that much older than me."

He scoffs, crosses his arms. "I'm literally so much older than you."

"Yeah? Well, how old are you, then?"

He blinks, throat dry. "I'm-" (He can't remember. But Bad always says that he looks to be about 13, so...) "-13. So I'm way older than you."

The boy puffs his chest out annoyedly. "Only by a few years. Screw you!"

The dragon flies off, bored. He would care more if there wasn't an annoying little kid in front of him pissing him off.

He takes an angry step forward, arms falling to his sides and hands balling into fists. He might not have his sword, but he can still beat up a kid easy.

"Screw you!" he shouts. "Get out of my dream! I wanna go hang out with the dragons."

"It's our dream, idiot," the kid huffs. "We're soulmates, duh. My grandpa says that everyone shares dreams with their soulmates, so we're obviously soulmates."

"What the fuck is a soulmate?"

The kid gasps, all anger pouring out of his tiny little body. "You don't know what a soulmate is?"

He doesn't know what his own name is, but he isn't exactly gonna tell some kid that.

He turns to leave and go find the dragon, but he's stopped by both of the kid's tiny hands grabbing his sleeve and pulling at him until he stays.

He turns to look at the kid, and the kid smiles and explains.

-

"Soulmates are, well, soulmates, okay? They're like super best friends, that's what my grandpa says. His soulmate is dead, but they still hang out in his dreams because that's where your soulmate lives until you find them. And after you find them, too, I think, but I dunno. He says he never met his soulmate before they died, but I think he's lying 'cause he's really silly sometimes."

"Okay, but. Us? You and me? You're a kid."

"You're a kid, too, you know."

"Nuh-uh. I'm a soldier."

"A kid soldier. But, anyway, we're soulmates! When we meet in the real world, we're gonna be best friends, I can tell!"

"Yeah? Well, don't be too sure. I don't do friends."

"Wow, you're emo."

"What the fuck did you just say to me?!"

-

Dream Thirty-Two: Cyberpunk

He laughs as he chases the kid through the slimy, neon-ridden back alleys of the city. He's on a motorcycle, because of course he is, but the kid is on foot.

"Just give up already!" he shouts.

The kid flips him off over his shoulder, grinning widely. He keeps tripping over his own shoelaces, because he's running like an idiot, but he's somehow still faster than the motorcycle.

He doesn't know the kid's name because the kid decided it wouldn't be fair to have a name when he doesn't know his own. Sweet kid. Shame he's annoying.

"Fuck you!" the kid replies. He then proceeds to trip over the cuff of his pants and fall right onto his face in a muddy puddle.

He cackles triumphantly and slows the bike to a stop. He hops off it and goes to poke at the kid until he gives up, but... but he's crying. Quietly, he's crying quietly, but his shoulders are shaking, and, oh, right, he's a child. He's the younger one.

His face falls. He kneels next to the kid and helps him sit up with a frown.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

The kid's lip wobbles, and his eyes shine, but he nods. "It's just a dream. It doesn't really hurt."

He isn't convinced, but, well. It is a dream. Nothing matters in a dream, right?

"Okay," he hesitantly says. "Come on, let's go play laser tag or something."

The kid's eyes light up. "Cool! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"Oh, really?" he challenges. "You're on!"

And they run off, motorcycle forgotten.

-

"How did you beat me!?"

"I'm just a God Gamer, dude. Get on my level."

"You are so annoying."

-

Dream Seven Hundred and Fifty-Two: High School

"I think I'm going to give myself a name," he announces.

The kid's eyes widen. "Really? Took you long enough."

He rolls his eyes, but the kid isn't wrong. They've been meeting in their dreams for, what, two years? And they still don't have anything to call each other but "idiot" and "you" and "asshole".

But, well, it's about time, he thinks. The War is ending soon, he thinks. Bad says so, at least, and he's pretty good with knowing when things end.

With the War ending, he's going to have to go out into the "real world"... if he doesn't manage to follow Bad where he goes next. But where's the fun in that?

He shrugs. "I need a name. If I don't have one, I can't join the army."

"Why do you wanna join the army?"

"So I can keep killing people, duh. How else am I supposed to get food?"

"Uh, the store?"

"What's that?"

The kid rolls his eyes and pushes his shoulder. "You're literally stupid, what the heck?"

They're in some kind of food line, he thinks. They shuffle forward as the faceless teenagers in front of them get their trays and continue through the line.

He picks up his own tray and wrinkles his nose at the food he sincerely hopes isn't about to be placed on it. Where's the meat?

"What kind of name do you want?" the kid asks.

He's hit some kind of growth spurt, because he's finally up to his shoulder. Still short, though. Loser.

"Dunno," he responds. "I'll think of something later, probably."

-

"What about... Peter?"

"No."

"Miles."

"No."

"Miguel."

"No."

"Ben."

"No."

"You suck!"

-

Dream One Thousand and Ninety-Five: Mermaids

"Call me Cell," he says.

The kid- not quite a kid anymore, much closer to Cell's age when the soulmate dreams started- cocks his head curiously.

"Like, as in a cell phone?" he asks.

Cell grins as shark-like as the tail he's currently sporting.

"Exactly," he says.

The kid's eyes narrow. "Or, like in a prison cell. Did you kill someone again?"

"...Maybe, but-"

"Oh my God, how are we supposed to meet each other if you're in jail!"

The kid swims around in a frustrated circle around Cell, who just watches him, placid. Calm. Totally cool, definitely not at all sheepish over pissing his soulmate off.

That would be ridiculous.

Cell doesn't get sheepish, and he definitely doesn't feel regret. Not over some kid.

...Some kid who's his soulmate. They're best friends already, though, so he should be fine with Cell being stuck in prison for a bit.

Cell rolls his eyes and reaches out and grabs the kid and stops him from swimming. He looks him in the eyes, and he smiles, softer than intended. (He's Cell! He isn't soft. He's a killer!)

"Calm down," he drawls. "I'll be out of here before you know it."

"Really?" the kid asks. "Is your sentence that short?"

"Nah, I'm gonna break out."

He lets the kid go and starts swimming off in a random direction, not waiting for the kid to follow. (He does.)

"Must be a shitty prison, then," the kid comments.

"Trust me, I'll be out soon, and then I can try getting up to Mexico again to see you."

"Then I can teach you how to drive."

Cell flicks his tail at him annoyedly. "Shut up, I can already drive."

"No way."

"Yes way!"

They continue bickering and chasing each other through the coral until Cell feels consciousness tickling at him.

"Hey," he asks, "I told you my name. You tell me yours."

The kid smiles, and he does.

-

"My name is Roier."

"And my name is Cell."

"You already told me that, idiot."

"Oh, yeah."

-

Dream One Thousand, Eight Hundred, and Twenty-Seven: 1920s Mafia

Even in his dreams, he's dying. He's in a pool of his own blood with a couple dozen bullets plugged into his chest, but it doesn't hurt quite as much as the goddamn betrayal burning his skin from the inside out.

If he dies in the dream, he wakes up. Cell knows this, so he's more than a little annoyed about the whole dying thing. At least in his dreams, dying doesn't hurt.

The cops that killed him have already long gone. They may not have had faces, but Cell knows precisely who they looked like. All four of them were traitors, all four of them!

"Bastards," he spits. He groans as the movement of his tongue alone sets off flares of imaginary pain (because he can't feel pain in dreams, but he sure can imagine what it feels like) all throughout his body.

In the real world, he's starving to death in a cave. In the dream world, he's choking on his own blood.

Great.

His eyes slip closed, and he waits to wake up.

He doesn't react as a pair of heels click towards him.

"Cell?" Roier asks, but his voice is just the slightest bit off. But, then again, he is a teenager now. His voice is going to be doing all sorts of weird shit. "Oh my God, Cell! What the- hold on!"

Cell gasps as he's rolled onto his back. His eyes flutter open, and he sees... a girl? A girl in a really bad wig. With even worse makeup.

"Roier?" he mumbles. "What are you wearing?"

Roier looks down at himself- red sparkly dress and all- and blushes slightly. "I'm... trying something out. But what happened? You showed up in the dream and you ran off and I heard gunshots and you're so stupid, what the fuck?!"

He grits his teeth and smacks Cell lightly on the shoulder. But that's still enough to wrack Cell's body with pain.

"I'm sorry," he wheezes, eyes squinting closed once more. "I'm dying."

"It's a dream, Cell. I'm just pissed you're leaving this early. You just got here!"

"No, Roier. I'm dying. In the real world."

Roier goes quiet.

Cell swallows the blood in his throat and continues, "Pac and Mike and... and Guaxinim. They betrayed me. Left me on an island. I'm dying."

"You can't be," Roier faintly says. "We haven't met yet."

"Didn't your grandfather say he sees his soulmate in his dreams? We'll be fine."

"My grandpa is also senile. Cell, I- you're so stupid."

Something wet falls onto Cell's cheek, but it isn't rain. It never rains in dreams. It's always sunny.

Fuck. He made Roier cry. Maybe is a monster after all, and not in the good way.

The dream world starts dissolving, starting with Cell's fingertips. It... tingles.

Why can't real death be as soft?

-

"You better live, or... or I'll never talk to you again!"

"I... I'll try. Roier, I'll try."

-

Dream Two Thousand, Five Hundred, and Fifty-Five: My Little Pony

Tonight, he's a horse.

Why not.

It's his first dream in, what, two weeks? He hasn't slept long enough to dream. It's hard to sleep when all he sees until the dreams kick in is his own mistakes.

But, well. Cell turned 20 today (he thinks, he's still not sure about his actual age), and Felps got him drunk to celebrate. Drunk means sleepy, and sleepy means dreams, and dreams mean-

"Roier!" he calls, running through the streets of the pony town desperately. "I made it!"

Roier knows that he's been having trouble sleeping since his whole moral dilemma thing started after Alcatraz. He doesn't quite get it, but he's trying, and that's all that matters, right?

None of the faceless ponies pay Cell any attention as he goes, but that's fine. Fuck them. He promised his best friend that they'd see each other, and they're going to see each other.

He doesn't have to look too far, thankfully, because, a few moments in, a blazing red blur bolts out of the sky and tackles Cell to the ground.

"Happy birthday!" Roier exclaims.

He grins, wings flaring behind him. What's this called, a pegasus?

Roier's eyes widen, and his jaw drops in shock. "What the fuck, you're a unicorn? Lucky!"

Cell tries looking at his own horn, going so far as to go cross-eyed, but all he manages to do is make himself look goofy.

It makes Roier laugh, at least. That's good. He's been having... a rough time, Cell thinks. He's been quieter when they have been able to meet up. Something about his brother leaving to go to college: a child prodigy gone to an exclusive university and leaving his twin behind.

Cell can't imagine what it would be like to have a twin. Weird, right? Someone that looks just like him but is different? Yeah, no thanks.

(He gave up on any ideas of family a long time ago. Thinking about whoever he had before the War just makes him sad.)

"You're red," Cell intelligently says.

"And you're green. You look like shit."

Cell bites Roier's ear and smiles as Roier lets out an exaggerated scream.

"Missed you," Cell says, and he means it.

"Yeah, well, I didn't miss you at all," Roier sniffs.

But Cell doesn't believe him at all.

-

"I still can't believe your brother's name is Doied."

"Our parents weren't very original."

"Maybe you should do what I did and just pick a name."

"Fuck you, man, I like my name!"

"Lucky. I wish I could change mine. It's too... heavy."

"I mean, you already did it once. Just do it again."

