#time for my routine demand for attention and then disappear

[lecsainz]

A headcanon of Percy Jackson x reader daughter of Zeus, where he has been in love since the first day he saw her, and he had also recently arrived at the camp, please

˒ ⌕ SHE IS LIKE THUNDER

parings: percy jackson x zeus!reader

an:I know I disappeared, forgive me 🤧, but picture me writing this at 3 AM, dying of sleepiness after watching the last episode of PJO, AND ANNIE USED THE NICKNAME 😭 THIS EPISODE IS STILL TOO MUCH FOR ME TO PROCESS!!!!

summary: the one where you're a daughter of zeus, exploring your relationship with percy.

( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )

You and Percy crossed paths during one of your training sessions. Luke was giving Percy a tour of the camp, and when Percy laid eyes on you, he halted abruptly, as if struck by lightning. For some inexplicable reason, he felt an urgent need to know who you were, as if the gods themselves demanded it.

Percy's eyes widened as he observed you from across the training grounds. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing a finger in your direction. Luke suppressed a chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Her? Oh, that's Y/N, daughter of Zeus." Percy squinted, trying to decipher your actions, as you accidentally summoned a small lightning bolt that fizzled out near your feet. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Does that happen often?" Luke grinned. "Only when she's particularly excited, which, by the way, is most of the time. You should see her during thunderstorms!" Percy blinked, watching as you waved sheepishly, causing another faint spark to crackle in the air.

You and Percy found common ground in venting about the gods upon his arrival.

"Hey, little thunder, how's it going?" Percy grinned. "Don't call me that," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. "I'm good too, thanks for asking, Lightning Rod," Percy joked, emphasizing his newfound nickname for you.

Attempts at using your powers together proved futile, as water and electricity didn't exactly make for a harmonious combination.

According to Percy, Cabin 3 was way too big for just him, and assuming you felt the same way about Cabin 1, he started a tradition. At 12:00, he'd show up at your cabin, asking to share it, turning into a routine of hosting pajama parties in each other's cabins.

After you discovered that your half-sister, Thalia, had been turned into a pine tree to save her, Percy couldn't resist teasing you about it.

"Do you think your dad would turn you into, what, a fountain? Or maybe a cherry blossom tree would suit you?" Percy grinned, enjoying the opportunity to rib you. "Jackson, shut up," you retorted, rolling your eyes at his antics. Later, when Grover and Annabeth intervened, trying to keep you two from frying each other, Percy couldn't resist a parting shot. He had soaked you with water from a nearby forest stream during the mission, leaving you drenched and fueling your desire to electrocute him. "Next time you want to electrocute Percy, make sure I'm not around," Annabeth teased as they separated you, noticing your soaked state. Grover, being the peacekeeper, started singing the song of friendship, encouraging both of you to hug it out and apologize. Percy, however, observed that you were shivering from the cold as you walked. Realizing this, he handed you his jacket, concerned. "You'll catch a cold if you stay wet like this," he said, offering you warmth amidst the chilly aftermath of your water-based altercation.

Since neither you nor Percy admit to having feelings for each other, you find yourselves in constant teasing and banter.

During a mission, you two start a squabble because you want to lead everything, and he just wants to do his thing or isn't paying attention to what you're saying. Grover and Annabeth exchange glances, seeking a way to mediate.

It takes a long time before you muster the courage to admit you have feelings for the son of Poseidon. You decide to confess first because, knowing Percy, it would take ages if you waited for him.

"Percy, I need to talk in case we don't get out of here." "Spark Plug, we're getting out of here; trust me." "I like you, Seaweed Brain." He stands there in shock, mouth hanging open, unable to believe that you like him back.

After Percy managed to confess that he also liked you, you enjoyed teasing him about his stunned reaction. But deep down, you were terrified that he might have said he didn't like you back.

Percy becomes incredibly protective of you.

"Touch her, and you'll be dead."

You love stormy days and spend hours on the beach with Percy because he can control the water, ensuring you both stay dry.

"Isn't it beautiful?" "What, little storm?" You pause, gazing out at the tumultuous sea, the waves crashing against the shore. "It's like the ocean is in harmony with this storm. It's as if they understand each other, finding peace in the chaos." "Maybe," Percy finally responds, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Maybe storms and the sea have a way of finding peace in chaos because they understand that even in the wildest moments, there's a certain kind of order."

You appreciate the profound simplicity of his words, and in that moment, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. For the first time in a long while, you feel at home

[bunicate]

rambling abt diluc’s relationship with his sister from the maid, adelinde’s pov ♡ im pretti sure dis was an ask I received on my old blog too ! !

adelinde didn’t have much expected of her besides her daily cleanings and the occasional rotation of taking out the trash, but recently she’s been burdened with the task of looking after you.

you’re a troublesome girl to tend to.

she would never say it out loud or let her feelings show, but master diluc had you spoiled rotten. you were the only one allowed to disturb him in his study and demand the most menial things for the sake of his attention. 

you're often half-naked and oversleeping when you weren't bothering him.

she frequently dresses you, and brushes your hair so you could look presentable in front of your brother, and you would insist on only the shortest dresses and skirts. or flat out refuse to have your blouse buttoned all the way. she wouldn’t dare to speak out of turn, but your bosom was nearly visible at all times. 

she doesn’t acknowledge her master's subtle glances towards the swell of your chest, or his hand that rests too closely to your bottom.

you both were closer than most siblings. that she knows, the other maids all witnessed it but wouldn’t speak of it lest their master would catch them.

it was an enjoyable job, and it would be a shame to lose it because diluc caught their loose lips flapping away.

adelinde was quick to regard the interactions as siblings who simply cherished each other.

although you’re a handful, you’re also sweet and thoughtful, and she could see why diluc treated you as such. she often helps you clean up your messes from making strawberry tarts, and other little gifts that you give diluc. by the end of the day, you’d be exhausted, and each time she’d lay a blanket over your slumbering body when you waited up late for diluc.

she’d watch you until she’s interrupted by her master's arrival. 

“thank you, adelinde. you may go for the night. i’ll take care of her from here,” he’d say.

like routine, she’d bow.

“well then. goodnight master diluc.”

she would watch him slowly collect your body within his grasp, gentle enough not to disturb you from slumber. 

he’d pull back the hair that obstructs your face and adelinde could never forget the look of utter tenderness that seeped into his visage.

a certain kind of love unbinds the furrow of his brow and eases the tension in his broad shoulders. his figure would then disappear into your room, and that would be the last she saw of you both for the night. 

the next day when adelinde knocks on your door to come in, and you’re already awake.

your pajamas are revealing as always. a skimpy underwear and a strapless cotton top. your hair covers it, but she makes out the bruise on your neck, and she ignores it.

she tries not to appear uncomfortable when you walk downstairs in the same attire and diluc don't even seem phased. he just puts you on the kitchen counter, feeding you blueberries for breakfast.

touches and the palatable air isn’t enough to jump to conclusions, but she supposes she no longer had a choice anymore when she mistakenly walks into the living room and witnesses such a sweltering kiss.

her master trails his hands on the cheeks of your butt, groping the flesh while he buried his tongue in your mouth. 

adelinde is stunned at the sight. her master was kissing his little sister. 

a sensation she’s unfamiliar with runs down her body. his tongue is so much larger than yours, wrapping around your smaller one, swallowing your breathy cries. his hands cup your face, and it’s then she realizes how large those gloved fingers really are.

carefully, she watches them trail downwards, slipping into his pants to pull out his thickening and leaky member. 

adelinde , felt fear and a tinge of arousal.

he was going to insert his cock between your folds. your pretty silken folds, that sweltered with lust. his dick was hard and angry, and your body looked too perfect — too delicate to be touched.

adelinde licked her lips as diluc entered inside of you. your back arches and your tits jiggle from the comedown of his hips. he fucks into you at a rapid pace, and the sound of wetness on his cock destabilizes the maid's ability to react appropriately.

the moistness is audible between the slaps of skin and the loud cries.

the sheets darken with sweat and cum. your skin is bitten and then kissed, and your moans reverberate in the same room.

the air is hot and sticky and adelinde feels a knot in her belly. she quickly darts out into the corridor and begins to dread the following day. anxiety pricks at her skin at the fear of facing you both once more.

she knows that she’ll have to clean you up in the morning and face the dark truth about her master and his younger sister.

[angelbwrry]

excuse errors, just something before I sleep.ft my man choso❤︎︎

mature content ahead,18+

You can sense the tension in the air as soon as you walk into the room. Choso is sitting on the couch, his eyes flicking over his phone screen, but you can tell he's not really paying attention. He hates seeing you like this, burdened by the weight of college assignments and the relentless demands of life. It's a familiar scene, one that plays out far too often for his liking.

You drop your bag on the floor with a heavy thud, feeling the exhaustion seep into your bones. The stress is like a constant companion, gnawing at the edges of your mind, making it hard to focus on anything else. You can feel Choso's eyes on you, filled with concern and a touch of frustration. He wants to help, to take away the burden, but he doesn't know how.

You move to the kitchen, mechanically going through the motions of making a cup of tea. The steam rises, curling in the air, but it does little to soothe your frayed nerves. Choso stands up, his movements quiet and deliberate. He walks over to you, his presence a comforting weight at your back. He doesn't say anything, but you can feel his silent support, the way he wishes he could take all your stress and make it disappear.

You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. The warmth of the tea cup in your hands is grounding, but it's Choso's unwavering presence that truly begins to ease the tension. He wraps his arms around you from behind, his embrace firm yet gentle. It's his way of telling you that you're not alone, that he's here and he cares.

You lean into him, letting his strength bolster your own. The stress is still there, a persistent shadow, but with Choso by your side, it feels a little more manageable. You know he hates seeing you like this, and in his silent, steadfast way, he's doing everything he can to help you through it.

"Babe, I think we should just relax tonight. No assignments, just us and some takeout. Please?" Choso mutters into your shoulder. It's a Friday night and you have a five-page essay due Monday, but the way Choso pleads, you can't possibly say no. You nod setting the hot mug down, turning around to drape your arms around his neck, a smile playing on your lips.

“Fine, but I get to pick dinner!” You mutter grinning against his lips.He nods,pulling your waist closer.

“As you wish princess.”

You’d showered, done your skincare routine, and now you were snuggled into Choso’s side watching Twilight. He hated this movie, but you liked it so he would endure it. You’d decided on Chipotle since you were craving it, and Choso had insisted on using DoorDash since he just wanted to relax with you. So you two were waiting, your stomach growling in anticipation.

Choso can’t help but sneak looks at you; you look so pretty to him. Your wet hair is pulled up into a high bun, one of his shirts hanging off your shoulders. It was way too big for you, but you didn’t care—it smelled like him and it was comfy. He bites his cheek to stop from smiling. God, he’s so lucky to have you. You notice his heartbeat thundering against his chest, and your glistening brown eyes peer up at him through wispy lashes.

“You okay baby?” You question, concern lacing your voice.

“M’fine,” Choso reassures, his thumb trailing over your bottom lip. Your lips were probably his favorite thing about you—they’re two-toned, plump, and so damn soft. He loves the way you always ask him about which lip combos to wear; he likes when you wear the brown liner with gloss. That’s his favorite.

Your lips meet in a tender kiss, soft and lingering. It’s as if time slows down, and the world around you fades away. Your breaths mingle, and you can feel the warmth of each other’s skin. The kiss is unhurried, a gentle exploration that speaks volumes of your affection. It’s a moment of pure connection, where nothing else matters but the feel of your lips together, savoring every second of the tender and long embrace.

