#-> meant to hit 'save draft'
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
housecow · 1 year ago
Text
WHOOPS i am gonna post that pic probs tomorrow 🫣🫣
54 notes · View notes
fredbread555 · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
it's fall y'all 🍁🍂
an autumn themed recolor set by fredbread555
HAPPY SIMBLREEN!!
details, download, and credits beneath the cut
The set includes:
14 bgc recolors
-Matching pajamas for the whole family!
Long-sleeve cozy pj top for male and female sims aged toddler-elder (11 swatches)
Cozy pj pants the match the tops for male and female sims aged toddler-elder (10 swatches)
A warm onesie for infants and toddlers (8 swatches)
Patterns by Krissy Mast
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
-A cutie pie onesie for infants (9 swatches)
-A cozy nightgown for children mesh required (12 swatches)
-A festive shirt for children (13 swatches)
-A festive shirt for female sims aged teen-elder mesh required (21 swatches) (plus some secret swatches!) (they're secret bc i forgot about them when i was making my swatch doc!) (it's snoopy. they're snoopy swatches)
All are base game compatible!
download (google drive) or patreon
THUMBNAILS
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(onesies don't have seams in the thumbnails but they do in game)
see all swatches here
CREDITS
credit to @serenity-cc and @historicalfictionsims for the t-shirt and nightgown meshes
reshade by @okruee
credit for designs goes to all the artists ! I found the images all on Pinterest so let me know if u want me to take something down or credit you specifically!
Let me know if there's any issues or anything and tag me if u use these!!! I'd love to see y'all's sims being autumnally festive! Love y'all! Happy fall!
@simblreenofficial
21 notes · View notes
saccharine-dean · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
We were young once /
You were my best friend and we had the world to lose /
It's a lonely town and I need you here with me.
Base by mellon_soup on tiktok/pinterest :]
Tumblr media
40 notes · View notes
titanicfreija · 12 days ago
Text
Nosy
"Hey."
"They teach you that comms protocol in Soldier School?"
"I'm not sure what you're talking about. I wanted to talk to you about your Ghost."
"I don't want to talk to anyone about anything."
"But-- just this one thing-- did you think anything was wrong with it? Did you see other Ghosts and think yours was weird?"
"I avoided the other Ghosts. Not as much as Guardians but it's easier anyway. I didn't expect them to think it was weird. It always said it didn't talk much to other Ghosts but then you told me it was lying--"
"I just said it did talk to the others, but I don't think it happened much. It wasn't a lie."
"...Yeah. Anyway, I thought they were all like mine and faking it. I thought mine was bad at faking it."
"Faking.... What? How much people they are?"
"Yep. Thought your little bundle of sparkles was just as much a hollow machine as mine and yours had a better personality module or some shit."
"... What changed your mind?"
"The art."
"What???"
"Art, kid. You need a Self to make art. You gotta have a thing to take in and you gotta have a part to filter it and make the experience yours. Everything is noise but it's not music until it hits someone in the mind that hears it. You have to have a mind that hears music so you can make music."
"I always wondered why you liked Thomas."
"And I still wonder why he likes you."
"You wonder why you like me, too, that's not a surprise. But so.... You thought all of them were machines? Just machines?"
"You are gonna be reeling from this for decades to come, aren't you?"
"I.... Uh. I guess so, shit, I really am just.... Sunny's been a.... A force, all by herself, she's not even a whole person, she's a whole person and a half!"
"She needed that half to handle you."
"It probably helped, yeah."
4 notes · View notes
diredeliverance · 7 months ago
Text
Feel like at a point Gortash feels less like a canon character from a video game and more like a guy I made up in my head (mostly to be mad at). I have simply hung too much characterization on things that are pure headcanon. The guy doesn't even have a canon age and Yet it's hard to describe the degree to which his age, the terror of death, and the craven, futile quest for eternity inform his character. To me. In my mind palace.
2 notes · View notes
coureirsix · 10 months ago
Text
i think everyone needs to take an edible and look through their drafts
3 notes · View notes
helianskies · 1 year ago
Text
ugly maths.
i hate maths, right. i don't usually like numbers, and if i do like numbers it's gotta be an 8 or a 48 and nothing else.
thing is, i've recently caught myself doing maths again. ugly maths. the kind of maths that, really, i've been trying to avoid as much as possible because, well, it's ugly!
you... wanna see?
okay, fine... but don't say i didn't warn you!
Tumblr media
ugly, see? look at all those numbers! not a 48 in sight!
huh? what's that? you don't see what i'm on about? oh... oh! hang on, lemme just—
Tumblr media
better? yes? no? no? okay, what if i—
Tumblr media
mmh, yes. ugly numbers. see it now? can you see why they're ugly?
here, i can make it worse.
Tumblr media
these numbers are ugly. the maths they make me do is ugly.
now i'll level with you: the worst ones by far are the yellow numbers. the maths they make me do it the ugliest.
why ugly?
because it makes me ugly.
those numbers turn me into not only a suddenly number-obsessed fool, but a fool who also cannot understand these numbers and what they mean and why i feel like they reflect on me and my ability.
