#then i can sit in my apartment and write stories and make music and paint art and still survive

[draculas-tits]

only doing IT work until the estrogen makes it easy enough for people to fetishize me and i can start living off losers with too much money to burn

#then i can sit in my apartment and write stories and make music and paint art and still survive #thats what i need

[kedsandtubesocks]

Your boyfriend is missing - but that shouldn’t be a cause for concern… right?

pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

wc: 5.6k

warnings & tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. dark elements. roleplay that can be read as yandere like behavior, heavy prey/predator, stalking, moment of home intrusion, fear & knife play, sexual allusions, a lot of licking and spit, finger sucking, themes of terror and fear, feral Gojo, aftercare, reader is called (doll, pretty, baby, angel) also everyone is alive & nothing hurts AU…if I missed anything please let me know

a/n: this is my second submission to Willow’s Haunted House Collab! To be honest…this is my first time writing content like this so I’m a little nervous about posting this piece so I appreciate you taking the time to read and hope you enjoy! Also big thank you to @willowser & @skeletoncowboys for being the best (and worst) little devils on my shoulder to get me to write this

You’re still surprised Shoko knows this many people. But then again a part of you isn’t.

The Halloween party fills every inch of her nice Tokyo apartment. The array of colored lights dance against the wild costumes and you wonder if you’ve slipped into a pocket of wonderland.

Taking a sip of your drink you also now curiously wonder if your faux blood sucking boyfriend has fallen down a rabbit hole himself.

The original plan was to go in matching couples outfits. But once your slightly erratic boyfriend spotted the dracula outfit at the costume store his grabby hands immediately snagged it.

“I’ll look hotter in this one. You understand right, angel?” Satoru triumphant grin said enough.

Begrudgingly, you did. And you couldn’t deny how gorgeous he looked.

White summer cloud hair slicked back, the realistic fake vampire fangs he wore, and even borrowing your eyeliner to add shadow like depth around his piercing baby blues -

He was the dream of every dark supernatural romance novel.

Now among the blaring music and excited chatter of the party your handsome vampire has slipped through your fingers.

Your feet are starting to ache and your soft bed is calling you home. So you decide to scan the crowd for him.

From your spot in the kitchen your attention flickers out to the thick of the party in the living room. You spot Haibara laughing so bright and looking adorable in his spooky scarecrow costume. Nanami stands beside him, simple devil horns on top of his head and a slightly amused grin coloring his distinguished features.

Geto, dressed in his rather impressive phantom of the opera costume, has been attracting a small crowd. He sits on the couch telling scary stories with the others around him. The look of both a composed storyteller and eager listener paints his handsome face even with the mask covering half his face.

Your eyes continue their search among the party.

Along the stretch of the wall lined with grand windows stands an ink blot like figure.

The apartment’s dim soft lighting mixes with the fun colorful lights strung up. Strange shadows fall among the space and at times you’ve caught it playing tricks on your eyes.

Except you clearly can focus on the striking presence across from you.

The stranger wears an all black cloak that makes them stick out against the windows.

And they wear a ghost face mask that completely obstructs any hope of discovering who this is.

The mask stares out so blankly and it’s a bit unnerving.

People chat unphased. A small group even starts an impromptu dance circle at the new upbeat pop song playing. Everyone exists unaware, or possibly uncaring, at the strange presence of the ghost face.

Yet this person stands so still. The mask also seems to be staring directly at you.

It could be someone needing a small break from the party the same way you lingered in the kitchen alone.

Then ghost face lifts a gloved finger up to the mask’s lips.

Shh…

A strange flutter you can’t fully describe rises in your gut. You simply brush off the action as someone being funny.

You now leave the kitchen to fully hunt for your missing boyfriend.

“Have you seen Gojo?” You ask around but the answers are all the same.

“Nope!” Haibara’s bright response comes with an unworried smile.

“No thank goodness,” the same answer comes from both Nanami and Utahime.

“Maybe he turned into a bat and flew away.” Geto, ever the teasing jokester, has you rolling your eyes.

Shoko jokingly even says “who?” when you ask her.

Now you think your boyfriend has decided to be childish and hide in the bathrooms or closet. Because who else would try to be funny and run away during a party but Gojo.

Shoko, with a carefree wave, grants you free range to explore her place.

You’ve been here plenty of times, but now with so many people in the space an annoyed edge bubbles in you. You want to go home. Now you’re having to peek around hoping to spot your ridiculous boyfriend. And there are no signs of him.

Annoyed and frustrated you snag your phone to simply message him.

[Where are you?!]

It takes a moment, but a message comes in from ‘My Bestest Most Handsome Boyfriend Ever.’

Said boyfriend simply replies with one lone emoji.

[🤫]

Another message rushes in. It again is nothing but emojis.

[🤭😘]

Simmering annoyance doubles, tempting to turn into frustration, and you rapidly message him back.

[Satoru I wanna go home and if you keep up this up I’m leaving you]

You’d call a ride or see if someone can take you back. You would leave him here.

A notification chime comes.

[let’s play a game baby 🤍]

[oh so me trying to find your ridiculous ass around Shoko’s apartment isn’t a game?]

[so rude!]

[but maybe it is 😜]

You call his phone. It goes straight to voicemail and you want to scream.

You angrily type out another message and hit send.

[fine whatever, you do whatever you want I’ll see you at home]

His reply rushes in surprisingly fast.

[head home angel, I’ll see you when I get there 🤍]

Now that sparks a strange curious peak in you.

But still so annoyed you angrily close your messages. You’re about to head out of the corner of the hallway you’ve been hanging out in.

So deep in your thoughts, you take one step and run into someone -

The ghost face stranger.

You thankfully don’t collide into him. However, your step falters seeing how close the person is to you.

The black robed body fully faces you, their back to the party, as they stand so direct.

“Oh, uh excuse me.” You mutter and avert your eyes worried as you slide past the stranger.

Not a sound comes, not even a reply. The chilling silence, the looming presence, the dark shadow blocking out the light, it feels like you’re trying to tiptoe past something dangerous.

Out of the hallway you check your phone again.

Still nothing from Gojo.

“Fine, stay here.” You huff out loud thinking maybe he’ll hear you.

A soft whisper of your boyfriend’s voice comes.

“…Baby…”

It cuts through the party even on the gentle breeze you heard it. Quickly you look around, but nothing. Still no sign of Satoru. You glance over your shoulder to check behind you.

Instead of being at the previous spot in the highway, ghost face now peers out from the edge of the hallway's entrance.

The plastic hollow mask continues staring so directly at you that a strange unsettled alarm twists your stomach.

It couldn’t be….

But then again…

You shake away curious and cloudy thoughts wanting to form. Turning on your heels you rush to Shoko’s side and announce you’re going to head out.

Nanami, like a true golden knight he should’ve dressed as, offers to drive you home. Haibara happily decides to tag along. Before you head out, a message alert rings from your phone.

[Come find me downstairs!]

You groan. Of course he managed to slip away from the apartment entirely.

“Sorry guys. I’ll meet you two down in the garage. I think I know where my idiot ran off too.” You sigh and thankfully Nanami understands with his saintly patience.

As you slip into the hallway, the noise of the party fades into a muted soft hum.

After navigating Shoko’s labyrinth-like apartment building you arrive at the main floor downstairs. And of course, your boyfriend again is nowhere to be found. In fact, the beautiful sleek modern lobby is vacant. Normally someone sits at the front desk that is currently empty. In the dark evening, the quiet lurks with an unsettling hollowness.

So you quickly message Gojo.

[where are you??]

No response.

You should’ve known this was going to happen.

The eerie silence, the lack of commotion in this normally occupied space, a strange anxiety swarms in your chest. It drains out the annoyance you had for your boyfriend because now, you just want to leave.

Not wanting to stay here anymore you simply head to the elevator and press the button for the garage.

Footsteps echo behind you and you turn.

Behind you is the ghost face stranger.

Standing so terrifyingly still a chill runs up your back as if you’re staring down an actual ghost, trying to process if this being is real or not. The hollowed out eyes, the deep morphed wide frown, all of it intensifies against the pristine lobby.

Then ghost face tilts their head. The small movement seems so innocent, curious even.

The elevator dings its arrival. Hesitantly you step into the lift while trying to keep your eyes on the stranger.

Once fully inside, a moment of pause comes. It again is just you and the mysterious figure staring at the other.

Suddenly, as if possessed, ghost face runs straight towards you.

Fear rips into you visceral and dizzying. You choke on a scream. Faster and faster he approaches. You shakily scramble to slam on the button to close the elevator doors.

The black robed stranger races closer.

The doors start closing. An arm outstretches hopeful to stop the elevator and terror sinks its fangs into you.

The doors however shut fast.

You’re left staring at the white masks unflinching. The doors fully shut and you watch ghost face disappear out of sight.

The elevator ride is quiet, but your loud heartbeat drums rapidly in your ears. The taste of fear in your mouth has you wondering if you unknowingly transformed into a small creature fleeing from a monster in the woods.

You exhale slowly trying to steady yourself.

The garage thankfully arrives quickly and Nanami and Haibara already wait for you there.

“Are you alright? You seem shaken up.” Nanami notices you with keen eyes.

“Yeah!” You lie as truthfully as you can, even summoning a smile to add to it. “Just feeling a little under the weather now. So I’m just ready to get home.”

That appeases Nanami and the three of you head out.

“So did you find where Gojo went!?”

“No.” You sigh, answering Haibara’s bright question.

“I’m sure he just got called away somewhere and forget to tell you!” He positively suggests.

“Or he’s just playing a trick on me thinking he’s being cute when he’s actually just being a headache.” Your dull annoyed comment has Nanami snorting amused and it warms you.

It helps as a chill air breathes into the dark evening. Softly, a distant rumble of thunder comes. A storm approaches. As you head up to the apartment you already happily think of cozy blankets to end the night.

“Satoru!” You call out.

Silence greets you. So much for meeting you at home.

You start the search again. The bathroom, the extra guest bedroom and even the guest bathroom are all once again Gojo-less. You even check underneath the bed and feel silly when you open up the laundry hamper thinking he could have squeezed himself in there as a prank.

But you realize you would’ve at least heard ridiculous giggling at this point. So, you give up.

Ready to turn in for the night you exhaustedly slip out of your costume and into cozier clothes.

You also decide to try calling your dumb boyfriend again. You left your phone charging in the kitchen and head back to grab it.

A flash of lightning comes, a bright surprise illumination dancing from the window. It draws your attention away for a split moment.

You turn and now before you the ghost face masked stranger stands in your kitchen.

Terror seizes you and you freeze in its grasp.

Ghost face’s presence in your warmly light kitchen reminds you of someone taking a sharpie and placing a solid swipe against a scenic painting. It is a terrifying distortion.

“Satoru.” You snap even though your voice wavers.

The masked stranger shakes their head.

No.

“Sorry doll,” You don’t recognize the voice replying to you. It’s deep warped and distorted. Plus your boyfriend never once called you that - doll.

“Don’t know who this Satoru guy is, but he’s lucky gettin’ to come home to you.” The deep and static like masculine voice purrs.

Your heart drops into your stomach

Now truly staring at the cloaked intruder, you realize how large ghost face is. His broad shoulders fill out the space and he radiates an imposing looming force.

Your eyes stay focused on him but you realize if you move fast, you could maybe reach your phone charging.

So you bolt with all your might.

But the masked man is faster.

In two rapid steps he stops you. With a gloved hand the stranger yanks you into his hold. A scream almost escapes you. But it’s knocked out when ghost face curls around you from behind.

A strong sturdy arm wraps itself across your chest.

“Now now doll,” the intruder tsks light. “And here I thought we could play a lil’ game.”

The gleam of the knife comes first from the corner of your eye. Then, the pointed tip starts running up the side of your body with a delicate leisure ease.

Your eyes go wide as the large kitchen knife effortlessly tracing up a path closer to you. It drags across your clothes, slow and unbothered in its pace.

“You know,” ghost face muses. “You really are a cute one.”

A twinkling glee leaks into the distorted voice.

“Let’s play that game I mentioned, yeah?” He continues.

Your throat goes dry as the knife now drags easily up your chest closer to your face.

“I’m a big fan of hide and seek.” The masked man purrs.

The solid arm that was across your chest now slides up allowing his gloved hand to softly curl around your neck. There is no pressure, just the simple chilling sensation of his presence against your skin. It’s a reminder that at any moment he could tighten his hand on your throat.

“You’re just so cute that I wanna chase ya and keep you forever.” His voice manages to drop deeper, entrenched in something dreadfully haunting.

“I’ll give you five minutes to go run and hide,” he whispers softer and deeper. The white plastic of the mask gingerly scrapes against your face. Your body coils a tense knot of emotions you can’t even seem to sort through.

“And then, I’ll go and find you.” His voice oozes out a rich low confidence.

Then cool metal presses against your cheek. Your eyes snap down and find a knife lying flat against your face. Your heart trips over in itself.

Confused panic now clashes with something dangerously dark you dare not name. It only worsens when a gloved thumb strokes your throat soft, reverently, and a heat licks up your body.

“Get to hidin’ doll… run.” Ghost face whispers.

Then he violently rips himself away from your body and like being unleashed from a cage you bolt.

You don’t even turn around to look at the masked man. Instead you dash further into the apartment.

Your first thought is to crawl under one of the beds. But your heart pounds so fast that any true proper thoughts get scrambled.

All you can think of is the closet, the large walk-in closet you share with Satoru.

Rapidly you rush inside it. You wonder if you should hide standing up along your boyfriend's large amount of tall clothes that could possibly hide you.

Until you spot it - a wonderful carved out space you can crouch in.

Once you wiggle your way in you try settling into the space. Breathing slowly in and out you try to gather yourself together. The length of Satoru’s clothes you hope will work as a cover or even a makeshift barrier to hide you.

Safe within the smell of the cologne lingering on your boyfriend’s clothes, you close your eyes to settle yourself down even more.

You sit in the silence. Tension crawls on your skin.

Time begins feeling sticky and the minutes seem to all glue together. You don’t know how long you’ve been in here or how long you will be.

Then heavy boots slowly march into the bedroom.

Your eyes snap open. The footsteps are leisurely, imposing. Your heart jolts hearing every step.

A slow dread that has been spilling into you like an hourglass now shatters as the footsteps draw closer to the door. Out of panic you can’t help but move your hands over your nose and mouth to keep quiet.

The door creaks open and your heart stops.

Your body tenses up at the sight of the black thick boats stomping into the closet.

Then the light of the closet flickers on illuminating the space.

“You in here, pretty?” the masked man calls out.

The air in the room evaporates as you stay as quiet as you can.

From the way his boots shuffle he seems to be glancing among the hanging clothes trying to find you in the space you thought of hiding in earlier.

A sigh comes from your masked intruder, soft and defeated almost.

He starts walking out of the closet. You rationalize that he must already be bored of trying to find you here. A small dosage of relief fills your body. Your eyes even shut close again as you exhale.

You take a moment to gather yourself in your sheltered space.

Simply breathing in and out, your hands stay against your face to keep you quiet.

Wearily you open your eyes.

Ghost face now kneels before you and peeks at you through the dangling clothes.

You’re thankful your hands still clutch over your face because you let out a small squeak of a scream.

His gloved waves at you gently and teasingly.

Before you can move, before you can even stand up, firm hands dart out. Ghost face grabs your ankle and drags you out of your little hidden cave.

Your body slides out with such ease, without any hesitation. You can’t even process how fast it happens. All you can do is stare up at the looming man above you staring down with the hollowed out soulless eyes.

His entire frame, large and imposing, blocks most of the light from the closet. It bathes him in a hauntingly eerie superposition of a black stain against a sun.

“Hi there doll,” He coo’s. “Knew you couldn’t escape from me.”

His gloved hand reaches out and holds your face firm.

The knife’s sharp edge drags up your body, a slow and casual pace. Your heart crawls into your throat as you lie beneath the power of this haunting force.

It’s simply you and him.

And then the ghost face mask man suddenly giggles.

It’s a playful giggle you know so well that not even the voice distortion can hide it.

It’s the one you hear whenever you trip over your own shoes, or when your boyfriend happily steals your fries…

“Satoru.” You breathe out steadier than you expected. A range of emotions tingles all over your body.

“No.” The voice replies but there's a twinkle in the tone now. “It’s me…scary ghost face man!”

“Satoru.” You repeat firmer.

“Who’s that? Is that your boyfriend? He sounds hot.”

You roll your eyes and are about to sit up when ghost face instead sits back releasing his firm grip on you.

