h
Kiana Khansmith
Sade Olutola
Acquired Stardust
PR's Tumblrdome
Sweet Seals For You, Always
trying on a metaphor
Love Begins
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
i don't do bad sauce passes
No title available
DEAR READER
Keni
Three Goblin Art
hello vonnie
Stranger Things
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
occasionally subtle
Misplaced Lens Cap
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from T1
seen from Türkiye
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Philippines
seen from Maldives
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from Australia
@mirarobin
#collage_archive
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Character/Pairing: Soldier Boy × fem!Reader
Fandom: The Boys
Date: May 2026
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Btw, I'm having a birthday today. Decided to post smth with Soldier Boy as a goodnight 😅
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#collage_archive
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Character/Pairing: Hermione Granger × Draco Malfoy
Fandom: Harry Potter
Date: January 2026
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One of the best things about being a writer is thinking of something small you can add to your work that’s just. Devastating. Like you’re sitting there going. Oh. That would be diabolical. People would get really riled up about that. Exquisite. Let’s do it.
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Soldier Boy x feminist!Reader hc
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a/n: I’m thirsty for this man and I need a good enemies-to-lovers storyline for after the finale, so here are some ideas because why not. Reader is a feminist and a leftist and basically all that Ben probably hates.
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Ben clocks you as a problem the second he hears your name. Not because you are loud, although you are, and not because you are popular, although that pisses him off too, but because you are the kind of woman who says exactly what she thinks on camera and somehow makes it sound like a threat to the system itself. You are not just anti-Vought; you are anti-everything Ben was trained to worship, and the fact that you can say all of it with perfect confidence makes him hate you on sight. Which, unfortunately for his blood pressure, turns into fascination almost immediately.
You do not flirt with him like a normal person. You humiliate him. Publicly. Repeatedly. You call him a relic, a caveman, a nepo baby with a body count, a patriotic factory defect, and you do it with the kind of clean, cutting precision that makes every room go silent for half a second. Ben is used to being feared, desired or at least respected. You offer him none of those things. You treat him like a nobody with unresolved daddy issues and a decorative jawline, and that drives him insane because he can tell, very quickly, that you are not bluffing.
The first real crack in the dynamic happens when Ben realizes you are not intimidated by him at all. Not his history, not the violence, not the myth, not the tereible and dangerous reputation. You look at Soldier Boy and see a badly socialized man with an overfed ego and no clue what to do with a woman who can gut him verbally in thirty seconds flat. That is the exact moment he starts paying attention, because he has never been able to stand a woman who sees through him and keeps talking anyway.
Ben tries to get one over on you with the usual tactics: crude compliments, obscene little comments, sexist one-liners, the whole rotten old Soldier Boy routine. You absolutely destroy him every time. You correct his language. You mock his politics. You call his flirting “male environmental damage.” And somehow the worse you make him look, the more hooked he becomes, because no woman has ever made him work this hard just to get a reaction. You do not reward his ego. You wound it, and he starts wanting you like a man who has mistaken being humiliated for being chosen.
You know exactly what you’re doing. That is the important part. You are not softening toward him because he is attractive or because he has the face of a fucking greek god. You are furious that you want him at all, because he is everything you hate in men: misogynistic, reactionary, arrogant, emotionally illiterate, violently overconfident. You always wanted a softboy with empathy and functioning morals, and instead you got Soldier Boy. So you make it everyone’s problem, especially his, because if you cannot stop yourself from wanting him, the least you can do is make him suffer for it.
Ben, for his part, does not understand at first that your contempt is foreplay with teeth. He thinks you genuinely despise him, and that makes him double down on the teasing, the posturing, the stupidly filthy remarks. Then he realizes that every time you snap back at him, your eyes linger a little too long, your breathing changes a little too fast, and your mouth keeps doing that tiny thing it does when you are trying not to smile. That is when he starts losing his mind, because he finally understands that you hate him almost as much as you want him, and that combination is apparently his personal version of heroin.