87, 75.
the thoughts are as follows:
• the orange numbers are big, so why are you being ugly about the yellow ones? you should be happy with what you have. so many nice big numbers! not everyone receives that.
• is it that there are two different audiences for these two different fics? perhaps. they are quite different works, with different appeals, and different themes. maybe you are reading too much into it.
• why are you obsessing over numbers anyway? you don't like maths! you left maths behind when you were 16, put it down!
okay, okay, fine! i'll put the maths down. right here, in fact!:
that 87 was an 83 at the start of the year. the 6161 it is attached to was a 5453.
4, 708.
ugly maths.
the 75 is a nice number. in fact, compared to 87, it is beautiful, radiant, enchanting. at the start of the year, 75 was 48. wow. now that is one sexy number!
27.
mmmm.
6161, 1061.
5100.
87, 75.
12.
mmmm.
you know, my most favourite comment left recently on a fic of mine was 2 characters long: :(
it made me :)
well, actually, it made me >:) because it was left in response, presumably, to one of the key scenes in a new chapter which left the exact impression on someone that i hoped it would.
they must be the only one who reacted like that, though.
1.
have i mentioned that that 87 and 75 include author responses?
i won't try to do more maths, there. it might not end well for me. the maths is making me tired enough as it is, and i have an early start tomorrow.
oh! but, that being said, i have another set of ugly numbers to show you, so keep 87 and 75 in mind.
ready?
838, 245.
(want a hint? the green numbers!)
838, 87. 245, 75.
9.6, 3.3.
ugly maths. it's ugly again, see? i don't like it. i'm seeing numbers within numbers within numbers, and i can't seem to stop!
the numbers make me ask new questions:
• why is it not good enough?
• people seem to engage more with one fic over the other, so shouldn't you prioritise?
• is all this maths this really good for you?
no, it isn't.
i want to avoid ugly maths. ugly maths makes me want to tear my hair out. it makes me want to start from scratch. it makes me want to grab someone and scream. it makes me want to cry and press a button that has tempted me many times before when the numbers become too ugly to bear.
ugly maths turn me into an ugly person.
ugly maths make me obsessive, paranoid, anxious, regretful, vindictive, spiteful, alone.
i hate maths. i hate numbers, just like, it feels, the numbers hate me.
#helia rants#cw vent#i'm okay but i'm not#this has been playing on my mind over the last couple of weeks#it's aimed at the sky rather than anyone here#i know i'm not the best myself as commenting. i justify it to myself by affirming i don't read much. which i don't.#since the start of the year i have tried to comment on everything i have read#bearing in mind i may also dm someone rather than comment because i want to scream and ramble about their fic more personally#that being said. i know i'm not the only one who finds themselves doing ugly maths#and in turn starting to feel uglier too#i don't like looking at the numbers#i was doing well at the start of the year#but as i open my drafts and look to a new chapter and at the notes i wrote#i can't stop myself from opening the fic. from seeing where it's at. from seeing if it's changed. from checking my inbox to see if...#if only...#what it's meant is that i've come to a point where a fic i loved has become exactly that: a fic i loved. past tense#the other fic is still a fic i love. but i know deep down that that is tied to the numbers too#i hate that this is what i've become#because i have tiny fics. fics with 50 hits and maybe 1 comment. and i love them. i still love them#but when it comes to the big ones. the multi-chapters. the hefty fics. after a point all i see are numbers#and those numbers have come to determine both my happiness and fulfilment as a writer#and so i am ugly. i am sad. i am pathetic.#and i don't know how to stop.#helia's stuff#this was meant to save back into my drafts. i was editing tags. tumblr decided it should post. so... so be it.#also this is not an attention thing if anyone dares go 'oh but you're a good writer uwu' i might do something we'll all regret#this is also not a 'ffs comment on my fics will you 😒' hell no#it's just about me. and my issue. and my unhealthy relationship with these fucking numbers.#gotta get this shit out of my head somehow :)
4 notes · View notes
stabbyfoxandrew · 2 years ago
Text
lol if you saw that... you didn't
12 notes · View notes
hamletphase · 2 years ago
Text
silmarillion yuri
3 notes · View notes
ohmytyong · 2 years ago
Text
new blog theme and new jaehyun timestamp just dropped :)
2 notes · View notes
pettyeti · 2 years ago
Text
Etienne and Vrai (aka "Asmodeus")
Tumblr media
Vrai is Eti's voidsent boyfriend. They officially met when Eti explored the Weeping City of Mhac (and cheese), but Vrai had been keeping tabs on Eti since the incident at the Void Ark.
They had a rocky beginning, as Eti held no love for Voidsent and Vrai saw mortals from the Source as mere playthings to watch. Eti's strength and ability to "destroy" Diabolos in Dun Scaith is what compelled Vrai to place his mark on him, granting him a front row seat to Eti's adventures.
Eti was not amused.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Obviously, Vrai didn't care. But he did provide Eti with an ultimatum:
“The Shadow Queen may be dead by your hand, but Diabolos yet lingers in this world. Defeat him once and for all, and perhaps I will free you from my watchful gaze."
