#6 layers of too sweet for me

[cheyisagirlkisser]

CAMGIRL ELLIE

Camgirl Ellie AU: Ellie Williams x Fem! reader

Description: Ellie is a broke college student whose options are either selling weed on campus or doing filthy things on live for her mainly female audience. When another famous camgirl joins one of her lives, she is about to have the collab of a lifetime.

Content / Warnings: Femme camgirl reader, headcannon-style fic, explicit content, Jesse and Dina make cameos woah, Ellie is all cute and nervous for the first half, masturbation on camera, fingering & oral sex, use of strap-ons, reader is on receiving end, feminine reader, use of petnames (baby and mamas), breeding kinks, mult. orgasms. Enjoy the ride.

Word Count: 3.3k

★ Camgirl Ellie who is a sophomore in college, so broke and extremely desperate come with the territory. Like, Taco Bell is a luxury broke, and desperate as in she has applied to every job around campus. She even thought about dealing for a while, but as much as she loves a good smoke sesh, she'd rather not risk getting kicked out of school for something as dumb as selling blunts.

★ Camgirl Ellie who laughed when her friend Jesse suggested her being a camgirl.

"Why the fuck would I give old creepy dudes jerk-off material?"

Jesse laughed, grabbing a handful of cheetos from the bag in her hand. "Dude, you wouldn't be doing it for men. I mean, look at you." Jesse took a good, hard look at his friend; the several silver rings across her five fingers, a short-sleeve blue button up layered over a white wife-pleaser, and for god's sake, a pair of jorts that only Ellie could pull off. "You're clearly not for the male gaze."

After much (15 minutes) contemplation, she decided that maybe it'd be fun to get attention from girls and money at the same time.

★ Camgirl Ellie who is actually rather awkward and quiet around girls in the real world, cursing "fuck" under her breath when she sees a pretty girl but just doesn't know how to impress women in a way that doesn't come off as too forward or weird. That being said, she actually likes having a persona online where she can say anything she wants, and she definitely abuses the fact that she is allowed to say anything she truly feels like saying, and women will go crazy for it.

Sitting on her couch, propping up her iphone 11 on the coffee table with a pop socket she got like, 6 years ago so that the fans have a wonderful view of her stroking a strap-on with cheap lube she picked up from her local Walmart. Her bush is slightly peeking out from the harness, and the fans are getting filthy. Not as filthy as camgirl Ellie, though.

"Fuck, feels so good on my clit.." she groans, throwing her head back dramatically.

dykeluvr69 commented: oh my god y'all her happy trail i'm throbbing

wet4williams commented: i wish i could ride that strap

andersonsabs33 commented: mid💀

Ellie squints, anticipating all the thirsty comments, and scoffs at one, her hand jerking away from the silicone shaft for a moment to tell off some random.

"Suck my dick, andersonabs33."

fairydustonmyclit_2 commented: me next please!!

★ Camgirl Ellie who doesn't always have to be explicit to even get views. She finds that focusing the camera on her fingers while strumming her guitar can work wonders online. If she has had an exhausting day or is feeling anxious about getting naked in front of an overwhelmingly growing audience, she can always just show off her hands or say sweet things to her fans.

★ Camgirl Ellie who is not a virgin. She's had a few past girlfriends, no casual sex, but is pretty experienced from her long-term relationships. That being said, she never once has considered doing actual sex on camera for money. That changes when another famous (and nearby) camgirl joins her livestream.

Ellie's once again on her couch, two fingers doing figure eights on her clit as the view count rises. She's basically man-spreading to give her girls the best view possible, and not holding back from letting out breathy little groans and loud curses. Her fans go crazy when she has her tits out, so her sports bra is hitched up, her perky tits free and her nipples stiff.

"F-Feels so good, holy shit, wanna cum for my girls so bad," she groans, closing her eyes. Ellie doesn't view real masturbation as anything like her online work; if she were actually to be playing with her pussy all alone with no audience, she'd cum by now. But that doesn't make a profit, no. Longer time is important, and the more she ups the antics, teases her fans, the more comments can come in. The more donations arise and all that good shit.

Ellie teases her entrance with her middle finger, and her eyes flutter open as she eases the digit past her puffy folds.

She reads through the chat to hold out from cumming too quickly.

elliessluttygirl commented: i wish that was my hand playing w ur pussy ellie:(

Ellie smiles, curling her finger and moaning. She smiles lazily. "Yeah, slutty girl..wish it was yours, too."

As she adds a second finger upon the majority request in her comment section, she pauses at the feed.

urfavfemme has joined the livestream. Say hi!

Holy fuck. Ellie hasn't seen your videos, but the pink checkmark on your name means you're verified. Suddenly, Ellie is nervous as hell now. How is she supposed to act now, with some famous, probably fine woman watching her? She swallows and continues bucking up into her palm, but her fingers are slightly shaky now.

urfavfemme commented: ur pussy is so pretty.

Ellie laughs nervously at that. What the fuck is happening? But maybe she can use the situation to her advantage.

" 'urfavfemme', huh? Cute username," she coos, a little breathlessly because now she's getting closer to cumming, her nerves dying down as her fingers massage her sensitive walls. Ellie is so fucked up, she thinks to herself. She doesn't even know what you look like yet, why is she getting so crazed by you complimenting her?

urfavfemme commented: i wanna see that pretty pussy squirt please..

Ellie moans and squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, trying to wrap her head around it all. She gets dozens of comments just like these, thirsty ass girls drooling to her playing with herself or showing off a strap-on. Why is it that the idea of you, a self-proclaimed 'femme' making these comments is the thing that makes her belly all hot with the familiar ache of true need?

pixiestickpussy commented: holy shit this is so hot

wet4williams commented: is it just me or is smth going on with ellie and this camgirl chick

imonherefortheporn69 commented: i checked out the girl's content she's super hot dude

Ellie's head is spinning at the whole situation. It's overwhelming and she wants to just turn off the camera, but she's so close and getting desperate to cum. It is just so fucking hard when all of her girls are in an uproar over you.

urfavfemme commented: stretch me out on those fingers.

"Oh- Oh, my fucking god!! 'm cumming-" Ellie can barely keep herself from crying out as the waves shoot through her body throughout, a finger covering her clit to extend the orgasm that hits her so deeply. Her fingers are soaked more than usual, juices trickling down her knuckles. Her other palm is massaging over her tits, and for a moment, she forgets she is on camera. Forgets the thousands of people watching her, probably fingering themselves just like her. The though that is usually so overwhelming is forgotten.

Her body is warm, and if she could describe how this nut feels right about now, she'd say it's hot pink. It's light lightning, and for some reason, all she can repeat in her head is "thank you thank you thank you urfavfemme" because seriously, this has been one of the most insane experiences of her life. When she finally comes down, she has to take a few moments to catch her breath.

The aftermath of it all hits her. She did not just cum like she does in private. The usually dramatic orgasms the viewers got are nothing like that, and for what? Some girl she hasn't even seen yet?

The comments are going off, praising her and thirsting like she's never seen before, but she is still panting and flushed on her couch.

urfavfemme has donated $1000.

urfavfemme has left the livestream. Bye!

Ellie is quickly turning off the stream with a half-assed goodbye, and collapsing back onto her couch. She cannot believe that she just lost control like that. Her mind is processing the huge donation, too. A whole thousand is more than she's ever gotten in donations on a single live. How famous are you?

Ellie can't dwell much, because as her body cools down, she realizes how soaked the towel she is sitting on is. Oh, my god. She actually squirted on live.

★ Camgirl Ellie who searches up your username on google a few days following the squirting contest incident, and is soon brought to a url that hits her like a flashbang as soon as it loads on her ancient ass laptop. Her screen is covered in pink, and a pretty white font with your username is front and center. She then sees your face and nearly nuts. You're fucking gorgeous, definitely out of her league.. How are you the same girl that talked her through an intense orgasm over a livestream the other night?

★ Camgirl Ellie who spends the next few hours watching your videos. She has found a new obsession, that's for sure.

She has hearts in her eyes watching you bounce on a fairly-sized dildo suctioned to your floor, helplessly groaning with a hand down her basketball shorts as your pussy swallows the length of the toy. Your moans are what really gets her. You sound like anything but the pornstars she's heard, instead moaning like you're really getting it. And suddenly, Ellie wants to be the one to give it to you.

★ Camgirl Ellie who types out various messages to send to your gmail so conveniently linked on your website until she finally settles on something not too awkward

To: urfavfemme@gmail.com

From: elliewilliams19@gmail.com

Subject: Collab? Dear urfavfemme,

You were in my livestream the other day. I'm Ellie from the camgirl website, and I wanna know if you'd like to collab? (If you're around my area, of course).

Reading it back after she sent it, she sighs. That looks way too fucking professional for a request to do porn together.

★ Camgirl Ellie who anxiously waits for about an hour, not even Borderlands 3 able to distract her before she finally gets an email back.

To: elliewilliams19@gmail.com

From: urfavfemme@gmail.com

Subject: Collab?

Hi!! I'm in Fairview, WY if you're near? I'd love to collab:)

★ Ellie, who is freaking the fuck out now. She hadn't had sex in two years since Dina traumatized her with the worst break-up possible, and you're one of the hottest girls she's ever seen. Plus, she is only an hour away from you.

Jesse laughs when she rants to him about the whole thing.

"So you've got a fine ass girl offering to have sex with you? What's the problem?"

Ellie scoffs and gives him a glare, but there isn't any true malice. "That's the problem, idiot! She is way hotter than me. Plus, I haven't even had any practice in so long. What if I can't make her cum? What if I embarrass myself on live in front of both of our fan-"

"C'mon man, you gotta get out of your head about this. Does she seem nice?"

Ellie nods.

Jesse sighs, and slightly softens his tough-love look. "Look, she is probably just as nervous as you are. Give yourself a break, and go have fun with the pretty femme girl."

★ Camgirl Ellie who shows up at your apartment a little earlier than she meant to. She didn't mean to speed, but she was nervous on the road, anxiously tapping the steering wheel.

★ Camgirl Ellie who is greeted by you in a robe and what she assumes is going to be either nothing or lingerie underneath. That makes her heart beat even faster. She feels like she's gonna puke from how nervous she is, you're even more gorgeous up close.

