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taylor-titmouse · 5 months

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The Masson Circle Collection (18+)

OUT NOW!

Even killers can fall in love. Set against a backdrop of early 70s Europe, The Masson Circle is a collection of illustrated queer romance novellas between assassins, thieves, and the criminal mastermind at the middle of them all. Originally released between 2020 and 2021, these three stories have been remastered with revised text, 30 brand new illustrations, and an exclusive bonus story. This collection is roughly 69k words.

All three stories contain some violence, references to alcohol, and explicit sexual content and images. They are intended for adult audiences only. Comes in DRM-free PDF and EPUB formats, and includes an image gallery ZIP containing all book illustrations, plus all the sketchbook content included in the original releases.

Daffodils

Retired assassin Ezra Platt loves his wife, Tessa, more than anything else in the world. For the first time in six years, the two are both in town for their anniversary, which means it has to be made special. What do you get the woman who is your everything, especially when she's an assassin herself? Perhaps the answer lies in Ezra's memories of meeting her...

18.2k words. Features fem dom, face sitting, and pegging.

Carnations

The Duplessis is hosting its biannual masked bacchanal, and art forger and thief Leonard Lacroix has been hired to empty its safe. Infiltrating the classy gentlemen's club is easy, but when he runs into an old flame, getting out with all he wants is not.

17.4k words. Features gay sex in a private office. Contains the use of a homophobic slur.

Laurels

French couturier Mathieu Masson is a man with one foot in the underworld, the one to call for anything from a killing to a Caravaggio. But when a new client demands what he can't give, he has only his bodyguard, Jean Martin, to lean on.

16k words. Features a trans male lead and tender lovemaking. Contains some queerphobia, and references to child sex abuse in a character's past.

This collection also includes Narcissus, Dianthus, and Sweet Bay, each an extra short story connected to their corresponding book, from the perspective of the love interest. Narcissus explores Tessa's memory of her and Ezra's first night together. Dianthus recalls the time Lionel and Leonard fooled around in a professor's office in college. Sweet Bay takes place just before Laurels' epilogue, as Jean and Mathieu settle into their partnership and open up about themselves. Sweet Bay contains discussion of child sex abuse in a character's past.

Read it today!

#taylor titmouse #the masson circle

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luvring · 5 months

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gn!reader | iwaizumi will do a lot of things if you ask, but he's always a little awkward and embarrassed about taking photos of himself. what angle does he use, why's the lighting so bad, this is his "no one will see me" t-shirt, does his smile look forced, etc, etc., which means you only ask every once and a while, mostly as a joke, and never mind when he brushes it off with a laugh.

so when you open your messages to see an unprompted selfie of him, blurry, sitting in dim light, cheeks flushed and biting his lip to stop a grin, shocked is one word you can use to describe yourself. apparently drunk hajime is different from sober hajime, and confident enough to send a second, third photo capturing his night out with his old teammates at karaoke.

and you're not sure if it was their idea or his, but you really can't bring yourself to complain when he accidentally sends a video instead of a photo that perfectly frames his slightly unbuttoned top, messy hair that he runs his fingers through (he's brought up needing a haircut every week for the past month, but keeps pushing off setting an appointment), and raspy laugh as he tells someone off screen to shut up and sing already before turning to you with a smile.

"oh, shit, it's a video."

"pft, are you really that drunk?"

"hiii," someone—you think tooru—singsongs your name.

another complains, his voice muffled by your boyfriend moving the camera, "ugh, can you move over?"

"hi babe." hajime's low, slurred voice brings your attention back to him. "i got 94 on m'last song, jus' so y'know.

"let it go! that was all luck—"

"shut up, it's not my fault y'got 67 and sound like a dying bird. ugh," he seems to lose his train of thought and sniffles. "uh...don't worry, issei's driving m'back. i'll tell you 'bout it when i get home. see you soon, alright? love you."

the video ends, cutting off the beginning of a voice crack and off-pitch note, and the responding cackle that momentarily fills the quiet of your living room.

it's not a hard decision to save everything he's sent to your phone. the real hard decision will be tomorrow, you think, when you have to decide between teasing him to death or helping with his hangover. but then you get another notification—another text from him that reads "Cany ou tell them i'm not gonna sing adell" and you smile.

you can probably do both.

(he does end up singing, but so does everyone else. the video you get is way too loud, and way too close to the microphone, and the phone falls to the floor at some point, but it's saved to your gallery anyway. he makes you promise not to play it the next morning because it's "so headache inducing he could explode.")

#luvring.txt #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #draws hearts with a glittery pen around his name...Iwaizumi....#i keep trying to make rlly short drabbles but theyre always a little longer than intended....hrrrnnnnghh

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bas-writes · 11 days

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Round 1: Hot Singles in Your Area

about, rules & navigation | remember you vote for a character you don't want to advance further

It's the first day of your long-awaited vacation. You've just unpacked, changed into a beach wear, and chosen yourself a cozy sunbed under a sunshade a few steps away from the warm sea. With a sweet drink in your hand, you poke lazily at Tinder, with no particular goal on mind except for an appetite for a hot fling. After all, what's a good trip without spicy stories to tell?

As expected from an area known for its popularity among those who are looking for wide range of sensations, you're soon flooded with a huge number of potential dates. You can be as picky as you want, you learn after a few preliminary swipes left and right—you won't run out of options easily, and if only you had time and strength to do so, you could squeeze a few nice dates out of your location.

This is going to be your most fruitful vacation to date!

Profile One: Toji Fushiguro ELIMINATED

Out of a few photos he added only one includes his face - and it's not even the one set as his profile one. You're welcomed by an awkwardly cut and angled view of his torso and arm holding the phone for a mirror shot, flash blurring the part that would reveal the lower half of his face. It's not something you would expect from a man of this kind of posture. Muscular men like to flex their assets, but he seems to try hiding them. No awkward pose or amount of baggy clothes can help with a body like his, though.

