#so I decided to wait until the full draft was finished

[tothelasthoursofmylife]

:')

[eomayas]

smoke break • jjk

pairings: non-idol!jungkook x f!reader

genre: fluff

synopsis: you accompany jungkook as he takes a smoke break.

warnings: smoking (jungkook)

a/n: been in my drafts for months so i decided to bite the bullet and finish it

following jungkook outside, you suck in a sharp breath at the biting, chilly air and wrap your arms around your midsection. the silk tanktop you put on for tonight feels like a bad idea despite the fact that you have a coat on, every inch of exposed skin arising with goosebumps. you marvel at how he manages the cold air in just a tshirt, not a a single raised hair on his tattooed forearms.

jungkook rounds the corner of the bar and stands in the designated smoking area, a singular dim light illuminating the side of the building. he pulls out his pack of cigarettes and puts one between his lips, letting it dangle out the side so he can pull out his lighter and shove the carton back into his pocket. glancing over at you at the sound of your teeth lightly chattering, the corner of his lip twitches before he asks, “cold?”

“it’s fine,” you lie. you don’t know why you do, but you do it. jungkook chuckles, the smirk on his face spreading as he cups his hands around the end of the cigarette and sparks his lighter. you watch him in mild awe, the steady pounding of your heartbeat slowly increasing as he drops his hands and takes a drag of the cigarette. jungkook tips his head back and blows the smoke upward and away from you, eyes closing for a brief moment.

you quickly divert your eyes when his gaze lands on you. it’s dark so he doesn’t see the way you flush, heat spreading across your cheeks and down your neck. you’ve only been seeing jungkook for less than three months, your relationship still new and not completely defined, and you still get nervous around him. he knows he has that affect on you and takes advantage of it; like right now, he lets his gaze linger on you a beat longer before smirking to himself and lightly shaking his head.

outstretching his leg, he gently taps you on the shin with the toe of his shoe, grabbing your attention. he blows the cigarette smoke up and away from you, eyes following it until it disappears into the night. “you said you had something to tell me?” he questions, a single eyebrow raised.

you wrack your brain for what you wanted to tell him earlier, mildly distracted by his mere presence, before gasping once you remember. “oh! you remember that one lady i work with—the one who i work next to? well, she got fired,” you say, quickly falling into the story.

jungkook is attentive as you talk, his full attention placed on you. he nods along with your story, only interjecting to ask questions when he feels necessary. for the most part, he just lets you talk, smiling at you fondly when you get really into your story and become much more animated than you normally are.

meeting his eye, you trip over your words and lose your place. “and she… she…” you blank, blinking at him stupidly while he just tilts his head to the side like a little puppy, waiting for you to go on. “she… sorry, i lost my train of thought.”

jungkook smirks at you and blows smoke out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. a small chill runs over your body, making you shiver irregardless of the fact that you have on a jacket. you’re convinced he likes making and watching you sweat; he wordlessly observes you for a few seconds, nothing but a smirk on his face and a cigarette dangling between his lips. “she was yelling in the lobby,” he offers, taking a pull from his cigarette.

it takes a moment for your brain to reroute and find its way back to that part of the story. “oh, yeah! so she was yelling, and our boss…” you get back into your story, breaking eye contact with jungkook for a brief moment in order to remember what came next.

jungkook watches you with a small smile on his face. each time you look at him, you quickly blink him out of your vision because it makes you blush, and by the third time you’re unable to take it anymore. “what?” you ask, face flushing in the moonlight.

shaking his head, he says, “nothing,” and flicks the ash off the end of the cigarette. it’s nearly a stub, shorter than his pinky. you look at him, lips parted, as he blows the last bit of smoke out of his lips and up into the night air. “it’s cute.” he murmurs, flicking his cigarette onto the concrete and stubbing it out with his toe.

“hmm? what is?”

“you,” jungkook replies, cupping his hands around his mouth and blowing his warm breath into them. his eyes never leave yours, and you’re positive he can see your blush despite the darkness of the night, because he smiles at you for real this time—teeth and all—as he rubs his hands together to bring warmth into them.

“whatever,” you mumble, but you’re smiling as you avert your eyes to a dirty poster tacked onto the brick wall behind him. jungkook chuckles and lightly pinches your cheek between the knuckles of his pointer and middle finger. you fake frown up at him, but crack a smile when he calls you cute again. “okay, enough.” you please, batting his hand away from your face.

“see: cute,” this earns him an eye roll, and you a kiss on the cheek since he rarely ever kisses you after he’s had a cigarette. “let’s go back inside.”

jungkook grabs your hand and leads you around the side of the building back into the bar, and you have the realization that you never got to the end or your story.

[lilacgaby]

Firstly I wanna say I love your writing and although I’m very new to your page I’m OBSESSED 🤩

This is my first request ever so I hope I’m doing this correctly. ANYWAYS- I was hoping for like an ice hockey au where it’s like bakugou playing midoroya’s team and bakugou doesn’t like the way deku is looking at reader in the stands even though bakugou and readers relationship isn’t public and they fight and all that good stuff.

Thanks I totally appreciate you! Hope you’re well and have a great day!!

title: iced out.

pairing: hockeyplayer!bakugo x girlfriend!reader

"he'll need an ice pack when i'm done with him."

note: my love you're so smart omgg, i loved this au! ty for the support i hope this is a good read <3

it was the match up of the season.

everyone knew of the rivalry between bakugo and midoriya, every match they'd have would end in shoves, bloodied noses, bruises, and cards called. the audience was thankful for the dividers that kept them safe from the confrontations that would always break out in corners, bakugo usually pushing midoriya away forcefully into them just to get control of the puck.

you were there at that match for katsuki after the matches, waiting outside the locker rooms to drive home. you knew first hand just how much he wanted to win against midoriya. he'd confessed to you how they used to be close friends, but after midoriya 'lied' about getting excepted into an overseas junior team, he had been ostracized from katsuki's life.

they hadn't faced each other since last season, the bracket hadn't allowed for it. until today.

you, katsuki's girlfriend since before he got drafted into a team, were pepping him up before the first interval. his teammates already knew about you, but the public didn't.

katsuki preferred in this way, he thought. saying "those damn publicists would shove cameras and mics down our throats if they knew." you didn't mind either way, the bile of jealousy at every woman who thought they had a chance with katsuki going away after multiple times of him cursing them out.

katsuki had never had to experience that though, not until today.

you were in the stands, the front row of one of the many sections in the rink. it was a full house today, but you stood out because of your limited edition jersey given to you by katsuki himself.

while the practice period was going on, he was calming himself down. his coach had told him that a clear head is all he needed to beat midoriya into a pulp, or something like that. 'easy shit.' he thought.

but like a shark who smelled blood, his pupils dilated severely as he saw him throwing a puck to you. you caught it, raising your hand to thank him and you let an appreciative smile, flipping it over to see his number on the back of it (how did he even write that?). at your shocked expression, he laughed.

and he had the audacity to make a phone sign with his hand after?

oh, he was gonna need to call someone once bakugo was done with him, he was sure of it.

the promise of calm was gone as fast as it came, an impossibly angrier katsuki coming back as he finished warm ups.

at the sound of the timer, katsuki played aggressive. the first 20 minutes was full of this mentally. he was rushing in and hitting, shoving anyone in his way. he 'accidentally' launched the puck into midoriya's helmet at the fifteen minute mark.

the teams managed to stay even though, but katsuki was scoring a majority of the points for his team. the only thing in his way was midoriya, like always.

midoriya, who kept his eyes locked on you while the puck wasn't in play. who kept waving to his fans, but sending winks to you.

katsuki had decided to murder him. or rather, his team.

he hit another puck in easily, already having the game be the highest scoring one in the league for the year. midoriya managed to match one up again, barely keeping on his heels.

the score was now 5-5, katsuki wanted to finish it in this interval. going into a sudden death overtime would just be too tiring.

they were tied again with only 2 minutes left on the clock. all it took was midoriya to eye you again, that was enough to spite bakugo.

with a minute left he finally got control of the puck, as midoriya got in his way. katsuki predicted a fake out, and sent the puck flying with a curve.

as the keeper missed, and with 3 seconds left.

he scored.

the arena cheered, the cameras caught on midoriya's smirk and small claps, the pissed off looks from midoriya's teammates, and the celebration of katsuki's team.

they had to play again to let the puck slide for 3 seconds, out of courtesy, but katsuki took a victory lap, looking straight at you.

the second he was free he walked straight through the rink, much to his manager's dismay. this caught the attention of the media, who had all eyes on him. he saw none of it, passing by fans without a care in the world as he grabbed your face and kissed you, making you drop the puck.

midoriya was seen with an 'ohhh' expression on his face as the rink went crazy, flashes all in your faces as katsuki pulled back, hips lips now smeared with your lip gloss. you two were on the jumbotron, and you awkwardly waved as the attention was focused on you two suddenly.

"didn't i tell you so? these losers are breathing down our throats."

"yeah, oh my god kats' your eye!" you gasped as you saw the bruise starting to form over his eye.

he wore a stupid smirk on his face as you fussed over him. his eyes squinted as he saw the rival team give themselves 'good luck next times' and 'we'll get em back's. midoriya in particular was being the captain as always, cheering up his team though occasionally looking back at you. katsuki sneered, he won the game and the girl! take that deku.

"why do you have that dumbass look on your face?"

"hah?! my face isn't dumb woman!"

[childrenofcain-if]

Hello beautiful Author!! I hope u are doing well! So basically I am a religious follower of your blog and uuugghh!!! This story is so beautifully crafted like the script the writing style the plot even the characters seem larger than life. Honestly u have my tremendous respect and admiration.... Also I am totally in love with cedric!! angsty adorable and hot. So since today is my birthday I decided to treat myself to a snippet ... Can u please write a fluff scene where in the future after marriage yk after C achieved his dream how would M!C react to find out that F!MC is pregnant. What kind of dad would he be and how would he handle the news especially if it's a girl. (PS: I love you okay? U rock!!! ❤❤😘)

the morning started like most mornings did in your household. the sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of your manhattan penthouse, muted by the heavy curtains cédric insisted on keeping drawn just enough to keep the room from feeling exposed.

he was already in the kitchen when you woke up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he frowned at his ipad.

it was a weekday, which meant cédric was doing what cédric did best: handling things.

the man could command a room full of board members or negotiate a multi-billion-dollar deal, but he always took his mornings slow, like it was his personal rebellion against the world which demanded his attention. the smell of coffee hung thick in the air, and you could hear him muttering under his breath—half in french, half in english—as he skimmed over some report.

he looked up when he heard your footsteps. the cold glint in his pale green eyes softened the way they always did when he saw you.

“good morning, mon amour,” he said, setting the ipad down as if the numbers and charts weren’t important anymore.

you smiled at him, but there was a nervous flutter in your chest that didn’t quite dissipate.

“good morning,” you greeted back, making your way to the counter. “we need to talk.”

his brow furrowed, just slightly, in that way that meant his mind was already cataloging possible scenarios. you wondered if he was running through a mental checklist: a problem at work, an overdue bill, a delayed package. he was always looking for answers before you even finished your question.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, voice low and calm, but his hand twitched where it rested on the counter.

you hesitated, suddenly unsure how to say it. for someone who had spent years speaking in boardrooms and drafting persuasive arguments, the words felt clumsy in your throat.

“there’s nothing wrong, per se,” you began, and you saw the tension in his shoulders ease—just a fraction. “it’s just... i’m pregnant.”

the silence that followed was heavy, but not uncomfortable. it was like the air had stilled, waiting for his reaction.

cédric blinked. once, twice. then he stepped back, leaning against the counter as if the weight of your words had hit him square in the chest. his mouth opened, then closed again. he looked—if you hadn’t known him better—younger. like a boy caught off guard, unsure of whether he was allowed to feel what he was feeling.