★ Camgirl Ellie who takes in your bedroom compared to her own small apartment's bedroom. You've got posters covering your walls of various artists like PinkPantheress and Joan Jett and the Blackhearts; your bedsheets match your whole feminine vibe, and you have a whole camera set up with a stand. There's a box with a harness and different sizes of dildos inside of it. All of this is making Ellie even more nervous, like, shit her pants nervous.

You seem to take notice of her nerves, because you have clear concern on your face as you guide her to sit on your bed.

"You okay, Ellie?" voice so sweet and soothing, it could make her heart stop.

"Yeah..I'm okay.." she sighs, and anxiously chews on her lip, "I'm just like, me.. and you're super hot and all-"

Ellie's self-doubt is choked off when you cup her face, leaning in. "Do you know why I donated?"

"Why?" Ellie sounds shaky, a little confused on where this is going.

You give her a sweet smile, your glossy lips catching the ceiling light. You lean in even closer so that you can speak quietly, intimately. "I thought that you were easily one of the hottest camgirls I've ever seen on the website."

Ellie's eyebrows shoot up at that. "No fuckin' way you think that.."

Your smile doesn't falter, and you lean in even closer. "I do. I want you to fuck me, Ellie."

★ Camgirl Ellie who didn't know how passionately one could eat a pussy until she got a taste of yours. With the camera all set up and the live on, viewers roll in quickly at the promise of a collab between their two favorite lesbian camgirls. Ellie never forgot about the camera when it came to her solo steams, but you just have an effect on her that makes her head dizzy and her pussy throb, and all of a sudden she has her tongue deep in your wet pussy, alternating between tonguing your hole and tasting your clit. You're sprawled out on your bed, completely naked with Ellie between your thighs, and your moans are even louder than usual. They're angelic sounds that make the comments roll in like crazy.

dykeluvr69 commented: ellie eats pussy like a madman and i am so jealous rn

andersonabs33 commented: she's too sloppy with it, slow tf down girl.

This time, Ellie is far too blissed out devouring you to even pull away and tell the troll to fuck off.

"Mmmph, pussy tastes so fuckin' good.." You can't make out her muffled declaration, but the vibrations on your clit have you creaming for her.

Your pussy just sings for her. Three orgasms in, and she hasn't even used the strap she's wearing yet. She wants to savor every soft whimper you make when she nibbles on your neck before making out with you, tongue shoving into your mouth so that you can take your own perfect pussy on her tongue.

★ Camgirl Ellie whose fingers curl inside of you relentlessly, pumping into you, coaxing out orgasms like it's nothing. To her though, it is truly everything. You cry like you're pleading for her to never stop. It feels like hours that she's been tending to the perfect cunt you've got between your legs, and she doesn't know where she even learned half of the shit she's done. It isn't too hard to please you when she craves your sounds, though. She craves the feeling of your thighs squeezing the apples of her cheeks, making her lightheaded.

★ Camgirl Ellie who saves best for last, finally rubbing girthy silicone against your clit, making you whine in the process. That sound goes straight to her clit.

She grins with a newfound confidence, one she think that she has been given from a witchy ritual or something, not lesbian camgirl sex.

"You want me to fuck you good, baby? Fuck you 'till you squirt on my dick like you made me squirt?"

"Please, fuck, Ellie..." You're babbling nonsense at this point, legs spread wide and knees almost to your ears at you nearly sob for her dick.

"C'mon mamas, I wanna hear you beg for me." She taps the tip against your clit repeatedly, holding you down by the back your thighs to keep you from trying to squirm for more.

"Please, Ellie!! Fuck me, make me cum. I want your dick."

Ellie groans as she finally parts your soaked folds with the tip, sinking into your heat slowly as to not hurt you, but she soon finds that your walls are just swallowing her completely. All that foreplay must've really paid off.

★ Camgirl Ellie who practically goes from a nervous wreck to a pornstar in a matter of minutes, because she insists that she can feel how tight you are around her huge dick.

"Fuck, baby. Gonna fuck this pussy so good, gonna make you scream my name." She manhandles your legs around her waist so that she can hold your hips while she pounds into you, creating a whole bonfire of heat in your pussy.

"Feel you so deep in me, Ellie!" You almost break when she starts leaving sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

"Yeah? Gonna make you feel me in your tummy, mamas. Gonna put a baby in you." Where in the hell did that come from? You both roll with it, if not getting even more riled up by the idea of Ellie cumming in you and knocking you up.

"Please, Ellie. 'm g-gonna cum for you-" before you can finally have your orgasm, it's ripped away as she pulls out of you. You can't even protest or make a loud whine before Ellie is flipping you onto your stomach, frantic to tuck one of your pink pillows underneath your tummy. She lines back up with your sloppy hole, slamming back into it to earn herself an actual sob from you.

You cry into the pillow, not from pain at all. No, this is probably one of the best fucks you've ever had in your life. Ellie doesn't start slow again but rather pistons her hips into yours, bony hips slamming into the fat of your ass upon each thrust until you finally get the intense orgasm you need.

"Pleaseknockmeup-" you cum with a broken cry, a couple euphoric tears streaming down your face. Your poor bedsheets, all soaked from you and Ellie's pussies and your tears. At this angle with the pillow raising you, you believe you can truly feel Ellie all up in your stomach. The waves are more like knots of a rope being snapped in half deep inside of you, and Ellie only keeps you riding the pleasure with her little sloppy grunts audible behind you.

Ellie groans as the friction to her own clit is vastly more intense with each grind to meet your body, and now she is humping your ass to get herself off. After she cums with a "gonna fucking cum in this pussy", she goes limp on top of you, her sweaty body covering yours, her tits pressed against your back in a way that is more comforting than arousing now.

★ Camgirl Ellie and you who entirely forget about the live and fall asleep in your bed together, snuggled up with you the big spoon, and the cum-coated strap on thrown somewhere across the room. Your bodies are flush against each other and your hands are wrapped around Ellie’s stomach, holding her closely.

fairydustonmyclit_2 commented: aw this is actually kind of cute

pixiestickpussy commented: i wanna be sandwiched between them wtf

limpbizkitsbitch commented: ts gonna be awkward when they wake up

andersonabs33: quit being a miserable bitch

limpbizkitsbitch: ironic coming from you🌝

andersonabs33 has left the live. Bye!

[girl-lostconnection]

Unsweetened Lemonade (part 6 - the end)

Part 5

Warnings: fluff, Punk!Ghost x Nerd!Reader, suggestive themes, biting, mention of abuse, insecurities, plus size!Reader, light smut

Simon becomes a part of your life, slotting in like he has always been there.

As if years before his appearance, the rightful place in your heart was just growing cold in wait for him.

You don’t notice when the shift from silence to “Riley” to “Simon” happens — its gradual and imminent.

“Was always meant to be”, Simon thinks, hand curled around your shoulders, your warmth seeping into him through layers of clothing, your soft thigh pressing to his, making him lightheaded — eyes dark and heavy.

It feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Simon doesn’t say it out loud but you can see how thrilled he is whenever you muse “Si’”, syllable rolling off your tongue like a clicky sour candy — mouthwatering, your cheek aching a little (still feels like your body is a bit overwhelmed with how often you smile now).

You slot in Simon’s life and he’s not sure about anything but you stay and he crumbles.

Piece by piece, like a biscuit that was left in hot tea for too long — limbs honeyed and heavy, heart aching, warmth spreading all over.

Rolling under his skin until he’s syrupy and soft, head nuzzled in your tummy, nose pressed to the warm roll of it. He’s still not sure how someone can be this soft. How is it even possible? God sure did take his time when he worked on you, bloody genius crafting someone this gorgeous.

Simon nuzzles into you on regular basis, starved for affection, mouthing at your neck, soaking you with his adoration. He’s always close, always ready to wrap himself around you, pulling you as soon as you give him a nod.

It’s bittersweet, sometimes. To realise how much you hungered and starved for a companionship, for stable connection — everything that Simon gives so freely, generous in his own affections.

It’s a lot for him as well. His over sensitive nerves fraying when your lips ghost over his throat, his hands wrapping around you. It’s so much. So sweet.

Simon groans, hips buckling when when you leave a mark behind his ear, eyes feral with hunger, mutt inside of him itching to bite back, itching to mount, itching to pull you under and never let out.

His voice cracks and breaks when your palms graze the warm tender abdomen under his sweater, his every cell on fire, mind pitch dark and empty, breathing coming out in short pants.

Simon throws his head back, hitting the wall with a dull thump, palm pressed to his mouth, cheeks red and eyes feral. God, you are gonna ruin him.

Please do.

Simon’s thighs slide open, throat bobbing and he doesn’t look down, but knows for sure that you do — ache between his legs feeling hot and heavy, throbbing under your gaze.

Simon forgets everything but your name, chest heaving and throat bared for your wet hungry kisses.

He has never been wanted like this. Has never been craved. Has never been devoured.

Simon chokes on air when you finally touch him, thumb rubbing in circles and he’s going mad, god, please, he needs it. Needs you. Needs more.

Moremoremoremoremoremoremore.

Simon comes down from his high, feeling lightheaded and trembly-handed, nuzzling his red face in your neck, palms sliding under your T-shirt — splaying over the small of your back. Just a minute. Just…he just needs to breathe, yeah?

Simon murmurs that nice isn’t for him and by god, you are wonderful.

He watches you, his limbs heavy, warmth of the blanket enveloping you both, limbs tangled with yours, head sharing a pillow with you (no, I can’t move, luv, wha’ is it, now? You don’t like me? Though’ I was special).

Nice isn’t for him, he confesses — shame and vulnerable sharp-angled hope coiling inside of him, spreading under his skin, scratching tender flesh.

Barbed wire of “I’m not worthy. I’m nothing. I’m dirty” stinging his eyes. Simon isn’t sure why you stayed.

You open your eyes, murmuring that you aren’t nice, voice impossibly soft, warm knuckles tracing circles on his hip.

You press your forehead to his, closing your eyes and breathing out “you are lovely” like you are revealing him sacred truth.

You throat bobs when you swallow and you are just as red as he is, your heart pounding against his chest like it tries to get under his ribs and solder itself with his.

And something inside of him cracks, uncoiling, spreading with the force of meltdown, twisting him in ugly shapes, because “you’r bein’ unfair, luv”.

Because god, he loves you.

He never loved like this before and it feels like the most terrifying thing in the world.

Like the sweetest, most beautiful and hopeful thing either.