“C-Choso,” you whine, feeling the heat between your legs grow.His kiss is slow and deliberate, sending waves of heat through your body. You can feel your heart racing as his hands gently cup your face, pulling you closer. Every touch, every movement of his lips against yours, ignites a fire within you. Your breath hitches, and you feel a deep, stirring desire building with each tender kiss. His closeness, his scent, everything about him turns you on, making you crave more.

“Let me take care of you,” he mutters against your lips, his large hands finding their way under the shirt you’re wearing. You bite your lip as your stomach swirls, your breath hitched as you anticipated his next move, your legs falling open of their own accord, inviting him to explore further.

And explore he did. Choso's fingers ghosted over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, inching ever closer to your core. you felt your hips buck slightly as his touch danced over your most intimate areas, teasing you, building the anticipation. Choso swiftly pulls your underwear to the side, your arousal dripping from you. He knows you need this, and the intensity in his eyes tells you he’s ready to give you everything you desire. His breath was hot on your neck, sending shivers down your spine, swiftly, he pulls your underwear to the side,his thumb finding your throbbing clit, circling it gently.

His middle finger dips into you, and you moan softly, the subtle stretch making your head spin. "So wet," he coos, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. He gently fingers you, the subtle gushing of your juices on his fingers filling both of your ears. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can’t help but lose yourself in the pleasure he’s giving you.

"M’feels so f’cking g-good," you whine, head dropping back as he slides his pointer finger in you. It’d been weeks since you and Choso had done anything sexually; you were too stressed with the weight of life, and he understood. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed his touch; the way his fingers are digging into you makes you wanna scream. He’s passionately slow, he likes you way you squirm each time his fingers brush against your cervix.

"Oh, God..." you moan, your head falling back as the pleasure began to build. Choso's fingers were skilled, knowing exactly how to touch you, how to tease and please you. He worked slowly, methodically, his fingers sliding inside you, his thumb continuing to work its magic on your clit. You’re soaking wet, your juices coating his hand as he finger-fucks you slowly, deeply.

With each thrust of his fingers, Choso pushed you further toward the edge. Your legs spread wider, encouraging him to go deeper, harder. His fingers curve to hit your sweet spot, and you cry out, your hips bucking off the couch. Choso holds you down, his free hand on your stomach, as he continues his relentless assault on your pussy, his thumb never ceasing its circular motions on your clit.

"S-hit.. oh, Choso... right there..." you groan, your body on fire, senses overwhelmed. Choso whispered dirty nothings in your ear, his hot breath sending spasms of pleasure through you. "You feel so good... so tight... I love how you're taking my fingers, baby."

His words push you over the edge, and you sob out as your orgasm hit, your body shaking with the force of it. Choso didn't stop, riding you through your climax, his fingers never slowing. You bucked and writhed beneath him as the pleasure intensified, juices flowing over his hand.

As your orgasm began to subside, Choso slowed his fingers, gently pulling them from your pussy. You felt empty for a moment, a delicious ache between your legs. But Choso wasn't done with you yet.

His fingers, slick with your arousal, trailed downward, over your sensitive inner thighs, and then back up, pausing to circle your hole gently. "Mmm, you like that, baby?" Choso whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

Without waiting for an answer, he gently pushed a finger inside, probing gently. You groan in bliss, your body yielding to him, accepting the intrusion. Choso added a second finger, stretching you, scissoring slowly as he worked his way in. Desperate hips rising to meet his fingers, encouraging him to go deeper.

"You feel so tight," Choso groaned, his breath hot and heavy on your neck. "So fucking tight. I love stretching you out, making you take all of me." His fingers work slowly, methodically, scissoring and twisting as he stretches your hole.

"Ahh... Choso... it feels s-so good..." you pant, your body on fire once more. Choso crooked his fingers, once again finding that spot inside you that sent electric shocks through your body. "Oh, fuck..."

As he finger-fucked your cunt Choso reached down with his other hand, his fingers finding your swollen clit again. He rubbed slow, firm circles, applying just the right amount of pressure as he worked your most sensitive spot.You were lost in a haze of pleasure, your body bucking and squirming as he worked you toward another climax.

"That's it, baby, cum for me again," Choso whispered, his fingers working furiously. "Cum all over my fingers, take what you need." His demand sent you spiraling over the edge, and you nearly scream out, your body shaking as another powerful orgasm hit. Choso kept working your clit through your climax, milking every last drop of pleasure from you.

Finally, as your orgasm subsided, Choso slowed his fingers, gently pulling them from your pussy. You’re exhausted,utterly spent, your body boneless and satisfied. Choso leaned down, his breath hot on your ear. "That was incredible, but I want more," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "I want to feel that tight pussy and ass wrapped around my cock now."

You peer over at him, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

And as Choso pulled you up from the couch, you felt his hard length pressing against you, and you knew that the night was far from over. In fact, it was just the beginning...

[telvess]

RoR: How they seek attention (Hades, Jack, Leonidas)🔞

I don't know how title it. I don't know why I wrote this in such form.

Hades

He’d give you smut to read. No kidding. He just leaves it at the dressing table for you. He then continues his daily routine, effectively pretending nothing happened.

At the end of the day, when you take a bait and read in his presence, Hades watches you from his safe spot (where he drinks wine or plays chess with his parrot). He is looking for any sign that you'd reached the right moment in the plot.

Once you give yourself away, he drops what he is currently doing and quietly joins you on the couch. He puts his arm around you and slowly massages your waist. At this point you already know what’s going on and he knows you know.

— What are you reading, my queen? — he asked with a smile, indifferently. — The interesting part — you replied. You didn’t want to give him a smile yet so you continued to stare at the book, even if content stopped interesting you. — Hmm… would you dare read this out loud? — his lips next to your ear made you shiver. What a sly husband you had. — As his hand slowly moved towards the inside of her thighs, his lips closed hers in a steamy kiss that took her breath away. His tongue made its way inside and explore a new place in wild, intense dance-e… — you stopped. Hades began leaving small kisses on your temple. His finger was caressing your jaw when other hand started to undoing your dress. You felt little buzz on your back from this barely perceptible touch. As the straps of your dress slipped down, a cool breeze on exposed skin made you blush. You hoped you could hide behind curtain of hair but Hades - as if he reading your thoughts - immediately tucked your hair behind your ear. — What’s next? — he asked calmly. He leaned down to give your naked neck kisses. You took a deep breath and looked at the book with trembling hand. You couldn’t remember where you finished reading, nor did you care what was happening there anymore, so you started reading a random paragraph. — Warmth risen under her belly, between legs, where his hand was heading… — Hades gave you a hickey which made you moan — She felt something was growing there and demanded to be satisfied… — you stopped and looked at him — Are you proud of yourself? — you asked but he didn’t give you any answer; his lips didn’t leave your neck. — You should be… — you whispered. You melted under the touch of his lips. The book fell off the couch, but neither of you cared about that poor written work anymore. — You know that you could just ask — you said, forcing him to look at you. Hades smiled. — Yes, but what a waste that would be. You should read to me more, my queen.

Jack

Jack probably doesn’t have high sex drive or he is very good at ignoring it. Of course everyone has their limits and Jack isn’t exception from this rule. If you don’t initiate any intimacy events for a longer time, at some point Jack’s will would crumble.

He has no idea how to suggest those kind of activities, he considers it inappropriate for a gentleman. Which probably leads to sudden loss of control.

You were sitting next to Jack in the arbour, enjoying good tea and cookies together. All your attention was focused on the book Jack had chosen for you. You weren’t very familiar with Shakespeare’s work but didn’t mind changing that. It required a lot of dedication from you because you had a trouble understanding some parts. Therefore, the process took much longer. You heard the sound of a spoon falling, but you didn’t take your mind off the book. Jack pushed away his chair, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw his head disappear under the table. You read long monologue, repeated it for better understanding but something was wrong. You frowned as you realized that Jack had frozen in a bent position. You took a better look at his face and followed his gaze, which led to your legs. Oh…, you thought. Usually you preferred to wear pants but today you chose a dress. It ended right below the knee and now that you were sitting cross-legged, Jack probably had a very good view of your legs covered with fishnet stockings. — Jack… — you said softly. Jack flinched; he came back to reality… wherever he was, and sat up straight. In your opinion, too rigidly. Your gaze fell to the floor again. — Spoon… — you mumbled and leaned down to pick it up. Apparently Jack hadn't quite recovered from his reverie because he did exactly the same thing and you two bumped heads. — Ouch! — My apologies, dearest — Jack said immediately. — No, it’s my fault… Your eyes met and suddenly Jack’s lips were on yours. You moaned with surprise, but deepened the kiss. You slowly straightened up without interrupting. Jack hands came around you, his fingers tightened on a dress as his tongue slipped between yours lips. Some sensation was born between your legs. You didn’t know when or how, but suddenly you felt his hand on your tight, his touch was leaving burning trace on your naked skin. All you could’ve thought about was his button shirt and how you wanted to rip it off. Before that could happen, you two separated, gasping for air. You looked away, feeling all the intense heat on your face. — This was not gentlemanly behaviour — you heard. You licked your lips. — Will I become less of a lady in your eyes if I say I liked it? Jack’s eyes brightened. — Not at all — was his answer. — Then let’s continue — you said with a smile.

Leonidas

Straight to the point. Why waste precious time for talking?

Sometimes though for some reason he likes to let things piss you off. He likes when you’re angry, it turns him on.

Leonidas was supposed to supervise your javelin throw training but instead he was reading another dull book. You threw javelin after javelin and none of them stuck in the ground. Frustration was slowly building in your chest as you hadn’t made progress in the last half hour. — Ugh! — Keep throwing, hon — you rolled your eyes. — Are you sure I am doing it right? — you asked through gritted teeth. — Yup — was his reply however from the tone of his voice you could tell that he was more concerned about his stupid book than your training. You took breathe in and out. He did it on purpose, didn’t he? Fine, two can play this game! You grabbed another javelin and tried again. Then repeat, then again, again and again. Calm and methodical. Until, out of the corner of your eye, you saw how impatiently Leonidas began to turn the pages. Until you felt his irritated gaze on your back and you almost gave yourself away. How easy it was to turn tables around. — Hon, wanna have some fun? — he asked finally, after abour fifteen minutes of silence and many javelins later. — You mean like boxing? — you asked innocently. Leonidas glanced at you over his book, which could basically shut anyone up. — I could do that with my men. I meant fun. You froze with javelin above your head. — Well technically you can do that with your men too — you sent the javelin flying, but the result was the same: it rolled along the ground. Pathetic. You flinched at the sudden creaking sound. — Look what a smartass we have here — Leonidas quickly moved towards you. You watched silently as he picked up two javelins from the ground, took the proper stance, and threw one of them. A javelin stuck in the ground like a strange flag many meters away. — I told you, put some strength into it! — Leonidas shouted at you as he placed a new javelin in your hand. He helped you take a correct stance, you felt his irritation but decided not to tease him yet — Eh, these weak arms of yours… Something has snapped inside you. You broke free from his grip. — We will see how you gonna cry under these weak arms of mine later, you jackass! — you yelled. The anger you felt earlier escalated to much greater size now. Leonidas smirked at your much smaller figure. His shirt tightened dangerously on his wide, muscled chest as if it were about to tear. — Oh, is the princess mad? — he mocked. — Piss off! You turned your back on him, otherwise you could have killed him on the spot. However, before you could leave, you felt a grip on your hand and a moment later you were pulled towards Leonidas. He picked you up and kissed without hesitation. You gasped with resentment at that audacity and began punching his chest. You felt him trying not to smile. The tight grip of Leonidas's arms around you didn't weaken for some time. — Now that’s the kind of fun I was looking for — he said once you had stopped. The kiss took your breath away but pride still demanded justice. You just looked at his smug face and tried to overcome your body's stupid excitement. — Let's take this elsewhere — he said. — Don’t you dare… NO! — you screamed as he threw you over his shoulder. — Screw you!

