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predestinatos · 5 months

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love me down? — CL16 𓍢ִ໋ ᰔᩚ

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: it's time to confront feelings over mcdonald's and a beach view

word count: 4k

tags: a bit angsty not gonna lie, vulnerable!charles is so interesting to write, finally they get it together (kind of), smut at the end - absolutely filthy btw.

minors dni ──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !! warnings & note underneath

note: so so sorry for the delay in updates! i've been busy on my dissertation, staying home alone for a few days and traveling along with writing some articles for my uni newspaper so things have been crazy here. but i appreciate all the support and patience.

warnings: rough sex, kitchen sex, spit is involved, charles is very... domineering

“Thank you” you smiled softly to the girl handing you the McDonald’s bag and the two big cups of coke, which you promptly asked for Charles to hold as you proceeded to drive away.

Your hands gripped the stirring wheel as you drove – upon Charles’ insistence that he wanted to see you doing it, and also because it would raise less suspicion and attention if you both did so. The night was calm and slightly warm, allowing for the windows to be opened and the breeze ran through your hair wildly.

You felt his gaze on you, noticing how he stared unapologetically at you from the corner of your eye, a warm smile plastered across his face, his eyes half open – details that you didn’t notice but knew, out of the sheer amount of time you were now spending together, his expressions becoming familiar and recognizable, like a painting you hang on your bedroom and see every morning when you wake up.

“Stop staring, it distracts me,” you said jokingly, your shoulders tensing as you smiled shyly and tried to fix your hair with one hand, the other remaining on the wheel. “Now you know how I feel” he replied, popping a French fry in his mouth.

You allowed yourself half a second to look at him with confusion, your eyebrows furrowed as you moved your head questioningly. “What do you mean?” you asked, as you opened your hand towards him and demanded for him to give you a french fry.

“I mean when we all hang out and you sit at the back of my car and all I can see is you from the rearview mirror” he replied, his arms stretching towards your mouth instead of your hand, placing the food in it carefully. You knew the order of these actions was deliberate – first he admitted to something, then he would shush you somehow, as if to let that admission disappear or go unnoticed, or for him to think of something to say that would somehow lessen it.

The cold tone of his eyes remained on you, however, letting silence fill the car, as you noticed you hadn’t put music on, relying on each other’s voices and company instead. With your mouth still half full, you kept questioning his attentive gaze: “we haven’t all hung out in your car in ages, though.” You swallow, hoping he understood what you said between chewing and speaking.

Charles laughed softly, both at your statement and at your attempt to multitask, which he tried to unconsciously replicate by removing the Coca-Cola cup from the bag without taking his eyes off of you. “I know,” he realized that was all he could say, and that it was enough for you to understand its underlying meaning.

You were now arriving at an empty beachside, one which both of you knew because that was where you spent your teenage years amongst the people you loved. “I thought you hated me though,” you said, more seriously than you intended, your hand on the gearstick as you moved it to reverse. He shrugged as he took his seatbelt off, placing one leg under the other one, his sweatpants revealing a comfort he had acquired with you over the past months. “I thought so too,” he replied, chuckling.

You turned the car off but didn’t find his tale all that amusing, how both your and his feelings were now drifting unknowingly and dissolving, getting harder to recognize and pinpoint.

Noticing your discomfort, Charles’ hand once again went through his hair, nervousness hard to disguise, his dark brown locks suddenly in a desperate need to be fixed. You grabbed your order from the bag placed upon his lap, unthinkingly. Months prior, just the idea of being in a car with him seemed ridiculously unrealistic, and now touching him was voluntary and thoughtless, which highlighted the contrast of your words.

“I’ve always found you attractive” his voice interrupted, as he took a bite of his cheeseburger. You reflected his movements, but looking at him, eyebrows raised and interest spiking. The short seconds he took to chew and swallow seemed like an eternity, the urge to hear him continue almost as big as his urge to keep talking. “Even when you annoyed the shit out of me” he laughed shortly, and this time you did too, your head rising towards the ceiling of the car. “It’s true! It just made you even more insufferable” he repeated, his free hand adjusting a lock of your hair behind you ear in caring amusement.

Your eyes met his as you took a sip of your drink, interrupting him before he went on a full monologue. “Thank you for the flattering confession,” you joked back, mimicking him by putting a lock of his hair behind his ear – an almost impossible task. “Come on, I knew you felt attraction towards me as well,” he tilted his head and leaned back, arms crossed smugly, trying to hide the slightly damaged ego. “You were alright,” your answer made him bring his hand to his chest dramatically, a comical expression screaming ‘how dare you’ in sheer playfulness.

“Grumpy men aren’t my type” you continued, placing a French fry in your mouth with feigned innocence. “Bratty girls aren’t mine either yet here we are” Charles replied, a soft gleam in his eyes as he looked at you, the breeze entering the car through the open window and touching his hair softly, daring to caress him when you couldn’t, wouldn’t.

Here we are. That sentence reverberated through your body like an enigma you couldn’t solve. Where exactly were you two? In a limbo of unspoken feelings and mere subtle hints of tenderness, an unbreakable vow of secrecy that can only be expressed through metaphors? In a car, desperate to feel each other’s devoted affection, yet refraining to do so, like a painting in a museum you can’t get too close to?

Charles knew he had said the wrong thing, or at least not the good enough thing for the moment. This back and forth used to be amusing and entertaining when nothing was at stake. But now it seems like both of you had gambled too much, and the few chips you had were holding you together at a table where whatever happened could not be seen as a victory.

He said the only thing that came to his mind at that moment. An earnest and genuine “I’m sorry” left his lips as he looked outside the window. You let out a breath, accepting the apology despite the fact that you didn’t quite know the reason for it. Was he apologizing for the comment that ignited this tension? For letting things spiral to this in the first place? You weren’t sure he knew it either, yet you knew he meant it enough for you to not hold it against him.

But maybe it was your turn to get into his head, as selfish as this sounded. You didn’t hold it against him but that didn’t mean you didn’t have half thoughts and half feelings to let out. “It was hard not being bratty with you,” you heard yourself say, as his head turned towards you. You forced yourself to hold his gaze, despite the fact that you felt heat rushing to your cheeks as you spoke. “You got under my skin like no one else. Still do,” you bit your lip, holding back a smile that threatened to creep up on your face. It was hard to hide your amusement at his own bewildered look, incredulous at what you had said could imply.

“You don’t know how many times I wanted to be alone with you” his voice, almost a whisper, traveled through the car along with the nightly air and the soft waves crashing far away. You swallowed dryly, despite the cold cup resting between your legs and the comfort it could’ve provided you in a time like this.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, curiosity, or maybe sheer tension, filling your body as you felt him getting closer to you, closing the gap between both of your seats. “I did, eventually,” his breath hit your neck, his knowledge of this particular weakness of yours making you even weaker, realizing you gave him the power to get to you like this. His chuckle filled your ears and sent goosebumps throughout your body like an orchestra of sensations. “And it’s not like you made it particularly easy for me,” he continued, kissing your neck lightly enough to make your body shiver, his hand now resting on your leg and caressing it with sensuous ease.

“Really?” you played along, irony lacing your lips the way you both liked to play. “How come?” your voice broke upon the sentence as his murmur of affirmation to your question mixed with his kisses down your neck and his now tightened grip on your leg blurred your senses.

Before he could properly reply, your phone vibrated in your pocket, disrupting the tension building up between you two. You cursed under your breath as you pulled it out, reading the name on the screen and locking it again, deciding to reply later. “It’s my sister,” you say, even though you knew you needn’t justify yourself. Nevertheless, you did. You hoped he’d do the same in his own case.

“Oh, is everything alright? She’s in Austria, right?” he asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. You nodded in response. “Yeah, she’s alright. It’s a drunk selfie, I’ll text her later,” you laughed as you continued, your drink finishing just like his. He laughed, more to himself than to you, as he shook his head negatively. “That’s brave for a Linguistics student” he joked.

His words made you realize something, which you couldn’t help but point out to him, question him about. “How do you know those things? About my sister, I mean” you clarified, your eyes interlocked with his. “You’ve mentioned it sometimes when we all hung out,” he shrugged, the answer seeming so simple and uncomplicated, almost making you feel ridiculous for asking. Yet you stood, motionless. “I may seem annoyed, but I am listening, you know.”

You felt your body freeze at his words, a realization of something you had never considered before. Because it’s not only that he was listening; he remembered. Things you didn’t particularly say to him – in fact, you ignored him most times, only using the basic politeness when strictly necessary – were engraved in his mind when they did not have to be. They could’ve been mere writings on sand for him, ones which the sea would wash away carelessly, yet they weren’t.

And suddenly, you were tired. Of the breeze, of the jokes, of the hiding, of the unknown. Of crying, of laughing, of shrugging it off and trying not to think about it. Of the lack of answers, of the increasingly infinite number of questions. You’ve felt sadness, but now it was time for anger – unfortunately, you did not know whom to aim it at. To him? For not being able to admit the very same thing you couldn’t admit either? To yourself? For protecting your emotions from the person who has shown in the past his inconsistencies, his lack of commitment and emotional availability?

He felt it then. He did not know how or why – whether your breath give it away, how you blinked more rapidly than usual and your eyelashes seemed to bat away the painful realization – but he felt that if he did not do something, say something, before you did, all this would end. And in those brief seconds everything flashed before him: the endless amount of decisions and routes that he could take here, how it would be easy in the short term to accept what you had to say and let you drive him home, drink it away, fuck it away, text someone else, kiss someone else. But the long term painful knowledge of feeling your skin on his when he wakes up at 4am in your room, to witness your eyerolls when he jokes around, to witness your existence quietly – that suddenly felt unbearable.

Your fists were clenched in repressed anger, so were his, though the reasons differed – but the source of them didn’t. It had now become a race against time, daring each other to speak, to do something before the other did, scared of the words that might come out each other’s mouths.

You beat him to it – maybe the only game where you actually won, yet a victory that tasted as a loss, where the podium took more from you than it gave, no morning glory or praise in your eyes or his. “I don’t think I can keep doing this” was all you said as you forced yourself to look into Charles’ eyes, notice how you could tell something in him shifted despite his lack of movement. Despite the fact that he had seen in it coming, he couldn’t help but feel a sharpness in his chest that threatened to break his whole body apart from the inside out. He had nothing to lose anymore, and knowing this, he knew he had to at least put up a fight with himself.

“It’s a shame because I think I’m starting to get feelings for you,” he tried to act natural, almost slightly careless but it did not work, not when your eyes stared deeply into his, confusion written all over them. “I mean I can’t get you off my mind. These hang outs we have are all that I look forward to. I mean that I wish I could just tell you how much I crave your presence at every moment. That part of me feels such anger towards you precisely because you make me feel weak. I hate myself for feeling these things almost as much as I do for not expressing them to you earlier. And I care. I care so much I wish I could be brave enough to ask you to text me when you get home, when you wake up, when you go out. I want to talk to you or stay in silence or eat or do anything, I don’t fucking know what I’m saying but I want this to keep going and I am so fucking selfish for it, I know I am.”

Charles bit his lip, out of nervousness, anger, or sadness – neither of you quite knew. All you knew was that the words that came out of his mouth could never be unsaid, that whatever happened after this could never repair whatever dynamic you two had, and even though you both knew that the first time he stayed after your party, it was now a reality you had to confront.

“Don’t do this to me, Charles” you begged, your voice breaking slightly as it whispered his name, the taste of it so different from before, so foreign it seemed like you were calling someone else. “It’s really fucking mean of you to do this,” you continued, as your hand flew to the car key and started it, your intention to leave the conversation in the sand, let it be consumed by the sea, erased, cleaned.

You drove and drove, although you felt like the car was operating itself, your mind not as much on the way to Charles’ place but more on retracing the steps that brough you two here. He didn’t highlight his presence either. Both of you felt so insanely alone in that car it was almost maddening, a solitary confinement worse than any other punishment: being alone together.

And so when your car came to a halt in the parking lot and you inhaled deeply, accepting the fact that this was probably the last time you would ever have him like this, considering what you’d do differently had you known that when you woke up, he tried one last time.

His hand was so close to opening the door but refused to do so before both his body and his mind had the answer to the question that would solve it all. Every single one of his next movements would depend on how you replied, and he was, not for the first time, immediately aware of your control over him. “Knowing all this, knowing it would come to this in the end- would you have kicked me out of your apartment that night?”

For some inexplicable reason, you did not hesitate then. Your head moved, so slightly it could go unnoticed, in a nod. Then, as if you were watching your own self from afar, you nodded once more, clearly, affirmatively, and confidently, despite your runny nose and teary eyes. You adjusted your hair once again, the mess a reflection of your own thoughts and his – tangled and complicated.