This lingering shade would reveal itself within the Diablo Armament several years later.
They gradually get closer over the expansions, and once Endwalker rolls around they're more or less official. It's quite the slow burn.
Even though I meme about them sometimes, they are wholly dedicated to one another. Eti feels like he can be his most authentic self around Vrai, and Vrai sees Eti as his literal Moon and Stars (see Vrai's Lovemail.)
Vrai is a being who insists he is evil beyond the point of redemption. For a long time, soul crushing apathy was his only companion in the eons that followed the Thirteenth's fall into darkness. Eti entering his life helped him regain his lost humanity, bringing out that old sentimentality he once cast aside in favor of cruelty. Even so, Vrai is still very much "not nice." He's just unlikely to kill you or make your life a living hell these days.
5 notes · View notes
catboymettaton · 4 months ago
Note
hey btw ‘venus rising’ on ao3 has one word and its just ‘text’
FUCK it’s not supposed to be posted it’s going up next week thank you for letting me know
1 note · View note
cassandralexxx · 1 year ago
Text
2 years ago today I got my muscle biopsy scar!!
(No actual biopsy tho bc surgeons suck 🥰)
0 notes
luna-azzurra · 2 months ago
Text
10 Writing Things That Have Saved My Creative Soul (and Sanity)
↳ If your character’s arc isn’t making you slightly emotional or existential, it’s probably not finished. If they start and end the story the same person, that’s not a character arc—it’s a flatline. Make them squirm, learn, lose, grow. Bonus points if they make you question your own moral compass in the process.
↳ Worldbuilding is not a license to drown your reader in lore like it’s Game of Thrones on steroids. If you have to write a wiki page to understand your own plot, fine...but that doesn’t mean your reader has to read it. Give us breadcrumbs, not a 12-course feast on page one.
↳ If the theme of your story can’t be summed up in one slightly aggressive sticky note, you’re probably overcomplicating it. (“This book is about choosing yourself even when no one else does”—boom, theme. Now go make your characters suffer for it.)
↳ You will hate your manuscript somewhere between 30k and 50k words. That’s your cue to keep going, not quit. It’s like the literary version of hitting mile 18 in a marathon. Everything hurts, but that means you're doing it right.
↳ That “genius idea” you had at 2 a.m.? Save it. Write it down. But don’t drop everything for it. New ideas are seductive chaos demons. Your current project deserves monogamy… at least until the second draft.
↳ A character’s greatest fear is a shortcut to their heart. Forget favorite color or coffee order...what keeps them up at night? What would destroy them if it came true?
↳ If you don’t know how to end your story, figure out what question it’s been asking the whole time. Once you know the question, the ending becomes the answer. Maybe not a happy answer, but a satisfying one.
↳ No one’s going to write your weird little story the way you will. That’s your superpower. So go ahead and write the morally gray necromancer love triangle in space. Your people are out there. And they’re hungry for it.
↳ You are allowed to be a slow writer. You are allowed to be a fast writer. You are not allowed to be a cruel writer—to yourself. The world will criticize your art for free. Don’t do their job for them inside your own head.
↳ Some stories just aren’t meant to be novels. And that’s okay. Maybe it's a short story. A play. A fever dream disguised as a poem. The shape doesn’t matter. The story does. Let it tell you what it wants to be.
2K notes · View notes
rafesteddy · 6 months ago
Text
𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼
𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬
𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪-𝔽𝕚𝕧𝕖: 𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟’ 𝕃𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕪
𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
warnings: mutual pining, swearing, drinking, rafe and the reader are intoxicated, oral (male + female receiving), bathroom sex, semi-public sex, spanking, unprotected p in v, pullout method, rough oral, dirty talk, praise wet + messy, cum tasting
📖 All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! When you're getting hit on by a loser at your local college bar “boyfriend” Rafe comes in to save the day.
Tumblr media
Reader’s POV:
The crowd's roar is deafening as you sit pressed against the glass of the college hockey area. The game had barely begun, but the energy was already electric—hit after hit, shot after shot. Your friend Lexi shouts and claps, pulling you out of your daze as she bangs her wool mittens against the glass.
Rafe Cameron… Your eyes track him as he streams by confidently, his red and black jersey rippling behind him as he skates, dodging the defenseman on his way to the net.
You smile, biting your lip as you look at the man before you. He sat two rows ahead of you in your accounting class, the two of you exchanging no more than two words all year. Still, there’s just something about him that has your heart racing every time you see him.
“You’re staring,” your friend smiles, looking at you from the corner of her eye. She lifts her draft beer to her lips, grinning against the rim before sipping.
“What?” You giggle as you stuff your hands in your pockets. “Am not.” You lie as the warmth of your little crush creeps up your neck, pooling hot in your cheeks.
“Yes, you are, she teases. “And, honestly, I don’t blame you…”
You roll your eyes away, but you can’t get the smile off your face. Rafe skates by the student section, glancing briefly at the glass as he cleans the snow off his stick. The corners of his lips curl into a smile, making your pulse skip, but you quickly shake it off.