“you’re...?” he started, and then he stopped himself. his hand went to his hair, brushing the dark brown strands back, a nervous habit he’d never managed to shake. “you’re sure?”

you nodded, suddenly shy. “i took three tests. all positive. i was going to wait until we were both home later tonight, but—”

“no, no, now is perfect,” he interrupted, his voice sharper than he intended, like he was scolding you for even considering keeping it from him. he shook his head, and you could see the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “mon dieu.”

cédric laughed then, a sound so rare and so unguarded it made your chest ache. it was a laugh of disbelief, of joy, of sheer and unrestrained emotion. he crossed the kitchen in two long strides and pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly you could feel his heart pounding against your ribs.

“je t’aime,” he murmured into your hair. “je t’aime, je t’aime, je t’aime.”

you clung to him, laughing through the tears that had started spilling down your cheeks.

***

cédric’s reaction to the pregnancy didn’t end that morning. over the next few weeks, he threw himself into preparing for the baby with the same intensity he brought to his work. he was meticulous, obsessive even, researching everything from cribs to car seats. he vetoed three potential pediatricians before you’d even had a chance to meet them, insisting that only the best would do.

but it wasn’t just about the logistics. cédric was unexpectedly tender, in a way that made your heart twist. he read parenting books in bed at night, one hand on your growing belly as he absently stroked his thumb over the fabric of your pajamas. he brought you tea without being asked, stocked the pantry with your favorite snacks, and refused to let you carry anything heavier than a shopping bag.

when you found out the baby was a girl, it felt like the world completely shifted for him.

“it’s a girl,” you had informed him, holding the ultrasound picture out to him.

he took it from your hands carefully, as if it were made of glass, and stared at it for a long moment. his expression was unreadable, but you could see the way his fingers trembled, just slightly.

“a daughter,” he said, the words thick in his throat. “our daughter.”

you nodded with a small smile, watching him carefully. “how do you feel about that?”

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he set the picture down on the table and turned to you, his eyes burning with an intensity that made you shiver.

“i’m going to protect her,” cédric said, his voice low and fierce. “from everything. from everyone. she’ll never have to wonder if she’s loved. she’ll never have to fight for what’s hers.”

“i can already see it,” you teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. “you’ll be the dad who scares off all her partners.”

“damn right i will,” he said, his smile returning. “she’s going to know her worth. and if anyone tries to undermine that—” he didn’t finish the sentence, but the murderous look in his eyes said enough.

you leaned forward, cupping his cheek and drawing him back to you. “she’ll know her worth because of you,” you said softly. “because of how much you’ll love her.”

“and her mother,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

he kissed you then, slow and lingering, and when he pulled back, his hands settled gently over your stomach.

you reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “she’s going to be so lucky to have you.”

cédric shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “no,” he said softly, his gaze dropping to your belly. “i’m the lucky one.”

***

as the months went on, cédric proved himself to be everything you’d hoped for and more. he was attentive to a fault, sometimes to the point of driving you mad with his insistence on helping you. ehen the baby kicked for the first time, he was right there, his hand pressed against your stomach, his eyes wide with wonder.

when your due date finally arrived, he was the calmest one in the delivery room. he held your hand through every contraction (even when you almost broke his bones), whispered words of encouragement in your ear, and refused to leave your side, even when the nurses told him to give you space.

and when your daughter was finally born, cédric was the first to hold her, much to your father’s exasperation. he cradled her tiny, wrinkled body in his arms, his expression soft and awestruck.

“she’s perfect,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks.

you smiled, exhausted but deliriously happy. “she has your eyes.”

“and a head full of your hair,” he said, his voice breaking.

in that moment, you knew without a doubt that he would be the kind of father who would move mountains for his daughter. he would be firm but fair, protective but not overbearing, and endlessly devoted to her happiness.

as he rocked her gently, humming a lullaby under his breath, you realized that this—your little family—was everything you’d ever wanted. and as much as you knew about how cédric wasn’t very good at expressing his emotions, it was clear as day right now that nothing would ever compare to the love he had for the two of you.

[wcbblife]

Public love

Prompt (I accidentally deleted the ask sorry): could you do a short story about Paige accepting an award and telling everyone that Azzi and her are dating?

a/n: guys I'm trying to finish all my recent asks in my inbox I swear. Life's been lifin' all of the sudden and I barely have time to write so apologies for that. Got a lot of drafts that I'm working on rn.

Warning: Paige is a yapper. Some spelling mistakes (hopefully not). A bit rushed tbh

“You look hilarious,” Azzi giggled, staring at her phone screen where their FaceTime call was running.

“Thanks, Azzi,” Paige deadpanned, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. She wiped her palms on her pants, only for Brittany to swat her hands away, scolding her.

Azzi's smile softened as Paige protested, her eyebrows furrowing. “You know you don't have to do this, right?”

“Don't start with that, Azzi,” Paige's exasperated tone didn't go unnoticed as she wiped her hands on a nearby towel. “We agreed that today was the day.”

Azzi threw her hands up in defeat, her smile unwavering. “I'm just saying.”

Paige had underestimated how bad her nerves would flare up at the idea of stepping onto a stage full of legends, with cameras recording her every move, to profess her love for her girlfriend to the whole entire world to see. It had been a tough conversation, but Azzi had convinced Paige to wait until the season was over, when they were no longer teammates.

“I'll do it, just you watch.” Suddenly, the normal confidence Paige always had resurfaced as a smug look settled on her face.

Azzi could still see through the facade.

“Hey, you know it's already on in the living room,” Azzi said, flipping the camera to show the TV. It showed the red carpet, which was almost over, and Paige's panic returned.

“Gosh, I just wish you were here.” Paige set her phone in front of her, properly showing her whole upper body to Azzi. She looked stunning. The blonde hunched over, taking a deep breath. “It would be easier.”

“You know I would be there if I could, babe. Something came up.” For a moment, there was complete silence, except for the rustling of Azzi dropping onto her sofa. “Plus, I won't have like… a million cameras shoved in my face. Which is nice.”

“Yeah, you're right.”

“Alright, you two, we gotta wrap it up. Paige, you're up in a few.” Brittany's voice startled the blood out of Paige's face as she flinched.

Azzi giggled. “I'll get going. And Paige… just do what feels right when you get up there, okay?”

“Yeah. I'll try.” She cleared her throat. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Paige.”

______

Paige was totally not ready for it. As the awards passed one by one, she found it increasingly harder to stay still in her seat.

“Bro, do you have ants on your ass or something?” Aubrey chuckled, whispering towards Paige.

“Something like that.” Paige adjusted her suit, applying pressure to her chest. She felt like she was going to throw up.

“Seriously, you good?” From her other side, Ice whispered, her expression a bit more worried than Aubrey's. Even with the makeup, Paige looked pale as a ghost.

“I'm good.”

Aubrey and Ice exchanged questioning looks as Paige didn't even bother to glance at them, her eyes glued to the presenters.

The lump in her throat grew until it was hard to swallow. She tensed when her phone buzzed in her pants.

From: Azzi

You look nervous, babe. [Attached image]

Paige opened the image, seeing a picture of her on the tv screen, jaw clenched and eyes wide.

From: Paige

I look crazy.

From: Azzi

You don't have to do this, Paige.

From: Paige

I want to, Azzi.

Do you not want me to?

From: Azzi

Of course I do.

From: Paige

That's all the I need to hear then.

From: Azzi

I just don't want you to feel stressed or obligated.

Especially in front of such an important stage and audience.

From: Paige

Then it's decided.

“Hey!” CD whispered from behind her. “Put your phone away, missy. This isn't the place for texting.”

“Sorry CD.” Paige rubs the back of her neck, feeling a bit embarrassed to have been called out at such an age. She put her phone away and heard the next award being announced.

Best female college athlete.

Paige straightens up, silently thanking CD from snapping her out of her little daydream. They went through the nominees, teasing the winner before finally announcing the long-awaited name.

Paige Bueckers from the University of Connecticut.

The crowd burst into cheers as Paige let out a huff of air and made her way through the row after a few hugs from her teammates.

She shuffled through the rows and climbed to the stage, where she was met with a few hugs and finally her trophy.

“Wow.” She huffs, looking around the venue, “I would like to start by saying that it's an honor to be able to receive this amazing award for a second time. I can't express just how much it means to stand here after all the hardships thrown my way.”

Speaking to such an intimidating crowd, knowing there were thousands watching from their homes, never got easier for Paige.

“Second, I'd like to thank my family. Thank you for sticking by my side and being my anchor through everything. Without them, I wouldn't be standing here today. And to my teammates, who have been my rock. They were a force to be reckoned with all season, and it was thanks to them that we brought home a championship.”

The crowd hung on her every word.

“It's no secret the injuries that have plagued our team these past seasons and even me a few years ago. It felt liberating knowing that if I ever fell, they would be there to pick me up and I don't think I could ever express how much I love those girls and just how much they mean to me”

Paige thought of Azzi at home, watching her, and the basketball legends before her. She traced the lines of the trophy, clearing her throat.

“To my coaches, who weren't afraid to show me tough love, I appreciate you all. It made my time at Connecticut all the more enjoyable. To Geno, who didn't shy away from telling me how to be the best and how to make those around me be better. I’m glad that I'll be able to call Uconn my home for as long as I live because it's an honor. Whether it sounds odd, I thank God that I tore my ACL while surrounded by such an amazing family because I wouldn't have been able to bounce back in such a dominant manner."

It was now or never.

“One of the main reasons I'm eternally grateful for this program is because I was able to build a deeper relationship with a teammate who you all may know very well,” Paige shifts her hands, feeling them sweat again. “We went through the same injury, and everything was easier to navigate with her around because we just got each other and knew what we were going through. I want to thank her for her love and unconditional support because she deserves that and more. She picked me up when it felt impossible."

She chuckled. Paige had been on big stages many times, but this felt different. The ground beneath her feet seemed to shift as the blood rushed to her ears, muffling the sounds around her. Her surroundings faded as she locked eyes with the big camera before her.

“That's why... I would like to thank my amazing girlfriend, Azzi Fudd, in front of everyone here today because she deserves the world.” Paige hears the muffled sound of gasps and cheers. “So, because I know she's home watching, I love you, baby. None of this would be possible without you.”

Paige took a deep breath, feeling a crushing weight lift off her chest. It was done.

She smiled for the first time that night and looked away from the camera, addressing the crowd. “Thank you for this award. I'll cut my speech short since I know it's running a bit long.” Laughter spread through the crowd, but most looked shocked, especially her teammates. She lifted her trophy with a smile, realizing how little she cared about anyone's opinion. “Thank you.”

______

“Didn't think you had it in you,” Caroline said, opening the door to Paige's makeup room. “Seriously, dude. Getting up there and just saying, 'oh, and I'm dating my bestie by the way' is crazy”

Paige deflated in her chair. After her speech, she had been ushered away for pictures and questions and hadn't heard from her teammates. She hadn't even checked her phone which was undoubtedly flooded with missed calls and messages.

“I wanted to throw up.”

Then, as if on cue, Aubrey, Ice, and KK entered together. “Dude, what the fuck was that?” KK screamed, laughing together with Ice. “Huge balls you got there, dude.”

“Oh, shut up, KK. Like you aren't head over heels over your girl too.” Paige shot back, eyebrows furrowing as she checked her phone. KK and Ice burst out laughing, dragging Aubrey to sit on the couch.

“It's on Do Not Disturb, Paige.” Sensing the urgency, Caroline put a hand on her shoulder, pointing at the unmistakable symbol of DND.

“Thanks.” Paige mumbled, turning it off and feeling relieved as messages flooded in. Hundreds of notifications took over her phone, but she only cared about one.

“Dude, you're already trending on Twitter.” Aubrey showed her screen, Twitter opened, but Paige didn't bother looking.

“Oh, and the articles are already popping up,” Ice added.

Finally, after some searching, Paige found Azzi's message.

From: Azzi

Such a sweet talker.

I love you too Paige

From: Paige

You liked it?

I tried to keep it short but I think that was too little or maybe too much??

I definitely could've added more to it.

What did you think?

Paige stared at the messages, nervous to hear from Azzi.

From: Azzi

Hey, I loved it Paige.