The hand previously on your face moves to the mask and lifts it up.

Even before the rest of his face is revealed you spy the widest toothy smile ever. The mask completely slides up and now shining blue skies stare at you.

The eyeliner he put on earlier for his vampire costume is now a smudged mess from the heat of the mask. It paints him in a grunge like appearance that unfortunately for you looks devilishly hot on him

Still, you can’t help but pout at him.

“You should’ve set a timer. I don’t think you waited a full five minutes to let me hide.” You challenge as you start taking off his gloves.

“Yes I did! I even went and took a few selfies on your phone to let the time run!” Satoru challenges back pouting.

Of course he took pictures.

You can’t help but snort. However as you slide off the thick black gloves, your eyes gloss over a bit. The high, the adrenaline, the fantasy, is fizzling away.

Before you can even say anything, Gojo cries a dramatic sob. He flops down to lie completely on top of you.

“Satoru!” You wheeze as he clutches onto you like a childish koala.

Dramatically loud, Satoru wails your name. He rubs his sweaty face against yours. Yet, his bare hands hold you so delicate.

“Are you okay?” Your boyfriend gently asks genuine, low and cautious as if someone else can hear him.

You nod on an exhale. Your body strangely enough feels comforted with the weight of your protector against you.

Your face turns to burrow against his. The scent of his skin, the soft warmth he constantly radiates, all become a lifeline guiding you back.

The sensation running through your body reminds you of walking out of a haunted house attraction or even finishing an intense scary film. Those types of experiences become a way of facing terror as something fleeting, giving you a moment of fear without truly being in actual danger. It’s why you had even jokingly suggested this play in the first place.

Satoru and you had been costume shopping when he first tried to jump out and scare you. Instead he wore a ridiculous deformed bunny mask.

You simply stared at him bored and told him how ridiculous he looked.

“Aw! Where's your Halloween spirit babe?!” He cried.

You shrugged then went back to glancing at the adorable witch costumes.

“Maybe if it was another mask I saw you chasing me in I’d get scared.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice dipped in an intrigued low purr. “You want me to chase you around?”

“Satoru!” You had hissed in embarrassment and even swatted at him.

Gojo leaned down closer making sure nobody heard him as he whispered to you.

“It’s okay, angel. I kinda wanna chase you around too.”

The true serious conversation that occurred at home after that shopping trip led to this exact moment and you still can’t believe it.

Earlier in the week Satoru had coyly suggested wearing the ghost face costume instead of his vampire one. You had playfully shrugged and didn’t think he was serious.

But of course, you shouldn’t be surprised at anything your boyfriend does any more.

“I still can’t believe you managed to change at the party without me even knowing.” You comment.

“Oh that was easy! I just used Shoko’s private bathroom. I even told her to play along if you came looking for me. She also called us sexy freaks.” Gojo happily chirps, a bit proud, and your face heats up so fast you want to claw it off.

You could never look at Shoko again for the rest of your life, but you would manage.

Satoru shifts now to slide you better into his arms as he maneuvers to rest on the floor beside you.

You and him clutch each other warm and tight.

“As fun and hot as this was…I don’t like seeing you look genuinely scared.” He mutters softly against your forehead.

“You had been doing so good and looked so brave. I felt proud. But when I got you in here, you really did look so spooked.” Gojo continues. His voice trails into a soft tone you’ve learned is reserved only for you.

You had been scared, got caught up in the atmosphere.

“You just did your job a little too well.” You joke with a dry chuckle.

“Obviously.” Gojo scoffs. “Did you expect anything less?”

He really is a terror in his own way and you playfully pinch his side.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get too scary. If you did, I would've had to call my strong sorcerer boyfriend to beat you up.” You tease.

“Oh? Your strong sorcerer boyfriend? Are you sure he isn’t the strongest?” Gojo muses bright.

“Not really.” You grin.

He scoffs.

“You might as well have just taken the knife and stabbed me with it because your words have injured me!”

“Heal yourself then mister strongest sorcerer .” You deadpan.

Playfully Gojo lightly bites your cheek.

“But are you okay… Really?” His tone holds a tenderness and undertone of worry.

“I am, I promise.” You squeeze him firm and tight, even begin rubbing your hand against his shoulder.

“Are you feeling okay?” You ask firmer now.

Gojo nods, snuggling his face closer to you.

There on the floor, you and Satoru decompress. You find it comforting. After such a high adrenaline play, simply resting with him on the floor feels as if you are easing back into your skin. It’s the solidity of reality settling.

“Wait, how did you manage to change your voice?” You perk up curious.

Satoru happily whips out a simple handheld voice changer.

“I wanted to go all out.” He proudly explains with a beaming grin.

“Please tell me you didn’t use a real knife, did you?”

“Of course not!” Gojo shrieks insulted. “I bought a real fancy prop one online when I ordered my fangs!”

For some reason the thought of him spending money on an expensive movie like type prop makes you almost squawk in horror.

Satoru even playfully stabs your side with the fake knife. The poke comes hard but does nothing and you swat at him annoyed now. He snickers gleefully, a devilish gremlin.

His large calloused hand slides up your face. It kicks you out of your thoughts and your attention flickers back to Satoru.

Your boyfriend stares down at you with an interesting gleam in his eyes. His oceanic eyes are like that of a hunter gazing at its prey with a collected composure trying not to jump and consume.

On top of his cloud hair the ghost face mask still sits.

Satoru Gojo leans above you a beautiful terror of a sight. The gleam from the closet’s light illuminates a faint halo-like glow around him. It also electrifies his bright blue eyes. The black kohl liner now even makes them stand out even more.

The dormant arousal that had simmered earlier now reawakens raw in your body as warmth trickles across your skin. Your eyes even haze over as they stare at his soft lips.

Before you can even say anything, Satoru sweeps down fast and low. A creature striking fast, he captures your lips with his.

His tongue without hesitation licks into your mouth with a devastating dizziness. You clutch onto him tight and desperate. He’s kissing you like you will fade away at any moment, or like he’s enjoying his reward.

His lips chase after yours so messily, sloppily and without any finesse. Teeth click and even spit seems to slip more and more around your mouth.

Suddenly he starts licking at the spit that’s coated your lips and corner of your cheek. He seems possessed as he simply licks at you without any care. Gojo slides his tongue down to your jaw and tastes the salt of your skin.

He nips and bites softly at every inch of you he can reach. You’re reminded of a beast trying to consume with a feral want. A prickling heat now scourches across your body.

Caught up in that same frenzy Satoru kisses down your body over your clothes until he reaches your shorts.

Wearily you open your eyes to glance down at him.

Between your legs is a sight that melts your brain. With his holy angelic eyes, electrified and blown out, along with the terrifying ghost face mask on his cloud head, Satoru is a blissful frightening sight.

He breathes out your name, a ghostly whisper.

Cerulean eyes are now bottomless oceans as he kisses your core over your shorts repeatedly. You whine breathless and desperate, wanting him closer. Glancing down, you see Satoru once more stares up at you with a devouring hunger that has your eyes closing overwhelmed.

He fucks you there in the closet. The taste of it is wild, a frantic claim.

You and him end up entangled with each other, sticky and exhausted still on the floor. The clothes hanging above create a soft canopy.

Satoru’s fingers run up your arm tender while you rest in his arms.

“Who knew the ghost face mask was gonna do that for us huh? Guess Shoko was right. This really means we’re really a pair of certified hot freaks now.”

You screech a horrified sound and want to pummel your annoying boyfriend.

“What!? This is hot as hell baby!” Gojo argues back proudly, almost smug, and it only makes you angrily wiggle away from him.

Of course he keeps you firmly captured in his strong hold and doesn’t budge an inch.

“What if we try this again but with another mask?” Satoru asks dreamily.

“You’re already a clown, you don’t need another mask.” You reply.

“BABY!?” He sobs out absolutely horrified and dramatically hurt. You laugh and curl tight against this stronghold of a man.

“You wound me! I absolutely for sure have internal bleeding right now!” He continues sobbing while he burrows his face against the top of your head.

Being on the floor for so long starts aching so you slowly sit up. Gentle warm hands begin rubbing your back while you stretch. Glancing around at all the discarded clothing littering the floor, you spot the ghost face mask. In the heat of the moment your fingers had carded through Satoru’s soft hair and the mask slipped off.

It so innocently yet hauntingly stares out with those vacant hollow void eyes. A strange urge crawls up your neck and sinks its fangs into you. Grabbing it you turn back to Satoru who stares up at you with a dreamy softness.

“Oh?” He catches the sight of the mask and sits up. His curiosity sparks awake playful and fast. “What do you have in mind?”

You softly shush him and gently slide the mask over him.

With it completely covering his face, knowing fully it’s him and not having to pretend, does break the illusion.

However, it cracks open something new that is dangerously raw and hungry.

Your thumb strokes the side of his face where the soft latex of the mask covers his cheek.

Leaning forward you kiss him over the mask. You taste the annoying synthetic fabric of the mask. Yet a wild heat comes when you feel his lips through the fabric. Satoru’s hands slowly run up to your shoulders to hold you as you kiss him through the fabric.

It ignites a delirious frustration that feels so good. His mouth desperately tries to feel you against the fabric that quickly starts to get wet.

Another raw idea flashes in your mind. Softly you pull away from his lips. You think of Gojo and how his tongue claimed you in a flurry.

So with a soft tentative kitten like attempt, you lick at his lips through the mask.

Something wild unleashes itself in Satoru. He rapidly sweeps you into his arms with his godly strength and simply lifts you up from the floor. His lips moan against yours.

“Keeping this on.” Gojo slurs as he rapidly moves you and him towards the bed.

You shake your head rapidly agreeing. The plush bed hits your back.

Above you, once again the ink stain presence of ghost face stares down at you. Your fingers do ache to run into his hair, across his delicious undercut. But those simple aches are crushed against the clear sight of your Satoru as ghost face. You vividly see Satoru’s broad shoulders, feel the touch of his bare hands caressing your thighs so intently.

“I caught you fair and square, my sweet little treat.” Now it’s his voice, unmodulated and clear as crystal, cooing triumphant underneath the mask.

“Now… I think I wanna unwrap you again.” Gojo whispers and it slices under your skin deliciously.

Beautiful debauched arousal rapidly consumes you as you claw at him wanting him closer.

“You like knowing it’s me under here, baby?” Satoru continues. His fingers begin kneading into your soft thighs, anchoring himself to your body.

His long fingers softly swipe into the slick arousal pooling between your legs and a whimper flutters out of you.

“Me too.” Gojo whispers, almost admitting with a quiet glee.

“I like knowing I'm under here getting to chase you, knowing I’ll always catch you and have you all to myself.”

Pulling his fingers out, they shine coated in your wetness. He slips them under the mask. Suddenly the sound of him sucking fills the room and your mind melts even more.

Satoru groans, drunk on pleasure. Even with the mask hiding his face it somehow heightens the moment and you claw at his arm firmer.

Taking the hint, Gojo slides fully between your legs to draw closer to you. He now takes the fingers in his mouth to slide them into yours.

Your eyes close and roll back. You suck on his wet fingers covered in his spit and the faint linger of your arousal. He begins grinding against you and you moan needed more of him all over again.

It's delicious and dark, this beautiful cobweb of desire you and Satoru are caught in.

“That’s it, angel. Let’s keep enjoying our fun little fright night, yeah?” Your ghost face lover purrs and as you sink into lust’s heavenly darkness, you find you couldn’t agree more.

#I am posting this and fleeing into a pit I’m sorry 😭🤡 #also I made the banner myself and am kinda proud 🥹 okay that’s all BYE #Gojo 🩵 #ghost face!gojo #Gojo x reader #Willow’s Haunted House Collab

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Red Dead Redemption 2 College AU !

I'm ignoring reqs for a bit to indulge in my own thoughts and ideas and write some hcs for my college au on what i think their majors/lives as students/professors would be like, ahem... Long post ahead. Also this isn't too well thought out as of now, just wrote down some fun thoughts. Plz tell me your own headcannons

Arthur Morgan - Fine Arts

THE MOST UNEXPECTED MAJOR FOR A GUY LIKE HIM. He's the guy who's seen around campus wearing leather jackets, riding his motorcycle, brooding over a cup of coffee while he stares off aimlessly into the sky. So imagine him walking into your visual arts class with some of the most beautiful drawings you've ever seen. Has his own apartment near campus and his roommate is Charles. Entire place is littered with sketches and art supplies and billions of projects. His hands are constantly stained with charcoal. Takes his major VERY seriously, he don't play about his drawings and paintings. Works at a college bar and constantly comes home with a new story. Frequently visits John and the others after joining the frat, especially when they have parties. Never misses out on those. Became friends with Lenny through these parties.

John Marston - Civil Engineering

Probably one of the most miserable engineering majors you'll ever see. And that's only because he doesn't stress out over his work and procrastinates like he hasn't a care in the world; seemingly forgets he's in college. That is until the deadline is 11:59 PM that night and he has to cram two weeks worth of assignments into one night. Complains about heart palpitations when the area surrounding his desk is littered with energy cans. Joined a fraternity as soon as possible and lives in the housing. Party animal, drinks on weekdays with Sean and Javier. Throws absolute ragers on the weekends. Is the guy to yell "IF YOU'RE NOT PART OF THIS FRAT, THEN GET THE FUCK OUT" before turning to you and asking if you had fun. Has missed his 9 AM several times because he either slept in or is hung over. Was probably community dick for a while. Works at McDonald's part time, people genuinely don't know how he handles the stress. 60% of his paycheck goes to liquor/alcohol.

Javier Escuella - Music Theory

PASSIONATE about his major. HE DON'T PLAY ABOUT HIS MUSIC. But I can totally see him as the type of dude to sit around on the campus lawn with a guitar as a group of girls surrounds him and listens to him play. Is in the frat with John and lives in it as well. Also plays his guitar at parties with girls surrounding him, starkly contrasting the EDM and house music in the background. Shows up to class regardless of hangovers, he is very serious about his education. As serious as he is about partying. Shows up to class fitted every single time. Probably has outfit changes between classes. Type of guy to have his fits laid out next to his bed. He does the most. Was also probably community dick. Works as a cook at a restaurant, constantly flirts with you there. Gets all giddy in the kitchen with his coworkers when he manages to make you giggle.

Charles Smith - Anthropology

It's him and his laptop against the world. He's super neat, everything in one place. Any papers he gets are all neatly kept away and categorized per class. Is hard at work on writing an ethnography and is frequently out and about for observations. If he's not out then he's at home working on assignments. Also a frat member but like I said, rooms with Arthur. Has gained the quiet serious type reputation in class but once you start talking to him discover he's very friendly and nice. Probably works on campus as a student ambassador. Is very involved with school and activities; runs an enviornmental sciences club. Dedicates several hours a night to studying/working on assignments. Amazing student all around. The way he has his life together is enviable.

Kieran Duffy - Equine Studies

LITERALLY PERFECT MAJOR FOR HIM. Literally the happiest student around, his classroom is the stables. Works at the stables as well. Just spends 99% of his time at the stables so catching him outside of there is nearly impossible. Gossips to the horses and tells them about his day. I feel like he'd fall behind in his other studies though because he'd be way too focused on the horses. Typical, struggling student. Joined a frat out of pressure, got the WORST of the hazing. I don't even want to begin to imagine what the rituals were like. Probably gets black out drunk at frat parties, ends up on the front lawn and wakes up half naked every weekend somehow.

Sean Macguire - Business Administration

He's just insufferable like that. Whenever people shit on his major he just finds a thousand bullshit reasons as to why his major is better and more lucrative. Complains to John how hard his homework is and when John asks to see his screen it's addition with pictures. Probably went to college to party and realized "oh shit I actually gotta do school". Googled the highest paying and easiest majors and chose it like that. Puts more thought into what beer he's going to buy at the liquor store than his studies. Hotboxes his car 24/7. His room REEKS of weed and so does he. Attempts to disguise it with ax body spray. Will always ask you if you want to wake and bake; regardless of if you do or don't accept he's showing up to class high and with sunglasses. Goes nonverbal when he greens out. Works at McDonald's with John, is constantly late and is warned he might get fired but never does. Just fucks around in the back. I can imagine he and Karen are constantly on and off but when they're off he brings a new girl home to the frat every night.

