#online campus hiring

[joinsuperset]

Enhance Campus Placements with Online Campus Hiring Solutions

Transform your recruitment strategy with a placement platform and campus placement automation software. Simplify your online campus drive and streamline campus placement processes through virtual placement drives and campus placement digitisation. Leverage a powerful campus recruitment website and campus placement portal to enhance efficiency and attract top talent.

[uniquejobs]

Samsung Hiring Fresher Engineering Graduates Job Interview | Sriperumbudur | Date 17th August 2023 | Spot Selection

Introduction Samsung Hiring Fresher Engineering Graduates: Samsung has Published notification for the vacancy of Graduate Engineer Trainee. The educational qualification required to apply for this Samsung is B.E .EEE / ECE Interested and eligible candidates can apply for Samsung. There is enough time to apply for any job. Read Samsung date, last date to apply, full details of vacancies…

[allthecanadianpolitics]

As of late, the Society for Palestinian Human Rights that was forcibly disaffiliated from Concordia University - in association with the Palestinian Youth Movement's Montreal chapter and the National SJP - are investigating Concordia University's use of Israeli mercenaries to attack Palestinian students and the SPHR. So far, they have identified several lead members of the company who are seasoned war criminals and have long experience illegally occupying Lebanese and Palestinian territory and terrorizing civilians. They've also identified them in footage and photos during the mercenaries' attacks of Palestinian and ally students on campus. As a result, these individuals have attempted to go into hiding online, as the independent investigation continues.

I want to make it clear that Concordia University's administration is hiring IOF mercenaries to attack Palestinian and ally students on campus, all while absolutely no mainstream news organization is investigating or trying to cover this.

This comes after 11000 of Concordia's students have voted to go on strike to demand the school cease financing arms' companies, most of whom are affiliated with the zionist state, along with 79000 other students in Montreal who voted for strikes in their schools. Concordia University is possibly the University with the highest rate of Palestinian and Lebanese students in the entire country, most of which are immigrants straight from Lebanon and Palestine. And the administration is hiring mercenaries who have a long history of terrorizing Palestinian and Lebanese civilians to attack them. It is not enough that these students left their home countries to flee Israeli terrorism, it must now follow them in Canada too. If you're not worried about this, if this doesn't bother you, you're part of the problem.

- Hussein Tagging: @newsfromstolenland, @vague-humanoid

[probablyasocialecologist]

Across the US, people speaking out on behalf of Palestinian human rights and against Israeli war crimes, apartheid policies, and settler-colonial expansion that have been unfolding over nearly eight decades are facing a wave of McCarthyite backlash directly targeting their future careers and livelihoods. Students at other prominent universities have faced the same: the leaders of Harvard University student groups were doxxed and smeared for signing a statement also expressing solidarity with the Palestinian people. Their names and faces were plastered on a mobile billboard truck that roamed around campus for days, and a “College Terror List” circulated online accusing them of antisemitism. Several also lost job offers. A Berkeley law professor published an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal imploring legal employers not to hire his own students and smearing them as antisemitic. [This piece was originally commissioned by an editor at The Guardian, who asked me to write about the wave of retaliation and censorship of political expression in solidarity with Palestinians that we’ve seen in the past two weeks. Amid my work as an attorney on some of the resulting cases, I carved out some time to write the following. Minutes before it was supposed to be published, the head of the opinion desk wrote me an email that they were unable to run the piece. When I called her for an explanation she had none, and blamed an unnamed higher-up. That a piece on censorship would get killed in this way—without explanation, but plainly in the interest of political suppression—is, beyond the irony of the matter, a grave indictment of the media response to this critical moment in history.]

[sofiadzzle]

Magnetic Force of a Man

smut 18+ mdni

Pairing: ceo!Jay x worker!Y/N

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, dom!Jay, impregnation, dirty talk, fingering, pussy fucking, female masturbation, age gap (4 years), exhibitionism, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 5.4k

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I cursed as I stared down at the tear in my brand new sheer pantyhose. "Run-proof my ass! "

Shaking my head in dismay, I quickly looked around the large underground parking garage, praying to God that no one could see or hear me as I hurriedly positioned myself between my front door and the driver's seat of my beige sedan, hiking my lavender pencil skirt up to my ass, and then slid the ruined pair of hose the rest of the way down my legs.

Thankfully, I packed an extra pair!

I sat down on the side of the car seat and removed my violet high heels, almost like I was pulling out the replacements, taking them from the packing and quickly began slipping my feet inside.

The voice of a man said abruptly, "Yes, that's right."

My breath caught in my throat, I paused and turned to see the source of the voice. I was stunned by what I saw and halted abruptly, my new pantyhose halfway up my legs.

He had a great appearance. He was sitting at least fifty feet away from me, yet I could still see the platinum shine of his watch as he raised his left arm to check the time. He was dressed elegantly in a navy blue suit. His shiny black low-cut hair must have reached at least five eleven" in height.

With a dark satchel clasped in his right hand, he confidently walked towards the elevator labeled "PRIVATE." His broad shoulders, confident gait, and commanding presence evoked the image of a male model seen in GQ publications. His whole demeanor was confident.

I could tell that he was chatting to someone else and not about me or my pantyhose dilemma when a blue light blinked next to his ear. He never even gave me a sidelong glance.

I eventually snapped back to reality as he slid behind one of the pillars and finished pulling on my pantyhose. I tucked my skirt in and put my stilettos back on, eager to begin my first day of training as an executive assistant for Park Industries within the enormous, imposing Park Business building. (It seems the corporation required more than one because it was so large.)

I'd never seen or heard of Jay Park, the CEO of the company, before applying for this job. Even though I had looked him up online, all the pictures I could find of him included him wearing dark sunglasses and hats, which made me think he was probably a very secretive person. It appeared that he would much rather maintain a very low profile than be in the spotlight.

Nothing could have prepared me for the day I visited the Park Building for the first time, even though I had finished an internship at a Fortune 500 corporation close to my college campus.

My first interview had been with a woman named Son Eunsaem. She'd had a highly professional appearance and a no-nonsense attitude. She hadn't smiled once during the interview.

I was surprised when I got a call back for a second interview. That was where I met the other executive assistants. Park Industries had an executive assistant for each and every department in the company, and I had applied to the marketing department.

And I started working on the actual job today. At nine o'clock, I had my official orientation meeting, and then I was meant to meet with Jay Park, the company's CEO.

On their first day of work, all new hires were required to meet with the CEO, who was said to like having face-to-face meetings with each and every one of his staff members. I'll admit that I was anxious, but I was also interested to see this billionaire's true appearance.

The thirty-story building housed the marketing department on its twenty-fifth floor. At the orientation, there was another new hire in addition to me. Ryu Hanbin was his name, and he had been employed in the software department.

At orientation, our ID cards were issued to each of us. We were granted entry to the elevators, break facilities, and exits reserved for employees only. My heart started to race inside my chest as the orientation was coming to a conclusion.

Hanbin and I were taken to a private employee elevator and showed how to use our ID cards to operate it. Jay Park's office was on the top floor, and that's where our orientation leader, a middle-aged woman named Won Chaerin, led us up.

As the elevator door opened at the pinnacle floor, we had been greeted with the aid of using a short, stout, but very neat and well-groomed bald guy with a cleanly-shaven face in a vibrant purple pantsuit.

"Welcome to Park Land,” he stated with a welcoming grin as he reached out to shake our hands. "That's what we name the pinnacle floor, right here." He appeared to laugh after each sentence he spoke. “My call is Jinyoung, however all of us right here calls me Jin.” Another laugh.

What a unusual guy, I thought.

He led us down a hallway that ended with a reception table and a small living room area. There had been high-returned black leather-based chairs and a large flat-display tv withinside the ready area. There additionally regarded to be a bar of a few kind in the back of the reception table.

"Y'all can simply make yourselves comfortable whilst I allow Mr. Park recognize you are right here,” he instructed us with every other laugh earlier than sashaying returned to his spot in the back of the reception table.

"Thank you,” I instructed him as I took a seat in one of the leather-based chairs and crossed my legs.

As I sat ready, my heart commenced to overcome so rapid that it felt like it'd leap up out of my throat at any second. A stolen look over at Hanbin noticed his foot nervously tapping in opposition to the carpeted floor, and I felt relieved that I wasn't the simplest worried individual withinside the room.

A second later, the telephone on Jin's table rang, and he spoke back it on speaker.

"Send Ms. Y/L/N in first,” the voice said in a deep, authoritative tone.

"Right away, sir," Jin answered as he glanced over towards me.

I stood up and accompanied him down but every other lengthy hallway, with stylish artwork lining the partitions and porcelain statues each few feet.

At the quit of the hall, there has been a fancy-searching door with a platinum door knob.

"Knock, knock,” Jin said in a singsong-like voice as he knocked on it twice before turning the knob and pushing it open. “Ms. Y/L/N, meet Mr. Jay Park.”

He waited for me to step inside the large, elaborately decorated office before shutting the door behind me.

I stood there, with my back to the door and my orientation folder in my hand, not sure what to do next. Mr. Park had his head down and was doing something on his phone, but as soon as the door closed, he looked directly up at me, and my jaw almost hit the floor in utter awe.

Jay Park was none other than the sexy, model-esque man who'd been walking through the employee parking garage earlier.

I knew I was staring, but I didn't care. The man was a real-life Adonis.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N. Come. Have a seat.”

It was more of an order than a request, but I didn't mind. He had the most hypnotizing pair of eyes. They were a deep, dark br, and I felt as if I could get lost in them if I stared too long.

He didn't smile, but he didn't frown. He was eyeing me curiously as I made my way over to the chair in front of his huge, rectangular desk. I felt as if he was sizing me up for something... something other than just this job position.

"So, Ms. Y/L/N, you are twenty-four and you have an MS in Business Management. Impressive. What are your plans in the next five years?”

I felt completely on the spot. I cleared my throat before speaking.

"Well, I'm hoping to be working a job I love, maybe get promoted, and start moving up in the ranks."

"Hmm," he said quietly.

I leaned forward a bit and noticed that he had a folder open with my resume, cover letter, and some photos of me inside.

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

My heart sped up and began to beat harder than ever. He had removed his suit jacket, and his white silk shirt hugged his toned upper body with flair, accenting the broadness of his shoulders.

I shook my head and swallowed hard as my body temperature began to rise. No man had ever had such a profound effect on me. I could actually feel heat starting to build within my core and a noticeable tingling between my thighs.

He walked around to the back of my chair and stood behind me. My heart was beating a billion beats per minute.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

I shuddered at the feel of his breath against my lobe. My body was completely on fire for this man, and he hadn't even touched me. I was at a loss for words.

I wanted to glance up at him, but I was frozen in place like a stone statue, and all I could do was sit there facing forward as I waited to see what was going to happen next. From behind me, I heard him inhale deeply and then exhale slowly.

“Ahh, your perfume is intoxicating, but I sense something else about you, Ms. Y/L/N. You are in your prime,” he stated sensuously, his voice barely more than a whisper.

His lips were so close to my neck that his breath felt hot against my skin. It caused a shiver to run down my spine, and I had to muster every ounce of strength to keep a moan from escaping my lips.

Then, suddenly, he stood straight up and walked back around to the other side of his desk, and his demeanor had returned to a strictly professional one.

"Mrs. Son was quite impressed with you and spoke very highly of your interview," he said plainly as he sat back down in his chair.

"Really? Wow," I replied.

"You sound surprised," he said with a slight grin. "I know she can come across as somewhat ‘rigid, but it's all just part of how she does her job. She's extremely professional and would make an excellent poker player, no doubt.”

He chuckled slightly at his comment, and I uttered a small giggle as well.

"Well, I'm certain you'll be a definite asset to Park Industries, Ms. Y/L/N. Welcome to the team,” he said with a smile.

His smile revealed a set of the most perfect pearly whites I had ever seen up close. While staring at them, I almost missed the fact that he'd also extended his hand to me.

"Thank you, Mr. Park,” I said nervously, returning his smile with one of my own.

"You have a lovely smile, Ms. Y/L/N," he stated softly, still holding onto my hand after I'd stopped shaking it.

“Thanks,” I said coyly, tearing my eyes away from his before I became completely lost in them.

He ran his thumb slowly across the side of my hand before finally letting it go. That small, simple touch from him only added more fuel to the fire that was already building in my loins.

“Ms. Y/L/N? ”He called out to me just as I was about to leave his office.

"Yes?" I replied, turning around to look at him one more time.

"I'm having a small meeting this evening at the Italy Garden restaurant. The dress code is semi-formal. Can you be ready by 7:00?”

"Uhh, yes. Certainly, Mr. Park,” I replied, caught completely off guard.

"Great. I'll send a car to your place at 7:00, then.”

I left his office feeling flustered in more ways than one. It had been more than a year since I'd last had sex, and my attraction to Mr. Park was anything but subtle. He had a magnetic effect on me, one that I knew I was incapable of fighting.

I walked swiftly down the hall, past the small lounge where Hanbin was still seated, and into the ladies' restroom directly adjacent to Jin's reception desk. Breathing hard, I went into one of the stalls, set my folder down on the back of the commode, hiked my skirt up to my waist, and yanked my pants down to my thighs.

Panting like an animal in heat, I sat down on the seat and spread my legs.

"Mmm," I muttered as I closed my eyes and placed my right hand on the crotch of my thin satin pants.

Yanking my pants to the side, I exposed my moist, partially-swollen bud and began to massage it. Another moan escaped my lips as I bucked my hips and rubbed my pussy faster and harder.

I imagined that Mr. Park was in the bathroom stall with me and that he had pulled my pants to the side. It was his lips and tongue against my throbbing, swollen bulb, causing sighs and moans of delight to escape my mouth and sending me into a frenzy of pleasure.

“Ohhh,” I murmured softly as I pictured him rubbing the head of his hard, pulsating cock against my slick, hot slit.

I imagined his hands grabbing my ass cheeks and squeezing them hard in a fit of primal, uncontrollable passion. I pictured him entering me slowly at first, until his rock-hard dick was deep inside my pussy, stretching me to the limit.

"Fuuuck," I whispered as I plunged my fingers as deep into my warm, wet tunnel as they would go. "Yesss! Fuck me, Mr. Park!"

I imagined his cock moving in and out of me, faster and harder, fucking like wild animals as we both got closer and closer to our climaxes. Completely and totally engulfed in how unbelievably good the sex felt, neither one of us even cared that we were fucking unprotected.

"I want you to cum inside me, Mr. Park,” I imagined telling him. “Oh fuck, yessss! Cum in my pussy! Fill me up with your cum."

I didn't even care if I got pregnant or not; I just needed to feel his hot cum inside of me.

I was right on the brink of my orgasm, and I could already tell it was going to be a really good one. As I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out in pleasure, I pictured myself biting down on Mr. Park's ear to stifle my passion-filled moans.

My legs began to shake, and my hips bucked uncontrollably as a powerful climax wracked my entire body. I imagined Mr. Park squeezing my ass cheeks hard as his cock squirted into my cunt, filling me to the brim.

"Ohhh," I whispered, uttering a sigh of satisfaction as my orgasm began to wane.

After taking a moment to enjoy the afterglow, I quickly cleaned myself up, left the restroom, and headed back down to the 25th floor to finish out my workday.

I had just finished putting on my makeup when I noticed it was 6:45. The dress I had selected for tonight's meeting was a long, form-fitting silver cocktail gown I'd bought last spring. It was elegant, with a touch of sex appeal. The back dipped below the waist, and the front wrapped around the neck.

At 6:54, I heard a horn blow outside of my apartment. I slid into a pair of silver stiletto sandals, grabbed a small silver purse, and headed outside.

"Wow!" I exclaimed when I saw the pearly white stretch limousine waiting at the curb.

A tuxedo-clad chauffer opened my door for me and helped me into the back seat.

The inside of the limousine was immaculate! There was a fully-stocked bar with liquor, wine, and champagne. There were wine glasses on a glass shelf next to the bar. There was also a small fridge with fruits, cheeses, and other exotic-looking snack foods.

I helped myself to a glass of champagne and turned on the satellite radio to listen to on the way to the restaurant.

When we arrived about twenty minutes later, the chauffeur helped me out of the limo, and I walked inside. An older male host in a black and white suit was standing at a podium near the entrance.

"Good evening, Madam. Welcome to the Italy Garden restaurant. Do you have a reservation?” he asked.

“Umm, yes. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I'm here for a dinner meeting with Mr. Jay Park,” I replied anxiously, trying hard to hide how nervous I truly was.