Your political arguments become a form of flirting that neither of you will name. You call out Vought, the patriarchy, the nonsense of heroic bullsjit and Ben calls you a commie, a bitch, a menace, a pain in the ass. The room always looks slightly embarrassed on your behalf because you have made his masculinity look flimsy in real time, but the thing nobody understands is that Ben deep down likes it it. He says he hates it. He says you are impossible. But he is absolutely addicted to the way you refuse to let him dominate the conversation. Every time you make him look stupid in front of other people, he wants you more. He wants to defeat you. To tame you. To make you surrender and scream his name at night.
The jealousy is immediate and violent on both sides, which is why neither of you wants to admit it. You pretend you do not care when Ben shows up with women. He pretends he does not care when you talk to men. But both of you notice every shift in the room. The second another man laughs too long at your jokes, Ben turns into a nuclear-grade asshole. The second another woman touches his arm, you get so irritated you could spit nails. Neither of you is mature enough to call it attraction, and neither of you is honest enough to call it lust, so it becomes an endless cycle of provocation, denial, and increasingly personal insults.
The first time one of you almost admits it, it is because the other one has gone too far. Ben says something filthy and territorial, you call him a misogynistic piece of shit with the emotional range of a wet cigarette, and then there is that moment where neither of you can keep pretending this is just banter. You both know what the tension is now. It is not just attraction. It is not just mutual hatred. It is the awful, humiliating realization that the person you most enjoy arguing with is also the person you most want to have under you, over you, against a wall, and preferably saying your name like they mean it.
Once the sexual tension finally tips over into actual contact, the whole dynamic gets worse before it gets better. Ben becomes even more possessive because he has finally gotten a taste of what you are like when you stop fighting him for one second, and you become even more insufferable because now you know exactly how badly he wants you. Neither of you suddenly becomes sweet. You are still a menace with a mouth like a razor, and Ben is still a toxic bastard with all the emotional subtlety of a hand grenade. But now every fight carries the threat of a kiss, every insult sounds a little too intimate, and every time he looks at you like he wants to ruin you, you look back like you already have.
we need to bring back old school tumblr communication and im so serious. sending an ask to a mutual just to say hello. seeing three different asks in your inbox all asking how your dentist appointment went. seeing a post you think one of your mutuals would enjoy and tagging them/sending it to them in the dms. nowadays its just silently liking a post or (if youre feeling extreme) replying under posts. WHAT HAPPENED TO US!! we used to be a proper community!!!! #LetsBringWhimsyBack
reblog if you want ppl to send you random lil' asks
‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹. soldier boy edit that i made today! ⋆˙⟡
☆ no stealing please! thank you. .ᐟ
Getting your heart broken when you're a writer is genuinely the worst best thing that can happen to you. at the time you are on the floor. you are not okay. nothing is okay. and then six months later you are writing a scene and your hands just know exactly what it feels like when someone leaves a room and takes the air with them. you didn't have to imagine it. you just had to survive it first.
Fun fact: the last time I was heartbroken I wrote a lot of one-shots in my native language, crying in the middle of many nights, or after some songs, or after I saw through different people what that person was saying about me. Pathetic mess.
But, hey, we are authors, we sometimes 'bleed' on the paper, yeah?
And, yeah, that expirience of everything we are going or were going through are good in some sense. We can remember how is it and write it down excellent. The same thing sometimes applies to acting too.
We, humans, are so.... wow
Reader: *Looks at Ben* Uh Reader: *Looks at Homelander* Aren't you interested in having a little sibling? Homelander: Wait what-
Bahahaha, yep. He is horrible as a person, but damn... 🫦
#collage_archive
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Character/Pairing: Soldier Boy × female!Reader (Butcher's daughter) (fic with them)
Fandom: The Boys
Date: 15.05.2026
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Ben: You said I'm the love of your life
About a million times
You: But I felt a hole like this
Never before, and ever since
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I can't stop thinking about things I want to write with these two. In my head it has a good potential. Thanks to miss Swift for making me do that collage, listening to "loml" on the loop and now thinking about them... That's them basically at the end of the third season. Her in s4. Them at the beginning of s5...
Ugh, I wasn't there for three days. At all. Got some notifications, but didn't check. Did that now. Oh, I'm so happy. There were two new chapters of the fic with SB, thanks to @notmeolive , new reader, some likes and reblogs and nice pictures on my dash.