[eddieandbird]

Eddie Bossa Nova—

Loosely based on Billie Bossa Nova by Billie Eilish. You hook up with Rockstar Eddie Munson in his hotel suite.

tags/warnings: smut | 2.7k words | f!reader | rough | oral m!receiving | spanking | choking | pinv

———

Peering above a magazine that you weren’t reading, you watched Eddie speak with the receptionist. It took all of you not to roll your eyes as you overheard her saying she was a big fan. Soon he was making his way back to you sitting on one of the lobby chairs. He glanced around for anyone watching him before dipping down briefly to whisper in your ear

“Wait here for like five minutes, then follow me up. Room 160,” You’ve never heard a demand be spoken so sensually.

You shot him a wink to show you understood, then he disappeared into one of the elevators. Your heartbeat kept pace with the energetic music that played from the front desk. A pace that was unfortunately faster than the hands on the wall clock right above it. Four minutes and some change had passed before you tossed the magazine away and journeyed to his room.

You looked down both sides of the hallway before putting three heavy knocks on the door. He opened it with a sly grin.

“Room service,” You joked.

“Damn, they sure do work fast around here. Come in,” He chuckled and widened the door to signal you to enter. “Just set all that on the bed, sweetheart.”

You walked in hearing the click of the door shut. His footsteps followed behind you, his hands found their way to your hips as you both approached the bed.

You sat on the edge of the hotel bed before you laid back, propping yourself up on your elbows as your eyes watched every move of his. You almost scoffed as he heavily threw himself into the mattress to lay beside you.

“Do you make every girl you hookup with, do this silly little routine?” You tilted your head.

You understood perfectly why he did it. With Corroded Coffin dominating their world tour, Eddie had more eyes on him than ever. He couldn’t be risky and broadcast all of his escapades. The paparazzi were smart, but he always found his way around them.

He chuckled at your question, his eyes traveling around your body before moving to lay beside you. “Don’t get all jealous on me now, princess. You’ve already got me all to yourself, you don’t have to worry about anyone else.”

His hand began to trail up your arm, his fingers gently brushing across your arm before resting on your shoulder. His touch left flames on your skin, goosebumps growing on the trail. Your eyes fluttered in response. You looked over your shoulder and saw him deviously gazing at you, only adding to your butterflies.

“Don’t worry about it Mr. Munson, I know how this goes,” you retorted, attempting to look unamused.

“Feisty one we have here,” He hummed, letting his hand slide up further so his fingers were tracing your jawline, bringing your head towards him. Eddie brought his face closer to yours.

“So feisty in fact that you’re still talking when your time could be spent so much better using that pretty little mouth of yours.”

Eddie’s voice dropped an octave and it was like you were under a spell. You turned over and pressed your palms into the bed. You hovered above him slightly as you observed his arrogant stare.

“Straight to business huh? Am I cutting into your busy schedule, rockstar?” You quipped.

“No, no. For you-” His gaze darkened a bit as he smirked up at you. “I suppose I could make some time.”

His hands found their way to your hips. He pulled your body down against his so you were lying on top of him. His gaze shamelessly roamed down your body, clearly taking in every little detail before his attention was brought back to your face. You gave a breathless giggle as you settled on his chest. You slowly kicked your feet behind you as you twirled his shaggy hair in your fingers.

“My, my, don’t I feel special?” You smirked, feeling his eyes predatorily raking across your body.

You shifted upward, straddling him as you slipped your skimpy top over your head. You smiled wickedly at him as you sat there bare. A small amused laugh left his lips as he ran his hands up your partially exposed thighs before letting them rest on your waist.

“You should feel special,” Eddie’s eyes shamelessly took you in, his hands gently squeezing your hips. “Let me get a good look at you, sweetheart. You’re like a damn masterpiece.”

His comment painted an amused look on your face, flickers of light dancing in your eyes. You playfully posed with your hands behind your head like you were some Playboy cover.

“This good enough, Mr. Munson?” Confident giggles poured out of you as you made a show for him.

You blew kisses at him and whipped your hair around as if he had a camera out snapping photos of you.

“Damn, now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

A smile spread across his lips as he chuckled at your little poses. Every movement you made only enticed him further.

“You look real good like that,” Eddie spoke a bit more huskily.

“You are too sweet,” You whispered in his ear as you leaned over him once more. You took the opportunity of your chest distracting him to rid yourself of the rest of your clothes, kicking them off the side of the bed. Your red-painted lips left warm trails of kisses along his jaw, his rough stubble pricking your soft lips. A strong smell of aftershave and weed wafted from him, intoxicating you.

Eddie hummed in mild amusement at your compliment, almost chuckling as he spoke. “You’re damn right I am.”

There was something primal, almost feral in the way he looked at you. He took the opportunity to have your breasts in his palms, squeezing them eagerly. You continued your trail down his throat to the middle of his shirt. You unbuttoned it, placing a kiss at each notch. When you got low enough, you met his eyes. Eventually, you got to the button of his dark jeans.

“May I?” You asked, teasingly polite.

Eddie watched you with a hungry gaze that held just as much lust as you. He gave a nod, his breath hitching in his throat as he spoke. “By all means, sweetheart.”

He gently pushed your hair away from your face and behind your shoulder, out of your way. Your hands pulled down the zipper but he assisted you in taking off his jeans, forcefully kicking them off the bed with the rest of your outfit on the floor. His cock came down and made a smacking noise as it fell to his stomach. You were pleasantly surprised with the sheer size of him. You winked at him before kissing up it, base to tip. It twitched around your plump lips. Eddie swore under his breath as he involuntarily shuddered, his breathing slowly growing heavier as he cursed again. He tangled one of his hands in your hair.

“Damn it, babe,” His words were spoken in a growl as he watched you. As much as he’d like to take charge, he wanted you to take your time. He felt that you deserved to take your time.

He tried his hardest to keep his focus. “You’re gonna kill me here.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take real good care of you,” You took him in your hands, finally bringing him to his tongue. You gave a couple more teasing licks before sinking your wet mouth onto him.

You moaned against his length, mixing the sound with sultry giggles as you bobbed your head.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie managed to breathe out through a hitch.

He was unable to form a coherent sentence, his words only coming out as moans and grunts as he let you take your time. His hand clutched at the mattress as he desperately resisted the urge to buck his hips up to meet your mouth.

“You’re just so goddamn perfect,” He panted out, his chest rising and falling heavily.

You dug your french tips into his waist, leaving tiny marks on his skin. Wet, sputtering noises came from your mouth as you continued to take him. He didn't break your gaze even with Eddie struggling to keep his eyes open. You only grew more aroused as he twitched and resisted, moving violently. Eddie could feel his self-control bending with each passing second, threatening to break at any moment. His hand stayed tangled in your hair, his fingers clenching and unclenching in rhythm with his heavy breathing, as he fought to keep from getting lost in the sensation. A desperate growl left his lips as he tried to restrain himself.

“F-fuck, baby,” He barely got the words out through gritted teeth as he began to twitch and squirm beneath you. “You keep going like that I won’t last,“

A wet pop sounded out as you slipped him out of your mouth. Your jaw hung open with a subtle smile as you caught your breath. You sat up, still holding him in your hand as the other wiped up the saliva from your lips.

“You doin’ alright, rockstar?” You smirked breathlessly.

Eddie let out a shaky exhale in response, his chest rising and falling heavily as he slowly tried to regain his composure. “Doing just fine, I-“

He cut himself off with a low, almost involuntary moan as you gave him a few slow strokes, causing his hips to involuntarily buck against your hand. Your hand glided over him as it was shiny and slick with your spit.

“Sweetheart, you ain’t gonna make this easier for me,” He said panting.

“I got you, Mr. Munson. Just keep your eyes on me,”

You swung your leg over his waist, your back facing him. You bent over, one hand holding you up as you had his length angled against your entrance. You slid your hips forward and back, covering his length in your essence.

“Damn. That must be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Eddie practically growled out as he kept his gaze on you. He desperately wanted to touch you, but he was enjoying the show too much in the meantime. You winked at him over your shoulder before slowly sinking yourself onto his cock.

“Oh, Eddie,” You cried out. Your head stayed close to the mattress, only your hips moving up and down on him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” He breathed out. One hand gripped your hip while the other found its way under your chin, gently pulling your face back so you were more level with his.

Eddie gave two hard smacks to your ass, making you hiss. Your eyes fluttered as you repeatedly were grinding into him. Every thrust had him deeper inside you, causing you to give rhythmic whimpers. He sat up a bit and took hold of your chin, then pulled you up by your neck, and held you flush to him. His hold on your throat was gentle but firm, enough to keep you close as he brought his lips to your ear, the feeling of his breath warm against your skin. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” His voice was thick with desire and lust. “I wanna hear every pretty little noise you make.”

He nipped and bit at your neck, his teeth gently sinking into your skin, leaving behind subtle marks just enough to be visible. Eddie’s thrusts were deep and full of energy. The sheer vigor of them along with his hand on your throat made you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, it feels so good,” You mumbled, the movement heard clearly in your groans.

“Look at you princess, taking me so damn well,” He panted against your neck. “You like that, sweetheart? You want more?”

“Yes, please,” You managed to say in a choked moan.

Eddie pushed you further into the mattress, your face drooling into the sheets beneath you. He wrapped his rough hands around each of your hips and pulled you into him vigorously. You deliriously laughed into the mattress in between yelps from being swatted on your bottom. You could feel the sting of welts forming and reveled in the pain and pleasure.

“Damn baby, you look so perfect like this,” He panted, his breaths ragged.

He moved his hands to your wrists swiftly. He tugged them repeatedly, bringing you onto him with sloppy-sounding smacks. You could feel your eyes beginning to roll back. The fire in your stomach started to grow, letting you know that you wouldn’t be able to go on much longer.

“Mm, I’m gonna come,” You whined and mumbled, barely coherent.

Eddie’s grip on your wrists was tight, using them to pull you up against him with each motion. His breaths were heavy and labored as he bit at your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe.

“Not yet, princess. Not until I say so.” He demanded, speaking through gritted teeth.

Eddie used your hip to move your body, rolling you onto your back and hastily finding himself between your soft thighs once more. This only delayed your need for release by a few seconds before he plunged back into you. He got lost in the sight of you beneath him and the way you writhed. Your chest spilled out of your lacy pushup bra as he continued pumping away at you.

“Eddie, I need it, please,” You whimpered, your words getting cut off every two seconds by his hellish movements.

Eddie was fully lost in you, watching the way your body moved and the way your breathless pleas of his name sounded as they fell out of your mouth, barely coherent.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

He reached down, his hand gently wrapping around your throat once more, keeping you close. He pulled you upwards, bringing you close enough to where he could press his forehead to yours. Your brows furrowed and your eyes widened as you looked into his. An intense expression took over your face as you tried to resist coming undone.

“Please,” You squeaked again, trying to say anything with your pinched throat.

Eddie watched as your expression switched from pleasure to almost desperation, your voice becoming more high-pitched and pleading as you repeated yourself. He couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face.