The five-star dining facility was way out of my league and price range. I had never been in a place so upscale and fancy. There were scores of expensive-looking pictures hanging on the walls and exquisite artifacts and statues in and around the corners.

I followed the host to a luxurious VIP balcony area where Jay Park was already seated and waiting for me.

"You look amazing, Ms. Y/L/N," he said, flashing that billion-dollar smile that made me want to melt right where I stood.

"Thank you," I replied shyly, returning a smile his way.

The host pulled out my chair, and I sat down.

"I've taken the liberty to order us a bottle of the finest champagne this place has to offer,” he told me with a grin. “What are you in the mood for?”

I couldn't pronounce a single dish on the menu.

"I'll have whatever you're having," I said softly, closing my menu and setting it to the side. I didn't want to risk embarrassing myself in front of our waiter.

"This champagne is delightful," I exclaimed before taking another sip.

"Only the best for a woman as perfect as you, Y/N," Jay stated sweetly.

It was the first time he'd ever called me by my first name. I could feel my cheeks reddening as I smiled somewhat sheepishly.

"So where are the rest of the meeting attendees?” I asked inquisitively as I glanced around the area we were seated in.

"This meeting is just for you and me, Y/N," Jay said in a sultry tone of voice. "There's something about you, Y/N, that drives me crazy. Ever since you walked into my office, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."

I felt the same way about him. He was definitely the most attractive, magnetic, and alluring man I had ever met. I was just too shy to tell him so.

Dinner was absolutely incredible. The food was delicious, and I'd probably had a bit more champagne than I'd actually intended to drink. After a perfect meal, Jay led me back out to the limousine, and we both got into the backseat.

As we talked about our backgrounds, childhoods, and future plans while drinking top shelf champagne, I suddenly remembered that I hadn't even asked him where we were headed. Before I could even form the words to inquire, the limo slowed to a stop.

"Where are we?" I asked, just as the chauffeur opened the door.

“My place,” Jay replied with a grin. “I hope that's okay with you. There's something I want to show you."

Normally, I would have thought twice about going to the home of a man I'd just met, but there was just something about Jay that made him all but irresistible to me.

His house was beyond magnificent. The outside of it took up damned-near an entire city block, and the front yard stretched out around the sides of the house. There was a huge, circular, paved driveway at the front, and the limo had stopped directly in the middle.

I couldn't even imagine what it was he wanted to show me. I felt both excited and anxious simultaneously.

Taking my hand inside his, he proceeded to lead me through his humongous residence, showing me all of the different paintings and other extraordinary decor and informing me of the countries from which they'd been ordered. Finally, we came to this nice, dimly lit room with a beautiful faux fireplace against the rear wall. My eyes widened in amazement as we entered the romantic-looking space hand-in-hand.

"Wowww!" I exclaimed, as I had done several hundred times since we'd first gotten out of the limo. "This room is so..."

“Enchanting? ”Jay stated in a questioning tone, finishing my exclamation for me.

"Yeah! Definitely!” I agreed as I looked around in bewilderment.

There was a bar counter in the far left area of the room and what appeared to be a fully-stocked mini bar behind it. A lavish-looking cream-colored sectional sofa was in the middle of the space, facing the fireplace, and there was a huge matching rug laid out in front of it.

Just as I was about to remove my shoes out of respect for the rug, the lights suddenly dimmed lower, and about a hundred faux candles all lit up simultaneously. Also, smooth, relaxing, slow music immediately began to play. The candlelight appeared to dance to the beat of the music.

I was totally speechless and utterly astonished. I had never seen anything like it before. I glanced over at Jay, who had already removed his own shoes and was filling two wine glasses at the built-in mini bar.

"Please, have a seat, Y/N,” he said amorously, nodding toward the sectional.

I sat down and continued to enjoy the ambiance of the supremely romantic setting until he soon came over to join me and placed a glass of champagne in my hand.

"So? Do you like it?" he asked after taking a sip of his drink.

"Like it? This is absolutely amazing!" I said with a huge grin.

"I'm glad you think so. I've never brought any woman into this room until tonight.

"I find that extremely hard to believe,” I said honestly."

I may be a lot of things, Y/N, but I am definitely not a liar,” he asserted. “Men like me don't have to be in order to get what we want."

“Now that, I absolutely do believe,” I replied with a grin. “So, what is it that you want with me? ”

"Ahh, the billion-dollar question," he said sultrily.

Just then, a very popular song began to play.

"Ohh, I love this song!" he said excitedly as he stood up and held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

I didn't refuse. He pulled me upward and into his strong arms, and I wrapped mine around his neck. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating. I closed my eyes and pressed my body against his as we swayed to the music. Caught up in the moment, I felt like I could stay in his arms like that forever.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away for a moment and looked deep into my eyes.

“Y/N, you have it all. I adore your womanly physique, your stunningly bright brown eyes, and the fact that you are a very intelligent young woman. You are damned-near flawless. From the very first moment you walked into my office, I have had an undeniable, overwhelming attraction to you, and I know you feel it too."

I was completely speechless. I mean, what was I supposed to say? How do you even reply to a statement like that?

In all honesty, I was just as attracted to him as he was to me, but with him being both my boss and such a wealthy, sophisticated man, I think I felt a little bit intimidated. I'd never imagined myself being wined and dined with a billionaire Adonis like him.

I just kind of stood there, gazing into his tantalizing eyes like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.

"Y/N,” he whispered as he suddenly spun me around so that he was behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Yes," I whispered back to him as the feeling of his warm breath against the nape of my neck instantly made me moist between my thighs.

I moaned as his soft lips brushed against the lobe of my him,. My body was instantaneously on fire for him and he had barely touched me.

"I want you," he whispered as his manly hands found my breasts and cupped them through the thin fabric of my cocktail dress.

The tips of his fingers found my nipples, causing another moan to escape my mouth. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, and then suddenly, my dress slid carelessly to the floor. I was braless, and this seemed to turn Jay on even more.

He groaned as I felt his manhood begin to stiffen against my ass.

"Y/N, you're fucking perfect,” he said gruffly, his voice raspy against my ear. “I want you. And you want me, too, don't you?

"Yes, Jay, yes," I moaned.

His hands squeezed my breasts, and I sighed loudly, arching my back. I felt his stiffening cock twitch in his pants.

"I'm twenty-eight years old, and I'm not getting any younger, Y/N. I've been looking for the right woman to bear my offspring, and you are the perfect specimen. I know you probably walked into the Park building today with your own plans and aspirations for your career and whatnot, but I have to be honest with you; I want you to bear my children.”

It was a lot to take in. He had certainly said a mouthful. I wasn't so sure about having kids with a man I'd just met, but he was definitely different from any other man I'd ever met, and odds were that I'd probably never meet anyone quite like him again.

His right hand slid down my midsection and into the front of my satin pants. I hissed with delight, biting down on my lip to stifle my cry of pleasure. He was applying just the right amount of pressure to my bud, and I was grinding my crotch against his hand.

"Don't hold back, Y/N,” he ordered in a breathy voice. “Let it all out!”

With that, he slid two fingers inside my dripping-wet pussy. I thrust my hips forward and let out a cry.

“Fuck, your pussy is already so wet for me! ”He declared with a grunt, pressing his erection against my ass.

Just as I was about to climax, he stopped, pulled his fingers out of my pants, and turned me around to face him. He put his fingers in his mouth and sucked my excitement out of them. My face flushed with need.

Then he pushed me down onto my knees as he undid his pants, releasing his stiff, throbbing cock. It was large—larger than I'd expected. It was definitely the biggest dick I'd ever seen in my twenty-four years on this earth. But I didn't care. I was going to try my damnedest to swallow it whole.

I caressed the shaft as I slid my tongue around the tip of his cock, teasing it gently, and then sliding it down into my mouth as far as it would go. I sucked it slowly and easily at first, and then I took my hand and used it with the rhythm of my mouth, sucking it as hard and fast as I could.

Groans fell from Jay's lips as he grabbed my hair and fucked my mouth. Then suddenly, he stopped me.

Easing the rest of the way out of his pants, he pulled me up toward him again and kissed me passionately, using his tongue to invade my mouth hungrily. I moaned as he began to trail his lips and tongue down my neck, pausing to lick, suck, and fondle both of my breasts, and then continuing down my belly until he reached the top of my pants.

With his teeth, he worked my pants down over my hips and buttocks, letting them drop to the floor near my dress. He parted my thighs slightly, using his fingers to slide my folds apart and massage my bud. Then, his lips replaced his fingers against my moist, pulsating pussy, and I cried out in sheer passion.

He was so skilled and talented—his tongue was like a fucking vibrating sex toy! He grabbed and squeezed my ass with one hand and used the other to slide two fingers back inside my pussy. I couldn't take it anymore!

"Fucckkk, I'm going to cum, Jay! I'm going to cum...so...fucking..." I couldn't even finish my sentence. His fingers pressed against my g-spot, and his tongue darted fast and hard against my pussy, sending me completely over the edge with the most powerful, intense, earth-shattering orgasm I had ever experienced.

My entire body shuddered and shook, and my legs tensed up. I grabbed his head as my crotch jerked forward uncontrollably against his face.

"Shiiiiittt! Oh fuuuuck!" I screamed loudly, unable to speak any other words.

When my climax finally began to wane, just as I was about to catch my breath, Jay suddenly lifted my legs up on his shoulders and gently pushed me down onto the soft, cream-colored rug lying me down on my back.

Not wasting a second, he slid his huge, hard cock into me slowly, with my legs still hoisted up on his shoulders.

I moaned long and hard as he stretched me to my limit, sliding deeper into my pussy than any other man had ever been.

“Fuck, Y/N, your pussy's so tight and wet! ," he exclaimed, moaning as he began to thrust in and out of me, going deeper with every stroke.

I was moaning so loudly that I could barely even hear the music playing anymore. His own groans became louder and longer with every thrust of his burly hips.

I reached up and wrapped my hands around his neck as he started fucking me harder and faster. It wasn't long before I felt a second orgasm building, getting closer and closer...

I still wasn't exactly certain about letting him impregnate me and make me the mother of his children, but the sex was fucking earth-shattering. I had never been fucked so good before! I felt his huge, stiff cock plunging in and out of me as I cried out in delirious pleasure.

Just as I was about to scream out loud, having reached my second powerful orgasm, he let out a loud, long groan, and I knew he was there, too. We were climaxing together simultaneously, and for a brief moment, it was like the two of us became one in our own world of bliss.

I felt his cock spurting his hot cum deep inside of me, filling my pussy to the brim, but it felt so fucking wonderful that I didn't give a shit. Besides, he was rich and handsome and could fuck like a damn machine.

As we finally came back to our senses, Jay kissed my lips as he slid out of me and plopped down on the rug beside me. The fake fire was still going, and the lights and music were still playing.

"That was, by far, the best sex I've ever had in my life,” I said breathily as I looked over at him.

"Me too," he said sultrily as he slid his arm beneath my neck.

With that, his eyes closed, as did mine, and we both drifted off into a satisfied slumber.

Jay and I continued to fuck like rabbits over the next few weeks, having hot, steamy, amazing sex every chance we got. And every time he came, he shot his hot cum deep inside of me.

Three weeks later, my pregnancy test came back positive. Jay was ecstatic, of course. At first, I had mixed emotions. I was going to become a mother. Was I really ready?

He immediately made me quit my job and put me in a beautiful condo with a view that overlooked the entire city. He found me the best doctors in the area and accompanied me to all of my prenatal appointments.

So I wouldn't be able to work for a while. I mean, babies don't stay babies. They eventually grow up into adults who can take care of themselves. Who knows? Once I've raised my kids, perhaps I'll still want to go back into the workforce.

For now, though, I think I'll just enjoy swelling with Jay's seed, growing rounder and riper by the day.

[sunsetchicane]

Postcards - Part 1 [LN4]

lando norris x journalist fem!reader

find the series here

word count: 10k

summary: The one where everything begins. You are working a gala and run into Lando Norris. A whirlwind evening brings you to a crossroads, your budding new relationship hanging in the balance.

warnings: tiny bit a swearing here and there, slight sexual innuendo, angst, all around pretty mild (for nowww)

author's note: I am so excited to start this series!! I have been planing and scheming and I can't wait for you all to see it unfold. Releasing part one is completely surreal. As always, feedback is appreciated, so please let me know of any questions/concerns/comments you have. Lots of love and I hope you enjoy!! [xoxo elle]

December 2021

With trembling fingers, you smooth out the fabric of your evening dress. You’ve done this countless times already, but another time can’t hurt. After checking yourself over in the mirror once more, running your fingers through your hair to make sure it looks right, and dabbing on a little more lip gloss, you exit the bathroom to rejoin your colleagues. 

The event space sparkles around you with seasonal cheer. For the last few weeks, you were volunteered, without your consent, to help your department put on a charity gala. Since you were the freshest hire, it made sense that you were put on tasks that didn’t exactly fit your job description. 

When you started working for a prestigious international publication based in Monaco, you expected to jump right in. You were an eager early graduate ready to take on the world at the ripe age of 21. Since you walked into the office on your very first day, you itched to grab your camera and hop on a flight anywhere to start chasing a story. Instead, you’ve spent the last few months being assigned to this and that around the office, slowly climbing your way up the metaphorical totempole. 

Was it egregious at first? Most definitely. 

Being in one place for an extended amount of time has never been your thing. You did two years of university on campus, but quickly grew tired of it. So, you switched to online and finished up in record time, all while hopping from place to place. However, you’ve slowly grown accustomed to seeing the same people everyday and making friends along the way while working in Monaco. It surprises you how fond you’ve become of this place. You’ve never called anywhere home, but this city has become as close as you think you’ll ever get.

Picking up your camera bag and black leather binder, you make your way towards the bar where the rest of the team set up shop. As you walk over to the huddle, you take a minute to truly admire all the work put into this gala. The giant arching windows of the event space are dressed in white and gold silks that match the table cloths and decor. Glittering lights hang from the vaulted ceiling, casting a warm glow over the large room. Candles line every table, causing the glasses and white porcelain plates to sparkle in the sultry lighting. There’s a dance floor in the front of the room, behind which is a short stage filled with the hired band’s instruments. And finally, there’s your favorite part. On the far side of the room, a silent auction is being held. There are tables lined with exclusive works from your company. There are first editions, rare prints, iconic autographed pieces, everything that makes a journalist or a collector want to combust. Finding all of the works that are on auction tonight was an incredibly difficult task, but equally as gratifying. It all looks just how you imagined it – exactly how you planned it.

Stealing a few more seconds for yourself, you snap a few shots of the details. The lighting gives the photos a sensual cascade of warm colors. You adore the way they look and can’t wait to capture more moments as the night goes on.

You hear your name being called from over by the bar. Snapping out of your creative stupor, you briskly walk over to the small crowd of your coworkers. They’re going over final checks to make sure everything is in order before we open the doors in an hour. Bobbi, serving as point for tonight's event, delegates tasks to everyone. As they’re assigned a duty, they bugger off to execute it as quickly as possible. After everyone leaves, it’s just you and Bobbi.

“You need to work your camera so hard tonight that you have to invoice the company for a new one.” She says pointedly, her tone firm and commanding. Bobbi has the ‘scary leader’ bit down to a science. However, you’re not afraid of her. She’s genuinely a great person, not to mention a brilliant writer, and also the closest friend you’ve probably ever had. She’s a couple years older than you and has been a bit of a mentor over the months that you’ve worked under her. She’s the no-nonsense to your fully nonsense life. In short, she keeps you grounded, humble.

“Working her like a racehorse, boss.” You confirm, nodding and giving her a mock-serious face.

“Don’t call me that.” She says while collecting her things into a neat pile. “And wipe that look off your face before it gets stuck like that.”

That puts a small smile on your face as she walks away. You watch as she stops here and there, straightening things out or fixing a wrinkle in a table cloth. Quickly, you snap a couple shots of her when she’s not looking. She looks effortlessly classy in her black dress and heels and slicked back black hair. You can’t help but hope you look as put together as her. But the chances are good you most definitely don’t. A word to the wise: if you’re going to live in Monaco, learn how to dress. Everything here is to the nines or not at all. 

The next hour until the doors open is quick, maybe too quick. You’re in a bit of a tizzy as the guests start arriving. There are countless paparazzis and journalists waiting alongside the carpeted stairs that bring the guests to the front doors. You stand stationed inside to capture the night in candids. Your photos will be used in the next publication, so you have to do well. There’s a lot riding on your performance tonight. No pressure, right? 