Last days in reality were draining af. Hope this weekend I'll get tike to work on my plans for fics. Hope you all doing well 🤍
Character/Pairing: Soldier Boy × female!reader
Fandom: The Boys
Word count: 1068 words
TW: age gap, NSFW content (only 18+), mentions of p in v, mentions of nudity
Summary: reader is in the living place of her cousin Firecracker, as a guest, attempts to record a TikTok to Sabrina Carpenter's song. Soldier Boy watched and decided to step in to help
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My house is on Pretty Girl Avenue
My house was especially built for you
Some say it's a place where your dreams come true
My house could be your house too
Oh
So... um... are you coming in or what?
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These hips...
These thighs...
It's impossible to look away. For Soldier Boy it's impossible. His jaw clenches. He watches how some girl he saw only a couple of times now dances in front of her phone. She is so cheeky. So flirty. He likes that side of her. And that black with purple fabric on her...
With a sigh, the girl deletes the video. The timer starts ticking again. She’s already memorized the song, but this dance...
You wink at the camera, and it’s over. You pick up your phone. Watch the video. The ending is perfect. Just the right amount of flirting. But the dance leading up to it is still kind of...
One more time.
3, 2, 1...
“Some say it’s a place where your dreams come true.” You sway your hips.
“My house could be your house too.” you beckon with your finger, run tongue over...
“Holy shit!” you jump back from the phone, noticing someone in the background you hadn’t expected at all. “What the hell are you doing here?” your eyes widened slightly.
“Have you seen Firecracker? I have an interview with her scheduled for tomorrow.” he replied gruffly.
“And?” you lift an eyebrow.
“I have questions” he scoffed back
You stepped back toward the phone. Of course he was looking for your cousin. You picked up your smartphone from the stand when you felt a man’s hand touch your thighs.
“Has it been a while since you were on top, doll?”
The air got stuck in your throat, somewhere in the middle of the windpipe.
“Excuse me?” you exhaled.
“When was the last time you were on someone’s cock, bouncing up and down like a fucking cowgirl?”
You feel the heat radiating from him. His whisper tickles the skin of your neck.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Soldier Boy continues. “Your ass doesn’t even remember how to move in a way that drives anyone wild.”
That hits a nerve. Your cheeks flushed. Fingers clenched around the phone. This old man is insufferable. His audacity to speak so filthy to anyone amuses you and thrills sometimes.
“Your home is a place where dreams come true...” His lips touched your ear. Soldier Boy watched you enough to memorise a couple of words “...Your home could become my home... I'm ready to...come in...” and his teeth closed on your earlobe lightly
“Stop it,” you breathe out, flustered. “It’s just a song… not an invitation.”
“Are you sure?” His fingers grabbed the zipper on your suit. It slowly slides down. The black and purple fabric began to part at your chest, exposing your soft breasts.
“Mmm…”
Your breath hitches, when these big hands slide under the fabric and squeeze soft flesh. It feels so good. Eyes dart to the phone in your palm. You press the button to lock the screen. It turns black as Soldier Boy's lips drag up your neck again.
“And you don’t want to perfect your little dance?” he growls, his palm squeezing one of your breasts, making you bite lower lip. “You’ll practice how to move your hips right… And people will start noticing our Nyx more.”
Your head tilted to the side. Practice is good. Being on top with Soldier Boy's cock in you is also an interesting proposition. But do you really need it? The guy’s old as hell, even if he’s kept himself in pretty good shape. Has awful personality. Still, his hands and voice are so arousing.
Fuck it.
The phone falls to the floor, landing on the soft carpet. From the sudden shift in emotions, your eyes darkened; your pupils and irises merged into a single color, thanks to your power.
“There she is…” Soldier Boy smiles, noticing the change. “All I’ve heard about is Nyx, girl manipulating people through their fears, but so far I’ve only seen Y/N, Firecracker’s little cousin,” he continues, tracing a trail of kisses down to your collarbones.
You didn’t even notice how quickly outfit ends up on the floor along with his. Your body writhed, enjoying the thrusts from below. That small grinds that press his arousal to your soft curves.
Drunk on kisses, touches and roughness of his, you two find the bed. Sorry, cousin, we will wreck it a little, you thought to yourself, falling on Soldier Boy, already sprawled on thhe mattress.
“Now you do it.” He smirks. “Work those hips, Nyx.”