The photo where you can see him whole shows him crouching next to a dog, hand on its back. It's of bad quality but you can catch a glimpse of his expression and it's far gentler than you assumed it to be with what you've already seen.

You can't learn much from the included description. It's short, dry, written with proper grammar and spelling but with no particular care for the impression it carries. He comes across as an extremely lonely, maybe even depressed, person but there's a shadow of unwavering confidence to him. It is somewhat impressive, especially with the glimpse of his musculature visible on the photos.

Profile Two

At the first glance you can tell that this man is...a lot. A lot of charm, a lot of gleam, a lot of photos taken by a shaking hand and always under ridiculously bad angles. Every field possible is filled to its maximum capacity, and even then, a lot of words are slurred into barely legible abbreviations. Only the listed he/him pronouns are normal. You're even a bit surprised that they're so...ordinary and traditional. Such a person could easily use some extravagant neopronouns.

Upon closer look you realize he knows how to dress well. If not for the questionable quality of the photos, you would bet he hired a stylist or is a stylist himself. In contrast to his beaming personality, his style is simple and classic. His outfits could be either embarrassingly cheap or stinking expensive. You can't spot any sports cars nor trendy locations in the background, so you're ready to bet on the first option.

You like his smile, very authentic, almost overdone, adding tons to the striking contrast between his appearance and age listed in the bio. Maybe he's a college junior trying to pass as someone older to attract mature partners? He's too awkward and flamboyant to be suspicious but...yeah, his gallery really looks like a student's.

Profile Three

There are only three photos, taken exactly in the same pose, in outfits so similar to each other that at the first glance they look identical too. The man has a pleasantly looking face, but you can't shake off the impression that he's not fully comfortable posing for a picture. As if he really didn't want to be on a dating app but circumstances forced him to.

The text part of his profile is more promising. His writing style is elegant, perfectly balancing between formal and playful. He knows how to express himself without overwhelming his reader with words. You're ready to assume he's a professional writer, maybe a blogger or a journalist—or that he received excellent education at the very least.

The most impressive is the list of his hobbies and interests. He's truly tried from every plate life can offer—and he still claims to be ready to explore even more. From art and music to astrophysics, he's been everywhere, including a few of your fields. Even if your goals for the date wouldn't meet, you're ready to bet on having some quality time regardless. It seems too good to be earnest, though; with the smoothness behind his words, he could easily make it all up in a convincing way.

Profile Four

He added a few photos but in every one he's dressed in exactly the same suit, as if he didn't have any other presentable clothes. It's not a cheap suit, you can tell as much just from the way it hugs his silhouette. You wouldn't be surprised if he was a politician or businessman, maybe someone who works with finances or trade. His face is pleasant to look at but a bit tense, as if he was expecting danger hiding behind a corner. Maybe he doesn't like to have his pictures taken.

He's very straightforward about his expectations regarding his potential partners—and about what he has to offer to them. It feels a little rude but on the other hand, for someone like you, who definitely fits them, it eliminates the risk of dragging feet through the meeting that had no chance of success in the first place. He's definitely not going to beat around the bush, you're sure you're going to know whether you want to see him face to face after a single conversation.

But despite all of that there's a little feeling of an empty shell. He talks a lot about himself, but you can't say you actually know a thing about him. The distance between you two is far more palpable than on any other Tinder profile you've seen.

Profile Five

There's only one photo of him and despite the casual outfit and setting it feels more appropriate for LinkedIn than Tinder. Even if you can look at him as closely as you want and dig out plenty of information from his surroundings, he still feels like a blank card. It's too earnest to read as a mask or feel off-putting but also too private to slip into any kind of proximity. He has a very calm and pleasant expression and a general vibe of safety to him, but you can't squeeze any other impression out of what you see and it's to a point frustrating.

His description doesn't help you much. It surely was prepared with one of those "perfect Tinder profile" tutorials and filled with necessary data only. It's only one step away from dry if not for the fact he lets you know some aspects of his personality. This caution gets on your nerves a little, but you have to admit you like the style of his words.

One you can say for sure: he must love books and to be in their company. There are more titles listed than his personal data and his photo was taken in a library or a bookshop—as if he tried to tell you this is the environment in which he feels the safest.

Profile Six

You're not sure if you're more intimidated by him or drawn to him. At the first glance you can tell he's a man of great charisma, but you would lie if you said you wouldn't be concerned if you ran into him on the street. The fact that you can't decipher his expression only adds to the tingling sensation at the back of your head. He seems to be bored and proud of himself all at the same time, posing in a non-threatening way yet beaming with energy that has you alert.

The way he writes about himself is very proper and humble. You would expect it more from a scholar than a man who could crush your skull with his bicep if he only wanted. This and the fact that a lot of his photos show him in proximity of food intrigues you. Maybe it's a way to soften his appearance for the eyes of potential date, maybe a genuine liking for cooking and eating.

He puts a lot of pressure on work out and physical activity in general, both in his visual presentation and description. He doesn't have the gymrat energy but you're ready to assume he's a pro athlete, maybe related to martial arts.

Profile Seven

At the first glance you're ready to assume this man is divorced, a single father at best. He's giving this energy in tons, no matter the diversity in his photos. There's always something that gives it away and when you see him on a boat that so obviously is a fishing boat you can't help but laugh. This determination to not look as he knows he looks is endearing. He either really is a divorcé and tries to hide it or keeps getting mistaken for such and losing potential dates because of it.