"...You're right."

"I usually am."

-

Dream Four Thousand, Seven Hundred, and Forty-Eight: Medieval

Cellbit hasn't seen Roier for days, and he's maybe starting to freak out. Maybe. Just a little.

Just before he'd disappeared, Roier had mentioned winning some kind of lottery. He was excited, and Cellbit was excited for him. He'd been looking for his asshole twin brother for years, he deserved a break.

But then the break happened.

And Roier hasn't slept since, apparently.

But Cellbit sleeps every night, anyway, even if he'd much rather be spending his nights trying to figure out where the fuck his soulmate went. Because Roier's... Roier is his soulmate. They've been sharing dreams for thirteen years now, they're best friends, and Cellbit is dying without him.

Tonight's dream has Cellbit in a knight's costume drinking flavorless alcohol in a bar. Nothing has tasted right since Roier has disappeared.

He isn't dead, at least. If he was dead, then he would be in the dreams. So he's just... not sleeping. Somewhere. Somewhere not sleeping.

Cellbit's hand shakes with rage and fear as he raises his cup to his lips.

He isn't a killer anymore. Well, he is, but he only kills animals now. He's a butcher, but not in the serial killer way. In the... in the butcher way.

(His hands itch for more blood, but he's been trying to do better.

He can't meet Roier if he's in prison, after all.)

It's as he's drinking that the bar's door slams open and stumbling in comes Roier in fancy robes with a gold crown perched on top of his head.

Cellbit drops his cup and immediately gets off of his stool to rush to Roier's side.

"Roier, what the fuck?" he demands. "Where have you been?"

He pulls Roier into a tight hug, mindful of his armor.

God, is he crying? How embarrassing, but Roier's seen worse from him.

But:

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Roier asks.

And Cellbit's heart drops.

Roier wriggles free and looks Cellbit over. This... this can't be Roier, can it? Because there's no recognition in his eyes as he looks at Cellbit, and no slight blush as Cellbit looks at him.

Roier gasps. "Oh, wow. Are you my soulmate?"

Cellbit's eyes sting. "I- yes, Roier, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Kinda annoyed that you took so long, though."

Roier smacks Cellbit's shoulder.

Cellbit can't breathe.

"I'm 21, motherfucker!" Roier shouts. "What took you so long!"

"I've been here," Cellbit faintly says. "Roier, I've been here. What happened to you? You said you- you got invited to some island? And then you disappeared? What happened?"

Something sparks behind Roier's eyes, but it's gone as fast as it appears.

"I've been alone for years!" Roier exclaims. He groans and runs his hands through his hair, almost knocking the crown off his head. "God, what is Spreen going to think?"

"Spreen? Who's Spreen?"

And then Roier blushes, and he grins, and Cellbit feels sick to his goddamn stomach.

"Spreen is my best friend," Roier tells him, and Cellbit wants to kill.

-

"Where are you? In the real world?"

"On the island. Where are you? Maybe Osito Bimbo can bring you or something. We have train stations, there's gotta be special tickets for soulmates."

"I'm in Brazil. What island?"

"Quesadilla Island, of course."

-

Reality: Day One

Cellbit's head is killing him. Fucking... what happened? He can't... he can't remember...

"Cellbit, you doing okay?" Felps asks.

He seems fine, sitting on the ground and not at all caring about the literal shipwreck they're stuck in.

"Oh, sure, as Cellbit if he's doing okay," Mike scoffs. He's still not over the whole prison thing, but he'd been angry enough when hearing about Cellbit's soulmate being kidnapped to help kickstart the whole rescue mission.

What a good friend.

Pac rolls his eyes. "He's literally bleeding, Mike. Look at him!"

Oh, shit, is Cellbit bleeding?

He raises a hand to his head; it comes away bloody, oh.

At least it's stopped raining outside. Cellbit can't see much, trapped with the others in what might be some kind of office space just below-deck. But he can't hear the rain anymore, and he can't hear any thunder.

"I'm fine," he sighs. "I've had worse. We should-"

He's cut off by a shout from outside.

Pac's eyes widen comically. "This island is occupied?"

Apparently so, because in comes a whole stream of people through a single door inlaid in the far wall. Tall man in what has to be anime cosplay, slightly shorter man covered in... green goo? Woman in purple. Man in bucket hat. And...

Cellbit's eyes meet Roier's, and the world slots into place around them.

Cellbit stumbles up to the glass wall and presses his hands against it. So close...

Roier is much more hesitant to approach (he still hasn't found that Spreen guy yet, of course he's hesitant...), but he offers Cellbit a small, genuine smile.

(He's so much more handsome in person, what the fuck? When did this happen? He was shorter than Cellbit just a moment ago, he swears.)

"Finally," Cellbit breathes.

The crowd around them is drowned out by the sound of Roier's voice as he says, awed-sounding, "You actually came for me."

"Of course I did," Cellbit replies. He smiles. "We're soulmates, aren't we?"

Tears well up in Roier's eyes- happy tears, Cellbit knows him well enough to be able to tell the different by now.

And then the door opens.

[episims]

Foxfire ROS

After playing Foxfire for 9 rounds I've started to feel like I could use something to nudge me out of my routines a bit! For the next round, I'm going to try how adding random scenarios to the mix feels like 😁

I didn't find any existing scenario lists to be exactly what I wanted: more gameplay prompts that leave room for interpretation, and not so many strict rules or tasks or forced drama (my sims create enough of that as it is lol).

So I cherry-picked some scenarios that I liked, edited others, and created many new ones. A shout-out to @kayleigh-83 for this list that was a great starting point!

Night out: Visit a community lot after dark.

Bring your own basket: Visit a park with family or friends.

Movie marathon: Invite friends over for movies and snacks, or go on a movie binge by yourself.

Family matters: Invite over a relative or someone you share a similar bond with.

Fits like a glove: Wear a new accessory.

Games night: Set up a board game or fire up a console for an evening. PC owners can throw a lan party.

Burn off steam: Devote a day to exercising in any form.

Playing hooky: A child or teen skips one school day.

Online friends: Spend an evening chatting over the internet.

Fence-mending: Talk to a walkby you don't know or have a low relationship with.

Fertile ground: Get a new plant to your garden or other outdoor area.

Pulling strings: Use influence to your advantage.

Tired of cooking: Order delivery for a meal.

Peculiar flavor: The sim with the least cooking points takes the cooking turn.

Sprucing up: Choose a room or space and give it a facelift.

Touch base: Call the friend you currently have the lowest relationship score with.

Dine out: Eat at a restaurant.

New hobby: Try out a hobby you haven't explored before.

Broken record: Talk about your favorite hobby to every sim you encounter during one day.

Slumber party: Invite friends for a sleepover.

Power outage: Turn off all the lights except for candles and only make uncooked meals for a day.

Cloud over a head: Argue with every sim you encounter during one day.

Old gang: Meet up with the friends you have known for the longest.

Turn up the heat: Woohoo in public.

New ink: Get a tattoo.

Fresh air: Spend a day outdoors.

Homebody: Spend a day indoors.

Got the moves: Visit a community lot to hit the dance floor or turn on a stereo at home and dance until you run out of energy.

Make the bed: Change sheets for all beds on the lot.

Health concerns: Visit or call over a doctor.

All things are transient: Sell three objects.

Odd bottle: Consume a potion from your inventory.

Dig it: Spend a day treasure hunting.

Capture it: Take a picture and hang it on the wall.

Running on fumes: Have a cup of coffee once every few hours.

Reaching enlightenment: Meditate for a day.

Sugar rush: Prepare only desserts for a day.

Clocking extra time: Spend an evening on a computer either blogging, writing, or giving financial advice.

Dressed to the nines: Go on a date in formalwear.

Pretty lights: The outdoor areas of the lot are filled with fireflies for the round.

School assignment: A child or teen collects bugs for the round.

Stealing the show: Perform with an instrument or a microphone, freestyle for tips, or breakdance in public.

Devil on a shoulder: Prank every sim you encounter during one day.

Turning the page: Negative relationship effects are reduced for 48 hours and any existing fury states are cleared (get the 'forgiving' vacation benefit).

Meeting deadlines: Job performance is increased for 48 hours (get the 'industrious' vacation benefit).

Hot stuff: The attractiveness is increased for 48 hours (get the 'je ne sais quoi' vacation benefit).

On the ball: Skill, talent badge, and homework rates are increased for 48 hours (get the 'refreshed' vacation benefit).

Scatterbrained: Skill, talent badge, and homework rates are decreased for 48 hours (get the 'jetlagged' vacation penalty).

Bonfire night: Light up a bonfire with family or with friends.

Explosive entertainment: Throw a party with fireworks.

By example: Share hobby tips or instruct someone in a hobby, or find a sim who can share tips or instruct you in one.

Score points: Visit a community lot to play arcade games, poker, don't wake the llama, mahjong, or myshuno.

Self-care: Skilling is forbidden for a day. Instead, practice recovering activities like taking bubble baths, enjoying hot tubs or hot springs, getting massages, relaxing in saunas, or sunbathing.

Feeling chipper: Compliment every sim you encounter during one day.

I'll probably add these whenever I come up with new ones. Scenario ideas are welcome!

[alienpossession]

Another take from my end on the continuation of this much-beloved story, this time solely focusing on Andrei & Mike as they meet the ill-fated Steven from the original series by @apushforfolly

Bodybuilding is a rather tight-knit global community. The people you competed back in Las Vegas would be your competitor again in Dubai, in London, yeah, you get the gist of it. So while the Prince is busy consolidating domestic power, what the Prince directed the rest of us to do is to basically get our grip within the bodybuilding community and the ever-growing and increasingly cocky finance bros as stealthy as possible. Sander handled the finance and all those podcast bros flocking to Dubai. Meanwhile, me and Mike are quite influential within the UK bodybuilding circles, and with us based in Dubai, we did leverage that to our benefit as we lured some of the aspiring talent and even several of our old friends for a free Dubai trip which would lead to the end of their life as freedom human entity. Take Rory over here, quite a rather close friend of Andrei before the Prince and then I took this British-Romanian hunk for a spin

Rory eagerly took the offer to rekindle the friendship that just severed out of a sudden as he based himself in Bali while Andrei got his mind fucked by me as I hyper-focused myself to serve the Master and enlarge his influence. I didn't like to waste my time so within the first day he landed, right after I showed him and his girlfriend around their apartment I said to be free of charge as it was still in the market anyway, I simply bitchslapped him until he passed out and then proceeded to infect his girl first, taking the delight of Andrei's fucked up mind that held grudges to Rory for stealing his first crush, her. She cried, obviously, and even harder when she could feel that something terrible is coming with my cock that somehow enlarged beyond her comprehension, because it almost doubled in length and clearly that's not normal and she knows that. As my contained sludgebros released like a damn broken faucet into her throat, her eyes rolled to the back as black sludge overflown her mouth. But she's quick to regain her consciousness and with her mind set to infect her passed out boyfriend, I simply put my sweatpants back on and left the two lovebirds to settle their business.

That's basically one example of our MO, but it's the most effective because these bodybuilders really trust each other, especially when they came from the same country. And when we reached more bodies, it means we have more field operatives to take care off potential puppets. For example, Nico, like Andrei, is Romanian, and he's been out from the spotlight for a while. But, his physique is still great and he's considered a legend among the younger bodybuilders. So, of course I utilized his eagerness to learn a thing or two to become relevant from Andrei as my entry into his tight straight cunt and basically turned him into a puppet.