“Do you really need it that bad, huh?” He panted out, the smirk growing slightly wider.

He held you there for a few seconds, watching you struggle before he finally spoke again, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Alright, princess. Go ahead.”

Eddie held onto the crooks of your knees, forcing your legs up a bit. He growled as he hovered over you, sinking himself hungrily into you. The angle allowed him to pound you with ease, every stroke causing your legs to spasm and bounce on his shoulders.

You gave a short, sharp yell as he brought you to your climax, followed by passionate moans as you came down. Shaky breaths could be heard from Eddie who felt himself close to coming shortly after you. Eddie folded your body tight, your legs in the air, your knees threatening to be beside your head.

His neck broke out bright red, his mouth hung open with amusement at the sight before him. His groans almost sounded violent as he approached his orgasm. He pulled himself out and released onto you, covering you in his seed. He looked rather pleased with the sight of you contorted and covered in him. He chuckled to himself as he let you down to relax finally.

He took a moment to admire the sight of you, sprawled out on the bed, your chest rising and falling heavily as you slowly came back to reality. His eyes roamed over you hungrily, taking in the way his release spilled out onto your skin. He chuckled as he watched you, a satisfied but exhausted smile on his lips.

“How was it, gorgeous?” He panted out. He gently ran a hand down your leg.

“You were incredible,” You mused with heavy breaths.

You felt as if your entire soul trembled as you peeled yourself off the bed. You walked slowly to the bathroom to clean off, your hands combing through your now ruined waves.

“If you want another round, give me about ten minutes, sexy,” Eddie playfully called out to you as he leaned back on the headboard with a satisfied grin.

[jellyfishoreo1206]

You can ignore this if you want but!! I have an idea for a request: Gavril and mc trying to make homemade cheese together. Whether Mc already knows how to make cheese or not can be up to you!

Making Cheese with Gavril

Notes: I'M BACK, I SWEAR GUYS I AM NOT DEAD. Seriously I'm so sorry for leaving y'all w/o anything, my motivation to write anything had disappeared and finals bombarding me SUCKKKED. BUT I'M FINALLY FREE, RAHHHHHHH!!!! Anyway I was reminded of this one ask Part got last year with a cheese maker reader/food taster (I couldn't find it but it's somewhere on their dash, so credit to the person who asked the ask!) and I thought why not use that? Enjoy reading! (He may be OOC guys, it's been a while since I last wrote T~T)

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol in here (idk if Gavril drinks alcohol but considering the crap he goes through, that boy needs a DRINK)

----

Working as a cheese maker is a lot of work, as simple as it may seem to others outside of the profession. Physically demanding your attention each and every day. But that was part of the job either way. Doesn't mean it can't be fun, especially if you're a fanatic of cheese.

Tomorrow was your day off, your muscles finally being able to relax from the constant lifting, stirring, and pressing that they had to endure. You had a pretty good idea of what to do when you came back from work, and that was to relax until the early hours of the morning.

It was getting dark; the sun setting as it casted its long shadows onto the ground below. You felt yourself sinking into the couch cushion, the nerves of your limbs becoming fuzzy as your mind went numb watching the screen of the TV, some random show you couldn't bother to pay attention too for the last couple of hours.

A ping from your phone pulls your attention away from the show you were mindlessly watching, slowly pushing yourself up from the couch— wincing a bit as your limbs were finally moving again after so long—as you reached for it. You had a pretty good guess of who it was, as he was the only one who texted you on a daily basis.

Open your window please <3

"Didn't know my day could get any better." Smiling, you sent him a message back, standing up from the couch as you stretched your arms high above your head; a few of your joints popping in the process, letting out a sigh of satisfaction.

Which one?

Bedroom window

Omw

It scared the crap out of you when he first appeared at your window with little to no warning, but with how things usually played out in your life, you got used to it eventually.

A smile graced your face when you saw him perched by your window with an eager look on his face, his goopy tail seemingly wagging at the sight of you once you approached closer to the window.

Thank god he actually came when it was dark this time, you don't need another situation happening with your neighbor freaking out to the police.

"Hey." You offered quietly in greeting, wrapping your arms around his neck as you nuzzled into his skin—enjoying the warmth he seemed to radiate. He copied your actions, wrapping his arms around your waist—his grip gentle yet tight as he pulled you to himself.

"Hello, darling." He mumbles into your hair, placing a kiss atop your head.

"Didn't know you were coming back so soon?"

"Wanted to surprise you."