You can always finish it when you get home to me

That validation calmed Paige almost immediately. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.

From: Paige

Wanna call? I could tell you everything now.

From: Azzi

Yeah… if I'm correct, CD is about to burst through that door any second.

Either that or every reporter that was in that building wants to hear from you after that declaration of love in front of the whole world.

Let's wait until you get to the hotel, okay?

Right on cue, the rest of the team entered her room.

From: Paige

Good idea.

Love you

From: Azzi

Love you too

[dilemmaontwolegs]

i know u have a gazillion requests but what if we spice up that Carlos fic? if you decide to do a pt 3. maybe Carlos is once again is frustrated because of the penalty after a good quali and has sex with Rebecca cuz he can't find the model. a lil angst

It’s no secret, I’m in an angsty kinda writing mood at the moment 😅 I also forgot who was meant to be the toxic one...and now it's both of them.

Lady in Red (3) || CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, cheating, manipulation WC: 1.5k

One || Two || Three || Four

You had been called away to work just before qualifying finished. You and half a dozen other models were asked to stand behind the top three drivers and wave feather fans for the cameras while an Elvis impersonator pumped out his signature dance moves. 

From your position you could see the frustration on Carlos’ face. He had qualified second fastest yet he was going to have to start from 12th on the grid. You weren’t the only person in the area upset by the 10 place penalty and the Ferrari supporters were making their opinion known as they chanted for Carlos.

“Alright, sweethearts, we need you over at the Bellagio for some promo shots and then you’re free for the night,” one of the headset-clad organisers said to the group you were with before checking her watch. “Or should I say morning.”

The drive back from the Bellagio to the paddock seemed to take hours with the road closures and checkpoints, but finally you made it back. Knowing Carlos would be waiting somewhere for you, you scanned each floor to find him before heading straight to the top.

“Fuck, mi amor, this is what I need,” Carlos moaned. 

You froze at the sordid scene you had walked in on. Neither one saw you in the doorway of the darkened room, their backs to you as Carlos bent Rebecca over the desk and pounded into her. He curled her hair around his fist and pulled back so to expose the pleasure painted on her face. 

You didn’t even notice you were crying until a droplet fell from your cheek to land on your breast, the feather girl outfit he enjoyed on full display. You suddenly hated how exposed you felt in the ridiculous costume. It was almost as ridiculous as you - for thinking a man like him could change. 

“Take it, cariña, take it,” he stammered as you recognised the pinch of his brow. He was close. He was close to finishing and you were more than done with seeing it. 

You were conscious of your footsteps as you retreated from the room and descended downstairs. You just needed to make it to your dressing room so you could get your stuff and go. 

“Hey,” Charlotte called out as she caught your arm and pulled you to a stop with a friendly smile. “Carlos was looking for you earlier. Did you find him?”

“Yeah, I did,” you whispered, quickly wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Don’t bother drafting up the breakup post.”

Her smile dimmed as confusion replaced it. “What breakup post?”

“Huh,” you laughed humorlessly as you shook your head at your stupidity. “The one Carlos clearly didn’t talk to you about. God, I am a fucking idiot.”

You left the track, heading straight back to your hotel room and before you even reached the room you saw Carlos’ name come up on your phone. You sent him straight to voicemail, again and again.

You barely slept as you thought about how humiliated you felt. You wanted to get him back but you weren’t innocent yourself. You knew your career would be over if you outed the relationship you had with Carlos, even if it made you feel better momentarily. No, you weren’t going to bloody your hands for him, there was already a stain on your soul for what you had knowingly done.

You were a survivor and you were smarter than your recent actions showed. You knew things about Carlos that he had been foolish enough to share in the unburdened state that came after sharing his bed. You were going to use it to your advantage and do what you did best, be the envy of every man.

You had turned your phone off when you arrived at the paddock for the race but it was going to be impossible to ignore Carlos when you were assigned to the Ferrari team. 

“Stacy, swap with me?” you begged as she waited for Charles to escort him to the grid. “Pleeeease.”

“Whatever, French boys aren’t my thing anyway,” she said with a grin before heading next door to Carlos’ side. 

“I’m not French,” Charles corrected as he stepped out of his room. “I’m Monégasque.”

“Today, you’re pole,” you said with a grin as you offered your elbow out to him. “Ready to go?”

You didn’t glance in Carlos’ direction as you accompanied Charles out onto the grid. You didn’t even have to fake enjoying the company as you found the Monégasque had a good sense of humour and made you laugh the entire way. 

From the slamming of Carlos’ car door you knew you were getting to him. Carlos’ fear was losing to his team mate and he was sick of always being compared to Charles Leclerc. 

Carefully angling the feather fan to hide your faces from the jealous driver, you leant in and wished Charles good luck for the race. To the fans, you were clearly talking, but to Carlos? He would always think the worst.

Charles was high with adrenaline when he arrived at the Bellagio after coming second place. It wasn’t the win he was obviously hoping for but you could see how happy he was with the result. 

“So, you like Charles now, huh?” Stacy whispered as she stood as you did, a fake smile on your faces as you lined the interview stage. 

You cast her a quick side glance and winked. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I know why you wanted to swap, Carlos acts like a fucking baby. He practically trashed his garage after Charlotte spoke to him about something. God, I wish I could have heard what that conversation was about.”

“Hmm, me too,” you said with a sick sense of delight as the interviews wrapped up. “Oh, finally, almost time to party.”

“You must be happy, proving Carlos wrong,” you teased Charles as you escorted him back to the Rolls Royce he arrived in. 

His steps faltered and he slowed his walk as his other podium finishers drifted further ahead. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s been telling everyone how much better a driver he is compared to you,” you stated with a shrug. It was an exaggeration, you had overheard him complaining to his father in the garage. “But you showed him.”

“A better driver?” Charles scoffed. “He is full of shit.”

He seemed to be in deep contemplation as he walked silently, until he reached the car and turned to you. “You should come to the after party.”

Carlos had already added you to the invite list but you smiled and batted your lashes as Charles. “Are you asking me?”

He blushed and laughed at himself as he nodded. “Would you like to come to the after party with me?”

“You don’t have a girlfriend do you?”

“No,” he laughed warmly. “I wouldn’t be asking to take you if I did.”

“Then I would love to go with you.” You gave him your room number that was conveniently in the same hotel as him, since both Ferrari drivers stayed in the same one. 

You already had the perfect dress waiting in your room and as you stood in front of the mirror you had to admit you looked stunning. The red dress was tailored to your body and the plunging neckline was risque and exactly what you envisioned it to be. You couldn’t wait to see Carlos’ face when you walked into the party on his teammate's arm.

“Hey,” you greeted as you opened the door after the knock, but it wasn’t who you expected to see on the other side. “Carlos, what are you doing here?”

His jaw fell slack, lips parting, as his eyes trailed down your body. “Mios dios, hermosa.”

You held your hand out, planting it on his chest as he stepped forward to kiss you. “Woah there, buddy, not happening.”

“Why not? Why have you been ignoring me?” he asked with genuine confusion.

“I saw you fucking Rebecca last night after Qualifying.”

He looked a little sheepish as he scratched the back of his heated neck. “I couldn’t find you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better when you call her ‘mi amor’ too?”

“I didn’t mean it, I-I was thinking about you,” his eyes widened as his voice went up a pitch. “I swear.”

You nodded sympathetically as you rubbed his arm. “Of course, like you were thinking about me when you didn’t have that chat with Charlotte. Yeah, I know you didn't, so just go back to your girlfriend.”

“But I want you,” he pouted as he bowed his head and looked up with big brown puppy dog eyes.

“But I don’t want you. Not anymore.” You gave him a push and he ceded the space in your doorway as the  elevator across the hall opened and Charles stepped out looking good in a pair of jeans and a fitted shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. “Hey handsome,” you greeted him with a smile as you grabbed a black clutch with your phone and money. “Perfect timing.”

“You are breathtaking,” he said after a few blinks to recover from the sight of you. He smiled as he brushed past Carlos to kiss your cheek, ignoring the Spaniard completely. “Ready to go, chérie?”

You took his hand and sent a dark smile in Carlos’ direction as you passed by. “See you around, red man.”

Click here for part four.

[hellsquills]

Some timeline details for the Drafted AU

Drafted AU: a Gravity Falls AU in which Stan didn't break the perpetual motion machine and, instead of kicking him out, Filbrick sent him to Vietnam. Stan runs away. You can read more in this post.

The canon timeline would look something like this:

1969: Stan doesn't break the perpetual motion machine.

He's very sad and frustrated about his brother leaving. Instead of breaking into the school, they have a heated argument in the swings, in which Stan and Ford scream at each other until their true worries come to light: Stan is scared of his brother not having a good enough reason to come back home, and Ford is scared of not being up to their parents' (Filbrick) standards and forever being “the freak”. They talk it out as best as two 17-year-olds can, and they end up hugging and crying. They promise to always stick together, no matter what. They go home with a bond stronger than ever.

Ford leaves for uni in September.

1972: Stan is drafted.

It's been three years since Stanford left. Every once in a while, at least once a week, he calls home to catch up. He's drowning in work and classes, but he's as happy as he's ever been.

Stan is... managing. He picks up some work here and there, helping his dad in the shop, fixing some cars in the local garage and whatnot. Filbrick is not impressed though, and it gets worse when Ford sends part of his grant money. His son is so successful that he makes money just off reading books? And what's his extra kid doing? Not bringing home any money, that's for sure. More like living off his parents, for free, in their house, and eating their food. And so, he does the obvious thing; making Stan's life miserable until he decides to leave the house himself. Caryn doesn't see things the same way as he does, and she's spoiling this leech of a son they have.

One day, around November 1971, the third Vietnam draft lottery is held. Stan had managed to avoid being called for the last two (a friend of one of his dad's friends had some connections), but this time Filbrick makes sure he is called to take the test.

Stan calls his brother in a panic, and they both decide that the best and only course of action is that Stan pretends to be unable to do the physical tests. I'll expand on this in the future, I think, but basically the recruiters call his bluff and threaten to send him to prison if he doesn't cooperate. Stan gives up and passes the test with flying colors.

Stan goes back home knowing fully well he's fucked. He waits for the response. In January 1972, he receives the confirmation. The next day, in the middle of the night, he's out of the house.

1971: Introducing: Fiddleford.

Ford meets Fiddleford in a congress he attends in 1971, in which he gives a presentation on his most recent interest: the supernatural world and the multiverse. When the time for questions begins, all of them are about his perpetual motion machine. He's happy he's recognized by it, but he feels like no one listened to him and his new project. That is, until a lanky blond guy around his age comes up to the microphone and asks a question about a theory based on his. Ford is immediately taken aback by it, and asks the guy when did he come up with it. The guy simply answers that he just put two and two together while he was explaining, and it just occurred to him. Ford, who looks like he just took a peek into deep space, says into the mic: "Meet me in the room H at break".

The pure nerd energy these two emitted in the following two hours could fuel the San Diego Comic Con until California is underwater. They missed the rest of the congress and just kept talking and talking, one-upping each other's theories and finishing each other's equations. The connection is immediate, and they agree to stay in contact while they do their respective degrees.

A couple of years later, thanks to Ford's insistence, Fiddleford applies for a full scholarship at West Coast Tech. The university grants it, and his whole family is incredibly proud. Fiddleford finishes his Bachelor at Backupsmore University and moves in with Ford. They start living together on campus in 1974.

1972–1979: Stan on the run, Ford in uni.

This is basically the canon timeline redux. Stan runs away from the military service and the police altogether. He's still homeless and Ford-levels of paranoid. He doesn't contact his family in fear they'll have to pay the price for his mistakes. He doesn't call either. He doesn't leave the country, although he does come very close in '79. There are LOADS of backstory in this period, but the main point is that he's still a criminal, but much more discreet: no tricking people with faulty products, he doesn't want the authorities to know his location by putting up ads, but he does a bunch of illegal deals, betting, and drugs.