The legend status he holds gives him easier access to reach the coaches and the more senior bodybuilders, not even a week and he's already turning Jerome Weeks into a puppet too, just look at that wide, slightly off-putting smile the two of them did, if people paid attention a bit more, clearly they can tell that something is a bit not right there

There's also this easily leveraged dynamic of leeching off each other or trying to be in the more influential person's good light, and Mike really milked the shit out of it. He's charismatic, he's also probably the most well-off among the others and you just don't want to mess with him as he can legitimately messed with your influencer career if you crossed him.

Olly and his older stepbrother Craig bumped to Rory and Mike in the middle of a gym, and of course they asked Mike and Rory for a quick pic. The two brothers already planned to utilize the picture for some clout but they are also legitimately looked up to Mike especially, hence the slightly tense pictures despite multiple takes.

What the two humans failed to realize was the fact that both Rory and Mike licked their lips as they watched the siblings walked giddily to the locker room after the pic sesh. They grinned to each other and decided to join the two brothers in the locker room to have some "pep talk". While Rory handled Craig, Mike sauntered the impressionable 20 years old blondie. At first excited to see his idol and tried to respectfully stand up, Olly found himself taken aback as Mike instead pressed Olly back to the seat and then smirked

"I see the potential from you, dude. You can be a jacked piece of shit in no time and fucking popular too. All you neeed to do is open up that mouth, I know you blondie want a piece of this meat,"

Bewildered, Olly tried to fight back but Mike asserted his dominance in a split second as Olly found himself unable to even stand up as Mike held his shoulder and forced him to stay seated

"Don't force me to use my strength, noob. Now, as I said before, you have the potential, just open up that pretty mouth and let me show you how to get big," Mike said with a shit-eating grin so uncharacteristic of him. His crotch just inches away from Olly's quivering lips, and from Olly's POV, he meant every single words he said. Olly still resisted, he tried to scream for help but Mike's hand quickly muffled his mouth, blocking him to even let out a sound. He simply wished that anyone will walk in and caught Mike red-handed, but it seems like it's not goint to happen anytime soon. Unfortunately for him, as his eyes wandered looking for any good samaritan that can help him out of this predicament, his eyes caught a bizarre sight as his married stepbrother bobbed his head up and down Rory's dick like a cum whore! Mike gleefuly said with sinister undertone

"Yeah, even your older brother knows it's the right thing to do. Heck, it's the only way to get big nowadays. It's time for you to also start accepting that as the truth. Now, I won't repeat myself again, open,"

Seeing the tight-lipped Olly, Mike then take the liberty to simply fish out his cock out from his workout shorts, revealing a mean-looking 7.5 incher semi-hard uncut meat throbbing with excitement. He's been going commando since this morning, and the tough workout regiment clearly caused him to accumulate quite some sweat in his crotch. Mike just grazed the tip of his meat right to Olly's pink lips before the young sophomore jock relented to the pressure. His throat felt sticky and sore from all the thrusting, but he found out that he got no gag reflex whatsoever which caused Mike to grin in the first few seconds after the entirety of his cock lodged into Olly's throat

"Ohhh fffuuuckkk you really meant to be a cocksucker bro!"

The whole facefucking lasted for about 6 minutes before Mike started to get tight and exasperated. When Rory and Craig circled around Olly, that's when Olly realized that something is not right when his stepbrother's eyes looking a bit empty and glazed. But not long from both Rory and Craig sauntered the both of them, Mike shot his copious load into the trembling Olly, his body went on a full seizure as the slug takes over his bodily system. Olly eventually regained his consciousness and the first thing he do is to cough out the sticky mess that filled his mouth when he passed out and replaced by an alien slug. He then smiled a very wicked smile

"Now, can I infect other human on my own?"

"Hahahahahah, love the spirit, but not so quick bro, not so quick,"

----

So when Steven Barnett, a bodybuilder with Mining Engineering degree, arrived in Dubai for an all-inclusive honeymoon after marrying his girlfriend for 3 years which also happened to be the daughter of a US Army General, the gym junkie decided to squeeze in several workout session since he knows some of his favorite bodybuilders are based in Dubai. Unfortunately for him, the Prince intel already put a target behind his back the moment he booked a flight to Dubai with his now-wife.

The penthouse arranged by Andrei, the tour around town with Rory, the workout sesh with Mike and Olly, everything is simply part of the plan to ensure that Steven is well-monitored 24/7 throughout his stay. The Prince believed that it's time for him to make another move after consolidating the power in Dubai, and America sounded like a solid plan. So, when Steven walked into one of the last gym that has been recommended by a lot of his online followers, it's already a trap ready to capture him to become yet another puppet in the growing collection of the Master. He's just simply oblivious to the fact that he posed with puppets controlled by mere black slug that looked like a pitch black oil he found in his day job.

[starlightsearches]

Sad wet pathetic Hux… or… Sadistic asshole Hux? 🤭

She Is Mine

Thank you so much for this request, Lena! Sorry it took me so long 😬 I was overcome with horny visions that led to no writing, but sad wet pathetic Hux ultimately won the battle!

AN: Guess who's back? Hopefully nobody else is sick of this arranged marriage AU yet because I'm definitely not! This one's mainly hurt/comfort with some very low lows and some new highs! We've got incredibly jealous and pathetic Hux for your enjoyment uwu. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated, my loves!

Armitage tugs at the collar of his dress uniform, restless, wishing he could manage to ignore the crushing emptiness that's threatening to swallow him.

This is hardly the worst slight he's ever experienced. There had been hundreds of embarrassments and affronts to his pride—not even considering the deep aches from his childhood and their lingering stings.

So why is it this one that has him feeling like he's dying?

The answer is there—right in front of him, as it were—but even that is too painful. Armitage can't manage to meet your eyes.

And his hopes had been so high. Only hours ago there had been that singing, almost giddy feeling in his chest as you clung to his arm, walking with him into the glimmering party—the wide-eyed look of wonder and a smile on your face that the sip from his glass of Correlian whiskey only managed to dampen for a moment.

It had been beautiful. Perfect, even. The exact kind of moment he had been waiting for since he first laid eyes on you. The kind of moment that reflected the depth of his feeling.

The kind of moment where he might have the words to express his devotion.

And then there had been that man.

Armitage's vision goes black at the edges, even now, just thinking about the scene—the look on your face when you recognized this old friend, his possessive leering, the mockery in his tone and that sly gaze he'd shared with Armitage just out of your line of sight.

"You wouldn't mind, of course, general, if I stole your wife for just a moment?"

Armitage would mind. He minded very much.

And, still, on the exterior he had remained stoic, gracious even, had watched you walk out those gaping doors into the dim blue of the gardens, another man's hand pressed into the small of your back.

One of the other guests near the bar had called him brave, the mockery in his tone and the snide laughter of the others perfectly communicating that they all, including Armitage, were thinking the exact same thing.

His wife, secluded in the thick, dark branches of drooping trees, sheltered away from prying eyes, her feverish kisses in the darkness and eager, reaching hands.

Your obvious hunger for someone, for anyone, else.

His mouth had bled with the force of his teeth cutting into the meat of his cheek, and he had washed it away with slow, stinging sips of drink after drink.

Off the transport, the heels of your shoes click sharply, echoing in the empty halls and the hollow space behind his eyes, and your hand feels stolid and limp as it clings to his arm, the walls of his hurt and anger keeping you far from him.

The air in his quarters is stifling, and Armitage rips at the fastening of his collar until it snaps, but there's no help, no aid. Just a roiling nausea and the shake in his fingers that can't be quelled.

"Armitage?"

Your hand at his shoulder, voice sweet and ripe with a hurt he can't see. He won't meet your eyes.

"Is something wrong?"

Yes. He drops into a seated position on the plush couch, every line of him weary, every heartbeat a withering ache.

He has to face it. Despite himself, despite the longing and the fierceness and the depth of his need, Armitage knows that he has done you wrong. He has trapped you here, trapped you in this marriage without any real consent and against your will, trapped you in his permanent misery.

And that is something he cannot bear any longer.

Armitage leans heavily on his forearms, propped up by his knees, and rubs the sting from his eyes before meeting your gaze, still stunned, as always, to be in your presence.

"I consider your marital responsibilities to me fulfilled."

Hurt etches every aspect of your features, your steps hesitant before you fall into the space beside him. Your hand reaches for him, fingers trembling, never making contact.

"Armitage, I don't understand."

He swallows, continues, "this union has met the needs of my position and the contract between your father and the First Order, and there is no more I can expect from you. If you wish to find satisfaction for your- your romantic desires elsewhere, with proper discretion, I will not stand in your way."

The hand that had reached for him flashes back, pressed against your lips and there are tears in your eyes, catching the light, shimmering against dark lashes.

Your mouth trembles, unable to form the words you need. Maybe you'll thank him. Maybe you'll never speak to him again.

"Please," you whisper, "I don't- is this about Andres?"

Just hearing the other man's name is like a knife slid into the vulnerable spaces between his ribs, and he reminds himself that this is what he deserves, that it's only a fraction of the pain he must have caused you.

The look in his eyes must be answer enough. You stare at each other in the silence, and he waits for the end.

Your fingers are chill, the feeling unexpected, when they brush against his cheek, smoothing over the the sharp contours of his face. It's a gentle gesture, as if you're wiping away tears he knows are not there.

"Andres is an old friend," you tell him, quiet, kind, and something else he can't puzzle out, "but he is careless with his things, and with people."

That spike of anger returns, for a moment, washing away everything else.

"Was he careless with you?"

Fragments of glitter that dust your skin catch in the light, disappearing and reappearing with each small shake of your head, as if by magic.

"I never let him close enough."

Armitage is close enough, and more aware of it than ever before, tasting the air you breathe, feeling the singing heat of your skin so near to his. But you must know that he is never careless.

You lean into the kiss he presses to your lips, part your mouth and sigh into his deep breaths as he tastes you.

And that same desperation is back, his body pressing yours into the cushions, the solid weight of you here, and for the first time, knowing you want to be.

A hand at your neck, that racing pulse, and your sweet, soft gasps, almost moans at the feeling of him.

Armitage finds himself sinking, once again, beneath that light-headed fear—that shaking, disorienting spark of your touch.

He wants to run from it. And he wants to stay.

"Do you want me to stop now?" He breathes the question against your lips, meets your eyes and finds them burning with your own hidden desires.

"No," you promise with the shake of your head, "never."

Oh.

[kqtnap]

Hello can I request a Lawliet x reader

a girl detective who has grown up with him and watari but she stopped responding to the messages and attempts to communicate with him

Light Yagami

please

IN MY SOLITUDE.

l. lawliet x fem!reader

ꨄ︎ this isnt going to be very long, the 2nd part will be WAY longer im just trying to get atleast a bit of this out to show

ꨄ︎ content : fluff (?)

ꨄ︎ summary : fem!reader ignores Lawliets advances to try and contact her and eventually he gives up on trying. She later regrets this and makes an attempt to reach him and he lets her help on the kira investigation and eventually they make up.

ꨄ︎ side-note : im gonna be doing this in two parts because its a longer story >0<

ꨄ︎ wordcount : only 589 :3

"Watari, have you heard from her?" L asked, his voice laced of curiosity and concern as he sat cross-legged on the couch, a half-eaten plate of cake balancing precariously on his knee.

Watari, his eyes never leaving the multitude of screens in front of him, replied with a curt, "No, she hasn't been responding to my messages either." He says releasing a deep sigh.