"Well, color me surprised."

~~~

"So," Your back was turned to Gavril as you poured the two of you drinks, "-anything new happened on your crazy adventure?"

At this point it was routine for the both of you. Gavril comes back, you make sure he isn't injured, catch up with each other's lives. Most of the time Gavril's stories seem to be a tad bit more interesting than yours, and concerning at the same time.

Very concerning.

"Not much," He starts, "-but I did get chased by some agents a few weeks back.." A awkward smile appears on his face as he shrugged his shoulders. His coat was currently laid across his lap, his fingers fiddling with the frayed edges while he looks around the room. Walking over to him, you offered him the glass as you sat down in the chair next to him, he gladly took it—taking a small sip of it before placing it down onto the table. You took a sip of your own drink, the liquid giving your throat a slight burn that soon settled into a slight tingle.

It's been a while since you last had a drink, not crazy long ago though, watching as the liquid swirls in the glass before bringing it back up to your lips again—embracing the burning yet warming feeling of the liquid.

"Did that same redhead appear again?" Gavril mentioned him once or twice before to you, you're not sure what the name of the guy is, all you know is that he constantly reappears and how cowardly he can be.

"No, only his buddy showed up this time. Wasn't like anything changed though." The corners of his lips hint at a smile, bringing a hand up to the one prominent curl of his hair as he plays with it for a bit, twirling it around his finger. "I wonder how he even got that far in without quitting." You murmured out. From what you've heard, FBI training is no joke, and very intense. Both physically and mentally. Those who can't handle the challenge usually quit early on; and if they do pass, then there's the insane amount of cases that would affect nearly anyone. So for the redhead to get that far still puzzles you.

"I wonder the same too."

You continued to talk for what seemed like hours, pouring yourselves a few more drinks as the day slowly faded away into the early hours of the morning. Your muscles felt relaxed, more at ease; a comforting haze overtaking your brain as you let today's worries slip away. It doesn't seem Gavril is feeling the effects of the drink other than the nearly invisble tint of red on his cheeks and his relaxed posture instead of the regular stiffness.

Drinking the last bit of the liquid left in your cup, you stand up from your chair as you head towards the fridge, looking back towards Gavril to offer him something to eat, "You hungry?"

He hums out in confirmation, head now resting on top of his folded arms, eyes closed. Peering into the fridge, you clicked your tongue; no cheese. Searching every corner of the fridge, nope, nada. What a pickle you were in.

You could just go to the convince store that's not far from here, 10 minutes by foot. But is it opened? Checking the time on your phone, no, they closed just a few minutes ago. Are you sure your eyes didn't just missed the cheese?

Second time looking, again, nothing.

While searching the fridge for a third time, a thought pops up.

'Well...there's milk, and a few lemons...' Looking in the cabinet next to the fridge, yup, salt and some leftover animal rennet.

Ah, a quick and easy solution to your small problem.

Quickly getting to work, you grabbed two small bowls, pouring water into both of them. Rinsing and cutting the lemon, you squeezed some of the juice into one of the bowls, mixing it and setting it aside. For the second bowl, you added some animal rennet into the water, mixed it and set it aside with the other. Once placing the pot on top the stove, you felt the embrace of two arms wrapping around your midsection with the added weight of something on your shoulder. Peeking behind you to see Gavril, with a curious look in his eyes.

"Something wrong?"

"What..exactly are you doing?"

"Ran out of cheese, so I'm making some." You respond cheerily, a tired smile spreading on your face. Turning back to the task at hand, you missed the way that red tint on his face seemed to have become darker, hugging you closer to himself as he watches your hands at work.

Despite you guys dating for several months, he still gets shy about acts of affection. Kisses, praises, gifts, being pampered; It just gives him that fluttery feeling that cascades through him. It's not that he hates it, no far from that, it's just that he doesn't know what to do. Being isolated from everyone—for who knows how long—and his only company as rats made him rather awkward. You don't mind it though—it's adorable to you whenever he hides his face in the shadow of his hood when you give him a kiss on the cheek—you want him to be comfortable around you, so usually give him ways out or just let him control the pace.

"Can I help?"

"Of course! Just, wash your hands first."

---

"So I just, pour it in?" There was a hint of hesitation in his voice, looking back and forth at the bowl with the animal rennet mixture and the pot of milk that was just taken off the heat. You had your phone playing some music— since you felt that the atmosphere was a bit too quiet—with one of Gavril's favorite rock bands playing as you guided him through the steps of making cheese.

"Yup, then just stir it in gently."

You watched as Gavril does as he was told, although a bit hesitantly once he began stirring. Walking over to him, you laid your hands atop his hands on the spoon, showing him the proper way to stir the cheese-to-be mixture. The contact brought a blush to his cheeks, a small smile forming on his face.

"Now that's done," Putting a lid on the pot, "-we wait for 10 minutes."

---

"You're gonna want to cut it in a grid-like pattern, like this!" Using a long knife, you cut two lines into the semi-solid mixture before handing the knife over to Gav.

"Oh, seems easy enough." He muttered to himself, changing the way he held the knife before holding it properly in his grip.

"Make sure to reach the bottom when cutting, cause right after this step is done, we're straining the liquid from the solids."

---

"I'll handle this part. I'll need to dunk the cheese in some hot water in order to stretch it properly." After straining out the cheese from the whey, you now needed to stretch it until it reached the right firmness. Gavril nods, as he lingers, a excited smile appearing on his face, his fangs peaking out.

Dunking the cheese into the water, you begin stretching. This part you somewhat don't like, it's not that the water is boiling hot, it just makes your skin irritated if it's submerged for long periods of time. Though it is a good way to release stress, it's like slime in a way. Edible slime, huh.

---

After adding the salt, you finally finished, good old Mozzarella cheese. Rolling it into small balls and storing it in some of the whey, you sit down as Gavril pops a ball of cheese into his mouth, a big smile appearing on his face.

A smile comes across your face as well, glad he's enjoying it. It's nice spending time with him, in moments like these. You kinda forget the fact that several month ago that he broke into your house and scared the living shit out of you when you realized you almost got killed.

...Does that count as Stockholm Syndrome??

Before you could think any further, a light poke to your arm brings you out of it. Looking towards Gavril, you see that he's offering you some cheese, a bashful smile on his face as a tint of red makes itself known. Aw, that's sweet of him.

"You can have some.."

"Thanks Gav." Popping the piece of cheese into your mouth, you savor the moment. Cheese tastes so much better when you're making it with those you care about.

What a great way to spend your day-off.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Snake Eyes 1

Warnings: noncon coercion, manipulation. Proceed with caution.

Note: thanks all for reading and I hope you're excited for this one. All feedback is more than welcome and loved and appreciated. Reblogs are most helpful.

Part of The Club AU

The smell of citrus wafts in the air as you slice into a bright green lime. The juice dribbles on your gloves as you bring the knife down over and over through the bumpy skin. You gather it all up in your hands and put it in the metal container.

You peel off the plastic gloves and dump them in the bin, moving the tray to its place in the bar and putting the lid atop it. You continue your prep work, checking the olives and refilling the toothpick dispenser. Thor stands nearby, neatly lining the shelves with the shining clean glasses wheeled in from the kitchen.

Your first week is coming to an end. You’re finally in the routine of it. You find the pre-opening lull to be the most enjoyable time. The servers, the cooks, and bouncers drift in and hang around chatting as they get ready for doors to open.

You go to the other end of the bar to grab a jar of marischino cherry and pause. You can hear voices from the backroom. You try not to eavesdrop but it sounds rather heated. You can’t really discern the syllables but the muffled slam makes you flinch.

“Ah yes, my brother is having his weekly tantrum,” Thor muses as he spins and shoves a few pitchers onto the shelves beneath the bar. “Don’t mind him, he always is finding something to despise.”

You smile at Thor awkwardly. You only met his brother once. The very man who hired you after a brief interview. One which went by so quick, you’re certain he doesn’t even remember hiring you.

“He does take this all rather serious,” Thor chuckles as he straightens his collar, the points wide as his muscled chest peeks out. “Always a bit high strung. You wouldn’t believe he once worked where you do now. He bought out the owner and here we are.”

“Oh, yeah, somehow I can’t picture that,” you murmur.

Thor laughs again, a rumble like thunder, and grabs the empty cart. He wheels it towards the kitchen door as you walk listlessly behind the bar, checking that every tap is clean, every hose is in its place. Hinges whine and a door swings open loudly.

“Fuck you!” Danica bellows as she charges out of the backroom, “fucking asshole!”

You stop and watch her dumbly. Her long legs shine with bronzer as she stomps across the room, her beautiful features contortein anger. She’s one of the several or so bottle girls that serve the private rooms and wears the usual get up; tight black shorts and sparkly croptop. You wonder what’s got her so worked up.

“I fucking quit,” she hollers before she disappears down the stairs.

You watch behind her, stunned. Wow. You weren’t expecting that at all.

“Can’t quit if you’ve already been fired, darling,” Loki’s voice carries after her, tugging your attention back to the doorway. “Gods, these girls.”

You quickly put your head down and pretend to be busy. You check the limes, even as you’ve just put them away. He strides to the other side of the bar and sighs, his shadow watching you until you raise your eyes.

“Hello, sir,” you say, “can I get you something?”

“Martini,” he demands curtly, “dry.”

You nod and quickly go about making his drink. You present it to him in the stemmed glass with the olive and pickled onion skewered on top. He turns it slowly and admires your handiwork. His eyes crawl up and meet yours.

“Come,” he gestures you out from behind the bar, “right here.”

He steps back and sips from the glass.

“Sir?”

“Don’t make me tell you twice or you can follow the other one out.”

You wipe your hands on a towel and lay it on the lower ledge of the bar. You come around as he shifts to face you, keeping his lips on the brim of the martini. He sets it aside as you approach and gives you an appraising look.

“Hmm,” he steps around the stool and grabs your shirt. You cry out as he tucks it under, raising it up your stomach.

“What are you doing–”

“Hush,” he quiets you and grabs the top of your shirt, splitting it for a generous view of your cleavage. You’re too surprised to resist as he reaches around you and undoes the apron, dragging it away from your waist, “very well, you’ll do.”

“What?”

“I’m short a bottle girl, I’m certain you can handle pouring,” he tosses the apron over the bar. “Tips are better, anyhow.”

“But, I need–” You point over the bar.

“Consider it a promotion,” he interjects as he checks his watch, “I’ve some very special guests arriving in the Cobra Lounge soon.”

“Sir, I–”

“Figure it out,” he flicks away your protest, “or you might consider updating your CV.”

[pejite]

Since that day, Josephine fell into a routine of spending her entire day with the Langleys. Each morning, she embarked on a solitary journey from her modest home to the Langley farm, while her mother set off to catch the morning train.

As twilight descended, and Mary Elizabeth concluded her day's toil, she would venture into the village to collect her daughter. Though Wilhelmina suggested to Mary Elizabeth the idea of letting Josephine stay overnight at the farm, providing her with a much-needed break, Mary Elizabeth adamantly refused. She treasured every precious moment she could snatch with her beloved daughter amidst her demanding schedule.

Mary Elizabeth had made it abundantly clear to Josephine that her assistance was expected in helping Wilhelmina with household chores and any other tasks that needed attention, given that they were not charging anything in return for her care. Consequently, during the initial days, Josephine shadowed Wilhelmina closely, seeking guidance on how best to contribute.

Although initially entrusted with the simple task of supervising the younger children in the household, Josephine's persistent inquiries prompted Wilhelmina to assign her additional responsibilities. These included managing the laundry, tidying up after Rosemary and Winifred, and lending a hand in the kitchen whenever necessary.

So, Josephine kept herself entertained. That afternoon, after feeding Rosemary and the twins, she headed to the back of the house to collect the laundry that had already dried and to wash the dirty clothes that had accumulated in the basket in the kitchen. She thought that since Rosemary and Winifred had just eaten, they would fall asleep, just as Robert had done; as soon as he finished eating, he had gone to the sofa to sleep.

However, those girls were like whirlwinds and stayed close to her, causing a commotion. Josephine wasn't overly bothered by it; after all, they were very young, and their noise level didn't affect how clean the laundry turned out. But Thomas, who was behind her watering the lettuce sprouts that were beginning to emerge, gently scolded them.

"Stop bothering or I'll tell Mum you're misbehaving" he threatened, using his usual calm tone. The girls protested, and when Thomas jokingly pointed the watering can at them, they ran off.

Although Thomas remained unaware, Josephine couldn't help but chuckle at the scene. And while the little girls weren't quite troublesome enough to send packing, she timidly thanked Thomas for his intervention, secretly relishing the subsequent calm.

"Let me know if they start getting too much, and I'll give Mum a heads up" He offered, setting the watering can down. Josephine nodded in acknowledgment as she watched him stride across the fence dividing their small corner of the farm from the rest, disappearing into the warmth of the Langley household.

Later that same day, as the sun gradually began its descent, Josephine had already returned home, and Wilhelmina had settled the children into bed after a modest dinner. It was only then that Edwin, weary from another taxing day's labor on the Abernathy farm, finally arrived home.

At the sight of him entering the door, Wilhelmina sensed the weight of his weariness and frustration. She approached him with a warm embrace, planting a tender kiss on his cheek before inquiring about his day at work. Edwin's response was a heavy sigh, indicating his reluctance to discuss the matter. However, Wilhelmina, with her innate understanding of her husband, gently coaxed out his concerns.