Glittering people slip through the doors, spilling into the event. You watch from the edges and shadows as their mouths fall open at the splendor. They lean into each other and whisper about the decor and ambiance. It makes your heart race, wondering exactly what they’re saying. It’s the nosy journalist in you that needs an answer to every question. 

When the moment feels right, you snap pictures as discreetly as you can. It’s your job to be invisible amongst the party-goers. These people are here for charity and to socialize. The money that they haul in with them is far more than you could even bear to think about. It drips from them as they walk; it tumbles from their pockets, unnoticed. Celebrities and politicians and everyone in between has been invited tonight. There’s a tight feeling in your chest as you take picture after picture of the wealthy. There’s a large disconnect between you and these people. Not so long ago, it was a great day if you ended up with three meals and clean clothes to wear. Now look at you–taking pictures of men who wear watches that could finance the rest of your life. 

As the time slides by and the sun settles itself into the horizon, the flow of guests has nearly stopped. A few tailenders slip in before the doors close, signifying the real beginning of the night. The music plays quietly in the background, but is nearly drowned out by the chatter that rises from each and every table. There are groups of people standing and socializing, a few people slung along the bar, and the rest are seated at their assigned spots. Sighing, you let your camera fall to your side for the first time since the first guest arrived. You’ve been working the room, snapping shots of any and everything that catches your eye. 

You walk back over to the foyer, seeking out one last shot before the meal is served and toasts begin. As you walk, you adjust the settings on your camera so you’ll get the shot just right. Without checking around you, you bring the camera up to your eye to test the settings by taking a couple photos. Immediately, your eye catches on someone in the viewfinder. He’s standing along the wall, his head ducked down into a glass of champagne. His eyes are scanning over the bustling crowd of people. You can only see him in profile, but he looks nearly perfect leaned up against that wall with the icy glass pressed to his lips. His black suit glitters in the soft lighting along with his eyes. His skin is a warm tan, working blessedly well with the lighting that surrounds him. Quickly, you zoom in and frame up a better shot of just him. The shutter snaps shut a few times. As it does so, you watch in horror as the man starts to turn his face toward you, looking right down your lens. You capture it all in a line of photos. His furrowed frown melts into a sly smile as he catches you photographing him. He laughs a little while shaking his head.

When you finally take a moment to look at him, you find that you actually know him. Well, know of him. Bobbi’s son has forced you to sit down and watch Formula One reruns with him on multiple occasions. The face of one of his favorite drivers is this face in front of you. Lando Norris, Formula One driver for McLaren. And by the looks of it, a total cocky bastard. A cute bastard, but bastard nonetheless.

Needing to escape this situation, you try to remember why you were over here. You can’t believe you got so distracted so quickly. Thinking briefly, you remember the photo that you need to take. Just as you turn around to find the shot, a voice rumbles in your ear. His accent is acutely British and sends a wave of chills running down your spine. He’s unnervingly close, his breath hitting your ear and neck. It should make you terribly uncomfortable, but it doesn’t.

“Did you get my good side?” He asks smoothly, a hint of humor in his voice. As you turn to face him, there’s a cheeky smile plastered onto his young face. Seeing him this close, it strikes you now just how young he is. He can’t be much older than you, if at all. His hazel eyes are bright and glinting with humor as you stare him down.

“That depends,” You muse, folding your arms over your chest. “Which side is that?”

“You tell me, you’re the professional.” He shoots back with a wink while gesturing at your camera with his glass of champagne. You catch yourself before rolling your eyes, it’s too early to be harassing the guests. Instead, you decide to play his little game. You’re always up for a game.

Bringing your fingers to tap against your lips, you hum in faux concentration. Tentatively, you take steps to the right, examining his left side.

“No…” You say, expressing that it wasn’t his “good side.” But it’s simply not true, all of his sides are good sides. Pressing on, you take a few steps to your left to check out the right side.

“No,” You say again, a little more firmly. Instead of standing in front of him once more, you continue to walk around him. 

“Ah!” Humor is clear in your voice as you stop directly behind him, staring at the back of his head. His hair is fluffy, but styled nicely for tonight. His neck is long and thick, causing his suit to bunch at the collar just slightly. His hands are tucked together behind his back, his glass dangerously close to spilling the remaining contents. You have to admit that he’s quite cute. The internal admission makes you blush to yourself.

“This is perfect.” You joke, trying to shake off your thoughts about him. You bring your camera out to take a couple shots of him. His head turns to the side just enough so you can capture a sliver of his face in your last photo. Once you’re done snapping pictures, he turns around with his tongue tracing over his front teeth. There’s a coy smile that plays on his pink lips. He takes your joke in stride, the humor most definitely not lost on him. You like a man who can take a joke.

“Jokes on you, I know I have a lovely backside.” He says quietly while leaning in to you slightly. One of his eyebrows pops up while he grins at you. You scoff a little while shaking your head. He’s nearly exactly as you’d imagined him. The way his eyes sparkle captivates you, drawing you in. In this lighting it's hard to tell exactly what the color of his irises are, but it’s a challenge you would love to take. You think about holding him close and slowly piecing together the puzzle that is Lando Norris.

Just as you’re about to make a witty comment about his backside, the feedback of a microphone turning on pulls your attention away. Suddenly, you remember that you’re not here to chat and flirt with the guests. You’re on the clock. Chiding yourself for being so easily distracted, you quickly switch the memory SD card in your camera for a new one. 

“Duty calls,” You say quietly to Lando, “Excuse me.”

He blinks at you a couple of times, unsure of how to proceed. It looks as if he wasn’t expecting you to dash out on him. The thought makes you laugh. Everyone should expect you to dash out at the first chance. Though, as you look into his eyes, for the first time in a long time, maybe you don’t want to run. And that scares the shit out of you. Before you do something you’ll definitely regret, you turn on your heels to escape to anywhere but here.

“Make sure you send those to me. I love a good ass pic.” Lando calls to you as you walk away. In spite of yourself, you send him a grin over your shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

For the rest of the night, you try to focus on your job, but you catch your eye wandering. Whether it be of desire or compulsion, you weren’t completely sure, you look for him in the crowd of people. You search for him in the photos you take. His smile has etched itself into your long term memory, his charming demeanor dances across your mind. Savoring every time you get a half glance of him or just a piece of him in one of your photos, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever speak to him again.

The gala drags on. Party-goers get drunk and spend copious amounts on things that most of them will just hang on a wall to glance at occasionally. Staying to the edges as you’ve been told to, you watch in on these people. As you do, you feel something odd settling in your chest, a feeling that you’ll never belong here truly. It’s not a foreign feeling to you anymore, not after everything you’ve been through. However, rejection is rejection. All you are to these people is a silly girl with a camera, a wallflower, the help. A wave of emotion crests in your mind and crashes down into your heart. The overwhelming feeling of needing to run away from here, to escape these people and their frivolous lives takes over all of your senses. 

Checking the time, you decide that you’ve done your part. It’s late into the night and the gala seems to be winding down. Sliding along the walls of the room, you make your way over to the corner where Bobbi has been looming all night. Her eyes scan over a paper in her binder as you sidle up next to her. She gives you a half glance before continuing to read whatever is in front of her.

“Leaving?” Bobbi says in that specific Bobbi way that makes you feel caught. You blame it on the fact that she’s a mother. Hence why you can’t help but feel like a small child caught in the act.

“Uh, if that’s alright with you, bos–Bobbi.” You stammer, feeling a little out of sorts. You usually aren’t the stumbling and bumbling type. Bobbi doesn’t miss it. She side-eyes you carefully, analyzing you from head to toe. After a couple of seconds of feeling like a circus spectacle, she sighs and closes the black binder in her hands.

“Go,” Bobbi says as her hands drop to her sides. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Relief floods through you as the words come out of her mouth. You’re so pleased you think you could actually kiss her on the mouth. But that would be highly unprofessional while on the job. Instead, you thank her verbally. 

Dashing off, you collect your bag and coat from the room in the front. You carefully tuck away your camera into your bag and pull out your wallet. The party continues behind you as you pull your jacket on, sling your backpack over your shoulders, and all but run out the front doors.

December air crashes into your lungs as you slip into the night. You savor the fresh way it fills your lungs, replacing the stifling heat of the party. Taking the stairs in twos, you bound towards the street to hail a taxi. You don’t have a car and biking here in a dress didn’t seem like a great move, so a taxi was the best you could do. 

A few people line the street, standing scattered along the sidewalk in front of the event. The valet kiosk is busy with a few people who seem to be fleeing the party early as well. Smiling to yourself, you can’t help but wonder what is driving each of these poor souls home so soon. What are all of these people running from?

Your eye is caught by a flash of yellow. Raising your hand and reaching out onto the street, you attempt to wave down the taxi. You watch as it slows down and pulls in right behind a car that’s just been pulled up into the valet area. The sleek sports car hums with power that you’ve only recently become acquainted with. Monaco’s collection of cars seems to be endlessly vast and magnificently sexy. In the low lighting, the black car nearly fades into the night. Only the gleaming highlights of the reflective carbon fiber exterior and the glow of the headlights and taillights give away its shape. Your eyes are glued to it, wondering if the rattle in your chest is from the rumbling engine or just your stuttering heart. It’s no surprise when you didn’t notice him stride up next to you.

“Wicked, huh?” Lando says, standing just off to your right. For a few moments in your mesmerized state, you don’t recognize him. His eyes are on you, but you still haven’t peeled your eyes away from the car.

“Yeah,” You agree absentmindedly as you drag your eyes over the vehicle. Everything has faded into a blur, even your waiting taxi a thought of the past.

“Wanna ride?” Lando offers, the words tumbling out of his mouth. With that, your mind snaps back into focus. A frown falls over your face as you turn to the man standing next to you. There’s a warning poised on your lips, ready to tell off some stupid man that just because he has a fancy car, it doesn’t mean that he can just get whatever or whoever he wants. The second your eyes lock with Lando’s, the venom you were ready to spit is gone and lost. His eyes are wide and his bottom lip is pulled into his mouth as he looks at you. Your jaw goes slightly slack and for the first time in a long time, you’re speechless. You really aren’t on your game tonight. Chiding yourself, you shake off your inhibitions and try to fall back into your normal self. 

“I mean,” Lando says while shifting from foot to foot and clearing his throat. “Would you like a ride home?”

Pink has started to creep up his neck and into his cheeks. A pinched and slightly embarrassed expression covers his face. It surprises you slightly. You thought that he was all bravado and classic arrogance. This display of sheepishness has caught you by surprise. Once more, you recognize just how young he is–how young both of you are. Teenage blushing and awkwardness haven’t completely left you yet. Something about it warms you in a way that you desperately need.

Glancing over at your taxi, you weigh your options. But there really isn’t a choice here, is there? Not taking Lando’s offer would be a slap in your own face and a shame to all of your core truths. There’s something deeper at play as well. It feels as though you’re looking into the eyes of fate, your destiny being drawn out before you. Plus, it kinda helps that he’s cute.

“Take me away,” You say, a genuine smile coming to your face. He blinks at you once before returning your smile in full force.

“Come on then,” He says while beckoning you to follow him. In a few brief steps, he stops in front of the passenger door and pulls it open. The butterfly doors lift up, exposing the luxurious interior. You think you might combust. 

“I’m Lando, by the way.” He says, one hand holding the door and the other extending toward you. There’s a slightly smug look on his face. Narrowing your eyes at him, you slide your hand into his. It’s the first time you’ve ever touched. His skin feels warm against yours, his fingertips branding prints into the back of your hand. Sparks fly out from where you’re joined together, goosebumps cascading over your skin. Never have you had a physical connection make you feel this way, let alone a handshake. Something flickers to life deep inside of you. Lando’s touch has just awoken something that you didn’t know was there, but now cannot deny the existence of. 

With your hand still in his, you tell him your name. To your delight, he repeats it back to you. The way it rolls off his tongue, painted in his accent, makes you want to drop to your knees. Sweet like honey is the way it feels to be in his presence. 

“Pleasure,” He says. It doesn’t sound like a casual remark, though. It sounds more like a promise. The thought makes your stomach do a flip.

“Likewise,” You say, your voice coming out soft as velvet. The way his eyes are watching you makes you feel alive. Every nerve ending in your body is standing at attention, ready for whatever comes next. You might call yourself a bit of an adrenaline junkie, and this adventure with Lando has you buzzing. 

“Hop in, love.” Lando says before finally dropping your hand. Butterflies flap in your stomach at the casual endearment. Sending him a small, crooked smile, you slide into the seat in front of you. After closing the door with careful hands, he rounds the car and joins you inside behind the wheel. The hum of the engine fills your ears as you allow yourself to analyze the interior. Black surrounds you, lit up by red LED lights placed around the console and dash. You tuck your bag by your feet before strapping yourself in with the seat belt. 

“Where to?” Lando asks, his hand reaching out. For a split second, your heart starts to race, thinking he’s reaching out to take your hand. It would be a bold move, but not one you’d be opposed to. But he stops short, his long fingers resting over the gear stick. Flicking your eyes from his hand to his face, you tell him your address. He nods and then pushes the car into gear, leading the two of you off into the night.

Now, you should probably have thought twice about sharing your address with a total stranger, but the truth is, you don’t know how long you’ll actually be living here. In your mind, everything is temporary. Permanence has never been a rule in your game. So, sharing your home address with someone you just met and somewhat have started to trust doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. Plus, you don’t think Lando has the stomach to be a serial killer, so he has that going for him.

“How long have you been in Monaco?” Lando asks, his eyes not leaving the road. Taking the opportunity to stare at his side profile, you contemplate how to answer.

“A few months. I started a job here with the company that hosted the event tonight.” You say, shrugging and turning your head to watch the buildings fly by. Lights dance across your eyes, streaks of it blurring into the cityscape around you. You’ve never been in a car like this before. It’s mesmerizing, the way the sound and feel of it mixes with the visual, causing a sensory explosion. Powerful is the only way you can describe it. You wonder how it feels to harness such power. The man next to you does it so frequently, it’s no wonder he is the way he is. This understanding makes you feel warm, like without asking or him telling you, you’ve started to see him. It’s a brand new experience for you to feel this way in a personal matter.

“What exactly do you do there?” He asks, pulling you from your thoughts. You can feel his eyes on you now. The thought of him stealing glances at you while his eyes should be locked on the road makes little fireworks go off in your chest. 

“I’m supposed to be a journalist.” You sigh, falling back into the deep cushion of your seat. “But right now, I’m just working my way up.”

Lando hums in acknowledgement of your struggle. Something tells you that he knows exactly what you mean. It feels so odd to be so comfortable with him, to know that you're being understood too. It scares you a little. Getting close is dangerous, you might end up getting burned.

“Wait!” You say as your eyes catch on a familiar sight. “Pull over here.”

The 24 hour grocery shop near your apartment has become your closest friend. On late nights, you sneak over and peruse the ice cream section. Tonight seems like the perfect occasion to stop by and grab a sweet treat. There’s nothing quite like an impromptu casual ice cream date.

Casual, right?

Casual.

Lando laughs to himself a little, but does what you ask, pulling into a parking space in front of the shop. You send him the sweetest smile you can muster up. He looks up and down your face, his lips slightly parted. The image of kissing those lips flashes across your mind but is gone in an instant. You can’t do that. You barely know him and would hate to give the wrong impression. Of course you’re attracted to him, but nothing can come of this. All this can be is a little bit of fun.

“Come on,” You urge, your hand falling on the door handle. You both exit the car and hurry inside the shop. Mindlessly, you grab Lando’s hand to lead him over to the aisle you’re desperately needing. But, in your hurry, you don’t miss the way he swallows hard when your fingers wrap around his. Having your hand again feels completely natural, as if the two of you had known each other for years. 

Instead of dwelling on the deeper meanings of things or contemplating the intense energy between the two of you, you scour the ice cream shelves.

“Ice cream tells you a lot about someone.” You whisper to the man next to you, exaggerating your reverence to the frozen food section. Eyes flickering up to his, you’re pleased to find him looking at you. There’s a smirk pulling at a corner of his mouth.

“Really?” He coos sarcastically.

“Yeah, so just know I am judging you on what you choose.” You fire back. He smiles now, the apple of his cheeks and the slightest of dimples popping out. Shaking his head at you, he carefully approaches the freezer. He doesn’t drop your hand, however. Your interlocked fingers hang between the two of you while he contemplates his decision. Casting one last glance at you, he yanks the door open and snatched his choice.

Without being asked, he presents you with his selection. It’s peanut butter pecan. Bringing your free hand to your mouth, you try to stifle your laugh. He furrows his brow, looking terribly offended.

“This is objectively a great flavor.” He defends weakly.