Your hands, still covered in black gloves, landed on his chest. You didn't take them off, reducing the possibility of getting into his head and turn that sex session into session of getting to know what makes him shake in fear. Your butt lifted, allowing his cock to slip out of you almost completely before lowering back down, feeling the pleasant stretch again.
“That’s it…” he exhales, holding you by the buttcheeks.
His palms sometimes squeeze your skin until it turns blue, but you both don’t care. Y/N—or rather, Nyx—is lost in pleasure. Everything happens on its own, so naturally.
“Focus.” His hand slaps her buttcheek “Focus on how your ass moves, baby. You’re a smart girl.”
You frown. Damn it.
“And once you’ve successfully finished your homework, I’ll fuck you again. You won’t have to think next time"
“Okay.” you bite your lip to focus on that, rather than on how good you feel right now.
***
“Now that’s what I’m talking about.” Soldier Boy smirks contentedly.
He got the pleasure to fuck, then watch you dance to that girly track for some TikTak or whatever it is, and now you're coming back to him, smiling at your success of finally getting the right looking video.
Today’s content plan is complete. Your popularity is holding steady; your cousin can be proud of you.
You turn to look at your teacher.
“I have to admit, your tactic worked,” you sigh.
Your gaze lingers on his bare skin below his waist. And just a moment ago, that length had driven her to...
“Just say you want more.” bastard smirks, patting the bed.
“Of course I do,” you snort.
Black supe costume is falling to the floor again in seconds. Even if Firecracker will get back soon, you don't care much. Pleasure matters now more than anything else.
Character/Pairing: Eric × female!Reader
Fandom: Divergent
Word count: 2,1k
TW: mentions of sparrings, coldness in undefined relationship, timeskips, past and present intertwining
Summary: Tris Prior got curious about woman who follows one of the leaders of the faction. Four spills some light on the story of these two.
Author's note: all of the sudden I was reminded of how I loved these books and films years ago. Hope you'll enjoy that text
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As a newcomer to the faction, Tris had to memorize countless details every day. While she trained with the other kids going through the first stage of selection just like her, she felt as if she were learning to live all over again.
Of course, the transition from Abnegation to Dauntless is a massive change. In every way. From clothing style to mindset.
Her muscles ache every day, her knuckles bleed from the hours she spends near the punching bag, her fingers ache from the triggers of guns, her thighs ache from all the running, and her head feels like it’s swelling from the inside because of all the new information.
The food here has a richer flavor. You can look at your own reflection every morning while washing your face. Some newbies quietly cry into their pillows at night, and no one talks about it. The clothes are black and dark gray. Tattoos, piercings, and colorful hair are the normal thing.
You can only see the sun when they go out for a run or shoot on the roof. Most of their training takes place in the main building, but it’s still not sunny in there. The only light comes from the headlamps.
The people here are completely different. The Dauntless, born into the faction, strike her as loud. Those who chose this faction—Transitioners like her—are also unique, but you can still see traces of the other factions in them.
There are three leaders here. Max, with a stern but practically indifferent face. Thorn, whom Tris first met in the simulation room before the Choosing Ceremony. And Eric. Eric, an ice mountain of muscle with a bunch of visible tattoos, facial piercings, and a personal shadow in human form.
Four continued to tell Tris various facts about the faction from time to time, and the girl always wanted to know more. But lately, Eric’s 'shadow' had been the subject of her thoughts more often than not.
When she finally dared to voice the question, Four didn’t refuse to answer it.
"She’s only a year younger than me and Eric." Tris nodded, taking in the first bit of information Four was giving her over the noisy lunch. But still in a whisper. The girl immediately remembered that Four and Eric had been initiates in the same year. Seven years ago. Almost eight. "Back then, he wasn’t… like that yet." the man pursed his lips. "It’s a long story."
───── Six years ago ─────
The thud of fists striking the heavy boxing bag echoed through the empty training hall. You repeated the combination over and over, trying to feel how every muscle in your body was working and where you needed to focus more on power and where to add speed.
If you want to be a part of the Dauntless, you need to try to be better. Much better.
Another exhale, another punch.
"Not bad," comes a voice from the side, one you’d almost forgotten.
You freeze mid-punch. You turns her head, blowing a strand of hair off your forehead.