Lenny Summers - Literature Major

Joined the frat because he thought he'd make good connections (LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER). One of the youngest pledges, went easier on him with the hazing. He's incredibly focused on his studies. You'd be surprised to find out he's a party animal as well because he's constantly reading a book in his free time. Definitely joined a book club with Mary-Beth and is taking Dutch's English class. Works on campus as well as the library; prides himself on his work and education. I believe he'd dorm because there's no way he's living in that filthy frat. Super organized dorm. Became really good friends with Arthur during one of the parties, also became close with Sean. Frequently gets driven around by Sean and gets second hand high from being in his car.

Bill Williamson - Army

Out of everyone he went to the army instead of college. But he definitely still hangs with the frat when he can simply because he's friends with a few of them. Frequently buys them liquor and supplies it to the younger members. Asks them how their classes are going and ends up falling into a rabbit hole where he's learning about infrastructure planning or astrophysics and tries his hand at doing their homework for them. It goes terribly. Drives a beat up pickup truck and you can hear that mf coming down the road 3 blocks away. Subtly tries (and fails) at flirting with some of the frat members.

Micah Bell - Criminal Law Major

Insufferable. Need I say more. Very money centric. Definitely thinks he's better than you because he's a law student. Kisses the professors’ ass all the time. Joins study groups and acts as if he's the smartest one there, tries to lead conversations, and views it as a challenge if anyone says differently than him during said discussions. He probably has an internship at a firm. Oh my god I can just imagine how sleazy he is. Also part of the frat and several of the members do not like him. Harasses the girls that show up. I can see him cutting off people during class or talking over them. Type of guy to say "not to be devil's advocate, but..."

Pearson - Culinary Degree

Came back to school to get his culinary degree. Mostly keeps to himself but has become acquainted with a few people and is actually decent friends with some. Pretty serious about his studies but is also chill, you can just tell he's extremely passionate about what he does. Excuses himself from hangouts by saying "sorry I got a pie due at 3." Loves it when he's able to sell some of his products back to students/general public and see how people react. Dreams of opening his own restaurant so he takes the accounting/marketing aspects of his degree very seriously.

Abigail Roberts - Education Major

I CAN JUST SEE IT YK. I can totally see her being a teacher, and she's super hardworking. I feel like her schedule is jam packed so she hardly ever has time for fun. Studies, does homework, student teaching, and takes care of herself and her son. So yeah imagine how busy she is all the time. Occasionally leaves Jack with his grandparents for a night of fun but that is few and far in between. Joined a sorority for support but wouldn't live in the house. Lives in the same complex as Arthur and they get along, sometimes he offers to babysit Jack. Drops off food for her when she's real busy with her studies. NEVER late to class. And besides handling ALL THIS, she'd work as a waitress at a restaurant by campus. Talk about hard working.

Sadie Adler - Agricultural Sciences

Definitely moved to live on campus from a rural town to pursue her degree. Joined the sorority early on but dorms. Suffered a breakup and found solace in the community the girls provided. Works at a local supermarket and volunteers at a community garden nearby. Her dorm is full of potted plants. Became really good friends with Arthur through Abigail, who has her over at times. I feel like she'd be asked on dates frequently but she always turns em down because she's still struggling to accept her breakup. I'm not making it a death because this AU isn't that BRUTAL. Argues with the boys often. Pearson frequents the supermarket she works at and she always makes a comment on the strange ingredients he buys. Thus leading to a weird tense air between them that they never directly address. Enjoys her coursework and never falls behind. She's on top of that shit. Also very outspoken in class.

Karen Jones - Biological Sciences

PREMED BABYYYY. On the path to becoming a nurse. She procrastinates a lot, is often late to class, BEGS her professors for extensions. Truth is she's a party girl and she will NEVER give up that party life. Constantly at several different frat parties, gets black out drunk on Saturdays, and on Sundays she's studying for her bio exam on Monday. Complains to her sorority sisters about boys, particularly Sean, to the point where they all HATE any man she gets involved with. And the next time they see Sean in public they're all glaring DAGGERS at him. Parties aside she does her work even if she puts it off... Her grades are decent, definitely passing, but everyone tells her she's gonna need to do better if she wants to go to med school. I can see her working at a retail store like Walgreens. Most miserable cashier you'll ever see. Probably lets you walk out with your items for free if she's particularly pissed off at work that day.

Tilly Jackson - Physics Major

SHE IS A SMART GIRL. One of the most hardworking on this list. Her grades are top notch and she don't play about studying. I can see her offering tutoring for math and even getting paid for it. She is not one to be underestimated when it comes to her academic abilities. Occasionally parties (aka gets dragged along by Karen) and enjoys herself, but I can't see her being a major party animal. Offers Karen lots of advice as well as helping the girls with math assignments when they need it. Joins study groups as well as math clubs. Works at a cafe on campus where Mary-Beth and Lenny visit her occasionally. Generally well organized. Has her shit together.

Mary-Beth Gaskill - Literature Major

ALWAYS has her nose in a book. Becomes extremely engaged in class discussions and has probably read every single book required for the semester already. Works at a bookstore and frequents the campus library. Is on the chiller side of partying but still accompanies the girls. She's very reserved but can be quite friendly. Writes fanfiction in the back of class while her professors think she's just passionately writing a report. Always gets extensions from Dutch, always. Even when she doesn't need em. I can see her reading a lot of philosophy books. Also an Otessa Moshfegh fan. Colleen Hoover is her guilty pleasure. Runs a blog about the books she reads. I can also imagine her being part of the school paper. Real close with Lenny as well, often hangs out with him at the cafe Tilly works at.

Molly O'Shea - Cosmetology

Shows up to her 8 AM with a BEAT face. Full face of makeup, decked head to toe in designer: designer purse where she keeps her macbook, designer shoes, outfit, accessories, etc. Probably wears brands you've never even heard of. Has a crush on Dutch, only reason she has perfect attendance in his class. Has a grudge towards Mary-Beth. Dorms for sure, even though she'd be able to afford housing nearby. The only times she's at the dorm is in the morning getting ready for class or at night to sleep. Hardly talks to her roommate either, not even a hey. Gained the stuck up rich girl reputation from her peers. Seen at cafes in between classes and is always alone. Is out of town and has been struggling to make friends. Lots of guys ask her out on dates and she only accepts when she's bored and wants a free meal. WILL make y'all go to a steakhouse, WILL order the most expensive thing on the menu.

Dutch Van Der Linde - English/Philosophy Professor

This guy definitely speaks about philosophy with a PASSION. His class is very engaging, though I do believe he'd play favorites with a few female students... This goes for both classes. Constant open ended discussions. Type of professor to ask you "but what do the blue curtains mean...?" Hardass with assignments unless you're one of those favored female students. No late assignments with him ever. You either turn it in at the deadline or you don't ever. I feel like he'd forget to take attendance frequently despite being a hardass about that too. Probably the type of professor that tries to integrate himself with the student body and try to fit in. Mildly successful.

Hosea Matthews - Theatre Professor

THE SWEETEST, KINDEST, MOST COMPASSIONATE PROFESSOR. ALWAYS excuses late assignments and very lenient, will not deduce points. His class is very fun and engaging as well! Does what Dutch tries to do and makes genuine connections with his students while keeping it professional. Tells his students they can always talk to him and come for advice. Frequently has lunch with Dutch and Susan and talks up just how great his classes are. Frequents the library and local bookstores; also goes to the cafe Tilly works at. I also feel like a lot of his relationships would have a fatherly air around them, like he's a second dad for a few of the students (we know who...).

Leopold Strauss - Business Professor

YOU CANNOT TELL ME HE WOULDN'T UGH. Probably a super boring class I'm not gonna lie. His accent would probably make it hard for some students to understand what he's saying, not to mention he probably speaks super softly and not loud enough for everyone to hear. He should've retired by now but he refuses to. There is no syllabus week with him, you got homework on the first day. But it's probably not even hard c'mon. Sean is probably the most lively thing about his class, but he's definitely falling asleep in there frequently. Always late to his own class, doesn't even say why, just gets into lecturing. NEVER seen without a cup of coffee. Sometimes there will be long moments of silence between lectures as he tries to figure out the technology. Falls asleep in his car after class.

Orville Swanson - Theology Professor

Also a super chill professor. He's probably super open to his classes about his struggles. He's able to facilitate well structured discussions and keep things civilized amongst his students. I feel like it could get boring because it's mostly lectures and slide shows but he'd still find a way to keep his students engaged, especially on discussions. I feel like he'd also be lenient about assignments, but his assignments would be rather large. Back to back papers. Type of professor to say hi to you in the halls or outside of campus and ask about your day. 10/10 guy.

Uncle - Biology Professor

How is he still working here. HOW hasn't he retired. WHY hasn't he retired. SOMEONE PLEASE make him retire. There are pros and cons. You will learn NOTHING in his class, so if you're unfortunate enough to land his class you better drop that shit as soon as possible. If you for some reason stay, you must be some sort of masochist. Probably has the best stories. As soon as you think he's about to start lecturing he goes on a tangent about a story that happened to him the other day. He has weekly tests and you might as well teach yourself the material because his ass definitely isn't doing it. Also has plenty of labs so he can leave you all to your own devices amongst each other while he sits at his desk and does who knows what. You can probably find him sleeping in a student lounge at any time of the day. Also the frat guys have definitely run into him at the liquor store.

Susan Grimshaw - History Professor/Sorority Mother

She's hard on you but only because she cares. Isn't very lenient when it comes to assignments but she's involved with her students. If she sees you struggling she'll pull you aside and ask what's up and figure out a plan to help you out in her class. Likes to remind her students she isn't their mommy but has a very motherly air surrounding her. And she is VERY on top of her girls. As a sorority mother, she makes sure they eat well, stay on top of studies, and deals with parents. Encourages the girls to keep up the general cleanliness of the house and tells them to work as a unit. Extremely proud of each of them.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption community #van der linde gang college au #van der linge gang #red dead redemption au #red dead redemption 2 college au #red desd redemption college au #arthur morgan #John marston #Dutch van der linde #Charles Smith #javier escuella #sean macguire #lenny summers #bill williamson #micah bell #Pearson #abigail roberts #sadie adler #karen jones #tilly jackson #mary beth gaskill #hosea matthews #molly o'shea

[thekingsfantasy]

The ‘68 Comeback Special

Elvis! x Femm reader. Soooo this is supposed to be based on this story about the comeback special....Elvis getting a little too excited during the special. That story has just been in my mind for so long and I had to write something about it. I had a lot of fun writing this. I usually write Austin!Elvis but I kind of imagined this one as the man himself. Of course you can choose who you fantasize about. ;) This isn’t super accurate, obviously just fantasy. 

Warnings: SMUT. Nothing specific I don’t think. 18+, Minors DNI. 

Enjoy! ;)

It was the 1968 comeback special that was supposed to relaunch Elvis’s career. After making so many movies, he was ready to come back into the spotlight and preform his music again. You had been married to Elvis for the past five years, and you hadn’t seen him this happy about playing music in a long time.

The set managers decided to put you further up the stands. Elvis insisted that they put you where he could see you, and they did. Where Elvis stands in the middle of the stage, you were just to the right of him, at the top corner of the stands.  

*****

Elvis had confided to you before the show that he was nervous, but when he got on that stage, it melted away. He looked so at home there, and the crowd was as welcoming and enthusiastic as ever. You were clapping and singing along with the crowd as Elvis preforms. He shoots you glances every song, which still gave you butterflies. The women near the ground at the stage looked up at him in awe, and Elvis loved it. Elvis was groaning and singing more enthusiastically than normal, but nobody minded one bit. 

Just before the halfway mark of the show, one of Elvis’s managers came up the stairs where you were sitting and whispered in your ear.

“Mrs. Presley, Uh- Elvis has requested you in his dressing room after the show. I know you usually go to the car, but please meet him there. The security will come get you in an hour.”

You nod and thank him. He quickly goes back down the stairs, not to interrupt anyone’s view of the show. It wasn’t unheard of for you to go to the dressing room after the shows, but you had no idea why he made a specific request to the manager to have you there. You felt your stomach to cartwheels. Knowing Elvis, you knew you were in for it later.

After an amazing special, the filming was wrapped up. Before anyone else left the seating, you were escorted away with the security to Elvis’s dressing room. You passed groupies and fans along the narrow hallways, some acknowledging you, but most not looking your way. That was usually the way it went.

You thanked the men as you entered the red painted room and they closed the door behind you. You were there before Elvis was. There was a vanity lit up by warm lights surrounding the mirror. You walk over and noticed a small photograph, you both on your wedding night. You pick it up gently in your hands and trace your fingers over it. The memory made you smile.

There was a long black sofa on the wall of the room, with refreshments and food on the side table beside it. Before you could think of anything else, you hear the door unlock. You hear fans still screaming for Elvis in the background. He slips through the door and locks it behind him. He picks up a towel from the side table by the door and wipes the sweat from his face away.

“EP!” You exclaim, walking towards him. He smiles and pulls you into deep, lustful kiss. You try to pull away to congratulate him on his amazing performance, but he doesn’t let go. He takes one of your hands and puts it on his crotch. You could feel the soft leather, and the heat from his rock-hard cock. He continues to kiss you for a moment, walking back towards the sofa, pulling you with him. He plops down backwards and spreads his legs apart. He motions you with his fingers to sit on his lap.

You obey is command and put your legs on either side of his, bent to place yourself on the sofa.

“I’ve been fuckin’ hard this whole night. I’ve nearly been edgin’ myself for a fuckin’ hour.” He licked his lips and breathed hard. You could see the sweat dripping from him, making his chest slick. “My cock rubbing against these leather pants, lookin’ at you up in the crowd, looking all innocent for me. Drove me fuckin’ crazy.” He puts a hand on your hip, and another grabs your chin and pulls you close to his face. “I want you to grind on my cock through these pants and make me cum. Can you do that for me, baby?”

You smile and nod, biting your bottom lip between your teeth. “You were so fucking amazing Elvis. It would be my honor to make you cum tonight.” You both laugh and kiss hard again. His hands move across you fast and runs them up your legs.

“Pull up that skirt,” He starts, feeling your bare ass. “No panties tonight? I figured that might be the case.” He teases, pulling his hand to rub your folds. You grip his shoulder as he rubs you and you moan, pulling your skirt up farther.

“Did you fuckin’ soak that seat while you were sittin’ up there watchin’ me? Good god girl.”

He pushes one of his fingers inside you and it makes you hum in pleasure.

“Seenin’ all those women out there wantin’ me, but knowin’ I got you all to myself. I’m so lucky.”

You grip his shoulders tighter as he fingers you. You look down at him and smile. “I would call myself the lucky one.”

He leans into you and sucks your neck. He smells like cologne and sweat.

“Grind on me now baby, I can’t take it anymore.”

Elvis pushes your hips down on him, and you feel his hard cock on your pussy through his leather pants.

He moans out for you as he grips your hips hard as you start to grind. The wetness of your pussy makes the leather slick and the softness of it combined with his hard cock makes your clit slide against him smoothly. The feeling made you moan on him, and he does the same.

“Holy fuck, I can feel that warm pussy through these damn pants. You sure got a fuckin’ hold on me, doll.”

You look into his eyes as you grind on him, and you already feel yourself coming close.

“Elvis…”

“Are you gonna cum before I can?” He laughs deeply, slapping your ass hard. “I fuckin’ knew you would. You’re too much of a fuckin’ minx not too.” Elvis slaps your ass again, harder. It makes you squeal.

“Cum on me then, my little slut. Cum from grinding on my cock. Give in to me. You better scream when you cum, I want everyone to hear you.”

That put you over the edge, and you move your hips faster as Elvis helps you move against his cock. You feel your orgasm come over you, and you scream his name repeatedly. 

When you finally came down, you slowed down a bit, but Elvis had no time to stop.

“Don’t you dare fuckin’ slow down baby. I need to fuckin’ cum.”

You do as you are told and move your hips to the same pace again. He throws his head back as he moans for you. He groans and curses as you move your hips in a circular motion, and then back and forth.

“Fuck me, I’m going to explode, Y/N…. C’mon baby, go faster, make me cum..”

His nails are digging into your hips as you grind on him as fast as you can. You lean towards his face and kiss him as he moans into your mouth.

“I-I’m gonna…”

Before he could say another word, his hips were bucking up against you, and you could feel the warm cum spurt from him. His legs were shaking uncontrollably, and there was no way people on the other side of the door didn’t hear his animalistic groans. Some of it was leaking from the waistband of the pants. Elvis lets his grip go of your hips, and you get off him and lick up the warm fluid from his abdomen. He is still breathing hard, but he manages to look down at you and run his hand through your hair.

“You fuckin’ dirty girl. You can’t even have one session where you don’t get to eat me up, can you?”