“If you’re geriatric, then definitely.”  You shoot back, your voice weak with suppressed laughter. He shakes his head at you, tucking his tongue into his cheek. 

“Go on then.” He says while gesturing wildly with his ice cream in hand. Smiling widely, you take all but two seconds to pluck your favorite from the shelf. With no little amount of flair, you show him your far superior pick.

“Cookie dough? So basic.” He says incredulously, looking completely underwhelmed.

“I think you mean ‘classic.’” You correct, tilting your head to the side. Even when he’s perturbed, you can’t help but admire him. Somewhere along the way, he lost his tie and undid the top button of his dress shirt. His hair is messy now, unlike when you first saw him. He must have been running his hands through it. You wonder what it feels like to run your hands through his hair. 

“I think not.” He scoffs, mimicking your head tilt. Rolling your eyes, you drop his hand to shove his shoulder playfully. You breeze past him towards the checkout. But before you turn the corner around the aisle you glance back at him.

“Come on, mister. We have to get you back to the retirement center before anyone notices.” You tease before finally slipping away. Laughing to yourself, you make your way to the only open checkout counter. The older gentlemen standing behind the counter watches you approach with kind eyes.

“Bonsoir, Anton,” You greet him with a smile before handing him your pint of ice cream. Anton works the night shift frequently, meaning you and him have become very well acquainted.

“Bonsoir, mon cher.” He says back in a soft voice. He scans your ice cream into the system just as Lando comes up right behind you. His chest presses into your shoulder as he leans forward to hand his ice cream to Anton. It occurs to you like a tidal wave that you never want him to move. Having him pressed against you feels like heaven on earth. It’s so right, so warm…

And then it’s gone. He backs up off of you and slides around to pay. Anton hands him the ice creams along with a couple of plastic spoons. Swallowing hard, you glance from Lando to Anton. From the corner of his eye, Anton watches you. You pop an eyebrow at him. He gives you a look that says not bad. Shaking your head at your friend, you can’t help but smile. Anton is right. Not bad, not bad at all.

“Au revoir,” You say with a wink.

“Se comporter,” Anton whispers. “Au revoir.”

Behave. Smiling wildly, you catch up with Lando who’s waiting at the end of the counter. He hands you your ice cream and spoon, which you take gratefully. 

Exiting the shop together, you stand basking in the glow of the shop’s lights that stream through the windows. You peel the lid from your ice cream and open up the package to the plastic spoon before shoving a bite into your mouth. When the cold snack hits your tongue, it sends a chill through you along with a fabulous wave of flavor. Ice cream at night in December might not have been your most practical idea, but damn was it delicious. 

“So, Lando,” You say once you’ve swallowed, bumping your shoulder against his. “What is it that you do?” 

He’s in the middle of spooning a bite into his mouth when his eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up. The spoon hangs in his mouth for a second while he tries to formulate his answer. You can see the ‘you don’t know who I am’ look on his face and hope desperately that he doesn’t voice those thoughts aloud. Of course you do know who he is, but you still want to hear him tell you. 

“I’m a driver.” He says vaguely, his eyes falling back to his ice cream. Pressing your lips into a line to refrain from smiling, you loop your arm into his. You begin walking down the street, lugging him after you. He doesn’t complain, but simply follows your actions, striding alongside you.

“What does a driver do?” You pry, wanting to get a real answer out of him. 

“Drives,” He smirks. Rolling your eyes, you have to admit you walked into that one.

“If you continue to be so vague with your answers, I’ll have to assume you’re a getaway driver. Are we talking full ‘Baby Driver’ here? Or more ‘Fast and the Furious?’ Just so you know, I’m not really a fan of career criminals–” You ramble and badger him verbally to get him to open up a little. Sometimes all you need to do to get answers is just annoy someone.

“I’m not a criminal!” He interjects, a little dumbfounded at your verbose display.

“Would a free criminal admit to being a criminal?” You ponder aloud before shoving another bite into your mouth. His eyes are on you. You pin him with a quizzical look to further your point. He shakes his head and pops another bite of ice cream into his mouth while you continue to stroll down the street together.

“You’re–” He starts, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“Still waiting for an answer. Yes I am.” You say, finally looking up at him with serious eyes.

He gazes down at you softly, his lips drawn to the side as he bites the inside corner of his mouth. You can tell he’s slightly giddy about what he’s going to say to you. He’s gauging your reaction carefully. You flash him a small smile and wide eyes.

“I’m a Formula One driver for McLaren.” He says casually then waits for your response. Honestly, you’re sort of surprised that he didn’t lead with this the entire night. His cockiness is clear, but that’s sort of to be expected when you are one of only 20 people that do what you do. It’s not an excuse or a free pass for arrogance, but it makes sense. You’ve entered the part of the night where you’re going to expose his true colors.

“Oh, that’s cool.” You say equally as casually, downplaying the massive deal that he is. It’s not like you aren’t impressed with him, because you are. But there’s a game to play here and rules to follow. He blinks rapidly as his plan starts to fall to pieces in front of him. It’s borderline hilarious to watch his bravado splinter. He flounders slightly, scrambling to pick up the pieces of his failed move.

“That usually works, right? Telling girls that you’re this international racing star?” You say, putting his failure in the limelight. Red flushes into his cheeks, only slightly noticeable as you pass under the warm glow of a streetlight. He catches on then, his nervousness and embarrassment fading slightly.

“Yeah,” He says, shame being conveyed in his monosyllabic answer. Slyly, you glance up at him, a smirk playing across your lips. It’s fun to make people squirm a little. It makes them realer, more human. A guy like this who spends his time in the public eye deserves to be unleashed into pure, unadulterated humanity every once in a while. Your incessant teasing allows him that freedom.

“Did you know?” He asks after a quick pause, his face pinched into a frown. Instead of answering, you look away and take another bite of ice cream. Scoffing, he stops walking. Slipping your arm out of his, you swing around to stand in front of him. He’s glowering at you. It makes you laugh.

“I knew,” You admit while popping the lid back onto your ice cream. “My friend’s son is obsessed with you.”

He looks at you with wide eyes. You opt out of telling him that you’ve seen all of his races and post-race interviews from this past season. Maybe that’s why you feel like you know him so well. No other reason makes sense.

“Why did you harass me into telling you?” He asks while plucking your plastic spoon from your hand to dispose of in a nearby trash can. 

“I don’t think I harassed you into anything. But, habit, I suppose.” You say while shrugging. It’s the best answer you can give him. You really did want to see the way he acted and get the real answers that you were searching for. There’s a lot to learn about someone in the way they talk about themselves. When he comes to stand in front of you, he has a crooked smile on his face. Relief washes over you when you see that he’s not actually upset.

“Journalists,” He huffs dramatically before flashing you a show-stopping grin. You bite your bottom lip as you gaze into his eyes. They’re bright and glittering in the night, a beacon of light in the darkness. You blink up at the man in front of you, feeling slightly dazed. He’s stepping closer, invading your space. It makes you go completely still. For all of his thinly veiled arrogance and annoying charm, you can’t help but feel drawn in by him. There’s a man inside of those defenses that you’re desperate to see. 

But he isn’t a story to be hunted down and peeled apart, he’s a person.

It occurs to you then that this is highly dangerous. The feelings that have been stirring in you all night because of the man standing in front of you are the type that you always avoid. Growing connections and reaching out to people puts them at risk. There’s never a moment where you’re not thinking about leaving or what’s coming next. You can’t allow yourself to put people in the line of fire. It’s not that you don’t care about people; it’s about not allowing people to care for you. Once you run out of their lives, never to return, you’re the one responsible for their broken hearts if it goes too deep. 

This situation with Lando is a prime example of the thing you’ve always feared. You can tell that Lando is starting to care. He cares about how you see him; he cares about the way your hand fits in his; he cares about the way you smile at him. It crushes you. In a world where this should make you over the moon, you feel six feet under. Tonight is a one night thing. It has to be. It’s the only way to keep you both safe. 

So, you do what you do best. You run.

“It’s getting pretty late,” You say, taking a step back for safety. It physically pains you to say the words out loud, knowing they’re a prerequisite to an unavoidable goodbye. You have to remind yourself that a little bit of pain now is worth it to spare everyone from a heartbreak.

Lando is taken aback by your sudden shift in mood. It’s understandable. Just seconds ago, he was moving in after spending a lovely time with you. Now he’s being rejected. When a small flash of hurt paints his features, you want to wrap him up in your arms and explain to him why you’re doing this. But you know that he’ll just question and fight you. So you don’t explain yourself, you just let him work through his emotions alone.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

The word echoes through your mind as Lando just nods. Without another word, you both turn back the way you came to return to his car. Suddenly, the chill of the winter night that you had avoided with banter and affection, seeps in. It reaches its icy hands around your heart and squeezes. Even though you’re standing right next to Lando, you feel utterly alone. It hurts for now, but you know you’ll find comfort in the familiar feeling once again. You always do.

Lando drives you the rest of the way home. There are few words that pass between you and not one smile. You have to fight yourself not to crack a joke or tell him that you don’t really want to go home. You wish that you could stay out with him all night, talking and laughing and smiling. But you can’t. Some dreams are meant to stay dreams, wishes meant to stay wishes. 

When he pulls up to your building, he tosses the car into park. It surprises you a little when he turns to you fully. His eyes are narrowed and searching. You know exactly what’s coming.

“So this is it?” He asks firmly, demanding an answer. Everything inside of you rebels against the end. You struggle to confirm the worst, the words choking you. It’s been a long time since a goodbye was this hard. You’d let it get too far this time and there’s no one to blame but yourself.

“This is it.” You say, nodding your head and dropping his gaze. Nervously, your fingers fidget with the lip of your ice cream lid. There’s a few moments of silence that solidify your point. It’s not a choice; it’s a necessity. He’ll understand that in time and so will you.

Not being able to take another second of sitting in his presence for fear you might go back on your own decision, you grab your bag and push the door open. As you stand and sling your bag over your shoulders, you watch as he watches you. 

“Goodbye, Lando Norris.” You find yourself saying. Goodbyes are your specialty, so why does this one feel so unnatural? You can’t help but feel like you’re a fate from the ancient Greek myths, cutting off your own thread of destiny.

“Goodbye,” He says, the shears of fate coming to a close along the tie that connected the two of you. 

You shut the door and turn your back on the car. Every single step away feels like a hike up a mountain. A personal sort of gravity tries to yank you back towards him. It would be so easy to fall into his arms, into a kiss that you’ve been dreaming about since you first laid eyes on him. 

Instead of giving into ease, you cast one last look over your shoulder before hiking the rest of the way to your apartment.

The eternal feeling of never again settles into your bones.

—

Sitting at your desk, you lean your cheek against your fist. It’s Monday and you’re, unfortunately, sitting in your office at work. Today’s agenda consists of going through the thousands of photos you took at the charity gala. The part you aren’t so in love with about being a photographer is having to go through the tedious work of selecting the best few photos out of a massive sum. It’s monotonous and tiresome after a few hours and you still have a few hundred more to just look through before you even start editing. 

Sighing loudly, you toss yourself back in your chair. You’ve been sitting here for too long and you’re starting to get antsy. You need a change of pace. 

With your laptop in hand, you waltz into the break room to grab a snack before walking yourself to the stairs. Swift steps carry you all the way up to the roof. Some fresh air sounds like exactly what you need. You wedge the door stop between the frame and the door before carefully propping it open just a crack. Getting locked out would be highly embarrassing. 

It’s an unusually nice day for late December, the sun poking out through the clouds and the wind nothing but a small breeze. You beeline for the spot on the edge of the roof that connects to the stairway building. It blocks the wind and gives you a great view of the city. 

You sit on the edge of the roof, leaning back against the brick wall that encloses the stairway. Your legs dangle freely over the side of the building while your eyes slip over the Monaco skyline. It’s late in the day and the streets are starting to fill with post-work day traffic. Closing your eyes, you listen to the loud hum of city life. 

After a few moments of indulging yourself, you crack open your eyes to begin working again. Firing up your laptop, you resume searching through your photos. But, something in the top corner of your screen makes you stop your scrolling. It’s a little blue folder that you’d made earlier today. On a whim, you collected all the photos that you took of Lando and put them into a folder. A few were actually really great shots that might end up being used in the gala piece. Others that you took weren’t anything special to an outsider.

But, to you, they meant more.

Your heart still carries the dull ache of your night spent together. His smile and laugh still float across your memory. Frequently, you think of him, of his touch. Every part of it was so slight, but it felt perfect. Small moments coalesce into a memory that won’t be soon forgotten. It’s not let you stop thinking about him, constantly opening up the “LN” folder you now have saved on your laptop just to relive it. You find yourself again daring to wonder if this would be the first and last time you would see him. It’s completely out of character for you. Everything about him and this situation is unnerving.

Part of you is unable to let go of him as you have done with everything else in your life. Staring at the photos of Lando, your mind starts to formulate a plan. Jokingly, he asked you to send him that photo that you took from behind him. There are several photos, but your personal favorite is when he started to turn towards you. His profile was captured, exhibiting his nose and lips perfectly. His neck is strained, causing his muscles to pop. And his hands, his gorgeous hands are tucked so neatly behind his back and clutching that champagne glass so perfectly that you can’t not admire them. 

Tossing your other work to the back burner for a minute, you open up your editing application and go to work fixing up a couple of things on the photo. When you’re finished, it’s a glorious black and white picture that makes him glow like a sunspot. Appreciating your own handiwork, you save the photo under a new name into the same folder. 

Without a second thought, you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts before finding the right one. Your call to the PR department is answered within seconds. One of the girls you know who works answers and introduces herself. You greet her warmly before getting down to business.

“I need the address of one of our PR recipients.” You say into the receiver.

“Sure,” She says happily, the small noise of a clicking keyboard can be faintly heard in the background. “What’s this for?”

“I had a request for a print to be mailed to him.” You tell her a half truth, not wanting to get in trouble with anyone. “I told him that I’d take care of it myself. You know how these guys can be.”

You hear her mumble in agreement. People who personally request specific prints from us can be quite picky about how things are handled. You know this little bluff will help you streamline the process of getting Lando’s address.

“What’s the name?” She says. 

“Lando Norris,” You hum to her sweetly, not wanting to jeopardize your mission. The other end falls silent while she goes about looking him up. Your breathing is uneven and slightly nervous. It’s not your first time toeing the line, but bending the rules never fails to get your blood pumping. You love it.

“Found him! Emailing his info to you now.” She says in her sing-song voice. You fist bump the air in success.

“Thank you!” You say before ending the call. The email pops up on your laptop screen immediately. Wasting no time, you open up the application and favorite the email so it won’t get lost. Then you start to compose an email of your own. Scribbling down a few things and uploading the photo, you send it off into cyberspace.

Once more, you scroll your contacts until you find the name of a friend who works in printing. You ring him while chewing on your nails.

“Hello?” He answers, the whir of machines is loud enough to make you strain to hear him properly.

“Michael! Could you do me a favor? I have a guy I need to get a print to ASAP.” You chirp into your phone.

“What do you need?” He sighs, sounding far away and distracted.

Smiling to yourself, you give him the specs. You wanted a large canvas, matte print. Nothing too crazy, definitely doable on a tight schedule. He confirms what you need by repeating it back to you and then lets you know that he got your email. 

“Pick it up tomorrow.” He says shortly before hanging the phone up. You make a mental note to pick up an extra coffee for Michael tomorrow as a thank you.

Happily, you go about finishing your work for the day. You can hardly wait to return to work tomorrow to get your gift sent off to Lando. He’s an international address, so the sooner the better.

You’re a little unsure if this is a good idea. Reaching out to him this way is dangerous. It opens doors that you’ve already shut tight. There’s no closure to be had because everything is already done. There’s no point in exploring this any further because there’s no future here. The only future you have interest in is where you’re going next. 

But, there’s still this pull to make contact again, even in just a small way. It doesn’t mean anything. At least you have to keep telling yourself that until you believe it.

When you finally feel like you’ve hit a good place to pause for the night, the sun has already set and the cool winter night has wrapped up the city in front of you. Sighing, you take a minute to enjoy the brisk chill of the season. Part of you wishes for snow, but the more rational part of you is glad for clear roads. 

The trip down the stairs and to your desk is quiet. The office has been all but deserted, leaving only you and a couple night-owls waiting to call it a night. You make your way to your cubicle, ready to get out of this place for today. Slipping your laptop into your bag, you check over your desk to make sure you have everything. Right before you leave, you scribble on a sticky note to remind yourself to pick up Lando’s print in the morning. It seems useless though because you don’t think that you would ever forget. Once you have it pasted on the corner of your monitor, you turn tail and leave the office in the dust.