I mean, it was a good shift… He had to be happy about that; you explain it away.
After the game wore on, the players moved faster, hits got harder, and the scoreboard stayed locked at an even 2 to 2. You could feel the determination and intensity radiating off him every time he hit the ice; you couldn’t take your eyes off him—like you would’ve regardless.
With less than a minute of play, Rafe broke away from the traffic with the puck on his stick. The crowd rose to its feet, getting louder and louder the closer he got until he drew his stick back and fired at the net. The sound of the rubber puck clanged off the pipe, and the crowd went wild when the red light flashed. The buzzer drones, its sound quickly swallowed up in the Goal Song.
You jump to your feet, clapping and cheering with the crowd. Rafe skates toward the middle, grinning as his teammates mob him, but once that celebration breaks apart, he turns to the student section, helmet off, hair wet with sweat, staring directly at you, smiling, sealing the deal with a cheeky wink.
There was no mistaking it… The look, the smile, the wink. It was meant for you and you alone.
“Did you see that?” Your friend screams before you can even fully process what happened.
“I… Uh…” You stammer, looking at her to confirm what you saw before you say anything, knowing full-well she could be asking about the goal and not Rafe.
“Oh, please,” Lexi scoffs teasingly as she shoves you away. “That shit was for you, and you know it.”
The car ride to the bar was filled with music and laughter. You can't help but get lost in your thoughts. Replaying that moment a few times before opening Instagram, fingers hovering over the search bar.
“Just do it,” your friend laughs, watching it all; face twisting slightly as she catches you debating.
“I didn't ask you,” you chide light-heartedly.
“You’re thinkin’ about followin’ him… Just do it,” she challenges you.
“Do you think that he would have followed me if he was interested?” You ask as you look at his handsome profile picture.
You hesitate for another second, looking through a couple of his newer pictures. And just when you’re about to take the plunge, you look up at the little heart in the right-hand corner, seeing a new notification. New follower, Rafe Cameron.
Your eyes widen on the screen, and you and your friend gasp in unison. Before you can even think about it further, she clicks the little blue confirm button for you.
“What the hell?” You scold her, slapping her away.
“I’m invested, I’m sorry,” she laughs. “What? Were you gonna say ‘no’?” You shake your head ‘no’ and smile, looking at your new friend, feeling your excitement rise.
The bar downtown is packed with post-game and Saturday night traffic. The music is loud, and the energy is high as students pour in to celebrate the hockey team’s win and the start of winter break. You push through the crowd, making your way up to the bar. You order a few mixed drinks before snapping some pictures.
”Ooh,” Lexi coos. “That one’s perfect.”
You upload the pic of the two of you holding drinks, tagging the bar. It wasn’t entirely intentional—or that’s what you told yourself. If Rafe just happens to see it and shows up? Well, that was just a beautiful coincidence.
The night rages on, drinks flowing, conversations blending into laughter, more friends arriving, turning your little group of two into a full-on party. You start to relax a little more, feeling the liquor course through your system, and then you feel something else as a large hand rests on your lower back.
“Hey, Babe.”
Your eyes widen, and you freeze, hearing a voice you were not expecting nor wanted to hear. You turn slowly, coming face-to-face with Mark, a guy from your accounting class, too. The kind of guy who made you excited about the semester’s end. Unfortunately, he was the type of guy who never took ‘no’ for an answer…
“Hi, Mark,” you mumble, keeping your tone flat and uninterested, knowing that even the slightest bit of kindness would be confused for much more.
“You looking stunning tonight,” he praises as he steps even closer, making you take one step back.
“Thanks,” you sigh.
“You here with anyone?” He asks curiously as he scans the crowd. Your friend looks between the two of you—her judgment of his hidden piss-poorly. The girl was unapologetically Team Rafe all the way, and Mark Lundell is no Rafe Cameron.
“Just my friends,” you say as you swirl your finger around lazily, gesturing to your group gathered around.
“No invite?” He fake pouts and you feel your body recoil when you hear it. Mark seems to notice your disdain, but it doesn't stop him from trying. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in possessively. You rest your hand on his chest, pushing away slightly, but he doesn’t get the hint.
“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you-”
“No thanks,” you shout over the music, not even curious about what he meant to ask.
He chuckles and scoffs playfully, turning his hat to the back as he moves his face closer. “Hey-Hey, don’t be like that,” he soughs.
You close your eyes, swallowing thickly as he continues to talk, wondering what it’s gonna take to get him to fuck off- “She’s with me,” Rafe’s voice rolls through your mind like a sweet dream.
You turn, breath catching as you see Rafe walking in, just a few feet separating the two of you with his big hands stuffed in his jacket. His sharp gaze locks on Mark, and he gives him a little whistle and a nod, kindly telling him to ‘fuck off.’
Mark scowls, looking down at you and then Rafe. “Cameron?” He asks. The two boys are familiar with each other from the gym locker room—exchanging glances when the baseball boys leave and the hockey boys arrive.
“I’m her boyfriend,” Rafe says smoothly, eliminating the space between you. Your heart stutters at the word, but Rafe doesn’t miss a beat, reaching behind you to shove Mark out of the way before taking his “rightful” place at your side.