You smile and shake your head, licking your lips.

You mount his legs again and pull him in for another kiss. He relaxes against you and takes your face in his hands.

After kissing for a minute or two, he pulls back and smiles at you.

“You’re the best, y’know?” He puts a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“I know.”

You laugh together and you press your hand against his chest. 

“What do you say we go home and do it all over again?” You question, tilting your head slightly. 

“You don’t have to ask me twice, mama.” 

#elvis presley #elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis smut #austin!elvis smut #elvis 2022 #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic

[marilynthornhilllover]

Hii, what about Rebecca Welton x Black!wife!reader based off the song So My Darling (acoustic) by Rachel Chinouriri?

Remember I'll always love you

Rebecca Welton x black!wife!Reader

Warning:fluff, indecent language, kissing, anxiety,

A/n: after I finished writing I realized that I read your ask wrong, but I hope the story line still works for you:) hope you enjoy reading as I did with writing♡♡. I'll probably make a part 2 when I have spare time because this is so cute!

♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●♡●

You knocked softly on the door, and Rebecca opened it, a confused but surprised expression was painted on her face. You smiled softly at her as she returned it.

She was dress in her usual attire. Black pencil cut skirt and a tint blue silk blouse with light pink fluffy house slippers. Her hair in a decent messy bun and light makeup. She looked heavenly.

"Y/n darling, your early" she said a bit nervously, your smile drop alittle thinking you may have came a little to early and maybe she hadn't finished preparing yet.

" Oh I hope that's OK, it's gonna rain soon so I thought I'd come early to beat the rush, you know how Manhatten is" you spoke chuckling slightly.

" ah yes no problem, at all" she spoke placing her hand on her hip, smiling.

It was starting to get awkward between the both of you.

" um can I come in now?" You asked, it was below a whisper but audible enough for her to hear. Your baby voice broke her from her trance.

" Yes of course" she said loudly as she moved for you to come in. As you entered her flat you were immediately hit with the most strong aroma.

Rebecca really went all out to make this first date special. She walked into the kitchen and you followed sitting on a beanch around the island.

" Your gonna have to give me a house tour babe" you said in hope to make small talk. Rebecca turned around surprised at the name you just called her.

" um yeah ok, um sure i- just" Rebecca stumbled on her words you could tell she was nervous. You got up and walked over to her, you smiled at her softly as you held both her hands in yours.

" becaa it's ok, step by step right?" She nodded as a small smile painted her lips.

"You ready to eat, I made Italian pasta, i didn't know what you liked so I tried my best" taking the pasta off the stove she placed it onto the counter.

You could tell she was nervous but you didn't want her to be. She was doing her absolute best.

" would you like wine?" She asked before she walked into the wine pantry.

" sure" you responded taking a look at her apartment again. It was truly beautiful, and it was definitely her aesthetic. Scented candles to her perfume, dim light, big window, grey curtains, it was giving old money vibes.

But most of all it was very Rebecca Welton vibes.

" how long have you lived here" you questioned when she brought back the wine and two wine glasses.

" not long probably a year and a half" she responded pouring the wine into the glass.

" becca" her name on your tongue was like music to her ears. She hummed in response and looked up at you. For a moment you swore the world stopped moving. And it was just the both of you. Her big green eyes staring into your eyes. You were stuck in a trance with her.

" Your doing enough becca, you just being with me in a cave is more than enough for a first date" you spoke as she giggled a little.

" see their's the becca I know, let your hair down" you said smiling from ear to ear, Rebecca sighed, almost like she was holding it in for an eternity.

You both sat down and had dinner. It was absolutely amazing. Great flavor, great seasonings, it was just perfect.

" did you like it?" She asked as she took both plates and proceeded to take them to the sink.

" yeah, you should open your own restaurant" you said and she began laughing like crazy.

" darling I had to watch 10 tiktoks and probably 15 YouTube videos to make that" she said as she started to turn red.

" atleast you tired" you said in between gigles.

" A for fucking effort" she commented. You both were dying of laughter. After you both caught your breaths you looked at eachother again.

" well it was still perfect" you said admiring her facial features. You both leaned in to kiss but you both pulled away.

" Well the night is still young darling, what do you wanna do" she asked drying her hands as she walked into her grand lounge area, you following like the little lost pup you were. Her flat was as big as any mansion.

You gasped as you saw the alluring porcelain and gold piano in the room, she turned around and followed your eye line seeing what made you react the way you did. A soft smile came across her face.

" ah yes, came with the apartment, I used it a couple times but" she stop as she looked at the piano deeply, if you didn't know better you would have thought she was admiring it but you did know better and she was looking at it as if it brought back memories.

" can you play" she asked snapping out of her trance, her gaze meeting yours. you looked down at the floor nervously.

" Oh come on it can't be that bad" she said a flint of sarcasm to it. You looked up to meet her eyes and glared at her.

" come here" she sat on the bench in front of the piano and tapped to spot next to her. You obliged and sat next to her.

" play what you know" she whispered. You sighed as you began to play ocean eyes instrumental, it wasn't perfect nor was it terrible but it could use some work.

" not bad" she said smiling as she began to play a song. You recognized it from the intro beat. It was 'so my darling'. One of your favorite songs.

She slowly began singing it while she was playing and you couldn't help but blush. Her green eyes shimmered in the dimly lit room, the candle on top of the piano was the only source of light.

As she ended the song she couldn't help but smile at you.

" that was perfect" you whispered as you leaned into her. Both your lips met and it was electric. It was soft and slow, so passionate. It felt as if there was no time in the world and you both can kiss forever. Soon it became rough as both your tongues dance like two lover's in the rain.

You both pulled away for air, bursting out laughing again.

" Your perfect" you said, laying your head on her shoulder.

" and darling your magical" she whispered kissing your temple. You soon fell asleep to her playing her song again.

#fypシ゚viral #fanfic #ask response #rebecca welton #ted lasso #hulu tv #x fem!reader #x female y/n #fluff #cute

[redheadspark]

Hi love 🩷 I just absolutely love how you write Jack Russel! I don’t if you’ve already done this, but can I please request #14 with Jack please ?

A/N - Jack would short-circuit for certain! Thanks for requesting my friend!

Moment

Summary - Jack's first date with you was nothing extravagant, but he thought you were

Warnings - Just some cute fluffiness!

"Well, that was an adventure!"

"I'm so sorry about tonight,"

"What are you talking about, Jack? It was wonderful!"

Jack was sitting against his ottoman at the foot of his bed, watching you take out the earrings you were wearing and then the bracelets to put on the dresser. He looked rather shocked by what you said, and you were so calm and relaxed as you were ruffling your hair from it being in the ponytail that he was in.

"It was?" Jack asked, not wanting to sound too shocked about it but he was. You turned around to face him, grinning as you nodded your head.

"Of course," You replied, shrugging off your blazer and then throwing on a cotton jacket that you had hanging next to you at your dresser. Jack was still shocked since in his mind it was a disaster of a date.

He had reservations at a great restaurant that you would have loved to eat at, and then a stroll through the park right next to the restaurant. For the past two weeks, he was thinking about this first date. Ever since he asked you out he was wanting it to be the best date ever.

It was the opposite.

The restaurant was beyond busy and you two were shoved in the back, the loud talking and music around you made it hard for you two to hear your conversation. And the food came out cold and undercooked, Jack was embarrassed to send it back and have to wait a bit longer for the rest dish. And once you two left the restaurant, it started to rain. Going to the park was going to be a wash. He felt as though he took every blow that was against him to have a great date with you, yet he was surprised that your smile never left your face throughout the whole night.

Jack took you back to your apartment and you invited him in to escape the rest of the rain, although Jack wanted to just hide in his own apartment and forget the date ever happened.

"The food was good, although they got your plate wrong and you had it sent it back. That's their fault, not yours," You explained as you sat down next to him on the ottoman, "And those stories about your travels, I loved every one! Especially the story of you and Nepal!"

Jack felt himself blush from hearing that from you. Just seeing you next to him, stripped down from your date outfit and in sweats and jacket, still looking as gorgeous as the day he met you some time ago. He always thought of you as beautiful, from the freckles along your nose and cheeks to the way you painted your fingernails a dark color to contrast against your skin tone, and your eyes were so bright and infectious. Jack considered himself lucky when you said yes to a date with him.

"Tonight was amazing, Jack," you said to him, reaching down to lace your fingers together and give him a kind smile, "I would do it again if you wanted to,"

"Yes!" Jack said quickly, then looking rather sheepish as he slammed his mouth shut, "I mean...yes, I would love to go on another date with you,"

Your smile never left your face as you leaned in and kiss his lips so softly. Jack felt his heart burst and expand at the same time, leaning into you a bit more to kiss you back and gently cradle your face in his palm. He was always a reserved person, with every decision he would have to make he had to consider the outcome. But with you, you shook his world from head to toe. Jack ever thought he would feel like this with another person, but he wasn't afraid of it. At that moment when you kissed him, after a disastrous date, Jack would kiss you again and again. And he would take on any other horrible date that came his way, as long as you were there with him.

The End.

Spring Prompt Session

#jack russell x y/n #jack russell x you #jack russell x fem!reader #jack russell x reader #jack russell #werewolf by night fanfiction #werewolf by night #marvel cinematic fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #mcu writing #mcu phase 4 #mcu fanfiction

[batwritings]

Hello! Can I request something with Schlatt?  Ive binge read every post of your and oh my goooooddddd its just <3 

Can the request with schlatt be suggestive/or nsfw, where schlatt is trying to get into kinks? (being new to it all). The kink can be anything you want, your writing is just so amazing. all the best!

also can i be, if its not taken, 🕷anon?

Hello friend! I really had to wrack my brain for this one, because I've got a list of kinks I could've pulled out here, haha. ^^; This one is a bit...out there, so please let me know if there's something else you would've liked to see! Enjoy!~

Please note: This is not what fully encompasses a session with this kink! Anything mentioned is extremely brief for the sake of the story! Thank you!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you first brought up the concept of your hypnosis kink with Schlatt, the man was...skeptical to say the least. Nobody really thought that stuff worked right? Nobody truly in their heart of hearts believed that some werido swinging a pocket watch around was gonna get them to listen to their every command...right?

Yet the more you talked to him about it, how it worked and how you would never ever dare to make him do something against his will, Schlatt started to consider it. It was going to take a lot of trust, but it was something he was willing to delve into with you. He finally approached you after what he felt was one of the longest days of his life, a pleading look in his golden eyes.

You had him sit in his favorite chair in the office, and while that, coupled with the soft, lulling music would've seemed normal, you couldn't help but be amused by the confusion painted across his features. "What's that for?" Schlatt asked in a slightly accusatory tone. He pointed at the dark, knotted toy that was stuck to his desk.

"Trust the process," you told him, kissing his fuzzy cheek sweetly. "Now just lean back and let me handle everything alright?" The ram squinted at you, hesitant already about this so-called "process". Yet he conceded, folding his hands together and leaning back.

"Good," you chirped, letting your voice take a slower, lower octave. "I want you to close your eyes for me Schlatt, just listen to my words for a few minutes." You watched him visibly relax in the chair, your voice working to calm him and verbally rub the knots out of his body.

"Take a few nice deep breaths for me now," you guided, watching as the feared president of Manburg melted under your words. Schlatt followed your instructions to a 't' as you watched with slight awe as his muscles tightened and loosened when you asked. You watched with delight when he slowly fell apart, fingers falling limp, jaw going slack. If one didn't know any better, they'd probably accuse him of falling asleep at work.

"Can you hear me Schlatt?" you tested softly, letting yourself undress as you spoke. You had a special plan for this stubborn ram and this little toy. You watched with rapt attention as he nodded slowly. "Very good. I want you to open your eyes and look at the toy on your desk."

Golden orbs that were glazed over opened just enough to lay sight to the object of attention. "Take notice of how it looks just a bit too similar doesn't it," you spoke, making sure your voice carried a level of certainty to it. You wanted him to believe you after all. "In fact, the longer you look, the all more familiar it becomes to your own cock. Every ridge and curve the exact same. And it's going to take the place of your cock Schlatt. Every single time you see me use this toy, all sensation will transfer to you. You won't be able to escape the pleasure when you see me stroking it or riding it. Do you understand?"

Once more, Schlatt nodded, letting his heavy eyelids fall shut once more. You chuckled softly, silently stepping over to rub at the base of his horns. "Very good sweet ram," you cooed. "Now I'm going to bring you up out of trance at the count of ten. You'll wake feeling very relaxed, like you just had the best nap of your life, remembering as little or as much of this as you'd like. Ready?"

The process of bringing Schlatt up out of trance was slow, but sure as you had told him, you speaking the word "ten" was like a gentle alarm clock the nudged him to full consciousness. The ram hybrid yawned loudly, stretching big as if he truly had just gotten up for the morning. You smiled brightly as his eyes opened, practically popping out of their sockets when he saw you naked with the toy in your hands.

"The hell did I miss?" Schlatt muttered, more to himself than you. Before he could consider what exactly happened that he couldn't recall, he watched your hand stroke up on the toy. A jolt of pleasure shot through his body like an arrow, his member twitching to life beneath his slacks. "Wh-what the fuck?"

You giggled deviously, letting saliva drip from your lips onto the toy as you continued to stroke it. An uncharacteristic high keen fell from Schlatt's lips as he bucked at the air. His memory finally caught up with his groggy state as he recalled your words from trance.

You watched eagerly as pleasure coursed through Schlatt's body with every movement you made on the toy. You continued stroking the silicon dick until you could see his thighs quiver with need. Slowly, purely just to tease, you let it slip between your legs. Both of you were moaning in unison, your ram from the pleasure of feeling you completely encompass him yet not at all, and you from the fullness of the toy.

When you started to move, Schlatt started to ramble. Words of praise, pleas for the you to "not fucking stop, dear god please don't stop," and more fell like the prettiest song you've ever heard. He was bucking his hips against nothing until he finally came, practically screaming out for you.

You slowed yourself to a halt, toy buried inside you and all, a knowing smile on your lips. "Had enough yet?" you smirked as you gingerly pulled the silicone from your aching hole. You yourself weren't done, but Schlatt very well may have been.

A cocky grin was what greeted you when you met his eyes. "Oh doll," he chuckled darkly, standing up to approach you. "We're just gettin' started with this little magic trick of yours."

Needless to say, Schlatt was very much a fan of your "magic trick".

#bat writes #anon reqs #🕷anon #schlatt smut #dsmp smut #mcyt smut

[popblank]

Lempicka at the La Jolla Playhouse:

This was one of the shows I had wanted to see before the pandemic, even though La Jolla is a little out of my way. I saw it twice, both times with Amber Iman as Rafaela so unfortunately I did not see Ximone Rose in the role.   

I have been trying to write this post for weeks and every time try I end up having more thoughts, so this is absurdly long compared my usual post-viewing notes. The show is full of ideas about art, revolution, love, women’s agency, and how these things all mix and and it makes me want to take the show apart and examine all the pieces and see how they fit together (this is a good thing, by the way). Hopefully there will be more productions in the future so I can continue doing so.

General thoughts follow, with spoilery details further down below the cut:

The show’s frame is Tamara de Lempicka reflecting on her life in Los Angeles in 1975. The 1975 scenes bookend a chronological depiction of her life starting from the Russian Revolution to around the time she left Europe, apparently before WW2. The story focuses on how her art career develops and how the societal and historical forces (that at the time were upending countries and ideas) affected her and her relationships.  

Generally the songs sound like modern pop musical theater, some with lots of electronic production in line with the recurring theme of Futurism. There are also cabaret numbers performed in-universe as well as some familiar modern musical theater style belty solos.  

Overall, I really enjoyed it.  First act is stronger than the second act, and the ending seems a bit muddled.  

At my first viewing, the audience was more excited to see the show.  Both Eden Espinosa and Amber Iman got a bit of entrance applause, and I think every song got a decent reaction.  At curtain call I’d say the largest reaction went to George Abud (Marinetti) and Amber Iman (Rafaela).  That day, they were filming audience reactions just outside the lobby for promotional videos; I was approached on my way out by someone with a clipboard to ask if I enjoyed the show (I did) and if I wanted to talk about it on camera (I didn’t).

The 2nd time, the audience was a little more reserved. It was less responsive in general (hardly a giggle at some of the jokes that went over well the first time) and some of the people near me barely clapped at all, which I rarely see in a theater. However, at the end of the show this audience seemed quicker to stand for an ovation, and gave an actual roar for Amber Iman at curtain call (deserved, as she knocked her songs out of the park that evening).