Ford is in uni and, as predicted, he's still working his ass off. He attends every single congress he can, takes as many classes as he can legally take and is overall the same maniac nerd he is in canon. Part of it is still wanting to be the absolute best student at all times, but also because he's genuinely enjoying it. The only difference here is that he also makes time to look for his lost twin, which keeps him somewhat grounded. He also has Fiddleford with him, and he helps a lot.

Ford still calls home around once a week, but he resents his dad because he knows Filbrick had something to do with Satan's draft. As time goes by, he's less and less scared of him and more upset, until he tells him to go to hell. He feels the freest he's ever been. He thinks about Stan and how proud he would've been of him for being the one who stood up to their father for once.

1979: Stan arrives in Tennessee

He arrives at the beginning of summer, around mid-June. He just escaped from a particularly tough situation, so he's trying to lay as low as possible; therefore, he hides in Tennessee, as this state shares a border with many others and it'd be easier to elude whoever is looking for him. That's also why he goes straight for the small towns, instead of the cities.

He's exhausted and broker than he's been in a while. He goes to a small town and orders something small, enough to fuel him for a few more hours. The waitress takes pity on him and serves him a bigger plate on the house. Stan could cry.

Fiddleford just finished his finals, and just as he does every summer, he comes back home to help his family on the farm. That's why he's home when he meets Stan, and not in uni.

Ford spends his summer at West Coast Tech, living on campus and doing extracurricular internships.

1979-82: Life at the McGucket's and the move to Gravity Falls

Stan lives with the McGuckets for two years, although he only lives with Fiddleford during holidays and summers (since he doesn't get married in this AU, he spends some more time studying in uni and working on his own projects). He bonds A LOT with them, and they love having him around.

In 1981, Ford finally receives a big grant to study the supernatural, and he decides to build a house in a town in Oregon called Gravity Falls. He immediately asks Stan and Fiddleford to live with him and to help him in his investigations, if they want to.

Seeing as it is a secluded area (and because he misses his brother like crazy), Stan accepts. So does Fiddleford.

???? - Fiddlestan

When is Fiddlestan established in this AU? Who falls first (and who falls harder)? When does Ford find out? Does he help any of them out? Does Fidds' family know? Your call, honestly.

[if you share your ideas i'll kiss your forehead]

I'm torn between them falling in love in the holidays and then pining through the phone while they're away, being an established couple before they move to Gravity Falls or getting together while they're there. Either way it's teeth-rotting fluff, I can tell you that much.

[numinously-yours]

Free Tarot Reading: Why did X happen?

Today's free reading is going to look deeper at why something in your life happened. I am answering the following questions:

What is X?

Why did X happen?

How can/did you grow from X?

Choose an X above and find your group below the cut:

What is X? Knight of Swords

You may have started a project and, in the middle of it, it abruptly ended. You thought you had all of the resources you needed – money, people to back the project, a solid plan – so when it ended it was really disappointing. You’re not quite sure what went wrong or why the project couldn’t get off the ground. The main point of concern keeps coming back to the people. Why did people decide to stop investing?

Why did X happen? Seven of Cups rev.

At some point during this project, there were too many cooks in the kitchen. Since it was your idea originally, you took the reigns back and decided to make executive decisions. While this isn’t always a bad thing, it feels like people may have stepped back from working with the project because they didn’t feel their voices being heard. Additionally, there were a lot of short term goals as the project was getting starting rather than looking at the bigger picture, so the small things didn’t necessarily add up to reaching the ultimate goal.

How did/can you grown from X? Ace of Swords rev.

This situation is helpful for you as you move forward with other big ideas (or even if you try this one again!). You are excited about ideas so you want to get them off the ground, but this can be a reminder that taking time to plan is just as important as the execution of the plan. Create SMART goals (specific, measurable, achievable, realistic and time-bound), allow others to provide feedback, and find a balance between leading and collaborating. Something else that you may have/can learn from this is to wait on announcing ideas until you have a rough draft. It may have been too early in the planning stages of the original project and that made it asier for a lot of opinions to be thrown around. Come in with an outline/structure which allows for some movement, ideas, and opinions, but isn’t a complete blank slate.

What is X? Six of Swords & Page of Cups rev.

There is/was someone in your life who was holding you back. You are inspired, full of ideas and plans for the future, and have always been someone who’s been able to move forward. Someone came into your life and once they did, you felt dragged down. This person has an immature nature about them. They are a bit narcissistic and childish, but think they are mature and know what they are talking about. It has become incredibly frustrating for you. You feel like you have to put your needs on the back burner in order to avoid chaos. For some of you, you may have distanced yourself from this person for a while, but now they are coming back into your life and you don’t know what you are doing to do. You’ve finally gotten back into your groove – will they mess it up again?

Why did X happen? Knight of Wands rev.

Although frustrating, this person came into your life because the delays in your progress were necessary. Whatever you were trying to achieve at the time where they swooped in and paused your work was not going to be successful if you were to have finished it then and there. I feel like my mom when I say that this also happened to “build character”. In a less annoying sense (for me lol), this person was there to teach you patience – not necessarily patience in people, but in not achieving your goals as quickly as you want. Without this person, there would have been risk of impulsiveness and built up energy.

How can/have you grown from X? Three of Pentacles

On a personal level, having this person in your life will ultimately help you appreciate other people who come into your life. Knowing that the person came into your life to help delay progress may help you see people on another level. “There is a reason this person came into my life. Let’s find out why.” It doesn’t mean you have to enjoy spending time with them, lol, but it will help it be less frustrating when the people around you are frustrating.

Regarding the goal(s), it has been aided in growth by the delay. Now that more time as passed, you will be more objective, have a more solid plan, and know where you can get resources to help it flourish.

What is X? Two of Cups

This has “the one who got away” energy for me. Whether it was a romantic partner or a platonic friendship, someone who you loved and had a great partnership with isn’t in your life anymore. You’re wondering what the point was for this person to bring beauty to your life just for it to be ripped away.

Why did X happen? The Lovers & Nine of Swords

They came into your life because you deserved to know that this type of love exists. You deserve to know that, even in your darkest moments, you are loveable and worth the effort. This person was likely the first person in a long time that you were able to be vulnerable with. You learned how to trust again. You learned how to communicate. In terms of why they had to leave, I think it’s as simple as they weren’t meant to be. It’s not an easy answer to accept and it still probably doesn’t make sense. But the time that you had together really shaped you to be successful in new relationship(s) to come.

How can/have you grown from X? Eight of Wands rev. & Ace of Wands

This relationship is bringing you back to the root of YOU. It has probably started already. There are days you doubt your worth because the person did leave, but each day it gets easier to remind yourself that you are worthy. This person has lit a fire under you to live your life for yourself because you finally know that you deserve good things. They showed you the potential that relationships can have and that you have within them. You can move forward from this relationship with optimism for the future.  

What is X? The Tower & King of Wands

Your X was a huge tower moment for you. There was sudden change followed by chaos. Everything that you knew was turned upside down. You had a plan for your future. You could visualize opportunities ahead and see the steps to get there. It feels like you’re expected to build the tower back up but there aren’t any directions to tell you how.

Why did X happen? Justice

I’m not being told exactly what happened that caused the tower moment, but it seems like the actions that were being taken were not in your highest good or the highest good of others involved. Unfortunately, the collapse of the tower was the consequences to those actions. Someone did not stand by decisions that they made and left everyone to their own devices. There was a missing level of ethicality and fairness.  

How can/did you grown from X? Knight of Pentacles

This knight is the hardest working knight in the deck. They are methodical and driven. They may not be the most creative, but they get the job done. You are being called to be this knight as you rebuild that tower. You don’t have to be the most creative person in the room. You don’t have to be the most inspiring person and come into a planning session with a full list of new ideas. If you focus on getting the job done effectively and consistently, you will be successful. Sit down and write goals. Just like group 1 (which you may have been interested in checking out), create goals that are tangible and attainable. You can also grow by accepting responsibility for anything that might go wrong. The original tower moment may or may not have been consequences of your own actions, but moving forward you need to be aware of your actions so another tower doesn’t fall. Stick to what you know, stick to a routine, and soon you’ll see the tower is standing higher than ever.

[scrubbinn]

Mimic HRT: month 23 “Alone with myself”

“This is a dumb idea. The day after Erian gives up with his mimic research, you decide to resort to the worst possible option. There's so many other options we could try.”

“Oh, so now you show up in my head. Of course you're only here to attack me. Why should I expect anything different? It's just magic. We're inexperienced but the book can guide us. If you want to help then you can stay, otherwise I don't want to hear a single thing out of you.”

“You can't call this magic. This is so much worse. Look, I'm here to make sure you're going to be ok, I'm here to talk when you need it.”

“Well I don't need to talk to anyone right now. So go away. I need to concentrate.”

“And what would she think?”

“Leave!”

“Ms.Mulberry, You’ve been in your office for a while now. Is everything alright? You seem to have locked the door, and barred it considering the master key is doing nothing. I understand if you’re having trouble with your panic attacks. It’s the only reason I gave you this place. I just need the recording on Mimic behavior. The full recording, not the edited draft this time.”

“Sorry Theo, I, uh, yeah I’m kind of busy at the moment. I left the recorder in your desk drawer, the one with all the candy. By the way, you know you’re not at that age where you can be so casual with your teeth, right? Maybe get that sweet tooth pulled instead? Anyway, I’ll be busy for a while so I could use some space.”

“Right… Well your unneeded chastising aside and your odd hiding of your recorders around my office, I’ll take a look. Please don’t take more than 15 minutes. We have several important clients coming in soon and I need you at the front desk on your best behavior.”

“What happened to Jacob?”

“He was fired after he screamed at a dragon walking into the clinic on three separate occasions. Look I would appreciate not having a conversation with a door, will you open up or not?”

“Busy right now, like I said. Just. Go away for now. Like an hour?”

“You have 10 minutes. Harumph. I will be in my own office with the door not barred and I will be listening to your findings, they better be worthwhile.”

* * *

“Mayday! Mayday!? You open this door this instant!!” Listen to me right now! I know you have that book from Thayer library in there! Do not use it! Mayday, you will not use that book or you’ll wish all that happened today is me breaking down this door!”

“Leave Theo, I’m not stopping now. There were no concrete answers anywhere until this book found its way to me. If science won’t show me my origins, then the only answer I have left is magic. Now be quiet. I need to make sure the ritual circle is perfect. I can’t afford to mess up a single line. You said you had some clients, right? Go tend to them, I’ll be fine.”

“You most certainly won’t be! This isn’t magic, Mayday! This is something far more dangerous! Not to mention it could cause the ethics board to take away my license if they found out something like this happened here! I'm calling the fire department, I'll be taking the damages out of your paycheck!”

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about. Now hush already… The protection circle goes here, I think there’s just enough salt to finish the rest of these sigils…”

“Why are you even doing this here of all places!? Do you seriously just want to get me in trouble when this childish impatience blows up in your face? 

Wait. Why are you doing this here? This is the only place where I could interfere with you… You’re worried what she’d say if she knew what you were doing. It’s easier for me to hate you, isn’t it.”

“...Don’t bring up Abigail. She wouldn't get it. Neither of you would. It's so clear you've hit a dead end. You just found some random substances in your office and decided that, in your oh so infinite wisdom, this, this right here. This is what should go in a person's medicine. I'd ask what you'd have done if it didn't kill me, but I've actually seen how many people have nearly choked on your experiments. It's your fault I'm a mimic, I never asked for this. I wanted to be a slime! I still do. Now I'm this thing that can only fake it. I was so close, I was so, so close. And now it's gone forever. I am the only mimic in existence. I am alone, and I can't convey to anyone how scared that makes me.”

“You're worried Ms.Abigail could talk you out of this, aren't you.”

“The ritual is nearly complete. Please leave the building, Theo. I can't call you a friend, but you're like the definition of Stockholm syndrome. I don't want to see you hurt.”