Simon watches your trembling lashes and your sweaty palm grips him tighter and god, you are scared too.

Realisation makes something enormously tender open in his chest, pouring out, his hand wrapping around you, rasp of his voice quiet and wet.

So lovely. How could he ever go without you, sweetheart?

Such a sweet sweet darling. Such gentle most delicious bite of his life.

Oh, love, he’d burn for you if you asked, he’d crawl for you, he will live for you.

You two have a long way to go — still a whole life ahead, after all this is just the beginning. But you no longer need to watch your back at school and no longer need to inhale your food on the go.

Simon watches your back (always, love, always) and walks you home and offers absolutely horrendous funniest jokes you ever heard (Wha’ came first — chicken or egg? Come o’, luv, think…Rooster did).

Simon is there and he stays, awkward angles and all.

Maybe nice things weren’t for him.

But they are now.

You smack his shoulder when he parrots back that you aren’t nice, Simon snorting and kissing you as you huff and puff.

No, you aren’t nice. You are lovely.

You hiss when you are mad, you snap when overwhelmed, you bite him back (Simon pulls scarf down smirking like a big bad wolf, neck littered with marks — lipstick kiss under his jaw, outline of your bite on the crook of his neck).

You sigh in exasperation when he’s being stubborn and purposefully obtuse, you mumble under your breath when you study, you hide in his neck when tired.

You are there. You care for and about him.

You sit with him, huddling for warmth on the bus stops — back pressed to his chest, his chin propped on your head or shoulder.

You hum something soft, helping him clean up when he’s bruised up, nose bleeding — his dad’s favourite football team losing third match in a row.

You are there.

Not pushing when he needs space, not punishing him for needing it in the first place. Just expecting the same courtesy in return whenever you need it.

Simon doesn’t know if he’d ever get used to it, tiny wounded part of him still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for you to say what it is you want with a train wreck like him.

Surely there’s no way you don’t want anything.

Which is true. You do want something.

A lot of things, frankly.

You mention offhandedly, gesturing for him to sit down and peel potatoes with you. Simon tilts his head to the side, eyes heavy, thumbs hooked in his pockets but he silently plops himself down and takes the potato.

It’s evening, kitchen is all warm from cooking, smelling like chicken and garlic, you both in warm Christmas socks.

You want him, for starters, you murmur, focusing on the potatoes, saying it like it’s obvious.

You want you both to get better. You want to live on.

You want to graduate with nice grades and keep studying, even if he decides not to go into uni.

You want to rent with him a place with big windows and warm lights.

You want to shop for it together — choosing blankets and mugs and silly little trinkets. “Happiness mementoes”, you nickname them, eyes soft and knife gliding as you peel the round corners of vegetable.

And you’d like a cat. Or maybe a dog. Though maybe a fish would be better? Just to see how it goes and if you are good at taking care of something other than each other.

You get carried away and don’t realise he’s been silent for what feels like forever.

Not until he quietly asks what kind of ring you’d want. If you thought of that too.

His voice thick with adoration so raw you feel your face heating up, blush climbing higher and higher.

Simon has never been so serious in his life, eyes boring into yours intensely.

He’s never been so in love.

You try to say something, anything but the question hits your like a fright train, your eyes wide and skin tingling from how hot you suddenly feel.

Simon huffs air out through his nose softly, lips curling upwards and puts away knife. Simon circles the table and pulls you in, peppering your blush-hot face with kisses, thumbs rubbing your hips, eyes shining.

You really want him, aren’t you, love? Planned out everything but bloody wedding.

Simon feels laughter bubble in his chest and he’s melting-melting-melting.

“Got you tongue-tied, eh? Though’ you planned i’ all, sweet’eart”, he murmurs with grin so wide his eyes crinkle.

Home with big windows? Yeah, he’ll remember.

“I want you too, luv”, lips ghosting over your cheeks, smiling wider when you blindly turn your head to kiss him.

God, how did he even got lucky to deserve you?

“Think about the ring, darlin’”, he purrs, teeth sinking in your cheek — gentle pressure sending hot shivers down your spine.

“Think hard, yeah? I’m goin’ to ask you again”

Simon pulls you closer, nose nuzzling in your temple, palms stroking your sides and hips. Up and down.

Yeah, he’ll ask alright.

Because if you want him — you got him, love.

And he’s got you.

Taglist: @figthoughts @pastelbabygirl19 @haven-1307 @viennakarma @themadamehydra-blog @squishytap @unfriendlyneighborhoodlibrarian @roastyyytoastyyy

[cremedolle]

currently updating: prtygrl scent reviews 🍰🎂🧁

perfume oils

1. strawberry cake

my absolute favorite perfume oil of hers! it has a strong, sweet strawberry cake smell and i love using it with every single strawberry lotion, body oil, and perfume of mine! i loved it so much that i had to purchase it twice. i definitely need this scent in a body nectar + body milk version as well.

2. cozy sugar

i actually bought this one for my mom, but it has a soft and sweet sugary scent! it goes perfectly with any vanilla or cashmere perfumes / lotions!

3. cake pop

very soft & subtle!! it smells like a sweet vanilla cake + icing. i actually paired it with the pink sugar oil and they smelled so good together. i'll definitely be doing that more often

4. pink sugar

totally reminds me of the aqoulina pink sugar mist! if anything it smells a little better and it's not as powdery which can be a little overwhelming at times

5. sugar cookie

i don't like this at all... i didn't like the way it smelled in the bottle so i put some on my arm and it was okay, but then it just grossed me out?! i tried pairing it with my vanilla cashmere lotion + sweet tooth perfume combo and i still disliked it. i ended up tossing it, but so far this is the only prtygrl item that i disliked!

6. flower fields

i also disliked this when i first smelled it. it smells kinda weird in the bottle? i put some on my arm and i ended up liking it though! it's like a fresh flowery scent and i think i might use this with my daisy dream by marc jacobs perfume.

7. warm cream

a creamy vanilla scent that goes good with anything vanilla scented and more! i personally love layering vanilla scents with something strawberry or fresh like.. it smells so good to me! if you want to play it safe for your first purchase, i definitely recommend!

body nectars

1. strawberry vanilla macaron

my faaave body nectar from prtygrl! it has a heavenly sweet strawberry scent and when i put it on my body i was literally glowing. it's also strong too and very long lasting. pair it with the strawberry dream eos lotion + daisy love by marc jacobs you'll smell edible. i'm literally obsessed with this scent and i desperately want this in a shimmery version / a shimmery body milk as well! if you're a sweet strawberry lover then you will love this 100%!

2. brown sugar baby

omg how do i describe this.. it smells like a brown sugar syrup to me? something thats in a sweet yummy drink? that isn't bad at all because it smells delicious and edible! i love pairing this with vanilla scented perfumes and also the cinnamon buns body milk! this is easily my second favorite body nectar.

3. pink sugar

smells pretty much the same as aqoulina pink sugar mist. this smells a bit more powdery than the perfume oil which i don't mind since it's soo nice. it's also very light and not a very strong scent which i find nice to layer with!

4. strawberry milkshake

so delish and truly smells like a real strawberry! i can also smell slight milky notes too and i jus love it. it's also subtle and perfect for layering as well so i enjoy using this with my strawberry cake perfume oil + other strawberry fragrances that i own!

5: strawberry shortie

this definitely smells like strawberry shortcake / a strawberry pastry! it has a warm cake scent + the perfect amount of sweetness thats not too overwhelming or overly sweet. this is perfect for the people that want to smell like a strawberry pastry, but one that may not be overwhelmingly sweet.

6: marshmallow fluff (sparkly)

i actually don't smell much marshmallow? honestly, it smells more like candy + a little vanilla. also, i wish i saw more glitter on me! the nectars are packed with glitter but i don't really see it, luckily everyone else does though! i have the sweet tooth perfume by sabrina carpenter which also has marshmallow notes, so i'm definitely gonna try to use both together and see how i feel about it later!

7: glazed donut (sparkly)

totally reminds me of a sweet maple bar with a hint of brown sugar! i'm so in love with this.. if you're looking to literally smell like a donut this is perfect for you! i also suggest using this with eos vanilla cashmere lotion or prtygrl brown sugar baby body milk.

body milks

1. brown sugar baby

smells exactly like the body nectar. these have a thick consistency and once rubbed it, it's just as shiny as the body nectars! i love using this on top of my vanilla cashmere eos lotion + vanilla scented perfumes / cake pop & warm cream perfume oil.

2. cinnamon buns

would you believe me if i said it smells like a freshly made cinnamon roll? my first impression of it is a strong cinnamon scent, but after putting it on it a lot like sweet cinnamon rolls! once again, perfect for using on top of vanilla cashmere eos lotion + warm cream perfume oil.

[lesbianpuppygirl]

Yandere Butch Lesbian Boss x Fem Reader

You work a part time job at a small pet supply store, tidying the products and cleaning the animal's cages.

Your manager Dahlia (or Dahl) is an irritable woman. She tends to be short with your coworkers and obtuse customers. However, she has never once yelled at you.

Dahl has an imposing frame. She stands just above 6' and has a true bodybuilder's figure; her muscles softened by a good layer of fat. Dahl is an older butch lesbian with dark eyes, short curly hair, and an elegant hooked nose.

Early in your employment at the pet shop, you'd been warned by your coworkers, in a light-hearted manner, to be careful of getting on Dahl's bad side.

In spite of this, Dahl treats you like a beloved lap dog. Your mistakes are never as severe as others, and she even takes the time to reassure you when you become upset at yourself.

Dahl holds obvious favoritism towards you. Praising you for simple tasks and calling you her good girl.

Dahl first became enamored with you in your first week. You'd coo and talk to the mice while changing their bedding, make sure to tell Dahl good morning/evening, and smile to yourself whenever a dog walked into the store.

The catalyst of her obsession was at the end of your first workweek; you'd brought her homemade cookies to thank her for the job.

Although this certainly wasn't her first experience with hospitality, something about you- you standing there with wide, hopeful eyes as you handed her that still warm container, nervously telling her how she seems like a good boss and how thankful you are.

She saw you as a delicate thing, someone she must protect and praise. She just couldn't find it in herself to be upset at you in the way she would be at your coworkers. If you made a mess it didn't matter. In Dahl's mind, you should be pampered and relaxing all day- anything more difficult than that was an accomplishment in her eyes, and she'd never blame you for falling short.