Bursting out into the cool Monaco night, you can’t help but feel a little more alive when you escape the office. A deep breath fills your lungs as you make your way over to your bike. It’s the last one in the stand. You unlock it swiftly, mount it, and head off towards your apartment.

The streets of your city are starting to fill once more. Nightlife in Monaco is stretching its arms and blinking its tired eyes. From afar, you watch the expensive cars and people line the streets. There’s no better place to people watch. As you fly by on your bike, you catch only the sped up version. It reminds you of your night with Lando. At this point, everything reminds you of the short time you spent together. Your heart aches to return to that night, to feel the warmth you’ve been missing since you left him in his car in front of your apartment. 

It pains you to stop at the grocery store that you and Lando visited, but you need something to eat. This has become somewhat of a nightly ritual, grabbing food on your way home from work. It’s like a tiny adventure to end your day. But since this place is now tainted with the memory of Lando, it feels less joyful and a lot more melancholy. 

Grabbing some supplies for a sandwich and your favorite drink, you decide that’s sufficient for tonight’s meal. Just as you’re about to pay the cashier, which you’re infinitely glad isn’t Anton, something across the shop catches your eye. It’s a small kiosk of brightly colored cards. They’re postcards. They must have just put them out because you haven’t seen them yet. A small smile breaks across your face as you ask the cashier to give you another minute. 

Postcards have always been a little obsession of yours. When you bounced around from place to place as a kid, you would always grab a postcard from wherever you ended up. There’s something comforting about carrying a little piece of everywhere you’ve been with you. You left lingering pieces of yourself in those places, so it seems only right for you to return the favor. The symbolism is painfully applicable to you and Lando. There’s a piece of you that will always live for him.

Carefully, you select two postcards before rushing back to pay for all of your things.

With revitalized fervor, you bike the rest of the way home. You tie up your bike and bound into your apartment building. Once you enter your apartment, you carelessly sling your backpack onto a chair while plopping the grocery bag onto the counter. You snag a pen from the side pocket of your bag and fish out the postcard you specifically chose for Lando from the grocery sack.

With a small smile on your face in spite of yourself, you write him a brief note on the back of the card. As your pen glides across the surface, your plan lurches into action. 

Little do you know just how far this game will go.

—

Lando leans against the door of his apartment with his eyes closed. He’s finally returned to Woking after a much needed holiday to some remote island in the middle of nowhere. As much as he loves to vacation (and trust that he really loves vacation, all the girls and parties and days laid out on the beach), he’s glad to be home. He was distracted the entire time he was away, and not in the way he intended. His thoughts were focused on something that was gone and lost: you. No matter what he tried, he just couldn’t shake the memory of you. There was something there, something worth pursuing. But you had said goodbye in a way that made it clear he would never see you again.

His head throbs as a tension headache spreads through his temples.

Plopping his bag down in the foyer, he promises himself to take care of it later. Right now, he just needs to find his lovely bed. His eyes search around his apartment in awe, wondering if it has ever felt this good to be home again. Maybe he can find real solace here.

He stops looking around when his eyes land on an oddly shaped package. The logo on it is familiar. Remembering suddenly that it’s the publication that hosted the gala a few weeks ago, he grows hopeful. Maybe it’s from you.

Memories from that night flash into his mind for the thousandth time. The first time he saw you, drawing your camera down from your face after sneaking pictures of him, he knew that he’d never seen a more beautiful woman. He was even more impressed by the fact that you weren’t mortified that he’d caught and teased you about photographing him. Instead, you teased him right back. It made his heart race. You made his heart race. Every part of you was perfect to him–the way you laughed and smiled, the way you looked in that dress that hugged your body just right. He loved the way you spoke. You were unafraid in a way that he’d never seen. Attractive doesn’t even begin to describe you. You were all encompassing, a force of nature that he was in awe of. Meeting you was one of the best and worst moments of his life.

Embarrassment crashes down over him. After spending time together, you had said goodbye in a way that was so final. There would be no reason for you to reach out to him by sending a package. His hope extinguishes. 

Striding over to the package anyway, he scoops it up to bring it into the kitchen. He cuts through the packing tape carefully before prying the cardboard open. When it falls away, he’s met with something large and wrapped in protective paper. There’s a card taped to the wrapping, his name etched onto the front. With gentle fingers, he peels it off and tears open the envelope. The postcard that he pulls out is a photo of large white ships on stunning blue water with “Monaco” written in orange. The orange is a near perfect match to the papaya of McLaren. Flipping the postcard over, he takes in the minimal writing scribed onto the card. 

Heard you’re a big fan of an ass pic. Hope you enjoy.

Your name is written next to the short message with a couple of decorative little hearts. Lando’s face lights up as he reads over the words again and again. You sent him this. His thumb traces over your name before he whispers it aloud to only himself. Desperately, he wishes to see you again. There’s a deep ache in his chest that hasn’t left since you said goodbye.

Setting the card down with care, he then begins to unwrap the gift. When he sees a stellar black and white photo of himself at the gala, he can’t help but grin. He’s turned away from the camera, his slender back on display. It must be one of the photos you took when you were joking with him about his ‘good side.’ The memory makes a flame flare up in his chest. He really hopes that you were checking him out when you snapped this particular shot. This is better than he could have ever hoped for. For a minute, he just admires the photo of himself. He looked good. You were one hell of a photographer. He didn’t realize something so simple could be so cool or done so well.

Setting the canvas down, he looks back and forth between the postcard and the photo. You’d set aside time to do this for him. The hope that he’d been trying to kill since he saw you glance over your shoulder at him before disappearing into your apartment building flares to life with fortified strength.

He’d been too afraid that night to make his feelings known and he’s been kicking himself for it ever since. A million and one ways of running after you have crossed his mind since that night. For all of his thinking and wishing, he hasn’t done anything about it. But you have. Maybe the goodbyes that passed between you weren’t as final as they once seemed. In this new light, he sees your shared farewells deteriorating. Doors once closed are starting to crack open. He’s determined to make the most of it.

He’s determined to get you.

[postcard #1]

[thelovelyruin]

𝖘𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖊.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : yandere choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : choso fell in love with you freshman year and it was finally time to make you his.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, love, manipulation, murder (not you!)

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 7.1K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from saccharine by jazmin bean.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! this was a request i’ve been working on for a while lol; i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

Everything you do, I'm obsessed with you.

“Exciting, isn’t it?”

“Huh? I mean, yeah it’s cool.”

“Are you rushing too? I really wanna go Kappa!”

“That’s, uh, aren’t they kinda…”

“What, cunts? Yeah, I’d fit in nicely.”

When Choso first met you during rush week a couple years ago, you were an aspiring freshman looking for a sorority to pledge to, and he was a normal guy. Sorta. You’d spoken to him once and he became absolutely in love with you. Not like he hadn’t been with other girls in the past, a few relationships here or there. But you were different. Not like any other girl he’d seen. You hadn’t shared too much with him that day, but he was determined to figure out, well, everything about you.

I don't mean to scare, but you're just so cute.

It started with your name, which he’d simply just asked someone in your class. But then, Choso needed to know more, when was your birthday, were your zodiac signs compatible? He’d gotten that information from stealing your campus ID out of your purse while you two were in class together. Choso was paying really good attention to other things too though. He’d paid attention to your screen while he sat behind you, online shopping when you were supposed to be paying attention to the lecture. That’s how he found out what size you were and the brands you liked, but other things got a little trickier. He noticed the way you did your makeup, it was always so pretty, but it’s not like he knew what any of it was, so he’d slowly started stealing things out of your makeup bag. It was harder to get your perfume, though, until you reapplied it on the campus lawn one day. Pink sugar, huh? Sweet just like you. Choso wanted to be even better, he’d send you flowers with no receipt of who sent them, an array until he found your favorites. He’d pay for your food when you went out to eat, then leave to remain anonymous. He just loved seeing that smile on your face whenever he surprised you with something, always grateful, looking around to see if you could catch your secret admirer, but blushing when you realized you wouldn’t. God, you were perfect.

Lucky for you, you had actually gotten into Kappa. You walked around on this high horse though, one of those kiss-my-ass kind of attitudes. Not like anyone was gonna check you for it, well, ‘cause you were hot. Always well dressed, always groomed, always punctual. There was nothing anyone could really say about you other than you being a bitch, at least never to your face. Little did you know, Choso was your bitch. If you ever even glanced at him, he’d almost faint, and as the sophomore and junior years came and you’d gotten classes with him, he’d go back to his dorm and fuck his fist at the thought of you every day. But now, it was Senior year, and he was running out of time to make you his.

Every move you make, you're fucking sweeter than a cake.

Choso originally planned to just ask you directly, but he had to make sure it was gonna be perfect. He couldn’t leave room for error in the possibility that you weren’t interested at all. So, he’d gotten as close as possible to you. It wasn’t stalking, it was just studying an interest. He was pretty good at photography, so he got hired as a photographer for school events, such as parties or games. He’d walk around and take pictures of everyone like usual to not raise suspicion, but whenever he could, he’d snap as many pictures as he could of you, slipping them into his pocket. When there was too much going on at the party downstairs, he’d sneak upstairs to find which room was yours, for research purposes of course.

Well, that research went directly to Choso knowing which window to take pictures outside of. You were so oblivious, often leaving your curtains wide open as you just got out of the shower, dressed in nothing but a towel. Now, Choso never got a snapshot of you naked or anything like that, but the hopes of the day he could got him pretty damn hard. He’d take pictures of you walking around campus, doing fundraisers with your sorority sisters, running for the pageants that you always won, with the exception of Miss Junior, who you exposed for cheating on her boyfriend so she’d be out of the running. So, you’d won that too. You were practically perfect, Choso felt you were made for him, there was a true possibility he could nurture and care for you, allow you to let your guard down a bit and let him someone in. He imagined himself taking you out to all your favorite restaurants, he had all of them written down along with your favorite menu items. Nights in his room cuddled up watching all of the movies you liked, you’d be so excited to see all of your favorite snacks already waiting for you. You’d wear that glitter lipgloss you loved, he’d make sure you had more than enough, considering he’d already bought two tubes for whenever he made you his. He imagined making love to you, hearing you moan for him as he pleasured you, then put you on his chest as you fell asleep, resting his eyes as he held you. You two could truly be in love. 

I'd love to wipe these other bitches out, so it's just you and me.

But, you had a fucking boyfriend. It’s not like he didn’t like seeing you with other guys. He fucking hated it. Choso thought the guy was pretty scummy, he had that douchebag personality and always looked at guys like Choso like he was a piece of shit. But that asshole was truly a piece of shit. Megumi, or something like that. Choso didn’t bother doing too much digging up on him because it wasn’t gonna matter very soon. You guys had been dating since the beginning of the school year, not very long, but that didn’t stop him from talking to other girls when you weren't around. He’d forget your dates, and make you cry. Wouldn’t post you on his socials, almost pretended he was single. Choso had half a mind to stab him to death, mostly because he didn’t like the way he treated you, but also because then he wouldn’t be in the way anymore.

Then, there were your damn sorority sisters. Those bitches were definitely in the way. They took up too much of your time, making you busy every day with planning and meetings, to do what? Party and maybe, fundraise? He’d see them sometimes talking shit about you, saying you were weird or a bitch, or something else that wasn’t true about you. Choso would never say those things about you or treat you like that. You deserved someone who actually loved you and cared about you, none of these other distractions. He would give you the world, but that meant getting rid of the world you had first.

Oh, oh, this shit is scaring me…

Now, when Choso originally thought of doing this, he thought it was a little nuts. It was a little extreme, sure, but it was just an obstacle in the way to get to you. Sometimes, we do bad things for the people we love. It doesn't mean it's right, it means love is more important. 

Choso originally thought of actually stabbing Megumi like he wanted to. That fell quickly when he really considered the situation. Megumi was on the lankier side which meant it would be more tactical to get a hit in, plus he’d need to find a time he’d be alone in a discreet location to hurt him with no one noticing. Not that he’d really care if someone saw, it would just mean he wouldn’t be able to live the rest of his life with you; that was not an option. Shooting would be just as difficult, shell casings and the sound of gunfire could get him in deep. Could steal the brakes from his car, but then there was the possibility you were in it when it crashed, and for that, he’d never forgive himself. He’d need something that anyone could have done, an accident perhaps, something that wouldn’t kill Megumi, just get him out the fucking way. Then he got a little idea.

Don't wanna stick my fingers in this, or I'll start to bleed…

“Hey, Megumi!”

“Do I know you?”

“Well, we literally live on the same floor, but um, no. Anyways, wanted to talk to you about something…”

“Get on with it.”

“It’s her birthday today, your girlfriend that is.”

“Oh yeah. Well, why the fuck do you care?”

“We’re kinda close, wanted to get her something, but I’ll be too busy with classes to give it to her. Do you mind giving it to her for me?”

“You got my girlfriend a gift, bitch? What the hell’s in this box?”

“Well, that’s kind of a surprise for her…”

“Get the fuck out of my face before I beat your ass. Leave my girl alone, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

Megumi had slammed the door on him, just like that. Usually, Choso would’ve been really torn by his insult. He was pretty pissed Megumi forgot your birthday too, but how could he be pissed, truly? Not when a sweet resolution to Megumi’s shitty ways was on the horizon.

“Megumi’s like totally dead!”

“Omg, what do you mean he’s dead?”

“Well, he went to the hospital ‘cause he came down with like a fever or something? Todo said he couldn’t even talk when he found Megumi in the hallway and his eyes were all watery. The doctors said he died of, shit, what’s it called again? Whatever, like he couldn’t breathe! I don’t know what the fuck happened, but damn, really sucks, ya know?”

“Babe, I’m so sorry. To be fair, he was a dick.”

“Yeah, you’re right. He didn’t have a big one either TBH.”

Well, shit. Choso didn’t mean to kill him, not really. He knew Megumi was a fuckin’ asshole, though. Paired with someone crushin’ on his girlfriend and his ego, Choso knew Megumi was gonna open that box. And what was in it? Initially, Ricin covered the inside of the box, which when inhaled, caused damage to the respiratory system, which Megumi could technically recover from. Choso had extracted the Ricin from some castor beans. The same castor beans that were crushed inside of the cupcake sitting in the box. All 10 of them. Originally, Megumi would’ve lived, had he just thrown it away and not have been nosy, and if he did end up giving it to you, Choso would be there to intervene and he’d deal with that explanation later. But Megumi chose to be a nosy bastard, open it, AND EAT THE CUPCAKE! It was comical, really, considering Ricin can’t be found in an autopsy, so Choso got away with it. It’s okay. It had to be done. That greedy asshole got what was coming to him, and with him out of the way, Choso was cleared to enact Phase 2.

It's sweet like saccharine, what I’d do to have you sitting here next to me.

A couple of days after Megumi died, you pretty much got over it, walking about as if nothing happened. To be fair, he was cheating on you all the time, lied to you, and overall treated you like shit, so it wasn’t that hard. What Choso didn’t expect was for you to get kicked out of your sorority house.

“Listen, babe. Your dead boyfriend is really throwing off the vibe here. Plus, it’s bringing a lot of bad looks to the rest of us because it seems like you honestly don’t give a fuck that he died, and truthfully, neither do we, but damn bitch, try acting like it!”

“Please, Chapter President, I can act like I care, I just-”

“Sorry girlie. You’re still a sister, don’t worry. You do have to leave the house though.”

Choso felt a little bad. A little. They really were bitches, but this was perfect. He’d just saved himself from starting a gas leak at the Kappa house when you weren’t home. He didn’t like that your feelings were hurt though, and he beat himself up about it. Choso himself wasn’t really a good guy, killing your boyfriend on your birthday? Almost killing your sorority sisters before they pretty much kicked you to the curb? He was doing the exact opposite of being a good boyfriend. He’d be on his toes from now on, can’t risk ruining his chances with you. However, it was all in good light. You were becoming more and more ready to fall into his arms.

Apparently, you pretty much kept to yourself and stayed in your room. Your classwork was slacking a bit, and you couldn’t live at the house, but that didn’t stop you from still trying to be involved, participating in some campus events, and fundraising with your sisters despite your exile. You were a normal girl, humbled for sure, but Choso didn’t like that very much. He never intended to break you down like this, while you were still sweet in his eyes, he knew you loved the life you had before. He can’t unkill Megumi, which wouldn’t make sense anyway because Choso was your boyfriend now, but he’d give you a life even better than the first. One where you and he were together.

Like cherry pie, will you be mine?