His description pulls your attention away from feeling. He's way more average than you would assume from a man trying to escape the dilf allegations—but not in a boring way, quite contrary. He presents himself as a kind of a guy who's good to be around for his chameleon-like, low effort attitude. A guy you can meet with without having to be worried for his reaction if the meeting wouldn't go as intended. Or rather: a guy you could meet with exactly when you're looking for company that wouldn't lead you to bed.

You can't help but pinpoint some surrendering in him. Maybe he lost all faith in success in the field of love and kept the profile only out of obligation.

Profile Eight

It's one of the guys that makes you want to swipe right without even taking a second glance. There's something electric about him, something that would make it really hard to refuse, if he asked you for something. Wide smile, eyes beaming with energy, aesthetic yet improvised disarray in hair and clothes—he reminds you of a playful tiny dust devil that can't bring any harm but is strong enough to mess with leaves and other light objects.

He added only three photos and all of them are crowded and taken during parties. There's alcohol and snacks and so many colors it's straining for eyes if you look for too long from closely. He doesn't look like someone who would party hard—well, he doesn't even look his age—but he doesn't look out of place either. It makes sense he would be popular and easy going—and invited to every party in his proximity.

The same energy beams from his words. He's pleasant to read despite the chaotic style and tons of typos. By the time you make it to the last line, you're smiling as bright at him and find yourself hungry for getting more of him. Not in a sexual way, at least not yet, but definitely not weaker than that.

Profile Nine

Oh, this man couldn't possibly hide in the crowd even if he desperately tried to. In all photos he added he tries to look as casually and approachable as possible but he still just...stands out. What's even more interesting, in every photo he seems to be a completely different person. It's the same face and the same body without a doubt but with each he gives a completely different energy, from an extremely awkward ugly duckling to a gorgeous prime peacock. You take a wild guess it depends on whether he was aware of the camera or not—and on who was taking the photo. None of them is a selfie and it has you curious how he would present himself.

His description is curt, and he doesn't use capital letters. He speaks more about his interests than about himself, a lot of them circulate around music but the bands he lists are so obscure you can't recall a single song.

Even so, he gives you an impression of a person who's looking less for a fling and more for a relationship—but nothing is said outright. Maybe he's not sure himself, maybe he doesn't know it's appropriate to be so outright on a dating app.

Profile Ten

You would be really surprised if this man wasn't a professional model. He doesn't say anything about it in his description but the photos he added speak for themselves. He knows how to present himself in the most positive light, smoothly underlining his assets without coming across as narcissistic or pretentious. And he knows how to dress well. His outfits are so meticulous with care it has your chest churning with a little envy.

He smiles in every photo but it's a very faint smile, visible only enough to add warmth to his face. It feels more played than genuine but serves its role right, making him approachable despite the intimidating at first appearance. In one photo he's accompanied by friends or family, and he seems to keep some distance from them, as if he didn't like to be touched.

There's close to no info given about him. Age, pronouns, gender preferences, a little about his interests—and that's it. You learn more about him by scanning through his pictures than from the bits of text. Maybe he's very close and private, maybe he prefers to express himself in a visual way, maybe a bit of both. This shadow of mystery is more intriguing than off-putting, though.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #bas writes #jjk #resort romance

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waves-against-a-cliff · 4 months

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Wanna Try? - Gaz x Reader

Thinking about Gaz in the worst way possible

Thanks to @shotmrmiller for indulging in the brain worms with me.

Content Warnings - DUB-CON. I cannot stress this enough, this is dub-con, pretty much bordering on noncon. Anal, PiV, throat fucking, weed usage, Gaz is maybe kinda lacing the weed. Photos and videos being taken and sent to others without consent!

I've never been high before so; inaccuracies!!

You are responsible for your own media consumption. Don't read this if you KNOW you won't like it.

You had been curious about getting high. You'd never done it before but the way other people talked about, well you were curious. So you brought up with your boyfriend Kyle, asking him about it. He had been open about his personal usage for weed, helps clear his head after coming back from deployment and with the aches in his joints.

So of course he was willing to let you experience the high. He rolled up a blunt and handed it to you, demonstrating the best he could on how to handle the smoke. You coughed and wheezed the first few times but the fuzziness set in almost immediately. "Totally normal love. It's your first time after all."

Your movements are sluggish, it feels like your brain is a static TV. Your tongue feels swollen and heavy, too thick in your mouth. Your words slur like you're drunk and you can vaguely feel Gaz undoing the buttons of your trousers.

"What're doing?" You slur, trying to focus your eyes but find it too difficult so you close them. Some part of your brain acknowledges what he says, even if it's drowned out by the static. He doesn't sound like you do, do you even recall if he had more than one puff?

"Taking care of you. Don't worry."

Vaguely you wonder what can you do? You must've said it aloud because he murmurs something about taking it. Gaz absolutely enjoys seeing how oversensitive you are. Every other sense is dulled down but the way he works your already slick hole open for him. You're overly aware when his hot tongue swipes at your clit but your mouth feels like cotton you can barely moan.

The world spins and you jolt when you feel something push into you. Your nerves are raw, every sensation drawn out and at least tripled. It stings, it burns.

"Kyle," you whine and you feel him slip something sweet into your mouth.

"Chew and swallow dove." He commands and you do as he says, mind numb to the glint in his eyes.

"You can't." You slur.

"You can and will take it."

You wake up sore, it kind of hurts to sit and your memory is fuzzy. You were sure just smoking weed wasn't supposed to give you such fuzzy memories. But Gaz tells you it's normal, it was your first time getting high, what do you know? You suppose that's true and it did feel nice to get out of your head for a little while.

He's pushing you to do another session sometime that week. "You enjoyed it yeah? Let's do another then love."

Convinces you that the reason your throat hurts is because you aren't used to the weed yet. Still, something within your gut is ringing the alarm. That weed wouldn't result in your ass hurting or how sticky your panties are after sobering up.