When you told Dahl that you were attracted to women as well, her heart swelled with hope. And thus her plan to whisk you away began.

You're just a sweet little thing, someone who needs a big strong butch to take care of you.

Every time you smiled at her, rushed to her aid, or asked for her help, she fantasized about swooping you into her arms and taking you home.

One windy day, when it was too dangerous for you to bike or walk home, she offered you a ride. As you sat in her passenger seat, calmly looking out the window, she stuck you quickly with a needle, causing you to pass out.

You wake up with your ankles tied down to her bed, her anxiously sitting at your side.

Dahl? Why is she here? And where are you? Why don't you remember going into this bed? You wipe the sleep from your eyes and go to sit up, only noticing the ropes when you feel their resistance against you.

Still groggy from the sedative, you whimper out in confusion and growing fear.

"Wha-where am I? Dahl, what's-what's this?"

You tug on the ropes for emphasis, looking up at her for help. She makes no move to untie you, instead dropping to her knees beside you and grabbing your hands.

Her expression- hopeful and scared- makes you scramble away.

"Da-Dahl? Did you - why aren't you untying these? Please tell me you didn't- Dahl-"

Tears fill your eyes as you frantically search her face.

Dahl stands up and pulls you into her arms, petting your hair and holding you tight.

"Shh .... shh ... It's alright, sweet girl. I know, I know, it's okay,"

Dahl pulls back, her hands framing your tear streaked face.

"I know it's sudden, sweetheart, I know. I'll take good care of you. I won't keep you trapped here, I promise. I just- I just need you here, alright?"

You sniffle, and decide, in the haze of overstimulation and stress, to nod.

Her face lights up. Dahl sits on the bed and pulls you into her lap, laying you against her muscular chest.

"Oh! Oh, I'm so glad! I was so scared, sweet girl. I'm sorry for doing it this way, but I'll make you happy, I promise."

Maybe, you think, this wouldn't be so awful. Dahl has always been kind to you, being cared for by her, being loved by her, must feel as nice as her kindness does.

You rest your cheek against her chest.

"You promise I won't be here forever? I can see my family and friends?"

Dahl's expression softens, she presses a kiss to your forehead before speaking.

"Of course, sweet girl. Oh, my sweet girl, you can do whatever you want as long as you're with me."

-------

thank you for reading!! I hope other people like this and that it isn't too self indulgent lol. this is my first time actually creating a character so I hope it's not too bad

[bblairxe]

Congrats on 500!!! ❤️

Soooo what about painting Vis nails as a way to spend time with her? Like she doesn’t think to much of her nails otherwise and then you ask to paint them and BOOM now she’s obsessed with her nails and the process of getting them painted

৻ꪆ cw : jus fluff !!

৻ꪆ wc : 1k

৻ꪆ i wrote this at 6 am and i haven’t slept pls give me some grace for any spelling errors or grammar mistakes 😓😓

it was one of those late nights, you and vi laying in your bed talking about nothing. the room was dimly lit by cheap fairy lights scattered across the wall that’s also filled with posters of your favorite bands. the soft music playing in the background and the lit candles really set the mood for a sweet friday night.

while you talked, you kept your hands busy painting your nails. they’d been needing a refresh—most of the polish had already chipped away. you grabbed the small plastic bottle, carefully smoothing a fresh coat of milky white onto your bare nails.

the scent of nail polish lingered into the air, mixing with the aroma of your candle. you paused between strokes, shooting glances at vi as she leaned back against the pillow, watching you with curiosity and heart eyes.

you look up to meet her eyes, giving her a soft smile out of nervousness. “you ever do this before?” you asked, holding up your hand to show your work.

“once with jinx, she had me paint her nails though.” she grinned, recalling back the nostalgic memory.

you hummed in response as you finished up your nails, layering the top coat on before setting them down to dry. “maybe i could do yours?” you offered, giving her a hopeful gaze, “it’ll match you, especially with a bold color. like something that screams ‘i’m vi’.”

she giggles at your words then shakes her head, “i dunno, i do too much with my hands anyway. they’d be all messed up within a week or so.”

“that’s why you would come to me, duh dummy.” you tease, leaning in to press a quick peck to her cheek.

vi’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn’t pull away, a smirk forming on her face. “oh so you’re saying you’ll be my personal nail tech now? is that a part of the deal?”

you shrugged, leaning back against the pillows beside her. “why not? i’ve got the skills and you’ve got the hands. seems like a fair trade to me.”

she laughed at that, shaking her head as she reached out to grab your freshly painted hand, pressing a soft kiss to it then inspecting your nails. “alright, i’ll bite. you got a bold blue or bright pink?”

your face lit up at her response—if you could, you’d be doing backflips right now. instead, you reached over to grab your bag of nail polish, pulling out two bottles like they were precious gems. holding them up for her to choose, you watched as she pointed to the pink. letting out a small squeal of excitement, you quickly set your bag down and tried to contain yourself, though the huge grin on your face gave you away.

“okay, first i have to prep your nails. don’t worry it won’t hurt and will only take about ten minutes!” you inform her, placing her calloused hands on your knees. you begin to trim and file her nails down into a downwards u shape, then buff her nails out, giving them a light shine. after, you to cut her cuticles to ensure her nails look neat, lastly you apply cuticle oil and a base coat to create a smooth foundation.

you check in on her, she replies with a soft hum and a gentle smile playing at her lips.

“now we can get to the fun part, painting.” you grabbed the bottle of pink polish and give it a a couple smacks against the palm of your hand. vi watched you as you twisted the cap opened with practiced ease, her head tilting slightly as if she’s trying to figure out how she got so lucky.

“you look way too excited about this,” she teased, her grin growing at your cheerful demeanor.

“of course i am! you have no idea how pretty your nails will look.” you glanced up at her and give her a wink before focusing on her hand.

as you carefully swipe the brush across the second nail, vi’s hand twitched slightly. “you gotta stay still, or it’ll get all messy, silly.” you scolded lightly, giggling between your words.

“sorry, it just tickles,” she muttered, you could hear her smile in her words.

you give her another peck on the cheek as a sign of reassurance. you finished the first coat on one hand, holding it up to check out your work before moving onto the other.

by the time you were done, vi was watching you with a soft expression that made your heart sputter. you capped the bottle and set it aside, then reached for the top coat to seal the color.

“okay, almost done. just need to let them dry now.” you blew softly on her nails, getting a chuckle from her.

“you really went all out on this, i love it.” she said, her voice quieter now. like she’s trying to study every aspect of them.

you shrugged, feeling a bit shy by her compliments, “well it’s not everyday you get make vi lanes look pretty in pink.” you tease, trying not show off how nervous you are.

she laughed at that, shaking her head. “yeah, yeah. but i guess . . . it’s kinda nice.” she flexed her fingers slightly, careful not to smudge the polish. “never thought i’d let anyone do this.”

you smiled, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her knuckles. “first time for everything, huh?”

and as the polish dried, the two of you fell back into easy conversation, the soft glow of the fairy lights and the warmth between you making it a night you’d never forget.

[ireneaesthetic]

Pointing out little moments and details of scenes that need to be remembered.

lake scene • episode 6

before diving into it, bare with me! the lake scene wouldn't be the lake scene if it wasn't for edvin and omar fr: the uncut version of the convo wilmon has was 8 minutes long and all improvised when it was shot. edmar just got told to say what they thought wilmon wanted to say and boom! this lake scene happened. no one is doing it like them.

oh alice is the cherry on top - the 'oh alice we're growing up', the melody fits the setting and the warm colors just right. the perfect song for the perfect scene.

talking about song - wille's song was written right after this scene as lisa said: 'i could see simon walking back home that night, sitting down by his keyboard, birds singing outside, the sun already up and finally it dawning in him: it shouldn't be a revolution to love someone'. do what you want with this info!

without further ado, let's get into it :)

the little smirk after wille stumbles is cuuute. terms are not the best but it still takes something so simple to lighten the mood.

wille's carrying his blue blanket with him can only mean they went to his room to take it before heading here - and so in the time between scenes they talked and thought about the lake to forget everything, planned to bring a blanket to lie down on and enjoy the sunrise, just the two of them :')

you can see the weight of the situation suddenly hitting him.

it's so bittersweet - the lake has always been their happy place but the mood is much darker now, they're sharing what they think is the last big moment together at sunrise.

they try to keep the convo as light as possible but they know too well how much this hurts.

the single tear streaming down.

the different reactions are what get me the most: wille seems almost relaxed in letting the emotions take over compared to simon who's very controlling over it - he blinks and bites his lip trying to stop more tears from falling, he averts his eyes.

simon's not so accepting whilst wille looks resigned.

the scene makes the best out of the limited time bc nothing feels rushed at all: there's no music at first to create that alone time intimacy properly and it keeps getting better with the camera focusing on the way they look at each other shot after shot.

wilhelm breaking the silence with it takes a fool to remain sane is the sickest thing isweartogod.

such a monumental and fond throwback. it's the first memory they have of each other but it's also the first one we have of wilmon too. it brings everyone back to that very first time.

this shot is incredible. young royals will always hold a special place in my heart and i want to remember wilmon just like this.

you would never tell they saw and touched and explored each other's body more than once by the way they're both so shy to undress and wilhelm has to tear his eyes away from simon.

they're still my favorite losers <3

it's also the first time simon undresses himself without wille's help. i think the essence is - to be completely bare and show the most vulnerable version of themselves, to get rid of all the layers and weights they carry around, to let it all behind for this one last time together.

the sparkle in simon's eyes when he looks at wille is so sweet. it's more of a bitter taste that comes with this scene, but in a list of moments that are a perfect example of how much they simply enjoy each other's company, this is definitely one of those - simon says 'when it was us it was good' at the end and it is very true.

all i see here is the plain and simple version of them, they feel so much and everything about this scene is telling us that they just needed to found the right place and the right time to let it out - the nostalgia, the sorrow, the sadness, the silly energy too. it's all so pure.