“Since when?” Mark asks as his expressions shifts.
“Since none of your fuckin’ business, Lundell,” Rafe smiles, his tone calm but firm.
“You know, if you’re not interested, you can just say that,” Mark snaps, recovering from his bruised ego by turning to the bartender, gesturing for a new bottle of Coors. “You don’t need to be a fuckin’ bitch-”
“The fuck was that now?” Rafe smiles, his eyes wide and wild as he separates from you, standing toe-to-toe with him. Mark doesn’t back down, his chest puffed as he looks slightly up at Rafe.
Rafe bites his lips, holding back a laugh, his relaxed demeanor’s somehow more intimidating than any show of aggression.
“Call her a fuckin’ bitch again, and we’re gonna have a problem…”
“Oh, yeah-”
“Honestly, bitch. We already have problems because regardless of who the fuck I am, she told you no… And you kept pushin’,” Rafe hisses, emphasizing the final word with a rough shove.
Mark’s a big guy himself, who doesn’t move too far, but the contact made him flinch, leaving Rafe holding back yet another chuckle.
“Walk away,” Rafe mumbles, his voice low and steady.
Mark’s dark eyes lock on yours. The bartender walks over, resting his beer on the bar top. He takes his out, snagging the bottle off the hardwood before rolling his eyes and sucking his teeth, disappearing into the thick college crowd.
You breathe deeply, letting out the deep breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in, quickly turning your attention to Rafe.
“You okay?” He asks protectively as he twists toward you.
You look up at him, your heart racing, and you nod, “Yeah… Thanks for that.”
“No problem,” he shrugs it off. Rafe rests his hand on your lower back, making your heart race, lighting you on fire as he flags down the bartender himself. “You want a drink, princess?”
Before you can overthink it, you rise onto your tippy toes, kissing his cheek. Rafe freezes, a soft, shy smile spreading on his lips, making her feel weak.
“Truly… Thank you,” you whisper. “Do you want a drink? It’s on me,” you assure me, turning your attention to the bartender as she arrives, but you can tell Rafe’s mind is still stuck on the kiss. “Rafe?” You giggle, resting your hand on his chest, feeling his heart bang underneath.
“Uh… Yeah. I’d love that, sweetheart. A Coors. Thanks.”
You order your drink, and Rafe reaches over you, his arms a little longer. He passes the bartender his card instead, starting a tab as you protest, but he just rolls his blue eyes and smiles.
The rest of the night is a blur of laughter, easy conversation, and alcohol. Rafe’s charming, funny, and much more than the reserved guy you had seen in class.
You talk about everything—school, hockey, your favorite places in town—and with every passing minute, your little crush blooms into something more. You feel comfortable, like you’ve known each other forever. And to Mark and the rest of the bar, that little boyfriend title he used honestly looked like the real thing.
At some point, the drinks catch up with the both of you. Rafe leans closer, his breath warm against your neck, making you turn into him. The boy quickly pulling you up onto his lap.
“You know…” He says, his words slightly slurred. “I’ve had a big fat crush on you all semester.”
Your eyes widen on his, hands resting on his chest as your mouth falls open in surprise. “You have?” You practically gasp, making him laugh at how happy you look with his admittance.
“Mhmm,” he hums as he wraps his big arms around your waist, moving closer. “You’re so—fuck,” he chuckles as the words get caught on his lips. “You are so fuckin’ pretty.” You laugh and shake your head. “What?” He asks bashfully.
“You, Rafe Cameron, are the prettiest boy I have ever seen-”
“I’m pretty?” He chuckles, lifting his eyebrow as he points to his chest.
“Mhmm…” You giggle.
“Well, shit… Thank you,” he smiles and flutters his lashes playfully.
Just like Mark did, Rafe grabs his hat, twisting it to the back, trying to eliminate the space between the two of you, but unlike the boy before, your tummy only fills with butterflies. Rafe tips his heavy head against your temple, chuckling drunkenly.
“I’ve had a crush on you too,” you admit, and as soon as the last word leaves your lips, he’s wrapping his big arms around you, pressing a rough, wet kiss against your cheek, making you squeal.
“The fuck you have?” He asks as he pulls back fast.
“I’m serious," you giggle as you turn to the side, looking directly into his gorgeous eyes.
Rafe bites his lip, studying yours, his glassy gaze hanging at half-mast. “Well, shit… S’my lucky night. Huh?” He asks.
“Feelin’ pretty lucky myself,” you whisper as the two of you get closer and closer. The air between you feels electric—charged with the buzz of too many drinks and sexual tension. Rafe’s gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, the two of you not realizing how close you’re getting until your lips connect.
The bar around you hums in the distance, and it feels like just the two of you for the moment. It’s uncoordinated—but perfect in its imperfection. Your lips move against his, making heat radiate through your body. Rafe smiles against your lips; you return the same, the pair of you pulling apart, giggling like teenagers caught in the act.
You look at Rafe—that same fire lit his eyes that’s burning in yours. He holds your cheeks in his hands, desperate to kiss him again.