Spoiler warning: below is as much detail as I can remember about plot, staging, etc. Song titles were not listed in the program so these titles are 100% guesses for songs not yet released, and it is entirely likely I have missed some details or gotten things in the wrong order.

-------------------- Plot details below --------------------

Show details

There was no curtain - the main thing you see on stage before the show is a huge image of Tamara de Lempicka’s painting Autoportrait (Tamara in a Green Bugatti).

The lights went down for the overture, which is electronic and propulsive and thrilling in combination with the lighting, neon arcs and diagonal edges on sliding quadrilateral panels. The audience at my initial viewing burst into applause at this point. The panels were otherwise blank white surfaces and were used throughout the show, often as a canvas for projections that signpost exactly when and where the scene is taking place.

The action starts with Lempicka (Eden Espinosa) sitting on a bench in Los Angeles, 1975 (with a projection of those words and some sepia-toned palm trees as I recall). She addresses the audience and sings a song asking "How Did We Get Here?”

Flash back to the Russian Revolution.  Workers sing about how it is now “Our Time” in soaring and optimistic tones. Tamara’s Polish aristocrat husband Tadeusz Lempicki (Andrew Samonsky) however actively supports the Tsar and is hauled off by the secret police to Solovetsky prison. Tamara follows and attempts to bribe a series of prison guards with pieces of her jewelry to try to get to her husband.  The guards (at first) take the jewels for themselves while sneeringly declaring that they are merely taking back what was stolen from the people in the first place, and one gets the sense that the revolution is not as noble as it claims to be. The third guard is not interested in jewels and it is strongly implied that she has to perform sexual favors in exchange for her husband’s release from prison. At this point we see a second Tamara portrayed by a dancer, who occasionally appears in what I interpret as moments of dissociation.  

I liked “Our Time” for its irony; the words and music profess the ideals of the revolution while the audience (hopefully) knows the historical truth of what the revolution was and will become, with the Lempickis’ treatment an example.  It will not be the first time in the show where the pursuit of ideas without regard to people leads to poor outcomes.  

The couple travel by train to Paris with their baby daughter Kizette. In song, Tadeusz frets about how she got him out while Tamara tries to soothe both him and the baby. Paris is alive and exciting and full of people (we briefly see Rafaela pass through here; at my first viewing Amber Iman got entrance applause). The Lempickis need to build a new life; both of them need to get actual jobs for money, even though he thinks it’s beneath them and their class. But she is determined to go out and work, representing the “New Woman.” She appears to be working as a cleaning lady when she sees an street artist selling a painting.  Remembering when her youthful talent for painting was discouraged, she decides that she could totally do that instead.

She paints on the street and tries to sell a painting to a Baron and Baroness (Victor Chan and Jacquelyn Ritz, though I saw Luke Monday as the Baron the second time). The Baroness is skeptical but the Baron is impressed enough to give her a recommendation to take painting classes with Marinetti. Tamara manages to do so despite the expense. Marinetti (George Abud) is a veteran of the Great War and now has little patience for whatever he doesn’t consider truth congruent with his experience. She paints a portrait and Marinetti is bored by it, not at all interested in her layering of shades of blue (which she incidentally remains fascinated by throughout the show). He talks about how painting is only colors on a canvas (that is the only thing the artist can control) and the representation is not the thing itself, but the painting must convey what the artist is trying to say. He instructs her to lighten up and go have a glass of wine at the “Dead Rat Café”/Café du Rat Mort. 

At the café Tamara meets Suzy Solidor, who is working as the bartender.  She also sees Rafaela for the first time. While Rafaela sings the uptempo cabaret number “Love is for Fools” to a raucous and appreciative crowd, Tamara looks on from the bar gobsmacked, and falls head over heels in artistic lust. (I spent half the song watching Amber Iman as Rafaela and half the song watching Tamara watching Rafaela, entertaining all around.)  She then waxes rhapsodic about how she wants to experience Rafaela’s body with all of her senses... in order to paint her portrait (”Beauty/I Will Paint Her”). (Sure Tamara, whatever you say.) 

Meanwhile Tadeusz has managed to get a job at a bank, monotonously exchanging currency for bank customers. The job is boring and he starts ruminating once again about what his wife exchanged (get it?) in order to free him. It’s Tadeusz’s big moment song-wise and Andrew Samonsky sings it with considerable emotion and skill (I didn’t realize his voice had that much range), but it’s a kind of dull song with not particularly inspired lyrics.  Granted, it fits the character as we have seen him so far.

Tamara is finally showing her art at a show along with Marinetti’s other students. Suzy is hanging around as well serving drinks and offering other services, since she “knows a guy who knows a guy.”  Marinetti is characteristically impatient with the series of landscapes and portraits until he sees her painting, which apparently is more in line with his vision of art.  He insults the other students while singling out Lempicka (who as I recall is signing her paintings with this name at this point) for approval in a rather sexist way, and explains his vision (”Perfection”) while perched a the top of a rolling ladder with all of his students running around below him.  It’s a great performance from George Abud and he is totally compelling as Marinetti, especially in this song.  

Rafaela shows up at the show (she hangs around with Marinetti) and Lempicka is more or less like “It’s you! Model for me!” She makes a bet with Marinetti about finishing Rafaela’s portrait and Rafaela is intrigued by her self-assuredness.  Eden Espinosa sells this part well.

Weeks later, Lempicka is painting a portrait of her daughter Kizette (Jordan Tyson), who now appears to be approximately tween-ish. Lempicka is clearly not all that enthused about the role of “mother” and while their relationship seems to be amicable, it doesn’t seem like Kizette has much of her mother’s attention except through art. When Rafaela unexpectedly shows up, Kizette is promptly sent off. Rafaela models for Lempicka and during this process they sing about the experience of being together with the other person in this oddly intimate way (”Stillness”).  At some point they take a break to go to the Dead Rat Café, where Rafaela and Lempicka smoke opium together with lots of flirtatious and sensual implications before Rafaela sings “The Most Beautiful Bracelet.” Lempicka is entranced and a little high. She and Rafaela kiss, and then go back to Lempicka’s studio and sleep together. Lempicka watches Rafaela as she sleeps and sings “Woman Is.”  It’s fierce and dramatic and Eden Espinosa sang the hell out of it, but the song itself (indeed the show itself) has more dramatic high notes than it needs. 

Even so it is hard not to get carried along with the sweep of emotion. One moment I particularly liked was the final image before intermission, when Lempicka returns to bed with Rafaela and the sliding panels close, with the diagonal gap framing Eden Espinosa’s profile as the lights fade to black. (It was at this point where I said to myself, “I have to buy a ticket and see this again.”)

To start Act 2, Marinetti brings a stool on stage to lecture the audience and set the scene while two mimes (yes, mimes) dance behind him to provide farcical emphasis. As we flash forward through the late 1920s and into the 1930s aided by projections on the panels, the world is going through several upheavals (stock market crash, Depression, rise of the Nazis) but “Paris Will Always Be Paris.”  There is a repeated wishful refrain along the lines of “We’ve made it through the Great War, now that’s done/There will never be another one” and it lands harder each time because of the very earnestness of each character singing it.  

Lempicka has become very successful and popular and is selling many portraits of women (with a distinctly female gaze) to the wealthy and stylish crowd.  She has her own career and her lover and her husband (who has his own lover) and is a representative of the “New Woman”.  However there are obvious strains in her relationship with Tadeusz, and she is still trying to save the marriage because for reasons that are somewhat unclear to me, she still loves him very much.

Rafaela wants to go to Lempicka’s upcoming show at the 1937 Paris International Exhibition, but Lempicka doesn’t want her to because it’ll be awkward for multiple reasons. Rafaela is frustrated at constantly being hidden away, so Lempicka takes her to Suzy’s new underground lesbian bar Le Monocle. Suzy sings a song extolling women (”Women”) that is very well-performed and choreographed, though the song itself is not quite as strong.  During this song, the bar’s clientele dance and flirt and drink and glide around elegantly; Lempicka and Rafaela affirm their love for each other, talk about a world where they could be together, and Lempicka gifts her a bracelet. Rafaela considers whether love and stability might be good for a change (”Stay”).

Lempicka’s family relationships are still difficult. Tadeusz wants to go back to Warsaw to help build an independent Poland while she wants to stay in Paris.  Kizette is back from boarding school and is resentful of her mother’s attention to Rafaela. Kizette manipulates Rafaela into going to the exhibition (although Rafaela is not entirely unaware of what Kizette is doing).

At the art exhibition, the Baroness sees Lempicka’s paintings (one specifically mentioned is “Adam and Eve”) and declares that she sees what Lempicka is trying to do and that she in fact has achieved it. I believe it is also at this point that she warns Lempicka that things are changing and bad things can happen to outsiders.  Earlier in the show it was mentioned that the Baron is Jewish, as is Lempicka in part; Lempicka’s relationship with Rafaela also puts her at risk.  Rafaela shows up and encounters Tadeusz; they circle each other warily and sing a somewhat antagonistic duet about how they each “can see what she sees” in the other, because they are so much alike. (I take this to be irony.)  Marinetti appears wearing a military uniform and makes a flippant comment about the similarities between the art of Communism (represented by the Soviet Union) and that of Fascism (represented by Nazi Germany) at the exhibition. He himself has joined the Italian Fascists, because the Italians have made Futurism the official art of the movement. It’s quite a shocking and disquieting moment in the show (even more so because I had no knowledge of the real Marinetti), yet everything he has said so far in the show is a consistent lead-up to this point.

Things start to fall apart very rapidly for Lempicka after this. Marinetti and his Fascist cohort violently raid Le Monocle in choreographed slow-motion destruction. Lempicka tries to get Rafaela to leave Europe (giving her a passport and papers) just as Lempicka plans to go with her family, but Rafaela is tired of being expected to follow behind Lempicka in her wake, and leaves her. Tadeusz freely admits he’s seeing another woman, and leaves for Warsaw alone. This all occurs in a dramatic trio. Lempicka attempts suicide and is basically ready to give up because she has lost everything she cared about, but the Baroness shows up and tells her to get back to work and paint a portrait before she leaves.  Apparently the Baroness has a terminal illness and only has a couple of months to live (”End of Time”). She also asks that Lempicka take the Baron with her when she leaves, given their previous fondness for each other.  It’s a big song for the Baroness and I enjoyed the actress and her singing, but the song seemed a bit strange since it sits where I would expect the eleven o’clock number to be.  At this point in the show I would like to know what Lempicka is thinking and feeling after all of these events, and I don’t have that much emotional investment in the Baroness.  

In any case, the Baron and Lempicka end up together in California (”Starting Over”) where she is thoroughly uninspired by the environment (there are a few amusing digs at LA) and no longer creates art. The Baron eventually dies, and as Lempicka ages she looks back and wonders what the point of it all was.  She imagines a vision of Rafaela, who tells Lempicka she has to live not knowing what happened to her.  Lempicka’s physical health seems to be declining, and Kizette (who is still present in her life) appears to support her. Nevertheless, she is still determined to dictate her own terms as much as possible and demands that after her death, Kizette should throw her ashes into an active volcano.

Eventually someone finds her paintings hidden away in storage in Paris, and once again her work is recognized and celebrated and sold for a lot of money.  It is unclear if this is meant to be happening during her lifetime, but in a reprise of “Woman Is”, onstage Lempicka sees the myriad of women she has painted pass before her and has a realization, which seems to be that the point was in fact the representation of all of these women in their uniqueness and individuality and diversity, which was her vision of the world and the future, and is her legacy.  

The meaning of the ending is a little murky, but there’s a good line in that scene about how it’s “a bitch to outlive one’s context”. The idea that her own greatness seemed so dependent on living in a particular time and place, and that fact that the same interwar mix of ideas and politics and culture that fueled her success also spawned the things that destroyed the world she lived in.  It’s not addressed further, but it’s one of the many things to chew on afterward.

When I went to read articles on Lempicka (where apparently plenty of prominent people admired her for decades) the idea that her art was suddenly “discovered” seems a bit disingenuous even if it makes for a supposedly more satisfying ending.  Maybe there’s an idea which could be made clearer about the cycles of time and history.

Staging

Staging was very fun to watch and it was probably one of the better uses of projections I’ve seen, where projections provide actual context and information and are not just literal representations of the setting. There is extensive use of the turntable, which was occasionally distracting because as the show went on, the noise from the turntable could be heard clearly in the background (it took a while for me to figure out what it was because it sounded like crumpling paper, amplified).

Character thoughts

Tamara de Lempicka:  I can see why Marinetti’s vision of art would appeal to her; she goes through the show trying as best she can to control her own destiny, but also trying get the people around her to fit into her plans and that clearly didn’t work. I wish I’d gotten a better idea of how she reckons with that failure in Act 2 as mentioned above, which I think would make her arc clearer.  As the character, I thought Eden Espinosa acted the part very well and carries the show well as the emotional center. Her singing was very good although she had to do a lot of high belting, which didn’t always sound as great. Though this was also an issue with the music - often those high notes seemed like overkill. Surely there ought to be other ways to show the characters’ huge, cathartic feelings in a way that allow for musical expressiveness and also don’t sound so similar between different characters, but I am not a songwriter.

Tadeusz Lempicki: Boring (not to mentioned old-fashioned and classist); while stability is a thing I personally value, it is really hard to understand why Lempicka is so devoted to him. Andrew Samonsky sings the part well, but Tadeusz is written as a something of a stick in the mud who doesn't understand the art his wife is doing, and even the song where he expresses his feelings about how she got him out of prison seems ineloquent in a way that is fitting but doesn’t do him a lot of favors.  The song that seems to best fit with the guy in the portrait is the duet with Rafaela.

Marinetti is a fun, mad visionary and his vision of the future is seductive, even if full of alarming undercurrents. As a supporting character and semi-villain he drives a decent amount of the action, has his own arc, the catchiest song (”Perfection”) and steals the show for me.  I think George Abud was excellent as Marinetti both times - I was completely absorbed whenever he was on the stage, his energy and singing were consistently great, and I fully believed his character.

Rafaela: Still a bit of a mystery even though she has three full songs on her own plus parts of duets, though two of the songs are in-universe performances even if they partly express her personal feelings. I think it is fitting that as currently portrayed in this show the woman who finally inspires Lempicka’s woman of the future is not a white woman.  Amber Iman has a ton of presence; I remember seeing her back in the first tour of Hamilton and she seemed like a bit of an odd fit for the Peggy Schuyler half of the role. She played Rafaela in a relaxed way that felt modern to me, as if Rafaela could drop into the present day smoothly, in contrast to Lempicka feeling herself to be out of context in 1975 Los Angeles. At my second viewing, Amber Iman was having a great nigh; during "The Most Beautiful Bracelet" I had no idea where her vocal runs were going to go but they were controlled and ended up solidly exactly in the place where they needed to b, which was pretty exciting to listen to. 

Suzy Solidor: very fun and a welcome contrast to the aristocratic properness of Lempicka, her husband, and the Baron & Baroness. Could easily be another scene-stealer depending on how the show goes. 

Final thoughts: 

There are shows that I’ve seen that were “pre-Broadway” that seemed more obviously Broadway-ready, but it’s been a while since I’ve been hooked by a show and that is always fun.  I haven’t read anything that says what this is doing after La Jolla but I hope to be able to see it again somewhere.

#lempicka #lempicka musical

[saltofmercury]

for the writing ask game: 9, 3, 23

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

HELL YES. Just the other day I was dreaming that some old man was in my apartment. I had freaked out and woke up, and I shit you not like 5 minutes later, the sound bar in my living room turned on and I had pushed my husband to go check it out. EVEN the music that was playing had me clutching my pearls!!!

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

my face needs to be washed, IDK WHY but I have to be clean before I sit down and knock out a fic. I also need my coffee to stay as hot as possible. IF those two things are good, then I can get into something comfortable, and write. BUT sometimes my face gets oily and my glasses slide down my nose, OR my coffee gets cold and I have to get up and reheat it. I'm difficult i don't know.

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

omg I'm the type of person that needs complete silence and quiet when I study, write papers, read, etc. So there are times that my husband will leave the entire day and I can knock out a little bit of each story I'm working on. I like to get up, shower, make myself a big cup of coffee, fix my bed, spray my bed with some lavender, and I sit down and tackle it. I close all my windows, including the blinds like i'm a vampire or something LOL but it's how i concentrate and how I was in college too.

#ask

[ghostcaterwaul-doesnt-write]

A Realization I Had While Attempting To Answer An Ask

I think it's been so long since I've written any sort of like, prose or fiction that I've... Forgotten how?

