#writing is real fun

[daisywords]

One of my biggest nitpicks in fiction concerns the feeding of babies. Mothers dying during/shortly after childbirth or the baby being separated form the mother shortly after birth is pretty common in fiction. It is/was also common enough in real life, which is why I think a lot of writers/readers don't think too hard about this. however. Historically, the only reason the vast majority of babies survived being separated from their mother was because there was at least one other woman around to breastfeed them. Before modern formula, yes, people did use other substitutes, but they were rarely, if ever, nutritionally sufficient.

Newborns can't eat adult food. They can't really survive on animal milk. If your story takes place in a world before/without formula, a baby separated from its mother is going to either be nursed by someone else, or starve.

It doesn't have to be a huge plot point, but idk at least don't explicitly describe the situation as excluding the possibility of a wetnurse. "The father or the great grandmother or the neighbor man or the older sibling took and raised the baby completely alone in a cave for a year." Nope. That baby is dead I'm sorry. "The baby was kidnapped shortly after birth by a wizard and hidden away in a secret tower" um quick question was the wizard lactating? "The mother refused to see or touch her child after birth so the baby was left to the care of the ailing grandfather" the grandfather who made the necessary arrangements with women in the neighborhood, right? right? OR THAT GREAT OFFENDER "A newborn baby was left on the doorstep and they brought it in and took care of it no issues" What Are You Going to Feed That Baby. Hello?

Like. It's not impossible, but arrangements are going to have to be made. There are some logistics.

[evilmafuyu666]

[alexanderpearce]

ship ask game 😁1 Who would be first to to bite down anc consume the flesh of the other, euphoric in the taste and the heft and the slide of the blood 2. who is the ant and who is the ophiocordyceps fungus? 3. who is the dog and who is the master? 4 when the roles are blurred or reversed who would be first to die and how? would it be by bulletwound? the phallic blade? strangulation? 5. Cocaine or Heroin? 6. who licks up the other’s cigarette ash? 7 who is julius caesar and who is brutus? 8. who is jesus and who is judas? 9. did jesus want it? did julius caesar know it was coming? are the betrayed ever proud? 10. who is irrumatus and who is irrumans? who is pedicatus and who is pedicans? 11. did they ever kiss and why not? 12 if they are two sides of the same coin who is heads and who is tails? 13. and if the coin was the holey dollar? 14. And if the dog bit back? 15 and if the dog bit back? 16 and if the dog bit back? 17 and if the dog bit back? 18 and if the dog bit back? 19 and if the dog bit back? 20. Who buys the other flowers?🥰

[matchingbatbites]

"What the fuck did you do?"

Eddie wasn't expecting hostility when he answered Jeff's phone call, his best friend's usual calm demeanor replaced with open annoyance. And yeah, okay, the annoyance itself wasn’t new, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s actually done anything recently to earn it.

"Well-"

"Actually, no. I'll tell you what you did. You retweeted photos of Steve Harrington - internationally beloved heartthrob actor Steve Harrington - along with the caption 'not to sound like a subby slut but GOD I would be his puppy baby boy in a heartbeat'. So I guess the better question is, what the fuck were you thinking, Eddie?"

Eddie's jaw clicks shut because- yeah, he had done that. Had seen those photos of Steve smoking circling the internet and spent god knows how long just staring at them, had curbed the desire to shove his hand down his pants by posting a single thirst tweet about it.

“I was thinking, Jeff, that I'm allowed to post whatever I want to my private fucking twitter, man. I mean it's a free country, isn't a guy allowed to make a horny tweet about a sexy man every now and then?”

“You are, when you actually post it to your private account and not our award winning band's main account.”

No. Oh no. There's no way Eddie actually-

He rips his phone away from his face to open twitter, and realizes two things simultaneously. One, Jeff is right, he had posted it to the band's account. Not on his private, locked, personal account, but on the account that's actually open and free for literally anyone on earth to look at.

The second thing he realizes is that their notifications are currently flooded with responses to Eddie's tweet, somehow racking up into the thousands in the few hours it's been since. 

Jesus Christ.

“Eddie?”

The metalhead jerks back into the moment and put Jeff on speaker so he can scroll through the horde of replies, says “Fuck, I fucked up. Are we gonna have to do damage control on this?”