Yet, your reply triggered all of Charles’ courage, made his words come out strong and reassuring at the same time, as he tried, not desperately but incessantly, to make you see what he couldn’t show. “Then why can’t we keep going? You want me to show you I need you, here I am. I need you. I need this, and this might be the most vulnerable I can be with you right now but I am trying. I’ll say it as many times as you want and I’ll leave if you want me to because that’s how much I need you. I need you so much I’m willing to let you go if that’s what you want.”

His reply made you feel your own heart speeding, its pace matching his, though you were both unaware of it. Your hands were shaking at the same rhythm as his hands, the ones that were now opening the door in defeat, but that were stopped by you gripping his arm, feeling him finally, pleading him to stay. He barely had the time to close the door again, leaving it ajar as he turned to you and felt your lips on his, soft and needy and begging for him to stay. He deepened the kiss hungrily, his teeth biting your bottom lip in confirmation of his presence before you.

Remembering where you two were, you pulled away, looking at his unusual post kiss expression. Although the red lips and blissed eyes remained, he was serious, rather than smug, questioning if this was a last goodbye or a beginning. You smiled to yourself at that, his innocent look when he lost control of a situation giving away his honesty.

The atmosphere was still tense despite the fact that the air had been cleared out by his words and the tears washed away by the foggy windows, yet you couldn’t help but bite your lip, holding back a laugh as you said, “so does this mean I have to cancel things with Oscar?”

Charles’ soft giggle and playful “fuck off” made you feel at home more than ever, as you knew now that he was comfortable with you holding that door. And as he stepped out of your car, he leaned down and popped his head in once again, teasingly asking you “want to come inside so I can answer that for you?” – to which you merely smirked as you removed your seatbelt.

As soon as the elevator doors closed and until you made all the way to the 16th floor Charles’ hands were on your waist, your legs, your chest, and everywhere possible, as he tried feeling all of you at once, greedily caressing your skin. You needed him just as much, your own arms around his neck as your hands pulled his soft hair, sometimes with enough strength his groan was audible, but so addictive you couldn’t get enough of it.

The elevator doors opened and somehow you made it into his apartment, not registering any inch of it – you had grown to know it all too well to have to look around for the last few months. With your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands holding you by your thighs, he took you to the closest spot he could find and placed you there, your ass suddenly feeling the cold surface underneath. Sitting on his marble kitchen counter, you watch as his attitude shifted back to the cocky and possessive one you knew so well. Charles didn’t hesitate to take his shirt off, followed by his sweatpants, which revealed everything already. However, the sight of his naked body between your legs drove you insane, your head spinning with the heat of desire. Completely naked, yet standing above you, his voice, so distinct from the soft and vulnerable from before, demanded: “take your clothes off”

You complied, never breaking eye contact as he fisted his own cock, its length making your mouth water and your entrance embarrassingly wet, yet that embarrassment quickly faded as his gaze lowered towards it, dark lust spreading across his eyes. Unapologetically, he eyes you up and down, eyes resting on your breasts, your nipples hard, your whole body giving away how delirious with desire you felt.

“God your body is insane” he started, his hand still on his erection, moving frantically and out of pace, trying to replicate the feeling of being inside you, yet unsuccessfully. You dropped your shy attitude, replacing it instead with a newly found confidence highlighted by the confirmation of his primal desires.

“Quit jerking yourself off and fuck me, Charles” your voice sounded aggressive and soft at the same time, and caught him so off guard you saw his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let out a ravenous growl.

Without warning, he pushed himself into you, burying his length deep inside your cunt, your wetness allowing him to move perfectly. “Fuck it’s like you were made for me” his voice, now much deeper, erupted against your neck, his face buried in it as one hand held on to your thigh tightly, and your pain was nothing when compared to how full he made you feel, how your whole body responded to him with absolute pleasure. “You were made for me, weren’t you?” he asked, pulling away from you to grip your face in his hand, a gesture so possessive and animalistic it made your eyes water in a haze. You tried nodding, although it was hard given how strong his grip was, how out of control and light-headed you felt, making it impossible for you to speak either.

His thrusts continued, aggressive and ravenous, as he unleashed all of his cravings on you. “Open your mouth” he ordered between breathy growls that pushed you over the edge. You obeyed, mouth open and tongue out as you looked at him in the eyes, some of his hair stuck to his forehead from sweat, his muscles tense and his body a complete masterpiece as it moved inside you. You knew what he was going to do, yet it still took you by sheer surprise, a cry leaving your lips as he spat directly towards your mouth, pulling your hair back to be able to look at you clearly.

You couldn’t even imagine the wreck you now looked like before him – completely blissed out and lustful, desperate for release. “All mine, f-fuck” you heard him say, despite the fact that you could barely think or even see, the sensations all mingled as one as you carved your nails in his toned arms.

“You’re mine, Charles” you tried finding your assertive voice, remind him he wasn’t the only one in charge, that you too had an upper hand in this. “All fucking m-mine, just like you want” you cried out as you felt him exploding inside you whilst your name left his lips.

The feeling of him coming and filling you was enough for you to come as well, your body shaking around his as he remained inside you, letting you keep every part of him.

As you stilled your breaths, his lips dropped a soft kiss on your forehead and his hand caressed your cheek. The change caused you to giggle, your brain still foggy from the intensity of the session you just had. “Let’s take a shower. Together” you finally said, allowing him to know that everything he had said was as reciprocate as he desired.

You two didn’t have a name or definition yet, but for now, the mutual need for each other’s presence was enough.

@buendiabebeta @janeholt3 @ruleroftheuniverse @trentsgirl @teenagedreams-cl @cmleitora @marialovesf1 @champagneholland

#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #f1blr #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut #f1 smut #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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keeksandgigz · 3 months

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words are futile devices (a cmbyn AU)

A Steddie x Fem!Reader AU

summary: "Every year, like clockwork, you're usurped from your room to surrender it to a random graduate school student your father is hosting for the summer in your Villa in Italy to help them work on their dissertations. This year it's two of them."

warnings: I cannot stress this enough, everyone is of age and above in this!!! pining, cursing, smut, age gap (reader is 19, the boys are 25-26), more in depth warnings in each chapter

a mini- series by keeksandgigz

This and all my works are 18+ minors do NOT interact

somewhere in northern italy, 1983

chapter 1- les usurpateurs

a note on the taglist- I've found the form to be a bit of a hassle to get around, just because there's a lot of people, so for this one I'll try something different. I'll automatically tag my moots (if u don't wanna be tagged please let me know!) and if you wanna be tagged just interact with this post <3

tagging: @munsonsbtch, @xxbimbobunnyxx, @aphrogeneias, @corrodedcherry, @stveharringtn, @impmunson, @strangerstilinski, @lavendermunson, @rebelfell, @bimbobaggins69, @cryingglightningg, @thornsnvultures, @jamdoughnutmagician, @take-everything-you-can, @eddiesxangel

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chemicalpink · 2 years

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Oxytocin | Jeon Jungkook (M)

❂ The Secret Garden

⁂ Hosted by Professor Dia through @bangtansorciere

⤐ AU Type/Trope: Summer Nights Dream - Arranged Marriage AU

⤐ Theme: Mutual Pining + Age Gap

⤐ Kink: begging, exhibitionism, clit spanking, blindfolding, delayed orgasm, overstimulation, light bondage, cum play, impreg.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut | fluff | humour | frenemies au | nepo babies au

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings/Tags: infidelity, grey-ish morals, horny but vanilla-sih, squirting, oral (f. receiving), slight degradation talk, 10 year gap (JK is in mid 30s), lowkey Yoonmin are a thing, lots of bickering, idiots in love tbh.

Rating: 18+

Summary: You don't ever seem to be able to stray too far away from each other. There's no way to backtrack once it's been set in motion, as long as you're both still breathing, you don't even think of leaving. What would people say if they were to listen through the walls?

A/N: Happy JK day I guess. This piece is- something else. Hope you enjoy! See you in a few days with another fic!

Jungkook has proven to be a heavy sleeper, if the way you are able to roam around his whole penthouse was any indicator of that.

There’s barely any light outside the window as you collect your discarded clothing from around his bedroom’s floor, making quick work of getting it on you before looking at yourself in the mirror, deeming yourself presentable enough to catch a ride home. It wasn’t as much of a secret as everyone else would have thought it would be. Both of you got yourselves a privilege like that.

It wasn’t even planned as much as you had regularly wanted your hookups to be– something that had been deeply rooted for by your publicist, something along the lines of keeping the family image. Letting loose wasn’t exactly something people like you get the opportunity to do without risking more than there is to win out of those types of situations, so you refrained from it. But Jeon Jungkook was similar to you in that way, although a few years older than yourself– almost ten, as he is in his mid thirties, he too, had grown up in such an elite family, drowned by rules and responsibilities that limited the way he interacted with those around him. The ability to ruin his reputation with a hookup was as much yours as it was his, something akin to keeping a knife at each other’s throats waiting for a misstep to happen.

It was supposed to be a fun and harmless night out, a bunch of your college friends and yourself going out for drinks and dancing to celebrate all of you getting into your desired Masters’ programmes– you suppose they really had something other than money and power to celebrate for their achievements.

“You don’t look too happy for someone who managed to get into one of the most exclusive business administration internship programmes” Yoongi casually comments as he reclines himself in his seat, throwing whatever was left of his whiskey back. He had always been like that, quietly manoeuvring his way through, loud about his distaste for the system– you couldn’t help but always have a bit of a wall up around him. He smirks a knowing smile at your hesitation, one that you are never sure if it’s mocking you or himself “You don’t have to be so terrified of me you know? I won’t unnecessarily call you a rich asshole, Y/N. We are friends are we not?”

You groan at his remark, feeling like perhaps just for today you could leave all care down the drain, allow yourself that much. Yoongi would never be the type to hurt you after all those years– not with everything you had witnessed him put himself through in your college years, yet the what ifs can’t seem to leave your mind. You take a gulp out of your drink, feeling the alcohol burn your throat “Look at them! They actually have something to celebrate! My dad just made a few calls and now I get to shadow Jeon Jungkook in his company duties for my dissertation. I wouldn’t exactly call that hard work, would you?”

“So perhaps all of us worked harder to get where you are, but whatever work you actually put into it, is all yours, YN” you feel a whine ripped from your throat at that “Y/N, you know, the only reason I’m your friend, over the bunch of other rich kids at our school is because you are actually aware of the privilege you’ve got, and that speaks volumes about you deserving such an opportunity. I can’t even get mad at you for getting it instead of me”

You feel your cheeks get redder at the thought of him trying to get into your programme only to be disposed of it because of a call your dad made. “God- I’ll quit and give to you Yoongi just-”

He dismissed you with his hand “I’ll be around, I got into Kim Namjoon’s programme, couldn’t ask for a better option, have you seen the man?”

You can’t help but laugh “I don’t know what Jimin would have to say about that”

“He would agree with me, now go ahead and leave me be, go dance a well deserved dance with your friends, Y/N”

And you had really intended to do just that at first, at least for the whole thirty seconds walking up to the stage until your eyes caught a much too familiar frame– speak of the devil, Jeon Jungkook. He wasn’t that much of a party-goer, whatever lame excuse you had already heard tumbling from his lips at one of those high end business dinners your dad is constantly dragging you to– some mix of interests and being already too old for it, all while the rest of men lounging out and about laughed politely, greying hairs on their heads as they encourage him to still be young and enjoy life.

“Didn’t think I would see you on such a low budget scene, are Jeon enterprises doing well?” you stand behind the much taller man, drink in hand and you can almost see the roll of his eyes before he even so much as turns around– your interest in the man is no secret to anyone, not even himself as he constantly declines your offers, claiming the ten year gap to be quite a deterrent, having only stopped once his engagement to a foreign heiress closer to his age was made public.

“Miss Y/N, I’ll have you know the business is as prosperous as it could be” he’s holding a drink of his own as he signals for you to follow him to the secluded area he had most likely arrange for himself just down the bar, being quick to take a seat right after you did “If anything, it is you I would be surprised to see here”

You try to shrug it off, not really the one to bring up your rather costly upbringings into what you deem your daily life “I’m a college student after all”

“I heard you got into your desired Masters programme, congratulations on that” there’s something else sparkling in his eyes– a way in. Whether he would blame it on the alcohol later on, let you down slowly for the uptenth time, whatever glimmer in his eyes show up as he sips his whiskey, tailored suit begging to be ripped apart, was nothing but a chance you refuse to let go.