The room was filled with a heavy silence that seemed to press against the walls. The once familiar chirping of birds outside had been replaced by the distant murmur of the city, a stark reminder of the passage of time. The warm, yellow light cast by the desk lamp threw deep shadows across L's face, highlighting the dark circles that had become a permanent fixture under his eyes. He took a bite of the apple, the crunch echoing in the quiet room.

"It's been months," L murmured, his gaze drifting to the silent phone on the coffee table. The female detective, someone he had known for so long, had suddenly gone quiet. They had shared countless cases, grown up together in the complex world of crime, and yet she had just disappeared from his life without a trace. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of anger at her sudden withdrawal, especially when he knew she had the skills and insight that could help him on the most critical case of his career, the Kira investigation.

Making a quick decision to contact the female, the dark haired male decided to send her one last email that could possibly change the situation and bring the two back together.

“Hello Y/N.

I would like to request that you meet me out for lunch at CAFEEL the coffee shop located in the underground section of Shinjuku Station in Tokyo tomorrow afternoon.

I have some very important things to discuss with you and I would greatly appreciate if you came alone.

Sincerely, L.”

y/n’s pov

My computer dinged, signaling i’ve received an email. I click over to the already opened tab to see one single email, I click it and soon im met with a breif email from L. Lawliet. My eyes darted back and fourth at the email, debating if I should write him a reply or just ignore it like have all the other emails.

I let out a shaky breath, contemplating my choices, I slide my mouse over to the bold ‘REPLY’ button at the end of the email I have received and I click on it. I quickly begin typing out my answer, feeling a light wave of sudden courage.

“ Dear L. Lawliet,

I hope this message finds you well. I sincerely apologize for not responding to your previous emails over the years; I appreciate your patience. I would be more than happy to meet you for lunch at CAFEEL tomorrow afternoon. It get how important this may be for our friendship and I understand the need for a private discussion. Please let me know what time works best for you, and I'll make sure to be there.”

I release a deep breath and start to stand up and stretch, releaving my body from being sat down in my old office chair for hours. I bend down a bit to close off my tabs and turn off my monitor for the night. I set the alarm on ny alarm clock for 9am to give myself time to get ready before I see my friend whom I havent contacted in years, finally heading to bed for a much needed rest.

WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT? >^<

this def isnt the best i couldve done but im not unhappy with it >_< i will try to do a part two of this as soon as i can but ive been very busy recently so..

and i very much appreciate anyone who has sent me requests i promise im working on them

and please criticize this and let me know what you think . tips/advice are appreciated >_<

and @alyssa-dayne please feel free to let me know if this isnt what you meant in the request i will glady rewrite it for you >_<

[shaunamilfman]

Being Shauna Shipman's Controversially Young Girlfriend

Adult Timeline Headcanons

nsfw mention

Shauna’s been divorced from Jeff for a few years for the sake of the plot. I think she'd be a writer maybe.

Shauna definitely enjoys the confidence booster that dating someone in their 20s would give her for sure. Shauna is very confident in her own attractiveness, but the idea of pulling someone that young really gets her going.

At the same she'd be extremely jealous of you interacting with attractive women your own age as she'd feel strangely threatened by it in her more insecure moments. She's definitely the ‘pull you away to make out in a back hallway’ type. She's got you pressed up against the wall covering you in hickeys asking stupidly jealous questions that you're far too focused on the feeling of her mouth to answer. Like what do you mean “is she hotter than me?” You just shoved my hand in your pants?? 

Leaving the function looking like you've been mauled by a bear while Shauna glares at whoever happened to speak to you. 

Shauna is a jealous and possessive partner in general but older Shauna is on crack. you're lucky to ever leave the house without being covered in hickeys in various stages of healing. she wants you to give them to her too. there's just something about physical representations of “ownership” that drives her insane. She likes when people see you together and know that you're both taken. 

college freshman Callie coming home a few days early and catching you standing in the kitchen in nothing but boxers and her mom's old high school t-shirt. this leads into the most awkward dinner ever because Shauna needs everyone to at least be civil. Callie making snarky comments all night until you finally make one back mean enough that she reaches a begrudging understanding with you. she still takes every opportunity to mock the two of you unfortunately. 

"please please please let me punch Callie" / "absolutely not”

Shauna calls you her step mother as a fuck you whenever Callie gets annoying. she's so petty

god Callie’s all in your business all the time but i also think she'd also be the first to defend you if someone else said anything though

side note but TaiVan would definitely serve you food on one of those kid plates to fuck with Shauna. God she'd be so mad.

unlike my Lottie HCs i do think Shauna would be embarrassed to meet your friends. Like the absolute queen of communication she is she would tell you she was embarrassed of the idea, but would instead pick increasingly petty fights with you leading up to it. Shauna finally ends the cold war when she misses you too much and confesses how she feels about it. You've definitely got to comfort her by showing her texts from your friends asking about your hot milf girlfriend or something before she'll be confident enough to do it. 

divorced Shauna would be pretty experienced sex wise I feel. Shauna Shipman is a woman who enjoys sex and seems pretty confident in her sexuality. Given the chance she'd definitely be really into exploring it with different partners. Long story short is that I think Shauna is definitely a woman who knows what she likes, but would be very open to exploring things sexually with you if she didn't already know she didn't like it. Shauna's not very open with her emotions, but I do think she's very open with her sexuality. This is a woman who canonly agrees to furniture store role play i think she'd humor you in most things. 

writer Shauna for sure works from a home office and would go crazy about the idea of yall hooking up in there fr

Shauna would get off on the idea of teaching things to you even if it's not necessarily true. She'd definitely like it if you let her pretend she was teaching you how to get her off. Your comparable inexperience is something she really enjoys about your age difference. 

Shauna Shipman and pet names is a lethal combination. “Sweetie” this, “sweetheart” that, “is that okay honey?” shauna is so nurturing when given the chance she'd thrive with someone she felt like she needed to take care of

Older Shauna enjoying teaching you things extends beyond just sex. She likes to teach you how to cook things that you don't know by like hugging you from behind and resting her head on your shoulder as she directs you on what to do. Beyond that it also just makes her feel useful and she enjoys feeling that way. 

Shauna hits you up once a week asking how bluetooth works. Shauna's okay with technology but she's the slowest fucking typer. I definitely think Callie lies to her about what acronyms mean so you get the wildest fucking texts sometimes and she's like “what??” when your confused

Shauna loves when you steal her clothes. just lounging around her house in nothing but her boxers and her flannel and she's going insane. Shauna accidently misplaces your clothes all the time so you have to wear hers instead. “oh i must have put them in the laundry you can wear mine” but suspiciously there's already shorts and a t-shirt laying out on her bed. strange. 

she's loves making you dinner, or making you something for lunch every once and a while. there's something about watching you eat something she made that makes her feel important and valued. 

Older Shauna gives the best fucking hugs of your life bro. Coming home from a bad day and just sitting with Shauna while she hugs you so tightly you can barely breathe. Shauna kissing you on the top of your head while her arm is around you watching TV?? insane 

[robinette-green]

Two Hunters and a Bloodsucker

My life is good for what it is. Except that I’m dead. Well, undead. I’ve been undead for about 15 years now, and I haven’t aged a day.

Being a vampire hiding among humans can be difficult at times, mainly dealing with sunlight and avoiding mirrors, but I manage. I’ve been living and working in this little town as the town blacksmith for about 7 years now, and I’ve become a full-fledged member of the little community here.

I thought I had been doing a good job hiding my presence among the humans, but one day two of the most well-known vampire hunters came into town. If they find out what I am, they will kill me, but both of them have become intent on becoming my friends and maybe more. How can I keep myself from being discovered when two hunters are trying to romance me?

Current word count: 58,520

Tags: Sun and Moon are humans, Fluff and Angst, Sun and Moon are vampire hunters, Blood, Not beta read we die like men!, Blood Drinking, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Angst and Feels, MC is a vampire, Mild Gore

AO3 Chapter Links:

Chapter 1: Hiding in Plain Sight Two vampire hunters come to town and ask me to forge them some silver bullets

Chapter 2: Complications Despite trying to avoid both hunters, I run into both and the flirting intensifies

Chapter 3: Deadly Romance The two hunters watch me work and I accidentally take a nap on the roof of my workshop

Chapter 4: This is a chapter I’ve gone too long without drinking blood but I need to finish these bullets.

Chapter 5: Leaving The hunters take me with them when they leave to take care of their next job

Chapter 6: This is Also a Chapter On the road and the hunters start asking me questions about being a vampire

Chapter 7: Chapter Name Here We reach a little seaside town and get a room at an inn

Chapter 8: Why do Chapters Need Names? It’s morning and we meet with an old friend of the hunters

Chapter 9: I Refuse to Come up With Another Real Chapter Name Classic horror movie setting. A thunderstorm and an old rickety house on a cliff.

Chapter 10: This Chapter has a Fight in it … This chapter had a fight in it.

Chapter 11: Really Dead? Lives are saved and we’re on the road again

Chapter 12: Hot Stuff (I’m not sorry) We make it to the capital city and meet the hunters’ uncle

Chapter 13: Well… Blood, a nap, and a nighttime walk

Chapter 14: AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! “What happened to ‘I need time?’”

Chapter 15: What are Emotions? Floating on a fluffy cloud of fluff.

Chapter 16: Calm before the Storm Food and new clothes

Chapter 17: Chapter The Hunters Guild

Chapter 18: Chapter the next Late night visitors and a trip to a famous smithy

Chapter 19: Beginning of the End Things aren’t always what they seem

Chapter 20: Loss and Blood Escaping and meeting a horse

Chapter 21: Running Trying to get back to town

Chapter 22: Chapter plus a number of Meeting old friend and coming up with a plan

Chapter 23: Body Chute Sneaking in to save the day

Chapter 24: Hell Fire We’re here to save the day! But can we get away?

Chapter 25: The Worst Chapter

Horrible things happen

Chapter 26: IN PROGRESS

[kesia-stupid-arts]

Post-Constant AU Masterpost: What happened to each survivor after they left the Constant?

If you're falling by parachutes here, this is an AU (Alternative Universe) elaborated by me and very biased, imagining what would happen to each survivor after they leave the Constant, so none of this is canon (but I wish it would be). I made this also to give context to some of my comics.

Context: This all happens when they reach the Ancient Gateway and it brings them back to Earth, all of them ended up at the same place, somewhere on the United States... And they have to return home. 6 years have passed since the last survivor mysteriously disappeared (reminder that the survivors probably got abducted at different times), around 1926~1930.

By the way, I will be considering DST survivors only (except Wilba) since the DLCs barely have lore about them, I find it hard to elaborate.

After you read, feel free to send an ask if you have any suggestions or critic!

For each survivor:

Starting by survivors who stayed at the Constant:

Wurt - She stays at the Constant to create her Merm empire that she dreamed about.

Wilba - In her thirst for adventure she always had, she ends up finding the way for the main land in Constant (the one the survivors were at), and (unfortunately for her), the place that the Merms rules. She eventually became friends with Wurt and they created an alliance between Pigs and Merms.

Wortox - Wortox actually occasionally jumps between the two worlds. He sometimes checks on Wurt, and sometimes go to Earth to bother and prank other survivors.

Wagstaff - ███ ███ ███ █████ ███ ███████ ███ ██ ████ ████

Characters who left the Constant (I will leave Max and Wes for last because they're the ones who I elaborated the most, I wonder why.)