In the mess is a reply from Gareth's own personal account: @ corrodededdie stop tweeting from the band account challenge 🙄🙄🙄

”Maybe. There hasn't been any type of response from Harrington or his people, but they might ask us to take it down if it blows up too much.“

Eddie hums, thinking they might be too little, too late about it blowing up too much, and flips over to his main account so he can reply to Gareth's little jab appropriately. He isn't surprised to see that he has a couple of new messages, probably from other people wondering just what the fuck Eddie was thinking, but when he goes to check them-

He's never been happier that he turned on messages from followers only, because then he would have missed this, missed Steve Harrington's little profile picture beaming up at him from the screen of his phone, along with a new message request.

”Jeff, I gotta go,” he says, not even realizing he's cut the other man off.

“Eddie, what-

”Harrington messaged me. I'll call you back.“

Eddie doesn't wait for a response as he hangs up on Jeff, and his hands definitely aren't shaking as he opens the message from Steve. And listen- Eddie is a fan of the guy, that much should be obvious. 

Steve had grown in popularity around the same time Corroded Coffin had; he’d gotten some part in a drama film that had skyrocketed him into stardom, and Eddie fell in love the moment he saw that gorgeous face on the silver screen for the first time. He's never had a chance to interact with the guy, has been in the same place a few times but always missed him, like ships passing in the night, but Eddie's been fine with pining from afar, just like every other person on the planet that's even remotely attracted to men.

Besides, even with how popular Corroded Coffin has gotten over the years - a couple of Grammy’s here, a dozen chart topping metal songs there - Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to just. Know who Eddie is.

With all of this in mind, Eddie is expecting some kind of semi-casual request to take the tweet down, that it's not a good look for his image-

Anything other than what Steve actually sent.

'If you're puppy baby boy, does that make me Master? Or Daddy?'

And Eddie- 

Eddie slides down, sinks into his couch cushion as all of the blood in his body suddenly shifts, rushing to fill his dick like it's a fucking race. The phone almost slips out of his hand and he fumbles it briefly before taking a deep breath. 

Is Steve serious? He wouldn't send that if he wasn't serious, right?

This could be it, could be Eddie's one chance to impress Steve, to get his foot in the door of Steve's interest. He bites his lip and types out a reply, something quick that he sends before he can change his mind.

‘I’m open to either, actually. Do you have a preference, sir?’

He doesn’t expect the typing indicator to come up immediately, and just knowing that Steve is somewhere right now, typing out a response to Eddie, is enough to have him nearly vibrating in his seat.

‘I’m partial to Daddy, myself.’

Fuck fuck fuck.

Eddie takes a breath, tries to think of a response that isn’t just ‘Please, Daddy, can I sit on your massive dick that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that one indie film you did that just had all of your junk out in the open?’

Steve saves him by sending another message.

‘But maybe we could start with Steve, and possibly dinner? Though I’d be happy to see where things go after that.’

He- What-

Eddie must have stopped breathing, because the next time he takes a breath his lungs burn, his mid races because there’s no way Eddie’s long term celebrity crush just asked him on a date. He sits there long enough that the screen goes dark and he scrambles to turn it back on, sees the message still there, real and unchanged.

There’s no way he can say no to this, to Steve, and his hands shake as he types out a response.

‘Dinner would be great. Just name the time and place, Daddy.’

[fryologyy]

wander over yonder sketchdump!

[arthursfuckinghat]

The sun is your halo, for it is always above you.

Arthur and Weetabix 𑁦𐂂𑁦 Scarlett Meadows

[ribbonsinurhair]

the feminine urge to fantasise about being in a romantic relationship and then do nothing to be in one

[lightnersdream]

i've been thinking about exactly why people portraying one of the other crew members successfully killing Jimmy as a "for what you did to Anya" kind of thing rubs me the wrong way a bit and it's because like..... this is just another form of taking agency away from Anya, in a way. it's kind of framing her as some meek, shivery woman-thing who's entirely at the mercy of the men around her, either to hurt her or save her.