Because here's the thing. I can outline. I can brainstorm. I can write pages and pages about a WIP, talking about the characters, their lives, their relationships with each other, what they think and feel about each other, their hobbies, the media they consume, how the media they consume makes them feel, why they feel connected to certain pieces of media.

For my OCs that are artists, I have entire multipage Google docs about their art style. Same for my OCs that are musicians. My OC's a painter? I can literally write about individual paintings, the story behind them, the symbolism, etc. My OC's in a band? I can write about their whole discography, their stage presence, their performance style, different fucking eras of the band's career, line up changes, etc. I have literally written sheet music and tabs for songs that do not exist. My OC's a writer? I can write about their whole bibliography, common themes and motifs in their works, etc. Poet? I can write about their style, what movement they're inspired by/apart of, the structure of each poem, the context in which it fits into the character's life. I can write about what certain settings look like and how they make different characters feel. If my character has pets, I can write about their personalities, how they obtained those pets, how those pets feel about my character and their family members and friends. I can write scene summaries! I can write about what each character's personal style and aesthetic is and whether they prefer certain fabrics and textures over others. I can write about specific items in my WIPs, what they look like, where they came from, what they symbolize, etc.

But when I sit down to actually put all of it together, when I sit down to actually start writing a draft, it's like I don't really know how to write a fucking story anymore. I'm not sure if I ever did? I don't know how to fit all of this together.

My inability to produce the Untitled Metal Lords Fic I've been trying to write has nothing to do with whether Alice fits into the universe or whatever the fuck. I know this because I've tried working on other stories. Short ones that I have no intention of posting or showing anyone. It's like I can write about my stories but not the stories themselves, and it's really fucking annoying.

#writer problems #writer's block

[jhallowell]

Final Assignment:

The Exhilarant Manifesto

Read and experience the thrill of life!

Throughout my entire blog you will find all kinds of exciting things that have come about from this semester. While looking over my entire Tumblr and trying to find the best unifying theme and or option that weaves my web of posts together, it became very obvious to me that the emotion of thrill is most common among my blog. Scrolling down my blog I noticed all kinds of energizing and fast paced feelings which completely contrasts from a more relaxed everyday type feeling that may come from someone else’s work.

My uplifting and over all promoting lively theme is projected as early as our first assignment About Me. When I look this post over, I visualize the vitality that comes from someone moving to a new state and starting new beginnings. There’s always some type of excitement in moving to a new area and creating a new and exciting normal for yourself. You can’t help but to think of all the new possibilities and opportunities heading your way, new friends, new hobbies, new school, new sites to visit, etc. You read about me moving here to Florida and then I go on to talking education which is also a completely new and exciting aspect in life. Staying competitive throughout school in order to quickly get into the FSW dental hygiene program and the excitement that hides behind that door that has yet to open. This exhibits my theme from the swiftness of going through school and straight to where I want to be in life.

Moving to the next example in my blog I see our module two assignment which consists of depicting a piece of art work. The one I chose is a woman who is sitting on a staircase who seems to be pondering in her life. The glass of wine sitting in her hand is symbolic of the overall theme of my blog, an energizing and paced life. This also represents partying and even clubbing which is super exciting and vibrant living. When you think of alcohol you can easily find it while clubbing being this woman is visibly young and more than likely interacts with other people her age in the night life scene. I see this and imagine the flashing spirited lights and loud music which instantly gets your heart beating faster. As I continue down my blog I come across the module three assignment which consists of analyzing a painting of never ending passageways of staircases, “Drawing for The Card Game” by artist Fernand Léger. The emotions the viewer may sustain from this painting is instant stimulation from not only your eyes but your brain. You immediately wonder how to overcome this staircase and are eager to find an exit or some type of explanation for your own personal satisfaction. The question of how to get out and the overwhelming senses that come from this is captured within my blogs theme. Moving onto module seven assignment which is to write your own climactic short story. Mine consists of a woman who moved to the big city to continue her passion in writing and to make it big. This move is very exciting and uplifting, though not only does the main character feels this but the reader themselves. Everyone hears NYC the big city that never sleeps. All the hustle and bustle of people trying to catch cabs to get where they need to be ontime and all the lights on the billboards, traffic, and constant people roaming the busy streets and sidewalks. Not only does the stories setting portray excitement and vitality but so does the climax of the story. The aspiring writer must work a usual 9-5 job to afford living before she makes it in the writing world. The theme of fast paced and vital living is portrayed when she realizes her alarm that’s supposed to wake her up for her first day of work never went off. She quickly gets up and runs around her NYC apartment and attempts to get ready quickly and then her oven which is warming her breakfast up goes up in flames. Reading this you feel emotions of shock and anticipation which furthers along my blogs constant theme. My last example of ecstatic and quick living themed blog is shown in module eight which is to list 6 songs that exhibits my musical theme. For example one of my songs is from the electric song genre, bulletproof by La Roux. This song is extremely tense and charged being this would be a song you could hear out in a club, somewhere where the atmosphere is invigorating to one’s senses, flashing lights, loud (electric) music, flooded with people who are all feeling the same sensations partying. While watching the linked music video to the song it shows the artist walking amongst striking geometric 3D objects and she is wearing bold makeup and clothing that portray her electric genre. The rhythm of the music is very electrifying with a tempo of 123 BPM. This song in all ways depicts my tumblr wall’s theme of an exhilarating and fast stride that could be someone’s life. My blog this semester overall differs/opposes any feelings or experiences that are pacifying and non-stimulating. Music, feelings, art, and thoughts all lean towards the electrifying and wild side of life.

[aquamarinescarlet]

The Psychology of Us

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.5k

Warnings: mentions of smut (nothing explicit)

Summary: It seems like you’ll never get the answers you want, but little did you know…

Author’s note: This is probably my favorite story yet. It got a little steamier than I originally planned, but I think it turned out okay. I hope the explanation makes sense, it’s something I do use in real life so I thought it’d be fun to write about. Anyhow, thank you for everyone who read, and have fun with the last part :D

Taglist: @helloalycia @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @trikruismybitch @b0mbdotc0m @ima-gi--na-tion @cristin-rjd @arealearp @1-800-maximoff @zarriaza329

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

“I know, I know, I’ll be at your place at seven.” You said to Angie as soon as she reached you.

The hallway was packed, yet you were still able to notice her presence.

“About that,” she sounded unsure, “I came to tell you about this small gathering Pietro is doing at his place tonight, and I was wondering if you’d come with me?”

“So I can be a third wheel? No thank you.”

“He will have other friends over too, don’t worry.”

“Then why can’t you go by yourself?”

“Because I don’t know any of them and I don’t want to be there all by myself.” She reasoned.

“Just stick by Pietro and you’ll be fine.”

“Please!” She pleaded, giving you her best puppy eyes.

You weren’t opposed to the idea of going to Pietro’s house, a small gathering would be a nice change of pace from your usual Friday night parties. But your mind was in a different place right now and a party wasn’t exactly on your plans. You couldn’t say no to her though, maybe you could sneak out early, who knows.

“Fine, I’ll go.” You gave in.

She cheered, hugging you eagerly, and walked away before you could change your mind.

It was Friday again and you were still stuck on the girl and her puzzle. You’d seen her seven more times in the past two weeks. Now you had compulsively read eight books in the span of one month. Eight books all due to her, it was more than Diego reads in the same time.

Even your family was starting to question this sudden new hobby. Aalways keeping yourself locked in your room or with your nose deep down into a different book wasn’t normal.

Despite that, you were no closer to solving the mystery that was the girl from the library. She refused to give you her name when you asked her for it. She refused to explain the logic behind her recommendations. She just had fun watching you drown in frustration.

You were close to giving up, to start avoiding her until you forgot completely about the whole situation. But you enjoyed these moments. You were excited at the prospect of seeing her, not that you’d ever admit it out loud.

Of course, all this excitment died down the moment she started to mock you for nothing, with that annoying smirk painting those perfect stupid lips of hers, growing your desire to wipe it off of her.

There was something, though, that caught your attention, something about the books she recommended. You enjoyed them, you savoured every story, every plot, every character. Diego always tried to get you to read some of his favourite books and you gave up after a few pages. But not these ones, you liked them, and you had to figure out what kind of spell she used to make you like them so much.

“I think I’m going insane.” You muttered while staring at the ‘map’ you had created on your bedroom wall.

It contained post-its, notes, the title of all eight books and the answers that earned you each recommendation. A pathetic attempt to find a connection between this whole thing.

“You are getting too worked up on this, I mean, look at your wall,” Diego, who had been hanging out with you this afternoon, gestured towards it, “it looks like something right out of a detective movie.”

“It’s not that bad,” you said exasperatedly, “I just need to figure this out.”

“Okay, two things,” he put up both his index and middle finger, “first: it is that bad, it’s just a bunch of books; and second: why are you so desperate to figure this out?”

“I’m not desperate,” you argued.

“Yes, you are.” You heard him mumble.

“And aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

“Not that curious.”

“I just want to prove her wrong,” you explained.

“Because you care about what she thinks?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“No, I-”

“Look,” he interrupted, “I know you. I’ve known you for a long time. You have never been one to care about what other people think of you. So why her?”

“I-,” you were at a loss for words.

Why did you care? It bothered when she insulted you, even though you knew it wasn’t true, and you’ve never been bothered by such things before. It bothered that she knew nothing about you and still had the nerve to deem herself better than you, even though this was all the more reason to not care about her opinion at all.

Was it really a bother though? Or was that just an excuse? And if it is an excuse, then what were you excusing? Why were you still doing this? You’ve been dragging this out for a month. Why were you so keen on proving her wrong after all this time?

You don’t need to prove to her that you’re smart: you get good grades, you’re the captain of the football team, you even have a scholarship in one of the best colleges in the area. Of course she doesn’t know any of this, but that’s not enough motivation for you to spend a month trying to prove her she’s wrong about you.

For all you know that crazy scheme of hers to recommend books could be fake. She could just recommend books she likes and hide the reasons behind those questions. But then why did you enjoy those stories? And why would she put up a whole facade to recommend some books to a random stranger she met in a library?

“Do you like her?” Diego’s voice brought you out of your own thoughts.

The look you gave him was one of disbelief. You almost wanted to laugh at his words.

“Like her? How can I like someone who pisses me off so much?”

“Then why do you keep going back?”

“Why I- because- I- I’m curious.” You didn’t sound as confident as you wished. It wasn’t a lie. You were curious. But curiosity was not the only reason you kept going back, although you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

“I don’t believe you.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know how to answer. Thankfully you didn’t have to when, with a quick glance at the clock, you were able to change the subject.

“We’re late.” You simply stated.

“For what?”

“I told Angie I was going to meet her at her place at seven,” you gestured towards the time, “it’s seven thirty.”

“I didn’t agree to this.”

“C’mon, please,” you pleaded, “it’s going to be a small, like, get together or something, and I know Angie will leave me alone at some point to makeout with her boyfriend.”

“Okay fine,” he gave in and you made a little celebratory dance, dragging him out of the house.

Since this was supposed to be casual and between friends, you didn’t waste any time at Angie’s, where you’d usually spend hours getting dressed and ready.

Pietro’s place wasn’t far, which you were slightly thankful for since Angie wouldn’t stop talking about him the whole ride. He’s such a good kisser. He’s so cute. Did you know he plays soccer? He looks so hot in his uniform… You love your friend, but that’s just too much.

As always you weren’t the first one’s, and by the amount of people it was far from a “small gathering between friends”. The apartment wasn’t small, but sure felt like it with the almost fifty people crammed in there.

You were greeted by Pietro himself, who offered you each a beer before pulling Angie in for a kiss, causing you and Diego to roll your eyes. You gladly took the beer, if you had to endure this, might as well have some alcohol to help.

Two beers later and your mind was no longer fixating on the girl-from-the-library problem. Instead you were having a friendly debate with some of Pietro’s friends about which college was the best, the typical rivalry. Having only Angie to back you up was making the whole thing harder.

“Hey Piet,” a tall blonde boy called out, interrupting the conversation, “is Wanda going to join us?”

“Doubtful, you know how she is…”

“Who’s Wanda?” Angie’s voice was laced with jealousy causing the boy to laugh dramatically, which only seemed to make her madder.

“She’s my sister, don’t worry,” he reassured her. It made sense, he had mentioned he lived with his twin sister.

You watched as he pulled Angie away from the group, probably to makeout, as you had predicted, and you looked at Diego, to stop him from commenting anything, only to find his place empty.

You left the group as well to search for him, and was surprised to find him shoving his tongue down some girl’s throat. You could’ve left them alone? Yes, you could. But did you? Of course not.

“Y’know,” you tapped on his shoulder, earning his attention, “when I bring you to a party so I can have someone when Angie left me, I expect you not to leave me as well.” You teased.

“Shut up.” He tried to sound serious, but the smirk gave it away.

“You owe me one.”

Feeling a sudden need to go to the bathroom, you let them be and went in search of one. You opened a door you thought led to a bathroom, but found yourself in a corridor which had other four doors that probably led to bedrooms, at least one must lead to a bathroom.

“Pietro, I already told you, keep that door closed!” You heard someone scream from one of them.

It wasn’t just anyone though. That was a voice that had been haunting you for a whole month now. Okay, haunting was an exaggeration, but still. You quickly closed the door, muffling the music and chatter.

As you rested your back against the wall, a surge of power took over you. The new information taking over all your thoughts. You had the upper hand now on this little game of hers. It was your turn to play.

Her door was easy to identify, being the only one with light seeping through the cracks, and you made no effort to be quiet or discreet when opening it.

She was sitting in her bed, long red hair loose over her shoulders, a book in hands. Her expression was soft despite the interruption, she hadn’t looked up, so she had no idea it was you who was standing there.

“What do you want Piet?” A mischievous smirk grew on your face.

“Wanda,” you uttered as if trying it on your tongue for the first time, earning the girl’s attention.

The shock that took over her features did wonders to your confidence.

“A beautiful name,” you continued, daring to take a few steps inside her room, “I see you favourite color is red,” you referred to the endless amount of details on her walls, shelves, bedsheets, all a different shade of red.

You walked further into the room, exploring everything in sight. She followed your every move with her eyes, too stunned to say anything. Were you crossing a line? Probably. Should you be invading her personal space like that, without a warning? Probably not. But she has been invading your personal space for weeks, so you couldn’t care less.

“Ah, you play the guitar,” you grazed your fingers over the instrument sitting on the corner of the room, “I didn’t think you had any talents other than insulting me for no reason.”

You were enjoying this too much. Your eyes landed on some pictures and notes clinging to a wall.

“Sokovia,” you said after reading one of the notes, “so you are Sokovian, that’s interesting.” Your gaze fell to her desk, a pile of textbooks stacked there. “Psychology,” you laughed, not because it was funny, but because it was going to piss her off even further, “you are more likely to drive your patients crazy than to actually help them.”

“How…,” you turned towards her, “did you…,”

“Get in here? Learn your name?” You offered some suggestions since she didn’t seem capable of finishing that sentence herself. “Pietro.” You simply stated and watched as her face went from stunned to mad.

“How do you know my brother?”

Was that jealousy you were sensing? Or was she just upset that he had told you stuff about her? You decided to play with it a little bit.

“He is a sweet boy isn’t he? So hot and so nice,” you teased and she advanced towards you, making you a little frightened, but not enough to back down, “it’s hard to believe you two share the same genes.”

Your face was mere inches from hers and you suddenly felt like the air was growing thick, making it hard to breathe. A feeling of warmth taking over your chest and stomach. In spite of all the discomfort, you managed to keep your composure.

“I so want to wipe that pretentious smirk off of your face right now,” she growled. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Why don’t you?” You challenged.

Football had given you fast reflexes (except for that particular event a few weeks ago), you were ready to catch her hand if she tried anything. Instead of her fist or her palm, you were met with her lips attacking yours furiously.

The kiss was needy, hungry, desperate even. Your hands made their way to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. It was a battle, a fight neither of you were willing to lose. Tongues fighting for dominance, teeth biting lips, jaw, neck, hands pulling on skin in such a way it would definitely leave marks.

Clothes fell to the floor as you backed her to her bed, pushing her onto the mattress, this feeling, a necessity for her, on the pit of your stomach growing ever more.

Safe to say your plans of leaving early were postponed. At some point during the night you had managed to find Diego and let him know you wouldn’t be needing a ride back home. Your disheveled state and red marks, which were already showing up on your neck, didn’t go unnoticed by him, but he didn’t have time to comment on it. You mentally dreaded the moment he would start with the questioning.