Wilson, WX and Wormwood - Wilson returns to his lab and returns to his scientific experiments, trying to keep away from forbidden knowledge (he has learned his lesson). He keeps WX and Wormwood with him, to keep them out of trouble, as the world is not yet ready to meet a talking plant, and he keeps WX from taking over the world. With the help of both, but most especially the leftover knowledge from Woodrow, he becomes a successful scientist, he reforms his old lab to make it an actual home.

Warly - Warly returns to his Maman, who is now cured of her dementia, thanks to Maxwell. (See here: Link) He goes back into being a successful chef in France, moving with his mom.

Wickerbottom and Wanda - Wickerbottom returns to her home, and tries to rebuild her library with the knowledge she acquired from the books (without the forbidden knowledge). Wanda gets cured of her constantly age problem, and no longer needs to use her clocks, she is currently around the same age as Wickerbottom, and has to get used to age normally. She occasionally helps Wickerbottom with her books, which is kind of a boring job, but it's fine because she doesn't need to rush anymore.

Wolfgang and Woodie - I didn't elaborate much on these two, basically, Wolfgang goes back to being a strongman, and Woodie goes back to his home with his lumberjack job, he now has control over his curse, and only uses it when it's convenient.

Walter - Walter returns to his mom and officially adopts Woby (they don't have Monster Meat anymore so Woby is just a regular dog), back to his badge collecting! Walter sometimes visits Webber and he loves it because there's so many bugs.

Webber - Speaking of Webber, he's back to his mom and dad. His dad actually likes his new form, because he loves bugs (or arthropods, to be exact). He helps his dad eventually, as he can communicate with regular spiders, which helps his dad to study them better. As Webber grows up, he takes his father's office and becomes an entomologist, specialized in spiders.

Wendy - Wendy goes back to her dad, but unfortunately, she no longer has Abigail. Jack and Wendy are more united than ever, since they're the last family they have. (I will elaborate more on Maxwell's session).

Wigfrid - As Wigfrid's saga is over, the actress goes back to being a star, she wants to expand on her roles a bit.

Willow - Willow goes to live with Wigfrid, but Wigfrid's personality is very different from her actress, Willow feels like she's living with a stranger, instead of the girl she fell in love with. (See here: Link) She eventually moves from Wigfrid and re-meets Charlie. (See here: Link)

Winona - Winona goes back to her home now that she finally found her sister. She works now on a different company, since Voxola has gone bankrupt without Wagstaff, she's basically the CEO (and she hired Genny).

Charlie - Charlie is no longer the Shadow Queen, she now travels and explores the world like she always wished. She occasionally visits her sister to not leave her worried. She still has some sequels of her time as shadow queen...

Maxwell and Wes - After they left the Constant, Maxwell takes Wendy back to her dad, because he was her only family at the time. Maxwell brought Wendy back to Jack, and he welcomed them both happily, Wendy and Maxwell decided to not give too much details on what happened, and Jack decided he didn't want to know either, at least not at that moment, he was just happy to have his family back. Wes didn't go with Maxwell, due to some conflict after he found out Maxwell was working with Charlie during their last days in Constant. Maxwell was also conflicted internally, because he couldn't decide if he wanted to go back to Charlie, or stay with Wes. After a conversation with Charlie, he decided that their relationship could not work anymore after all that happened, and after they realize they don’t feel anything romantic for each other, Maxwell searches for Wes. Wes is back in France, he was having trouble to make a living after his room was sold during his absence, he had to find another job that is not a street performer, Warly helped him to get a job in the restaurant he works on, but he didn't have much luck due to his speech impediment. Wes was miserable, poor, and heartbroken. Maxwell knocks on his door one day, and they have a chat (mostly Maxwell does the talk, duh), and they make amends, and go back to being in a relationship after they accept they really love each other, and that they want their relationship to be more than an emotional-dependent mess. Maxwell brings Wes to live with him and his brother, but he decides it's best to move out with Wes and get their own home, since his presence was making Wendy feel bad (despite their collaboration in the Constant, Wendy can't help but to feel a bit of a grudge against him).

That's it for all, I think I'm not forgetting anyone, sorry if I forget your fav! And sorry for having too vague stories about Woodie, Wolfgang and Walter, they are characters who don't have their lore explored too much and they are characters I barely play as, despite the fact I like their characters very much, so I had a bit of trouble elaboraring stuff for them. There's also a few things I have to decided about Wilson's career, but I'm keeping the fact that he adopts WX and Wormwood LOL

[drvscarlett]

FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER

Esteban Ocon x childhood bestfriend!reader

Summary: Esteban has been pining over his bestfriend for the longest time. How long will it take her to see that what she's looking for is right in front of her?

The Tortured Drivers' Department series

A/N: And the first person that I'll be crossing off the list is Estie bestie. I think he is probably one of the drivers that gives me the wholesome aura. Let me know what you think or if you wanna be added to the taglist.

Taglist. @tea-bobba @boiohboii @c-losur3 @haikyuen @stelena-klayley @stinkyjax @0710khj @jinimon-tr

Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you. Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to.

02-13-2002

Dear Diary,

Today I met my first ami (ami is friend in french) and he is Esteban something long name Okon. He is so nice to me. He said hi and helped me swing on the swing sets. I hope I meet more ami like Esteban but he is my favoriteeeee!!!

-y/n.

6 years old Esteban was actually running away from class when he stumbled upon a girl swinging alone at the park's swing set. He frowns because he noticed that every kid at the park have someone to play with but she has no one. Esteban was in an internal battle to just leave it alone but he can't help but feel bad for her.

He walked to the girl and he sat next to the empty swing next to her.

Y/N looked at the stranger that just joined her. Her interest was piqued because no one wants to be around her. She blamed it in her inability to speak French so she was hesitant to scare off the potential play mate.

"I'm Esteban, you are new?" Esteban started.

Esteban's english was not perfect especially with a strong French accent but he can hold a good conversation. He can see how the excited grin appeared in her face.

"Y/N! You speak good, can we be friends?" she asked.

She extends her hands to the boy and Esteban shakes it.

"Mon ami"Esteban agrees.

There was a visible confusion in her face. Esteban mentally slaps himself as he forgot that she cannot speak french.

"It mean friends"he added.

"Mon ami Esteban" it rolls right in her tongue.

And although there was a great language barrier, they managed to stay there at the swing sets till it was time to go home for dinner. Their antics and their grand hand gestures helped them communicate with each other.

11-28-2002

Dear Diary,

I told Estie that I will be missing thanksgiving a lot because I don't live in US. His mom and dad cooked, we had our own version of thanksgiving. I'm so grateful to my mon ami, Estie.

-y/n

Usually, Esteban's afterschool routine was drop his bags and leave the house to meet up with his bestfriend, Y/N. They would go sit at the swing set for hours or maybe watch the television at Y/N's house. It was a routine that Mrs. Ocon has been familiar with ever since Y/N came into the picture.

"Maman, can I talk to you about something"

Esteban made a beeline to his mother as soon as he gets home this afternoon.

"Did you have any troubles in school?" Mrs. Ocon wondered.

"Not at all Maman" Esteban answers "I just need help with something Maman about Y/N"

Mrs. Ocon tried to hide the smile in her face as he mutters a soft "oh". Meanwhile, Esteban reached out a piece of paper from his bag.

"Maman I drew this at school, this is a tradition that Y/N misses in America"Esteban explains.

The paper was filled with drawings of stick figures sitting in a table. The table was filled with dishes messily drawn in a muddle of green, brown, and orange.

Mrs. Ocon looks at her son with confusion, she still didn't know what he needs help in.

"What are you trying to say Esteban?"she asked

"This 28 is the thanksgiving dinner and Y/N says that her parents will be busy. She told me its just like a normal dinner but you say thank you for everything you are grateful about"Esteban elaborates "Can we do that Maman and can we invite Y/N to join us"

"That's a wonderful gesture to do for your friend Esteban" Mrs Ocon coos.

Esteban breaks out into a grin with the agreement of his mother.

"But you will be helping me prepare the dishes okay?" Mrs. Ocon added

"Of course Maman, I'll do anything"

Esteban gives his Mother a tight hug. He was extremely grateful because he knows how much Y/N has been missing so many american things lately. He was just scared that she'll leave France and then go back to America then he will never see her again.

On the other hand, Mrs. Ocon can call it mother instincts but she called it from this moment that her son is in love with his bestfriend.

05-17-2005

Dear Diary,

I like reading a lot while my bestfriend Estie loves riding the small karts. I like going to school, Estie doesn't like that. It seems like were different with each other. I'm scared of losing my bestfriend, what should i do?

But I'll support him. I want him to be happy. Thats what bestfriends do.

-y/n

"I wanna be a race car driver"Esteban blurts out one time that they were watching those Formula 1 races on the television.

Y/N started laughing because she thought it was a joke but when she looked at him, his eyes were looking at the race cars with so much determination.

"Wait, you are serious?"

"Can't you picture me driving those cars? It's like being wind woosh" Esteban mimicked the movement of the cars.

"But its like dangerous, you could crash" Y/N argues.

They have seen some serious crashes in the times that they watched F1. Y/N couldn't forget that dogpile crash in Monaco just a few weeks ago, her heart nearly stopped when the car hits a marshal cleaning up debris.

"Then I'm going to train to be a good driver so I don't crash" Esteban confidently states.

"But what about school?"Y/N asked "You're not seriously leaving me there"

"Woah, I said I wanna be a race car driver"Esteban clarifies "I didn't say anything about leaving you. You are mon ami"

"But school Estie?"Y/N repeats

Both of them knows that Esteban never found a knack for the academics, his favorite class was physical education. As much as Y/N tries to encourage him to study, he didn't like to do that a lot. Esteban always said that the braincells of Y/N will be enough for them to share and to get through life.

"I really wanna be a race car driver"Esteban insisted.

Y/N knew Esteban very well that if he sets his mind to it then he is bound to do it. There is nothing else she can do but support it.

"Esteban Ocon, a grand prix winner" Y/N shows her encouragement "I could picture it the crowd goes roar and you step onto those podiums holding those big trophies"

Esteban grins at her enthusiasm.

"And then I could take you with me to watch them when you finish school"Esteban added "We could travel the world together when I become a driver"

"Esteban wait so if you do become a race driver then maybe I can meet Kimi"Y/N wondered.

"Wow you only want me to go to F1 for Kimi huh"

"Well its a good opportunity to meet the man, the myth, the legend"

06-16-2006

Dear Diary,

I'm just really really sad today. Estie will be moving far away from here. Maybe I only get to see him on the weekends. I'll miss my bestfriend, mon ami

-y/n

They were at the swing sets when Esteban broke the news that he was accepted to compete for karting competitions. Y/N was immediately ecstatic to hear this but there was a frown gracing Esteban's face.

"You just told me that you are gonna compete for go karting but why do you look so sad" Y/N inquires "Isn't this like the first step in being an F1 driver?"

It is but Esteban hadn't predicted how costly this whole thing will be and how sacrifices have to be made in order to reach his dreams.

"We have to leave the house"Esteban breaks the news.

"Leave?"Y/N was confused "I mean don't you really have to leave the house to go to the go karting place..but you'll come back right?"

He shakes his head and Y/N could feel the reason for the sad looks on his face. Her heart feels like cracking especially when Esteban starts to speak again.

"They sold the house to get me a kart" Esteban's voice was filled with so much sadness "They knew it was my dream and the whole family sees a lot of potential that I can do it. I just feel terrible that they have to make sacrifices to make my dreams come true"

They were merely ten years old but it was a lot of burden to carry and to understand. Y/N is at loss for words but she just grabbed Esteban's hands.