Now, Choso was a real sweetheart, getting you so many gifts for when you came along, preparing how he’d approach you, compliment you, fuck you. But he was getting a little impatient. At this point, it was already the tail end of courses before winter break so he didn’t have much time to see you every day, even though he’d make that happen regardless. Plus, all of the shit that had happened to you would wear off in a couple of days, so he needed to act now. Choso knew he couldn’t make you fall in love with him overnight, and it would be too hasty to try to take it slow with you now. So, he had no choice. He was gonna kidnap you.

Now, “kidnapping” is a rather strong way to put it. In reality, Choso was gonna come to see you and talk a bit, but if that didn’t work, he’d hold you at knifepoint and make you come back to his dorm with him to enjoy all of the things he’d set up for you! He would never hurt you intentionally, so it’s not like he was gonna use it, but he had to make you think he would. He wished kidnapping you was legal, why wouldn't he want to be able to love you and take care of you all the time? It’s okay, you’d learn to love him back. After all, Choso wasn’t your ‘maybe’. Choso was your ‘one’.

Sweet to the core, I want some more.

Choso decided he’d make his move on you the night of the last Kappa party of the season, too many people for anyone to notice him running off with you, plus he knows you’d look so pretty in your party dress, hair all done up, heels making those legs of yours look so pretty. And you did! Except, you were crying. When Choso got to the party and spotted you, you were sniffling as you walked out the back door of the house. Now, he had to be strategic about this, so he exited out the front in time to catch you walking from the back. When he’d gotten outside, he saw you walking down the sidewalk, but it wasn’t very well, your heel had broken and you were having to walk barefoot. He felt terrible seeing you like that. You looked so sad, so scared, just broken. Choso had to make things right.

“Hey, you okay?”

I love you.

I can hear your words breaking down my core…

You looked up at him with those beautiful doe eyes of yours, bloodshot and watery from crying, but still, you looked stunning.

“Oh, hey Choso. Honestly? No, I’m like not okay at all.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, my ex died and everyone’s making a super big deal about it. Like, people kept coming up to me asking questions and stuff like I was there when he died or something.”

“Oh, um-”

“Sorry, I know I sound like a twat right now, but he cheated on me like all the time! It’s honestly a long shot to say we were even together, not be cocky or anything, but I think he dated me to make himself look better. Plus, he got me in hot water with my sisters, like he’s haunting me after death or whatever.”

“Sounds like he wasn’t really a good guy…”

“Yeah, pretty much. Anyway, now I have to walk back to my stupid dorm with no shoes because I fell over like a klutz and just embarrassed myself to the nines. I don’t even wanna go back there, just makes me sad, ya know? I came out to this stupid party to get my mind off things and it’s like things are just bleh. It doesn’t even feel like anyone likes me anymore. I wish someone just loved me for me, ya know?”

I think about you every day at least a hundred times or more.

Choso walked up and hugged you, bringing you into his embrace. It was a bold move for sure, especially with the knife sheathed on his waist, but he just hated seeing you cry like that. Soon, you’ll feel how nice it is to have someone care about you so much. To have someone who wants to revolve their entire life around you.

“It’s okay. Know you don’t know me very well, but I’m here for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna be too forward or anything, but you can come back to my dorm for a few, that is, if you don’t wanna go back to yours.”

“That’s so sweet, thanks!”

Fuck, this was perfect! He didn’t even have to threaten to kill you! Choso offered to pick you up, which you happily agreed to, holding your heels in your hand as he carried you back to his dorm. On the way, you talked about a bunch of stuff you liked, mostly things he already knew about you, but there were a couple of new things that enticed him. You’d stopped crying, that sweet smile back on your face as you found comfort in Choso’s arms. He’d gotten back to his dorm fairly fast, not wanting to waste much time to get things rolling. He figured he’d start with telling you about his love for you, really seeing if you-

“OMG, YOU HAVE THIS???”

You pointed at the movie poster on his wall, one of your favorite movie. He’d studied it a lot, trying to figure out why you liked it so much. He’d watched it over ten times by now, buying the poster as a touch when you finally came, which worked!

“Yeah, it’s a pretty good-”

“Pretty good? It’s like the best movie ever!”

“We can, uh, watch it if you want.”

“Yes, I’d love that!”

Choso was so lucky. Here you were, sitting with him on his bed as you watched the movie. You’d stop every few minutes and point out something about it you knew a fun fact about or laugh at the parts you’d seen so many times. You were so damn cute. You’d pretty much forgotten all of the stuff going on, able to just relax with him for once. Don’t you see how nice this is? How special things can be? 

“Oh wow, it’s getting late. Shit, I still have to walk back.”

Just like that, the movie was over. You looked tired, not just physically but mentally too. You couldn’t leave though, that’s not how this was gonna go.

“Are you sure you’re good to walk?”

“Whatcha mean?”

“I mean, your heels are broken and it’s too dark outside to be out there by yourself. Something could happen to you.”

Fuck, Choso was a little too bold with that last part. He was probably coming on too strong, he’d need to fix-

“You’re worried about little ‘ol me?”

“Something like that…”

YES. He was so fucking worried that sweat was about to drip from his face, red with anxiousness that the love of his life was about to leave him behind.

“Well, you could always walk with me. Or do you just wanna spend more time with me?”

You gave him a little smirk and wink, it went straight to his dick as he tried to think of a way to respond.

“I, um… yeah, I would.”

Your answer to his statement would be the deciding factor between you staying or him picking up that knife from his jacket on the chair. Fortunately for you, you smiled and put your things back down, sitting on the bed as you looked up at him.

“Fine, but we’re gonna watch another movie. Your pick this time.”

You make me afraid, come closer, wait no, go away…

Ten minutes into this movie and he felt like he was gonna fucking explode. This time around, you’d gotten closer to him. Instead of sitting at the end of the bed, you laid beside him, not quite touching you, but he could definitely smell you, and fuck, you smelled so good. It was becoming painful to not touch you, but he couldn’t risk fucking this up. You looked so nice like this, chest moving up and down as you laid comfortably, eyes low, obvious you were getting tired. 

“Hey, Choso?”

“What’s up?”

“Thanks for, ya know, being nice to me. I’m not anyone’s favorite these days…”

You looked so sad, but Choso couldn’t be happier. You were starting to recognize the only person who really cares about you is him!

“Yeah, but you’re my favorite.”

“Really? But, you barely know me.”

Choso actually knew you very well. Probably better than you know yourself.

“You’ve just got that type of personality that’s really easy to like, is all.”

You sat up now and looked Choso in the eyes, making him blush instantly.

“Oh yeah? So, you like me?”

Choso started stuttering and sweating, flustered beyond reason as you gave him one of those smirks. At this point, he didn’t even have to tell you. His body language was more than obvious.

“I was just kid-”

“Yes, I mean-”

You both looked at each other in shock. Why the fuck would he say that? You were fucking joking. Choso was stupid to think you were serious, not like he really had any chance with a girl like you. But that’s okay. He was gonna make one. Although, he didn’t know whether to love or hate you right now, most likely both. You looked up at him optimistically, like you were waiting on his response, but also blushing a bit as he nearly popped a blood vessel in front of you. He couldn’t even speak, choked up on his words as you brought your hand on top of the one he had leaning on the bed.

“Tell me, do you?”

“I do, for a while now.”

“So, why not ever talk to me?”

“Because you’re pretty hard to talk to.”

“How’s that?”

“You’re usually, um-”

“A bitch? Yeah, I am. But these past few weeks have humbled me.”

Choso wanted to laugh a little. Of course, it was because of him and the precautions he’s put in place for you two to end up together. You didn’t need to know that part though. You looked down, that same broken look you’d been putting off all night. Everything in him told him to stop, don’t be too hasty and he could probably get back to the plan, but it hurt him to see what he’d caused. It definitely didn’t help that you were crying again, bringing your knees to your chest as you fell into the realization of how messed up you felt. Choso pulled you into his arms, laying your face into his chest as he rubbed your back. You felt so warm, so soft, he didn’t want to let you go. Ever. 

“It’s not your fault. So, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“Thanks, you’re right.”

It was hard to feel like the bad guy when you were smiling at him, finding comfort in his words. You two were dangerously close now, eye contact had him feeling like a deer in headlights, while you remained cool and collected, like usual. That’s one of the main things he loved about you, despite all of the crazy shit going on, you still try to appear fine, but that was far from the truth. He’d be a shoulder for you to cry on, someone you could depend on and pour your feelings into. Give your heart to someone who’s worthy of loving you back and spending their every breathing second devoted to keeping you happy.

Saccharine, what I’d do to have you sitting here next to me. 

You’d kissed Choso softly, leaning in slowly enough to feel his breath hitch on his lips when he realized what you were doing. It was perfect. Your lips felt even softer than he thought they would, gentle and loving as you brought yourself closer, closing the distance between you. He had to get his head together, he’d practiced this part over and over again, and all he had to do was focus and execute it. First, cup your face with his hand. You smiled into his lips when he did this, allowing him to move to the second step, and bring his hand to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. You softened into his touch as he laid your back on the bed, opening your legs to let him on top of you. You were so sweet, moaning softly into the air as he began sucking the skin of your neck. Choso wanted to claim you, he’d finally gotten to kiss you and he needed everyone to know you were his. He sucked a little harder and felt ecstatic when you didn’t stop him, instead groaning as bruises began to flower on your skin.

“Choso…”

Shit, you moaned his name. It felt exhilarating, something he’s been waiting for for so long finally coming true. It lit a fire under his ass, coming up to kiss your lips once before he brought his lips back down to your collarbones, moving lower as his hand massaged your side. Once he’d reached the skin of your breasts, he’d stopped, looking up to you for the green light to keep going. Even though you didn’t really have a choice in spending the rest of your life with him, consent was still pretty important to him, so when you gave him a nod, he took off. Choso brought his fingers to the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head as you brought your arms up to aid him. God, you were beautiful. Your tits were on full display to him now, nothing covering you but a lacy pink thong. He was gonna start hyperventilating, your tits lifted as you breathed, nipples calling out to him like they needed saving. He brought his lips down swiftly and wrapped his tongue around one of them, immediately putting the other between his fingers to pinch as the rest of his palm massaged your breast. You started whimpering for him now, touch-starved since your boyfriend died, but Choso hoped it was also because he was doing things better than anyone you’d been with before. He alternated his mouth, groping and sucking as much as he could, relishing in the feeling of your tits in his face for the first time. As much as he could stay there all day, he knew you needed more, so he kissed his way down your stomach, lips grazing your pantyline. Choso sucked the skin of your stomach as you bucked your hips against him, turned on as he took care of you.

“Choso, please…”

He looked up into your eyes as he brought his lips off your body, fingers hooking into the fabric of your thong as he pulled them off of you. Holy fuck. You were soaking wet, lips glistening with your juices as your hips shifted slightly to invite Choso in. Without hesitation, he brought his lips down to your pussy, beginning to devour you. You tasted amazing, drinking the nectar of a fruit long awaited and it almost made him regret not planning to kidnap you sooner. You smelled so fucking good too, your pussy engulfing all of his senses as he ate you like his last meal. Your fingers found their way into his hair, moaning his name into the air with every lick of your clit. Sideways, up and down, circles around your bud, anything he could to hear you moan for him, to make your pain go away. He’d brought your legs over his shoulders and rested his hands under the arch of your back, angling your hips so he could eat you exactly how he wanted. Messy and slow, he took his time spreading your juices all over his face as you panted and pulled at the sheets. He was self-indulgent, tongue pumping in and out of you as he lived out his fantasies of eating your pussy.

“Choso…I-I…”

Shit, you were close. Choso was about to make you cum! He doubled down immediately, bringing his arms over your thighs to keep you in place as you felt your orgasm approaching. He’d picked up his pace too, tongue moving at a hungry pace as he anticipated your cum in his mouth. The hand you had in his hair gripped tighter, Choso taking it as a cue to bring his lips up and suck your clit, suction bringing your bud against his tongue. You came fast and hard, grinding your pussy against his face as you came for him, his name slipping off your lips over and over as you rode out your high.

You’re sweet to the core. 

You looked so pretty for him, chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. Choso slowly kissed his way back up your body, lips finding themselves on yours. This kiss was different from before, more intense and confident. At that point, you’d already started unbuckling his jeans, kissing him feverishly as you helped him take his clothes off. Hovering over you, he looked at you in awe. Legs on either side of his, big doe eyes looking up at him, waiting for him to fuck you.

“Holy shit…”

Your hands found his hair, gripping and tugging at it as he slipped in at a slow pace. Choso took his time, exploring the walls he longed for the feeling of. Every stroke nearly sent him over, wet and warm, you were like heaven wrapped around his dick. You felt even better than he’d imagined, much better than his fist he fucked to the thought of you. Especially with how you were moaning for him, it was driving him crazy, all he could do was praise you.

“You’re perfect…so fuckin’ perfect…”

“I know…”

God, he’s never felt like this. You were sucking him in like you were made for him, holy shit, he was losing his mind. Touching him, feeling your warmth on his shaft as he fucked you faster. You were so beautiful, lips pursed as you breathed up and down, eyes fluttering as he fucked you.

“You feel so good, baby…”

“Choso…”

His name was killing him. He’d put in so much time to make sure he fucked you exactly the way you needed him, he had to make the first time perfect. A man that could care for you. Love you. Please you. Choso finally had you, and he was going to give you the fucking world.

I need to hate you before it's too late…

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby…”

Choso gripped your legs tight as he fucked into you fast, making you scream his name out into the room. You were doing this for him! Moaning for him! And you felt so fucking good wrapped around him, more than anyone ever before. There wasn’t anyone before you and there wasn’t anyone before him. Your world would revolve around him now like his revolved around you, every waking moment of being in love would be magical. 

“Choso, I-”

“Let me have it, baby. I’ve waited so long for it…”

He didn’t care what he was saying anymore, too high on you and your pleasure that he couldn’t think straight. If you were gonna cum for him, he needed it now, like his life depended on it. Something to signify the beginning of all of the pleasure he’d give you from this point forward.

“You know how long I’ve wanted this, baby? Fuck, I’m close…”

“That’s it, baby, let go, let me make you feel good…”

“So pretty, cumming on my dick like this…”

Choso was so fuckin obsessed with you. You came down like an angel, eyes fluttering as you murmured his name softly, body melting into the bed. He halted inside you as he came, losing his mind over the way your nails dug into his arms. You two lay there panting for a bit, Choso’s arm bringing you into his chest. So beautiful like this. He’d finally made it, you in his arms, right where you belonged.

Before I crave you…so please go away. 

“So, I’m not going back to my dorm tonight, am I?”

No, of course, you weren’t.

“Do you really want-”

“I don’t want to.”

Choso was shocked to hear your words. You actually wanted to stay here with him, he didn’t even have to scare you into doing it! 

“Do you have a T-shirt or something? It’s kinda cold in here.”

“Uh, yeah, let me grab-”

“No problem, I’ll get it!”

Stop it. FUCKING STOP. You were getting too comfortable, about to open Pandora’s box with your hand on his closet door. Choso should stop you, whatever it would take. By the time he’d gotten to the knife, you’d opened the closet, pictures of you all over the walls. Choso lingered behind you now, knife behind his back as he waited for your reaction. You just had to be so fuckin nosy, you’d ruined everything. 

“Choso…are these pictures of me?”

He gripped the knife tightly in his hand as he watched you look through them. He couldn’t even speak, heartbreak and murderous intent flowing out of him. Every picture put another pin in his heart. Photos of you around campus, through your dorm window, in class, all open for you to see. You brought your hand up to one, pulling it down as you looked over it. The picture he took of you on Valentine’s Day. You’d been sitting in class that day, sad because Megumi hadn’t gotten you anything, which Choso figured he wouldn’t. That’s why he had three dozen roses delivered to you on the lawn later that day, eyes brightening as you held them and read the card: “Happy Valentine’s Day, Princess. ~ your secret admirer.” You were so damn happy that day, so perfect. Now, you had to die.

“It was you, huh? All this-”

“Yes. It was always me.”

You pulled another one down, the one of you winning Miss Sophomore. Your face had the brightest smile, holding that crown on your head as you cried tears of joy. You smirked at it, cheeks blushing a bit.

“I look really good in this one, glad someone got a shot of it. So, you liked me this much?”

You’d turned to look at him now, giving him a confused face. Probably because Choso was sweating buckets. His hand shook behind him as he looked at you nervously, analyzing everything about you, any sign that you were scared or wanted to leave.

“I’d call it more than that.”

“So, why not-”

“Because I wanted things to be perfect. I wanted to be perfect for you.”