'they undress, they walk down into the water naked, and they are rebirthed'. lisa once described this moment using these words and they're probably the most accurate. it reminds me of the thing i wrote earlier - taking the white clothes off feels like freeing themselves of every burden and then stepping into the water as a form of sanctification of it.

whether you see it in a religious or a non-religious way, it is a very beautiful image.

the eye contact game is going stronger than everrr.

they're too pretty to be real ugh.

the splash of water :')

this is extremely beautiful and the transition between the two is perfectly made.

it's such a loving gesture - we can't really tell which one of the two is done before but it's the fact simon does it twice that matters: he follows the instinct to do it once but it's still not enough so he feels the need to do it again.

this shot was one of the stills that came out for promo before the season's release and i remember being completely blown away by it.

i claimed it and said this scene would be one of the core ones of the show and well, i guess i was right!

the whole water sequence is a visual representation of simon getting further and further away from wilhelm. both times he turns around to look at him tho - it's not what he wants to do but he has to do it for their sake.

also! one pov is from into the water and the other one is from the shore. idk if it's casual or hides an actual meaning but it's fun to point out sooo

too many single tears were shed for my fragile heart to handle.

this pretty much sums up the way i felt at the end too.

pain is written all over simon's face but i was not prepared for wille's sobs and his shoulders uncontrollably shaking. stab me.

he just keeps watching simon slip through his fingers and he's left to wonder what's supposed to happen now?.

from wille's words - 'how can you just be over me? i thought it would be us' - we learn that he's convinced simon is already over them and he's alone in struggling to accept it and move on (oh if only he knew).

he breathes but this is more of a this is it sigh - now it's time for me to learn how to let him go.

[alexlwrites]

from my notes app:

Just picture it: Yoongi who just... never had a crush. Sure, he has felt attraction that sometimes evolved into something more through dates or other encounters. But a crush? Feet kicking, face blushing, giddy giggles? No, he couldn't say he ever experienced that.

Until you.

Until you showed up, a new manager at the company, and left him shaking in his disconcertingly large boots. You were bright, witty, charismatic and hard working and he stood there, arms hanging by his side awkwardly like a damn emoji, hovering around you unsure about what to do, what to say, how to act.

It was so frustrating! He never felt this way before and at 30 years old he felt as if he was going through a late puberty: voice cracking when he tried talking to you, waking up sweating from a dream way too realistic, poorly timed boners when he saw you walking around the office with skin tight pencil skirts.

His so called friend weren't making it any easier for him: Yoongi had officially become the butt of every joke as the members collectively regressed back to the 5th grade, murmuring everytime you showed up "here comes your wife, hyung, here comes Mrs. Suga".

Thankfully, you seemed unaware of their jabs, even as yoongi's pale cheeks blushed fiercely at the name.

He didn't know whether to be greatful or resentful for your obliviousness. On one side, you didn’t seem to hear the constant on going teasing from the other 6 raccoons he shared a band with, which saved yoongi from the swift death at the pearly hands of embarrassment, ripping his dramatic soul from his even more dramatic body.

On the other hand, you couldn’t seem to take a hint! He tried all of his best moves: standing there silently next to you, offering you a single tangerine, playing the guitar when you walked in whilst offering absolutely no explanation or context, even wearing his most scandalous, whorish outfit: a white tshirt that showed his collarbones instead of his usual 37 layers of clothing.

He didn't know how to make it any more obvious! Should he just take you against the wall of his studio (he totally should!, his lower brain unhelpfully provided as you once again strutted past him leaving him sniffing after your perfume like the fucking dog he was)?

He even tried asking his friends for advice, the lowest form of humiliation possible: Jungkook offered only baby oil and told him to lose a couple buttons. Hoseok made him couple matching beaded bracelets. And Namjoon, scorpio venus horndog, told him to actually go through with the wall taking idea.

Funnily enough, Jin was the one with the most plausible idea: give her a gift, bake her something! Homemade goods would show her how much you care.

So there he was, at thirty years old, holding onto a plate of cookies like a lifeline, cold sweating in front of your office, ready to flee the building and suck up those cookies like a hungry Kirby and mop in his own lameness like the international grammy nominee celebrity he was.

And then you opened the door and his body just reacted on his own, thrusting the plate towards you silently as his eyes screamed pure panic.

"For me?" You asked and he just nodded "Thank you so much, you are so sweet!"

Yoongi felt his lips curving and even without a mirror he could tell he had a dumbstruck smile on his face.

"What's the occasion?"

Ask her out, he urged himself. Tell her how you feel, how you can't stop thinking about her face, how her smile fuled his daydreams and her perfume haunts his days, bleeding into his psyche and sinking its claws into his heart, turning every song he wrote into a proclamation of adoration and lust, tell her how...

"Hm, for all y-your hard wo-work" he sputtered, mentally face palming himself at his own words.

Bugger.

Bugger it all to hell.

(Part 2>>>)

[sinligh]

It’s early summer,

the hopeless romantic in me found her way to the surface when the heat melted couple of my overprotective layers.

so here i am, allowing her a moment of spotlight and myself some vulnerability.

it’s past midnight, I’m sitting in floor of my kitchen eating fruits with a knife

wondering, if it’s really safe to romanticize life?

I indulge myself anyway, and think about how fruits can be considered a love language if you’re starved enough to taste love that’s throughly stained with muted apologies. 

I trust, that when the sun rises tomorrow all my attempts to romanticize life will sublimate and create a thick fog of melancholy that I’ll have no other option but to get lost into.

even so, tonight I’m tired enough to let it be and so i write this, my own report of pathology

officially it’s untitled, but I’m thinking: the pathology of love.

i start by resecting pieces of all the habits that i define my existence based on along with some of the heartache that i held onto for too long

deep down, i know some of it belongs to my mother

At least its mature flavor says so, that, balanced with the sweet essence of an overly ripe fruit that never belonged

Young and brash and an acquired taste.

it’s a poorly fixed microscopic tissue, preserved in a high percentage of feminine rage

Low expectations stained with love and paranoia alike and the question that asks itself:

is it benign or malignant?

is it infiltrating my soul, taking away from my potential to grow ?

It stays unanswered, an unforced error

because i always carry those little versions of me that vary in the percentage of their belief in my own bone marrow

a core biopsy will always show that i still believe.

•••

•Quotes: Anaïs Nin/ Sylvia Plath/ Virgina Woolf/ Franz Kafka/Marcel Proust/ Simone de Beauvoir/Anne Carson/ Andrea Gibson/Anaïs Nin

•Original context:

•Art reference:

1. British School - Head of a girl, c. 1850. 2. Painting ( details) by Richard E. Miller. 3. Paintings by Jen Mazza. 4. Neil Carroll Original Oil Painting Realism Impressionism. 5. The Gross Clinic (details), by Thomas Eakins 6. Wounds of the Earth by xis.lanyx. 7.painting by Herbert James Draper.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cabin in the woods (yandere!shasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yandere!slasher!Horangi) chapter 6

You start to break down, finally accepting Konig's soft advances.

WARNINGS: Blood, dub-con bordering on non-con, general slasher-y, mild knife stabbing

Masterlist with all chapters This on AO3

This basement is filled with dead people. Or, so you thought at first glance. 

At the second glance, you notice a broken bicycle, a bunch of furniture pieces, and something that you could only describe as a particularly horrible-looking attempt at wood carving. Or, maybe, a hanging post. You were in the killer’s layer, after all. 

You were there for 10, maybe 15 minutes, and you already know that you are not making it out sane. Your whole body is trembling, your head is throbbing, you are dizzy after an orgasm, and Max is still lying here, his body is warm and soft. Blood stopped dripping from his stomach, but it didn’t make him any less dead. Coughing and almost throwing up from disgust, you spit out every last bit of cum that you managed to get out of your sore throat. You needed something – water, normal food, a good few hours of sleep because you’ve been running on sheer adrenaline for the past 12 hours and it started to take a toll on your…everything. 

Just a few hours ago, you were a bored college girl on her forest trip with a bunch of weirdo friends. Your biggest problem was the utter boredom of this fucking woods, not the murderous maniacs on your tail. Now…

— Open wide, Maus. Let me feed you, ja? 

Now you were spoonfed reheated chicken soup by König. Colonel in the PMC. The guy who dropped his mask to make you even more scared because you see all the burn marks and scars on his face, and just know that you won’t ever be able to resist someone as strong as him. 

Guy who calls you “good girl” and pets your head and tries to engage you in this weird as fuck power dynamic that makes your cheeks warm and your mouth open, even though the saltiness of the soup makes you remember his cum and…fuck. Oh, god fucking damnit. 

He is smiling like a maniac, making sure that with each spoon of your soup, you also eat something…you don’t even want to acknowledge it, your stomach is too empty, and your mouth was already tarnished by him, so what’s the problem with a few more drops of his semen, carefully added to the mixture so you won’t be able to miss it? You cringe in disgust as he smiles and pushes even more in your throat, almost making you gag from the spoon deep past your teeth. At least you know that the chicken bits here are actual chicken. 

— Let…let me go. Please.

You finish the bowl of soup after a few torturous minutes. The salty taste in your mouth leaves you cringing, and König smiles, wiping your face with a napkin. You feel helpless – with your arms newly bound, there is nothing much you can do when he presses a bottle of coke to your mouth, making you wash away the incredible saltiness with even more incredible sweetness. You want to gag, but he closes your mouth swiftly after. 

He smiles. 

— We’ll walk you later. Now is not the time for girls to be out. 

— I’m not a…

He scoops you in his hands, your body swinging in the air like a doll. It’s horrible, just how strong he is – makes you tremble in his hold, like a useless little victim you are. God, this even sounds embarrassing – yet you can hear the smile in his voice as he drags you along with him. Forcing you to look at Max’s dead body, the smell isn’t filling the room just yet. You try your best to consider yourself lucky. 

— You’re cranky, Maus. Need to get you out of here before he starts to smell, right? Brainy ones usually rot extremely fast. 

He laughs at his own joke as he pushes you in his arms further. Your head pounds with every one of his rough, deep phrases, his hands are going to roughly manhandle you in place. You whine, too weak to resist but not too weak to stop crying. God, this is pathetic. And scary, And not like those movies about hot killers and half-naked girls. 

You’re not a final girl material because instead of fighting him and slamming your knee in his dick again, you get even further on his hands, hoping he would be able to hold you in place like you wanted it. 

— Not sure if I should call you a Kitten or a good girl. What do you prefer? 

He pushes his large, calloused hand to your face, smearing blood all over your cheeks once again. You cringe, your nose gets the fragrance of blood and decay from his skin – the weirdest fucking perfume that you hope to never smell again. Sobbing softly, you allow him to press his hands on your body, to roam around freely, like you were his fucking treat and not a real person with wants and desires. 