You move yourself closer to where he’s sitting, purposely touching his thighs, rock hard under your touch as you feel him twitch, gaze stoic as usual, one of his large hands finding rest on the small of your back as you lean into him “I’m thinking your place, before any of us put much thought into it”

The man is quick to set up something right there and then from his phone, quickly getting the both of you to your feet, guiding you outside and into an awaiting Mercedes which is pulled up to an all too familiar curb. The walk inside is distinctly Jungkook. Quiet and appeased before the door is slammed closed, hands all over your body, trying to rid the both of you of your clothes.

The tips of his fingers rest on the back of your dress “Can I?”

“Why do you alway gotta be so poised, huh?” you take over his hands, ripping the fabric, exposing your naked body to him before you’re pushing him into the couch, gesturing for him to do the same “We’re going behind your fiancee Jungkook, treat me like the slut I have every right to be treated like''

His lips find yours in the lewdest way possible as you straddle his lap, already glistening folds undoubtedly staining his underwear as you rock yourself against him in need for any type of friction as he grows harder by the second, one of his hands coming to your hips to halt the movement “What is it that you want from me, Y/N”

“Anything” you lean yourself towards him, lips brushing his as your breath fans his mouth and you’re almost sure he could miss the words that tumble from your lips “Everything”

“God Y/N you can’t just go and try to collect all of father’s friends like this, what would your parents say huh?” his hand on your hip has started to redirect your moves against him as he has freed the tip of his cock just enough to let it graze against your folds– barely teasing “I’m ten fucking years older than you are– I am about to be your motherfucking teacher for godsake”

“Oh-Oh god I’ll have you anyway Jungkook, don’t you- ah, don’t you get that?”

One of your hands comes down to rid him of his underwear, you wouldn’t even need to pump him hard as you position your cunt against his cock, letting barely the tip slip inside, both your hands resting atop of his biceps, feeling his heart thumping against your palms– a dream come true. “Even if it means me getting married and having to fuck you at the weirdest times? Huh? After having told Areum I would stay at the office working late? Wouldn’t you just love for me to fuck you while I blatantly lie to my wife?”

“Ah- fuck Jungkook, yeah” you close your eyes in delight at the way that your hips meet his in an unpracticed movement, letting your mind run wild at the way he seems to really have thought all of through “We could- we could always have the new years’ gala for ourselves, business trips, whatever, just fucking- treat me like the whore I’m meant to be– your whore”

“What if an article goes out huh? Your father would ruin me”

His pace picks up and you’re almost left out of breath as you struggle to find the words of whatever thought you try to voice “It’s not like I couldn’t buy off every reporter that could ruin me-us”

“What if Areum were to find us?” You feel him shudder, cock twitching inside you as soon as the words leave his mouth– can’t help but wonder if the thought itself is enough to have him let go inside you.

You open your eyes to look straight back at him, your walls clenching around him at the same time as you feel him starting to paint your walls white, a smile drawn on your face. Checkmate “Oh but isn’t that the best part?”

Monday morning doesn’t seem to come quick enough as classes start once again, not even the breezy morning can seem to scratch the smirk off of your face as you watch Jungkook walk into the lecture building, fitted pants hugging his thighs deliciously, black dress shirt nicely tucked in, hair styled back gently ruffled by the wind– has you wondering just how much greater he would look all fucked out like he did just a few days prior. You can’t help but wonder now that things have settled down and he’s about to be your main tutor– would he fuck you in his office? Leave the door the tadest bit open so anyone could hear, hands all over your body, grading papers long forgotten.

It’s Jimin’s voice the one that takes you back to reality, incredulously sipping his morning tea “I still can’t believe you ate that”

“Oh I didn’t do the eating, that’s for sure”

“TMI Y/N!”

Jungkook’s Master programme basically consisted of a general lecture– which you are grateful to attend next to Yoongi, along with the evening set apart for the internship and research part of it, quite unsure of just how exactly it would mean, although rather stoic and uninterested, the man himself is the one to pull you out of the questioning.

Class had just been wrapped up as Jungkook found himself collecting his materials, head hanging low, barely glancing your way as he spoke “We can take my car to the office, I’ll just need to have you sign the internship contract and you’re good to go for the day”

You hum noncommittally, quickly changing the topic, hoping to catch him off guard “Would you call off your engagement if I asked daddy to drop the lawsuit against your company?”

Jungkook is soon looking at you quizzically, glasses barely slipping down his nose “You can’t just say those things out loud, Y/N” He makes do of going back to organising his papers “What if someone hears? And please don’t call your dad like that”

You stand your ground as you get close to where he’s standing, pressing yourself against the desk “Why? Want to keep the nickname reserved for yourself?”

His eyes glimmer with something akin to want– even if he makes the greatest effort of not looking as affected as you guess he is, even more so as he approaches you even further, lips barely above yours as his fingers keep your chin in place “You’re about to learn how the world moves outside that pretty little head of yours, Y/N”

Day at Jeon Enterprises prove to be much harder than you could possible picture them being beforehand– it was really no secret how Jungkook’s company rivaled your family’s, which would have been expected of him to torture you with work even the slightest, perhaps in terms of personal amusement.

“Hey Jungkook, I can’t seem to reach the supplier for-” Jungkook clears his throat twice, making you raise your gaze to look at the room you had just entered, fully engrossed on the papers you were holding as part of yet another extremely complex task you had taken upon just to prove it to yourself, eyes falling on the one person that could cause you such heartache– Areum, Jungkook’s fiancee. You’re quick to backtrack and try to mend the correct politeness you’re supposed to keep while working “...sir”

Jungkook’s voice is stern as he sits across from his partner, eyes unable to leave your figure as he does so “It’s fine, Y/N, just leave the papers on my desk and I’ll get to them on due time”

You can’t even force a smile to paint on your face as you bow down dismissing yourself from the room, retreating in an effort to not let each and every thought about actions and consequences cloud your mind enough to have you messing up.

“Did daddy’s money buy her a place on your programme?” Areum mentions once the door is closed behind you, a sting to her voice that has Jungkook sighing tiredly “I wonder how many pants she’s gotten into since she got here”

“That’s my student you’re talking about, Areum” his stoic demeanour is enough to bring the comments to a halt, even more so as he raises from where he was previously sitting, back facing her as he goes through the papers on his desk “That would be all then”

The wind picks up as soon as you’re stepping outside the coffeeshop, two containers in hand. You can’t seem to grow accustomed to the brief walk involved in having to come into the office after class hours. The whole debacle seemed uninteresting for the mere twenty minutes it takes to walk from the library to fetch Jungkook’s evening coffee, and into the building. Uninteresting, at least until your phone dings with a message from Jimin as soon as you make it into the elevator. You can’t help the bubbly laugh that escapes your lips as soon as you read the headline to the link your friend had sent. Renowned CEO of Jeon Enterprises, Jeon Jungkook, calls of engagement to heiress Kim Areum via Official Press Release.

It is no news to see Jungkook hunched over his desk, glasses perched on his nose as he annotates whatever newly finished document has been left on his desk– you can’t help but wonder how exactly does the man manages to keep an unresponsive character even through something as grand as his recent breakup, yet you guess you owe to give it the same amount of importance.

You place the freshly brewed cup of coffee in front of him, apart enough from his documents so as to not cause an accident and you can’t help the words slipping from your mouth, the tingling sensation of hope taking over your whole body “Congrats on the newly found bachelorhood” you make your way to stand behind his chair as he turns around to look up at you with veiled amusement in his eyes, the smallest of smirks on his lips “I’m sure you’ll soon make it back to the number one spot on the ‘Most Seeked After Bachelors’ ”

Jungkook fixes his glasses before once again turning his back to you, diving straight back into work “Not that it is any relevant”

You can’t shake the misplaced emotions that the knowledge of Jeon Jungkook being single produces within you– no stranger to the nature of them after the awkward dancing around each other you two had a history of. Can’t even wipe the smile off of your face as lunch break comes around and Yoongi takes a seat beside you in the company’s cafeteria. “Now that you’re technically one of us, and not your rich self, will you be attending the fundraising gala?”

Just as you’re about to answer, Yoongi’s advisor walks up to your table, nodding in acknowledgement “Ms. Y/N, mind if I steal Yoongi for a few minutes?”

You wave your hands in dismissal “Oh- there’s no need- I’m here as an apprentice too, Namjoon-ssi”

Attending the fundraising gala is as much of a chore as anything else pertaining to any company duties is– you guess it most certainly loses its sparkle if you’ve been an attendee most of your life. Press conferences, networking, dull tasting finger food and a dash of old money entering a metaphorical dick measuring contest. For years on end the only excuse to attend such things had been the chance of getting to greet and mingle with Jungkook– although unnecessary now that the nature of your relationship had changed, there’s a certain nostalgia that accompanies the act as you quietly bow to him as soon as you get inside, your father long gone from sight.

“It’s a great way to take advantage of such networking events- standing here in the corner” you point out teasingly at the way Jungkook keeps to himself, nursing a glass of whiskey that is mostly just melting ice by then.

“Eh I was entertaining myself as I waited for someone” there’s a smile on his lips as he places the glass down on a nearby counter, large hand reaching out for yours, caressing the inner part of your arm, lips pressed to your exposed shoulder as he gets himself closer to whisper in your ear “The downstairs bathroom seems appealing enough for today”

Your father’s voice can barely be heard from downstairs near the garden, Jungkook’s presence, lips and cologne all occupying the most of your mind as he makes work of ridding you of enough clothes to gain access to your cunt, two fingers quickly lapping up your wetness and spreading your lips enough to insert themselves, a moan escaping your lips that is cut short by his own “Wouldn’t it be disrespectful to interrupt your father’s speech with the way his very own daughter is begging for dick just a floor below, huh?”

“A-ah Jungkook just move or something” His fingers halt their movement as he pinches your clit, earning a hiss out of you, his eyes shimmering teasingly at the way you keep on clutching tighter to his bicep.

“Oh? What was that? Hands over the counter?” Jungkook barely makes an effort for you to comply, hands resting atop of the marble counter, legs spread as soon as his leg comes in between, cunt raised in the air for his own enjoyment. You can look at yourself in the mirror, feel yourself blush at the image of your exposed body, his figure fully dressed behind you as you rest your head against your arm once he continues his ministrations. You barely register the way he hitches your leg up next to your hand, gaining better access to the way his fingers curl inside you, against your walls as he thrusts his fingers deeper in a faster motion.

“J-Jungkook just- p-please, I need-ah”

“Need what, baby?” he retreats his fingers in favour of his palm brushing against your folds, a breeze of cold air has you shivering for a fraction of a second before he brings his palm forward, slapping your clit twice in the motion, a grunt from him and a whine from you and he’s bringing his hand to spit on it before doing it once again, eliciting the same response from your body, knees threatening to give out “What is it that you need, Y/N?”

“Ah- just please please anything- you” You barely miss the lewd image from the mirror as Jungkook kneels down behind you, lapping up your juices teasingly, not going as far as a teasing kitten lick at your folds before he reclines back, a breath in your voice “I need you, Jungkook, please”

Jungkook buries his face in between your legs, tongue pushing inside you as his deft fingers continue to nip at your clit, esporadically slapping the bud in an effort to work you up harder, movements combined enough to have your juices staining most of his chin, ruining the top part of his tailored suit as he fixes your dress, hoists your leg down and holds you close, completely fucked out as you regain yourself when he plants an open kiss to your mouth, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “God, you’re so beautiful like this”

“I didn’t know you were signing a merger” you try to keep your tone casual as you walk up to your father, club in hand as he stares back at his game– golf had become a family activity for Sundays as soon as you were able to take over some of the company’s assets, serving as the only time you could talk with your dad– or at least as he half listened to you, mind and eyes glued to the ball.

“Well you would know, had you not disappeared in the middle of my speech back at the gala”

You can’t help but feel yourself grow warmer at the memory, clearing your throat and hoping your father has got no idea of the implication of your actions “I just thought you hated the Jeons”

“As much as any other member of our family, sweetheart” Although always rocky, your family and the Jeons’ had always hold a great amount of respect for one another, able to see past petty familial matters and opting to recognise the business abilities that lie within, all the more reason to be certain that rumours were surely spreading out about the merger. Having grown up within such an apparatus, you had become accustomed to how things were supposed to be handled, business first, personal life second. “Jeon Jungkook breaking up his engagement couldn’t have been better timed as we seek for a perfect excuse that won’t cause our investors to grow suspicious”

“I’m not sure I follow, dad”

“Marry that Jungkook kid, Y/N. I know you’ve got a soft spot for him” he is soon moving on to the next spot with a pat to your shoulder, no room for discussion.