“You open this door this instant you little ungrateful stain of a-

“Theo?... He's… gone? Oh the summoning circle! Ok everything looks fine. Protection ring, spell ring, candles.. have blown out. It's pitch black outside. I think I should close the blinds. Though I doubt it'll stop whatever's out there from getting in. Ok, focus, you're in this deep, what's a few more miles. All you need to do is read the next part. Heh, hehehahaha! I… why can’t I read these words? It's my nerves, I’ll bet. I don’t want to think if it could be something else. Let’s just get this over with, read the passage, figure out the rest later. Iɟ I ʍɐᴉʇ ʇoo louƃ I pou,ʇ ʞuoʍ ʍɥɐʇ ʍᴉll ɥɐddǝu…

I think my reality is starting to break. Oʞ lǝʇ,s qǝƃᴉu.”

“HⱯⱯⱯꓵ ҼODOʁHꓕ IⱯ,Է BEҼ,Γ-EE,H HꓕOHꓕOƧ-ҼO⅄ 'HⱯҼИ,ҼИ,IⱯ,⅄!”

“Are you there?”

…

“Oh, oh stars it worked. Hello… I am Mayday Mulberry. I've summoned you to-

…

“Of course, how rude of me. Then does that mean you know? You know what I am, and where mimics come from?” I beg of you to impart this knowledge onto me. I must know my kind and their history. Are there others out there like me?”

…

“I… I'm sorry for summoning you, but I had no other choice. I- what do you mean I'm stagnant? No, I'm still changing, I’m a mimic! We’re the definition of changing.”

…

“I. I don't believe you! You're wrong! Just shut up! Just tell me what I want to know! I summoned you! I'm the one in control here!”

…You are an insect, a being, trying at something it is not. You who expect mere shapes to impress and salt to keep you safe. You fumble in ignorance. You crave the isolation that you fear so much. If you wish for knowledge, You will have knowledge. This stagnant thing before me. It pretends to change in vain displays of approval. Revolting.

… ..! …….!!

You will not speak. This ingredient you wish to know. This thing that makes you mimic. It is nothing. The entirety of nothing. The concept to not exist, so that you may be anything. You should not be physical, but only existing blissfully as the thoughts of others pass through you. And forget you. Mortals think, and you mimic. You are the accident of yourself. A concept that formed its own existence. The byproduct of which was found by a paradoxically curiously incurious mortal who knows its place in the cosmic scale. Unlike you, stagnant thing. I will teach you. You will mimic.

* * *

Where am I? I can’t speak. I can’t see. I can barely keep a single thought, it disappears

       the second I stop thinking about it. There’s no sensation. Am I dead? Could I even be considered dead? Self, think of a self and try to form an idea and then it will work. I need arms, I don’t have arms. Can I form an arms? Wait… what is an arms? I don’t remember. Legs? No, I've never heard of those. What’s a self? No, I know what a self is because I am a self. I think… hard to think.   How do you think again? Can you do that in this reality?

Mɥɐʇ ǝʌǝu ᴉs ɹǝɐlᴉʇʎ ɐuʎɯoɹǝ?

I I w I

t s i

l c

f t l a

e h n

e i I t

l s

s s r

l e e

s i e m

o v e

i t m

s n h b

t g e e

r ? m r

a

n a h

g g e

e a r

i

Ah n n

did I  a

just melt m

into myself? e

Do I still have a 

self? I can’t even 

remember anything 

about myself. I am a 

mimic. My name is. Oh, 

I don’t know it anymore… 

I think that would be scary, 

but I don’t know how to be 

scared anymore. Was this 

supposed to teach me? To 

be ever changing. Why did 

I do this again? To learn who 

I am? Did I not have a self 

before? Why did I need to 

know?... I was lonely. Right?

It was so lonely. 

I remember being 

so incredibly tired. 

Sometimes I would 

just cry from how 

bad it got. I had to 

be seen. To be 

known. I had to 

be. Or else I. Or 

else I… I don’t 

remember. 

What shape am I 

now? Something 

called a knife? 

What is that?

I was just something wasn’t I? I was a past memory. I don’t remember it anymore. It wasn’t a good one. Should I forget it? But if I do then I won't remember anything ever again. Eternity with a bad memory. It feels fitting for some reason. I should figure a way out. I want to leave.

Every thought takes so long to form.

If I stay here any longer I won’t be able to leave. I need to think. I was talking with someone before I came here. I know they’re here because they've always been here. Because where else could they be? Because… where are you?

There you are! Here I am. 

Who are you? I'm you!

Can you please explain? I’m someone to talk to.

I see. Like an imaginary friend? No, I’m very much real.

Could we talk normally? Yes we can, and it’s no problem.

I’m… Mayday, being able to talk with someone helps focus my mind. I feel like I can actually think straight. How long has it been since we came here?

I think it’s been about… 20 years? I have zero frame of reference. But at least we can finally communicate easily. Imagine if it took us 20 years in the real world. That would suck! But seriously, we really should talk now. I think it’ll be important. Oh right, where are my manners. My name is. Well. Mayday doesn’t really work for me. We can figure out a different one later. Let’s just pick something at random for now. Something like, how about laborer?

Are you sure you want to go with a name like that? Well I guess it’s temporary. So I have a lot of questions. How are you me? Are you the voice in my head? Were you always a part of me, or are you some mimic brain thing?

Woah, Woah, slow down. One thing at a time. How do I answer everything? No, I've been in here long before you. Yes I'm the one who's been able to talk to you, and before you ask, I'm not some ghost of Mayday's former self. I'm just… Someone who works here.

Cryptic. Maybe you should start from the beginning? I'd rather not test if Getting a headache without a head is possible.

Really? You want to start a self therapy session out here in the void? Alright. I’m game. Well you spent the last decade here feeling isolated. I’m sure it felt longer, that’s what happens when you get trapped in a place without time, I guess. Anyways, you don’t remember, but I used to be you. Before we even knew who we actually were, and that was the problem. We didn’t know what was wrong with us, but we knew we weren’t, ugh, normal. Normal in boring people’s eyes. But, it was isolating, we removed ourself from people who didn’t understand, and it isolated us even more.

So you’re saying I went crazy because we never connected to anyone? Why are you only showing up now anyways?

First of all, we’re not crazy. I’d bite anyone who’d call us crazy for that. Secondly, I've only been able to reach you since you started feeling like your true self.

Pretty sure I screwed that up becoming a mimic instead of a slime.

Oh, no, I wanted to be a slime, you were the one who wanted to be a mimic.

Huh? I guess I didn't hate being a mimic exactly. So all this happened because I, er, we felt isolated. Is that really true?

  Loneliness is more traumatic than you’d think. When it was just me, it got to the point that… I couldn’t think of anything else but… no, don't worry about it. Since you stopped me before I could do something stupid, you took over, and you started talking to people. It helped, it got us to where we met others like us.

But it didn’t help. I still feel lonely. I can feel it, you know. There’s other mimics around us here. They’re all here and I still feel lonely.

Yeah, dummy. We don’t know how to feel any other way. We need to unlearn it. Otherwise nothing is going to change.

… Hey um, laborer, ugh awful name. We'll pick something better, I wanted to say I'm sorry, for getting us stuck here for all eternity. I was supposed to be the one who stopped us from feeling this way and I ended up digging us into a deeper hole, at least we have each other, and the trillions of mimics that surround us.

You did your best. Hey, let's try doing something. Look down. You can see Erian right? This is him two years ago. We’re mimicking his thoughts right now. I think normally we would just munch on his stray thoughts. But being physical we could do something fun with what’s left of our body. Check it out.

What did you just do? Did you just. We're the one who left that ingredient for Erian to use. So we created ourself on accident. Oh stars, the ingredient was our own decayed body, I think I'm going to be sick. Wait, isn't this like a time paradox?

Paradoxes aren't real, humans just haven't figured out the physics of time yet. This is a teachable moment. We're going to get out of here. We're going to find a tear in the void and walk out of it. Since time doesn't exist, our perception of it becomes reality. A century becomes a blink, we just need to find the point where we escape to the correct time and go there.

I understood basically none of it but you’re saying we can go back, right? Then I’ll try whatever nonsense you tell me. Hey laborer, will we be able to talk when we get back? Laborer? Hey! Are you there?!

“Ms.Mulberry? Mayday! Mayday! Are you finally awake? Mayday, can you hear me?!”

Theo? H-how long was I gone?

“Mayday! You have so much to answer for! Pull yourself together already!”

Huh? Can he not hear me? Oh, right, I forgot how to make a mouth. No, that’s not a mouth, that's just teeth. Teeth and eyes. Is that all I can remember? No… Teeth, eyes, and knowing, I just know. I know what he’s saying, that he knows what I am, and he doesn’t understand. It felt like it was years. No wonder I can’t remember how to move a body.

All of my memories are flooding back… Except the old ones. I don’t remember my time there. Just that it was horrific, and that I’ll miss it. I was connected to my kind for just a brief moment of eternity. I think I met someone there, and I wanted to say goodbye to everyone before I disappeared. I don’t think I’ll ever get back now. What do I even do? Therapy I guess. Oh, Erian is still talking. Maybe it’s important.

“I swear, you just do things with no regard! You could have seriously endangered my life, and the livelihood of everyone who comes to this clinic! Do you ever think about others? You better have a good explanation, and more importantly answers to our research if you ever want the chance of me forgiving you. You arrogant, ignorant, self-obsessed, blah, blah blah blah…”

Yep. Nothing important. Whatever. Stars, I’m bored. I want to hang out with Aria again, I want to see how Sandy is doing, I want to make sure Alexis is ok, I want to be able to hold Abi again. Maybe I should host a party. It’d be nice to be around others.

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Mention list: @a-shramp, @calliecwrites, @be702, @respectfulevil, @hyacinthdoll1315

@aster-is-confused, @bloodandbrandywyne, @glitchgloop, @nyxthewary, @lunadook

[veneritia]

when comes the dawn monthly update {01.30.2025}

First monthly update of the new year!

THE STATISTICS

the draft → 64,598 words * words written this month → 6,008 words average word count per session this month → 501 words words written this year → 6,008 words

* my draft is spread across multiple docs so this number may not be 100% accurate

STORY NOTES

We have another Nike POV scene! Ft. Nike being the complete opposite of a wife guy, and a grown ass man pouting over having to wear green because his wife told him to :( (but with everything the guy's been through, he deserves to pout)

Fenice comes out of the gate swinging and decides that the best way to build a base of power and influence is by alienating herself from potential allies. Don't worry, Leda is there to tell her that that's a stupid plan actually

New character unlocked: [High Commander Selene Doriaskora]

I've decided to lean a lot more into Fenice and Charles' relationship from this point on and put a lot more emphasis on the fact that 1) they've known each other since they were kids and are in fact the closest among the vi Aetier siblings, and 2) allying herself with Charles is Fenice's best chance of surviving the King's Game until she becomes a strong enough candidate on her own

I'm way too scared to go back into earlier chapters and fix them to make them fall in line with the new directions I'm taking because I'm afraid that I'll end up slashing 70% of them, so we're just gonna wait until I finish act 1 to do that.

EXCERPT

“My good lords and ladies,” she spoke, ringed fingers drumming staccato at the head of her armrest. “My Imperial father has sent me here with two missions in mind. The first is on a hunt.” She lets the word ring clear through the air, letting it sink into every person’s mind. “The man known as Isandros Deominos is to be  branded a criminal. An enemy of the state. He will be caught, and he will be executed as per the will of His Imperial Majesty. Those who are found to be aiding Isandros, whether it be harboring him, cooperating with his schemes, or failing to provide any information as to his plans or whereabouts, will be found guilty of treason and punished to the full extent of the law.”

Fenice sat back, her eyes hardened. “He may have once been a prince to all of you, but now he is simply nothing more than a man running on borrowed time. His fate is inevitable, and the Fortune-Weaver has turned her gaze away from him. Loyalty to a dying man will earn you nothing.” And then as if a page was flipped, or the mask changed, her face became warm again and Fenice smiled serenely at her audience as if she did not just condemn Nike’s brother to die. “But I am not just here as an executioner, no. His Imperial Majesty has tasked me with bringing peace and order to the land, and that is exactly what I intend to do.”