You gave him a nervous nod and turned back to the closet, pulling down a photo of you in your room back at the Kappa house.

“How’d you do it?”

“I…huh?”

“How’d you take this without getting caught?”

You looked back at him now, a serious look on your face that told him he better fuckin’ answer. What was he gonna do? There was no point in lying to you, everything was there for you to see.

“I learned you and the other girl’s schedules to make sure everyone was asleep.”

“So, what else ya got? Pictures can’t be the only thing.”

Choso pointed to the top shelf of the closet hesitantly. You brought down the bin carefully, sitting it down on his desk as you opened the lid.

“What the fuck, Choso? I was looking everywhere for this lipgloss!”

You’d begun rummaging through the bin, picking up things in remembrance of when you lost them. A couple of hair ties, eyeliner, lipstick napkins. You acted as if there was nothing wrong with this, and it was making it really hard for Choso to read you. His hand alternated between wanting to drop the knife or use it, heart pulsing frantically as you tried on old jewelry of yours. Satisfied with your findings, you moved back to the closet, pulling down the other box on the shelf. The one with his gifts for you.

“Wait! You’re not supposed to see that yet!”

“What is it?”

“It’s something really special... just please, you’re gonna ruin everything!”

You shot him a concerned look and rolled your eyes, walking back over to the bed to take a seat. 

“Answer a couple of questions for me, ‘kay?”

“I-I…”

“Question one, when did this start?”

“...Freshman year, rush week…the first time we met…”

You looked at him surprised. That meant he’d been stalking in love with you for almost four years now and never acted on it.

Just confiscate you, my teeth are in pain…

“Question two, what’s behind your back?”

“Nothing…important…”

Choso was shaking in fear, so much so, he dropped the fucking knife. You both watched it fall to the floor behind him, your mouth agape in shock as he frantically bent over to pick it up. He couldn’t tell what was more awkward, him dropping it on the floor or him picking it up and sitting it on his desk like nothing happened.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU GONNA DO WITH THAT?”

“DAMAGE CONTROL.”

“FOR WHAT?”

“FOR WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!”

“YOU WERE GONNA STAB ME?”

“NO, I WAS JUST GONNA MAKE SURE YOU DIDN’T LEAVE!”

“ARE YOU FUCKIN’ CRAZY?”

“I’M NOT CRAZY, I’M IN LOVE!”

You scoffed and chuckled, stunned at his statement. Choso was bright red, on the verge of a panic attack. So many thoughts, so many mistakes, you knew almost everything now. All of the things he wanted to do for you, show you, give you, it all meant nothing now. Still, you sat there completely calm, aside from the fact the guy who just fucked your brains out was possibly about to kill you.

“Question three, this is an important one. Did you kill Megumi?”

“It was ruled a death from natural causes.”

“Yeah, tell that shit to someone else, did you kill him?”

Choso didn’t really care to hide things now, too far gone. Especially not how he got rid of that asshole you called a boyfriend.

“Yes, I did; and I don’t regret it.”

“How’d you do it?”

“I poisoned him with Ricin.”

“RICIN? HOW THE FU-”

“I put it inside of a box I told him was supposed to be for you.”

“Why?”

“Because he was a terrible boyfriend to you and you didn’t deserve to be with a guy who couldn’t even remember your birthday. Not to mention, he would’ve never died if he didn’t open what was meant for you, nosy fucker.”

“So, you were jealous? Most people would just beat the guy’s ass, you definitely knocked it out the park with that one.”

“Yes, he didn’t deserve to have you! He took you for granted when there was somebody much more fit to make you happy!”

“And that’s you?”

“Yes, just…please…don’t leave. Not before I make things perfect for you!”

You sat back on your hands, thinking a bit and bouncing your leg. Choso had said too much. Not only did he admit to killing Megumi, but now if you really did hate him, you could get him arrested too. Which meant you two would have to live apart. That was no longer an option.

“Even If I wanted to leave, I don’t think you’d actually give me the choice. Plus, it’s kinda…sweet?”

“Sweet?...”

“Yeah, never had someone like me this much, let alone kill my boyfriend to get closer to me.”

“So, you’re not mad?”

“No, not really. Well, maybe for planning to stab me. Not like I can make you untake the pics, but I’ll need some of my stuff back. I’m more impressed than anything. I’m not even gonna ask how you got the Ricin or half of this stuff.”

Choso didn’t know how to feel, or how to react. Why were you so calm about this? Why weren’t you scared? Why were you still here willingly? He couldn’t move at all, locked in place in fear as he watched you get into the bed and turn on another movie.

“You gonna come lay with me or just stand there?”

“I just…I-”

You sat straight up now, looking him dead in the eyes as his body quivered in reaction.

“What’s your deal, huh? Didn’t you kill a guy to be with me?”

“Yes, technically, I-”

“So, be with me, Choso! Unless you’re just like a murderer or whatever, that’s kinda fucked up.”

I'm gonna break you before I can say…

Choso was lost for fuckin’ words. You were laying on his chest now, holy shit, he was losing his mind. Touching him, feeling your warmth as you finally relaxed. Everything he had done to get you with him had paid off. You were so perfect, lips pursed while you breathed up and snuggled your face into him. Just his sweet, sweet girl.

“So, the whole, um, thing…”

“What, you being fucking insane?”

“I’m not insane, just very dedicated to the woman I love!”

“Well, the way I see it, all my other boyfriends couldn’t stop looking at other girls, but you? You’re perfect, you’re already obsessed with me! Just don’t kill anyone else, ‘kay?” 

“I’ll try.”

I love you.

♱ the song used in this story is saccharine by jazmin bean. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

[jamsandsuch]

advice for first year uni students from a uni senior

the roommate(s) will always be more important than the room

+ for roommates, SET. CLEANING. EXPECTATIONS. EARLY. don't wait until you're uncomfortable with how much mess is in the kitchen for you to start thinking if you should bring it up or not. set standards and make them clear.

put your key on a lanyard and hang it from your doorknob when you’re at home so you don’t forget it on the way out

if your dorm has a shared laundry room, set your timer for when your laundry finishes ~5 mins early to give you time to walk from your room to the laundry - especially during weekends/evenings/finals people wont have the patience to wait for you - even if your load just finished

If you have noodle arms like me, buy yourself one of those collapsible grocery carts you drag behind you like a luggage - best purchase i've ever made

Or if you're lazy, order online - but order on a free day because even if you schedule a time they're always gonna come stupid early and you dont want any frozen items to get spoiled or have your groceries stolen

DONT BUY ANY TEXTBOOKS/MATERIALS UNTIL THE FIRST WEEK/CLASSES ARE OVER. sometimes you’ll have early access to the booklist or syllabus and go ahead and start buying textbooks, but increasingly often you’ll buy the materials and show up to class just to find your prof has uploaded scanned copies of everything. *save your money*, wait!

BEFORE SCHOOL STARTS - look at your class schedule and walk around campus to find each classroom. you will probably get lost on day 1 and so will many other students so this will save you a lot of walking around bumping into other lost first years

trust me after a few weeks you won’t be waking up for that 8am class. i know you did it 5 days a week in high school, but there’s a reason uni students are allergic to morning classes. know your natural energy/attention levels and take advantage of the freedom to build your schedule around your energy fluctuations

compress/stack your class schedule as much as possible. if you absolutely do need breaks, make them at least 1.5-2 hours long or you probably wont get anything productive done and minimize these long breaks as much as you can so you can just get your day over with sooner

work smarter, not harder - when school starts note each course’s assessment type by quizzes/finals/essays. if i ever have a course thats just essays, i only do lecture notes + write my own annotations about readings rather than taking notes on them which saves time i can dedicate to textbook notetaking for courses with frequent quizzes + finals

if your school has benefits/discounts/insurance - know what it is and USE IT.

most clubs wont be like high school where there are regular meetings you attend. unless youre in the exec team the membership fee you pay/when you sign up for membership it’s just for access to their events when they happen. if you want to be involved in a club in a way thats as involved as high school, look at their social media pages for hiring.

+ as someone who has had to hire before - if you’re nervous, literally just do it. i was in an exec position for our student union services and once only had like 3 applicants to pick from

if you want to be noticed by a professor, sit in the front row. and always answer/ask questions - it doesn’t matter if you said anything of substance or not, they will remember that you contributed

that and also always make the point to say hello and goodbye! eventually (in my experience) if you come early enough and are just waiting for class to start, a conversation will happen - make these regular enough and you could have an important connection!

disclaimer: of course, not all of this might be something that resonates with you/possible for your course or school, so in the words of my cousin - take what resonates

+ anyone else is free to add on!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

girls just wanna have fun 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, blackmail, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you're struggle to push back against your controlling father result in a misguided crush. (Silverfox AU)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

You bite your lip as you look at your reflection. The ribbed top clings to your figure, the razorback cut covers your cleavage but your lack of layers if obvious. If your dad was home, he’d freak out.

What the hell are you wearing? Put a bra on! 

You’re tired of telling him you’re an adult. You’re over his distrust. You’ve always been a good a daughter. What have you ever done to let him down? You kept your GPA high enough and your halfway through college. You're a hot commodity. Yes, that’s exactly what you are. 

You turn and push out your bum, running your hands over the curve. The TikToks might call it a glow up. It’s that classic era of a woman’s life when she comes into her own. When she fills out just enough, when she knows the power she has. Well, you think that’s what it is. You don’t know, it’s all still a bit confusing. 

Hard to be your own woman when you still live at home, but daddy pays tuition so you play by his rules. Well, it’s summertime and you don’t need to turn in a 4.0 to make him happy until Fall. This is going to be your summer. No studying, no lame ass book clubs, you’re breaking free. Well, you’re gnawing on the bars. 

Your phone buzzes and draws you away from your narcissistic revery. Before, you weren’t really into yourself. You wore a school uniform and your hair was always the same style, nails clean and cut, no makeup. Your coming-of-age at least let you take a bit more control over your autonomy. Your dad couldn’t really keep you from spending the money you made at your campus work study. 

Another text from Shelby. You don’t click on the preview. It’s worse to leave her on read than to just ignore the notifications. She’s a good friend but you think you’ve outgrown her. The last time you hung out, she just wanted to play MarioKart. You wanted to go out and do stuff but she hates public places. You’re no more fond of strangers but you wanted a bikini. You ended up staying in and ordering off Amazon. 

You put the phone down as the whir of a weed whacker sounds outside your window. You go to it and look out the pane. You can’t help the curl of your lips. You watch your neighbour trimming the edges of his lawn. He’s overly diligent about his landscaping. While many others hire gardeners, he’s certain to tend to every inch of his lot. 

Mr. Barnes doesn’t seem the type for half-measures. You like that about him. No, you love it. You feel giddy just watching him. 

You spin and lean against the wall with a sigh. You have a terrible crush. On an older man. For all the novels and movies you’ve seen, it’s a common trope, but that’s fiction and this is real life. You can’t lust after your neighbour. Especially not him. 

Just because you feel a certain kind of way, doesn’t mean you need to do anything about it. You can still dream. You can pretend when you’re home alone or at night when you’re lying in bed, unable to sleep. You feel a tingle flow through you and shudder. 

You get a bad idea. Nothing’s going to happen, but you just want him to notice you. Just a little. Just for a moment. 

You turn to the mirror again and touch the sides of your white denim shorts, slightly distressed for effect. You wiggle your hips and clutch onto your courage. You spin and flit out before it can elude you. 

You scramble downstairs and stop to push your feet into your slides. You stop and take a breath, centering yourself on your act. You pull open the front door and flurry through, squealing as you scramble across the porch and nearly tripping down the steps. You throw up your hands, shaking them as you commit to your act. 

“Ew, ew, ew,” you chant shrilly and the whirring trimmer stops. “Oh god!” 

You hear a deep breath and a grunt. You put your hands to your head and cringe, turning to look at Mr. Barnes as he squints in your direction. You turn your grimace to a sheepish smile and drop your arms, rubbing one shyly, certain to push up your chest with the act. 

“Hi,” you poke out the tip of your tongue, “sorry I...” you laugh at yourself, “there’s a spider in my bedroom. I panicked.” 

He nods and squares his jaw, shifting the trimmer as he grips it. He comes towards the low picket fence between your yards. You drop your hands and hook your thumbs in your shorts pockets, rocking back and forth. 

“Sorry, didn’t meant to bother,” you push your shoulders to your ears. His eyes twitch, barely resisting a skim of your figure. Instead, he looks past you to the long drive at the other side of your lot. 

“Dad’s not around?” He asks warily, his voice rocky and deep, just like you hear it in your head. 

You shake your head, batting your lashes at him. Him and your father don’t get along. Maybe you have some daddy issues but you really don’t care. He’s just so hot. His slightly mussed silver hair and his still toned arms. He might have some years on you but there’s no guys your age who look that good. 

“Working,” you pout, “he won’t kill them either. He just puts them out in the yard and they come right back in.” 

“Mm,” he hums and leans the trimmer against the fence, “want me to take care of it?”

Yes, I want you to take care of me. Focus.

You let your eyes round and push your lip out, “if you don’t mind. They give me the heebies.” 

“Heebies,” he repeats the word flatly, “huh.” 

He comes around the fence and lets himself in through the gate. You meet him at the walk and step in front of him, leading him up the front steps. You can’t remember the last time he came over. Not since he moved in. Yeah, his brief acquaintance with your father ended in a city prospector measuring the lots and relaying the property line. Oof, your dad still hasn’t let that go. 

You’re overly aware of him behind you as you climb the steps. You hope he’s looking at your ass. Those shorts hug it in just the right way.  

The front door is still open from your feigned escape. You step inside and habitually leave your slides on the mat. Mr. Barnes pauses and steps out of his workboots. 

“Um, it’s in my room,” you point up the stairs, almost shaking. You didn’t really plan this far. 

“Right,” he follows your direction and you stay a few feet back, keeping up your frightful act. 

He climbs the stairs and you tell him which way to go. He enters your room and looks around. Shoot. Your head is empty. Something about him just makes you dumb. 

“It was in the corner,” you lie, “it must’ve skittered off. Oh no! You think it’s hiding somewhere.” 

“Probably won’t see it again,” he shrugs. “Keep a shoe by your bed.” 

You hum and nod. Your eyes linger on the small vibe on your nightstand. Whoops. You kinda hope he sees it too. He faces you and clears his throat. 

“Eucalyptus or peppermint,” he says, “those will keep them away. Spray a little around your windows and door.” He points around the walls. He looks a little out of place among your purple walls and your fluffy aesthetic, yet not at all. You can just see him on your bed. You gulp as you realise he’s still talking. “All good?” 

“Uh, yes, d—sir,” you smile and clench your teeth tight around your near slip. Had you really almost called him dad? Oh shit. Yeah, that can just be tucked away and never thought of again. “Thanks for trying.” 

“Yeah, no worries,” he shrugs and moves towards you. 

You just stand there. He arches a brow and gesture past you. You blink and giggle, “oh, uh, sorry. Thanks again.” 

“Mm, I’ll let myself out,” he says as he brushes by you. Just the scent of his sweat has you flustered. 

“Sure,” you murmur after him, your heart fluttering. “Bye, Mr. Barnes.” 

You listen to him go and as the front door shuts, you spin and float over to fall onto your bed. You lay face down and groan. Ugh, that only made everything so much worse. You want him! You need him! You lift your head and reach for the vibe on the nightstand. Hopefully the battery in this thing still has some juice. 

[cherishmii]

STARBOUND !

INTRODUCING....!

𐙚 "Inazuma" Group chat members!

✩ ⋆ Balladeer: Scaramouche is a popular streamer known for his good looks and charming voice. His family is also famous, even His mother—Raiden owns The Inazuma corp. but nevertheless he stands out as unique. He's fearless during horror streams and always keeps his audience entertained. Often invited to host shows, this time he finally joins one as a host and meets an interesting girl.

✩ ⋆ Alatus. : Xiao is both a streamer and a model. He used to be an idol trainee but quit due to a bad company. Meeting Scaramouche, one of his best friends, changed his career path, and now he's one of the most famous streamers. They met in their first year of college, and luckily, Xiao found another loner like himself.

✩ ⋆ Barbatoes: Venti, the campus comedian, met the two loners, Xiao and Scaramouche. Venti loves hosting parties and enjoys drinking, but everyone agrees that his voice is truly ethereal. Despite initially getting annoyed by Venti, the three soon became close friends and were known as THE trio on campus—until Childe came along!

✩ ⋆ Tartagliajax: Childe, known as Mr. Worldwide, joined the friend group because of Aether. They kept running into each other while traveling, even during college. As the campus crush and a wealthy individual, Childe was part of a group called Fatui and brought Scaramouche in with him. They both left the group at the same time and are now among Scaramouche's closest friends.