You remember that face. You remember those cheekbones. Those gray eyes. But not the mountain of muscles and the tattoos on his neck. How many tattoos has he gotten over the past year?
"Get in the ring," the guy says calmly, taking off his jacket and leaving it on one of the benches.
You sighed and obediently walked toward the ring. You don’t know why you listen to him. Maybe because of some stupid memories from your early teens? Who knows. You’d spent a year without seeing his face at home, in the Erudite faction. Why should he matter to you now?
"Show me what you’ve got." A familiar smirk lights up his face. The jerk. That smug turkey.
Both take their starting positions. They circle each other. And in an instant, you attack. A quick punch to the stomach.
Missed.
His fist flies toward you, but you manage to dodge it. They exchange blows, sweeps, gasps, and hisses as they fall to the floor. Exchange them just like facts from books when they were younger and spent half the day in their old faction’s library.
"That’s better." Eric rubs your shoulder as they step out of the ring. "But you still need to work on your core mobility."
"I know." you grumble, rubbing your thigh. "And anyway, I don’t get why you keep doing this." you exhale slowly and stop next to the bench where his outerwear is. "Isn’t that against the rules? You’ve been a member of this faction for ages; I’m still just in the initiation phase."
"It’s our secret," he shrugged vaguely.
You were almost ready to sweep his legs out from under him and pin him to the floor, demanding answers. But that tactic won’t work.
The days passed one after another. They turned into weeks. At least once every four days, Eric dragged you into the ring. Mostly at night. During the day, you two only exchanged glances when you went upstairs with the others or in the common dining hall during meals. You soon noticed him chatting with the faction leader—Max—more and more often. That’s interesting.
You continued to climb the initiates’ ranking chart. Your shooting became more precise, and your understanding of the mechanics grew. You were more confidently able to spot the fighting patterns in the ring among the other guys you fought. You learned to dodge in time and focus your strength on the right points of body before striking.
But when the second stage began, things got more complicated. And the day you found out that Eric had officially taken position of faction leader became the turning point that shaped your future, even though you had no idea of it at the time. You had heard that both he and a guy nicknamed Four had been offered leadership positions last year, after they’d gone through their own initiation. But Four had refused, while Eric had accepted. Now, however, he’d been officially announced. Maybe this past year had been a probationary period or something like that.
However, that question wasn’t your top priority. The focus had moved on to the second stage theme: Fear. Here, they work to eradicate fear from a person in any form. Even the slightest fear is a flaw. For the Dauntless faction, this is very important.
If you fail the test, if you freeze up, if you don’t overcome yourself, if you’re too slow in solving this problem, your rank drops and then you’re kicked out. None of the newbies want that.
Going through the simulations was strange. After the serum is injected, you’re instantly plunged into another world. And your mind presents you with all kinds of fears. The kind you might not even have suspected. Insects. A cliff overlooking the ocean. Nighttime, or the ruins of a city at night. Silence. A long corridor, at the end of which is a person you care about, screaming or moaning. A thunderstorm in a field.
So many different scenarios.
The serum works flawlessly on the brain. Everything feels too real. And everything is tracked through the system. One monitor shows everything clearly, as if the observer is seeing everything through your eyes, while another monitor displays your vital signs.
This stage was more exhausting than physical training. There were no muscles to control here—none you could feel and use to tell where you were slacking off. It was just you, your mind, and its depths.
Somehow, you managed to get through those weeks. A couple of days before the final test, you ran into Eric in the hallway. He looked even more confident, more... important. And cold. But you could tell he was amused when you flinched at the sharp grip on your elbow.
"Scared?" not a single muscle twitched. Not a corner of his lips moved. Only his eyebrows lifted in a hint of mockery.
"No." you shook your head. "What would I be afraid of?"
Eric leaned in sharply toward you. With his free hand, he cupped your’s chin. The eye contact sent shivers down your spine. Your's jaw tightened. Eric tilted his head slightly to the side, studying you.
"Me," he breathed somewhere near your cheek before letting go and continuing down the hallway. "Sweet dreams, DeeDee."
It caused a knot to form somewhere in the pit of your stomach. Not the kind of knot that makes you want to snuggle up to him like a cat. But the kind that makes you feel as if, if he looks at you one more time, you’ll sink into the ground. DeeDee, just like at home.