You don’t even bother to knock on Jungkook’s private office’s door as you let yourself in, finding him reading over documents as usual. There’s no true rage behind your actions, merely– confusion. Surely Jungkook had already known about it. Had to agree to it beforehand. Fucking around was nice, thrilling, the chase between the two, no use denying that you two shared something. Yet the talks on marriage were on a whole other level of whatever it was that you both had built as months went by.

“So I’m guessing you’ve heard” Jeon Jungkook, poised as ever, barely half an emotion on his face, rids himself of his glasses as he motions for you to take a seat across from him.

“I had no idea a man in his mid thirties could still be roped into an arrangement”

“Marrying someone ten years younger– from a rival company, was most certainly not in the handbooks” he ditches his seat to hold himself near where you are seated, hands resting on his desk as he smiles down teasingly “Yet here we are”

He leans down to hold your chin in between his fingers and you can feel yourself relax at the familiar way his mouth works over yours, the room becoming too stuffed the longer the both of you spend making out, hands working over clothes until they are promptly discarded, his shedded tie taking home around your eyes all the while.

His hands work the wonders you had already been a witness to as you feel a familiar tugging at the bottom of your stomach, only to let out an indignant huff as he removes himself, your orgasm at a grasping distance, taken away from you with a smile on his face; he positions himself on one knee as he slides himself in after pumping himself a few times, slipping a condom on his hardened member, lips locking with yours, reclining against the cushioned expanse of the chair, your legs kicking up and around his torso as you grant him a better access to thrust into you before he is soon dragging you by your hips to straddle him, his mouth nipping at your breasts as one of his hands comes down to nip at your clit alongside the thrusts of his cock, holding your hips in place before– without much effort, he’s hoisting you up against the wall, thighs around him, a moan escaping your throat as he continues to fuck into you– you can’t even find yourself being mad at how yet another orgasm is taken away from you at the movement. You don’t even seem to care the way that most of the blinds are drawn– even if you both are so high up it would be nearly impossible to see, the thought is right there. You can already feel your knees buckling before he’s pressing your back into the floor, ass up as he slides into you once more and you feel like it is too much, thighs trembling, sore clit, even as you feel yourself gushing once again at his ministrations. Jungkook is soon enough collapsing against your back, movement still as he finishes off inside the condom with a few deep thrusts, hands caging you in a futile attempt to keep the both of you from collapsing.

His voice is close to your hair, gentle hands wiping you down even as you can swear you still see stars behind the dark velvety fabric around your head. “Don’t go expecting the work to get easier just because of this, Y/N” he’s helping you up and inside your clothes by the time he presses a kiss on the crown of your head before he retreats to his desk “You’ve got an engagement dinner to attend once you’re done with work for the day”

You struggle to find your voice, the information barely registering “T-tonight?”

“Keep it up, Y/N, I’m supposed to be the old one between the two” there’s something else in the smile he throws your way, his sight never leaving you even as you cross the door to continue your duties for the day.

Jungkook’s penthouse living room was packed with people from the office, along with a few familiar faces both from yours and his extended family, time had seemed to pass at an incredibly fast pace as you get congratulated, handed gifts and kept on getting questioned about a story you have yet to come up with. Not even the top tier champagne flutes have seemed to help ease the unsettling yet giddy feeling in your tummy, feeling especially overwhelmed after Jungkook had delivered your outfit for the day inside a high end luxury brand box at the end of the day in the office, offered you a drive to his home and had gone as far as giving up most of his commodities for you to get ready in record time as he hosted the people that were already making their way to the celebration.

“You know, when Namjoon said we had a company dinner, I most certainly did not expect to hear my best friend was getting married” Yoongi mentions as soon as you approach him, standingly idly beside a particularly costly piece of decorative art.

You take yet another gulp out of your glass “You and me both”

Jimin is soon standing next to him, smile plastered on his face as he holds what you can only guess is his upteenth champagne flute “For someone that is being forced to marry a dude 10 years older, I don’t see you complaining much”

“The sex is great, Jiminie” his face is rapidly contorting into a disgusted feature that has you laughing out loud, a pair of hands coming up to hold you close to a body you have come to recognise as Jungkook’s, you barely turn your head towards him to watch him acknowledge the pair in a silent greeting.

“Mind if I steal her for a second?”

Your hand is on Jungkook’s as he drags you down the hall to a rather familiar room, even as you hear Yoongi calling after you “She’s all yours now!”

It almost feels like a deja-vu, the way Jungkook’s lips are on yours as the both of you stand before his bed. Wandering hands all over both of your bodies, grabbing at all the right and already familiar places, as you separate yourself with a teasing smile on your face “Shouldn’t we wait until our honeymoon?” the mere phrase earns you an incredulous look from the man in front of you “Well- now that I know I’ll be getting one”

Jungkook throws most of his body weight on you to sent you tumbling into the bed, kissing alongside your jaw as he discards your clothes with your help “God I can’t get enough of you, Y/N”

There’s a teasing glint in your eyes as you push your hips into his, asking for more friction “Then don’t”

His lips are on yours in an instant, hands gripping yours as he– ever so carefully, secures them above your head with whatever piece of clothing had just been laying around. The dance is familiar in a way it hadn’t been before even after all this time, somehow even more intimate than it had ever been– even as the smallest fraction of your brain processes the fact that there is still a party going on downstairs, the tell tales of music barely reaching you as Jungkook absolutely ravishes your body, his member hard against you as the tip of his cock keeps on teasing your entrance, barely breaching only to be retreated once more “Ah-God Jungkook just put it in!”

“So desperate for my cock, Y/N” he slaps his member against your clit a few times, enough to have you whimpering, wishing to undo the restraints in your wrists so you could position him and get it on with. He doesn’t seem to be in the more for any more teasing as he starts fucking into you, deep and hard, just the way he mostly does. This time around he doesn’t miss the chance to work himself quickly– you can feel him pulsing against your walls even more so as you clench down on him, earning an almost guttural groan from him as he cums inside, eyes closed, head resting hanging low, a pouty kiss on your lips “Ah- God- I can’t wait to fill you up with our kids”

“Ah- please Jungkook just-” you can’t help the whine that overrides you as some of his cum gushes out, only for him to gather it up and push it back inside with a few languid thrusts.

The woman sitting across from Jungkook's office's coffee table is well put together– nothing that you wouldn’t have already expected for someone like him. She’s got what seems like a million papers inside binders, a practised smile plaster on her face as soon as she sits down. “So, what type of wedding are we thinking about? Summer weddings are-”

Jungkook takes your hand in his, a mischievous smile on his lips “Next week”

“Excuse me?”

The woman’s mouth is barely hanging from a surprisingly veiled expressing as soon as the words leave his mouth, yet Jungkook– much in Jungkook’s fashion, refuses to relent “I’m marrying Y/N next week”

“Mr Jeon, with all due respect, the costs and availability on such short notice-”

“I’m sure you’re aware, money is not an issue”

One week later– not a second earlier or later, you’re standing at the altar, gorgeous white dress on your body, hands in your soon to be husband ones as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

“...You may now kiss each other.”

Jungkook’s personal assistant is quiet in the way that she briefly knocks on his office door before announcing herself “Mr Jeon, Y/N’s father is here, per your request”

“Great, let him in”

Jungkook fixes himself a few times too many as your father takes a seat across from him at his desk, the image quite bizarre on its own, even more so as the two CEOs are seen talking in office hours, a feat not ever foreseen.

Your father’s eyebrows shoot up at the request– the matters at hand. “You want to marry Y/N?”

“I’m sure you understand how beneficial such a union would be for the both of us” Jungkook’s infamous poker face slips from a fraction of a second, long enough for your father’s interest to peak at the action as he continues to talk “I’m willing to throw away my three-year long engagement for Y/N”

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h-c-u · 1 year

Text

Teacher's Pet

Summary: It's your first time being a TA, but you're pretty sure some of the areas your professor needs help with are not in the job description.

Pairing: professor Toto Wolff x TA fem!reader

W/C: 3.1k

Rating: +18, age gap, dom/sub, exhibitionism, creampie, oral sex, praise kink, aftercare

A/N: Filth. Pure filth. Absolute filth. As always on my smut - YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Masterlist | List of tags

By this time in the year, you knew the students' habits and schedule well enough to know what you did and didn't have time to do between lectures. Sometimes you had enough time to go the library to do research for your dissertation, sometimes just enough to barely make a fresh cup of tea, and sometimes - like right now - you had enough time to get absolutely railed by the professor you were under - both literally and figuratively.

You were sure that by now there had to be at least some rumors, but none reached your ears. Although there was no way that there were none, considering all the times the door to his classroom or office was magically closed when you were there together (mechanical failure of course, it was an old building after all). And if on top of that, you added the smudges in the exact shade of your lipstick ending up on few papers he graded, the fact that (at least in your mind) the scent of sex clung to you all the time, and all the hickeys and bitemarks taking deeper color over the course of a single lecture, meaning that they were fresh... There was just no way no one connected the dots yet. But officially, you were never caught, and with every time you got away with it, you got even more brazen.

That's why today he waited just a little bit longer to grab your wrist, turn you around and push your face into the pile of papers because the thrill of finishing closer to the start of the next class was too enticing. He quickly pulled down the panties you were wearing, let them fall to the floor, and threw the hem of your sundress over your waist, so he could see everything. Without saying a word, he placed a soft kiss on your left ass cheek, a complete contrast to what he was about to do. He run two fingers in between your folds, while his other hand was unbuttoning his pants and freeing the already hard cock. Both of you were expecting this to happen since the day started, you just weren't sure exactly when it would happen. So, every time your eyes crossed, every time you accidentally touched each other, every time you said each other’s names, it was almost like edging, but on a completely different and surreal level.

Sure, he could prepare you more, but he knew you loved that moment when the burn disappeared and suddenly there was only pleasure consuming your body, that's why he run his cock between your folds just enough to lubricate himself and slammed all the way in one swift move. You didn't have time to mentally prepare yourself for the familiar sensation, even though it was seared in your brain forever by now. He didn't wait at all before setting a brutal pace and pushing your hips into the edge of the desk, while you tried to hold onto the crumbs of balance you had left in your body, so you wouldn’t become a ragdoll in his hands.

His fingers were painfully digging into the skin on your hips and pulling you deeper onto his cock with every push, causing your whole body to jolt across the desk and making an absolute mess of the exams the previous group finished taking about 15 minutes ago, but that was the last think on your mind. He knew your body like the back of his hand by now, which came useful in moments like this because he knew exactly what he needed to do, to make you cum as fast as possible; when to thrust, what pace you enjoyed the most, what angles made your toes curl, and he was making use of it all, trying to force a whole goddamn opera of moans from your throat. And if not the fact, that you could already hear the students gathering in front of the door, you would have let him. But instead, you reached back for one of his hands and moved it to your mouth to at least try to muffle the whines you weren't able to stop.

What you weren't expecting was him putting more pressure and pulling you closer by your head, so you were standing up, flush against his torso, with his hips still hammering against yours, the material of his trousers and your dress preventing loud slapping from completely filling up the room. He moved the hand that was still on your hip to the neckline of your sundress and pulled it down, freeing your breasts. He gave each of them a squeeze, which made you throw your head back and rest it on his shoulder. With just your nose to breathe through, you were slowly getting a little lightheaded, so when he rolled your nipple in between his fingers and squeezed it tightly, your eyes almost instantly rolled back. You were so close, yet so far, but the hum of a small crowd gathering outside made it harder for you to lose yourself in the sensation of... him. Him inside you, him surrounding you... He was everywhere, haunting every atom of your body and your every thought, and you were helpless against the power he held over you.

- Either you're cumming in the next 10 seconds, or you're not cumming at all. - he whispered straight into your ear, just as there was a sound of a bell coming from down the hall. You lowkey expected him to start counting down, but he just added - I know what I'm choosing... - after which he sunk his teeth into the place where your neck met your shoulder, and that was the missing puzzle piece that finally completed a full picture of you falling apart in his arms. But you didn't get to enjoy that feeling for long, because he quickly pulled out after finishing deep inside you, pulled up his trousers, and put your panties that were currently on the floor in his pocket, while you were still trying to catch a breath, leaning on the desk in front of you.

With your walls spasming and clenching around nothing, you didn't even realize when he forcefully guided you to your usual seat in the first row, sat you down, and pulled the neckline of your sundress back up to hide your breasts behind the patterned material. Before he moved away, he placed one last hungry kiss on your lips and wiped the smudged lipstick from around your mouth. You should really consider stopping wearing it because it was leaving marks everywhere...