(i understand these are mostly for wish fulfillment on the audience's behalf because everyone would like to see Jimmy pay for his crimes. whether or not this is the intention of the person writing it isn't really relevant, characterization happens with or without intent. i feel like it misses the point by portraying it as an 'ideal ending'.)

because... Anya is a capable person. she takes things into her own hands when she can. it was partially(?) her idea to get into the cargo,

(before he interrupts her.. remember when she interrupted Curly in the dead pixel segment?)

it was her idea to get the code scanner from the cockpit,

it was her idea to get the medication from behind the foam.

(the chance to do these things herself is not given to her.)

she'd been keeping Curly alive for months in a critical state somehow, her psych evaluations at the start are only so useless because Jimmy refuses to take it/her seriously and Curly is obviously biased when he puts it into his own hands. he's known him a long time, like he said. "I'll just put good for that one."

there's not a lot of material to work with because of how the game is framed, but it's there. we are working with two very biased perspectives and neither one lends Anya what she deserves

there's significant changes in how she speaks post- and pre- crash, and depending on who she happens to be talking to. i recommend re-reading her dialogue, because the difference is drastic

she acts the way she does around Jimmy because he has tangibly done horrible things to her, is actively hostile, and physically could not escape him by any means. she can't take away Curly's agency herself, in my eyes. you have to remember that Especially in the post-crash segments of the game, it's entirely from Jimmy's POV, and he obviously does not (and has never) thought very highly of her or treated her with a shred of respect

i've seen a general idea that she can't bear to hurt other people for any reason, but that doesn't really track to me. this is the real point of the post by the way

it seems based on the parts where she says she struggles to give Curly medication. "It just hurts him so much, I can't stand the noise." "It makes me nauseous."

it's not really the same thing as, say, hurting someone in self defense

this sounds like she did want the gun itself. this never felt worded like someone who would refuse to, at very least, threaten Jimmy with a gun, with violence. if she had been given the agency to make that decision on her own. she wasn't though

she still tries to reclaim some of it even as she's denied it

by the end she's still trying to keep that gun out of his hands

i think some people overly soften her, for similar reasons the game itself is trying to comment on. she's not a tender victim who couldn't cause pain to another out of the softness of her soul, she's a person who's had every last bit of agency ripped from her repeatedly until she couldn't take it anymore. that's the point. that's why framing her that way, "needing" someone to save her, is odd to me

she didn't need Curly to save her, she needed him to take responsibility

she didn't want to escalate things, but she's not an idiot. self defense was absolutely on her mind

but who knows im just saying shit *smiles serenely*

[agathasvidal]

has anyone considered that agatha may have continued murdering witches because it was her only way to see rio

[lemongogo]

they should get to kill each other at least twice .i think

[mattodore]

birthday boy 🎂

[alderaphid]

Okay ngl I resonate with Sun's new voicelines I feel like he'd be such an excellent person to bitch with. Just talk absolute smack about the terrible people you deal with on a day to day basis, do the thing where your customer service facade drops as soon as they turn their back and just call em an asshole. Sharing that "are they serious rn" look. Ribbing each other and bantering back and forth reading each other for filth. I think he'd have snappy and funny as hell comebacks. I think he'd love making whomever he's working with just break down in giggles over his deadpan delivery and sarcastic theatrics, especially if it interferes with their work and makes them stop what they're doing completely to double over with laughter. Those are his proudest moments. Just a right clown that stops you from being as productive as management wants but it's only a little irritating because he's funny as hell and the place you work at sucks.

[greenconverses]

again i say to you

if this man would just let the percy series mature and dig deeper into the emotional arcs he presents in chalice and wrath instead of hopping from one kooky adventure to the next and undermining any story depth with fart and piss jokes and blatant flagging to the disney+ audience, we could have had a very good set of stories on our hands

but NO

percy's rage issues, grief, trauma, and just the general angst of being an older teenager on the cusp of a huge life change are all there and every time the story touches them, it's like RR gets electrocuted and told to get back to Conflict Free Therapy Speak zone before things get too messy

additionally, the third act upping the stakes to Oh Shit We're Gonna Die doesn't work if we already know 1) everyone lives and 2) PERCY GETS INTO COLLEGE at the end of this. the whole point of the series has already been decided!! there are no stakes with your main plot or any of the bullshit mini quests! the opportunity to go for a deep dive character book is there and waiting and ready

but NOOOOOOOOO

gotta make sure all of our main characters have been peed on instead, it's fine

[yayll]

omg PLSPLSPLS GIVE US GIRLDAD!DAZAI!!! Im literally so obsessed w ur work and luv luv luv reading it <3

just wanna say thank u so much anon for sending in the CUTEST request ever i have never thought abt it this way and when i finally did it was over for me. it wrote itself. THANK U FOR LIKING MY WORK THATS SO SWEET AHHH :') i keep getting ill so srry it's a lil late but i am so thankful for you trusting me w ur concept. mwahhhh.