— Fuck you. 

— It’s Horangi’s job, girl. Not yours, ja? 

He laughs plentifully, getting you in his hands. You shiver under his touch, not wanting his fingers anywhere near your abused body – they got you off one time exactly, and you wish never to come from your captor’s toucher. You don’t even want to look at Max, too scared to ever see his lifeless, cold face – terrified of the deep path you feel towards him. Like nothing has happened, like he wasn’t one of your friends. You don’t feel anything besides being tired, and you can’t begin to unwrap all the complex feelings behind your assholish friend group deaths. 

Jenny and Chad are still out here, still could get help – but they were ignoring every one of your pleads, not wanting to ruin their nice vacation with your dumb panic. Deep down, you almost feel like screwing these fucking assholes and hoping that they would get impaled by a large freaking stick, preferably in the middle of very lame and satisfying sex. Preferably…

— König, I thought we agreed of not letting her out. 

— You’re going hunting, and I need company. 

— She could run, you know. You’re too soft on her. 

— I can break her ankle! She won’t run then.

König’s voice is so cheerful you actually feel nauseous. He is smiling and laughing, and they both hug before the shorter guy gets out – you can’t even begin to remember the outline of their house because, honestly, serial killers shouldn’t have houses this nice. Ruch wood, probably painted with blood, some hunting trophies, probably incrusted with human bones and remains of their victims, a lot of silly little knickknacks that are probably trophies from the previous groups of dumb college kids…

Shit, no matter how much you wanted to say that this place looks horrible and straight out of a horror movie, it still looks nice. You wonder if it could be scored for a low price, with all the disappearing in the woods around it. You wonder if they started to kill people to make the house cheaper and buy it for half a Euro and a firm handshake. 

König grabs you like a plush toy, squeezing you in his magnificent, strong chest, almost making you choke on his boobs as you just desperately try to breathe. He smells like masculinity, too much male perfume and blood – you tuck your face closer to his neck, trying to see if you could, perhaps, bite through his blood stream and vampire your way out of this place, but he only laughs, feeling your teeth on his skin as a form of foreplay. You didn’t want foreplay, you wanted to fucking kill him, maul him to death, do everything in your power to drop him on his back and perform acts that would be not only concerning to feminism but humanity as a whole. 

He drops you on the couch before you can sink your teeth into his shoulder, leaving perfect teeth marks on the pale skin of his body. You heard somewhere that human bites are actually incredibly dangerous and call make you ill – you also hoped that you could somehow get rabies from that one poor rodent lying dead on the ground, and so you would be able to transfer the disease to these two fuckers. 

You hoped that Karen would give them all the STDs that are possibly could be transmitted. 

You hoped that Max would annoy the shit out of them before he died. 

You hoped…but it’s useless now, isn’t it? You are sitting on the couch, your captor keeping a firm hand on your thigh, his erection still hard in his pants – you refuse to look at it, you’re better than this, but, oh god, you had no idea a dick could be this dick and don’t prod through pants. You feel like a house dog that was allowed to sit on the soft furniture for the first time in her life, and you hate it. With a groan and, perhaps, a bit of an angry yelp, you fall to the ground. 

König smiles immediately – and pushes your face between his legs, perhaps thinking that you just died to suck him off. You wince, both from disgust and fear. Your jaw is still sore, and you aren’t sure how you can still close it. 

— Such an eager girl, ja? I will give you what you want then. 

Come to think of it, while he is relaxed and his partner is out of the house, you could try to bite his dick off. It should give you a headstart to run and find a weapon to eliminate one of the problems. Then, again, it would require you to put his dick in your mouth again. 

Your jaw pleaded to just allow him to fuck your pussy instead. 

Your pussy pleaded to just give him your ass, to not risk being pregnant. 

Your ass…yeah, you’re not trying anal for the first time with a guy who can swing his dick like a baseball bat and kill some unhappy campers with it. 

With the swiftness of the wind, you get up, sitting on the couch in the most modest pose you can imagine. You threw away a couple of pillows in the process – nice pillows, soft pillows, pillows you couldn’t imagine in the house of not just two killers but two military dudes who don’t seem like the type to like everything soft and cute. Besides you, you guess – or they always get one of their victims as leverage or a fucked up pet until they are fully committed to just killing you and eating what is left of your remains. 

König only laughs, getting a hand over your shoulders and pressing you closer to him. You don’t want to, but you’re basically naked, save for your underwear and torn jeans, and he is warm. You don’t need a blanket when you have his hot flesh next to your skin – you suppress a smile, trying your best not to fall into their clutches. You’re tired, yes, but it’s not an excuse to be a whore! There are many more convenient moments to be a slut and this one is not it. They killed your friends!

Your asshole friends. 

— You have any movie preferences? 

He has to repeat his question a few times, you’re too lost in thought to actually listen. Only when he pinched your thigh, no doubt leaving a bruise, you kinda jumped in place, only barely containing a pathetic whimper. His fingers just started to gently squeeze and play with soft flesh, only making everything more warm and twisted and painful. 

— No slashers. 

He chuckles, pressing his hand deeper into your inner thigh. You try to close your legs, not wanting to invite his fingers in, but he just rests his fingertips on the border of torn jeans, gently brushing it over the sensitiveness of your skin. You gulp, suppressing any reaction. 

— No slashers. Gut. I, too, prefer the real thing. 

Shiver rund down your spine. God, you need to get out of here, not play house with a murderer! A handsome murderer who killed your asshole friends and who was also kinda nice(not killing you, that is) and even saved you from being too hurt and even allowed you on the couch and even…god, you’re a miserable shell of a woman and the greatest speedrunner of the Stockholm syndrome in the world. 

Your body sinks into the couch that smells like a mix between a frat house and a meat fridge. 

He turns on the TV, placing something dumb and loud. You don’t even want to look, but you’re bored, and you don’t want him to think you are letting him off the hook with your observant nature – you look at him, quietly as he intensely watches a…

A familiar melody fills the room. You actually need to wait a few seconds, blink, and then look at the screen again. God, is he fucking serious right n-

You are sitting in the house in the middle of a murder forest, with the dead body of your friend rotting in the basement of said house, you were forced to have sex with the killers of the said friends, and now you’re kidnapped in the said house…and the killer just turned on fucking Encanto for you. 

— It’s popular among girls your age, right? 

You want to say that, among normal college female population, porn would be far more suitable to watch. The guy looks older than you, for sure, mature, with a rugged face and scars and that perfect stubble and touches of silver in his ginger hair, and…shit, you’re dreaming of his rough handsomeness again. Quick, think about your dead friend. 

— I’m not 5. 

— You act like you’re 5. 

— Wh…what do you mean? 

— You left your friends to die, you don’t care that we can hurt you…

— I care that you can hurt me!

— You’re silly, Liebling. A normal person would try to run away three times already. 

— You said you’d break my ankles. 

— I will. Still, you look like you prefer this place more, ja? You can watch dumb shows and eat whatever you want and never worry about…whatever you were doing before. 

— I don’t! I…this is stupid. 

— You’re a bit dumb, Schatzen. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you. 

He smiles as he ruffles your hair again, his hand goes to gently cup your face and cover it with hungry, sloppy kisses. You can’t even focus on the cartoon on the screen because he is basically devouring your lips right now, forcing you to open your mouth and invite him in – you don’t want him to bite you, you are hurt enough without that kind of contribution. You feel dizzy, dehydrated, you are still exhausted, and you’d want nothing more but to close your eyes and allow him to do whatever he wants with your lifeless body. 

You want to roll to the side, hug the pillow, and watch Encanto on pair with some trash TV about housewives killing each other over a garden salad. You don’t want to think about your dead friends because they are dead, you are alive, and your lips are getting crushed as he forces the kiss to be more deep, as he brings his hand to gently squeeze your waist and brush over your back. 

You are flushed by the end of the kiss, König grins sluggishly as you are panting, shocked, excited and a bit overwhelmed. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t even think about biting his tongue off – which sounded a bit stupid right now, yes, he would probably just kill you for trying, but you could at least…you could at least close your lips and don’t allow him to kiss you like an excited puppy who just loves loves loves covering your face with his saliva. 

Like a dig with a boner, König presses wet lips all over your face and head – in your hair, on your temple, gently brushing over your forehead and cheeks, making sure that he traces his lips over every last bit of blood that he left on your skin. He grunts in the kiss, something more like a guttural moan, and you never knew that just the motion of simple, sloppy kisses can make a man so excited – you are scared and just a little bit curious. Just how much he wants to touch his victim. 

König gently places you down on the couch, forcing you to sit straight. He picks up one of the fallen decor pillows and throws it into your hands, allowing you to have something to fidget with. He almost looks guilty, anxious, that barbaric, rugged face is red with embarrassment and sadness as he can’t really do anything nice with you right now, can’t play with you like he wants to. God, König would give up a lot to just fuck you raw on this couch, to forget about your stupid friends and make you their nice little couple addition – but he promised, he knows he is, and you’re too sensitive and overwhelmed to take him like this now. 

König can bet that you’d be so tight he wouldn’t even get a finger in. Breaking you in should feel fucking amazing. 

— Can’t fuck you right now, Schatzi. Promised my tiger we would share you. 

He smiles guilty, boyish, that dumb smile brings heat to your cheeks again. You turn away from him, feeling his hands keeping you in place firmly – but otherwise, he allows you to just watch the movie, getting lost in the plot you saw a couple dozen times. 

You are watching the movie, and König is watching you. 

— You aren’t sad? 

— About what? You can sense a certain level of nervousness in his tone. You lick your lips, hugging the pillow closer to your face so he won’t be able to read your expressions. 

— That we can’t fuck right now. 

— I don’t want to have sex at all. 

— You came stronger than I did. 

— It’s a…ph…physical reaction. I didn’t want it. 

— You don’t sound convinced. 

He is drilling the dangerous thoughts in your head. The desire to just empty your brain and allow them to take the lead, the desire of your mind to simply shut down from all of the horrors you already saw. This is an apathetic stance – you don’t see a point in fighting after you see what they are capable of, and you certainly don’t see the point in ever trying again. Still, you somehow want them to stop, just so you can stop worrying about falling for their trap and stop being a good person who cares for her friends. 