“Should we-”
”We should,” you hum.
“Do that again. Yeah?”
“Mhmm,” you giggle. Rafe guides you off the stool, pulling closer, the two of you stumbling slightly, giggling before your lips find each other again.
“We’re kinda drunk,” he whispers against your mouth.
“Is that okay?” You breathe, just hoping he’ll say ‘yes.’
“It’s okay with me. Is it okay with you, princess?” He asks.
“It’s okay-” You pant as your lips crash into his, warm and messy. You let out a soft moan against his lips, hands scratching into the hair at the nape of his neck as his hands roam your body. His grip on you is firm—yet another assurance that he wants you just as bad.
The world spins around you, your head fuzzy from the drinks and your perfect kiss. You break away just enough to grab his hand, tugging him toward the hallway. "Where are we-" Rafe starts, but you cut him short with another kiss, this one hungrier, more insistent.
"The bathroom," you whisper against his lips, feeling him smile again. Rafe draws back, looking both ways before opening the door. The two of you kiss your way inside, pushing back into the first open stall.
Rafe grabs your hips in his big hands, pulling you into him. You can feel his semi-hard cock pressed against his jeans, getting stiffer every second. You let out a breathy sigh against his soft, sweet mouth, Rafe taking the opportunity to slide his tongue inside as his lips move against yours.
He rolls his back against the bathroom wall, making you gasp as his thigh splits your legs. He leans back slightly, guiding you closer, leading you to grind your aching clit on his upper thigh. Rafe smiles against your lips as you take his wordless direction. He moves his hands from his lips to your ass, squeezing as you rock with the tempo of your kiss.
You gasp as you feel his cool hands rest against your tummy, your little breath turning into a deep, needy moan as he cups your laced-covered breasts in his rough hands.
You continue to grind as his lips press roughly against your neck, sucking with a bruising strength as you feel a warmth spread through you, little pangs of pleasure spurring from between your thighs.
You draw back slightly, biting your lip as you ride his leg. Rafe stares back at you, the look in his eyes painting a filthy picture of the two of you doing so much more. Thinking about you riding him just like this, your warm, wet cunt hugging him tight.
You can feel yourself soaking through your panties with each swivel of your hips. You grab his beautiful face, pulling him in for another kiss, hungry for more. “Rafe,” you whisper needily, your name leaving his lips so sweetly, making him moan into your kiss.
“Yeah, pretty?” He rasps, this voice sweet and thick like honey.
“Can I?” You ask shyly, but honestly, it’s why you brought him in here in the first place, desperately wanting your lips wrapped around him and maybe more…
“Can you what, princess?” He drawls before taking your bottom lip between his teeth, biting and tugging, making chills fall down your spine.
“Can I suck your cock?” You ask gently, feeling Rafe let out a breathy laugh like he can’t believe those words are leaving your sweet lips.
“You sure, baby?” He asks as he reaches his hand down, already working on his button.
You move down to your knees, looking at him through your lashes. “M’sure,” you smile. “Very, very sure.”
You grope his clothed cock with one hand, drawing his zipper down with the other before lowering his pants just enough, looking at his dick tented under the cotton, a wet stain of precum gathered on it. You wrap your lips around his tip, wetting Rafe’s boxers, making his breath catch in his muscular chest.
You suck the taste off, quickly pulling down his boxers too. Your eyelashes flutter as you take him in, his tip still weeping precum, long and thick… You release a desperate moan, thinking about what his length would feel like pushing in and out of your wet cunt, wondering if you could take him all.
You stroke him slowly, watching his eyes fall shut, head falling back on the metal partition. Your heart sinks a little, seeing his head sticking out over the top of the stall about four inches; those concerns quickly wave away as you hear a deep groan leave his lips.
Rafe looks down at you again as you hold his throbbing dick in your hand, running your tongue along his length before teasing the tip. Your hand drifts under his t-shirt, fingers working up his cut abs, feeling the little divots under your fingers deepening with each sharp breath he takes.
“Shit,” he pants as you bind your lips around him fully. Rafe wraps his hand around the top of the bathroom door, squeezing tightly as you take him to the back of your throat, bobbing again and again.
Rafe’s head falls back, knocking against the wall, making his eyes double at the loud sound; the man quickly shushing you with a finger up to his pretty lips and a playful smile like you had anything to do with that noise.
You wrap your lips around his tip, sucking, causing him to buck his toned hips, pitching his long cock in your throat. You lift your hand, slipping it through the slight space between his body and jeans, cupping his heavy balls in your hands.
"Fuck, princess," he groans, "I’m gonna cum.” You take your cue, gagging on him, salvia and precum drooling out of the sides of your lips. He bites his lips, stiffening deep moan.
You rest your hands on his thighs— Rafe’s muscles quivering underneath your palms. He cups the back of your head in his hands, tugging you as close as he can get as he cums deep in your throat.
His breath shudders as you draw out the last bits of his pleasure, swallowing it all as he looks down at you in a drunken, lust-ridden daze. Rafe pushes out a sharp breath as you pull off his cock nice and slow, cleaning off your lips with the back of your hand as he helps you off the floor, leading you back to him. You pant into your kiss, your deep breathing competing with his. “That was so fucking good,” he mumbles.