~ a little something about girldad!Dazai simply trying his best, and loving it ~

Dazai never thought the day would come when his life finally felt complete. First, you happened to him and that was something he couldn't even fathom in a million lifetimes. It wasn't meant for him, and letting love into his heart felt like going against the nature of things. He struggled with it for a long time, pushing you away and making sure you realized this wasn't something worth pursuing... but you never relented, and he stopped fighting the longing for something more. You made him feel it was okay to want, to yearn, to need. And so came along every single repressed desire he had ever had. The love between you bloomed, and he thought this was the height of it all; The bandages he wore over his body were no longer grim reminders of his lack of humanity and the masks he wore on the daily. Those frayed wraps of fabric were symbols of love returning, of patience, of a lived in soul, and he no longer had to maintain them alone. He had you.

And then one day, he suddenly had a little girl in his life.

Another life to nurture and to start anew with, and his fear was that he yet again could not redeem himself from his past, but he was determined for her, for you and for himself to not let that be the case. When you gave him the most precious thing he didn't think he ever wanted nor could ever have, that was the day he vowed to be the epitome of a true figure worth looking up to. Osamu Dazai, the family man! Dad of the year!

... Except today, when he woke up late to take the apple of his eye to preschool. You were out of town, and though you eventually claimed to have faith in his solo parenting skills, it was a complete leap of faith. He comforted you for hours, how hard could it be? He can be both parents at once! How cruel of you to even doubt him. He remembers the look on your face when he slammed the door on you while holding your precious angel in his arms, both of them giggling while they waved you off as if they rehearsed it.

Aaaand now he realized why you were so worried. He looks at the time and he springs out of bed, running off to her bedroom. She even sleeps like a little lamb, he thinks to himself. He rushes at her side and softly turns her over.

"Little love, wake uuupppp..."

She pouts, shaking her head as she shifts in her sleep. He sighs and tries again a little more desperately.

"If you wake up, that will be really good for daddy, otherwise mommy will kill me! Up we go!"

He picks her up, and she rubs her eyes as Dazai does the most rushed morning routine ever.

He gets her dressed, though the socks don't match, and when he does her pigtails, they're lopsided. How do you do it?! And now he has to FEED her?! He stuffs a few handfuls of cereal into his mouth while giving her a proper bowl, but they're so late he thinks they should just start walking now.

"Take the bowl with you, we can do this thing called eat and walk! Yes?"

"'Kay, daddy!"

She simply giggles, not understanding how dire it is for her to make it today. She holds onto her cereal bowl as he grabs her backpack, both of them walking out into the street. Dazai's fast walking and her bowl sloshes a bit as she tries to match his pace and eat at the same time.

She's waddling adorably, and he gets lost in watching her carefully while also literally getting lost finding the school. He stops at the crosswalk, and thinks to himself. She looks up at him with a milk mustache, and her soft melodic voice rings once more like a voice of reason. She points to the right.

"That way! hehe."

Dazai has no time to fact check this, and at this point she's parenting him. You'd pass out of laughter if you could see him right now. They rush towards the school, and when he drops her off at the gate, he gives her a big kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, okay? Now give daddy the cereal bowl. How yum was that?"

She cheers, smiling wide.

"Yum!!!!"

He smirks, and takes the bowl. At least he got that right, that smile alone is worth every late start to his mornings. He waves at her as she enters the school, and forgets he's holding the bowl still, her teacher looking at him like he's deranged. You were so proud to hear that his first time parenting alone went so smooth! What you didn't know was that your little girl did most of the work keeping him on track. Still counts, right?

Another time he was exemplary was when he had just given her a bath and you were supervising to make sure he got her routine down.

"Osamu, that's the conditioner. The shampoo is over there."

You laugh while pointing at the clearly marked bottle. He rolls his eyes, smirking as he continues to rub it in her little swirl of dark hair.