"It's just… I hardly get a moment with the children anymore" Edwin confessed, his hands, stained with the soil of his labor, seeking solace in Wilhelmina's touch. "By the time I return, they're fast asleep. And I long to spend more time with them. With you."

Touched by his sincerity, Wilhelmina offered words of reassurance, her fingers tracing comforting patterns on his cheek, brushing away traces of dirt with gentle strokes. "Oh, my dear..." she murmured softly, her voice a soothing balm to his weary soul. "You're doing everything you can. Thanks to your hard work, we have food on the table and a roof over our heads. Don't burden yourself with guilt. Come, let me draw you a bath. It's ready and waiting for you."

Wilhelmina's heart ached for her husband, knowing all too well the sacrifices he made to provide for their family. Yet, even in the face of adversity, she remained a steadfast source of comfort and support, offering him solace amidst life's challenges.

While Wilhelmina assisted Edwin in cleaning up, she began to update him on the happenings at home, detailing Thomas's efforts on the farm and the significant help having Josephine nearby provided. As she spoke, Edwin, his hands still damp, reached out towards her and started unbuttoning her shirt.

Initially, Wilhelmina gently pushed his hand away, reminding him not to soak her clothes and suggesting they finish undressing once they were upstairs in the bedroom. However, she couldn't help but feel tempted by the sight before her. Edwin playfully splashed water, drenching Wilhelmina's clothes completely, prompting her to finally decide to undress and join him in the bath.

The day concluded with them revisiting the conversation Wilhelmina had initiated during their bath. They lay side by side in bed, discussing their children, the house, how much Thomas had grown, and how the younger ones were following in his footsteps.

[mermmarie]

The Red String of Fate: Ch. 2

Pair: Donatello x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Rating: T?? (Characters depicted are adults)

Content/Trigger Warnings: N/A

Authors Notes: Chapter 2 of my Red String of Fate fanfic. I'm about 75% through chapter 3 and hopefully I'll be able to finish it within the next couple of days. If you missed chapter 1 you can read it here. Hope you enjoy!

||Chapter 1|| ||Chapter 2|| ||Chapter 3|| ||Chapter 4||

—————————————————–

CHAPTER 2: SEEKING RED

What you thought had only been a couple of minutes of staring at the small red string actually had been thirty minutes, and thirty minutes had quickly turned into an hour. Generally, you chose to spend your hours of the night in a different manner, but this particular ordeal had demanded your attention. Your mind was a hive of thoughts. Unable to be quieted as many questions buzzed inside your head. All questions about your cosmic soulmate. 

What did they do for a living? Did you two share the same interest? Had they always been in New York, or had they moved from somewhere else? Were they handsome or beautiful by conventional standards? Where were they right now?...

You supposed most of the questions didn’t really matter. After all, the universe was telling you that you were destined to be together regardless of your personal preferences and opinions. And, who were you to tell the universe it was wrong? It had blessed you with life. Sure, sometimes it could be a pain, but there were thousands of people born every day, yet it bestowed the gift of true love upon you. You were grateful, no matter who your soulmate ended up being. 

Or so you had planned to be until you noticed the crimson thread laced around your finger had begun to fade and disappear all within seconds. The excited tingle that had been fluttering in your chest since discovering the little red string quickly turned into frantic fear when it vanished from your hand. You shot up from your seated position in your recliner and stuck out your arm in front of you. Hoping that perhaps it was just a trick of lighting that had made it disappear, but when the colored strip did not reappear around your ring finger, despair flooded your heart.

“No… No! No!! ” You shook out your hand, foolishly believing the movement would bring it back. It had just been there a minute ago, why was it gone all the sudden?! What could it possibly mean that it just up and vanished? Was there some kind of time crunch you didn’t know about when it came to the fated string? Had you missed your chance of meeting your soulmate because instead of going out and looking for them, you had chosen to stay inside and ogle at the apparition on your finger like an idiot!

Or…

Your blood ran cold at the dark thought and you had to physically shake it from your mind. You were overreacting… At least you hoped you were– No! You were! Everything was okay!! So what the string had suddenly disappeared? Maybe it had never actually existed in the first place! You had already admitted to yourself that you hadn’t believed in the fairytale anyway!...  But then– why did you imagine it to be real? 

Suddenly, a fierce wave of exhaustion crashed over your mental. Whether the existence of the string was real or not, this was a lot of excitement for one night. You had stayed up later than usual; perhaps your sense of sight was in need of some rest and the magical thread would return in the morning. Although, the theory didn’t stop you from brushing the tip of your fingers over the spot where the red string used to be in one last attempt to make it reappear. 

It didn’t of course…

Defeat pulled your features downwards. A frown etching into your face and your shoulders slumping tiredly as you shuffled to your room. You didn’t care to do any of your nighttime routines before sleep. All you wanted to do at this point was close your eyes and shut off your mind of any more exhausting thoughts. You figured it might be difficult to achieve due to the anxiety inducing factors of tonight, but shortly after laying your head down on your pillow, your conscious began to drift away. 

—————————————————–

During their march back to the lair, Donatello unstrapped the ipad from his left arm, and began pulling up every Wikipedia entry, news article, and blog post he could find on the Red String of Fate. Being the brainiac he was, he wanted to know everything there possibly was to know about the phenomenon, regardless of how credible the sources were. And any bit of information would be helpful when it came to his dilemma with the matter…

As he swiped his left pointer finger up the glass screen his attention was caught by the flicker of red on his smaller finger. Curious, he diverted his gaze to the apparition, his eyes growing larger behind his frames as he watched the crimson string vanish from his digit. His lips parted at the sight, and when it completely disappeared, he stopped in his tracks. Moving the ipad into his right hand, he brought his left closer to his face for inspection. His heart pounded against his plated chest as he twist and turned his palm but was unable to find the red thread. 

Why had it suddenly vanished? 

There had to be a reason for it, even if the whole idea of destiny bound twine had seemed impossible up until earlier on in the night. It wouldn’t just disappear without an explanation… At least, he hoped it wouldn’t.

Before panic could trickle into his mind, he brought his ipad back into view and started a new search on ‘Red String of Fate disappearing.’ To his satisfaction and slight frustration, thousands of results came up, but thankfully, his reading speed was far beyond average. Within a few minutes he would be able to surmise a theory as to why the thread had suddenly ceased to exist. His eyes zipped back and forth across the glass screen all the while he repetitively flicked his right pointer up the device. 

Abruptly, he pressed down on the tablet with the tip of his finger to stop the article he was currently examining from scrolling when he noticed something of interest. His eyes narrowed on the screen and he mouthed the words silently as he read over the text, only to be jolted out of his concentration when his blue-coded brother called out to him once more. 

“Donnie! You all good?” Leonardo questioned from the other end of the sewer tunnel they had been traversing. 

Donatello grumbled quietly before responding. “Ye-Yeah! I just– You go ahead without me, I’ll be with you shortly.” He nodded his head for added reassurance. 

Leonardo stared in response, but eventually shrugged his shoulders and turned away. Donatello released a soft sigh from his nostrils, relieved that his brother didn’t seem to notice the missing apparition from his finger. That or he didn’t care to bring it up, which he was equally grateful for. It was nerve-wrecking enough that it appeared in the first place. He didn’t need another being freaking out as to why it suddenly disappeared. Although, he might’ve just found the answer…

Directing his attention back to his tablet, he continued reading. 

[While the urban legend of the Red String of Fate has been around for centuries it’s a wonder there hasn’t been any hard recordings of the occurrence. There have been many theories as to why that may be, such as; only those afflicted by the magical thread are able to see it–]

Welp, by the way his brother had reacted to the sight of his left finger earlier on in the night, that wasn’t the case. 

[Or, perhaps the phenomenon worked similarly to other mystical happenstances and could not be physically documented--]

Donatello’s eyes rolled up in thought. He supposed that could be true, as he hadn’t tried taking a picture of the string when it was originally on his finger, but that didn’t explain why it suddenly vanished. His eyes dropped back down and he carried on. 

[Or, it could simply boil down to a missed connection--]

The top of his mask rose behind his glasses as his brows arched with interest. 

[Mythology Specialist, Yue Lao, theorizes that the reason why there hasn’t been any present-day findings of the Red String of Fate is because today’s society is always on the move. Whether that be commuting to work, making a trip to the grocery store, traveling to see your family, or taking a vacation away from home, there may be the possibility that you just missed making a connection with your soulmate. Yue Lao suspects that there is a maximum distance between those fated where the string will present itself–]

Slowly, the tablet dropped from out of his view, and down to his waist. He turned slightly, and looked back over his shoulder and down the tunnel where he once was. It couldn’t possibly be that simple, could it?... Only one way to find out.

He turned his body completely to face the opposing end of the tunnel away from his home and cautiously took a step forward. Bringing up his left hand to look at his finger, a brow twitched when the red string did not reappear. A twinge of disappointment struck his heart, but he fought back the urge to frown. After all, he had only taken a single step. As a scientist, he knew all too well that the first experiment never produced the desired results. 

This time, he took two steps, followed by two more when the crimson thread still did not show. A frustrated huff escaping him. Where he was standing now should’ve been the location where the apparition had begun to disappear. If there was any truth to Yue Lao’s theory, then his current position should’ve been within the maximum range of their cosmic bond….. Unless… His soulmates position had moved as well. 

Without wasting another second, he moved. 

The grimy water of the sewers splashed underneath the hurried steps of his boots. Being as tall as he was, he easily traveled a considerable amount of distance in only a few steps but that didn’t convince him to slow his pace. He extended his left arm in front of him as he walked and locked his eyes on his smallest digit. If he had been anywhere else, he might’ve been concerned that he would run into a wall but this was his home. He was so confident in his knowledge of the ins-and-outs of the sewers, that he didn’t even care to slow down when he came to an unilluminated section of the underground tunnels. 

But within seconds of entering the darkened area, the lack of light was illuminated with red. 

Immediately, Donatello came to a stop. Slapping his right hand to his left wrist, as if he needed the support to keep it up and in his view. He drew in a sharp breath, and the sound was amplified in the enclosed space, but he didn’t care. All that had mattered was that the little red string had reappeared on his finger, the tail end of the thread trailing off in the distance just like before. Relief made his chest swell and he could tell he was smiling by the way the bottom of his glasses met his cheeks. 

As much as he wanted to relish the moment, the logical part of his brain urged him to test the magical threads’ validity, and he couldn’t deny the concerning thought. Hesitantly, he took two steps backwards and his eyebrows bent as he watched the crimson color vanish from his finger once more, so he quickly retracted those steps. A soft sigh flittered from his lips when red reemerged through the darkness. If he was being honest, the color used to have a negative connotation for him personally. Red was the color of blood, the color his most temperamental brother dawned, and he feared the idea of losing himself to only be able to see the stark color.  But right now?... It was lovely.

Yue Lao’s theory was right, there was a maximum distance in which the myth would present itself which made sense– especially in his case since he spent most of his time underneath New York City. Knowing this, a strange mixture of peace and determination flooded into his being, washing away the reservations he had earlier on in the night. If the sun wasn’t going to be up in a couple of hours, he’d go back to the surface right now, but that was alright. He understood how this worked now. 

Tomorrow night he was going to find out who his soulmate was. 

—————————————————–

End notes: Tagging @eveandtheturtles because they requested it. (: If anyone else would like to be tagged on upcoming chapters, please let me know! I'm happy to oblige! 💖

[siremasterlawrence]

The Handler’s Red Carpet Express 3 & 4

The success of my launch party with BAFTA aid is week known so my appearance at the lots of many Hollywood executives soon lead to submissions galore.

Part 1 - 2

Tyler Hoechlin is magnetic walking across the red carpet tonight something has gotten into him that my spirit driving him ever on forward.

He smiles so bright the light glistening on his teeth he blows me the camera a kiss he is waving his hand and demanding so much attention.

No one has ever seen him so happy with the camera men before taking one position like pose one way other than that and the crowd is so exciting.

The lights of the camera crew flashes going on blinding him in a fleeing sea of lights on and off clicking away the sound messing with his head.

Everything begin to slow down to a cruel a heavy weight off his body is unleash in a shocking wave hitting him head on in a life of fire.

Another hot, sexy and beautiful steadily sturdy stud man stops next to him with love, light, power and passion consuming him in a white glow.

He spun a bit feeling the man’s arms on his shoulders letting it spread over the man’s entire width groping it he yanks him closer to his body.

The flashing conquers both wiping away all fears, worries and desires because all they can do is wait for further commands to be given.

The other man is former Titans star known as Brenton Thwaites is in the mood as well as I notice a cock sprang forward in his suit pants.