On the day of the final test, you woke up feeling not the best. Not bad, but not good either. Standing against the wall in the hallway, it was hard just to wait. You could practically feel the nervousness in the air. Everyone was worried about how they would perform in front of the leaders who will watching the simulation.
───── Couple of hours later ─────
"I have a proposal for you."
You looked at him, a look of surprise on your face. He’d barely spoken to you for weeks, but now...
You looked down from the balcony where he’d called you. Down below, the party celebrating the end of the initiation process was in full swing. The Dauntless had accepted the new recruits into their ranks. And you were one of them. You had come in third on the list. A pretty good result.
"So what do you want?" you looked at him again, but now out of the corner of your eye. Without turning your head toward him.
"You." he steps closer. Almost shoulder to shoulder. "As my assistant. I need a helper."
It almost makes you laugh. Is he serious right now?
"And what will I be doing?" you exhale, almost calmly.
The warmth radiating from his body contrasted with his cold gray eyes and indifferent expression. It’s impossible to predict much when it comes to a man like Eric.
"Whatever I say. Anything." you finally straighten up and turn your whole body toward him. "You’ll be my assistant. My right-hand woman," he says vaguely. How Eric hates your ability to dig deep and see right through him. He can’t stand it when people meddle in his plans.
You sighed.
"You don’t need an assistant." you lower lip slipped beneath upper teeth and slipped back out a second later. "If you did, you would have found one the moment you were named leader."
"Maybe I was waiting for the one particular initiate to join the faction." his fingers cupped your chin in a split second.
"Why?" you sighed, clearly surprised.
"I saw potential in you," Eric smirked. "Quick-witted. Stubborn. Growing in strength. You don’t break under the weight of fear. Do you know how many initiates from other factions were on the verge of losing their minds during the second stage?" his face now was very close to yours. And then, his voice rang out right by your ear. "More than you think. And it seemed like you didn’t care going through it"
You did care. But you understood that showing it would cause you to drop in the rankings. That couldn’t be allowed to happen. But you wouldn’t admit it. Certainly not now.
"I see." you gritted your teeth.
This is a great opportunity. To collaborate with the faction leader right after initiation. It’s worth a lot. It would be worth accepting the offer.
"Can I think about it?"
───── Present ─────
"Are we picking the weak ones?" Eric asks Four with a hint of sarcasm, earning a reproachful look from his 'shadow'.
He just shrugs, that devilish smirk still on his face.
You stood beside Eric, barely holding back the urge to roll your eyes. This rivalry between Four and him was just childish nonsense. So many years had passed. Of course, there had been times when you’d argued with him about it, but was it even possible to convince Eric of anything? No. Until he decided that was exactly how it was, no one could prove him wrong.
You shift your gaze to the girl who prompted Eric’s comment. Tris. Formerly Beatrice Prior. An initiate from the Abnegation, just like Four once was. Girl that Eric made a decision to kick out. Just before they got on the train for the game. Over these weeks of training, the girl has gained a little muscle mass, perked up, but is clearly sleeping less.
"And you, of course, are with me," Eric says, bringing you back to reality by nudging your thigh with the end of the barrel.
"No one doubted that," Four sighs, adjusting the mechanism on his rifle.
After dividing the newbies into teams, they began explaining the rules of the game and how the weapons work. It’s not just a paintball gun. It has built-in vials that, upon hitting a target, release a liquid that sends specific signals to the brain, causing the person to react as if they’d been shot for real. Someone actually had to come up with that.
Sighing, following Eric’s order, you went with him and the team to the train door. We’d be getting off soon. And the game would begin. The goal was to capture the enemy’s flag. All around was darkness and abandoned buildings that had once been a residential area near the amusement park.
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Thanks for reading that. Comments will be appreciated
Character/Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson × female!Reader
Fandom: The Originals
Word count: 433 words
Summary: you're busy popping bubbles, he is not very happy about that
Author's note: couldn't stop chewing gum and bursting bubbles for two hours, caught inspiration, hope you'll like it. Didn't edit it very much, so...hope you'll enjoy
☆ ゜・。。・゜゜★・。。・゜゜☆ ゜・。。・゜
"Can you just stop?" rings out from the doorframe as you pop another bubble from gum.