At first, you didn't even register the other students slowly filling up the room after Toto opened the door for them because your mind was still frozen in that moment of blinding pleasure. Even though your body was no longer uncontrollably twitching, your breath was still quick and shallow, your cheeks were flushed, and you were sure anyone who looked at you would be able to tell that you just got absolutely railed, but you underestimated under-slept and under-caffeinated students, who worried more about their grades and exams, than the insignificant TA.

Only about ten minutes into the lecture, your brain started comprehending reality once again, and what brought it back was a quiet question from one of the students you became friendly with over the last eight months.

- Sorry, could you repeat that...? - you whispered after quietly clearing your throat.

- Is everything ok...? - she asked. You couldn't tell her the truth, so instead you gave her a confusing look. - You look a little bit sick... Maybe you should take a day off or something? - she proposed, and you prayed for the floor under you to open up and swallow you whole. She meant well though.

- I'm fine... I just can't handle this heat well. - you lied, hoping that your words would be enough to convince her because the almost-summer temperatures were abysmal lately.

- Do you want some water? I have iced one... - she offered and the look of relief on your face told her more than your words because she bent down and took a thermal bottle covered in stickers from her bag and passed it to you. - You can keep it till the end of the lecture. - she added quietly and went back to making notes.

- Thank you... - you replied, opened the bottle, and took a big sip. It was colder than you expected, but it was your savior, allowing you to calm your body once again. You took smaller sips over the next few minutes, but then you just had to look at Toto, and you almost choked seeing how he looked at you. You didn't, but a little bit of water still dripped from the corner of your mouth, and down your cleavage summoning goosebumps over your skin.

He stopped mid-sentence for a moment, his eyes drilling into yours, but he quickly regained his composure and continued the lecture. You couldn't comprehend how he could look this put together after fucking you so hard, his giant, heavy desk was currently on a slight angle. Not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle on his shirt, not a stain on his crotch. And then you felt it...

You were no longer wearing underwear. And he came inside you. It's not like it was the first time he did, but he never did that in the middle of the day, when there was no chance of plugging you or for you to clean up. You clenched up, trying your best not to let any of it leak out and stain first your dress, and eventually the chair under you. The panic and fear of finally being caught slowly coiled around your thoughts, but when you looked at him again... You realized that was exactly what he planned. He took his phone out of his pocket, and you just knew that the phone call he was taking was a complete and utter sham.

- I apologize, I have to take this. Y/n, could you please introduce the group to the concept of homo economicus...? - he asked, moving the microphone away from his mouth, his face all worried. He should get an Oscar for that performance. And you would have to work hard on yours because currently, your mouth was drier than sandpaper. You quickly nodded, took a sip from the bottle, and stood up, while Toto was leaving the room.

It took all your self-control to keep your voice leveled and steady when gravity was actively working against you while you were speaking on a fortunately familiar topic. You tried to move as little as possible, but you couldn't just stand there motionless, trying to will a large drop of cum from sliding down your thigh, with your mind.

Eventually, it did slip out of you, and you had to make a quick decision, so you started walking around the slightly raised podium, rubbing your thighs together as much as possible and smearing your mixed release all over your skin, just so it wouldn't fall below the hem of your sundress or just straight onto the carpeted floor. The sensation wasn't exactly pleasant, but it was much better than the potential humiliation you would have to face if someone realized what happened. You just hoped that if any of that panic showed in your body language or on your face, the students would assume it was because you were stressing about speaking in front of them.

But finally, Toto came back to the room. He didn't take over straight away, though; he let you finish your thought first, while he attentively watched your every move under the pretense of listening to your words. When you ended your short lecture, he apologized again, and you could finally sit back down, and pray that the heat you felt on your face didn't translate to the redness on your cheeks. You took another sip of water, eternally grateful to the girl who gave it to you, because it was the only thing currently keeping you from bursting into flames. After a very long moment, you were finally able to focus on the stack of exams you were supposed to be grading, and you did just that until the lecture ended. You gave back the bottle to the student and sat still where you were until the last person left the room.

- You're evil... - you mumbled much quieter than you originally intended, and Toto just smiled and walked closer to you.

- And yet, you loved every second of it. - he leaned down to kiss you, and you couldn't even pretend that you were mad at him, because he was absolutely right. Without breaking the kiss, he turned your chair, so he would be able to kneel in front of you, spread your knees, and roll your dress up, so he had free access to your thighs and what was in between them.

- The door... - you said quietly, and he just grinned, pushed your chair a bit further, and followed, so his whole body was hidden by the bench in front.

- No more lectures. And if someone will come for a consult... I trust you will be able to handle it. - he said and placed a gentle kiss on the inside of your knee, and another one a little bit higher. When he got to the mess of his own doing, he dragged his tongue across your skin, cleaning the stickiness that didn't dry out only because you kept your thighs closed since you sat down.

He was slowly getting higher and higher, licking every marked patch of skin, making sure, there was no more cum on your thighs, and leaving the pleasant coldness behind. But then he moved his hands to your hips and pulled you down in the chair, so he would have easier access to your pussy.

- Relax... - he whispered almost directly against your skin and licked the outside of your folds. You didn't have any other choice than to just lean back and enjoy what was happening. You were already turned on, but this... this was different. The intimacy of his actions made you feel all soft and warm, and you slowly run your fingers through his hair, causing him to look up. You wanted to say something, but you couldn't find the right words with his tongue slowly circling your clit and finding its way to your opening from time to time. The mere look of him kneeling in front of you was intoxicating, and the fact that he was slowly summoning another wave of pleasure to wash over you was only adding to the all-consuming intensity you felt toward him.

He didn't stop until he felt your walls clenching around his tongue, and even then, he didn't retreat right away, prolonging that searing pleasure you felt all around your body. Even though your orgasm was less intense than the one he gave you during the break, your legs still felt as if they were made from cotton. You had to grab him strongly by his hair and pull him away from your core, for him to actually stop and let your body process what he just did to it.

You were physically and mentally exhausted, and if not for the fact that you were still in the classroom, you would probably just fall asleep, because the emotional drop that suddenly came over you was strong.

- I need a break... - you whispered, with your fist still clenched around his hair, and it was the only part of your body that had even a sliver of strength left in it. He gently traced his fingers down your forearm to your fingers and untangled them from his hair...

- Come here... - he said quietly and pulled you down from the chair straight onto his lap, changing the positions, so he would be able to sit on the floor with his legs straightened, and you on top of them. - You were perfect today... - he whispered, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you, and you couldn't help but hide your face in his shirt in search of familiar comfort. Sure, you two could do absolutely blasphemous things together, but in the end, he was able to take care of you in any way you needed. And after the whole day of sitting and walking on needles, you needed... this. - Absolutely divine... - he added quietly, placed a soft kiss on your temple, and kept his lips there. He allowed you to process everything that happened today at your own pace, so your brain could slowly catch up with reality and you could feel like yourself in your body again.

It took you a moment, but he was there to praise you and guide you through that path.

- You're staying with me tonight. And I'm cooking... - he stated, when you were finally able to look at him again, and you knew that disagreeing now would be a bad idea, so you just sheepishly nodded and let him help you up. - Words are still a bit hard...? - you needed a moment to think about the answer, and eventually, you nodded again, but there was no shame or fear behind your eyes.

Technically today wasn't even a hard session, but the sub-drop didn't choose, and all the emotions you were exposed to eventually had to spill over. First denial and anticipation, which already gave him control over you, then the physical overpowering when you weren't able to do anything but submit... And after that, there was fear and humiliation during the lecture, and in the and - he chose to take even more pleasure from your body, and it just became... too much.

You talked extensively about your boundaries, needs, and expectations as soon as you both realized that you wanted to pursue this type of dynamic, so you knew that if you truly wanted to stop, that option was always available. With time he learned you well enough to know what you could and couldn't endure at the moment, just by looking at you, which was both a blessing and a curse because he could push your boundaries further from your comfort zone than you thought possible. And yet, you knew that one word or gesture, and he would immediately stop. You couldn't get that trust, that feeling of safety from anyone or anything else. That's why you welcomed his arms around you; you knew that even though you couldn't find your voice at the moment, he would still be able to hear it.

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

#my writing #Toto Wolff fanfiction #Toto Wolff smut #Toto Wolff x reader #🖤#🧸#🥪#💋#😛#🔥#🍦#👓

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raz-writes-the-thing · 7 months

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Study Materials (Prodigal Son)

Martin Whitly x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Martin loves your singing voice. How convenient that it helps you study.

CW: Martin Whitly. that's it, that's the warning. (also fluff)

Prodigal Son tag list: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

It had started out innocently enough. You’d written to The Surgeon in hopes of getting some answers for your dissertation for University. You’d not expected a reply back, never mind an invitation to go and see him.

You’d left the letter on your bedside for about a month before deciding to bite the proverbial bullet and go to see him. You’d seen pictures of him online, of course. Knew as much about him as was relatively accessible online, but being able to meet him? To speak with him directly? Well, you’d be a fool to pass that opportunity up.

So you’d gone to see him. He was charming, almost soft? He’d answered some of your questions and deflected others. He was guarded but had seemed genuinely interested in your studies and degree.

“The human mind,” he’d said conspiratorially. “It’s quite the marvel.”

Quite the marvel indeed.

You’d gone back a second time because you’d thought of some more questions that would be great for your paper.

The third was to follow up on some of his answers that you’d forgotten to take all the notes down for.

And after that, well, you’d realised after quite some time that you were making up excuses to see him. Anything under the sun that seemed at least a vaguely reasonable excuse was used to get yourself time during his visitation.

And eventually, you just went because you wanted to. Taking in your notes and studying while making idle conversation, cracking jokes about classes and professors and sometimes just sitting in contented silence until visitation hours ran out.

On this particular day, you were reading and re-reading the same paragraphs of study materials. They were just not sinking in. Martin had the radio on softly and was singing quietly under his breath. You let your mind focus on that as you tried to read the materials one more time.

You got a little further this time and were actually making decent progress when Martin spoke up suddenly.

“That sounds lovely, my dear. I didn’t know you could sing!”

Your cheeks pinked immediately. You hadn’t even realised you’d been singing. You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, making sure not to paint yourself with your highlighter.

“Oh- yeah, only sometimes. Just can’t help it when the song is good, you know?”

Martin gives you one of his signature warm smiles.

“I understand, sweetheart. You really are very good,” he tilts his head thoughtfully. “It’s quite nice to hear a friendly voice in here. The radio only gets you so far.”

You note that Martin has a hopeful gleam in his eyes. Oh, he enjoyed it. Like, actually wants you to sing some more kind of enjoyed it. Your cheeks blush a little darker.

“Is that a request, Martin?”

The man in question hums invitingly.

“If you’d be so kind,” he says, trying not to let the hope bleed through too much.

You chuckle and go back to your readings. You won’t be able to sing if you’re not focussing on something else. Particularly if he’s paying attention solely to you.

You clear your throat and highlight a passage, adding in your annotations. Quietly at first, you start to sing along with the radio.

You find with the highlighting and the singing, the information soaks into your brain faster, and as you become more engrossed in the readings, you completely forget Martin is even there listening to you.

If you’d paid attention, you would have noticed the way Martin gave you a look of pure adoration. You would have noticed the way he closed his eyes and sighed with relief, letting the words wash over him.

And thus, a new studying tradition was born. Whenever you visited Martin in his cell with your textbooks and highlighters, he would brighten considerably. You fell into the routine and eventually, Martin started asking for requests- which you fulfilled if you knew the songs.

You could both get very used to this.

#A/N: where tf did all you singing requestors come from- i have like 10 of them please #a fella can only do so much #martin whitly #martin whitly imagine #martin whitly x reader #prodigal son #prodigal son imagine #michael sheen #martin whitly x you #dr whitly #dr. whitly x reader #prodigal son x reader #michael sheen x reader #x reader #martin whitly x yn #martin whitly x y/n #prodigal son fic #prodigal son fanfic #prodigal son fanfiction

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stuckinapril · 3 months

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i saw ur post on how there isnt rlly a big arab figure, and wow like. i think that if i had been younger and saw just one or two arab people on tv in a positive way, it would have helped me a LOT. like yeah. There ISNT a big singer or character or actor or model that’s arab. And now im sitting here wondering how many kids are going to be sitting and watching tv and just blocking out their arab heritage and culture because then they wouldnt be like their favorite singer or wtver.