You feel like almost falling asleep, dozing off on the couch – not because you feel safe or warm, but because your body is simply refusing to reach anymore, too exhausted to produce even the most basic self-reservation instincts. König forces your head on his lap, gently stroking your tear-stained face. 

When Horangi returns home with a bloody axe and Jenny, kicking and screaming in his hold, you are fully asleep on König’s lap. 

[starwarsbundle]

The Clone Wars Headcannons they probably deserve; pt. 1/6

And we are back, baby!

With what, I hear you ask? Why, THE CHAOTIC SHENANIGANS OF COURSE. Since ya’ll loved my Bad Batch Headcannons so much, now it’s finally time for the Clone Wars!

And who better to start out with than our sad-sassy-b1tch(tm), Obi Wan Kenobi?

(Also if you haven’t simped for this man at SOME point, you’re lying to yourself.)

Obi Wan is the kind of guy who is secretly ripped but no one realizes it - and that’s primarily because he always wears so many layers that he just comes across as soft. It was discovered at some point when he for some reason decided to spar shirtless, and every single Jedi who’d thought he was basically just a soft dad has gone 0_0 - until someone basically has to throw a robe over him like the Birth of Venus to keep everyone from melting in awe.

Drinks caf to live. Even in the low moments of the war, this man is a walking talking stress-bag, who DOESN’T get enough sleep - to the point where Cody has to basically file a restraining order on his General to force him to nap.

Fight flirts and Serious flirts. We all know Kenobi is the biggest sassiest flirt on the face of the earth, but here’s the thing - there’s two different types of flirt he uses, playful-I’m-not-actually-interested-in-you-romantically and seriously-can-you-take-me-on-a-date-or-marry-me-PLS. Cody and Satine mostly get the latter, but it is SO hard to tell the difference to the point where nobody knows whether to take it seriously or not. (Poor Cody takes it seriously)

FUN FACT: Rex is the only one who can tell the difference, and has been trying to help Cody figure it out for a while - with no success.

Is not the serious and sensible one of the Disaster Trio. Oh boy NO. He only looks sensible compared to Anakin - but away from him is basically the biggest disaster and danger magnet EVER SEEN. (Where do you think Anakin-dramatic-ass-Skywalker got it from, hm??)

Has great personal hygiene. Always smells like soft, sweet soap.

Is physically incapable of giving hugs (is touch starved(tm)) but would melt like butter in a hot pan into a hug. Might even cry a little too - he’s only held together by sass, stress, and caf, okay?

Is pedantic about having his robes ironed. He tried to drum this habit into Anakin - with many sighs and no success.

Absolutely has used his Disappointed(tm) Voice on everyone at some point. Cody has picked up on this voice and uses it on Anakin frequently.

Reads romance novels. Take this as you will.

Gimme Gimme Gimme A Man (After Midnight) by ABBA is absolutely his JAM. (Also if you haven’t listened to this song and thought of Kenobi, where’ve you been?)

Has a sweet tooth - and unfortunately no time to indulge it.

Obi Wan Kenobi… I swear everyone new to the SW fandom is like “no I will not simp for this man”, and then has the biggest Obi Wan simp phase ever.

[buffetlicious]

Was out shopping at Don Don Donki and spotted this Nissin Cup Noodles Potato Chips - Black Pepper Crab (黑胡椒螃蟹). I know I have seen this flavour in cup noodles form but not in potato chips. Cutting open the bag, the V-cut chips doesn’t look impressive at all with oil stains on the potato chips. Although there doesn’t seem to be much black pepper, it does pack in some spicy heat but with barely any crab flavour, let alone any umaminess. I think I will just stick to the noodles in the future.

The other snack that I gotten was this Morinaga Bake Creamy Cheese which looks pretty yummy to me. If I am not mistaken, this item is sold exclusively in Don Don Donki. Sealed inside are ten small blocks of cheesecake-like snack. There is a cheese layer comprising of three kinds of cheese – 34% camembert, 45% cream and 6% mascarpone cheese. There is also a white chocolate layer sandwiched between two baked layers. Popping one into the mouth, the strong cheese flavour is evident, followed by the creaminess and then the saccharine sweetness hit you. Both me and mum think that it is far too cloying for casual snacking.

[perfectsunlight]

[02] ARE YOU PROUD OF ME?

warnings: none

the soft makeup sponge gently tapped against jennie’s skin. her eyes remained shut, doing her best to stay awake at this hour of the morning. two other stylists worked on her hair while the makeup artist shuffled around her face, applying the final touches before her own busy day began.

vogue photoshoot at noon, elle interview at 3:00, and then her flight to paris at 6:00.

she mentally went over her itinerary for the day, her mind focused on the professional obligations ahead, each task meticulously planned to maintain her public persona. despite the flurry of activity around her, jennie's thoughts kept returning to the great idea of her simply canceling on everyone and spending her entire day in bed with her dogs.

the soft hum of the television in the background barely registered for her until she heard a sound she’d never imagined hearing from a tv. 

“i’m ivory!”

her eyes snapped open just in time to see her daughter’s face flash across the screen through the reflection in the vanity mirror in front of her. 

the makeup artist paused, sensing the shift in jennie's demeanor, but said nothing, allowing her a moment of privacy amidst the bustling preparation. 

jane ivory. my ivory.

jennie whispered her daughter’s name over and over again in her mind. it was only a few seconds of an advertisement for their group’s debut, but all she could do was replay the moments of ivory’s face in her mind. as the segment on le sserafim ended, her emotions swirled—a mixture of pride, regret, and an overwhelming sense of loss. 

her daughter’s radiant smile on the screen pierced through the layers of professional composure that jennie kim had carefully cultivated over the years. she blinked back tears, unable to tear her gaze away from the mirror in front of her.

the little girl she left behind was now an adult. 

“did something get in your eye?” her makeup artist asked gently, trying not to dig too deep into the idols emotions.

she took a deep breath, trying to compose herself as she wrestled with the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. the makeup artist's gentle inquiry broke through the silence, but jennie couldn't bring herself to respond immediately.

“just a moment,” she managed to say, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. she reached for a tissue, dabbing at her eyes discreetly as she fought to regain her composure. the weight of years of absence bore down on her shoulders, a burden she had carried silently for too long.

as she looked at her own reflection, the woman saw traces of the person she had become—a successful idol, a fashion icon, and a global star. 

but beneath the carefully curated image lay the ache of a mother who had missed out on so much. 

the television continued to play in the background, the sound of a local pizza ad replacing the sweet tone of her daughter’s voice just moments ago. jennie closed her eyes briefly, willing herself to stay strong. she had grown accustomed to wearing masks—both on stage and in her personal life—but at this moment, those masks threatened to crumble.

“it was just an eyelash,” she finally replied, her voice steadier as she met the makeup artist's gaze. “please continue.” with a subtle nod, she signaled for the preparations to continue, silently resolving to confront the emotions that had been stirred awake.

throughout the rest of the day—through the photoshoot, the interviews, and the flight to paris—jennie couldn't shake the memory of her baby girl’s smile. the emptiness of the private cabin offered her a rare moment of solitude, where she allowed herself to feel the weight of regret and longing.

she scrolled through her jane’s debut photos, her heart aching with a mixture of pride and sorrow as she scrolled through ivory's debut photos on her phone. each image captured her daughter's radiant presence, the same smile jennie had seen earlier on the screen. tears blurred her vision as she traced the familiar contours of the young girl’s face with her fingertip.

alone with her thoughts and the distant city lights below, jennie wept for the daughter she had been absent from, and for the years lost to ambition and fame. 

previous | masterlist | next

TAGLIST ⸺ ✶ @silantryoo

OPEN! COMMENT BELOW THE MASTERLIST TO BE ADDED.

[vanyatas]

Your Jeff and Toby Hcs are amazing!! Could you write some for Homicidal Liu?? Would love to read how you portrait him!! :D

HELLO ANON ID LOVEEE TO DO THIS!! I’m so sorry if they’re a bit short, i haven’t seen much of him in so long but he used to be one of my favs 😭

HOMICIDAL LIU HCS:

GENERAL HCS:

6’2.

Reserved, Very polite when he’s fronting, I see him being very shy.

Punk/Grunge music all the way.

Something about him not enjoying old gen emo music because of Jeff sticks with me.

He doesn’t entirely hate Jeff, I just know he is holding onto things from his brother seriously fucking him up.

DID, PTSD, & Anxiety

When Sully takes over he probably doesn’t remember anything Sully does or says at all.

Nirvana, Nine Inch Nails, Soundgarden, Alice In Chains, Foo Fighters, Radiohead, Green Day, Pixies, Pearl Jam, Screaming Trees, Stone Temple Pilots, The Distillers, Dead Kennedys, Circle Jerks (😭) ethusiast!

Scratches at his neck when he gets anxious.

Keeps his hair layered cut, short brown hair!

Kind of scene hair, he doesn’t like to think of it like that, it’s just the layers man.

Heterochromia, Brown and green!!

Liu is a complete angel when he’s is fronting, i like to think he’s very kind and sweet to everyone he’s friends with.

6 Years older than Jeff.

Sully does not like Jeff whatsoever.

ROMANTIC HCS:

He is such a gentleman compared to Sully pls 😭.

Offers you his jacket if you’re cold.

Brushes the hair out of your face.

WILL Stare at your features for hours on end.

He would be SO in love with you.

Even if he doesn’t hate Jeff, I personally think he wouldn’t want you around him too much.

Sully agrees with this 100%.

ACTUALLY he would probably make sure you weren’t anywhere in a 10 foot radius of that emo freak.

Sully likes you just as much as.

He might not be as sweet and romantic but he makes it his goal to make you feel loved in some way.

Liu will lay his head in your lap.

He will also come to you whenever he feels as if everything is getting to him too much.

Brushes your hair up with his hand so he can kiss your forehead.

hello gang i’m so sorry if i interpreted this so strange.. i haven’t written for liu/sully EVER, feel free to let me know if i did something WRONG, BUT HERE YOU GUYS GO!!!