It's a few weeks later, and several smoke sessions, that you need to use his phone since yours was dead. He handed it to you without thinking and pressed a quick kiss to your lips saying he's heading down to the store to grab a few things for dinner. You can't help but think about how doting he is, how wonderful he's been these last weeks.

It's curiosity that has you checking his gallery app. And maybe a want to find a cute picture he took of himself to use as a new lock screen. Your breathing stops and your stomach rolls when you see his latest videos and photos. Of course there's the usual selfies he takes with that radiate smile but you see pictures of yourself.

Pictures of you looking up into the camera, your lips stretched around his cock and spit dripping down your chin. Eyes glassy with tears and red from the weed. You tap on the most recent video, taken the same day you smoked with him. His hand is in your hair, soft grunts coming from his lips as he pistons his hips against your face. Soft gags coming from you that turn more violent the harder he fucks your throat.

"that's it's dove." He groans and his fist tightens in your hair. You vaguely realize he's coming down your throat.

You slide to the next video. Your ass is in full view of the camera, slapped red and raw. Your back arched as he fucks his cock into your ass. He spreads the cheeks with one hand so he can video it better. Your moaning and mewling in the background that gets louder the harder he fucks you.

"you love this don't you?" You weakly nod your head in response, "love it when your boyfriend uses you while you're high? What a slag." His hand comes down harshly on your ass that results in a yelp from you. You close out of the video, close out of the app and set the phone down.

Just be grateful you didn't look into his messages where he's been sending these pictures and videos to the rest of the task force.

#gaz #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz smut #gaz mw2 #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you

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averageclawcodeenjoyer · 25 days

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"He wants me" - Ganke's dumbass, probably

#across the spiderverse #clawcode #ganke lee #miles 42 #milesganke #prowler miles #prowler party #slur gallery #digital art #miles morales

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rhymer · 12 days

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#origin #gallery #noiao #how we feeling on this one #f slur cw

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writershapeholeonthedoor · 9 months

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Cool kids

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

Summary: Elizabeth meets your son

Disclaimer: English is not my first language; This was requested by one of you 🤗

MASTERLIST

You were just putting the baking pan inside the oven when you heard the doorbell ring from across your small house. Surprised, you looked up at the old clock hanging on the wall above the fridge - and, for a second, you realized how old it actually looked and you wished you had removed it from there before, but there was no time now - and saw that you lost track of time while baking, which wasn’t unusual. That day, though, you were extra nervous about everything and time seemed to have rushed just to spite you.

Noticing you still hadn’t moved, you cursed under your breath and closed the oven before grabbing a dishrag to dry out your hands while you rushed to answer the door. You knew who was waiting for you outside, so you stopped just in front of the door to take a deep breath and steady your heartbeat. Your gaze moved to the side and you caught sight of your four-year-old son playing with his toy cars on the mat, exactly where you had left him when you went to the kitchen, while one of his favorite cartoons played in the background.

It of course wasn’t his fault but your anxiety was mostly because of him and the person standing at the other side of the door. That was the first time your girlfriend would meet your son, something you thought a lot about before going on with that idea. You had been dating Elizabeth Olsen for a bit over four months now and it had been a dream ever since you crossed eyes while being at the same art gallery. You were there to support your friend, but Elizabeth was there because she really enjoyed those types of things, although you quickly bonded while looking at the paintings.

You couldn’t say you had been inseparable ever since because you had your work, your son and a house to take care of all by yourself, and Elizabeth had her own life going on, but you two had seen each other as much as you could. You told her about your son on the same night you met and she had never once made it seem like you being a single mother was a problem to her, but you still waited to introduce her to your son because you wanted to know her better before doing so. Also, you didn’t want to bring someone into your son’s life who would just walk away after that, or someone who didn’t actually care for him. He deserved more than that, especially at such a young age.

It all brought you to that moment, when your nerves were certainly getting the best of you while Elizabeth was still waiting for you to open the door for her. It was also the first time your girlfriend would be inside your house, something that made you much aware of how simple everything you owned was. There was a wall in front of the couch with a huge line drawn with crayons when your son was being a little brat a couple of years ago, the couch had a stain on it from when he dropped his grape juice, and that stupid clock in the kitchen could have been older than yourself.

And that was also not the best time to rethink every decoration in your house, for sure.

Not to mention the fact that this was the first time you were introducing anyone to your kid. You had dated briefly after he was born, but no one stayed around for enough time neither had them made you feel safe again about bringing them to your son’s life. You weren’t nervous about letting Elizabeth be a part of his life, but you were nervous about how he would react to having someone new around.

“Momma,” you heard your son saying, instantly snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked at him, at his round cheeks and perfect little curly hair, and you couldn’t help but smile wildly. “There’s someone at the door.”

His words were still a bit slurred, but that, along with the way his little hand raised to point at the door, made your heart feel warmer and your body relax. It was okay. Everything was okay.

With a deep breath, you opened the door finally and were immediately surprised by your girlfriend’s beauty - although it wasn’t exactly news for you anymore. Elizabeth was looking down at her shoes, probably getting a bit tired of waiting, but she looked up as soon as she heard the door and your eyes met almost like two pieces of a magnet. Her bright gorgeous green eyes never failed to make butterflies in your stomach, but it was her smile that took your breath away for a moment. Elizabeth always had a smile to bless you with.

“Hey,” she greeted you almost shyly.

“Hi,” you said, already reaching out as if you were going to pull her in for a kiss, however that’s when you remembered you still had the dishrag in your hands and you ended up blushing.

Elizabeth chuckled happily and leaned in to peck your lips the same way she did the other times she walked you to your door after a date. When she pulled away, she lifted her arm and you took notice of the thing she was carrying with her and that you hadn’t seen before since you were so busy staring at her eyes and lips. She was holding a small bouquet, very colorful and elegant, and it instantly brought a blush to your face.