Exactly. Exactly exactly exactly. I’ve full chest said this before, but I wasn’t always as attached to my Arab heritage as I am now. I actually grew up pretty distant from it all around, and it’s only in recent years that I started making a concerted effort to delve into it. And I can’t even blame it on my mom tbh, like I grew up in a lax household that allowed for ample self-expression. It was always the outside world that would make a little Arab girl like me question the worth of her ethnic roots—especially when Arabs are painted as terrorists at worst and as monocultural heathens at best where I’m from (hint: the USA). There is so much to unpack w being raised American but being ethnically Iraqi!! Because that means I literally hail from two countries!! A country that’s thirsty and a country that’s on fire!! But that’s a whole other loaded topic I could write a separate dissertation on.

I’d always have toxic thought loops like “I don’t look Arab enough” “I’m not religious but all the Arab girls I know are Muslim” on and on and on. And like I said in that ask, there was never an Arab American A lister for me to kind of have a frame of reference w. This is specifically an Arab issue too I feel like, bc a lot of brown people do have that star-studded figure to look up to growing up. We do not.

It’s kind of why I decided to be that for myself. I don’t need a cool Arab girl celebrity who’s into fashion or music. I’ll be that. I don’t need an Arab academia girl character. I’ll be that too. There’s no such thing as not looking Arab enough bc Arabs are so diverse. It’s okay that I’m not religious bc Arab culture is not solely defined by religion, and even if it were Arabs are not a hive mind and everyone engages w their culture in vastly different ways (which is okay!! It doesn’t make me any less Arab). I’ll literally just discard other people’s preconceived notions and trailblaze my own path!! I’ll be my own Arab girl representation. I refuse to fit myself into any preexisting mold. I like what I like and the rest just falls into place.

I think that’s why I’ve been so vocal about my Iraqi heritage lately… I’m literally healing my relationship w my roots in real time. Even advocating for Palestine is feeding into that in major ways. It’s legit all coming together for the first time in my life. Now I’m so proud to be Arab—to be Iraqi—that the idea that anyone could shame me for it is as incredulous as it is hilarious. Iraq is literally called the Cradle of Civilization & you want to make me feel BAD for being Arab… for being Iraqi… it’s just impossible bc I can’t imagine myself being anything else. I’m so content to have my multicultural background and to be who I am. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

It’s also cool that I have people following me, that they could also be exposed to diverse facets of Arab culture bc of that, but tbh a lot of this is also purely for me. I want the Iraq tag to be flooded w beautiful Iraqi poetry and beautiful Iraqi art and beautiful Iraqi cinema as I familiarize myself w Iraqi culture more and more, bc there’s so much more to it than the Iraqi War stats that pop up when you look it up on here.

I’m a 21 year old girl AND I’m Arab. That’s literally double the self-discovery to work through. Fortunately I think I’m finally cultivating a strong sense of self, so I really don’t think anything anyone has to say could deter me from my path (whether it be in terms of reconnecting w the beauty of my Arab heritage or legit just growing into my own). It’s not always perfect by any means, but I’ve made so much headway. And absolutely nothing could take away from that.

#I had a LOT of thoughts on this but thank u for giving me the opportunity to rly unravel this anon <3 <3 <3 #I still have a lot of things to go to therapy for lmao but suppressing my Arab roots is absolutely one thing I’ll never have to talk about #the confused Arab girl who was disconnected from her heritage is DEAD give me all the Iraqi history books I want to devour them all #ask #arab tag

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fortunatetragedy · 7 days

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wip excerpt time

Poking Khalid with reminders he's a literal child in this arc is funny to me and I have to get it out of my system bc next chapter the setting-appropriate violence kicks in.

Today Tumblr I have for you 600 first draft words where Khalid is getting ready to go on an assignment with his new cabal/research team in "A Living Machine" and straight up not having a good time.

Also Cayden accidentally foreshadowed "Among the Elements" and I howled.

I want to look over everyone's shoulders at their wips so I'm tagging. Give me however much you want. If you're out of words, send giraffe pictures. Khalid likes giraffes.

@aintgonnatakethis @autism-purgatory @byronicbi @cowboybrunch

@deanwax @minamaybe @noblebs @words-after-midnight

The storage facility was independently owned, and had been, according to Thiago's information retrieval, since the early 2030s. If an actual human being still ran the establishment, their name wouldn't be available without digging deep enough to risk a Technocratic Union daemon catching them. Anything they did, they had to do with purpose, and they had to do with speed. "We don't have time to fuck around," Luz said, tying her duo-toned hair back into a bun. "Thiago, I want you to stay with the van and make sure nobody tries to come in after us." "No problem," said Thiago. He unwrapped a lollipop as he spoke. "You know I don't want to be out here any longer than I have to be." "None of us do," Marisa grumbled. "These masks will filter out any particulate matter in the air but it isn't going to do anything about the radiation. If your counters start to go off, I don't want to hear any arguing." Khalid must have had about twenty pounds of equipment on his eighty-five-pound frame. He did not complain, but his face registered the effort of remaining upright under the weight of what they asked him to carry. "I don't need all this stuff," he said, "I have my own equipment." "We need some of that stuff," Luz said. "And unless you have combat training I'm unaware of--" "I have a forcefield." They couldn't help it. At least, Luz couldn't. Luz burst into laughter that she cut back before she could get rolling. Cayden looked uncomfortable, Marisa was bored, and Khalid wasn't able to discern the expression on Thiago's face. Sat cross-legged in the back of the vehicle, its innards emptied of seats so they could fit more equipment inside, the laptop's command console reflected in Thiago's glasses. He had stopped paying attention to what was happening inside the van. "Khalid," Marisa said, patient, because she could tell he was about ready to leave the van and complete the damned assignment himself, "honey, you need a resonance dampener. If they're able to detect recent Experimentation, you are..." "You're practically glowing," Cayden said with a laugh. Not unkindly. "Ah," Khalid said. Great. Much like the others, Khalid had been quite busy this evening. Unlike the others, he had been alone when the Storyteller came to collect him. Deep in study, thinking about the future. Must have forgotten to run himself through the scrubber before he left again. He didn't leave the dormitory very often. He remained quiet for long enough that even Luz noticed. "What's wrong, Khalid?" she asked. "Did I hurt your feelings?" "No," he said, frowning, "I have finals next week, and instead of studying for them, I'm out here helping you. And you're belittling me." "Finals?" Marisa interrupted. "I thought you were working on your dissertation." "Yes, well, I am, but the Chair of Etheric Biology offered me the opportunity to complete a second degree prior to commencement of the fall semester. As of right now, I only have the one." "You're twelve." "I know that." "What could you possibly need to study? You know everything." "No, I'm able to augment my own neurocognitive capacity with Noetic Science, which allows me to condense how much I absorb at once. All I know is that I don't know enough. I have to keep studying. That's why this is such a pain in the ass." Swearing wasn't particularly gratifying. It only seemed to make the adults want to laugh again. "Either way," Luz said, overtop her ex-wife, "Khalid, I am sorry that I belittled you. Alright? We'll make leaving your cave worthwhile." He nodded, chewing on his actual response a little longer to make sure he really had it broken down. Then he swallowed. "Alright," he agreed. "Let's go."

#wip: a living machine #c: khalid abandonato #wip excerpt

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a-dinosaur-a-day · 11 months

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I think the big thing with me and the "birds are dinosaurs" thing is that you can google it. If you type, in google, "are birds dinosaurs", it answers YES. And provides SOURCES. LOTS OF THEM.

So I am constantly barraged with an infinite stream of ignorant tags and replies and comments on my posts of people who a) think they already know everything about dinosaurs even though I guarantee they did not study it extensively in school because education on prehistoric life royally sucks across the world, and b) did not even bother to double check.

It's a painful example of human arrogance as well as reminding me how broken our education is around the world (we've known birds were full dinosaurs since the eighties. they SAY IT in Jurassic Park).

And all any of these folks ever have to do is just type it into google.

Like, can you blame me for losing my patience? I only have so many spoons! It's hard enough being a nonbinary, intersex, physically disabled, fat, visibly Jewish person in paleontology! Like! I have enough on my plate trying to do my dissertation! Just take a second to google!!!!

this is not directed at anyone because I am not blaming anyone for this, just the general culture that encourages not questioning your own assumptions or knowledge. like. it's okay to be uncertain. you can google things. it's not a sign of failure, guys. it's a sign of growth. if you don't admit you don't know things, you'll never grow.

#rant #dinosaurs #birds #palaeoblr #birblr

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vigilskeep · 1 year

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"Anyway, Hawke chose Anders over me, so they have to die." HARKER???? HARKER EXPLAIN HOMIE??? You can't put your rambles in the tags and expect us NOT to read them. Of course, we'll read them. This is the dissertation blog.

NOT IN LIKE A RELATIONSHIP WAY i mean during the last straw

i think the strength of sebastian’s reaction when he goes for his full wicked witch of the west monologue is due to a lot of things, and one of them is that it’s a very personal betrayal. elthina isn’t all sebastian has; elthina and hawke are all sebastian has. the codex for what he’s been doing since act 2 says, “sebastian was heard saying that he will not leave kirkwall as long as both the champion and the grand cleric need him.” hawke is his closest friend and ally, and he is here in kirkwall to defend hawke and serve loyally at their side as much as he is here for the grand cleric. in the last straw, regardless of how else you think about the chantry explosion from other perspectives, hawke’s friend/lover murders the (both emotionally and religiously) most important person in sebastian’s life and destroys his home (also the central religious building of his faith).

keir, who with the loss of elthina is the most important person in sebastian’s life left, stands by anders after he does that. that’s bad enough for sebastian even if his life hadn’t already been turned upside down before by his family being murdered and the murderers going unpunished while all his family’s supposed allies did nothing. (it’s also part of my canon that sebastian and keir became close friends in the aftermath of all that remains, because sebastian could relate to that specific grief, which adds a fresh layer of unimaginable hurt to keir still loving and protecting elthina’s murderer.) when everything in sebastian’s life suddenly goes to hell, keir abandons him and chooses anders, and the personal nature of that betrayal is very present imo. they don’t put “your precious anders!” in that speech for nothing

i do think that sebastian already having spent years struggling with his commitment to his chantry vows while his closest friend is just right there all the time in a committed publicly affectionate relationship exacerbates that in a lot of ways. sebastian’s very uncertain about what is right and what might or might not be a corrupting influence. his discomfort with anders further muddies the issue; in act 3 he’s suspicious of anders’ plans, and tells a hawke romancing anders that they should be careful of him because anders is a dangerous and selfish man. he also tries to get anders to rethink rebellion in party banter, because for hawke’s sake it matters if anything happens to anders. i think it would be weird if all of the complexity of how he feels abt their relationship—and a degree of envy for that relationship, i think, whether that’s for the idea of relationships and physical affection and whatnot in general, or possibly conflated with some never-articulated-even-in-his-own-head feelings for hawke in particular that come with the intensity of his loyalty—didn’t feed into how sebastian responds to the last straw

#keir hawke

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unclekoopus · 1 month

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Art theory states that art should have intention. A dissertation on "AI Art".

A disclaimer first of all that I am someone that has dived deep into AI image generation, I've worked with and created my own models and generated my own images using the open source code. I did this to understand what it is and how it works and I'd say I understand it more than most artists that talk about it online. I feel confident saying that I know what I'm talking about in this matter. I know its capabilities and limitations.

I'm not going to get into the morality of the use of it. I won't defend the rampant theft and copyright violations, I'm someone that believes that AI image gen at the very least should never be used for commercial purposes, but in this post I only want to talk about something else: Tte plain and simple merits of AI art as "Art" itself.

I'll start with repeating my premise statement: "Art theory states that art should have intention in order to be art." Does AI generation meet this criteria? Well, no, not really. Specifically it's not an image generation user's "art" if it is art at all.

With pattern biased algorithmic image generation, AKA "AI art”, someone pressing a button after typing in a prompt just doesn’t amount to a person actually picking and choosing their subject, their composition, and ESPECIALLY their meaning and message. The result is most definitely not the button-pusher's art, the generation is too random and what comes out belongs far more to the machine than to the prompter.

And a machine cannot by itself cogently make the essential choices to make an image successfully have intent. Language models we currently have cannot communicate a person's intent to the machine beyond a few broad strokes tags and trigger words, and pattern bias will often supercede those prompts anyway. A discerning eye will always be able to tell which decisions were made by a machine because it is not making them in the way a human being would, they appear uncanny in the most basic way. The generator is not understanding and interpreting the space and subject in the way that someone who lives and breathes with binocular vision and a human's infinitely more adaptable brain would.