“Mmm… Glad I could make you feel good,” you whisper as you tug up his boxers, trapping his hard cock in the band of it, not wanting to pressure him into more, given you were the one that pulled him in here in the first place. “Should we head out?” You ask, between soft kisses.
“I don’t wanna,” he mumbles. “Do you?”
You giggle against his lips, moving a little closer. “No… I just don’t wanna pressure-“
“Pressure me?” He asks in disbelief, stopping you before you can finish the thought as his big hands cup your cheeks, pulling you into an even deeper kiss. “You fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”
“I don’t know,” you giggle lightly.
“You can use me however you’d like, princess,” he whispers. “Told you… It’s my lucky night. I’m feelin’ lucky. I’m gettin’ lucky. This is the best night I’ve had in a very long time,” he mumbles the last three words between tender kisses. ”Let me taste you, sweetheart.”
”Yeah?” You ask softly.
“Fuck, yeah…” He hums as he fingers the button of your jeans. “Let me get you good and wet first, hmm?” He asks as he rolls you against the wall.
Rafe tugs at your pants just like you did, making you gasp, pulling them down just enough to get at your panties. He slips his big fingers into the waist pant, spreading your legs slightly, making you whimper as he runs two big digits through your slick folds.
“Shit, pretty. Fuckin’ soaked f’me already,” he hums against your lips. “Bet you’d feel so good wrapped around my cock.” He pushes his fingers inside you, making you reach for a breath; Rafe curls them, drawing out a moan from your pillowy lips.
“I want that so bad,” you pant as you stare into his sin-darkened eyes as he starts to work even quicker, broad palm smacking against your puffy clit repeatedly, making it that much harder to hold back your sounds of pleasure.
“You want my dick, princess?”
“Mhmm…” You hum needily.
“Think you can wait?” Rafe teases as he twists his hand, making a moan rip from your throat that has you both looking at each other in shock, fighting back a laugh that quickly turns into another whine as his rough thumb circles on top of your clit.
You bite down on your bottom lip, tossing your head back, and just when you think it can get any better, he moves to his knees, flicking his tongue across your clit, making your muscles jump as his fingers continue to dart in and out. Rafe chuckles against your clit, the warmth of his voice making you whimper, toes curling, fingers twisting in his hair.
“Just like that, Rafe… Don’t stop,” you plead as you feel yourself about to lose control completely.
“Cum for me, princess,” he hums against your sex, the vibrations sending you over the edge, leaving your body fluttering around his big fingers, muscles trembling uncontrollably. He doesn’t stop until your body relaxes fully, you fighting for a breath as you slump against the bathroom wall.
“Holy shit,” he practically moans as he rises to his feet again, his handsome face flushed, chin glistening with your arousal. You pull Rafe to your lips, tasting the two of you together, your body feeling like it could float away.
Rafe pushes you into the wall, his cock hard just like it was before—his want for you practically oozing off his skin. “So, should we get out of here?” He teases you with your own words, chuckling against your lips as you giggle against his; Rafe has no intention of leaving unless that’s what you want. You have no intention of leaving either as you tug at his jeans and boxers again. “Need you so fucking bad,” Rafe mutters as he turns you around, grabbing your wrists, guiding your hands on the wall in front of you as you push your ass onto his hard cock.
Rafe’s hands drift underneath your hockey jersey, lifting it slightly as you bend over. “Gonna get you one of my older jerseys when we get home, aight?” He hums, smacking your ass with his big hand.
“You’re takin’ me home?” You ask sweetly.
“Yeah, baby… ‘Course I am,” he drawls as he leans in, pressing his chest against your back, pushing a gentle kiss on your lips as he traces his fat tip through your slit, bumping your clit, making you gasp.
“We doin’ condoms or what, princess?” Rafe questions as he bullies your hole, bottom lip tucking between his teeth, teasing himself with your warm, wet pussy praying you’ll say ‘no.’
“Boyfriend privileges,” you giggle as you look over your shoulder and smile, giving him a little wink.
“Fuck, I love the sound of that, baby-”
You draw in a sharp breath against as Rafe thrusts into you slowly, his fat tip filling you before he presses in inch by inch, finally bottoming you out. His hands rub along your lower back, letting you adjust to his size; your cunt pulling him in just like he imagined, leaving him tossing his head back to the ceiling.
Rafe grabs your hips, grunting about how tight you are as he pulls out to the tip, shoving himself back inside, making you reach behind your back, wrapping your trembling hand around his wrist to steady yourself and keep from crying out.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the bathroom, but you couldn't care less. And neither does Rafe, slapping your ass again, making your pussy tighten around his fat cock as he ruts into you quicker and harder.
“Holy shit,” you whimper, your bottom lip quivering in overstimulation.
“Mpfhh…” He grunts, pounding into your soaked center again and again. “So good, princess… Taking me so fuckin’ good. You gonna cum? Fuckin’ cum for me,” he begs as he pulls you back fast, pistoning his hips, fucking you on his dick as your fingers spiral on your clit.