“I, uh, I was taking care of my garden today and I picked this for you,” Elizabeth explained and the stutter in her words made you realize she was probably even more nervous than you were.

“Thank you, love,” you replied, picking the bouquet from her, and then reaching out to take her hand and gently pull her inside. “Are you nervous?”

“A little bit,” she admitted with a weird chuckle while she ran her sweaty palms down her jeans. You loved it when she dressed like that, just some jeans and a t-shirt, because it made her look so comfortable around you. “But I’m also excited. Can’t wait to meet the man that has my girl’s heart,” Elizabeth joked.

You laughed, closed the front door, and turned around to the living room. “Baby, can you come here for a second?” You called your son, who didn’t seem to be paying attention to what was going on around him. He looked up though and got up quickly when he noticed there was someone in his house that he didn’t know. He ran to hide behind your legs, hitting you with his little truck on the way, but you only smiled and placed a hand on top of his head. “He’s shy, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Elizabeth assured you before she lowered herself to be at his eye level. “Hey, buddy. I’m Lizzie.”

She waved at him, offering the kid a big smile as well, and your son’s eyes raised to meet yours in confusion. You told him one of your friends would be around for dinner - since he was so young, you wanted to slowly tell him who Elizabeth was to you exactly - but you weren’t surprised he was suddenly too timid to interact with your girlfriend. He was just a kid and not used to meeting new people. Elizabeth, thankfully, seemed to understand that because she didn’t insist, nor did she try to reach out to him, but instead she pulled something from her pocket and showed him.

“Your mom told me you like cars, so I brought you this,” she said while turning around the memory game inside the box filled with Cars’ illustrations.

Your son’s eyes widened and he let go of your leg to reach out for it, but he still looked up at you to make sure it was okay. With a smile, you nodded and it didn’t take him long to grab the game with his hands. You were ready to ask him to thank her for the gift, but your son beat you to it, once again surprising you with how sweet your boy turned out to be.

“Thank you, Lizzie.”

“You’re welcome, buddy.” She smiled at him once again. “If your mom allows us, we can play it after dinner.”

“Only for a while,” you replied since you knew your son would ask you about it. “Then you need to go to bed, mister.”

“Okay, momma.” He didn’t complain and, after another second looking at his new game, he rushed away to go back to his toys in the living room.

Once he was gone, Elizabeth rose to her feet again and you quickly pulled her in to kiss her cheek. “Are you trying to buy my son’s affection?” You joked.

Her cheeks were pink when you took a step back. “Can you blame me? I wanted to have a good start.”

You chuckled and shook your head, but you weren’t surprised by that. That was just who she was, and it was innocent enough. “Well, thank you. For my flowers too. I love them.”

“I’m glad.”

“Come with me,” you asked, already turning to the kitchen. “I will put these on a vase and check out our dinner.”

All while at dinner time, your son kept the conversation going with his rambling, asking one question after another, barely giving you any time to think about a reply before he was already talking again. You saw that it amused Elizabeth, but she also made an effort to explain to your son how trains worked to give you a break. It was good to have someone else there, although you knew it was Elizabeth who made it so amazing by just being herself.

He was also relaxed enough around Elizabeth that, midway through his rambling, he pointed at her and said: “I saw you on television!” before he kept talking about his little cars. Elizabeth and you exchanged a look and then had to try hard not to laugh at his words, but you only shook your head at your boy’s antics. Once you were all done eating, you cleaned enough room on the table for Elizabeth to spread the cards of the game she brought so she could play with your son while you watched with your heart getting bigger and bigger inside your chest by the second.

That’s what you always hoped for. Someone who could love you and your son. You hadn’t told Elizabeth that you loved her yet, but you already knew it was the case. You couldn’t be sure how she felt, but she had a way to make you feel loved with her actions and other little things that have you hooked since day one.

And there, sitting by her side while she laughed with your son, you realized you made the right decision with her. She was a keeper.

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you #celebrity x reader #marvel #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #fanfic #creative writing #my writing #drabble #fluff

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answer2jeff · 6 months

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Life Imitates Art —Carmen Berzatto.

PART 1/2.

warnings: fluff. painter!reader x roommate!carmen. unestablished relationships. clunky overly detailed writing. carmy being concerned. angsty. mutual pinning. (reader is lowkey mentally unstable like Carmen. i can't write 100% healthy relationships i'm sorry!!!)

a/n: sorry i disappeared and didn't write for weeks and decided to randomly drop this!

You needed inspiration.

With your last three pieces bought out from the French art gallery, L'art de L'amour, you hadn't touched your easel in days. Your brushes had gone dry, the paint clumping and staining every bristle. The lack of desire to make art felt like you hadn't seen the sun in 10 years.

You'd been ignoring this dreadful feeling with sleep.

Long day at the studio, the space filled with no one but younger, starving artists who wanted to admire your work for creative flow—but never wanting to know the real meaning behind every brush stroke, or why you used oil paints for specific pieces? Sleep.

The days fell shorter, the nights falling longer.

Even your roommate, a micromanager of his career, noticed.

It surprised you, possibly more than it should've. When you first moved into this apartment, you had every doubt in the world sharing a space would be enjoyable. For a while, you weren't sure if you could call yourselves "friends." Then again, living with a complete stranger—a man, no less, seemed impractical. But after a month or two, it was refreshing in a way. Carmen always cleaned up after himself, and was never opposed to splitting chores. There was no need to set specific boundaries. You felt respected, cared for. Every minute not overpowered by either of your desires to create were mostly spent with each other. It kept you sane.

You woke up to the sound of Carmen walking into the kitchen, cursing under his breath when he struggled to shut the door of your apartment behind him. Reluctantly, you dragged yourself out of bed, only to find that your bedroom door was wide open. You must've gone straight to bed after spending the entire evening trying and expectedly failing at "cleaning" up the apartment so Carmen wouldn't come home to a mess.