The active flesh overacting into a myriad of cum explosion his facial expression are trying to hide as his brain cell die out on live tv.

My reporter walks straight forward toward them as the crowd is pumped for this super star studded event and Tyler follows suit ok cumming.

The man guides them to side by the red and gold blinds shoving them in playfully as they join the ranks of my loyal Hollywood pets or slaves which ever you prefer.

Inside there is a long set of stairs to the base of the bottom floor they both descend down the swirling staircase. Meanwhile two Men appearColton Haynes is at the welcoming desk he is getting a champagne glass as he takes a sip he can see silhouette in the shade of yeh red and gold blinds.

Australia star Brenton Thwaites walks on to the scene and soon the world stops making sense of anything and everything in utter life’s existence.

“Hey Colton over here buddy…what’s up?” Brenton yells at him.

“Hey Brenton! Waiting for the festivities?” Colton asks.

“Hell Yeah!” He says prepped for a high five.

“So do you even know what this is about?”

“To be honest no clue”

“Me Either! I am not sure why but…”

“You felt compacted to come”

“Exactly “

“Same here”

“Things are shaking up “

“You noticed then”

“I kind of like it actually I am embracing it”

“You are embracing your darkness”

“Oh God! Why am so hot?l

“Me too…I feel wet”

“Fuck”

“Ffffuuuuccccckkkk”

“Gentlemen! Excuse me ! Follow me please “

Part 3 - 4

The time for fun has come and gone so the real party begins when Tom Ellis gets hit with a spotlight encroaching on him ever so closer.

Stephen Amell is standing right next to him in surprise they both stare at the crowd in a cool style give a shrug with their shoulders in disbelief

“Oh How Cute? Two best pals”

“Who is this?”

“Is this a prank”

“Trick Or Treat”

“Neither! Fuck Off”

“Mwahahahahaha “

“Sinister laugh you got their pal”

“I’m aware it’s just for you “

“My two good fellows…do me a favor and”

“I said to fuck ….”

“SLEEP”

“Ooooohhhh Mmmyyyy Goooodddd”

“The audience gasps”

“Perform routine debauchery”

“Yes Master!”

They start to smile hands on each other in a warm embrace, a jaw dropping kiss, clothes disrobing in to the air, and most importantly a whip transports in to Tom’s hand and he whips his pals ass till it is red.

“Thank you and goodnight everyone “

“Say goodnight guys “

“Goodnight friends “

“Take A Bow”

They take a bow disappearing into the night in a flash of smoke slowly filling the room to the top and memory of this event is erased throughout the world.

“Enjoy your stay Mr. Evans” the hotel bell hop says to an exhausted Chris.

He fell a sleep unknowingly ceiling his faith at the Circus Hotel chain with a bright smile to his face his expression is silly after the night he had.

A strange looking clown pops out undoing his pants slowly stripping him and the lifting him into his arms and pressing the elevator to the basement.

“Master Lawrence, Chris is E is fast a sleep for you.”

“Place him in the elevator shaft “

“Press basement, clear the room of any and all evidence.”

“Yes Master”

“We are leaving now”

“Too perfect “

The elevator door descending to the cellar of the basement takes its time lights up in all manner of collar stirring Chris awake as he rubs his eyes.

Chris comes to laying on the floor he sat up placing his back to the wall his laborious breathing lessons and he returns to a sight for me.

He starts to widen his mouth into a smile and he cracks up hilariously for the world to see in this video he stands up bouncing wall to wall.

“Hahahahahahaha…the fuck…what is so…”

“Soooooohhhhhaaaa….i am going insane”

“Nah! It’s normal “ a voice comes from the speaker”

“The elevator is talking…hahahaha”

“Funny”

“It’s right this natural and right “

“Chris Hemsworth”

“Wawwhhhaaaattt” he answers in slumber as his body rises.

“Stand by the wall”

“Yes”

The wall at the touch of his back spins him to the opposite side of the wall into the shaft to join his friend.

“Barrel of laughs you two”

“Why are we laughing”

“I don’t know “

“It feels good though”

“Give in”

“Let’s go mad together “

“We can’t stop it”

“We can’t help it”

“Aaaahhhh…ooooohhhhh….aaahhhhh…babe….mmmmnnnnn….ffffuuucccckkkk….yyyyyyyyyeeeeaaaaahhhhhhh.”

The end

[itstheoneshot]

Kinktober Day 26

Mind Control - Zitao

!dom Zitao

“Focus on me.”

You do as you are told, meeting his piercing gaze with your own blurry and unfocused one. You have been over this so many times before, but it always feels different, surreal, frightening, yet like nothing at all.

“What do you see?” He asks, “Tell me.”

“You.”

“What is my name?” He asks further, “Tell me.”

“Huang Zitao.”

Zitao smiles at you and that is all that is needed to send you over the edge, to break you, everything around him disappears and it is as if nothing has ever or will ever exist except for him. Your mind is blank, only seeing and feeling and being with him, you are in the state that he has mastered putting you in.

“Good job, baobao,” He praises you, “Now, you’ll do as I say, won’t you?”

“Yes, Zitao.”

It had started out gentle, as it always did. Kissing in his home-studio, straddling him in his desk chair when you got bored of waiting for him to finish mixing his newest song. You weren’t really wearing much to begin with, but Zitao had you fully naked before starting his routine.

Hypnotic, in both his words and actions, and you succumb so easy. Forgetting who you are, forgetting where you are, and only remembering who he is, and what you are to him.

“Oh, fuck,” Zitao moans, “Deep breaths, doll, come on, relax.”

He lowers you down onto his cock, after lifting you up to put you in the right position. Everything is hazy, but it feels fucking incredible. In this state, with nothing else on your mind, you feel every inch, every vein, the blood pulsing through his thick, hard cock as he fills you to the brim, until you can’t take anymore. He doesn’t slow, hands on your ass he lifts you up to lower you again, this time a little faster, a little harsher, pathetic whimpers fall from your lips, the only word you know, Zitao.

You obey again, because of course you do, that is your purpose, that is all that you know when he has control over you like this. With not a care in the world, nor a thought, only that of the way that his cock feels inside you, filling you perfectly. Pleasure overwhelms you in a way that is indescribable, words don’t do it justice, only the slight curvature of his cock, and the harshness of his movements, the way that he fucks you like a doll, is that why he always calls you that? drives you crazy, although you don’t quite have the capacity to process that now.

With his hands under your ass to hold you, Zitao stands, and if you were any less… mind-controlled, you would have shrieked, but instead, you are calm and collected as he walks you away from the studio, stopping momentarily to thrust into you against the wall, your arms draped over his shoulders, hands clasped behind his neck all that is keeping you upright, that and your trust in him to stop you from falling.

“I said,” He growls, “Focus.”

How he could tell that your thoughts were wavering, you will never be able to figure out, but his demand brings you back, meeting his piercing gaze once more throws you right back into the midst of it, again forgetting, and remembering too. He is less gentle now, turning away from the wall, he continues to guide you up and down his length as he carries you to your bedroom, laying you flat on the mattress once there, only able to see him as he hovers over you, cock still 9 inches deep inside of you, as far as it can go.

You relax more like this, although it is intimidating, you have fully submitted and you no longer fear waking up from your state, again only here for his pleasure, though you definitely get yours too. With each thrust, Zitao moves back just enough for you to see your reflection in the mirror he has hung up on the ceiling above your bed. You, or you at least assume that is you, look blissed out, euphoric, wow, do you really look like that? but Zitao draws your attention again with a particularly hard thrust, and his hand holding your face still so that despite any involuntary movements, you cannot look away.

“Who owns you?” He asks, again with the inducing, “Tell me.”

“You do,” You reply in monotone, these words you know, these words come easily, robotic, as if they are the only words that you know, “Zitao. Huang Zitao.”

He loves that, loves the reminder, the achievement, the approval and significance of his kink, his skill in action. You feel him speed up, chasing his release, and you are sure that yours is close too, because Zitao would never let himself get there without your own, he couldn’t live with himself if he did that, oh fuck, okay, you are close, your thighs are shaking, you want to move, eyes threatening to roll back but you cannot look away.

You feel, once again, as if the world around you disappears. Everything is white, except for the man on top of you, and you don’t feel a thing, except for his weight, and his cock, as it pushes you over the edge. You cum with breathless cries of his name, of your ownership by him, of your subservience to him, of his control of you, of the way that your whole world revolves around him and him only.

It is euphoric, overwhelming and overstimulating in a way that only he could possibly make you feel, and with that, he releases too, so much that it overflows, dripping out of you even as he has more to give. He fucks you through your high and his, until you are dizzy with pleasure and so close to passing out, if it weren’t for him keeping you awake, keeping you focused, controlling every part of you, mind, soul, and body, the release was worth the effort, the strength, the trust, holy fuck, it was worth it all.

Slowing down, Zitao’s chest is heaving, and the space around you slowly begins to reappear, with your orgasm subsiding, overstimulated and exhausted, you begin to see clearly, and remember who you are.

“I’m yours.”

———

kinktober masterlist

[viviangreeneart]

At The Foot of My Bed

                             

    I stood at the foot of my bed. I was wearing a dark blue suit I didn’t recognize. The material was clearly expensive and well-tailored, hinting to a fit, lean body underneath.  A neat, white handkerchief was folded with care in the suit jacket’s breast-pocket. Staring forward , my green eyes were not the usual unattractive mix of exhaustion and hatred, but of contentment and maybe a little joy. Dark circles, like permanent eye shadow, of which I had grown accustomed to had not claimed these eyes. No, at the foot of my bed, those eyes did not have sagging, purple-grey flesh clinging to the bottom of their sockets like loose, cooked chicken skin. This skin was pink and tight. This me could be in an advertisement for eye cream they looked so damn healthy. Oh, and my scar! Where was that? The right side of his lips were unblemished. Had I never met the enraged man at the bar? Had his class ring that glimmered in the light as it came crashing down on me, snagging my lip and tearing it apart, not existed? Or had I simply not goaded him into a fight to begin with?

  If I had fought the man with this body, I would’ve surely won. I hadn’t lifted any form of weight in decades and a vegetable had not graced my dinner plate in just as long. The body in front of me most likely thrived on a high protein diet with a substantial side of greens. Perfect me smiled warmly, revealing his pearly white, exceptionally aligned teeth. It was apparent he never missed a single dentist appointment. I self-consciously rubbed my tongue against the bottom row of my broken, grey teeth. I felt like Narcissus gazing into the pool, aside from the fact that I did not have the beauty that the me at the foot of my bed possessed.

“Honey,” a ragged, drained voice called out from just outside my bedroom, ripping me out of my visual love affair with Perfect Me.

   “Uh, yeah?” I shifted my body to the left so I could see down the hallway. I could just make out the silhouette of my wife leaning out the bathroom doorway. 

  “Did you lock all of the doors?”

  “Yes, of course,” I sighed. This was part of our routine. I would say yes even I forgot. I could always lock up during my midnight fridge raid.

  “Oh good,” she said, disappearing into the bathroom.

   My attention returned to Perfect Me. He had only folded his arms during the pointless discourse with my wife. Suddenly a thought occurred to me - what would Tammy think when she saw him? I was still processing this when she ambled into our bedroom, wrapped in her floral house coat. Tammy passed the well-groomed me without a glance, plopping onto the bed next to me. It creaked under her weight as she settled in, shuffling the sheets about. Perfect Me’s eyes followed her movements with palpable endearment. A light smile played upon his lips as he watched her grab a book from her bedside table and open it to where her bookmark had laid snug since the night before.

   I struggled to recall the last time I looked at her with any form of love. Tammy was comforting and sweet in personality, but she was very mundane. I didn’t dislike my wife, but I found no beauty in her, inside or out. However, this undeniably gorgeous version of me, reacted as though Ava Gardner had just sauntered into the room garbed in an extravagant dressing gown. It was perplexing to say the least.

  “You don’t mind if I read for an hour or so, do you?” Tammy asked, eyes already glued to her book.

 “No, of course not,” I replied. I wanted an excuse to keep the lights on anyway. I couldn’t lose sight of Perfect Me. I wanted to speak with him. To ask how and why he looked so good compared to the ghoulish version of me that was hunkered down in a sagging bed next to his mediocre wife. Was he handed better opportunities than me? A better family than the hostile, demanding one I had been presented with? Was he accepted at a proper University instead of the community college I begrudgingly applied to? He certainly had a successful career, as was evidenced by his suit. In this life, I had only rented suits for special occasions. Fortunately, I was rarely invited to any occasion.

  I needed to speak with him, but if I could I only see him, I would look like an idiot speaking to myself. Well, I would be talking to myself. As I struggled to form a plan to communicate with him, I felt the bed sink slightly near my feet. Perfect Me had planted a knee down onto the bed. Too stunned to move, I caught sight of Tammy in my peripheral vision. She was oblivious to Perfect Me’s sudden advancement, with her nose inches away from her book, mouthing the text as she read. Perfect Me then leaned forward, placing his left hand next to my knee. His right hand, which was free of a wedding ring, reached out. Without hesitation, I brought myself upward and gripped his outstretched hand. His flesh was so soft in comparison to the harshness of mine. He must have a job that has been very kind to them, or at very least he moisturizes on a daily basis. My heart swelled as I met his gaze. I no longer cared about the possibility of Tammy looking up to see me holding onto an invisible force. Perfect Me grinned, letting out an easy, melodious chuckle.

  “Would you like to trade?” he whispered.

  My mind went to a story I read in elementary school, the Prince and the Pauper. 

  “Absolutely,” I whispered back.

  “So be it.” His grin widened into a sneer as he yanked me directly into him. 

   Bracing for a collision that never happened, I found myself on my back on the bedroom floor. Sitting up, I rubbed my forehead in an attempt to reorient myself. As I temporarily became distracted by how heavenly my skin felt, an unnatural itch crept throughout my body. I glanced down and saw the expensive suit Perfect Me had worn. It looked so comfortable on him, but on me, it felt like tiny bugs were burrowing their way into my skin. I tugged and pried erratically at the buttons of the jacket to no avail. It was like it was now a part of my skin. Or rather, it was my skin.