"Then you have to give your all and be the best race driver ever okay?"Y/N reminded him

Esteban looked at Y/N and there were stray tears leaving her eyes but she has a brave face on and an encouraging smile. He was lucky to have a family that believes in him and he was even more luckier because he gets to have another supporter in the form of his bestfriend.

"You make a lot of money so you can buy your home again and you can treat your parents out"Y/N says "You have to do well okay, we all believe in you Estie"

And its these words that kept repeating on Esteban's mind whenever he is on track.

11-23-2012

Dear Diary,

It's my birthday today. Did you believe that Estie waited till it turned midnight here in France just to call me. My bestfriend be setting up the standards for everyone. I got a cake in the morning from my classmates and then we went to have dinner. Sixteen, im getting old now.

-y/n

Esteban and Y/N had a tradition since they were kids that they will wait for each other's birthday because they wanted to be the first person to greet each other.

The minute that the clock strikes 12, Y/N's phone starts vibrating. She had a grin on her face upon seeing the name on the caller ID.

"Well hello there Mr. Lightning McQueen"Y/N greeted.

"Happiest birthday to my sweetest mon ami"Esteban cheered on the other line "You know that I wish you all the best things in life and all of happiness that life has to offer"

"I'm surprised you had time to call, don't you have to wake up early later for your race?" Y/N questioned.

It was true, they don't get to talk as much whenever Esteban was in a competition season. Y/N doesn't mind it that much because Esteban will message whenever he can.

"I wouldn't miss my favorite person's day" Esteban answers.

His remarks made Y/N blush. It was a good thing that this is just a phone call conversation or she had some explaining to do.

"That makes me miss you way way more Estie"Y/N sighs "I hope I can see you again"

"Is that your birthday wish?" Esteban jokes

"My birthday wish is an F1 seat for you" Y/N declares.

"Hey, stop wishing about me. It's your day wish for YOUR day" Esteban argues.

"Then I wish for my bestfriend to get an F1 seat so I can meet Kimi"Y/N rephrases.

They spent a good time talking to each other. Y/N updates Esteban about those girls in her class that she wants to be friends with and how difficult physics assignments are. Esteban mentions about the trainings and the different race drivers that he met on track.

Esteban knows that he might probably regret staying up late but everything always seems worth it when it comes to Y/N.

"Well its really nice catching up to you but school starts at 7 tomorrow"Y/N yawns a bit "You must be pretty tired as well with all the training"

"Don't you worry about me here, I'm doing okay"

"You are the best Estie" Y/N said "Goodnight estie, love you"

Love. That's the word that Esteban has been pondering about a lot lately. It was that stage of life that people are getting girlfriends and boyfriends because they love that person. The only person that Esteban thinks he can love and be in a relationship with is Y/N.

First he thought, maybe its because Y/N's a close friends. Many people get the lines blurred between friendship and relationship. However, Esteban is beginning to realize that he likes Y/N more than a friend.

But, Esteban was scared of scaring her off or losing her so he settles with this.

"Good night Y/N, love you more"

01-01-2017

Dear Diary,

So Esteban and I went to our first party because Esteban finally had a permanent team for the upcoming 2017 season. We had a few drinks to celebrate and I met a boy. His name is Vincent. I think we hit it off pretty well.

-y/n

Esteban has this all night planned with him announcing that he is getting a permanent seat in Formula 1 to inviting her to the races to confessing his feelings and then hopefully get a New Year Eve's kiss.

However, here he is in the bathroom chickening out with his plans.

"C'mon Esteban, you can do this" he preps himself.

In his mind, he had everything written and prepared. He will start talking about the childhood how he was so glad to meet her and to her being the number 1 fan since day 1. Then he will move to his realizations and such when he was moving up to F1.

"Just say what you feel and be true. It's gonna work out"Esteban tells his reflection to the mirror.

With one spray of water to the face, Esteban exits the bathroom to find Y/N in the sea of crowd.

He searches for her and he was glad to see that she was still at the same place where he left her. However, his face scrunches up because there was another guy around her.

"Estieee!"Y/N calls out "I want you to meet Vincent, he is my new friend"

Esteban eyes the man because he didn't even look at him. Vincent's eyes were only looking at Y/N's and Esteban could feel his heart drop. He knows that look all too well because that is how he looks at her.

There goes his chance.

12-25-2017

Dear Diary,

This is my first christmas with Vincent as my boyfriend. Were still getting used with the presents thing and I think I overwhelmed him a bit. But I think that its going well, Mom loves Vincent. Dad and Esteban doesn't seem to think that Vincent is good for me.

-y/n

"Okay, time to open christmas presents!" Y/N excitedly announce.

Everyone gathers at the Christmas tree. It was a yearly tradition in the household that after lunch they go one-by-one in opening the gifts. Y/N always loved presents so she would always go first.

"Merry Christmas darling"Vincent says as he gives his present.

Esteban manages to keep his expression straight but he would have gagged if he could. He was filled with so much jealousy that he could have been in that position right now if he didn't chicken out.

Also, there was something so irritating and wrong about Vincent. He just don't have any proof about it. Mr. Y/L/N has a similar theory which he discussed with Esteban when they were in the garage earlier.

Y/N opens the box and she saw a gold chain with the letter V. It was a very beautiful necklace and it seems expensive as well. She musters up a smile as she thanks her boyfriend.

"This is beautiful Vincent" Y/N admires as she takes it off the box.

"I know."Vincent agrees "When I saw it in the store, I immediately thought of you"

The thoughts were sweet but Esteban couldn't help himself.

"Mate"Esteban calls "Y/N doesn't wear gold"

It was the truth that Y/N never wore any gold jewelry but since it was a gift, she was putting on a smile. Esteban knows that Y/N is just being appreciative to be respectful. Frankly, he was a bit pissed off that Vincent didn't even pay attention to that simple details of Y/N.

"Oh, I didn't know that"Vincent sheepishly grins "I didn't notice that, maybe I should take it b-"

"No, no. I'll wear it, its the thought that counts"Y/N settles.

"Next year, I'll get you a better gift" Vincent assures.

Mr. Y/L/N and Esteban could only share an eye roll, they really hope that they don't get to see Vincent next year around.

06-26-2018

Dear Diary,

Today is emotionally draining and I find it hard to sleep with a lots of thoughts in my head. It feels really different to see Estie in an F1 car. I simply can't believe it that he went to watching race cars to driving one. It sucks about whats about to happen but I am so proud of my bestfriend, mon ami Estie. I will always be proud of him no matter what.

-y/n

One of the worst things that could probably happen is to not finish a race but the feeling intensifies when it happened on your home race. Esteban wanted to kick himself for his misfortune. He didn't even get a lap in when Gasly collided him thus ending their races.

"Stupid" Esteban repeats the video all over again.

The door gently opens and Esteban would have shouted to leave him alone but Y/N peeked out of the door. It was like instant moment of peace for Esteban then its back to feeling like a failure because he suddenly remembered that everyone he loves have watched him DNF live.

"Estie, they told me you were here"Y/N greeted "You wanna talk?"

"I rather not" Esteban quickly answered.

"Hey, its just one bad weekend Estie"Y/N sits next to him.

"This is that one weekend that should have been a good weekend. Everyone is watching me and I didn't even start a lap before getting fucked"

The crack in Esteban's voice signifies that it was extremely heartbreaking for him to have this performance for his home race. Y/N could only tap his shoulder for comfort.

"Estie, you will have a lot of weekends ahead of you and you still have a lot more weekends that we will be watching. Don't be too hard on yourself" Y/N comforts "You can bounce back like you always do"

"You believe in me way too much"

"You already came a long way Estie. From sitting and watching them race every Sunday to actually driving a car. You should be proud of yourself" Y/N reminds.

There was something else painful in Esteban's heart. The recent issues regarding the team doesn't guarantee him for a seat in the coming year. It was another reason why he felt so down with what happened.

"Would you still be proud of me even if I don't have an F1 seat?" Esteban asked.

"What? What happened Estie?" Y/N was shocked.

"I might not have a team to drive for next year. I don't know if anyone is going to pick me with my DNFs and everything, I'm not a good candidate"

Esteban sheds the tears he has been trying to hide. He knew that this was a safe place to talk to Y/N. Everything just felt so heavy.

"Oh my god Estie, I'm sorry"Y/N consoles her bestfriend.

The two bestfriend knew how much this Formula 1 seat meant. It was a lot of struggles and sacrifice to reach this moment. One moment they were just kids going on karting season and now Esteban was getting his F1 seat. Now its being taken away, its like waking up from a good dream.

Y/N brushes away her tears and started to pace as if devising a plan.

"Don't you dare think that just because you are not getting a team next year is that you are a bad driver. You are a great driver okay,remember that." Y/N encourages "Take the year off. Improve your skills, get better then make a comeback"

If Y/N believes that he can make a comeback then Esteban believes that as well.

02-03-2019

Dear Diary,

I had a fight with Vincent. He told me that I am spending too much time with Esteban. He wanted me to stay away from Estie like who is he to tell me what to do.

I told him to be more patient with Estie because he really needs support right now. I hate how stupid and irrational Vincent is.

-y/n

Esteban was just picking up one of his cousin at the club when he saw a familiar figure at the alley. He just wanted to say hi to Vincent but when he noticed that he was holding hands with a girl, who is definitely not Y/N, Esteban started to follow.

He watched as how Vincent pulled the girl into a kiss and all Esteban could see was red.

"OHMYGOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"The girl shouts.

Esteban lands a solid punch. He doesn't care if Vincent is drunk or whatever but he should never cheat especially on a woman as amazing as Y/N.

"I tried to give you a chance, you fucking ruined it"Esteban lands another punch at Vincent.

"What the fuck man, get off!"Vincent screams.

The fact that Esteban was willing to let go and watch Y/N be happy with Vincent. He was willing to do that because Vincent makes Y/N happy but seeing this. Its not gonna happen anymore.

Two bouncers of the club broke them off. The girl immediately tended to the beaten up Vincent, Esteban dust himself off as he sets out a threat.

"You better come clean and tell her the truth or else I fucking will" Esteban warns.

"FUCK YOU MAN" Vincent shouts back "I know you like her! I know you are just waiting for an opportunity to ruin us"

"I'm not the one who ruined the fucking relationship Vincent, it was you who fucking cheated on Y/N"

Esteban was seething as he returned to the car. His mind thumbs to call Y/N but he knows that it will break Y/N's heart terribly if he tells her the truth.

09-28-2019

Dear Diary,

I hate this feeling of being ina fight with Esteban. He said some things that aren't true and I said some things that must have hurt him a lot. I don't think we will be okay any time soon. I just wish I could have turned back time to talk about the whole thing more carefully.

-y/n

There are not many things that Esteban and Y/N disagrees with each other. It was quite rare to see them fight each other because they fit perfectly just like that. Usually, their fights are just simple misunderstandings and harmless that they will make up in a day or so.

This time its different.

Everything started when Y/N explained that she'll be moving to Vincent's apartment, something that triggered Esteban greatly. It was apparent that Y/N had no idea of what happened at the club so Esteban told the whole truth.

Y/N is in complete denial and called Esteban a liar. So here they are with their raised tones.

"If you are my fucking friend then you would have told me the minute you saw it" Y/N explained "Why didn't you fucking call"

"I was protecting you. I know it would hurt you to know the truth and I told Vincent that he has to be the one to come clean" Esteban fights back.