Some shifting on the bed caught your attention. Slowly opening your eyes, you were able to catch Wanda staring at you with a soft smile. Your back was facing her, so she didn’t know you were awake, but you could see her clearly from her bedroom mirror.

And what a sight it was.

“You’re staring.” You called out, and watched her face turn three shades redder out of embarrassment from being caught.

You turned around so you’re now facing her, although she wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“What’s on your mind?” She kept quiet. “Okay, wanna know what’s on my mind?” She nodded lightly. “Well, I’m thinking that I would have never, not in a million years, pegged you as being shy.” She tried to stifle a laugh while bringing her hand up to playfully hit you on the arm. “That’s more like it,” you teased.

“I’m not shy,” she defended.

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

“Because… “ she lost it mid sentence.

“... you’re shy and sweet, just like your brother said,” you recalled from the day you spent together in the arcade.

She hit you, yet again, on the arm, slightly harder this time, but not enough to hurt.

“Tell me this then,” you finally reached the topic that has been bugging you for weeks, “what was all this for? The mystery, the games?”

She fell silent, seemingly in deep thought and you got scared you had killed the moment.

“Okay, so maybe I’m a little shy,” she admitted and you celebrated internally while your face remained unfazed, “and that makes me scared of…”

“Talking to people?” You helped out, but she covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

“Please, don’t laugh at me, I know it’s stupid-”

“It’s not,” you interrupted, uncovering her face, “go on.”

She took a deep breath before continuing.

“I’m scared of talking to people… especially people that I like.” Although it sounded like a confession, you weren’t exactly sure what it was about.

“So you liked me?” You asked in disbelief. “From the beginning?”

Her already red face was growing darker by the second.

“I had seen you before, with Diego, in the library, always complaining, always stating how boring it was,” she shook her hands in the air for the purpose of drama, “and it was annoying, but it was also cute and- and I always wanted to talk to you, but I never found courage to do it.”

To say you were shocked at the new information was an understatement. She liked you all this time? And you just thought she hated your guts for no reason? Wow, that’s precious.

“Okay, so…” you tried to say in the stunned state you found yourself, “how- why- the- why did you do all that then?”

“Because I had like, this sudden flow of confidence, and since you had this cocky personality I thought you would like someone who was the same, so I said what I said, and I did what I did and-”

“I started to hate you.” The way you acted when you first met must’ve hurt her.

“Exactly, and I thought I had screwed up completely, until you showed up again, and my stupid brain associated that to the idea that the way I had acted worked. So I kept it up. A persona, in a sense.”

“What were you planning to do then? Keep that act up forever?” The question made her slightly frustrated.

“I don’t know, I didn’t think that far, I just enjoyed your presence, even though you still seemed to hate my guts.” You laughed and moved closer to her, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I did,” you whispered close to her ear, “I hated your guts, but I also enjoyed it, the games, the mystery, that’s why I kept coming back.”

“So it worked,” she said excitedly.

“It sort of did.” You stared into her green eyes, for a few seconds. “There’s something else in my mind too that I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Ask away.”

“So… about the recommendations-”

“Oh my god,” she didn’t let you finish, “you haven’t figured that out yet?!” She exclaimed in disbelief, when she opened her mouth again you knew what was coming.

“Don’t say it.” You warned.

“You really are slow.” She said it anyways, a mischievous grin painting her lips.

“Damn, I hate you,” you said jokingly, unwrapping yourself from her and making a move to leave the bed.

She stopped you short, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and pulling you back, causing you to fall on the bed laughing hysterically.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I won’t say it anymore.”

She let you go and sat up and across from you.

“Good, so are you going to explain it to me or not?” You questioned and she rolled her eyes playfully. “And don’t you dare tell me there is no logic behind it, there has to be one.”

“Yes, there is a logic,” she mocked, “it’s quite simple actually, the ‘color’ is what sets the mood for the book.”

“How so?”

“Uhm, like, we associate colors with stuff, like black is associated with death and evil and white is associated with peace and purity,” you nodded, “it also works for feelings, associating those with colors, so when a person says a color I can pick a book that has elements that are associated with that color, or that causes a feeling that we associate with that color.” She explained.

“That explains the psychology major thing.” She seemed happy you remembered, even though it was mere hours ago.

“Basically,” she agreed, “so, ‘person’ is what defines the relationships that surround the main character, so either romances, friendships, families, strangers, y’know?”

“Yeah okay,” you tried to follow along.

“And ‘place’ is to decide how far from reality the story should be, if the person says a place that’s close to their home, they tend to prefer stuff closer to their comfort zone, so no fantasy or sci-fi, and vice-versa.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep,” she beamed a smile, “simple isn’t it?”

“Does it always work?”

“No, it’s a really subjective thing, the more I know the person the better, but sometimes it just doesn’t work.” She admitted. “It worked on you like a charm though,” she teased.

“That it did,” you couldn't deny. “Okay, so if I got it right, color sets the mood, right?”

“Right.”

“Then what is red associated with?” You looked around her room, filled with several details in red.

“Anger, love, passion-,” she stopped talking when she met your eyes, a mischievous smirk on your lips.

You slowly rose from your position and crawled forward, never losing her gaze. You quirked an eyebrow suggestively as you got closer. You sat on her lap, faces inches from another.

“Well, I can show you some passion.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x reader #mcu #marvel #fluff #ittle bit of angst #wanda x you

[honklore]

would you consider doing an au where dream is a high school teacher (maybe a math teacher or english teacher or something?) and he has been crushing on his colleague, maybe an english teacher or an art teacher, and his friends have been teasing him quite a bit for it since he hasn’t had the courage to ask them out, which is quite weird considering he’s usually so confident, but it’s just a lot of flirting and shyness between the two until he final caves and asks them out? maybe even some of the students had begun to call him out on not acting on it? it’s perfectly okay if you don’t wanna do this but thank you for reading it :))

you + me = <3 | dreamwastaken

(math teacher!dream, gn!reader, dream likes u oooooh, cute kids, writer knows nothing about chess or how chess tournaments work, you requested high school but i can’t read so i chose middle school sorry!! this is literally nothing like you requested pls forgive me but i has fun, proceed with caution)

song to listen to: roadtrip by dream

i am setting the scene to say that teacher!dream is hot!!!! like, rolled up sleeves and leather watch kind of hot !!!!!!!

dream with fluffy waves that he sometimes ties into a bun if it gets too hot,,, brown roots and blond hair, brown eyebrows, forest green eyes,,,,,, freckles,,,,,

teaches middle school math!! very patient w his kids!!! but also has been known to go on tangents so long that they last until the bell rings

he’s the teacher whose classroom the weird/shy kids sit in at lunch

reads up on his students special interests and tries to ask them about it and encourage them

doesn’t make kids write out their entire process during testing bc he understands some students work in their head and can’t <3

works with different methods to help each kid learn math in their own way

the sweetest ever omg i can’t imagine a nicer teacher than dream

has a open-policy snack cabinet in case some of the kids can’t buy their lunch

has rlly cheesy anti bullying posters on his wall but actually talks to his students about it and makes sure they know he is someone they can go to

okay this is supposed to be a love story not an i heart teacher dream story sorry

you’re the art teacher of the middle school!!! you are also one of the favorites when it comes to teachers

dream is sort of a practical logical comforter and you’re a more dreamy, imagination-based comforter

so the kids ofc have their favorites

you’re a wonderful teacher !!!!

you let the kids use art class as a sort of art therapy, giving them time to do whatever they want with colors and mediums of their choosing

and assignments are usually fun!! you make it fun by giving them good topics that encourage them to express their opinions and personalities !!!

dream has the FATTEST crush on you

it’s so big and he’s very bad at hiding it

literally buys an extra coffee friday morning

slips into your classroom like “oh? hey ___ ? didn’t expect you to be here!!”

you: “in my own classroom?”

dream: “ANYWHO!! they messed up my order AGAIN and gave me a caramel frappe instead of a matcha so you can have it”

he does this every week

new excuses sometimes but it’s always ur favorite flavor, sitting right beside his matcha in a lil cup holder

dream is the type of guy to make sure your fingertips touch when he hands you your cup

so he can blush about it later and pretend it means something

any time he needs supplies or something he goes to you first instead of the communal supply closet

during his break he’ll come in and try to talk to you while your kids are painting

you sometimes sit with him during lunch!! and the kids that all sit in his classroom love you, even if they don’t have art

and every time you do he stutters over his own words and his neck gets rlly red

the kids all give each other side eyes when he does this

math kids 🤝 art kids : tired of witnessing dream’s bad flirting skills

dream brings you a cupcake on your birthday and a little necklace w a crystal on it :/

“i googled crystals for protection!! because i want u safe always!! and i made sure it was sustainably sourced!! let me know if you don’t like it!!”

how could you not like it :(

his eyes are wide and almost worried and when you give him a big smile he gets so happy like :((

your students are just. super still behind their easels hoping this is the moment you’ll actually kiss him

but no

it isn’t until a few of your kids come up one day and ask about forming an official chess club

they need at least one teacher willing to supervise and go on tournament trips and stuff

half of the team asks you and the other asks dream

but they don’t communicate that to each other

so it’s a saturday when both you and dream show up to the school in your casual clothes, unlocking one of the rooms for the kids to practice in

you help some kids set up while dream takes a few to the side and begins to teach them the basics, since not everyone who joins is an actual player

some just wanted to be w their friends ^u^!!!

but dream keeps catching your eye over the sea of middle schoolers and it makes your cheeks heat up whether u want them to or not

the two of you becoming the unofficial parents of the middle school chess team; you take turns supervising but usually both go to trips for tournaments!!

there are six students who make up the chess team + a few who just come for the snacks and respite

and your team is actually so good they qualify for state

and it’s going to be an overnight trip !!

some parents have also agreed to come chaperone

the team is so excited!!! the entire team got to go even though only a few are competing

theres a lot of lovely support going around

your kids are expressive and bright, all wearing special t-shirts they made that count as “uniforms”

they are twelve and dgaf about what ANYONE has to say

puffy markers and all

and before the tournament they surprise u and dream with ur own shirts :(( they are so sweet omg

and ofc you and dream wear them!!! fashion be damned!!!!!

the shirts are like MR WASTAKEN LOVES HIS CHESS TEAM

TEACHER ___ LOVES THEIR CHESS TEAM

AND THERES AN IRON-ON PICTURE OF YOU GUYS AND UR KIDS — EVERYBODY IS CHEESING AND ITS JUST SO SO CUTE

man they just look up to you guys so much

they really needed a place to fit in and your club gave them that

even the ones who are HORRIBLE at chess are sitting in the bleachers with you guys, cheering on their friends ><!!

it’s all so wholesome omg

and your team ends up qualifying !!!!!!!! it’s huge !!!!!!! you all go out for celebratory milkshakes sponsored by mr wastaken !!!!!

and everyone falls asleep with a big smile on their face that night

the next day is full of driving,, and you and dream share a lil seat at the back of the bus

all the kids are winding down, listening to music or playing games on their phones

and dream is so warm, shoulder pressed against yours when he hands you one of his earbuds and is like ,,,, do you want to listen to music with me?

and ofc you do

so the two of you take turns picking songs

dream adds them all later to a playlist called ___ and dream’s epic roadtrip playlist

now that interstate is paved with memories amirite?

once all the kids are picked up at the school, you are about to call your roommate to come pick you up

but dream is like. i can drive you home

dream is that guy who drives with one hand and keeps the other on top of the gear shift <3

you’re just excitedly recounting all the kid’s faces and all the silly stories you were told in the hotel when dream is finally at your apartment complex

and he just bursts

“i really like you”

and you’re just. stunned bc you knew he was fond of you but you never thought he’d be brave enough to SAY it

“i like you too dream!!”

“would it be too cheesy to walk you to your door and kiss you goodbye?”

“maybe... but i like cheesy.”

thank you for requesting!!!

#I fully believe dream is horrible at flirting #dreamwastaken au #dreamwastaken x you #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken fanfic #mcyt au #mcyt fluff #mcyt x reader

[thestarsarealigning]

Tortured artist vibes from the signs

Aries running through a storm, their friends roll their eyes and think Aries does it for the dramatic effect, but actually they do it to finally feel something, feel a lot, feel everything all at once again. Also, cutting off their ear (or other not-so-great coping mechanisms) because they cannot deal with their own mind telling them lies.

Taurus sitting on a swing set in the backyard of their grandparents, head upside down, looking at the clouds and at the upside-down meadow until they get dizzy. Taking forever on creative block, but then sitting down and finishing an amazing painting in one single 5-hour-session.

Gemini sucking on a pink lollipop and accidentally cutting their tongue on it, then sucking on their tongue. Assembling old figurines they found at antique flea markets. Walking around in an extravagant nightgown (or craving doing that, but they don't own the appropriate nightgown for afternoon promenades around the house).

Cancer crying in the bathtub (if they don't do it often enough, they will realize that they actually enjoy a good cry from time to time and that they miss it quite much to let go like that). Making inappropriate jokes about murder stories, especially about true crime. Finding inspiration in many things but not trusting their gut, because they think they want to be someone else, so they don't trust their own ideas even though those are so good.

Leo sitting in their perfectly decorated bedroom at their absolutely not tidy desk that shows the things Leo is passionate about in a very open, kind of in-your-face way. Writing bad poems and good lyrics to songs, but only being able to do good art as long as the passion that tortures them, fuels them.

Virgo feeling torn between a simple life in a cottage doing botanical illustrations, getting cooked for by their perfect fae wife, and dancing in fairy rings to eery harp music but kind of feeling alone out there and just not knowing if it's enough.

Libra thinking about joining a cult just for sociology research reasons. Thinking they are rational and reasonable all their life, until a lover with a bad influence sweeps them off their feet and makes them question everything they think they knew. Getting a taste for the new, the unknown, the forbidden. Can be dangerous.

Scorpio regularely thinking about trying magic mushrooms but then they just end up staying up late and turning on music and looking at themselves, naked, in the mirror, half of the night, contemplating between "I am a goddess, I am a diva" and "I am worth nothing, my soul is too dark for this world".

Sagittarius dancing slowly in the sunset light and feeling like everyone around is watching them (which they are absolutely doing). Feeling misunderstood while having lots of people ask every day how they are, but they still don't feel like anyone could possibly bear with the truth. Believing in a god or an entity from above, but also unleashing them on their enemies with kind of a chaotic energy.

Capricorn dark circles under their eyes, they stand up early, go outside with a cup of tea, stand in the frosty grass and kind of enjoy the cold creeping up their legs. They find inspiration in sounds, in scents, in colors. No one appreciates their art in a way they think appropriate, although still, everyone appreciates it, and not every artist can say that about themselves.

Aquarius showing their frustration or lack of inspiration in an unusual way, Aquarius send all of their action and passion into being lovers. Sometimes lovely and romantic and almost perfect, sometimes tragic and melancholic and with torn-apart hearts, they try to hold onto the people that make them feel the hardest, to get themselves to draw new inspiration from every meet-up, every heartbreak, every new kiss.

Pisces painting on their own legs with watercolor, dreaming about being far away, or back home, or with someone they miss. Quietly breaking inside when they feel like they're not giving enough. Producing beautiful, meaningful artwork but not being able to see the worth of it themselves. Feeling a shimmer of hope on every new morning though.

#tortured artist #art #art meme #Zodiac #Zodiac signs #The stars are aligning #Astro #Astro daily #Astrology #Astrology blog #Astrology daily #horoscope #Weird horoscope #Strange #Wonderful #unusual horoscope #vibes #aesthetic #Today's horoscope #Daily horoscope #November days #what does my sign say about me #Sun sign #Star sign #weird vibes #witch #witch energy #artist #zodiac #fortune

[charcubed]

hey char, mind to share your fave stevebucky headcanons? 👀

Oh I LOVE that you asked me this :’)  Thank you!

I honestly have so many if I really think about it because I love them so much and I think about their dynamic so much that I have so many favorite things... but here is what I think of off the top of my head:

• Steve was color blind before the serum, according to canon. I have a headcanon that Bucky used to try to describe colors to him. I wrote a mini fic about that here.

• Bucky was drafted for the war, but didn’t tell Steve. Steve sort of assumed that Bucky enlisted, and Bucky never wanted to correct him. How could he? Steve wanted to enlist so badly, and Bucky didn’t ever feel like he could admit that he didn’t have the same drive to want to ~fight for the country~ like Steve did. He didn’t want to disappoint him and he was afraid Steve would think he was a coward. So Bucky just... never told him that he was forced into war. It was never his choice to fight for the country. If it was up to him, they would’ve stayed home together and stayed safe and never fought at all.