  Above, muffled voices broke me briefly from my turmoil. I jerked around and realized I was in front of my bed. Moving to my knees now, I peered upwards. I saw my old self in bed with Tammy. Hideous Me, with the horrific scar and the unfit body. They were deep in conversation. She giggled at whatever nonsense he was spouting. Her book lay abandoned on her lap.

   He pointed to her book and she nodded, giving a him a sugary sweet smile. As her eyes drifted away from him to the book, Hideous Me’s eyes shifted over to meet mine. He winked then returned his attention to my wife. I cried out to her, but could only release pitiful croaks as I fought against my suddenly weakened and dry vocal cords. I banged my fists on the bed as my warnings fell on deaf ears. I doubled over as blinding pain tore through my body. I silently whimpered, as I could no longer create sound. Despite it all, I shakily rose to my feet. Maybe after sometime I could convince whatever I traded places with to switch back. He will eventually regret inhabiting my old, misshapen body with my boring bookworm of a wife. Surely he will, I thought, as I watched him kiss her.

    I stood at the foot of my bed.

[starspray]

BTS for what your life is?

BTS: I’ll write a DVD commentary about my personal favorite passage from [that fic]

What Your Life Is was so much fun to write! I'd never done anything with Harad before and it was a lot of fun to do some worldbuilding there, and to figure out all the OCs--who they were, what their relationship to one another was, etc. I have a fair amount of notes that never made it into the fic, that I jotted down before I knew where the story itself was going to go.

It's a TRSB fic, for @independence1776's gorgeous moodboard. Fun fact, IIRC said moodboard was made with me in mind because I'd made a joke about having written Maglor being more or less forcefully befriended by smaller and hairier creatures (hobbits twice and Roverandom once) several years in a row for TRSB. I was extremely excited to snag it during claims!

It's very hard to pick a favorite passage but I'm very fond of this one:

"Father also wanted to ask if he can bring the family here before the storm season begins in earnest," said Mathos. "He does not feel it is safe anymore for anyone known to do business with Elves. And he promises to bring extra supplies." "Yes, of course," said Maglor. "You would all be welcome. I'll go tomorrow—" "You can't go!" Nanaia protested. "Haven't you been listening to what Mathos is saying?" Iset demanded at the same time. "I don't plan to draw attention to myself," Maglor said. "Besides, if what Barca told me is true, they all think I walk around dripping blood everywhere." "Huan will draw attention, and you know that he won't be left behind," said Iset. "He drew very little attention when we were there just a few weeks ago," said Maglor, "and I can change both his and my appearance if I must." "You said you couldn't, last time," said Iset. "I cannot shrink him down to the size of a cat," said Maglor, "but I can give him the seeming of—oh, I don't know, a pony or something. If I must. Huan can take care of himself, and I can of course change my own appearance." When Iset still looked skeptical he added, "I have sung the Lay of Leithian for you before. Do you remember Felagund's arts? If he could make himself look like an orc, I can certainly change my hair color." "You are not Felagund," Iset said, in the same tone that Vanna used to scold the twins when they tried to imitate the great heroes of their favorite tales. "No, I am not," Maglor agreed, only barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I am the one who taught him. It just takes more time and effort than I care to expend on a routine shopping trip. This will be different." "You aren't going to go to the temple, are you?" Mathos exclaimed. "Maglor, you can't!" "Everyone around here seems very sure of what I can and cannot do," Maglor said. "I have walked this world for more than three Ages of the Sun, remember, and faced far more serious dangers than a few Men in dark robes who believe they can bring Morgoth back from the Void with a few chants."

Maglor has just learned that the Sons of Elrond were looking for him before disappearing, and both fortunately and unfortunately for him he is surrounded by people who would very much like him not to endanger himself, but who also have been living with him in peace and (relative) safety for a long time, so they don't really know precisely what he's capable of. I love a Maglor who is both competent and confident--he's not very happy about this turn of events, but he's not going to shy away from doing what he has to, especially if Elrond's kids are involved.

I also really like the idea of Maglor having taught Finrod both music and magic back in Valinor, though I haven't done anything else with it.

What I liked most about writing this fic was now unsolitary Maglor is, in a pretty big departure from how he's typically written (and how I typically write him) post-Silm--it was part of Indy's premise with the moodboard, and it was so much fun to write a big complicated household/found family for Maglor to be a part and nominal head of. And I got to make OCs galore! There are a grand total of four canon characters present in this almost 20k word fic, and I think it's great.

[indepth-mbti]

First of all your Instagram posts are the best. I learn more about mbti and enneagram from you guys than from any other website. Anyway my situation is as follows: I'm kind of confused. My first mistype was Istp because of a test I took in quarantine for Covid and all my life I considered myself quite introverted. But now I am Entj? Regarding cognitive functions I always had Se and Ni between first and second place and I knew I was never the emotional type.

The most I can say is that I never followed the rules. Since I was little if I was told not to run the first thing I did was run and all in an immediate and natural way. I had a great imagination, all the time it was dreaming about what I could do. Even the reasons I couldn't concentrate on what I was doing was because I was thinking about what I would do next. As a child I wanted to have fun. Clearly I grew up, changed schools and became somewhat closed off. I was one of the best students because of my intelligence and I was always looking to get good grades. I was one of those "heartless" people who received a secret love letter, tore it up right away and threw it away in front of everyone and topics like love I always dismissed, there were times when I might like someone but having a partner was not a priority and I let the feeling just disappear.

With Entj's stereotype of being a leader I felt quite identified because I unconsciously always assumed the role of leader in any group. Actually I let a colleague be the team leader but I find it very funny that whenever they refer to our team they always think that I am the boss, I am only dedicated to organize the contents of the work. Another detail is that everything I do now is for a future that I want to achieve. I am one of those people who say to myself: "You have to work hard, you have to keep trying to be the best, if you keep doing that you will achieve what you want". Since I was little I was told that the world was a competition and although it was shocking I understood it perfectly. I'm a little bad at details, for example: making a mistake in an exam question by thinking and answering too fast without paying attention to what they were really asking for.

Outside of school I am flexible for routines and I try to keep my room in order but it is not my best quality. I consider myself a person capable of engaging in conversation with any group. I know perfectly well that I don't agree on tastes or topics of conversation but I was always able to talk to anyone. In front of adults I assume a position of a totally responsible person, mature (like any other). And with my friends I am quite spontaneous to a certain extent, they know that with topics about school I am extremely serious and focused.

Sorry for the length. It would help me to have some opinion with more experience on the subject. According to the enneagram I am 3w4. But I'm still reading to confirm if this is the case.

I think that Te dom seems correct. I'd say ENTJ but don't dismiss ESTJ. In my Instagram Guides you can find a detailed guide of ENTJ and ESTJ, read both of them and compare the auxiliary dynamics.

According to the Enneagram... you are either E6 or E3. You seem more focused on head triad issues than on image triad issues. But take a look at the hornevian groups according to enneagramer:

E3s belong to the assertive triad: Moving against others, focus on what the self needs/wants, they “demand” needs from others and the world. E3s in general are goal-oriented and based on action.

E6s belong to the superego triad: Moving with others, focus on what others’ need/want, society, “earn” needs. Focus on building a secure environment for all, being “human,” tribes.

[pheedraws]

wip day (2023 wrap-up edition)

I don't have a traditional end of 2023 summary post to make this year, because I can count the number of projects I actually finished on one hand. usually that would get me down, but taking some time away from art and writing and virtual photography this year allowed my relationship with costuming and conventions (something I've been struggling with since 2019) to improve as a result, and I've had an incredibly enjoyable year in that regard. having a heap of creative hobbies that all demand a certain level of attention can be physically draining, and I'm proud that I've taken some steps towards balancing them and understanding that it's okay if one avenue has to take a step back to allow another to be the focus.

it's not that I've completely ignored my other hobbies this year-- I have plenty of projects I'm genuinely excited about working on, I just didn't finish any of them. and that's okay!! they've been something positive to chip away at between other things, and not a chore I've felt obliged to complete.

so, in the spirit of a looming new year and all that jazz, have some snippets and screenshots of projects I've enjoyed taking my time with this year (predominately featuring jamie and danny, because they still have not relinquished their hold on my last remaining brain cell) ✨

☎️

His father had preached about the importance of routines the same way he had preached about everything— with stories of bloodshed, nailed into Danny’s psyche through training drills and lessons, in preparation for the day his son would leave to fight the wars he had never been able to come home from. Only, Danny never went to war, and his father never saw the day he began to tell stories of his own.

🌫️

Down on the shoreline, a gull cawed its mournful song. Fog had swallowed the end of the worn garden footpath trailing out beyond the bottom step of the porch, the chipped picket fencing of the Mayfield family home disappearing into its midst. Rowan stared into the abyss before her. The rhythmic sigh of the ocean, once soothing, now trickled by like sand through the timer on the kitchen windowsill, draining away what little remained.

[gaoau]

persimmon

it's the color of his voice.

is there color in your world? warnings — none. word count — 808

prev. — next.

rintarou stared with an amused smile plastered across his lips. they had already established that [name] wasn't one to get up with the sun—although the sun had started to accommodate to her schedule. she swayed in place, repositioning her feet every now and then to keep her balance.

her daily morning greeting disappeared into a yawn and melted in the drowsy simper she covered with her palm. she dug into her bag and handed him one of those containers he had grown to enjoy.

he admired the cut-up fruit, finding the deformed cubes where her knife had slipped when slicing, only for her to shrug and move on. "good morning, [name]," he initiated their routine for her.

"mornin', rintarou-kun." her eyes strayed behind him for a second. rintarou picked up the distinctive noise of fraternal bickering and an exasperated braincell begging them to stop. "ah, 'samu-kun, 'tsumu-kun, gin-kun, good mornin'." she pulled out a second container filled with rattling raisins. osamu caught it without trouble.

atsumu audibly gasped. "an' i get nothing'?!"

"sorry, 'tsumu-kun," [name] chortled, "i dunno whatcha like."

"what's this?" rintarou piped up again before atsumu could go in detail about what he'd like to eat in the morning. [name]'s smile darted back to him.

"persimmon—oh, i messed up."

"what?"

the gesture on her lips only widened as she laughed at herself. "i meant to show ya the color but i peeled it. woah, 'm embarrassed."

he glanced between the fruit and [name]. "so persimmon is also a color?"

"named after the fruit." she shrugged her shoulders, using her hands to emphasize it. "maybe it's good. ya get the fruit first, then the color."

his brow rose. "you won't show me unless we win?"

"should be a given."

"well, that's some motivation."

"hey, suna! get over here, c'mon!" and of course atsumu never had an ounce of tact in his entire existence.

rintarou threw a glare over his shoulder, finding both twins smacking each other's faces. he returned to [name]'s hazy eyes with a sigh. "you'll be cheering for us?"

"i've business with the student prez."

he hummed. "i'll walk you home."

"have fun, see ya." she presented her palm in the air. her nails, long and byzantium, made her fingers seem slender and refined.

he high-fived her to humor her. the smile he wore didn't budge. "see you." she had made those two words become a duo with a nod of his head. he didn't mind.

it hadn't taken him too long to memorize the directions to her house. they strolled past the amaranth bush she had shown him the first time they began walking together. he'd have to ask for another alegría if given the chance.

[name] didn't allow him to disappear into his thoughts and recount the colors she had taught him so far. her hand wrapped around his index finger, tugging at it to gain his attention. she used her free hand to point at a tree behind a closed gate.

"that's a persimmon tree, an' those're persimmons."

rintarou could've sworn his heart sank to his feet. he stared at [name] incredulously. "did you steal the persimmon you gave me?"

"the best-tastin' fruit's the stolen one." her teeth flashed into a mischievous grin that somehow resembled atsumu's. before he could demand she stopped spending time with the twins—for her sake—[name] bumped her shoulder against his. "i'm kiddin', i asked the kind lady if i could take a few ta share with my friends."

he still didn't put it past her to steal fruit. "it's a nice color." she had mentioned oranges were unique and maybe she was right. soft and gentle, it reflected in his eyes like the kindest hue he'd ever seen.

"i know, reminds me of yer voice."

he blinked. "what?" tumbled out of his mouth, his sights snapping towards [name].

"yer voice," she repeated. her eyes clicked warmly into his. he didn't hate it, he didn't mind it. the color of her irises was intense as it glimmered beautifully. "s'really nice. ya ever tried singin'?"

"uh, no?"

"we should go karaoke sometime." her smile didn't compare to the brightness of her gaze. yes, persimmon was a lovely color, and yet it couldn't dare to compare to her eyes.

"do you sing?"

[name] snorted. "wouldn't ya like to know."

rintarou's brows furrowed in sheer confusion at her answer. he really should start taking her words as a given. he couldn't ponder much over them as she dragged him by the finger to resume their walk. she didn't think about letting go until they reached her home.