"Protecting me with a grand lie?"

"I thought you don't fucking believe me that Vincent is cheating" Esteban frustrated with the argument.

"I don't know who to fucking believe because you would have told me right away if its real" Y/N cried.

The emotions were all too high, they were a ticking time bomb ready to explode. Esteban could not hide the disappointment in his face that Y/N didn't believe him.

"You don't trust me" Esteban realized.

"No Esteban, its not like-"

"Then what is it like?" Esteban asked "It seems as if you totally forgot that it was me who you could always trust no matter what. You forgot that I was your bestfriend since the beginning that was always there."

Y/N didn't want to get all the blame so she strikes back again even though tears were threatening to fall.

"You know its very fucking ironic that you say that" Y/N's words were like bullets "You didn't fucking trust me to believe you either that's why you didn't call"

Esteban was speechless and then he shakes his head.

"Where are you going?"Y/N chases after.

"I'm going home, away from you"

"Fine. Don't fucking come back" Y/N slams the door.

There were a lot of things said and done. They both don't know how they regretted everything.

03-29-2020

Dear Diary,

This whole lockdown is a little bit fucked. I was cleaning up some files in my computer and I saw a photo of me and Estie. I wonder if he is still mad at me and I wonder how he is doing with lockdowns. I wanted to reach out to him but I can't help but think back how much I must have hurt him before.

Vincent is a bit stressed with the whole lockdown situation. He gets frustrated easily especially with the new work set-up. I'm sure he will get better at handling his emotions, I just have to understand this for the moment.

-y/n

Esteban was scrolling through his instagram feed. He had nothing much to do since the lockdown kept everyone inside their homes. There was this feeling of uncertainty when can they race again but Esteban could only hope that they can race again even by May or June.

His hands stopped when he saw the newest instagram post of Y/N. It was a photo of her cooking a dish and the next set of photos showcases more of her lockdown diaries.

There was a bitter smile gracing on Esteban's face when he saw the photo of Vincent. It seems as if Vincent hasn't told the truth yet or maybe he lied to Y/N that's why they are still together. Esteban feels like he could punch the guy if he ever sees him again.

Not a day goes by that he regrets that fight he had with Y/N. It was just utterly pointless that it happened and he misses her. He hopes that she is okay and maybe after this whole lockdown is over then he'll go and find her again.

With heavy sighs, he scrolls past the post without liking it.

08-01-2021

Dear Diary,

Esteban is a grand prix winner. I'm really so proud of him, I shed some tears when he reach the final lap. I don't know if its the emotions or the adrenaline but I also messaged him and I was surprised that he answered. It seems like this is a start of a good thing.

-y/n

There were no words to describe how amazing the feeling was to be on top of the podium. Esteban could only imagine that feeling before but now he is living it. Everything felt like a wild dream because when he started the race he didn't even know that he will end up being a race winner after.

Collapsing to his bed, he finally opens his phone and it was immediately buzzing with so many messages. There was one message conversation that catches his attention

Y/N: Hi Esteban! I hope this is still your number. I watched the race today and I'm really so proud of you. I want to waive a white flag because this is everything that you have dreamed of all these years. There are no words to describe how proud I am of you. You have come a long way from that kid by the swing set. You will always have my support (even if we have a cold war). Y/N: I'm also sorry. I said some things that was really not good for me to say. I'm sorry I'm doing this over a text and I'm sorry that it took me this long. Y/N: I hope you are okay. You better drink up some champagne, you deserve it Grand Prix Winner.

There was this warmth that seems to envelope him as he reads the messages. It feels nice to know that she stills supports him even though they are not talking.

Esteban catches himself smiling through his phone screen confirming that his feelings for her still exist.

"Oh fuck it, this feeling never goes away doesn't it"

01-02-2022

Dear Diary,

Vincent proposed to me today in front of a crowd today. Mentally I wanted to say no because I don't think that I am ready for it or maybe its just the fact that I'm not sure that Vincent is ready for it. I just said yes because there was a large group of people. I felt like I was put on the spot and I didn't like it.

Maybe, its just the nerves.

-y/n

Mrs. Ocon had been keeping tabs with Mrs. Y/L/N even when the two had stopped talking to each other. They often update with each others lives when they get their nails done. Today, Mrs. Ocon couldn't believe the news shared to her so she hurried downstairs to find Esteban.

"Is it true Esteban?" Mrs. Ocon asked

"What's true maman?"

Esteban has just finished doing simulations so he have not been with his phone for quite some time. His mother immediately shoved her phone to his hand. Esteban squints as she watched the video of someone getting proposed at the Eiffel Tower.

"Maman, I'm not getting married anytime soon"Esteban jokes.

He has been pestered multiple times about getting married or getting a girlfriend but Esteban didn't want any of those. Nothing could compare to Y/N so he would rather not date anyone else.

"Just look more closely"Mrs Ocon insisted.

Scrunching up his nose, Esteban finally noticed the familiar faces of the couple. And it feels like a deja vu from his experience so many years ago when he almost confessed for New Years Eve.

Only this time, the pain has been magnified.

"That's good for Y/N, I'm.."Esteban holds his breath "happy for her"

"Honey...It's okay to not feel happy.."

Mrs Ocon has been one of the witness of everything and she knows how much her son loves Y/N. She extended a hug and soon the tall French man just let all his tears fall.

01-09-2023

Dear Diary,

I called it off, Vincent cheated on me and there was another girl on the side. He got her pregnant. I felt so stupid because I have been ignoring so many red flags all these years, I should have known better. I don't know what to fucking do, I hate him so much.

"What the fuck is wrong with me"

Y/N was a mess and anyone else who have been confronted with the reality that they have been in a fucked up relationship for so long will be a complete mess.

"There is nothing wrong with you Y/N" Esteban repeated "It was not your fault that he cheated"

"I was so stupid Estie, I wasted so many years for him"

This has been an ongoing process for a while now. Its been a good two weeks since they broke up but Y/N was still stuck in a period of asking questions and crying.

"I want my fucking life back and I can't get it back"Y/N laments.

Esteban doesn't know what he could do to help but he just became the shoulder that she can lean on. It was a good thing that there weren't much to do yet, he can still be with Y/N for a while.

"You know on the brighter side of life, you are still lucky that you didn't marry him" Esteban suggested "Like imagine all the divorce and process you have to go through if you did marry him"

"I might have ugly children if I married Vincent" Y/N scoffs.

"He is not your problem anymore Y/N, just ignore him"Esteban encourages.

Y/N lets out a frustrated cry as she messes up her hair again.

"I can't just fucking ignore him. He have been with me for a good period of my life and people just expect me to move on and go on with my life. I lost so many things about myself that I don't even trust myself after him"

Tears started falling from her eyes. She wipes them up as Esteban guided her to a chair.

"I'm sorry Y/N, here lets take a seat and I'll get you water" Esteban said before leaving to go to the kitchen.

There was something so nice to have Esteban around. Even if she shouts or screams like that, Esteban is still patient and kind with her. He was not rushing her to move past what she feels, he allows her to speak.

"You know, I can survive on my own" Y/N mutters.

"I know"Esteban agrees as he handed her the water "But I wanted to be here for you. You have always been there for me when I'm at my lowest of lows, I wanna be there for you now"

It was rare to see Y/N's smiles nowadays but with Esteban saying stuffs like that, she can't help but smile. She was very grateful to have Esteban around. She didn't know how she could survive without Esteban's help.

"Thanks estie

02-18-2023

Dear Diary,

Is it too soon to open up my heart again? I really want to try but I am scared. Maybe this is what happens when you've been in a shitty relationship for so long.

I also know that I dont wanna mess up things. If I do mess up things, I'm not going to just miss someone but I'll miss that boy I met at the swingset.

Maybe this year can do me good.

-y/n

"Esteban for a driver, you are pretty slow driving normal cars"Y/N teased.

"I have to be careful, accidents always happen and I don't wanna injure you before a flight" Esteban argues.

Esteban unloads all their bags. The two of them are going abroad however they are going to different countries. Y/N is going back to her old American home and she might be there for a while. On the other hand, Esteban is going to Bahrain for the pre-testing.

"You sure you have everything?" Esteban asked "Passports? Tickets? chargers?"

"Hey Mr. I forgot my passport, dont lecture me about forgetting things"Y/N smirked.

"Just double check and don't be like me then"

For onlookers they look like a couple about to travel together. How Esteban wishes that was the case but they are just a couple of bestfriends.

"Gonna miss you mon ami"Y/N hugs Esteban "I think I see my gate over there, call me okay"

"Of course I will"Esteban assures.

Y/N was already walking a decent few meters away when Esteban started to debate if he should tell her now. It seems spontaneous but this is a now or never situation.

"Wait up Y/N!"

"Did you forget something?"she teased

She turned her head and found Esteban catching up to her. There were beads of sweat on his forehead and Y/N could tell that Esteban was a bit nervous about something.

"Actually there is something I wanna tell you" Esteban starts.

"Oh what about it?"

She tilts her head in curiosity as Esteban takes in a large deep breath.

"I never forgot my passport. I was just using it as an excuse so I can spend more time with you. I didn't wanna go away from you because I miss you and I love you"Esteban declares.

"Aww Estie, you know I love you too-"

"No, Y/N its not that kind of love"Esteban clarifies "I love you as in I love you in a non-platonic way. I love you in a way that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you in a way that I'll do everything so that I'm always coming home to you"

There was silence between the two of them. Esteban was looking for any signs of disgust or rejection in Y/N's eyes but so far those emotions doesn't seem to appear. He feels brave enough to continue further.

"Look, I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend. I know you need time to heal from whatever happened to you. I won't rush you. I have waited since were little kids, this is nothing compared to that. Allow yourself to heal and be yourself. Explore the world. Then if you want me, I'm just here waiting for you"

Esteban's word was filled with so much love and adoration. It was the respect that Y/N needed for having suffer a bad relationship. How could she be so blind not to see what's in front of her all along.

Y/N leans to hug him.

"I won't answer this for now, wait for me to be healed okay?"she whispers.

"Of course Y/N, always waiting for you."

05-01-2024

Dear Diary,

Almost a year and so since my last entry.

I have visited a lot of places to find myself and to heal myself. It was a beautiful journey going to foreign places and trying new things. Actually gave me a new perspective in life that makes me confidently say that I am healed. Some things take a lot of time before we tend to appreciate it.

I have someone waiting for me for almost 22 years already. I'm finally going home to him.

-y/n

[themareverine]

MARE & THE WOLVERINE ▹ MASTERLIST

─ Logan Howlett x fem!OC

summary: The Northern Territories were the last place Mare McAffery ever imagined herself, much less a prize fighting bar with characters the likes of the one they call the Wolverine. A logging community and living out of a Motel 6—it wasn’t exactly Shakespearean. But sometimes, survival calls for a tooth and nail fight—even for a preacher’s daughter.

warnings: AU, age gap, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, eventual romance, violence, angst, trauma, religion, self-insert, self-esteem issues, chance meetings, alcohol, grief/morning, mutual pining, falling in love, slow-ish burn, fluff and angst, canon-typical violence, virginity, reposted from my old account.

MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION | NEXT

PROLOGUE

“—don’t touch me, Logan!” 

Shoving his hand off her arm may as well have been shaking off the weight of the sun. To his credit, his hand lifted away at just the moment she spun away, chest heaving as the burn for oxygen seemed to almost bleed from between her ribs. Tripping over her own feet she stumbled against the rear fender of her Jeep, grounded by the steel. Cool to the average touch, but inferno fire to her flaming skin. 