"Oh please, I knew that. This makes it soft! And all detangled... It's a better routine, trust me. This is so much better."

He was totally bullshitting, he had no idea there was more than one hair product ever. This is the same man who used to find showers foreign and eat canned crab for every meal. You simply nodded, seeing right through his facade. But it was all so endearing watching your daughter splash the water on his face and play with rubber duckies, it was a dream come true. It was a dream you knew was more precious to him than anything, so you let him have his fun.

Once bath time is over, he places her on the bed in her diaper and walks out to grab her a change of clothes. Uh oh, he forgot today was laundry day! He walks back into the room a few moments later, thinking of how to pivot without having to bother you when he sees his little angel wrapped head to toe in a full roll of his bandages. His eyes go wide at the sight of the wrapped up toddler, and he laughs nervously as he rushes over while she has the time of her life squealing and rolling around the bed. He pretends to be mad.

"Little love! That's not clothes, silly! That's for daddy only, you have your own."

She simply disregards this, her mind focusing on how hilarious it would be if she just started making bubbles with her saliva instead. Dazai chuckles again, and puts his hands on his hips.

"Oh, such attitude! You know, l'm gonna have to do it... Remember when I told you about daddy's old job? I'm gonna have to get mean againnn..~"

He immediately launches himself onto the bed, tickling her through the thick fabric, and when you rush over you find them both just collapsed on the bed, Dazai counting her fingers and toes in order to distract her enough to unwrap her. Luckily, you had a spare onesie for her to save the day... even if it took the both of you to get her out of her improvised outfit. What a strong willed little one! You hoped this wasn't a special abillity developing...

It's no surprise she's a daddy's girl either, a mini Dazai at her core with your balancing characteristics on the surface. She was a little menace, sticking her tongue out at dogs every time she saw them because Dazai would do the same. He would even go as far as to help her dress like her hero! Of course you both had a stroke when you saw how tightly she wore that bolo tie, but the laugh after was worth the worry... After you scolded both of them... but it proved useless against two of the most experienced charmers you've ever met. You just couldn't win.

You especially could never get used to the sight after a long day of existing in the real world, simply watching her climb up to the couch and playing with Dazai's hair as she nuzzles herself into his shoulder, right in the crook of his neck. It was just as intense for his poor little heart as well. The way she'd yank on a strand while he pretended to be asleep was priceless, or when she'd stick her finger in his nose, causing him to have a sneezing fit soon after. It was almost karmic the way she both adored him and put him in his place, just like you.

"Daddy has brown hair because he drinks chocolate milk."

"Daddy stinks today. Throw him away!"

"Daddy looks like a mummy. Do you like mummies?"

"Who's Kunikida? He yelled at daddy today, it was funny!"

She'd babble on about all kinds of curious nonsense. You'd simply nod and agree. She was never wrong!

But what really got to you was watching her pass out on his head after hours of playtime, and the way Dazai would finally open his eyes with that smug smile of his, scooping her up and carefully taking her to bed. He tucks her in, whispering about all the adventures they'll have tomorrow and the days after. About all the rules they'll break together, and mysteries they'll solve when he takes her to work with him. He doesn't tell bedtime stories per se, but he spends all his time having actual conversations with her until she dozes off because he cannot believe this is a little extension of him and he's just as fascinated with knowing her the way she is with him. With life.

She's full of it, something he wasn't for a long time, and it brings him to tears when he sometimes thinks about it too long in private.

You're both his life and he didn't realize he could still feel regret like he does when he thinks of all the times he spent trying to end his own existence. It's a whole different world, and sure, he also loves to use her as an excuse to continue to slack off at work, and maaaybe he likes to sometimes force Atsushi to turn so she can pet him like the giant cat he is out of both their own entertainment, but dying is no longer the priority. It hasn't been for a long time, and he thinks he's doing an okay job... At being a dad, at being a human, at belonging in this world.

When he finally gets in bed with you, he feels whole. He also feels impish when he turns over and whispers.

"Maybe it's time for another, hm?~"

Oops!