"Stop what?" you turn your head, already blowing new one.
Bubble is a slightly pink colour. And it stretches out... and out... and out...
Pop!
You giggle, looking at his face as your tongue and lips gather pieces together again and slide them back into your mouth.
"That" Klaus grumbles, gesturing to you with his hand. So much expression. Wow. His lip curling faintly before he speaks again, “is exactly what I mean.”
He steps into the room. His hands take off the jacket, throwing it on the back of the empty chair near the window.
Another pop.
His fists clench.
And you continue staring. But now with a wide smile on your face. God, that's delicious.
"I doubt it tastes so pleasant, love" Klaus rolls his eyes, picking up the half empty package of gum from the desk
"I don't care" you shrug your shoulders.
Klaus sighs as his eyes scan the package and contents of it. He sniffs it. Look of mild disgust crosses his face.
"If you insist on indulging yourself in that, you could buy something of better quality" he grumbles, tossing the package back.
You only blink at him with a tilt of your head. Lips already form O shape. And blow the bubble.
Mikaelson comes closer. Eyes glint with disapproval. Dry blood on his neck and cheek now is perfectly visible to you.
"Spit. it. out" he grits out.
Pop!
"Nope"
"Is this your idea of amusement, love?" he frowns. His hands are on the armrest of the chair you're sitting on. "Testing... my patience" his voice drops to so familiar cold tone with teasing edge.
"Not everything is evolving around you, Nik"
"Careful, love" his eyes darken just a little "Or I will have to prove you wrong"
"Niklaus" you hear another familiar voice.
Here he is. Another brother in that messed up family. Elijah. And you're sure that he would judge your choice of gum too. Because, yeah, it was a cheap crap from the nearby store. You had the urge to pop bubbles from gum like you did at fifteen. And you got into it.
Elijah didn't say anything about what he is seeing right now in that room. He just nodded to you, then asked Klaus to have a word outside.
And now it was a quiet peace again, interrupted only by the popping sounds of gum bubbles.
***
From that day on you saw a lot of packages of a nice gum around. In your bag, pockets of some jackets and, just, in different places of his family's house. Even Klaus carried one package. Just in case.
☆ ゜・。。・゜゜★・。。・゜゜☆ ゜・。。・゜
The best friends of the creator are comments, likes and reblogs. Hope you liked that one shot. Let me know 😉 thanks for your support before and now <3
#that crucial moment most narratives would never even let their nice-girl heroines get to #where she is left alone in the world facing a foe that cannot be swayed except by catastrophic action #and look at her face; look at her face looking at him: she is not nearly a nice girl in that face #she is feral and resolved and transcending all the roles that have been given to her in making this choice to desecrate her own flesh #and he; look at his face: he is mesmerized because in how many thousands of years how many times has a human surprised him like this? #challenged him on such a basic level by a willingness to do what nobody else will? #these two fuckers I swear to god #in that moment where their eyes meet and they both *know* what she will do #that is a bond more intimate than any #playing poker with their families at stake they will never not be vicious; but they never thought they’d find an equal to play against #the vampire diaries #tag spiral #otp: be careful what you wish for
#collage_archive
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Character/Pairing: 1820!Elijah Mikaelson/female!reader
Fandom: The Originals
Date: November 2025
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How I felt for a couple of hours in the morning:
Why? Well...
• woke up in a good mood
• tiktok post gained nice numbers
• excited to continue reading the book
• nice weather
• new episode of The Boys today
• I HAVE FIRST FOLLOWER ON THE WATTPAD (i don't know that person, I had only one follower, my friend, now I have two)
• my fic was added to a couple more of tbrs on Wattpad
• my small story with Dean Winchester is constantly seen by people
• feeling capable of get close to the end of the chapter for my fanfic *typing sounds*
How I feel after stumbling across two spoilers of the new episode not being able to watch it until late evening:
*runs in circles*
Watching 2nd season of Originals with my mom. Goodness, I need more of Camille/Elijah friendship with therapy, taking care of each other and doing everything for Hope and her parents. And more time with Camille being near Hope. She would be such a good aunt for the girl as she grows up
😭😭😭