“Listen, kid, I–” reaching for her again, his eyes are hard. Deep. Pleading as his hand extends to her, bridges the gap hanging between them like an endless abyss. It would take a lifetime for him to cross it, she knew—a lifetime he couldn’t give. Wouldn’t.  

“Don’t call me that, Logan—I am not a child. I am not one of Charles’ students you get to lecture, to correct,” her voice cracks under the effort of containing a sob, but tears were a giveaway long before the rage in her voice. Betrayal—it bites like a whip. “I’m not on your damn grading curve, Logan!” 

“I don't—”

“Shut the hell up!” 

A single finger flung his direction pulls him up, to a stop. Brows raise in surprise, at her language no doubt. Akimbo, his chin levels with the floor. Hands find his pockets, lost for a moment as they sink low into the leathers. A six foot frame always meant he was peering down at her, but it was more than that—Logan had been looking down his nose at her from the first moments, the heartbeat of their relationship. From the jump, the gap between them had always been galactically broad—two surviving suns, revolving around the other. Fighting for gravity. For purchase. For life. 

Charles had only made it worse. 

“Mare,” he hesitates, she can almost feel him breathe. “You’re gonna regret leavin’ things like this, bub.” 

Her name, soft and considerate from his lips like it never had been—it…it makes it worse. Slap of reality that cuts like a knife. The sting of what wasn’t, couldn’t ever be. Churning like a tidal wave in the base of her gut, it simmers low. Systolic in her chest, it spikes up to kiss the base of her ribs only when he takes half a step forward to her. 

An effort to meet her halfway—halfway to somewhere. Halfway to anywhere that wasn’t here. 

“There’s a lot of things I regret.” 

Heart ricocheting off the bones in her chest, her eyes moved beyond him—beyond him, the mansion. Xavier. Jean, Scott, Hank, all of them. Beyond them, to the darkness; midnight abyss that seemed to spin in and out of itself in a way that sent shivers down her spine. The river of sweat racing down her spine was cold, raising gooseflesh to her skin even beneath her jacket. Jeans and boots—see-ya-later, hit-the-road clothes.

Ironically enough, the same ones she’d arrived at the mansion wearing. 

Turning to throw her purse over the side of the open-air Jeep door, it hits the seat with a muffled thud as she all but rips the door open. Eyes not moving from him, she takes his frame in, head to toe. Toe to head and back again—and he looks so good, standing in the growing darkness. Under stars cut in the sky, maybe just for her. This moment. Maybe just for right now, to lock this in the vault of her memories she know she won’t be able to shake here to eternity. 

Heel of her boot grinding into the gravel of the drive, she hesitates. Hand on the frame of the Wrangler, they curl around the cool steel, already slick with evening dew. It cuts right to the bones in her hand, the ache in her joints that burns like volcanic poison. Waiting to explode, to corrode the rest of her time had all but forgotten. Gnawing at the inside of her cheek, she swears to God any moment she’ll taste the spring of copper on her tongue, the blood she wills into her own mouth with every inhalation of life-preserving oxygen. 

Pushing her weight off the frame of the Jeep, she turns to face him. Shoulders back, chin squared. Breathing hard, breathing slow—any kind of breathing to keep her two feet under her on earthquake sands. The lump forming in the back of her throat threatens to throttle the steel will dropping into her spine like an eye beam, and before she can even recalculate, think it through—she’s crossing the night between them. Grabbing the front of his flannel shirt, she’ll never forget how the brush of her fingers against the peek of hair on his chest feels for all the rest of her living nights. 

Kissing him—quickly, roughly, hard—has never felt so wrong. Or so right. It solidifies every thing. Shatters every other. Unable to think straight, unable to breathe beyond the taste of him, she releases. Let's go when that thing that everyone talks about—when he breaks, when that every-so-little shift of his jaw—tells her, for the first time, that he’s hungry. Hungry for this, for her—

—for what can’t be. 

The arch of his hand from the corner of her eye is possessive, wanting—she ducks, backstepping away before he can reach her. She’s already flicking the keys of the Jeep forward, feet planted on the brake and clutch, when he comes to a stop at her door, hands on the frame. 

Her name from him, a second time. “Stay.” Stay, stay, stay. 

I can’t, Logan. "No."

It’s painful between the mesh of her ribs, the one she’s missing. The one that belongs to him, had belonged to him since the beginning. God’s design.

Damn him for being so stubborn, so—Logan. 

“I’ll see you around, Logan. Take care of yourself.” 

He won’t.

And, a faraway part of her knows that. Another part wills that it won’t be–can’t be–her problem anymore. She has to stop caring about him, about his life. Where he goes and what he does, whom he decides to love and where he decides to stay. 

She has to stop loving the Wolverine. 

contents ▹ good poison

tags: @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @fandomxo00

[iamthat-iam]

Everything is meaningless? 👁️

Bianca is a 21 year old college grad with a bachelor's degree in Fashion Merchandising, and a 4.0 GPA! She's very excited to use her degree, whether that's through designing clothes, being a stylist or opening her own store! Even though she graduated, she still comes back to campus to support her friends in different events.

During her time in college, Bianca joined a sorority, one where their main focus is community service. She truly felt as if she will make a difference in the world.

But that all changed one night, when her friends invited her out to attend a 'spiritual meetup' on campus. The teacher seemed to teach nihilistic ideas, saying nothing matters and has no real meaning. Something that stuck out to Bianca was this statement: "You were never really a person. Your past, everything about your life is only a dream."

This triggered something in Bianca, a strong feeling of dread. All of the work she put into her life was all for nothing? It's meaningless? Bianca came up with an excuse to leave the meeting early, but in reality, she was too overwhelmed to listen to any more of the teacher's message.

The next day, she reached out to a friend. She barely got any sleep the night prior, because of the teacher's words echoing through her mind. The friend suggested to reach out to this teacher directly, and schedule a 1 on 1 meeting with him to address her issues.

- -

Bianca waited at the campus coffee shop for the teacher to arrive. She was unable to contain her nervousness, the caffeine didn't help. After about 5 minutes of waiting, the teacher arrived. "Hello there! Are you Bianca? Nice to meet you! You can call me Hunter," He reached out to shake Bianca's hand, and sat down in front of her.

"Nice to meet you," Bianca tried her best to smile. "I just had a few questions about your teachings from yesterday. What exactly did you mean when you said 'you were never really a person, and your past was just a dream'? And 'nothing has meaning'? Does this mean everything I've gone through in life was for nothing? I worked very hard for my GPA, I worked very hard to graduate, and the work my sorority does for the community means a lot to me."

"I understand your concern, I see how those statements can come across as if I'm discrediting all your hard work," Hunter smiled warmly. "However, that's not what I meant. You just told me that the work your sorority does means a lot to you, right? You are the one who gives that meaning. When I say you, I'm referring to awareness, god, THAT, or " ."

"Okay, so that's what you meant when you said 'we were never people.' Bianca raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Hunter confirmed. "What I meant was nothing has meaning outside of what you assign to it. All labels only exist because of you, but you are beyond all labels. You are even beyond the labels awareness or god. You are the ultimate authority. The statements 'my hard work in college means something' vs 'my hard work in college means nothing' are two statements that have no truth outside of you accepting one of them as true. There's nothing wrong with being proud of your accomplishments and enjoying your passions. You are what makes them special."

Bianca felt a weight lifted off her shoulders, and let out a sigh of relief. "Okay. Thank you so much for clarifying. I was going through an existential crisis last night!"

"I'm glad I could clear things up for you," Hunter chuckled. "Consider me a friend. Feel free to reach out to me anytime if you need advice. Or you just want to talk. Whichever works for you."

"I appreciate that," Bianca smiled.

Bianca was empowered in a way she never experienced before. Her accomplishments mean so much more to her now that she understands she is the one that gives them life!

[ineffabildaddy]

I Know - a Crowley POV ficlet

turns out i can't stop writing stuff that isn't actually my ongoing wips lol

explicit content under the cut! (this one's sexy practically the whole way thru)

-

I know you want me, angel.

I know you want to interrupt me in the middle of a stammering sentence and lift your palm to my glowing cheek. I know you want to kiss me, gentle and fond as a fifteen year-old girl who silently watches the moon shimmer on the surface of a lake, shoulder to shoulder with the greatest friend she's ever known.

I know you want your palm to slide towards my chin so your fingers can urge my jaw downwards, my mouth opening for yours and inviting you in. I know you want to maintain that grip on my jaw while you slip a hand under my shirt, reaching not for the small of my back or the dip of my waist, but the middle of my chest.

I know you want to pull me along with you as you stand up, without stopping our kiss in the process. I know you want to back me against the wall and hold me steady with your hips. I know you want to wait until my knees buckle with need before you even allow yourself to contemplate tearing your lips from mine.

I know you want to ease each item of clothing off my body one by one, with a chasteness that stuns and confounds me. I know that afterwards, you want to sink your teeth into me so many times and in so many different places that I know I am resolutely and undoubtedly and wholly yours. I know you want to kiss each mark you leave me once you have made it as if it were a baby bird flying the nest.

I know you want to kneel before me as a poor man kneels before an extravagant, ornate altar. I know you want to part my thighs and dig your nails into the grooves of the stretch marks that decorate them, acknowledging that I grow only for you, and shrink for you just the same.

I know you want to study and examine and explore my cunt with your fingers and your tongue until my eyes roll back in my head and you are certain I am conquered.

I know you want your name to scorch my mouth as I cry out, coming not only for you but because of you for the first time. When I come once more shortly afterwards, and again, and again, I know that this time and each time thereafter, you want your name to be a soothing balm to my lips, an ice-cold remedy to my burnt tongue.

I know you want me to sprawl out on my front for you. I know you want me to shiver when your soft belly meets the curve of my back and you rest your weight on top of me, every part of your body covering mine. I know you want me like this on the bookshop floor, so I have nothing to hold onto when you finally enter me; I'll have no choice but to feel it and feel it and feel it, unadulterated, until you curl your fingers into the spaces between mine and, at long last, begin to move inside me. I know you want to use the most secretive, conspiratorial cadence when you whisper in my ear that I am everything you've ever wanted.

I know you want to fuck me so tenderly that I keen and plead and whimper for more, and then fuck me so hard and so deep that making any resounding noise at all is beyond me. I know you want your mouth to remain beside my ear so that I perceive your every panting, laboured breath with the greatest clarity. I know you want us to commune in silence this way until you begin to tell me, without ceasing to fuck me, that you, too, always knew I wanted you. I know you want to detail all the ways in which you saw right through me, and subsequently tell me how good I've been to wait for you so kindly and so patiently.

I know you want to come at the same time as me, for my final undoing to be yours as well. I know you want the thing that finally drives you over the edge to be the way my hips quiver and the way my walls clench around you. I know you want this to unravel you not only because it will feel perfect, but also because it is my way of telling you that I have finally and truly and gratefully surrendered.

I know you want me, angel. So the next time I stammer as I speak, know that it is me letting you.

-

thank you for reading! also on ao3 here:

read @ineffable-rohese's wonderful aziraphale pov response on tumblr here and on ao3 here

tagging the usual suspects: @celestialcrowley @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @sad-chaos-goblin @bowtiepastabitch @sabotage-on-mercury @iammyownproblematicfave @createserenity @sentientsky @amagnificentobsession @ineffable-rohese @quoththemaiden

feedback and reblogs are, as always, endlessly appreciated<3