[yanderejustforyou]

Day 6 - Blanket Fort || Fluffy Pillows, Movies, and Snacks

Pairing: Yandere Peter Parker x Reader Genre: Dark Romance

Short and Sweet

The blanket fort enveloped you in its embrace, a tapestry of comfort woven with nostalgia that tugged at the corners of your heart. Its cozy atmosphere radiated a childlike charm—remnants of childhood dreams spun anew. String lights, draped haphazardly, cast a warm and inviting glow that danced across the fabric walls, illuminating the makeshift haven with a tender luminescence. Fluffy, oversized pillows littered the floor, creating a soft landing for both your thoughts and your body. In easy reach, a stack of snacks sat invitingly, ready to feed both hunger and the spirit of this whimsical retreat. You couldn’t help but acknowledge that Peter had truly outdone himself. His talent for finding joy in the little things was infectious, infusing the air around you with a buoyant energy; still, it was his intense, unwavering gaze that held you captivated—his eyes, like twin beacons, rarely straying from your face.

As your hand moved toward a bag of popcorn, drawn by the salty aroma, Peter’s hand shot out reflexively, intercepting yours with surprising speed. A grin bloomed on his face, full of that boyish charm that had always made your heart flutter, and for a moment, you were torn between the sweetness of the moment and a looming sense of unease that crept along your spine.

“Let me,” he said, his voice dripping with a softness that felt almost indecent in its intimacy. He deftly plucked a kernel from the bag, elevating it as if it were a sacred offering. “Say ‘ah.’”

Your heart raced, caught in the web of uncertainty his request spun. While there was no malice in the depths of his gaze, there was something considerably and unsettlingly deeper—a quiet, relentless obsession that seemed to thrum beneath the surface of his otherwise playful demeanor. Hesitant yet compelled, you parted your lips slightly, yielding to the moment. He brought the popcorn to your mouth, and as it rolled onto your tongue, his fingers lingered against your lips just a heartbeat too long, the warmth of his touch sparking a dissonance within you.

“That’s better,” he murmured, his body sinking back into the plush pillows, yet he anchored your hand in his, refusing to release you. “You don’t need to do anything. I’ll take care of you.”

The movie flickering on the laptop served as mere background noise, its plot dissolving into a blur as the weight of the blanket fort settled more heavily around you. Every shift you attempted to make was met with a firm grip from Peter, his fingers tightening around yours just so—an unspoken message to stay still. His thumb traced absent patterns along your palm, each stroke inching closer to a boundary you weren't sure existed anymore.

“I’ve been thinking,” Peter began, his tone deceptively casual, yet layered with the strange intensity that had become familiar. “It’s so nice, just the two of us. No distractions. No one trying to take you away.”

A twist of apprehension curled in your stomach. The walls of the blanket fort felt increasingly oppressive, closing in on you, making it hard to breathe. You forced a smile, a mask to conceal how wrong this all felt, yet Peter’s grip hardened around your hand, transforming from a gentle hold to something more possessive.

“I mean it,” he said, his gaze impenetrable and locked onto yours like a predator having found its prey. “You don’t need anyone else. Just me. Forever.”

As the word ‘forever’ echoed in your mind, the cozy haven that had once felt like a sanctuary began to transform into a prison, every flickering light casting shadows that whispered of entrapment rather than intimacy. The charm of childhood faded away, leaving only a chilling realization: even here, within this fortress of cushions and dreams, you might not be as safe as you once believed.

[cosmerelists]

Rosharans Rate Foods Not Native to their Planet

As requested by @makothedorito :)

@makothedorito wanted to know what would happen if Stormlight characters encountered food not native to their planet. Here's what I think!

1. Szeth reviews Mountain Dew

Szeth: Horrible. Szeth: A bright, unconscionable green color. Sickly, horribly sweet. Like acidic poison in my throat. Szeth: Also made me feel, strangely, as though even without powers, I could fly. Szeth: ... Szeth: 3/5 stars.

2. Lift reviews Mountain Dew

Lift: Actually,SzethonlytooklikeonesipbeforeItookitfromhim. Lift: IsawthecrazylookhewasgettinginhiseyesandIwaslikenosir. Lift: Luckily,IdrankthewholebottleandI'mnotbeingaffectedatall! Wyndle: [crying]: Mistress, PLEASE use Regrowth I think you're dying!

3. Shallan reviews chocolate

Shallan: Oh, 5/5 for sure! Shallan: Radiant likes the dark chocolate because the "bitterness adds to the sweetness," apparently. Shallan: Veil likes milk chocolate coating other things--so like sugar with another, harder layer of sugar. Shallan: I gotta say--I like the bars! Something about being able to crack off pieces and eat them is so satisfying. Adolin: So the 19 wrappers I see around our room... Shallan: Head's up, I may never sleep again!

4. Rushu reviews coffee

Rushu: My research indicated that this drink is supposed to make you alert and eager for action! Rushu: But...my thoughts have never BEEN so sedate. Honestly, I could take a nap right now. Rushu: Odd. Rushu: 4/5, I suppose.

5. Nomad reviews hot 'n' spicy wings

Nomad: [a single tear running down his face] Nomad: Finally...some good fucking food...

6. Renarin reviews steak

Renarin: You would think that "well done" is the opposite of "badly done" but Renarin: ... Renarin: I suppose I know what it is like to eat leather.

7. Bridge Four reviews pizza

Lopen: Man, it's great! Look at this one--so thin and droopy you have to roll it up to eat it! Rock: What is your insanity? This one that is so thick you must cut into it with a large knife is the way to go. I want my pizza to be as deep as my fist. Lopen: Thin is better!! Rock: Thick is superior!! Skar: I can't say why, but I'm partial to the one cut into squares. Really crackling crust, too. It just feels right, somehow... Rock: Skar, friend, I respect your opinion even though it is 100% wrong. Kaladin: Isn't all pizza just a tad...greasy? Lopen: Ha ha! You say such weird things somethings, Kaladin! Lyn: Ooooh....this one with ham and the sweet yellow fruit is AMAZING! Best pizza of all time hello?? Lopen: ... Rock: ... Skar: ... Kaladin: ... Lopen: I can't believe we have to kick Lyn out of Bridge Four. Lyn: HEY

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Under the Mistletoe

John “Bravo-6” Price x reader

Warnings: fluffy little Christmas special

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, happy holidays 💜

Word Count: 1k

Masterlist https://www.tumblr.com/midnight-shadow-cafe/764209536727957504/key

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

Snow fell gently outside the window, a quiet rhythm against the frosted panes. The world beyond was cloaked in a pristine white blanket, the occasional flicker of Christmas lights from neighboring homes casting colorful reflections on the icy streets. Inside, the warmth of the house was a perfect contrast to the winter chill, and the scent of pine mingled with the inviting aroma of cinnamon and fresh-baked cookies.

Soft holiday music drifted from the old record player in the corner, its crackling notes adding a nostalgic charm to the scene. John Price leaned casually against the doorframe, his rugged frame silhouetted by the soft glow of the twinkling Christmas tree lights. His sharp blue eyes held a glimmer of amusement as he watched his wife adjust a shimmering silver ribbon for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“Love, it looks perfect already,” he said, his deep voice tinged with warmth and a hint of teasing.

You turned to him, tinsel in one hand and a determined expression on your face. “Perfect? It’s missing something. I just can’t figure out what.”

John’s boots thudded softly against the polished wooden floor as he crossed the room. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the evergreen aroma as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, his touch firm yet comforting. “You’ve been at it for an hour, darling. Maybe it’s time for a break?”

You sighed, the tension in your shoulders easing as you leaned back against him. Your head rested naturally on his broad shoulder, and the soft knit of his sweater brushed against your cheek. “Maybe you’re right. But this is our first Christmas as husband and wife. I want it to be…” You gestured vaguely toward the tree. “You know, special.”

John’s lips pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his beard tickling your skin in a way that made you smile despite yourself. “It’s already special. We’ve got each other, don’t we? That’s all that matters.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and a warm flush spread through you. Turning in his arms, you gazed up at him with a playful smile. “You’re too good at this, you know? Saying just the right thing to make me melt.”

He chuckled, the sound rich and full, his chest rumbling against yours. “It’s a gift,” he replied with a wink.

The two of you moved to the couch, its plush cushions inviting after hours of decorating. A soft throw blanket was draped over the back, and John settled in first, patting the spot beside him. You joined him, and he reached for the steaming mugs of hot chocolate sitting on the coffee table. The marshmallows on top had begun to melt, forming a creamy layer that promised sweetness with every sip.

“Cheers, darling. To our first Christmas together,” he said, holding out his mug.

“Cheers,” you echoed, clinking your mug gently against his. The warmth of the drink seeped through your fingers as you took a sip, the rich chocolate flavor paired perfectly with the hint of spice from a sprinkle of cinnamon.

For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the crackling fire in the hearth providing a soothing soundtrack. The room was bathed in a soft orange glow, and the twinkle lights on the tree reflected in the ornaments, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the walls. You could hear the occasional pop of the logs as the fire consumed them, the sound a reminder of the cozy haven you’d created together.

“Got you something,” John said suddenly, his voice breaking the peaceful quiet. His hand disappeared into the pocket of his sweater as he leaned slightly toward you.

You looked at him curiously, setting your mug down on the table. “John, we said no gifts until tomorrow morning.”

“Couldn’t wait,” he admitted with a sheepish grin, his expression softening as he produced a small velvet box.

Your breath caught as you took the box from him, your fingers brushing against his in the exchange. Inside was a delicate gold bracelet, its charm a tiny tree etched with intricate detail. You traced the design with your finger, your eyes growing misty as emotion welled up inside you.

“John… it’s beautiful,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crackling fire.

“Thought it might be nice to have something you could wear every day,” he said, his tone gentle. “A little reminder of us.”

Tears threatened to spill, but you blinked them away, overwhelmed by the love and thoughtfulness in his gesture. Leaning in, you kissed him softly, your lips brushing against his in a moment of shared warmth. “I love it. And I love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours for a brief, tender moment.

The evening unfolded in a series of shared joys: laughter over stories from past Christmases, playful teasing during a few rounds of board games, and the occasional pause to enjoy another sip of hot chocolate. John’s competitive streak emerged as he insisted on a rematch when he lost, his gruff protests only adding to your amusement.

When the clock struck midnight, the two of you found yourselves standing beneath the mistletoe hanging in the doorway. The tiny green leaves and bright red berries framed the moment perfectly.

“Merry Christmas, love,” John said, his voice low and full of affection as he pulled you close.

“Merry Christmas, John,” you whispered back, your words a promise as his lips captured yours. The kiss was slow and unhurried, filled with a warmth and tenderness that seemed to make the world fade away. In that moment, wrapped in his arms, you knew this Christmas would be one to remember forever.