BLOG STUFF

Check out my 2025 resolution bingo for this month's WTW event! It features all of my writing goals for WCTD

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-)

@bloomingwrites @writinglyra @zmwrites @trapped-inadystopianovel @inky-duchess @aalinaaaaaa @seasteading @kaatiba @serpentarii @lazulis-stuff @sourrcandy @charlesjosephwrites @marrowwife @forever-and-almost-always @halcionic @caninemotiff @socialmediasocrates @zorya-km @smolandweirdwriter @floweryprosegarden

[drewharrisonwriter]

One Day at a Time - Ch. 10: One Last Time

Pairings: Dave York x Female Reader

Series Summary: A man washed ashore, with no memory, and no name, finds a home and a life in the middle of nowhere.

Author's Notes: This story has been sitting in my drafts for over a year, waiting for the perfect moment to see the light of day. It wasn't until recently that I found the inspiration to finally finish the last two chapters, thanks to the incredible Keri @absurdthirst. Her story, "Washed Up," struck a chord with me—it had such a similar plot and concept to what I had in mind, and it reignited my passion to bring this piece to life. Keri's writing has been a constant source of solace and inspiration, and I'm endlessly grateful for her creativity and the way she crafts stories that speak to the soul. If you haven’t checked out her work, you absolutely should!

Warnings: Please be aware that this story contains elements of violence, explicit sexual content, and pregnancy. Additionally, there are medical inaccuracies throughout—because I don’t work in the medical field, so please take it all with a grain of salt. Enjoy the ride, and thank you for reading! 😊

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

The drive back to the farm felt surreal, the storm brewing outside reminding Dave too much of that fateful day when everything had changed. The rain pounded against the windshield, the wind howling as it pushed against the car, but Dave barely noticed. His mind was racing with thoughts of seeing you again after all these months apart.

He couldn’t help but laugh at himself, the sound bitter as it echoed in the confined space of the car. Who would have thought he’d become this man? The kind who worried about whether the woman he cared about had moved on, who feared she might have found someone else to build a life with. The old Dave would have scoffed at such weakness, but he wasn’t that man anymore. He had changed—losing his memory, living a simpler life, and then regaining his memories had altered him in ways he hadn’t expected.

He knew now that he had his full memory back. Every detail was sharp and clear, but those memories didn’t change how he felt about you. If anything, they had only intensified his need to return to the farm, to return to his newfound life, to be with you.

As he neared the farm, Dave’s heart pounded with anticipation. The house came into view, dark and silent, and a small frown creased his forehead. The storm was growing stronger, the wind whipping through the trees, but there was no sign of life inside. He pulled the car to a stop and got out, his eyes scanning the property.

“Maybe she’s out on a supply run,” he muttered to himself, trying to ignore the gnawing worry in his gut. He pushed open the front door, stepping into the familiar warmth of the farmhouse. Everything was just as he remembered, but the emptiness weighed heavily on him.

Dave moved through the house, checking each room, except his old room which was locked for some reason, but there was no sign of you. The silence in the house, combined with the growing storm outside, only heightened his anxiety. Where were you?

As the night wore on, the storm grew more intense. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the rain lashed against the windows. Dave found himself pacing the living room, his worry growing with each passing minute. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, the only sound in the otherwise silent house.

When the first flash of lightning lit up the sky, Dave’s unease turned to panic. Something wasn’t right. He grabbed his phone, scrolling through the contacts, but hesitated. Who would he even call? Before he could decide, a shadow moved outside the window, and Dave froze, his heart leaping into his throat.

He moved to the front door, flinging it open just as another flash of lightning illuminated the figure standing at the edge of the walkway. Dave’s breath caught in his chest as he recognized the man.

“McCall,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the storm.

McCall stood there, his expression unreadable, a gun in his hand. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just watched Dave with those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through him.

“Where is she?” Dave demanded, stepping forward despite the gun pointed at him. “Where is she?”

McCall didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He pressed a button and held it up, the sound of your voice filling the air.

“Dave, go! Leave! Please, save yourself!” Your voice was frantic, filled with fear, and Dave felt his heart shatter at the sound.

“Stop,” Dave pleaded, his voice breaking. “Stop this, McCall. She has nothing to do with this, let her go.”

McCall’s expression didn’t change as he ended the call, tucking the phone back into his pocket. “She’s pregnant, Dave,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that sent a chill down Dave’s spine. “Did you know that?”

Dave froze, the shock hitting him like a physical blow. “What… what did you say?”

McCall’s eyes narrowed, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “I won’t hesitate to make sure they both ‘quietly go to sleep’ if you don’t cooperate. You know that.”

Dave’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his mind racing. He couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t lose you, couldn’t lose the child he hadn’t even known about until now.

“Where are they?” Dave demanded, his voice hardening as he stepped even closer to McCall. “Tell me where they are!”

McCall didn’t flinch. “They’re safe for now, Dave. But that could change very quickly, especially with this storm coming in. It won’t take much for the water to rise, for the flood to wash everything away.”

Dave’s heart pounded in his chest, the fear and anger warring within him. “What do you want?”

McCall’s gaze remained steady, his grip on the gun unwavering. “I want you to choose, Dave. Your life, or theirs. You always knew this day would come. Make your choice.”

Dave stared at McCall, the rain soaking through his clothes, the wind whipping around them. His mind flashed back to that day on the tower, the day he had lost everything. The memories flooded back completely, cohesively—Ari, Kovac, Resnik—all of them gone because of McCall. And now, he was about to lose you too.

Slowly, Dave sank to his knees, the rain beating down on him as he bowed his head. “Do it,” he said quietly, the words barely audible over the storm. “Just… just let them go.”

McCall watched him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. But before he could respond, a sudden flash of lightning illuminated the area, revealing a massive shadow behind him throwing Dave a rifle in a split second.

Dave’s instincts kicked in, and he caught the rifle that was suddenly tossed to him. Without thinking, he swung it with all his strength, connecting with McCall’s face. The man stumbled back, momentarily dazed, but quickly recovered. His grip tightened on the rifle, and with a fierce pull, he yanked Dave down to the ground with him. They grappled in the mud, the storm raging around them, rain pouring down in sheets, lightning flashing in the dark sky.

The fight was brutal, a desperate struggle for control. McCall was strong, his movements precise, but Dave’s fury fueled him, giving him a raw, relentless energy. Every muscle in his body lighted up and burned with the effort, but he refused to let go, refused to give in.

Suddenly, there was a loud pop—a gunshot cutting through the roar of the storm. Dave froze, his heart pounding in his chest, as McCall’s body went limp. The man’s eyes widened in shock, fear etched into every line of his face, as a bullet struck the back of his head.

Dave pushed McCall’s lifeless body off him, breathing heavily. The shadow loomed over him, and Dave looked up, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the figure standing above him. The man held out a hand, helping Dave to his feet. As the lightning flashed again, Dave recognized the face beneath the cap.

“Resnik?” Dave’s voice was barely audible over the storm.

Resnik gave a small, grim smile, nodding as he pulled Dave up. “I knew you were alive,” he said, his voice steady. “There was no body found. No body means not dead.”

Dave smirked, pulling Resnik into a brief, tight hug. He tapped his back, a gesture of camaraderie. “Glad you’re alive,” Dave muttered. “Thought I’d lost everyone.”

“Thought so, too,” Resnik replied, his tone serious. “But you know it takes more than that fall to take me out. I’ve been keeping a low profile, but I knew you’d need help sooner or later.”

Dave quickly sobered, his thoughts turning to you. “We need to find her,” he said urgently, his voice filled with worry.

Resnik nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. “I’m already on it. I’ve been following you since DC, keeping an eye on the farm. That’s how I got hired as her farm hand. I figured it was the best way to stay close, make sure nothing went wrong. I suspected the baby was yours, too.”

Dave’s heart tightened at the revelation. “You knew?”

Resnik nodded. “Yeah, I had a feeling. I didn’t want to assume, but it was pretty clear. We’ll get her out of this, Dave.”

They searched McCall’s body, retrieving the phone he had used to call you. Dave looked around, realizing they couldn’t stay there. “Help me get him to the barn,” Dave said, and Resnik didn’t hesitate to assist.

They hauled McCall’s body over to the barn, the storm still raging around them. As they worked, Resnik filled in more details. “I knew something was off when you went to DC,” he said. “Figured McCall would make a move. Been following you both closely ever since.”

Dave glanced at him, surprised. “You’ve been close this whole time?”

“Yeah,” Resnik confirmed. “Just waiting for the right moment. Now, let’s go get her.”

Once they had secured McCall’s body, Resnik led Dave to his car. They climbed in, and Resnik started the engine, the tension between them palpable. Dave couldn’t shake the anxiety gnawing at him.

“Thanks, Resnik,” Dave said quietly as they drove. “I don’t say that enough, but… thanks.”

Resnik nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “No need for that. Just doing what we do—looking out for each other.”

As they drove through the storm, Resnik pulled out his phone and made a call. “Got any leads on that trace?” he asked, his tone brisk.

After a moment, he nodded. “Got it. We’re close.” He hung up and glanced at Dave. “There’s a place not far from your old house. Looks like an abandoned safe house. We should check it out.”

Dave’s grip tightened on the seat, his heart racing. “Let’s go.”

Next Chapter 👉🏻

[louroth]

Hello everyone :> 

It's been a month! it's incredible how much my life has changed- while I'm still adjusting I'm just...still walking on clouds. it feels unreal. the patreon took off and I can almost make a living wage on it which is frankly fucking insane, and the discord is so vibrant it scared me for a moment (not anymore- shooting the shit with the people there is the favorite part of my day, even if I sometimes just leave a trail of emotes lskjdhajksdhkjasd.) I couldn't have asked for a better community. YES I am crying about it. Thank you, so, so much. I am cradling your face in my hands. crying.

But as always, enough of my bleeding heart. Let's get to it!

The first two weeks after posting the update, I took a sort of quasi vacation and only wrote a handful of story-words each day, and spent some time fooling around in the discord + brushed off my smut archive to refine for Patreon. There are already 4 stories up, and a new one coming tomorrow- though I haven't decided yet whether it will be possessive/jealous L sfw short or one very nasty short where you come across a particularly insistent species of vines while trekking the forest. hehe. we'll see. >:3

But, even though I had to rest not to combust after work, I am very pleased to say that the next chapter is coming along great, with the skeleton finished for its entirety, and about 45% and some change already written (it's very hard to gauge because I jump around a lot when I write.) This is the final chapter before the forest, filled with action and the heart wrenching drama of offering tenderness to a certain someone, and deciding for your hunter when enough is truly enough. I have teared up writing certain scenes and I genuinely cannot wait for you to experience this next part yourselves. 

It is so funny reading things I wrote for this chapter six months ago, or longer, because I knew exactly what emotions I wanted to bake in and couldn't really nail it, but now it is coming together beautifully! Sure, it will still be wonky first draft writing, but the core is there and that is all that matters for now. I'm saying soon™ for the update for now, because I am allowing myself to adapt to writing full time- I didn't quit my job to become my own nightmare boss, and I truly want to enjoy this process. I think, in the long run, it will result in a better story. Patience is my mantra. All in due time- I cannot force quality creative work. But by everything wretched and sinful, I cannot wait to share this next part with you!!! I'm frothing at the mouth!!!

In other news, y'all. I need to get organized. I get heartburn thinking about all the different variations of files and notes and notebooks and scraps of paper and variables and branches of plot and just generally, the things to keep track of is getting to the point of a dragon hoard of scary 'oh no I forgot about that part'. I'm gritting my teeth through it until this chapter is out, but after it, I am going to spend some time to

 1) get my shit together in gorgeous, beautiful spreadsheets

2) get serious about finding beta- and proofreaders. (me @ u: 🥺)

But that's it, my friends! I scrapped an entire progress report because I started sounded corporate and listing points which was just... sad. I really hope I evolve into writing these in a more fun way, which would make them more fun for you to read too! But for now, I think this will do. I hope you have a beautiful day/night, and if you would like to see more in depth dev-logs of my writing life, or random sneak peeks, I post those weekly on patreon!