Bare feet pattered against the floorboards, the palm of your hand pressing into your tired eyes. You stretched your arms out, your t-shirt, who you weren't sure if it was yours or Carmen's, lifting up and showing just a sliver of your stomach over your grey sweatpants. The sunlight leaking through the windows blinded you.

"Oh, hey. You're up." A warm, welcoming voice greeted you, followed by the fridge being closed shut after restocking it with the necessities he picked up from Whole Foods.

You blinked to see Carmen hovered over the kitchen counter, clad in a navy-blue crewneck and gold chain dangling from his pale neck. His hands pried at a familiar brown wrapper. Blueberry muffins.

"Hey, yourself," you slurred, barely able to keep your eyes open as you hoisted yourself up onto the marble surface. You gazed down at him, grinning at his messy blonde curls.

Carmen smiled back, blue eyes admiring the sight of you: half asleep, your voice raspy while still having that airy cadence, your hair messier than it was the last time he willingly saw you—which he couldn't totally remember. He came home to the sight of your bedroom dimly lit by your bedside lamp.

"It's noon," he muttered, glancing from his phone on the counter, and back to you.

"Shit. Really?"

"Yeah. You've been sleeping a lot lately," he kept his stare on you as he opened the cabinet beside you, reminding you to 'watch your head' as he grabbed a ceramic plate.

"Isn't that a good thing?"

Your mind wandered to your exhibit. The thought of never having the ability to create such extraordinary work terrified you. So much that you hadn't even tried. It was almost embarrassing: Carmen seeing you like this. Rid of the one thing you convinced yourself you knew how to do.

"Not really."

You wanted to laugh. Maybe he just didn't get it.

If you could make even the painfully mundane into something more, than maybe you were more than just existing. Carmen was actually astounded by you and your work, even with the lack of knowledge in other art forms. Culinary was his calling, but for you? Oh, how he tried to grasp every concept you conveyed in your creative works. All in attempt to comprehend every thought in that pretty little head of yours.

Maybe he didn't understand as much as he wished, but maybe he didn't have to totally 'get it' to get you. Carmen found it hard to read people, their feelings, their true intentions, his whole life. But for once, he had confidence in his intoxicating marvel for everything you did. Even the way you covered your mouth when you laughed around everyone except him, or the way you styled your hair

"Well, it was for the sake of art," you smiled, extending your hand out to accept the plate that held the beautifully baked blueberry muffin. "Thanks for these, by the way."

"Pleasure. And I was actually gonna ask you about that. The—the art. Your art." Carmen joined you on the counter, his feet dangling beside yours. Your shoulders bumped past each other, a laugh coming from the both of you.

"Yeah? What about it?" You bit into your muffin, your gaze never leaving his.

"Well, I uh—I kinda wanted to visit your exhibit, y'know? Get to see it in its full form. I would've asked sooner but—"

"Yeah, yeah, it's okay. I know. Um—that'd be great. That's really nice of you, Carm."

A part of you wondered why he wanted to see it. But it wasn't all too surprising. Carmen took every chance he got to see your studio—even taking the initiative to drive you home from it on late nights, where you'd be endlessly analyzing your works even hours after Carmen would leave what was now, The Bear.

"Nah, I mean, I've just seen all that y'do and it's—" Carmen shrugged, struggling to find the right words to express his admiration without changing the atmosphere, "really cool. It's you, y'know?" His bottom lip was barred by his teeth and he looked into you for an answer.

You wished you could understand how the complexities of a kitchen; how it could clutch Carmen's attention to the point of no return, but you were happy for him. He was making something more of "mom and dads piece of shit," as he called it.

You never thought it was anything short of fucking awesome. He had all of this experience, drive, passion. Carmen felt more real, more rawly human to you than anything. Or anyone you'd met before.

He changed you. You were softer, calmer.

And still, you worried for him, dragging him out of the ever all consuming anxiety. Sometimes this was through watching X-file reruns on the couch. And every night, you'd move a little closer. By now, he'd keep an arm around you as your eyes became heavy and the room stirred with darkness and comfortable silence. He prayed to whatever ruled above him that you wouldn't notice, simultaneously wishing you'd want him to hold you gently like this. Even grocery store trips, something so simple, felt this way—which you missed out on this morning. You'd stand on the edge of the cart, your hands supporting your weight as Carmen pushed the handle with both hands, eyes scanning the isle for whatever obscure ingredient he needed for the dinner he planned on making you that night.

Every time he looked away, you stared. His beautifully carved nose, the way he bit the inside of his cheek and furrowed his blonde eyebrows when he tried to focus on making a decision. You were afraid, in a weird, animalistic way. You hadn't stopped yourself from relying on him. What if loving him this way made him pull away–or worse, you? You had to admit, having something this painfully simple in your life that made up for the chaos, was a little hard to accept.

It took everything in you to pretend you didn't notice him cleaning up the bathroom you shared whenever either of you left your belongings lying around. You wanted to convince yourself it was because he didn't want to come off as a slob, or influence you to be one yourself. But it always felt more like he was looking after you. Nothing that belonged to you would ever be misplaced again. Not with Carmen around.

You took pride in the little things. Your shoes placed next to each other near the front door, your toothbrushes leaning against each other with corresponding colored clips to cover their bristles. This was good. Change was good.

#carmen berzatto #the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #painter!reader x carmen #ugh i love this #angsty fluff #carmy is so cute i need him #sorry i haven't posted #depression is a bitch #uni is kicking my ass #like seriously #anyways yeah #enjoy this #love you guys mwah

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lixxen · 2 months

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Ngl I'm thinking about the fact that Mac was actually interested in Carmen, even after he found out she was trans.