✩ ⋆ Aether: Aether is the most loved member of the group chat. He originally wanted to be hired as a manager but now acts as a sort of manager-member of the Inazuma Corps. He was already famous before joining Inazuma, gaining recognition in every country. After joining Inazuma, he invited Childe to join as well, and Childe agreed because Aether and his college friend were both in it.

✩ ⋆ Kamisatoayato: Ayato is one of the most successful people at a young age, co-owning two corporations: The Kamisato and Inazuma. He gained fame for helping his younger sister, Ayaka, become the first talent at Kamisato Entertainment as an idol. He also co-owns Inazuma, where he provided funds to support talents when they first started streaming.

✩ ⋆ Rhinedottir: Albedo is a well-known artist with paintings displayed in museums and entries in history books. He also gained fame for his looks and knowledge in chemistry and science. Despite being an artist and streamer, he received a college scholarship for his exceptional intelligence. He joined Inazuma at Aether's invitation, where he gained even more popularity and began streaming.

In the field of online streaming, an introverted indie streamer, known for her quiet nature, has never collaborated before. So why now? Fans wonder why she avoids collaborations — is she simply an odd one out? When she finally accepts an invite to a show, unknowingly the guest host is a popular but grumpy streamer who often collaborates due to his company, unexpected sparks fly as she discovers the guest host might just be her future boyfriend. Nevertheless, things changed as they found out what she truly is.

✩ BACK / NEXT

★ TAGLIST (,,>ヮ<,,)! : rq still open!

@vxcmx @quacking-simp @sketcheeee @xionri @moonjellyfishie @raineyun @yuemirala @cheriswag

✩

> STARBOUND

Scaramouche x Y/N

[joinsuperset]

Transform Campus Placements with Online Platforms

Digitize campus placements with a robust placement platform. Explore campus placement automation software for seamless online campus hiring.

[jellogram]

Ok I am getting asked several times a day about this so I am going to break this down into steps and then pin this post.

How I Got a Job as a Travel Writer (aka the ten steps I took that eventually got me hired in the writing world)

I started writing unpaid for a magazine when I was in high school. I got a leg up because I knew someone whose parent knew the editor of an indie mag and gave me an email address. Unless you are lucky enough to find a connection like that, I suggest reaching out to indie mags and local publications to see if anyone will let you write for them for free.

Got a college degree (cultural anthropology)

Did an unpaid marketing internship one summer in college (it was at night so I could work during the day)

Did all the copywriting and marketing for a club on campus

Graduated in spring 2020, worked a bunch of dead-end jobs

Eventually ended up unemployed and directionless, lived off the government and savings and was generally lost and unhappy.

Decided I wanted a copywriting job but couldn't get hired. Spent months and months applying, never even got an interview.

Saw that several related jobs requested experience in stuff like SEO, html, Google Analytics, and WordPress. Took free online classes to learn those things. Also picked up some copywriting gigs from Upwork on the side to make some money and beef up my portfolio.

To practice WordPress and make myself seem more professional, I started a blog that functioned as a literary journal and published submissions from other young writers.

Found an opening at a copywriting agency and wrote some SEO articles on contract. This didn't pay enough to live on, but it was fun and made my resume way more impressive.

Eventually the agency work dried up and they didn't have any assignments for me, so I went back to Indeed with my new beefed up resume. I saw a job for travel writing and applied. I got hired.

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

That ASL Protest I was a part of, in '91...

That I wrote about here:

May, 1991: I was one of a couple dozen students at my university protesting to keep ASL as an accepted fulfillment of foreign language study (I remember we were trying to meet with higher-ups in the Languages Department, but they kept changing their meeting location; we were basically chasing them around campus. It was a bit theater of the absurd, actually)

Actually made it into the following Sunday's New York Times. I found it online when I took a stab at an Internet Search to double-check my memory. NYT requires you to set up an account and choose a password to read anything... And they've had a transphobic bias in some of their editorials.

So I copied out the whole thing, so you can read it here without supporting them (besides, I was there). Enjoy this story of my reckless (?) youth:

Campus Life: SUNY, Stony Brook; Sign Language: Foreign Or Merely an Easy A?

(Unnamed Staff Writer, New York Times. Sunday, May 26, 1991, Section 1. Page 45)

Students at the State University of New York at Stony Brook do not have to speak to fulfill their undergraduate foreign language requirement.

Stony Brook currently accepts a one-year series of American Sign Language courses to satisfy its foreign language requirement, but some faculty members are questioning both the policy and the quality of the sign-language courses.

Thomas Kerth, chairman of the Germanic and Slavic languages department, provoked student protests this month when he recommended, on behalf of several foreign language department chairmen, that American Sign Language be removed as a course that fulfilled the undergraduate requirement.

In a memorandum earlier this month to the Foreign Language Proficiency Committee, a university advisory committee on student requirements, Professor Kerth wrote that American Sign Language did not "fulfill the purpose" of the foreign language requirement because it was not foreign. He also said the course was an "easy A," which had caused its enrollment to "grow out of all proportion" while enrollment had dropped sharply in other foreign language courses. 60% Receive A's, Critic Says

Professor Kerth said more than 60 percent of American Sign Language students received an A. "This has led some of us to believe that the popularity of sign language has but little to do with the commitment to the hearing-impaired," he wrote, "and a great deal to do with the grading pattern."

In response to the memo, more than 30 students held a protest earlier this month in front of the administration building and gathered more than 1,000 student signatures urging the university to continue accepting American Sign Language for the foreign language requirement.

[Jumping in here with an aside: If I recall correctly, us chasing the Language Dept.'s higher-ups was in an attempt to deliver that petition]

"The professor is afraid of losing his job," Dane Spirio, a junior English major from Old Bethpage, L.I., and organizer of the protest, said of Professor Kerth. "He's afraid fewer people will take his class because of sign language's popularity."

Prof. Roman de la Campa, chairman of the department of comparative literature, called for "controls" on the American Sign Language courses. He said he thought sign language should be allowed to fulfill the foreign language requirement, but not in its present form.

"When you have hundreds of people taking a course, and over 50 percent get A's, there is a question," Professor de la Campa said. He added that sign language courses "should have full-time faculty who have a scholarly investment." The courses are currently taught by adjunct professors who are hired course by course.

Lou Deutsch, chairwoman of the Hispanic language department, said American Sign Language was not a foreign language and condemned the frequency of high grades in the class.

But Mark Aronoff, chairman of the linguistics department, said, "The internal structure of the words is similar to Latin, Sanskrit, Navajo or Eskimo."

Lawrence Forestal, a sign language instructor, said Mr. Kerth's information on the number of students who received A's was "exaggerated."

Mr. Forestal, who is deaf, urged the the University Senate's Curriculum Committee, which determines student requirements, to allow sign language students and deaf people to address the committee before a decision was made. "How can the committee set such policies without real knowledge of sign language?" he asked.

Charles Franco, chairman of the Foreign Language Proficiency Committee, said: "I can see both sides of the argument." He said the committee would have a recommendation for the University Senate by the beginning of the fall semester.

###

For the record: I remember a lot of people in my ASL class (Taught by the same Mr. Lawrence Forestal quoted here) admitted to signing up for it because they thought it was going to be an "Easy A." I also remember them complaining: "This is hard!" and "I don't get it." So... Y'know....

Also, Mr. Forestal was not only Deaf, but his parents were Deaf, and all his siblings. So ASL was his native language. That complaint about needing to be a full-time faculty, in order to have a true "scholarly investment" is just classist B.S.

[misc-obeyme]

YEAHHH JOIN THE SOLOMAMS TRAIN !! I am here to ramble, they make me crazy. I'm brainrotting so hard about coffee shop AU. Vibrating with ideas.

I never thought about Mammon owning the cafe, but hell that would be so cool!! Okay, okay, here's my thoughts. Mammon owns the cafe and works there, and also has an apartment directly above it (trying to decide WHY he owns it, maybe took over from Lucifer?? Bought the cheap building impulsively bc apartment, deciding it was a problem for future him to decide what he'd make out of the lower space).

People go mostly for him because the vibes are immaculate, everyone always leaves in a better mood. The college campus down the block has a rumor that if you buy a coffee, leave a good tip (specifically dollar coins or two dollar bills), and have an exam the next day, you'll always get a passing grade no matter what. Mammon works overtime during midterms and finals, business is booming.

Solomon is a college student (need to decide on a major) and comes at the exact same time every weekday morning, buying a danish (sometimes strawberry, sometimes ham and cheese) and a coffee before class, except on Wednesdays because he doesn't have classes. Mammon knows his order by heart after a month, but pretends to ask him what he wants while literally typing it into the kiosk. Mammon will squint at him, somehow knowing which danish he'll choose that day before Solomon utters a word. "Ahaha, why do you ask when you already have a danish boxed up?" "Who says that's for you, eh? I don't know everyone's order around here." "Not everyone. You're right. Just mine :]" "O-OI, SHUT UP BEFORE I CHARGE YA EXTRA!"

If I'm including my mc, I'm definitely working at a record shop a block down the street (my dream job)!! Records, CD's, small music sheet collection, buying services (trading and hunting down records is available for repeat customers, AHEM, Lucifer and Solomon.) Took over from the old owner because I visited so much as a teen, was hired as soon as I was old enough, and took over at say 22 ish.

HEAR ME OUT, Solomon who still uses a walkman. I think it'd be nice. He visits the store occasionally after class to browse, getting lost in the CD's. I'm imagining him having a massive collection, and having some rare items. He once showed up with a copy of something I had only ever dreamed of owning (once saw it secondhand for $800, he also had other stuff with him), and I almost jumped across the counter when he said he was looking to sell or trade for credit. "You look like you're simultaneously about to faint or attack me." "I can't decide which to do."

Lucifer loves collecting records, so he visits a lot, and uses it as an excuse to check up on Mammon (won't admit it). There's a collection of records kept up front that are deemed 'cursed' because they always skip the first track (Lucifer will buy one every month). Lucifer became a regular after I accidentally came across a rare first press edition of a record online and presented it to him because he mentioned it was a dream to own. He brought me a coffee and a croissant from his brother's coffee shop the next day to show his gratitude, mentioning it wasn't too far either.

Suddenly I'm visiting the cafe the next day, waking up early to have time before opening up shop. Almost die trying to order, because Lucifer did not mention his brother was hot. Successfully get my hands on another croissant, and a sandwich that was recommended. I don't visit every day, but when I do, it's always at the same time. Mammon grumbled something about trying to have my order ready before I got there, only for me to not show up some days. "N-Not that it means anything! I'm just tryin' to be more efficient!" "Well, I'm sorry I don't always wake up early! Getting out of bed is hard. If I had your number, I'd text you saying I was on my way, y'know?" "Y-YOU'RE ASKING FOR MY NUMBER?" "WAIT WHAT, N-NO, I MEAN- well.. actually, that wouldn't be... so bad? F-FORGET I SAID ANYTHING IF THAT'S WEIRD, UM, UH, SORRY, CAN I PAY NOW?" "... It's on the house. And uh, look inside the cup sleeve whenever you leave."

HELP I NEVER MEAN FOR MY ASKS TO GET THIS LONG, I JUST CAN'T STOP RAMBLING. The fact this isn't even everything, this is just the backstory. The lore, if you will. There is a plot !! Everything is connected.

- ✨ anon

✨ anon, tell me you're writing this story. This sounds exactly like what I do when I'm brainstorming a story before I write it.

And it's so good!!! I love every part of this!! I mean, okay, you don't have to write it if you don't want to obviously lol but I think it'd turn out really good if you did!!

I mean, you have fully converted me to the solomams train now, I'm so invested!!

I love Lucifer's role in all this and I LOVE that you work at the record shop down the street!!

Definitely living for the poly vibes, I wanna see what happens when you and Solomon show up at the same time. Poor Mammon might just have a whole heart attack about it!

Anyway, I love this. Please feel free to tell me more. I love coffee shop AUs so so much.

[octuscle]

Could I take DEL 2 suitcase?

Actually, you don't know what you would have expected…. What do you associate with India? Spices? Colorful robes? The gold treasure of a maharajah? You certainly didn't expect a suitcase that heavy. And full of strange boxes and ampoules. All labeled in a language you don't understand at all. What on earth are these letters?

Disappointed, you put the suitcase in the corner. No treasure of gold. So you have to try honest work again. But first you should finish your MBA. Otherwise your parents will cut you off.

While zapping through the TV program, you get stuck on a Bollywood tearjerker in the evening. Hey, you recognize those letters. They are also on the contents of your suitcase. And in fact, after a while, you find the tearjerker not so bad. Some of the actors look really hot.

You fell asleep in front of the TV. When you wake up in the middle of the night, the news from Delhi is on. The morning is already over there. It's getting close to noon. Drowsy, you listen to see if anything is going on. But only the usual reports of government crises and floods. What is wrong with this country. You fall into your bed and fall asleep immediately.

Your alarm clock rings at 06:00. You have to work a bit before going to university. You work in the first level support of a software manufacturer. Annoying customer inquiries. But well paid. And if you're lucky, you'll be hired after graduation. Although, as a Data Scientist you will always find a job. As long as you have your bachelor's degree.

On campus, you'll be drawn outside during your lunch break. The others avoid the heat. But 32 degrees Celsius is not heat for you. You're used to something else. You do a few pull-ups on the horizontal bar. It's time for a proper workout. Tonight you really have to go to the gym.

When you finally get home, you remember the suitcase. Some of the things are not quite legal here. But if you want to reach your goals, you need support. You pick out a protein shake. And take one of the L-carnitine ampoules. Why didn't you clear out the suitcase yesterday? You sort everything neatly into the cupboard and prepare your nutritional supplements for the next day. And you go to bed.

You get up at 3:00 am. Damn the time difference. But as the head of your startup, you have to attend one or the other online meeting in Noida. You hide your long hair, which you are so proud of, under a cap. When the call is over, you go to the gym for an hour. And after that, your hair is washed and groomed. But right after sleeping you can't show it to the public.

Good workout! Now you can show the losers in the lecture hall that they know nothing about data science. They may make fun of your Indian accent. But you are the youngest lecturer the faculty has had. And the only one who teaches in a tank top.

[avissapiens]

Jockbull Summer Final Week Set B (1/1/24-7/1/24)

Model Used is Oliver Forslin

The bulk of this set was a total wash ngl

1.

Started on a totally new training regiment. A modified Prebuilt PPL from Jeff Nippard (registered Shortstack big titty science bro). So im usually more honed in on that and I want to give myself as good a chance as possible with the new movements. That unfortunately doesn’t mean freeballing it.

2.

Ideally i’d like to work at my own gym once this is all over. Maybe get some of the richer high schoolers with Mommy’s money to hire me out so they stop training like morons. But it came to my attention that they already hired on 2 new trainers out of nowhere that i’d never seen before. So who knows. The alternative course would be applying at my University rec center now that it’s finally reopened. It would mean a massive readjustment of my schedule and soo much stress having to come in on days i don’t even have school. But it would mean a bit of extra security in income since the school would pay out of the Student’s rec center registrations. Plus, there are a fair few studs on campus. Not many since it's a research university in the middle of a city, but there are some. I suppose the final option that might end up blowing up in my face is leveraging the 4 years of hard community building work i've done and going into Online coaching. Combine the hypno spin with an actual plan to help dudes transform. I think that's pretty reasonable.

3.

Got a single one of these in on probably the worst day to get it in on. No sleep. Minor fever. House bullshit and an infinite amount of fucking stress leading on to the rest of the week. And then the next day realizing that 25 mins straight of decently high resistance cycling isn’t great for my fucking knees. Sighhhh. The relationship with cardio is so precarious.

4.

Same justification as number 1. This Nippard programme has Dropsets integrated intp some of the exercises and I want to stick to it fairly closely. It’s not bad, but the stimulus to fatigue feels so weird. I don’t get crazy pumps from it which is a bummer cause i’m FINALLY back on carbs and could swell tf up. But this workout tuckers me out and leaves me sore the next few days. Which doesn’t normally happen unless its for novel movements. Interesting state of things Mr Nippard. I shall keep at it for now but i feel like i got a better stimulus with my own designed workout.

5.

Speaking of being back on carbs. The first couple weeks of shifting from a heavy cut to maintainence again (roughly. I imagine i’m still in a slight deficit), is that your body retains more water again because of the new replenished thirsty carb stores. This means I look fairly soft, fairly round. Especially in my cheeks. SOooooo fewer pics taken because i would like to not take psychic damage.