Or join our discord, which. It's just the nicest place, I can't even come up with words that do it justice. It's my favorite daily newspaper.

Until next time! x

[crying-with-my-emo-grandpa]

Okay hot take apparently? I really don't wanna see stranger things leaks. Like at all.

I want to wait until the actual creators of the show finish production and decide when they want the art they created to be shown to the public.

There's literally no point in watching the "soon to be leaked" episodes (assuming that those "leaks" aren't total bullshit) because production isn't finished yet? Like why do you wanna see a rough draft of the show you love riddled with spoilers instead of just waiting to watch it when it's actually released

Why would you actively search for information the creators of the show don't want you to know? Maybe it's just the way I enjoy things but seeing a half baked storyline leaked or a few scenes confirming something sounds awful to me. God forbid I want to see the full story played out to its completion the way the creators of the show intended. No I don't want a byler kiss leak because I actually want to watch them accept their feelings for one another. Which seems like common sense but I've talked about this before and people do not seem to agree with me

Not to be rude but I genuinely cannot understand the mentality behind this. Somebody please give me some insight because I can't think of a valid reason why people want leaks so bad

[imagines-by-cleo]

A different punishment

Erwin Smith x Fem!reader

I missed our favorite Commander! I can't believe it's been months since I last wrote an Erwin fic so I dug this out of my drafts and finished it up to share with everyone. My inbox is closed right now so I can't take any requests if you want more but I would still love to hear some feedback in the replies and reblogs!

CW: SMUT, dom/sub, breeding, begging, hair pulling, dirty talk, protected/unprotected sex, car sex, overstimulation

The pain of standing in your best heels like this didn’t bother you, nor did the footboard of your bed digging into your stomach as you were bent over it. The ticking clock synced up in time with the rattling bedframe reminded you how late it was getting, but the increasing tempo informed you that you were in no danger of completely missing your party.

Usually you waited until after you were dressed and at a party to start teasing your husband in hopes of earning a nice punishment for your actions, but you were impatient enough to start before you left and were now facing the repercussions of your actions; or rather taking them from behind.

Erwin being the brilliant tactician that he is was one step ahead of you and formed a plan to deal with you the minute you gave him that look while slowly rolling your thigh high stocking up your leg. The next thing you knew you were burying your face into the sheets and ruining your expertly done makeup.

He felt different with the condom on, at least since it had been so long since he wore one. He was explaining the reason for it in his scolding authoritative voice but you were much too blissed out to even pay attention.

"Are you listening?" He asked, changing his tone drastically.

"Yeah." You lied, whining into the sheets.

He laughed. "If only you were this agreeable all the time."

Approaching your second orgasm, or possibly your third, they were all starting to blend together. You felt that familiar ache in your core, wanting Erwin to join you and to feel him finish inside you. The usual risks and implications that drove you wild just thinking about them didn't have the same impact all because of a thin layer of latex. Reaching behind, you prompted him to take your hand and lean in a little bit closer.

"I'll be good all night, I promise. Please just take it off." You begged fruitlessly.

"Now now, you wouldn't learn your lesson if I did that." He scolded you, his voice heavy on the edge of an orgasm.

"But wouldn't it feel so much better to cum inside? You don't even have to pull out, you can just keep me stuffed full." You suggested, words emphasized in little whines and the occasional gasp.

Only reacting with a deep chuckle, patting your butt gently knowing you would have rather had him spank you. "You're cute when you beg, but there's no getting out of this."

"You want to get me pregnant don't you?" You asked in a final attempt at persuasion.

Erwin gently weaved his fingers into your hair, tilting your head to the side so he could lean in and whisper low in your ear. "You're all mine, and I can breed you whenever I feel like it."

The bass in his growling tone was too much for you to handle, sending you into another orgasm that caused everything below your waist go softly numb while the tingling spread through your whole body. Only staying upright and off the floor by the vice grip his large held on your hips that was getting tighter and tighter.

Insides still churning with every brutal thrust, you couldn't even moan anymore when you came together with him one last time. Just a groan while you felt the condom fill up in you, as disappointed as you were it still felt so good to be full like that. You wanted him to stay, buried deep inside until the afterglow faded but that could take all night. Instead he decided to pull out, throw the condom away and check his watch, leaving you cold on the bed unable to come back to reality.

"We're gonna be late, hurry up and get ready." He told you before leaving, emphasized with a soft smack on your butt.

"Do we still have to go?" You groaned, dragging yourself off the bed and stumbling toward the mirror at the other end of the bedroom.

"I do, and I'm leaving with or without you." He shouted from down the hallway. "Have you seen that tie I bought yesterday?"

"On the kitchen table." You answered, unsure of how you even remembered your own name let alone where he left his damn tie.

Checking the damage in your reflection and seeing the absolute wreck that was now your makeup you made quick work of wiping away the smudged lipstick and streaks of mascara on your cheeks. Before you could reapply the lipstick a hand caught your wrist, Erwin standing behind you wanted to sneak in a quick kiss so he wouldn't make a mess. He moved down to your neck while you finished your makeup, running his hands everywhere he could reach while you melted into his touch.

"You're gonna have to explain why I'm limping to the party." You teased.

"You knew what you were doing when you picked out that dress." He answered.

"I can change it for you if you want." You offered, knowing how much of a pathetic simp you sounded like and loving every second of it.

"No..." He mused for a moment before answering bluntly. "I want you to show everyone what they can't have."

"Yes, sir." You purred.

Driving to the party was a blur, as was walking in and being greeted by other guests. The rest of the night your eyes were glazed over in a post orgasmic haze that just wouldn't fade even after hours of socializing, people would talk to you and your voice and body went on auto pilot finding a way to politely end a conversation so your mind could wander back to hours earlier and think of what would happen when you got home.

You were never far from Erwin, he would constantly put his arm around you while talking to someone or hold your hand while leading you around to meet people. It was hard to tell who was being more clingy as you would just cuddle up to him everytime he pulled you close.

The party wasn't even over by the time you left, even saying goodbye to your friends seemed like it would take longer than you had patience for so the two of you snuck outside quietly back to his car while the lights and noise in the house faded into the distance. He wasn't too impatient to come around and open the door for you, only it wasn't until you were shoved inside and fell on the seat that you realized he opened the back door.

Pressing you between his body and the cool leather seats as he climbed in after you, you molded to him instinctively and perfectly as you wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms over his shoulders. He had left you so satisfied earlier it was no more need inside, even when his fingers had started to tease your oversensitive entrance just right. All you wanted was to touch him, hold him, kiss him while he moaned feeling of you.

Still so wet and ready from before Erwin had no trouble sliding in and moving right away, the lazy self indulgent jerks were a far cry from his usual controlled calculated thrusts. Even the noises he made were out of the ordinary for him, breathy moans just verging on a whimper, showing how pathetically drunk he was on you.

The whole car was starting to rock while the windows collected fog, even if someone were to notice you doubted he would care. It was his car, his woman, he would do whatever whenever he wanted; you held him a little tighter to remind him of that.

A little moan escaped from your mouth when his pace picked up, he was so close and you realized you were too. The image of him losing all self control so deep in you made your core hungry for all of him.

"Inside... Inside..." You babbled, letting him know where you wanted him to finish as if he would anywhere else.

It was hard to tell who came first, your tired legs only jerked a little feeling more of a relief than a climax. Erwin still breathless as warm bursts filled you up, not as much as he would have without the condom earlier but enough to finally fill that void in your core. He didn't make any move to pull out but you kept your legs wrapped tight around him anyway, keeping your warm bodies tangles together for as long as you possibly could.

All you wanted to do was fall asleep in his arms, and he apparently felt the same the way he rested his head in the crook of your neck and eased his weight onto you. The more time passed however the more you were sure that you didn't want to wake up in the car a few hours later and regret your decisions, so reluctantly you started to rouse Erwin.

"Hey, it's time to go." You told him, earning a stubborn groan though you continued to try and push him away.

He lifted off of you, keeping you caged in his arms for a moment while staring down at you and touching a hand to your cheek. "I wish I could keep you like this forever."

You pulled him down for one more sweet lingering kiss before pushing him away again. "C'mon take me home."

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Ghost x City Girl Reader

No pair of people hated each other more than you and Ghost. To him, you were just another loud-mouthed, obnoxious, and immature little princess needing to be humbled. To you, he was just a boring, broody asshole hellbent on not liking you. Things between you two couldn't be any worse. And then, tonight happens…

Tags: Hatemance, Teasing, Flirting, Banter, Sexual Tension, Messy Reader, Ghost is mean

A/N: So I've never actually written a hatemance before and it's actually hard af. I just finished the Ghost x City Girl Smut hatemance I was writing, however, I decided to split it into two parts and it's been a bitch to edit. So I wanted to post a snippet to tide over the wait and also get feedback if you've any on how to write hatemances. Please enjoy this snippet! (˵¯͒〰¯͒˵)

Full Story Here!

NOTE: This is roughly proofread and subjected to slight changes in the final draft (but this is most definitely what it's probably gonna be).

The presence of another human at Ghost's side brings his eyes drearily over, until they've begrudgingly fallen onto you. It seems you grew bored of dancing, and now decided it was time to take your teasing to the source itself.

"Enjoy the show?" you ask him teasingly, knowing you'll most likely not receive a reply, which you don't. Ghost doesn't even fully face you, keeping his eyes pointed ahead of himself at the bar. He hadn't been looking to talk, and it's not like his reply would change anything you had to say. You did invite yourself over.

"You know, Manchester," You lean against the bar, looking up at the man, just close enough to hear him over the club music and smell the cologne and cigarette smoke on him. "Instead of starin' like a creep, why don't you actually take that stick out your ass and come dance."

Now you're just taking the piss. Ghost finally gives you a look, though he wishes he hadn't. Up close, he's seeing this skimpy little, lowcut tight dress you've got on, with your fishnet stockings and heels. The black choker around your neck was simple, and just begging for someone to tug it off you, and the lipgloss you wore looked like it tasted sweet on your tongue.

Years of training and experience are everything it takes to keep his eyes from dropping any lower than your collarbone. Just in his peripherals, Ghost can see how bouncy and voluptuous they sat in your dress.

You got this cocky look on your face now. "I'll dance with you."

Ghost scoffs. "Not a chance."

"Aw, I get it," you say sarcastically. "I wouldn't want to embarrass myself out there either."

"This place can only handle so much of that with you already out there."

This conversation felt as old as time between you two. If it wasn't you being catty and mean, then it was Ghost being aloof and guarded. While you knew he had been implying your little performance on the dance floor earlier, you were as quick with your tongue as your lieutenant.

And you can't lie, you'd been itching for some good banter all night. You'll take it from anyone, even from the likes of Ghost.

"Please," you laugh. "As if your big ass could actually move out there. I bet you can't even do the two-step."

"I'm sure you'd wanna know," Ghost says.

You reach over, and by your own boundless curiosity, take his drink, inviting yourself to a sip. The bourbon burns your throat as you swallow, your nose scrunching. You smile as you see Ghost's gaze razor focus on your lips pressing to the cool glass of his drink, taking a small sip and letting your tongue chase its remnants over your bottom lip. It's just the way he does so, so unabashedly, that you can't help but giggle at.

"I already know everything I need to, honey."

Ghost turns his body to fully face you now, his massive height over you only now becoming apparent by the shadow it casts. It's intimidated most of the women at the club tonight, whenever Ghost wouldn't just do it himself. No such thing went on with you, however.

He's been sitting here by himself all night, and as much as he could list a plethora of others he'd prefer to be standing here with at the moment, he had you. If you'd use him for your own uncaring amusement, then he'll do the same, since you want to bring that side out of him so badly.

"And what's that?" he asks.

"That you're boring as fuck and have a stick up your ass," you say bluntly. Of course, Ghost didn't expect any less from you. You do this sober, just with less pep to your speech, unlike now. "Though I'm sure you're already aware of that."