The generator is incapable of truly understanding stylization or design principals, and all its continual, persistent mistakes in numbers of fingers, in anomalous anatomy, and broken gestalt, in nonsensical perspective, and merged and floating objects are a byproduct of this lack of living intelligence. These are things that will never go away, no matter how much data is fed into it because it is flawed at the core by the very basis of its pattern bias. It cannot "learn" how to fix them and so it can only hope to, at best, get lucky enough, or generate enough iterations of the same prompt that the images won't show the cracks. And that process is not creative, it's gambling at a slot machine hoping for a payout.

AI gen really is just a parlor trick at this moment in time, it’s a parrot that’s been taught to repeat phrases in response to certain stimuli to fool you into thinking you’re having a conversation, but it’s just really been trained to recognize noises, not meaning. It's a very pretty bird, but it's no replacement for the real thing, and the longer you "talk" with it, the more obvious that will become.

Art, the real art that the machine is trying and failing to learn from and replicate, requires a human’s creativity and problem solving to be able to make the decisions that will create a piece of art that someone can confidently call their own.

#ai art #text #art theory #anti ai

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qweenexplosionmurder · 6 months

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tagged by @mx-sinisters tysm for the tag !! ♡

alias/name: carmen

birthday: october 19

zodiac: libra

height: 5'2" / 157 cm

hobbies: listening to music, reading and writing, crocheting, daydreaming, watching anime and youtube, playing video games esp stardew valley, the sims 4 and animal crossing

favorite color: black

favorite book: misery by stephen king

last song: whispers by halsey

last movie/show: horimiya, im enjoying it a lot !!

recent read: im halfway thru the woman in me by britney spears, i rlly like autobiographies

inspiration: music and dreams !! i get most of my ideas while listening to music or sleeping

story behind url: one of Bakugou's rejected ideas for his hero name

fun fact: i was gonna get an honors mention for my undergraduate dissertation but i couldn't because this motherfucker failed me when i was in second semester bc he thought "i hadn't learned enough" in his class that wasn't even important for my degree 💀💀💀 f that guy

create a color palette of your name here

so prettyyyyyy

no pressure tags !! @pogkitty , @babyboybokuto & @poorlywrittenwhorror

#me 🐸

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ptersparkers · 2 years

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scenes from a diner (three)

summary: a small diner off of a freeway exit becomes a sacred meeting place for you and aaron hotchner.

notes: at this point, this lil series is just me living in my own head. some of you asked to be tagged so i hope you enjoy! x

warnings: typical criminal minds violence and typos, probably.

series masterlist

***

“No way,” comes Betty’s voice from the other end of the line.

You’re sitting in your office on campus, waiting for your next meeting with a student. Betty’s also a PhD candidate (albeit in a different department), but she’s not on campus today. It’s one in the afternoon and you know she gets off of her shift in an hour. It mustn't be busy if she’s able to hold a conversation with you. If there’s one thing you hate about Betty, it’s that she doesn’t have any classes on Friday.

“Yes way,” you reply, putting your head between your hands.

While you didn’t end up dreaming of Aaron when you fell asleep, he was your first thought when you woke up and you were sure you were going crazy. You remembered the way he looked in his button up, the way he loosened his tie, and the way he walked you to your car when the night ended. You could see him through your rearview mirror as you drove out of the parking lot and it took everything inside of you to keep driving.

“He’s such a gentleman,” Betty says through the phone. She sighs for dramatic effect and you can hear faint chatter and the bar music in the background. “God, your life is literally a Nicholas Sparks book.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining. I’m seeing him again today.”

“Shut up,” Betty squeals. “Like, are you guys going on a date?”

“We’re meeting back at the diner,” you explain. “We haven’t even exchanged phone numbers, Betty. I don’t think we know each other well enough to go on a date.”

“That’s what dates are for,” she emphasizes. “To get to know each other. You know, like dating.”

It’s easy to lose yourself in your daydreams, particularly when Aaron’s involved. This is all so new to you; the idea of a perfect gentleman entering your life seemed like it would happen to anyone but you. Your ideas of romance from your childhood bring themselves to the forefront of your memory and you find your mind wondering about what could be.

Even with Betty’s encouraging comments and Aaron seemingly interested in you, you’re a bit shocked that this seemingly fairytale-like chance encounter happened to you. You’ve never felt quite in your own skin when it comes to relationships and have had your fair share of moments where you’ve quietly stepped off to the side because people have approached your friends. The awkward high school days of watching your friends experience their first dates, kisses, and romances have never been lost on you. People chalked it up to being a late bloomer, but a small voice in the back of your head told you otherwise. Aaron wanting to spend time with you just as much as you wanted to spend time with him is a strange feeling, but it’s not unwelcomed.

You hum. “I guess. But it was really late and we were both tired. At least one of us said something.”

“I will beat your ass if you don’t get his number this time,” Betty says. “I’m serious, Y/N. This could very well be the start of something great. Magical, even.”

Oh, Betty. She’s a romantic.

“We’ll see,” is all you offer. “Sometimes I feel so awkward around him. Did I mention that he works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit?”

“No way! Isn’t that what you’re studying for?”

“Close,” you chide. “I don’t think I want to work for the FBI but they use a lot of analytical tools that I’m writing about for my dissertation.”

“If that isn’t reason enough to jump his bones, then I don’t know what is,” Betty replies. “It’s like the universe pushed you two together for a reason. He catches bad guys and you can pick his brain.”

“I don’t know about that. We spent most of last night working anyway.”

“At the same table,” Betty points out.

“We somewhat got to know each other. He told me he's from Seattle and moved to D.C. to escape the rain.”

“I don’t blame him,” Betty says. From the way she tuts, you can tell she’s grimacing on the other end. Betty’s not a fan of heavy downpour.

“He asked about my family,” you say quietly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you reply with a shrug. “I mean, he didn’t know.”

“Yeah, but after years of hearing you talk about people asking you about your family out of the blue, I can imagine it gets hard.”

“You’re not wrong.”

You hear a knock at the door and see your next appointment pop their head in and you motion for them to come inside.

“I’ll call you later,” you say, hanging up the phone when she makes a point to tease you about Aaron once more.

You push your feelings aside for now.

***

By the time it’s three o’clock, you’re walking into the diner. It’s a bit more packed than usual for a Friday afternoon, but you pay for a cup of coffee (Jade, your least favorite former coworker, is working the register and she makes you pay for all of the coffee you consume) before taking a seat at the next available booth. Another waiter you don’t recognize brings you your coffee and you politely thank him.

You decide not to pull out the stack of papers you have left to grade. While waiting for Aaron, you absentmindedly scroll through your phone (Instagram is your favorite way to pass the time) and make a mental note of things you need to buy from Target when the weekend approaches. It’s a long list and you grimace when you think about how much money you’ll eventually be spending.

It’s fifteen minutes past three and you’re starting to worry. You figure he’s running late from a meeting or something else of equal importance, but you sit anxiously in your seat that has become warm.

You curse yourself for not asking for his phone number last night. You rationalize that Aaron had been the one to ask to see you again, and that has to mean he genuinely wanted to see you again, right? Another ten minutes goes by and you’ve become a little annoyed at his lack of appearance and stare at everything between the kitchen and the people sitting in the booths. You look ahead at the entrance with every chime of the doorbell and you’re constantly disappointed when you don’t see a pristine suit-wearing gentleman walk through the doors.

You try not to let your insecurities get the better of you, but your mind flashes back to every instance where you felt like you were short from being the girl people wanted to get to know. It’s hard to think otherwise when it seems like everyone meets the love of their life while you’re forced to watch from the sidelines.

Rudy walks by your table a minute later and he shoots back to you when he passes your spot.

“Hey, kiddo!” Rudy greets. You give him a closed-mouth smile and try not to let your disappointment show. He’s holding a few dirty plates in one hand and fishes inside of his shirt pocket for a small white card and hands it to you.

“What’s this?” you ask.

“Aaron stopped by the diner a little bit ago and said he had to leave town,” Rudy explains. “He told me to give that to you when you came.”

Rudy leaves after you take the card from him and you sit back in your seat with a small frown. This must be the intense workload Aaron talked about.

You see the FBI’s insignia on the card, as well as his office’s phone and extension. You’re apprehensive about whether or not to give him a call because you don’t want to bother him while he’s at work, but if Aaron told Rudy to give you his business card, it must mean he wants to. That’s what you rationalize to yourself.

Frankly, you sit with the card in your hands for a few minutes, trying to come up with the best plan of action (which you realize is useless, considering nothing bad will come out of calling the number). Would it be rude of you to call him while he’s at work? Is he expecting you to call him? What if he gave Rudy his card so he’d never have to face you again?

You realize the last thought is just your fear of rejection talking, so you dial his number and his extension. It goes to voicemail.

You wonder if you’re bothering him by calling him. Maybe he declined the call because he was busy. Or maybe he didn’t have his phone on him. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to you at all. You try to push self-deprecating thoughts out of your head.

His email sits below his phone number and you pull out your laptop and craft a message before you can think about it.

‘Aaron,

I hope you’re well. I’m sure receiving this email from me is going to come off as a bit strange, but I figured you might expect one from me since you told Rudy to give me your business card. I tried calling your office extension but it went to voicemail. So email it is.

Anyway, hi! I’m currently sitting in the diner and it’s a bit more crowded than I anticipated. The coffee’s burnt, but I suppose that’s what diner coffee is.

I’m not sure where you are but I’m going to assume you’re in a meeting or working, and you can’t step away from your office. It’s okay, though. I’ll have enough coffee for the both of us.

Best, Y/N’

You reread the email and change the structure of each sentence before ultimately deciding that there’s no “perfect” message you could send him. It reads decent enough, less formal but more formal than familiar. You type his email, double check that you typed it currently, and send it.

You choose not to obsess over your inbox to see if he emailed you back. Instead, you get to work and keep your promise about drinking coffee for him and for yourself.

***

Betty’s on her way to your apartment after a brief agreement to go out on a Friday night.

Before she arrives, you check your email once last time. It’s been gnawing at you all afternoon and you’re pleasantly surprised that you made it two hours without checking your inbox. The anticipation gets to you as you sit on your couch with your phone in your hand, and your heart leaps out of your chest when you see his name.

‘Y/N,

I’m well, thank you for asking. I’m sorry about standing you up today - my team and I had to travel out of state for a case we got called into. Part of the job intensity. Sorry again.

As for your email, I don’t think it’s strange. Happy to hear from you, especially since I left you stranded at the diner (again, I apologize). I hope the coffee was as good as can be and that you got some work done.

I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I’d love to get a cup of coffee with you soon.

All the best, Aaron’

You feel your cheeks heat up. You’re slightly disappointed that you didn’t see Aaron today but your worries are put to rest when you realize he was preoccupied with work. You know it’s presumptuous of you to think he might be blowing you off (considering neither of you know each other that well), but it makes you feel better nonetheless.

You type out a response.

‘Aaron,

All is forgiven. I hope you and your team make it back safely. No need to apologize.

Phew! Glad to hear that you’re not weirded out. I typed out a million drafts before deciding to just send you an email…I think Rudy could tell I was overthinking it. I don’t mean to bother you at all.

As for coffee, I’d love to.

Looking forward to it, Y/N’

You send the email and close your phone when Betty texts you that she’s on her way up. Feeling bold, you unlock your phone and reply to your previous email with your phone number and tell him to give you a call or text you when he has the time.

Betty’s knocking on your door and you can already smell the scent of Thai food from behind it. Aaron’s email is long forgotten when you dig into the meal and the both of you decide that, after this long and strange week, it’s the perfect opportunity to pretend you have the energy to party like undergrads again.

It’s nightfall when you and Betty find yourselves in a familiar bar near your apartment. The bartender, Mike, seems a little too interested in Betty and keeps supplying the both of you with free drinks. It’s enough to make your head spin in the best way and Betty’s not exactly denying the attention either.

You’re on your third drink (not including the shots you took at your apartment) when your phone rings. The both of you are sitting in a relatively quiet part of the bar, so you don’t make the effort to walk outside to take the phone call. When you look at the contact, you don’t recognize it.

“Hello?” you say into the phone.

“Y/N?”

It’s Aaron.

Oh God, it’s Aaron.

You aren’t sobering up any time soon, that much you know for sure. You’re still dizzy, even though you’re sitting on a stool and your back is against the wall. Betty’s at the bar, flirting with Mike and trying to get the next round for free (again) as you’re finishing your drink from the little plastic straw. You know you’d spill on yourself otherwise.

“Hi,” is what you offer. Your inebriated brain can’t handle your awkwardness. “Oh my God, hi Aaron.”

Did your voice go up two octaves?

Aaron chuckles from the other side.

“Hi, Y/N.” God. The way he says your name makes you swoon. “I wanted to call and apologize for standing you up.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you say a little too quickly. “It’s fine, really.”