• They were always physically rough with each other, in the sense that they'd wrestle as boys all the time, and Steve loved that Bucky never treated him as fragile. Buck knew he could take it. Even after the serum, they'd still scuffle a bit like kids, finding a bright spot in a war-torn world. They’d be awake in the trenches on lookout, having soft conversations in the night, and shoving each other after one says something stupid or makes a bad joke.

• Steve is bi, and Bucky is gay. Bucky was consciously aware of his feelings for Steve way, way before Steve was aware of his for Bucky. In the 30s, Bucky has a bit of a reputation for ~dating around,~ but not in a rude ladies’ man kind of way but rather his reputation is “Bucky Barnes is a real charmer. He’ll show you a good time and he’s really sweet, but he never pushes your boundaries.” Some women wishes he’d push their boundaries, but he doesn’t. He’s taken so many women out on dates because he never lets it get super serious, since they’re not who he wants and it’s mostly for appearances’ sake, especially since he and Steve live together. He definitely enjoys hanging out with women, and treating them nice, but most of the time his motivation is to try to set up double dates–half because Steve deserves to find a great girl to date, and half because a double date means Bucky can selfishly do a date activity “with” Steve and not have it mean anything. Meanwhile though, Steve gets jealous as hell and testy about Bucky dating all the time, but he’s oblivious to the fact that it’s because Steve wishes Bucky would be with him instead.

• Their first kiss was when Steve was 16 and Bucky was 17. I’m not necessarily saying that’s when they actually got together, but something significant happened between them at those ages... maybe they kissed because they were drunk, or it was so Steve’s “first kiss” would be someone he knew and it was for “practice.” And then they both never talked about it again, because they’re idiots and were afraid to ~ruin things~ between each other. That’s why Steve says “Rumlow said ‘Bucky’ and all of a sudden I was a 16-year-old kid again, in Brooklyn.” That’s why “seventeen” is one of Bucky’s trigger words as the Winter Soldier. It checks out, because Bucky is a little bit older than Steve.

• Steve doesn’t fully admit the depth of his own feelings for Bucky to himself until he finds out Bucky’s been captured by HYDRA. And then he tears Europe apart to get him back. He’d have done that anyway, obviously, but... the prospect of losing Bucky forever is really what makes him realize how much he can’t handle that concept. Because he’s in love with him.

• After Bucky “dies,” Steve gets more reckless, and that’s part of the reason he put the plane in the ice and didn’t try to survive: he didn’t want to live in a world without Bucky in it. This is supported by canon. And so I headcanon that, after Steve finds out about the Winter Soldier, one day he abruptly realizes that he could’ve died in that plane crash and never known Bucky was alive and brainwashed and suffering. He thought Bucky was dead and he wanted to follow him, and he could’ve left Bucky even more alone in the world without knowing it. When Steve realizes how close he came to leaving Bucky behind like that, he throws up. It horrifies him to think about it.

• They each have a pair of dog tags where one says “Steve Rogers” and one says “Bucky Barnes.” They swapped one tag each, so that they’d have a matching set, because while they couldn’t list each other as “next of kin,” they wanted tangible evidence that would show other people how important they are to each other. So people would know: tell him if something happens to me.

• Their Brooklyn accents come out / get heavier around each other, especially if they’re bitching about things or arguing.

• Bucky is a complete sci-fi and fantasy nerd–which is now confirmed canon, and I love it. In particular, I like to headcanon that he loves to read paperback sci-fi novels, and discount romance novels. He unironically enjoys them, and he leaves them allllll over the place. One of the things they love to do is Bucky will sit around and read while Steve will sit around and draw/paint, and half the time Steve gets distracted sketching Bucky’s facial expression he makes while he’s reading.

• Bucky is also a pop culture gremlin. He will try and often get interested in pretty much anything and everything, without rhyme or reason. In modern day, he and Nat will watch trashy reality TV together–sometimes to make fun of it, sometimes to get invested. Steve thinks they’re insane for that. And sometimes Bucky will like one niche thing but then for very specific reasons he dislikes another similar thing. It makes sense to him, even if Steve doesn’t get it.

• Steve tends to be pickier with the kind of stuff he enjoys. He’s always had Strong Opinions™️ on everything, including and especially art. Put him in a museum and he’ll have a lot of thoughts on all of it. He doesn’t judge things or hate on other people for liking things he doesn’t like at all, but he won’t get hooked on a movie/show quite as easily. The one exception is animation, which he absolutely adores, and he goes on a wild binge of all kinds of animated content for awhile–shows and movies–because the various art styles and uses of the medium to tell crazy stories just fascinates him.

• Easy access to so much music is one of their mutual favorite things about the 21st century. Bucky often gets into individual artists’ entire discographies and becomes a fan, whereas Steve often gets into a handful of specific songs from a wide range of various people. Like... Bucky will often love an entire album, and Steve will often love 2 songs specifically more than others. But even with that, Steve loves collecting vinyl records–both old and new ones.

• Bucky has a fantastic singing voice even though he’s shy about it, and he tends to hum along to music when distracted or working on something else–especially while making something in the kitchen. 

• Bucky likes technology more than Steve; Steve likes physical stuff more than Bucky. Bucky loves to take photos and videos of things all the time, hoarding digital memories in a way that’s precious to him, knowing that they’re “safe” and accessible anywhere. They lost so much of the objects that they loved a century ago, and photos were scarce, but now... there are endless ways to have pictures. When Bucky was recovering in Wakanda and Steve was on the run, Bucky would often text Steve photos–sometimes without captions–to wordlessly share bits of his days with him. He’s got a good eye for photography, except for when he takes the photo equivalent of shitposts to make Steve laugh. Regardless, Steve gets his favorites printed–some of Bucky’s photos, some of his, some of their selfies–so they also always have something tangible to hold onto.

• Bucky calls Steve “sweetheart” sometimes, just to be a little shit–and he means it. It makes Steve turn red every time, without fail, but he secretly doesn’t mind it.

Okay I’ll stop hahaha. Those are the main ones that come to mind for me all the time when I think of them! 

Thank you again for asking :D  This was so fun to write all in one place!

#anonymous #asks #stevebucky #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #headcanons #literally sat here and spent like an hour writing this. like it's 2017 again. NO remorse! a nice way to wind down my evening #char writes things

[artie5o5]

I See You In Every Shard of Glass | Short Story Update #1

Logline: A 19 year old girl is forced to think back on the whimsical, romcom relationship with her high school ex boyfriend when he suddenly shows up at her window at midnight, and come to the realisation... that maybe... her memory of the whole relationship might have been distorted

Literal logline: looks like we girlbossed too close to the sun galpals!! so now we must gaslight ourself into thinking life is good

Story's vibes: I wanted it to be dreamy, floaty, whimsical- but I don't think i achieved that. It's more snarky, bitter, and romanticised

Setting: Unnamed US town

Genre: Contemporary

POV: 1st person, shift between 1st person present and 1st person retrospective

Word Count: 7086

Inspiration: Taylor Swift's iconicTM song "Style"

I've been listening to that song literally half my life but somehwere around last year I was like hmmm... this is a good story. So I took the first words "Midnight. You come and pick me up no head lights" and ran from there. But somewhere along the line the story got 🔥really🔥fucked🔥up🔥🔥🔥

Characters:

"I"

19

Soft hands, pink, white, floral, fairy lights on her bedroom wall

The popular girl in high school who stayed behind at home instead of going to a fancy college

Hopeless romantic

Romanticises ✨everything✨

Was a friend of the popular girl in high school, thus popular by proxy

One of those girls in high school who were known for their relationship drama with that hot guy

Now is just terribly, unfathomably lonely because all her friends left town for college

A little bitter

And I personally don't like her

Like there's just something about her. I can't put my finger on it

I just don’t like her

"Him"

20

Lether jackets, cigarettes, maroon maserati, black mustang

Trip Fontain, Slick black hair, sharp edges,

smell of whiskey and ashes clinging to cologne

Impeccably pretentious taste in music

Kiss, Aerosmith, Arctic Monkeys, Bon Jovi, Pink Floyd

Would make you feel like you're the only thing worth seeing in the world, the prettiest, most wonderful girl ever to exist

Would definitely sell you for a pack of cigarettes

Sally

19

THAT girl

Instagram aesthetics

YouTubr Vlogs, Instgram stories, Instagram reels - Painted in pastel

Confident, extroverted, can take over your world,

Takes no shit, puts you in your place

Filmmaker, artistic

Never shown in page, only in retrospect

What's it about?

CW: Date Rape??

Our unnamed narrator used to be the introverted friend of the extroverted friend, Sally. And thus she went from being popular by association to a terribly lonely college kid after Sally goes to attend ucla film school. Unable to make new friends, and all her high school friend haven gone to out of state private universities- she wanders around time like the phantom of opera. Big relate.

Until... her high school on-again-off-again shows up at her window, asking her to go for a long drive to nowhere.

Despite her better judgement she decides to go. Sitting shotgun in his convertible she rethinks on their relationship. But at the end of the night comes to a crude realisation that she might have been in denial about the actual nature of what they were...

This story was so hard to write despite knowing *exactly* how the story goes - All I had to do was to write down the plot of Taylor Swift's song "Style" beat by beat. Starting with him coming to pick her up at midnight and ending in his apartment.

But for some reason the imagary kept changing in my head. Like I just kept seeing a lake??

Even then, I was like alright - instead of going to his apartment we're going to a lake. It's alright. It's gonna be a story about a bad relationship, maybe bad sex. It takes place over One (1) night. Max 4000 words. It won't be hard. You can do this, Artie!

But noooo...

It was so. Hard. To write. Instead of writing straight ahead till the end I kept meandering, running in circles - writing about unrelated stuff. The writing itself was coming out so horrible - at times I felt like I was shitting through my fingernails on the keyboard.

I think my problem began when I realised it's not gonna end in bad sex but something much worse and I was just dreading writing that scene. I was really, really afraid to write that scene.

I never experienced anything like that, thankfully. So I was genuinely afraid of portraying it in a wrong light or leaving scopr for victim blaming in any way. I just didn't think I was a mature enough writer to handle the subject material respectfully. And about 5000 words of meandering and Months waster - I just put my hands up and quit

But then in December I opened the doc and read the stuff I had written so far and realised - it wasn't as bad as I had thought XO What I had thought was me rambling was just - story - the fictive past. You *can* in fact write stories with two timelines running through each other. It doesn't necessarily make it bad.

I had vowed then I'd finish it before the end of 2021

Spoiler Alert: I didn’t.

What really helped me was this video by @coffeeandcalligraphy

I realised that I had 11 short stories just lying around unwritten. Oops!

And I thought this would be a great way to finish them

So I started opening the doc like once a day. But I just. Couldn’t write.

But this time I had a deadline.

After 20th January, I kinda started to retype what i had written in a separate doc and that actually helped

I retyped all of 5000 words over 2 days and something just clicked. That's when I came up with the title. It was just titled "Style" previously.

I basically just edited and polished the story as I retyped but I hit another wall when I came to the end of the document- again, I didn’t know how to continue

Where I had left off, originally, was THE scene, right before shit was about to go down in the fictive past - where She is dancing with him in a baseball field to "I was made for loving you" (That song has a huge Lux Lison/Trip Fontain vibes to me for all the wrong reasons)

After staring at the blank doc for a while I realised - wait, weren't they listening to Aerosmith this whole time? Then why'd a KISS song start playing all of a sudden??

So I changed the song to Crazy by Aerosmith

So I was staring at the screen, half listening to the song - when the lyrics floating in my ear

That kinda loving makes me wanna pull down the shad

And I thought... point. He does want to pull down the shade and get to business

That kinda loving... now I'm never ever ever gonna be the same

I was like... point. She's never gonna be the same after this.

And then the bridge came on...

I need your love, honey... I need your love

You turn me on

Then you're gone

Girl you drive me crazy

And oh god it clicked!

I DON'T HAVE TO WRITE ANYTHING DETAILED AT ALL

I could just write their interactions before and after the fact. Skipp the gore entirely

That way there's no way for me to fuck it up or be disrespectful!!

It was 4 in the morning by then, however. So I went to bed.

Here are some excerpts from the finished draft

This is my original work so treat it gently. Do not plagiarise please uwu

When I could find time, I walked around the mundane streets of our neighborhood, passed the same houses that we grew up around, that I've seen every single day of our lives - walked past the same malls and grocery stores that I know the ins and outs of like the palm of my hand, sat at the same diners and coffee shops that we used to visit as high schoolers. I felt translucent. Floating through air, invisible as a ghost.

I can't say big relate because I litetally never get out of my house.

But I do aspire to go out more and be a ghost

I remember the night in vignettes. In little snippets from some half-remembered dream. I remember Aerosmith blaring through his car radio, I remember standing up in my seat with my hands on the windshield, my hair blowing back in the wind like I’m in a music video -I remember hysterical laughter,  perfect teeth, I remember him pulling me down, saying that I’d shoot out of the car. I remember telling him he’ll crash the car and thinking if I died tonight, I’d be happy.

Is this like realistic? That she remembers everything before the fact and everything afterwards but not the fact itself?

Okay, this next scene is like my absolute favourite

So instead of an excerpt I'm dumping the whole scene!!!

He parked in front of a winding path in the woods. I looked around and I had no idea where I was. He sat back in his seat and looked at me. 

 “Did you miss me?” He said

Be still my beating heart, don’t ruin this for me.

“No” I said.

 “Did you think of me?” 

I thought of you every single day that I walked past a McDonald’s or every time I saw a baby crying. I thought of you every time I saw a sunrise or a sunset. I thought of you every time I listened to Aerosmith.  Every time I smelled ash and alcohol, I thought of you. Every time I saw a fire, every time I lit a candle. 

“Umm..” I said, faking thoughtfulness with a smirk on my lips. “Not really.” 

“That’s a tragedy, isn’t it?” He leaned in so close I could feel his breath on my face.

“Is it?” I said, “I mean..” My voice faltered.

“Your hair smells nice.” His was low, close to a whisper. 

“Thanks.” I nervously ran my hand through my hair. “It’s the shampoo...” 

He kissed me. As naturally as breathing. 

Like gravity, like water running downstream, I kissed him back. I knew the taste of him like the taste of apple custard and strawberry pie my grandma used to make when I was a child. Kissing him was like brushing my teeth or sipping my morning coffee - I could do it half asleep, I could do it blind. Like an old habit you just went through the motions, because it was yours. 

When he broke away I could see the string of saliva connecting our mouths. He looked at me with his lips still parted, eyes dreamy. “There’s a lake here I want you to see.”

The scene after this one is also sooo beautiful. But it's a big longer so I'll just not make you go through it for the sake of my vanity.

I'll just post the last paragraph how that ✨beautiful✨mesmerising ✨ moonlight glinting off Cinderella's glass slipper✨ scene ends

I was on my back. He was on top of me. His breath was stinging like sharp icicles on my neck. His hand left my chest and I heard him unzip. I sucked in my breath involuntarily. I don’t know if he saw the terror in my face but it must’ve been there - he smiled at me and his smile was kind and beautiful, his teeth flashed like sharp razor

Ouch.

She literally goes somewhere inside her mind and starts thinking about the last time she saw him - the "I remember the night in vignettes" scene. And finally realises that the beautiful night wasn't so beautiful after all.

I finished this draft on January 30th.

Writing it felt so cathertic for some reason. I don’t know if I did a good job. But I'm just proud that I finished it.

I'm really excited to start the next story. For some reason the next short is equally as fucked up as this one. Like 9/11 of those stories are. So. Messed. Up.

I'm very achingly new on Tumblr. I only recently started to log in regularly. And I have Zero (0) irl writer friends. So I'd really *Love* to have some online writer friends I can talk to, maybe hopefully even workshop together, be critique partners stuff like that

If you like my ✨vibes✨ I'd really appreciate if you interacted with this post so I could follow you!

I'm going to try and write one short story a month, and write them fairly clean. My college load is also pretty low right now, so I'd be (hopefully) posting here semi-regularly.

I'm a 20 year old Computer Science and Engineering student. My name is Artie. And I'm just glad to be a part of this community.

#I See You In Every Shard of Glass #Overture #writing update #author #writers #writing #wip #wip intro #current wip #short story #collection #short story collection #writeblr #excerpts from my writing #excerpt from a book i'm writing #Youtube #prelude