Mac literally did research into bottom surgery and how it works. He put time and effort into learning about anatomy and probably even more into hormone treatment! Mac is also notably religious! During the time she's introduced, trans people were treated way worse than they are now. So a religious guy (who is ableit a repressed closeted gay with a splash of internalized homophobia low-key) being into a trans woman while knowing she's trans is such a huge thing

Sunny typical casual slurs and peanut gallery aside, so far where I am in the series (S5E12) they've treated Carmen really well as a character. Like... Genuinely she's one of my favorite representations of trans women in media. She's unapologetically a woman who is proud of being trans, temporarily with a man who is obviously conflicted slightly but still cares somewhat about her (she's with her husband now where I'm at, but you know what I mean). He cares enough to keep her around and learn about her surgeries.

Also? Literally no character calls her by he/him. Literally none. It shocked me that they didn't have Frank he/him her. They make a point to be like "no. She's just a woman who temporarily had a dick" it feels like. Her huge dick is the only thing they genuinely poke at towards her being trans. And Mac not wanting to be open about being with her seems to stem from how his friends will react and probably internalized homophobia since we know he ends up coming out as gay

Idk guys. I think about Mac and Carmen a lot. I know she's one of the ones who come out fine in the end. And I just... I love that. RCG really popped off with her character

#iasip #iasip carmen #carmen iasip #its always sunny in philadelphia #its always sunny #its always sunny in philly #mac #mac mcdonald #mac iasip #iasip mac

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shiyorin · 4 months

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#Primarchs x reader but it is modern au

#Well, actually here are some drabbles I wrote for challenge modern au with my friends. I almost forgot I wrote it

#Romcom but actually one is a rom and one is a com.

#Menu: Sanguinius and Roboute Guilliman

Sanguinius

You sighed, gazing idly at the latest abstract sculptures on display. How you had been convinced to come to this event, you did not know. Curiosity, perhaps. Or a desire for something different, however fleeting.

You wandered from piece to piece, managing polite smiles and vague comments when addressed. The other patrons were a study in extravagance, jewel-toned gowns, colognes that announced wealth and status with every spray. You felt woefully out of place in your modest attire, there to observe from the sidelines.

Making to leave, you turned, and found yourself face to face with Sanguinius himself.

He smiled gently, warmly, in a manner that made your ensuing frown seem all the harsher. "I thought that might be you," he said. "I'm glad you decided to come."

What could you say? That you had no interest in his efforts, his wealth, his world of aesthetics and social climbing? Somehow you doubted even your harshest words could dampen that gentle smile.

Instead, you said. "The artwork is…interesting."

Sanguinius chuckled. "You despise it."

You clenched your jaw. Were you that transparent? But before you could retort, Sanguinius continued.

"That's alright. Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder, as they say." He held your gaze steadily, openly. "If you'll allow me, I think I see a kind of beauty in you that transcends all this."

You blinked, taken aback. This was not the response you had anticipated. Before you could gather your thoughts, Sanguinius bowed his head. "Forgive me. I overstep." And with that, he was gone, lost amidst the crowd.

You stood still for a long moment, pondering this strange encounter. A part of your wished to dismiss it, leave this foreign world behind once more. And yet, something intrigued you about him.

With a sigh, you left the gallery. But your thoughts lingered still on Sanguinius.

*****

Sanguinius sighed, staring out the window of his studio with unseeing eyes. His mind replayed the brief encounter with you at the gallery over and over, cataloging every awkward beat and missed opportunity.

"You despise it." He had said, and he had chuckled, played it cool. As if his heart wasn't pounding at finally being face to face with this enigmatic who held his thoughts captive.

He should have said something clever, charming. Asked your favorite flowers, favorite wine. Instead he offered vague platitudes and retreated like a coward, leaving you in there.

Sanguinius cringed. Had all those years playing the beloved artist prince addled his silver tongue beyond repair?

Pushing away from the window, he began to pace. He could have told you about the time he sprained his wrist painting your likeness from memory. Or how every sculpture he crafted seemed an effort to capture some fleeting trace of your grace. Or how -

"Ridiculous," he muttered to the empty room. You clearly wanted nothing to do with his affections. And well you should! What had he to offer beyond annoy you?

Still, the memory of your averted gaze and tightly crossed arms stung him.

"Next time," he vowed to the mirror, "Next time, I just need one more."

With a sigh, Sanguinius turned back to his workbench, and began to sketch. Ideas for new pieces taking shape, works that might one day, somehow, win the regard of your heart.

Roboute Guilliman

Guilliman jogged up the stairs to your loft, dread pooling in his gut. The half-coherent slurring over the phone signaled trouble, as usual.

Upon entering, he sighed at the all-too-familiar sight awaiting - you sprawled gracelessly across the couch, bottle of vodka dangling precariously from limp fingers as you brow furrowed intensely at your laptop on the floor.

"What did we talk about this?" Guilliman sighed, bending to retrieve the laptop. He knew before even booting it up what he'd find.

"I'm verrrrry fine and for sure not drunk!" You protested, flailing an arm wildly. "Why would I need to be drunk, nothing was wrrrong at all. The vodkaaaaa? Naw, that's just...that's just morrrrrral suppppppppport!"

Guilliman pinched the bridge of his nose, opening the laptop. Yep, there was your popular anonymous venting forum, your anonymous profile clearly hammered as usual.

"You need to stop getting on the internet when you're drunk, or stop getting drunk when you're on the internet," he lectured wearily. "Jeez, this is...ugh."

You barked a harsh laugh. "You're one to taaaaaaaalk! At leassssst I don't write angry tweets to Landlord Association Presidents about proper...proper ventilation codes when I'm trasheeeeeeed!"