“Oh—Oh, fuck. Rafe,” you squeal as you cum around his cock. Rafe’s jaw tightens, using his last bit of power to fuck you through your orgasm, and the second he pulls out, you gasp, feeling his climax land hot on your lower back. His cum pools in the dip of your spine, rolling down your warm skin.
Rafe clutches your hips in his hands, taking a deep breath as his throbbing dick resting on your ass. The two of you panting and groaning, coming down from your highs together.
He cleans you off, helping you back into your clothes between soft kisses and sweet nothings. Rafe looks at your sweater, scrubbing off a little bit of cum caught on the fabric, making a joke about how he’s technically on the back of your jersey now, making the two of you laugh way too hard.
Rafe’s hand is warm in yours; his firm yet gentle grip guides you through the packed bar. Laughter and music swell around you, but all you can focus on is Rafe’s touch and his thumb gently brushing against your hand.
The two of you step up to the bar at the same spot where you started your night, standing side-by-side with your knight in shining armor. You glance up at him and smile as he orders you two drinks before closing your tab.
Rafe kiss-swollen lips curl into a small smile as he feels the heat of your gaze out of the corner of his eye. He grabs the check off her hands, scribbling a tip and a total. Rafe sets it down and moves a little closer, stepping chest to chest with you; your back backed up against the bar. His hair is messy from your bathroom romp; slightly mussed, a soft purple mark forming on his neck from your lips, a particularly rough kiss.
Rafe grabs your hand, flipping it over, pen hovering over your palm. You watch as he works: his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, his chicken scratch handwriting tattooing your skin, but the words stop your heart.
Tomorrow night 7 pm Luna Rosa I like you a lot -RC
You blink, rereading it like your brain is playing tricks on you. But then he looks at you—those intense, drunken eyes locked onto yours—and kisses the back of your hand.
“I mean it, princess,” he mumbles softly. “In case you had any doubts.”
You rise on your tippy toes, kissing his cheek again like you did earlier in the night before tucking yourself in his neck. “I really like you too, Rafe,” you whisper.
When you pull away this time, he’s not just stunned silent; he’s ready. Rafe cups your cheeks in his hands again, kissing you deeply, pulling you into his arms, and there is absolutely no doubts. ♥️
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
nymphaerie · 2 years ago
Text
GOD LOUISE REGAILIA MAKES ME SO FUCKING INSANE EVERY TIME I THINK ABOUT HER I FEEL LIKE IM GOING TO EXPLODE INTO A MILLION LITTLE PIECES. ITS JJUST LIKE. girls when they havce to kill their former selves in order to survive. girls when the self they take up in turn is constantly destroyed and remade in order to never be attached to one life. girls when the only way they know how to save themself is to lock themself away. girls when they’ve forsaken their home and in turn been forsaken by it. girls when theyre both the abandoner and the abandoned. girls when they think theyre the most sane completely normal one hundred percent hinged person in the world. girls when they already know they didn’t deserve what they went through but can’t imagine a world in which they can heal from it. girls when they won’t let themselves heal because they don’t know who they are without their hurt. because they killed that girl. and theyll keep killing her forever and ever and ever and pretend thats the same as healing her.
#decided to post this drubnkenly adter reblogging that one post . anyway all my tags after this are from whenebvr this draft was first saved#which were all written as though no on ewas actually going to see this. but oyu are all now going to see this. so. deal i guess lmao#me when i post about my ocs as if theyre well known characters even though ive literally never talked to anyone about them#anyway. *hits you with a beam that makes you love louise even though you don't know who she is*#oc tag#n talks#god knows im never going to make qtts into something finished and tangible because i just. man.#its been in my brain for sooooo long and changed sooooo much that i kind of can't even imagine it being like. Real.#im not even sure what a 'finished' version of this story would look like in my ideal world you know.#it was originally conceived as a comic but. mmh. i dont know.#i feel like its so close to my heart and so malleable and intangible that its going to just stay something cobbled together#in pieces of character sheets and random illustrations and worldbuilding notes and unorganized rambling#just. like. forever.#and maybe that's fine! i have other projects that i Can imagine as 'finished' pieces#like nightsparks and ghost puzzles which were conceived as games so have very specific goals#even wolfepress feels more tangible to me because even though it was also conceived as a comic it was done so with a pretty distinct goal#but qtts has always been. like. Big.#which makes it different than any of those but also different from. like. parfait partea which were pretty much Meant to just be#fun characters who wouldn't ever be part of a ~project~#like qtts IS something. but i can't conceptualize what that something IS.#im being dramatic it would jsut be like a comic or a show or something but like in terms of my wmotional connection to working on it#i can't imagine it as something static i guess.#like all those other things i can imagine being. whole. as something a Finish and Publish. and that would be how theyre seen and understood#but with qtts its so. grrrrrrrrr i just can't imagine it being One Singular Thing because its always changing so much .#ok wow this started as gushing abt one character and ended up being a vent about my inability to finish things LMFAO anyway. yeag#LONG POST#sorry i have things. to say
0 notes