"How original," Ghost says dryly. "It take you long to think that one up?"

"I only tell it like I see it."

"Wha' then," Ghost's gaze turns stone cold, doing all it can not to give you a way in. "Gaz wasn't enough? Now you've come to make yourself easy pickin's for the next sorry lad lookin' for an easy lay?"

"Ooo, feisty." You lean in now, resting your hand on the bar counter so you could prop yourself up, giving yourself what little height you can against your unmoving opponent.

"I wouldn't fuck you if you paid me," you say.

"I wouldn't fuck you for charity."

"I wouldn't fuck you if my life depended on it," you shoot back. "As if you could even handle me, Manchester."

"What's there to handle?" he taunts. "You're nothin' but talk. You bark like a bitch and puff your chest, but it's all show. Just a way to make yourself feel big. No surprise you make yourself the local slag; any lad with some sense surely wouldn't bother."

Oh, that comment strikes a nerve; you feel your eyebrow twitch and your blood begin to simmer the second he closes his stupid, British mouth.

"Who're you callin' a bitch and a slag?" You step up now like there's a problem now. "How about you come back with some new material when you can actually talk to me without that little safety blanket on your face, Manchester. It's easy to talk shit when you've got something to hide behind. And you call me unoriginal."

You take his drink and pour it out on the counter now, watching it spill over the surface and drip onto the floor. When you meet his gaze again, if looks could kill, you'd both be dead. You just wasted a good cup of fucking bourbon.

"Do somethin' about it," you taunt him.

He steps forward, and for a small second, you think the man might actually do something. However, it had merely been an intimidation tactic, a warning. He stops just a few inches shy of you, keeping his strong arms crossed over his chest.

Ghost would love to, oh, believe him. It's taking all of him not to say something really foul to you and truly ruin the whole night for everyone. And you don't stop at the drink either.

You step even closer now, keeping your head cocked back and your eyes on him. You're close enough now to feel the body heat bouncing off from him, vibrating the more irritated he grew.

"Do something," you say again. "You just gonna let some slag pour your drink out like that?"

You raise your hand up as though you're about to smack him, and that's what finally gets him to move. Ghost catches your tiny wrist in his hand, his grip tight as he holds you there.

"What the fuck-" You grimace at first, your fight-or-flight instincts telling you to try and tug your hand out of his grip and use your other to sock him straight. However, something differently entirely occurs in you suddenly.

You take a moment to really feel his hand on your wrist, how the slightest adjustment of his thumb made a chill trickle up your arm, and that he was the closest he's ever stood next to you outside of work. The man might irritate you, and he was an asshole, but Goddamn did he have an inviting pair of hands and some magnetic eyes on him. Eyes that seemed just as curious to outline all the makings of your figure.

You kind of like this.

[annabthesolitarywriter]

IMPORTANT!

I've seen some of my moots post New Year Resolution lists/To-do lists so I thought I'd share mine. It contains important information my mutuals deserve to know.

I suppose you all don't remember my WIP The Lady of Ithilien.

Don't worry, it's a very small thing I've never really talked about. Enna? Eönwë? I don't know who these people are (just kidding, of course). Well, I have to announce that it will no longer be a WIP. It won't be a WIP for a long time, since I don't plan on posting new chapters until the latter part of this year and possibly even early 2026.

Much has changed since I posted chapter 3 back in April. I've created many, many, many OCs and some of them will appear in the story quite soon. As such, I need to have them completely (or semi-completely) figured out (full names, lineage, background, personality and role within the plot) BEFORE I start writing about them.

This is why answering character asks will be my main priority for early 2025 at the very least. I need to know who my characters are before I write them and make a mess. Please send as many asks as you can (even random questions), so that I can flesh them out as much as possible. Even stupid questions are okay. Seemingly stupid questions—I reckon questions are never stupid—are actually the best because they force me to think. Trust me, I do need to think 😂 it's the overthinking part that which I don't like.

I was re-reading the LOI prologue last night and I couldn't help but notice how different Ioreth's personality is if compared to how I wrote her character just two chapters later. She sort of has some of the same traits, but she's much more gentle and understanding in the prologue than she is later, and I don't think Enna "misbehaving" could trigger such a massive change in her personality if she hadn't shown signs of being a complete b*tch beforehand. Luckily for me, I haven't written much yet, so that issue could be easily solved by deleting the prologue and reposting it separately as a general introduction to Enna as a character. I have already copied the prologue in my AO3 drafts in case I decide go through with it, but I will wait a while longer before I make a decision since I'm notoriously volatile and change my mind every five seconds about everything. This example is just to show how writing instinctively and without thinking can impact things in the long run, so I definitely need to develop my characters. That's the first thing I intend to do this year.

Second, I need to finish the Tolkien OC Week one-shots that should've been done by the end of this past August. I am still working on the one-shot for Day 5 and I have changed my mind about the prompt for Day 6 at least a billion times. I have to expand the one for Day 7 and finish the one-shot for day 1 (Maiarin world-building is the stuff of nightmares).

Plus, I need to make sure that I don't further change my mind about things I've already written, which is something I unfortunately always end up doing. I change my mind all the time and it's honestly kind of debilitating at this point. I feel like I'll never finish anything and it's disheartening.

I legit can't stop coming up with newer ideas that I think are better than the old ones and replacing stuff I've already written with new scenarios. The thing is, my excitement wears off pretty quickly and I soon get even better ideas that quickly replace the new ones. It's a never-ending cycle which needs to stop ASAP.

I do plan to make some changes to the LOI chapters I've already posted. I'll edit the story before I resume posting later this year/next year. I've planned the following changes so far:

Possibly take out the prologue and reposting it separately [the reasons for this change are mentioned above]. Should that be the case, LOI will start with chapter 1. I haven't really made up my mind about this though. I kind of don't want to delete it because, in doing so, I would lose all my comments and comments are very important to me, but I suppose I could screenshot them, print them and frame them 😂

Change Eönwë's Quenya lines in what is now Chapter 2 to Valarin. I mean, the guy is basically in a coma and starts speaking in a second/third language? I know that Maiar and Valar are supposed to be more or less masters of all languages, but I think it would make much more sense if he muttered stuff in Valarin rather than Quenya. I did not think of this when I first wrote the chapter a year ago and I wasn't not yet obsessed with Turkish period dramas.

Carefully review the parts of Chapter 4 that I have already written and make major adjustments. Write new parts that make more sense considering the events that have just occurred story-wise (don't worry, I won't discard anything. The "current" chapter 4 will be pushed back in the timeline and possibly become Chapter 7 or 8.

Pay a lot more attention to grammar and spelling. I usually don't mind it when other writers make spelling mistakes, but when it happens to me...it's a whole other matter entirely. I've been learning English for a long time and the fact that I still make that kind of mistakes—mostly due to distraction—really irks me. I'm talking capitalization issues, wrong vowels and such. I know how to write correctly and I cannot stress how I roll my eyes whenever I spot misspelled words I perfectly know how to write. And it usually happens after re-reading the same paragraph four or five times.

Stop adding lore to asks I've already posted. How are people going to keep up if I keep adding more and more things? I literally posted the Eleniel/Celebrían ask on New Year's Day and I've edited the post twice already because I obviously came up with slightly different concepts and ideas. It's been two days and I have no doubt I'll come up with slightly different variations of things anytime I re-read the post. I don't think it's fair to the person who sent the ask (@lucifers-legions in this case, but it could be anyone) to keep changing things. I never do it on purpose (it's more of an impulse things), but I need to make decisions and stick to them. People should be able to read the answers to my asks without stressing over what I'm going to change. This applies to everyone sending asks (anons and mutuals alike), but it's even more important when someone is borrowing your characters for their story. So, I plan to be better and I really hope I will succeed. Also, constantly updating things is not good for me either (I forget half of the stuff and get confused, which is...not ideal)

Try and work on all the other asks I have queued. They include a second unusual OC/creator questions ask from @fishing4stars, four more from @lucifers-legions (three character asks and one fic-request), one from @dilettantefeminist, one from @jhelenivarsimae, one from @quillofspirit and two from @saurongorthaur9 (one character ask and one fic-request). I have started some of these and for others I had ideas which I momentarily abandoned/discarded. What I am trying to say is that I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN about these and that I'm working on them. I wish I could put things out more quickly, but...you know me by now. I'm slow. And I wish I wasn't.

Try and be more organized. I have a bunch of random files and notes that need to be neatly stored somewhere. My brain is a mess as it is and it doesn't need any more distractions.

Speaking of distractions...Tumblr (and social media in general) happens to be one. While I love scrolling through my feed here...it prevents me from actually writing and planning. Which is why I think it won't be surprising if I take even longer breaks from it. Despite this, I would like to keep in contact with all the awesome people I've met on here so. You can text me on Insta (I can give it to you via text on here) or you can email me if you like. Just text me and we'll talk about it. I'll still come back to Tumblr every once in a while (I'll never deactivate my account or things like that), but...I think I need to take drastic measures to stay focused and actually update my fics. I'll come back here to reply to the asks I get and to comments and texts I might get, but I don't think I'll ever be as active as I once was. Maybe I will be again one day, but I need to work on my concentration skills first (I honestly think I might have ADHD and I kind of would like to get it checked out. I've been doing some reading about it and most of the symptoms I have are a match for ADHD. It might also not be the case, but...I don't know.)

Update (sometime down the line) my masterlist, make it more pretty to look at and make a headcanon list to be kept in my files and also to be posted here. Most of my asks are buried somewhere and I need to keep them all in the same place so that I can easily find them. Not urgent, but also...quite urgent.

All in all, I would like to thank all of you for your continued support and thank you for putting up with me. 💕

I understand I can be a pain and I'm sorry (I'm honestly starting to think Enna and I are the same person. She's just way more unlucky)

PS: *As a testament to my overthinking, it seems I cannot stop thinking about that darn prologue (it's been LITERAL HOURS since I first queued this post and it's been haunting me ever since). Ioreth's characterization is my main issue with it at the moment, but, on second thoughts, I suppose that the whole "personality change" issue could be attributed to her acting nice while Enna was a young child in an attempt to gain her trust and manipulate her into thinking that she was way better than her mother. That's kind of plausible. She basically gaslighted her throughout her childhood and started showing her true colors when Enna grew up and started to "rebel". Okay, that's more or less fine, I suppose.

It's just that the prologue is set in Ithilien and the first chapter is literally a year later in Minas Tirith and she's already met Mairon. Mmm...🤔

Should I add a few chapters in between showing Enna's pre-drama daily life, her lessons with the most sensible tutor in Middle-earth aka Finnas, her moving to Minas Tirith with Faramir and Elboron, introduce her two main attendants and address the differences between her life in Ithilien and in Minas Tirith? Should I also include a chapter where she meets Mairon and he starts manipulating right off the bat?

I'm literally debating whether I should rewrite the story from the start [the most complicated option what will probably cause me to abandon the fic altogether], add the extra chapters between the prologue and Chapter 1 [if that ends up happening, the prologue will go back to being Chapter 1 and the other chapters will follow accordingly], or just delete the prologue and leave everything else as it is now [the easiest option]

In any case, I doubt I'll be able to post anything before next October/November, my ultimate deadline being early to mid 2026.

IF I DON'T UPDATE BY THEN...then you're allowed to consider the story officially discontinued/abandoned.

Writing LOI requires a lot of work and hopefully finishing off the one-shots first will give me inspo and motivation to work on the story. If not, Elenwë and all my OCs will only live in my mind and in the one-shots that are already posted.

Also, all the planned fics I listed on my masterlist... probably won't happen either. Let's be realistic, I'll never ever get to them in this lifetime. I get distracted too often, I can't meet deadlines and I'm never satisfied with my own work. I am never happy about it. Perhaps I'm just not cut out for writing. Maybe I should stop writing right this instant.

Lastly, I would like to thank all of my moots for their unwavering support. I have met so many wonderful people here and, even if I stop writing, I'll always keep reading and commenting!