[robinfollies]

and we believed ourselves when we said we’d never be alone again 🌼🌈💖

[milfhunter6698]

acquainted

Warnings: 18+ Smut, no use of (y/n), cursing, no describing reader’s appearance, explicit language, nakedness, fluff, angst, teasing, head cannons, imagines, slow living, Victoria’s right-hand, switch!reader & Victoria, just constantly fighting for dominance.

pairing: Victoria neuman, x female reader

notes: Here’s some super-long brainrot, random ass head cannons/Imagines- gosh! i don’t even know where to begin!!!! this woman’s driving me crazy and she’s consuming my every thought, I can’t stop thinking about her helpppp.

wc: 2.5k (slightly proof read)

Watch you fall asleep 

You watch as Victoria, her breathing steadying, drifts into a peaceful sleep beside you. Your fingers, still tracing her bare back, lightly brush against her skin. 

You exhale softly, your heart swelling with warmth at the sight.

The usual tense expressions had softened in sleep, her features relaxed and free from the lines of worry that usually marked her face. In the dim moonlight filtering through the window, you could see the gentle rise and fall of Victoria’s chest as she breathed deeply.

Yet even in her sleep, Vic seemed to carry a hint of vulnerability—a reminder of the struggles she faced each day,

For you, who had grown accustomed to seeing her on edge, anxious, always on guard against potential threats, this moment of calm was a revelation. Recognizing that beneath the stoic exterior lay a heart burdened by the weight of past traumas.

With a gentle touch, you brush the strands of hair that messily splayed over the pillow, tucking them behind her ear. You place a soft kiss on her forehead, the scent of her shampoo filling your nostrils. As you pull away, you take one last look at her serene face, committing the moment to memory.

Turning to the opposite side, you allow yourself to drift back to sleep, the comfort of her presence still lingering in the air.

Late night shifts 

It was past regular working hours, and the city lights glitter outside. The sleek modern office is cluttered with case files, glowing computer screens, and takeout containers.

It’s nearing midnight. Victoria, sits at her desk, rolling up the sleeves of her dress shirt. Her focus is sharp, and her eyes flick back and forth between a digital blueprint on her screen and a series of notes in her leather-bound notebook.

Across from her, you were half-leaning, half-sitting on the edge of the desk, scrolling through data on a tablet. You were dressed more casually now, with your blazer hanging on the back of a chair. The only sound is the hum of the air conditioning and the occasional beep from the computer.

You finally break the silence. “So, Thai or pizza?” You hold up a couple of takeout menus.

Victoria glances up, giving you a tired smile. “Let’s go with pizza. We’re going to need carbs to get through this.”

A while later, the room got filled with the smell of pepperoni and garlic as you dive into your food. For a moment, work takes a back seat. Between bites, You look over at Vic, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Remember when we first met?”

She chuckles, setting her pizza slice down. “How could I forget? You were convinced you’d outshine everyone in the room.”

You laugh. “And I did. That presentation was flawless.”

“You were good, I’ll give you that,” Victoria replies, leaning back in her chair. “But you had this edge, this competitiveness that made me think, ‘Alright, this one’s either going to be a star or a pain in the ass.’”

You roll your eyes playfully. “You weren’t exactly Ms. Congeniality yourself. You kept throwing curveball questions during the meeting.”

“You were unflappable,” Victoria says, with a hint of admiration. “Most people would’ve cracked.”

“Well, most people aren’t me.” You grin, leaning forward as if challenging her. “Admit it—you were impressed.”

Victoria nods reluctantly but the smile that appeared on her face was genuine. “I was. That’s why I knew I needed someone like you by my side.”

There’s a brief silence as you both sip on your drinks, the mood more relaxed now.

You then say, “You know, it’s strange. I thought we’d be at each other’s throats, considering how competitive we are. But here we are, doing late-night stakeouts over spreadsheets and pizza.”

Victoria looks thoughtful for a moment before replying. “It’s because we respect each other. We push each other, but it’s always to be better. That’s what makes us a great team.”

You nod, the banter turning into something more sincere. “Yeah, I guess we make a hell of a good pair. Even if it’s more ‘good cop, bad cop’ most of the time.”

Vic smirks. “And we both know who the bad cop is.”

“Please, I’m the fun one,” You retort with a laugh, tossing a crumpled napkin at her.

After a few more moments of easy conversation and laughter, you slowly return back to your work. 

winding down 

As You returned after running an errand, you stepped into the quiet, empty space of your home. The sun had already begun to set, casting a warm hue throughout the room. Your voice echoed as you called out Victoria's name, searching for any sign of her.