Guilliman flushed, fishing out his phone. Sure enough, several draft angry tweets awaited deletion in the morning. He coughed. "Regardless, you're dealing with the consequences of your actions this time."

You groaned as he scrolled. "I say one little thing about Angron's anger issues suddenly meaning he can't handle a puppy and everyone loses their minds!"

Guilliman read the fiery thread questioning Angron's prospective puppy adoption. Yikes. At least you hadn't doxxed anyone in your drunken ranting this time. Small miracles.

"Lucky for you, I cleaned it up," he reassured, sparing your the drama. "Now, let's get you hydrated before round two of the vomiting begins."

You scowled but obediently sipped the electrolyte drink he handed your. "You're no fun, Roboute. How am I supposed to vent my frustrations creatively without liquid inspiration?"

"You could try a journal, or healthy coping skills." he suggested blandly, though they both knew that was pointless. This was who you was - passionate, impulsive, and mysteriously charming even wasted.

"Ugh, soooo boring. Maybe I'll just start an anonymous YouTube venting channel. What could go wrong?" You mused, raking a hand through tangled hair.

Guilliman groaned. "Please don't give the internet any more of your drunken thoughts. For now, focus on keeping what's left of your dinner down and get some rest. I'll be here making sure you don't do anything too regrettable offline too."

You flipped him a rude gesture but burrowed underneath the blankets obediently. He chuckled, settling in for the long night watch as usual. Another crisis averted, for now at least. You sniffled miserably from beneath the blanket mound as Guilliman scrolled through the aftermath of your drunken posting.

"Oh god, you thought about it, didn't you?" he sighed knowingly. Last year's intoxicated vent had sparked such a vicious flame war that his still shuddered at the memory.

That seemed to be the tipping point as you burst into tears. "I'm trying to change, this shit, people from the outside don't get how much bullshit we gotta put up with, and if lucky hate it, and, and-"

"Okay, alright, you need to sleep this off," Guilliman soothed, setting the laptop aside. "Come on, up you get."

But you only cried louder, curling in on yourself tighter. Guilliman sighed, recognizing the onset of a full-blown anxiety attack.

"Look, you know why you're not supposed to use Twitter, yeah?" He asked gently. You nodded miserably into the couch.

"Because I get like this."

Resigned to damage control, Guilliman retrieved the laptop once more. Glancing at your drunken thread, he frowned. "Ugh..."

You peeked out with red-rimmed eyes. "Is it that bad?"

Guilliman hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. The thread had devolved into the usual vitriol and trash talk, with more than a few personal insults directed at you yourself sprinkled in.

"Well...maybe we should ask Alpharius and Omegon to solve it." he suggested, only half joking. The twin did have an uncanny knack for scrubbing digital messes unseen.

You hiccuped a watery giggle at the idea of unleashing the secret agents on your trolls. Your panic seemed to ease slightly.

Guilliman couldn't help a small smile in return before launching into maximum distraction mode. "Alright, you've had your fun crying for tonight. Now it's time to plot our revenge against the haters!"

You sniffled but nodded, anticipation gleaming through your swollen eyes. "What did you have in mind...?"

"Well first, we gather blackmail on the worst offenders..." Guilliman began deviously, launching into an absurdly convoluted revenge scheme.

#shiyorin's writer #wh40crack #warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #reader insert #modern au #Does anyone want to send a request for modern au?#lol

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aquagirl1978 · 8 months

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Light - Licht Klein x Reader

A/N: Happy Birthday, Licht!

Pairing: Licht Klein x Reader (Licht POV)

Prompt: 4th Birthday Card

Word Count: 418

Tags: pure, sweet fluff

Light poured in through the windows, bright rays of sunshine that warmed my face, gently inviting me to wake up. I wasn’t the only one woken by the sun; when my eyelids fluttered open and I turned over on my side, I found you already awake, gazing lovingly at me.

“Good morning, Licht.” Your soft voice slurred with sleep as you spoke, your hand reaching out to find mine. Clasping our hands together, you squeezed my hand gently, a sweet reminder that you were here. That you were real.

That this was real.

We smiled at one another; yours was soft and sweet, mine wistful. For I had to get ready for training my troops early that morning.

“I have to be at training soon, but I should be done early in the afternoon. Meet up for lunch?”

Wriggling, you pushed your body up close against mine, your face tilting up towards mine, just waiting to be kissed. Cupping your cheeks in the palms of my hands,

I let out a sad sigh as I threw the covers off my body; better to just get up and start the day and get it over with so I can come back and spend the rest of my day with you. Rolling out of bed, I began to get dressed and put on my pants.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I threw on my dress shirt and was about to start buttoning it.

“Let me help you.” Your voice called out to me, sweet like a bird’s song on an early morning. Your smile bright, you sat up in the bed and crawled over to me.

“Hey!” You threw your arms around my neck, catching me off guard. I found myself laughing, enjoying your boundless energy, your body warm against my back as you placed a kiss on top of my head. Lifting my hand, my fingers curled around the curve of your elbow.

I found myself not wanting to leave the comforts of your embrace. There once was a time not all too long ago, where I threw myself into my training; I would go early and leave late, often not wanting to leave at all. Training served as a distraction from the noise of my thoughts.

But the longer I spend time with you, the more you are replacing those old thoughts with new thoughts. Good thoughts. Happy thoughts. And I found myself, for the first time in forever, not wanting to go to training today.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @ikehoe @ikemen-writer @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @umi-adxhira @yarnnerdally @crypticbibliophile @scorchieart @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @melodiousramblings @wendolrea @aceuuuu @randonauticrap @aria-chikage @nightghoul381 @itsjudesfault @maries-gallery @xbalayage @xenokiryu

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #licht klein #ikepri licht #ikemen licht #ikepri fanfic #ikemen fanfic #otome #otome games #otome fanfic

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