“I feel bad that I wasn’t able to tell you before I left. It got a little crazy at work.”

“I’ll bet,” you reply. You finish your drink and can hear the slurping of the ice.

“Are you out?” Aaron asks, amused. You’re sure you can hear the teasing tone in his voice and you know you’re going to hate yourself for being drunk while talking to Aaron on the phone when you wake up.

“Me and Betty are at a bar near my place,” you say, slurring your words. “I had two drinks, no three? Plus a lot of alcohol at home.”

Aaron’s laugh is deep and it sends you into a wave of pleasure.

“Betty?” he asks.

“My best friend,” you explain. “Since I moved to D.C.”

“I hope you and Betty are having a great night,” he muses. “Can’t say the same for me, though.”

You pout. “Why not?”

“Too much stress,” he says. “Nothing I can talk about right now, but let’s just say I’ll have my fair share of paperwork when I get back.”

“All the more reason to see you at the diner, Aaron.”

Oh God, were you flirting?

You hear Aaron chuckle. His laugh is so attractive, but you don’t tell him that.

“Sure is,” says Aaron. “I anticipate being home in a few days. Maybe we can meet at the diner when I’m back?”

“I would love that, Aaron.”

You don’t know what you hate more, the fact that you can’t stop saying his name or the fact that he clearly knows you want to see him. Your drunk-mindedness doesn’t let you linger on it for too long.

“I’d love that too.”

You see Betty approach the table with two glasses in hand.

“Who’s that?” she asks.

“Betty, I presume?” Aaron asks from the other line.

“Yes,” you say as Betty raises her eyebrow in confusion. You turn to her. “It’s Aaron.”

“Like, hot Aaron?” she squeals. You pull the phone away from her and your cheeks redden. You pray that Aaron didn’t hear that.

“Betty, please shut up,” you plead. Betty just laughs and takes another sip of her drink, pushing yours in your direction. You put your phone back to your ear. “I’m sorry, Betty’s a chatterbox when she’s drunk.”

“You’re one to talk!” Betty exclaims from beside you.

“It’s okay,” Aaron laughs. He doesn’t let you know that he heard her comment to save you from embarrassment. “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Aaron,” you hiccup.

“Get home safely, Y/N. I’ll see you soon.”

***

taglist: @darkenwolfie @ssamorganhotchner @realdirectionx <3

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner blurbs #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshots #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds blurbs #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds blurb #my writing #scenes from a diner

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captainjunglegym · 3 months

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Seven Sentence Sunday - 11/02/2024

hello. oh ho ho. have i been having A Time™️ at grad school recently. I'm going to a much more 'prestigious' uni for my postgrad compared to my undergrad and man. I am dumb compared to these 23 year old ex private school kids!!!! they're v nice but they make memes about Descartes and Foucault and I'm just sat there like. Hurrburrrrburrr my Masters dissertation is on Star Trek and i dont know how to spell resterrautnt

Anyways enough of my crying. I was tagged by the ever wonderful grace @eusuntgratie! I can't count so here's a handful of sentences!

Sneak of the next chapter of my main WIP

No.1 (Royal Red and Blue) Oil on Canvas.

"Will you do anything I say?" Henry asks, idly tracing a finger over Alex's throat. No, Alex should say, no you are completely unhinged. "Of course, anything," is what he blurts out huskily, his throat quivering under Henry's touch as he swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. Henry's eyes snap up to his and he smiles like Alex has a agreed to give him a hundred million dollars and a blow job. Alex doesn't have a hundred million dollars, but he'd fucking love to suck that cock. Henry leans close, lips brushing Alex's earlobe, and whispers, "then mind your fucking business, or I'll put you over my knee."

i hope and pray to god that i am not going to sit and cry all week again and so i'll be able to update 'invitation to' and some other stuff.

no pressure tags for the writing moots, and anyone else who wants to get involved @anincompletelist @bigassbowlingballhead @sunnysideprince @nocoastposts

#writing tag #firstprince fic

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sipsteainanxiety · 9 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

i was tagged by @coopigeoncoo @andypantsx3 @willowser and @namodawrites to do this lil self fic rec game and after finally sitting down to think about it for a very... long... time... i have done it! thank you all for the tag i kiss you each on the forehead and give you a bowl of sliced fruit<3

after looking at all the wips i have in docs right now, i can definitely say that this list would be completely different if i had finished a few of them, but for now this is my ranked list for things i've published already lol

devil's glare — demon!bkg x reader

bakugou katsuki is a powerful demon that you have the pleasure of dating. but when he pisses you off one day, you decide to get back at him in a pretty petty way: drawing a salt circle around you to force him to apologize

i had THEE most fun writing this one shot LMAO. it was based on a tiktok of all things that i'd found back when i was still on the app pfft. i just loved the idea of bkg being all surly and aggravated that his little human had purposely drawn a salt circle to prevent him from encroaching on their space. and like... him dealing with wanting to idk kiss you so bad but you're trying to teach him a lesson and he's sooooo mad and fuck, he's gonna do whatever he can to get you to comply to him lmao. if i could draw, there's this one scene where you're wearing this like. cute little set of pjs staring up at this big ass demon, wings unfurled threateningly, snarl on his face, arms crossed with a line of salt in between the two of you. like i have a vision. too bad i can't draw it LMFAOO. maybe one day

2. holding out (just for you) — dragon!bkg x reader

in which you find a horrendously injured dragon in a cave and make it your duty to heal him, not knowing that he’s the infamous dragonshifter, bakugo katsuki, who has been cursed to remain trapped in his dragon form forever—unless the spell is broken

this fic... oh boy. i've been working on this fic since mmm 2021 i think? i can't believe it's been a year since the big bang LMFAOO. i also can't blv this shit evolved from being a standalone to having 3 spinoffs and a sequel but well. here we are. complaints aside i really do have fun writing this fic!! i dunno!! i dont think i'd ever read a dragon bkg fic before and i was like fine i'll do it myself and this happened. i added way too much plot and you guys don't even know about half the worldbuilding and shit i have planned for the sequel HAHA. i can't even talk about it bc it would be major spoilers rn rhrsfjhrjfrjrhjg. it's also been giving me such a rough time lately pfft, especially with having to make sure everything lines up for the spinoffs n stuff. im so afraid of publishing ch4 and having to go back and tweak things bc i havent planned out far enough sdkjfsjkdf. i think it just means i'm gonna have to go on a hiatus or smthn and write out all the spinoffs + ch4 at once idk

3. and i give my all (to you) — merman!bkg x reader

you think you bit off more than you could chew when you decided to do your dissertation on ocean acidification, leaving you stranded out in the open ocean. alone. for months. well… maybe you weren’t so alone after all

this is another fic that i've been working on way longer than it's been posted for pfft. i can't blv the first chapter was released over a year ago LMAOOO i am so sorry. i do like this fic tho bc it's one of the easier ones to write and i go back to it sometimes between writing for dragon bkg lol. like i have the chapters all mapped out, all i have to do is sit down and write em. ch2's at abt 3k rn tho and i hit a spot where i'm like oof i dont wanna write these descriptions dfhdkfg it's just a silly goofy story with merbaku and dealing with some of the subtle intricacies of getting to know a mermaid. actually, fun fact, this originally started off as a fic for jotaro from jjba, back when i was in my jjba era. but then i went back to my bkg era and switched it over. i didn't even have to change much LMFAOO jotaro and bkg act the same sometimes. also!! this is the first fic where i'm like... drawing little doodles for each chapter!! and it's so nice but also i'm like damn wtf do i draw for the rest of these chapters.... i'll figure it out ig

4. loving all the parts of you — pro hero!bkg x reader

in which you learn to love all the prickly parts that make up bakugou katsuki

i.. don't think i've thought about this fic for a very, very long time. but i just scrolled thru the masterlist and stuff and i... really liked writing it (when i was focused on it anyways). it's one of my gentler fics tbh. it's more of a character study of bkg, exploring a different aspect of him in each chapter. tbh i need to go through and reread it and make edits so it can better match the writing style i have now, but i rly liked thinking abt what would make bkg tick as a pro and as a person. and tbh, with what i know now of the manga and anime i think i could go very deep with it pfft. also the banner i made for this fic is so cute LOL. it's not high on my priority list rn bc i have other things i wanna work on, but i do hope to return to it one day.

5. forget me not — pro hero!bkg x reader

When you first woke up, you found yourself in a white room, lights blinding you from all directions. A bit disoriented, you squinted and looked around, realizing you were chained to a chair, your arms locked behind you. In front of you was a poster of a man, muscles rippling throughout his body, a spiky mess of ash blond hair nestled on his head, and striking crimson eyes glaring right at you from behind a black mask. In the upper right corner was the name “DYNAMIGHT” in black and orange letters. As you observed the poster, the sound of a P.A. system suddenly rang into existence, the deep, hoarse voice of an unknown person echoing around you. “Your name is [Name] [Surname],” the voice said without emotion, “and you hate the man named Bakugou Katsuki.”

THIS FIC... THIS FCKIN FIC. i have so much i can say about this fic and i am so sorry for the oncoming ramble pfft. firstly, it's both my baby and my number one fucking enemy. like, holy shit i think it gave me the most paralyzing anxiety and bc of this it took me like 3-4 years to finish (apart from being generally busy of course). i started it literally while i was in high school n applying to college, so of course there are aspects of it that i look at now and i'm like mmm don't like that. not to mention there have been so many things that happened in the anime/manga that i wasn't able to add or delve deeper into!! like the war!! bkg's fcking trauma!! midoriya's quirks!! i was an anime only when i first started releasing chapters (and i still am), so i didnt know about the endeavor agency arc or anything so i defaulted to shit with best jeanist and idkidk.

if i could rewrite all of fmn, i think i would. or maybe not all, but a good chunk of it. like i'd condense the first few chapters probably. i also have a different grasp of bkg's characterization now compared to when i was younger lmao. putting bkg in that specific circumstance (iykyk, i wont spoil it) only happened bc of certain outside factors that forced him into that position. which was how i was able to justify it. but... idk. IDK!! this fic had so many things to it that i was not knowledgeable about so i winged a lot of things without doing proper research (i.e. hospitals, police investigations, general bureaucracy and whatnot) and i feel like this has caused certain plot holes that i am not able to detect, but like.... it's been so long already that i'm too lazy to fix it.

i just really wanted to write about having amnesia but... still having this muscle memory and ache of the person you were in love with. that you can fall in love with them all over again. but, jeez, i put the reader through so much that there's so much... trauma and brainwashing and just rhhrhjrkhrhgrkjg. she's a mess and a half!! and this makes it so difficult to read fmn bc she's so frustrating!! but! at the same time idk it was interesting exploring that kind of ptsd and recovery. i think at my core i love writing about truly heartwrenching topics and horror. i rmb i had the most fun writing about reader's nightmares or that one chapter where she was messing around with illusions. actually- one of the things i would change is the reader's fckin quirk and hero name LMAOOOOO what the fuck i made her so op i basically just smashed together dr strange's and wanda's powers for her pfft. i'd also tweak her personality a little, i think.

i digress. anyways. im in the process of editing all of fmn (just like. writing tweaks. changing the phrasing of certain sentences. adding more fluff to descriptions) and i can really see how much my style has evolved lol. like, i am the most happy and proud of the later chapters, where you can really feel certain emotions with bkg and reader. like... the beach scene, or the stakeout scene, or the party scene!! i think i would also add more substance to the investigation and how being a hero is like post-war. the antagonists as well!! there's just so much that could've been built on, but at the same time... i didn't want to go too deep into it bc i was writing an amnesia recovery story.

flaming aside, i am very glad i was able to pull those plot twists successfully LOL. i loved reading people's theories back when i was still updating it, seeing them question things and being like wait a minute... no way... it can't be... it was an era i will never forget pfft. but... because of that expectation i think i was very nervous to reveal specific things or even write the ending bc i didn't know if people would be satisfied lol. fmn was so complicated and for what sdfkjhs. fanfic shouldnt make you this anxious fr and yet there i was. i'm glad im done with it, but at the same time.. i do miss it.

tldr: fmn is the fic that i am the most proud of but also the most insecure LMFAOO. i do eventually want to get to the extra chapters from bkg's pov for it but... idk. i don't wanna even look at it right now sdhfskdfjsf

thank u all for coming to my ted talk B) i'm sorry if u've been tagged alr in this but here we go anyways!! no pressure tags: @earthtooz @call-me-ko @thecatduet422 @boo-kugo @theloveinc <3

#jeez that fmn ramble rly is long but it is what it is #i could go on even more about it ngl #but i wont sdkhksdf #gamer girling w shay

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