Your gaze fell upon the partially open bathroom door, from which a soft, inviting glow emanated. You gently pushed it open, finding Victoria submerged in the bathtub, her eyes closed, a peaceful expression on her face. The water was warm and soothing, bathing the scene in a calming light.

There she was, lost in the tranquil embrace of the bath, her long hair spread around her like a river of dark silk.

You stood there, taking it all in. The sight of her at peace was unexpectedly soothing. Your shoulders eased, tension slipping away. "Hey," you whispered softly. You couldn't help but admire her form, the dim lighting dancing across her skin.

Smiling gently, you held out the chilled bottle of champagne, extending an invitation. "Mind if I join you?" Victoria's gaze locked with yours, and she gratefully accepted the offering. "Oh god, yes," she sighed, pouring the wine into your glasses.

Eager to be near her, you began to quickly undress, your blazer, belt, and pants pooling at your feet. As you stepped into the warm water with her.

Settling down in the tub, facing Victoria, as she passed you a glass. "How was your meeting this morning?" The question hung between you, as you took a sip of your own champagne.

Your work at the Bureau not always overlapping. Even being her assistant, you didn't really attend all of the Vought-related meetings with her, and this week was one of them. Sighing, you surrendered to the bath's warmth, cherishing this little quiet moment.

Victoria sighed, her leg brushing against yours under the water. "You know the usual," she replied, sipping her wine. Another sigh escaped her lips. "I couldn't believe it when I finally got to leave today. This week's been fucking stressful." She let out a soft, irritated scoff. "Sometimes I wonder why in hell I ever took on this job."

Her voice carried a hint of annoyance, but you could sense the underlying contentment.

You laughed softly, taking another sip of your glass. "Yeah, tell me about it," You said, pulling her in as she rested her back against your chest.

The warmth of the water and the comfort of Victoria in your arms soothed your frayed nerves. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment, the stress of the week slowly melting away.

A comfortable silence fell in the bathroom as you two lay there, the sound of the water and your breathing the only sounds filling the space. Vic rests her head on your shoulder, her eyes closed, and mind still, enjoying the comfort of your presence. 

The silly little things 

"Where the hell did it go?" You watched as Victoria frantically searched the room, her pacing movements growing more erratic. A strand of hair fell across her face, and she pushed it back with a quick motion.

You couldn't help but laugh softly, calling out her name as you leaned against the doorframe. "Vic, I got it." But she didn't respond, her focus entirely on her frantic search. You chuckled, amused by her desperation to get ready.

"Calm down, love," You said, raising her blouse in the air as a sign of your triumphant finding. You took a few steps towards her, your hand gently landing on her shoulder to redirect her attention. "I've ironed it out for you. Relax."

Victoria's head snapped to yours, and a sigh of relief escaped her lips as she took the blouse. "God you're such a life saver." She leaned in for a quick, grateful kiss before pulling away. 

"You're welcome." You smiled as she slipped into the blouse, buttoning it up.

She hurried to her bathroom, her voice growing distant as she called out, "You coming? I'm hoping to beat traffic."

"No, but I'll be right behind you," You replied from the other side of the room, grabbing your own clothes and starting to get dressed.

Vic stepped out of the bathroom, her heels clicking on the floor as she gathered her things. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and walked out the door, her scent still lingering in the air.

You chuckled in amusement, shaking your head at her comment about firing you. "No, I wouldn't want that," You called out, a smile playing on your lips as you watched her leave.

In your usual spot, amidst the buzzing energy of the bullpen, you sat working on some paperwork when you glanced up and saw Victoria emerge from the elevator. She called out your name, her gaze flicking to her wrist as she checked the time.

"Please tell me you got-" she began, but you already knew what she wanted. You swiftly handed her the report without breaking eye contact with your desk. Victoria trailed off as you also presented her with a cup of coffee. A grin tugged at her lips as she teased, "And what about-"

You cut her off, your gaze shifting back to her. A coy smile played on your lips as you replied, "Oatmilk, lots of sugar, just how you like it. Anything else?" Her smile widened, and she quipped, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't marry you right now."

You chuckled, watching her as she walked down the hallway to her office. And with a sigh you returned to your work.

Not backing down not without a fight (NSFW) 

Victoria thrives on pushing you to the brink, relishing in the way she can make you squirm. Her love for power is apparent in every aspect of her life, and she particularly enjoys sex when she's in complete control. For you, your euphoria comes from the depth of her desire and the way her body responds.

She revels in having the upper hand and the dominance, the teasing that leaves you both wanting more. But here's the secret no one knows: You love it just as much.

In your bedroom battles, you constantly fight to see who's better, who has the most effect on the other. Your passion often leads to moments where one of you becomes overstimulated, while the other smirks with a smug satisfaction.

“Fuck!” The sensation of Victoria's body grinding against your fingers, her skin slick with heat, made your head spin. Your gaze locked on hers. seeing the raw pleasure coursing through her, the evidence in her gasps, whines, and moans that filled the air. Your lips met in a bruising collision, stealing her breath in a gasp that melded with a soft, needy moan.

In that moment you knew she was close— so you slowed your pace, teasing her, denying her the release she craved. You wanted to savor her every reaction, every shudder, every moan as you brought her closer to the edge.

The change in pace caught her off guard, and a frustrated whine escaped her, your eyes lingered on her, taking in the sight of her flushed face, framed by her loose brunette curls. The image burning into your memory.

“Hmm?" You mumbled playfully, your lips brushing against hers, fingers paused, almost hesitant to move. "Didn't hear that?"

Victoria let out a shaky gasp, her body arching slightly against you. She couldn’t hide how every touch, every tease made her heart race faster, her body begging for more.

Through the haze of desire, she maintained the eye contact, her voice breathless and a bit annoyed. “You... you know what I’m trying to say... please...”

You let out a sadistic chuckle, your fingers still unmoved inside of her. You shook your head slightly, feigning ignorance.

"No, I don't think I do." You whispered. 

Frustration surged through her, a whine escaping her lips as you continued to ignore her pleas. The look of utter satisfaction on your face made her want to growl in frustration, but all that came out was another needy whimper.

She began, her voice hoarse with desire. "You know that's not fair… please, I... I can't take it anymore. You're driving me fucking crazy."

Grasping her body, you finally curled your fingers, feeling the way her walls immediately clenched. "Good," You whispered, and continued pushing hard into her, hitting that spot that makes her vision go white. 

Her breaths quickened. Her vision blurred, and she gasped, fingers digging into your shoulders.

"Oh God.... Please don't stop..." Her words were breathless, and full of need.

And you didn’t, your heart pounded as you felt her body convulse beneath your touch, her moans filling the car. You clutched her tightly, feeling her squirm in your embrace, your own arousal building with each thrust of your fingers. You held her legs down, maintaining a steady rhythm as her velvety walls gripped around your fingers, the sensation sending shivers down your spine.

The sound of your hushed words echoed in the air as you clutched her, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through her. Her body writhed above you, her oversensitive flesh quivering from the lingering touch of your fingers.

Her breaths came in short, gasping moans, her voice trembling as she begged for release. "Oh... god..."

Yet again you ignored her pleas, you pulled her close, your lips crashing in a deep, open-mouthed kiss. You drank in every sensual sound, every moan that escaped her mouth, as you relentlessly thrusted deeper inside her.

"I... I can't... I can't take much more..” 

Slipping a third finger into her, you whispered low and husky, "Shh, come on. One more..." You could feel Victoria's body tense, the edge of her climax drawing near.

With a final, deep thrust, you drew out a second orgasm from her. Her body jolted, but you still held her close, your lips never leaving hers, absorbing every tremble and every gasp.

As her body finally stilled, you slowly withdrew your fingers, a hand lingering on her thigh. She looked up at you, her eyes glazed over with pleasure, her chest heaving with each breath.

She mumbled something and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly, brushing a lock of hair from her flushed face, and gently guided her head against your neck, savoring her warmth as your heart swelled with pride. 

A huff of feigned annoyance escaped her.

"You really know how to throw me off balance, you know that?" She muttered against your throat, her voice a mock grumble.

Your voice tinged with playfulness as you responded, "Oh believe me, I do.” 

A scoff-laugh escaped her as she nuzzled her nose into the nape of your neck. And your hand gently traced and tapped her back in a comforting rhythm, while the silence gradually crept into the car.