#Shitty writing

[diorchids]

C'MON, IT'S JUST THE TIP! w/ luke castellan .

it's your first time and your dear boyfriend promised to only put the tip in. (told ya.)

“just the tip, baby, i promise,” he coos, holding your chin, “i promise.” he carefully slips the tip into your cunt, sucking air in through his teeth. 

“‘s keep it there, lukey. don’t move,” your voice soft and breathy. you hold onto the base, softly stroking him as he slowly rocks back and forth. this is enough for you. you can barely take his fingers, so you know you won’t be able to take him fully. this is fine.

but why would it be enough for him? sure, it feels good, but he’s hungry. 

can you blame him?

you’re so focused trying to please you and your dear boyfriend that you don’t notice him spitting on your already wet folds. his arm flexes as he leans down to grab onto your waist, getting a good grip before slamming his cock into your tight cunt. he releases a bestial groan, throwing his head back as he bottoms out. 

you cry out loud, feeling your pure, tight, soft pussy being broken in, just like that. “l-luke! you—it hurts!” 

“shhh, baby, you can take it, yeah? thought you were a big girl?” he whispers, pulling back slowly. you whimper as he withdraws, your tiny body trying to suck him back in. he spits again, using it to lube his length. he spreads your legs wider, lifting your hips higher. you whimper and pout, looking for an ounce of sympathy from him. but… nothing. “b-baby, you said just the tip!”

you see his cock stiffen more as he prepares to push back into you. “i lied,” he mutters, slamming back into you. you howl, trying to push him out. “damn, you're tight,” he growls. he pulls back, then slaps, thrusting deeper. he grips your thighs, spreading your legs wider apart. “been keepin’ this from me for this long? tsk, tsk.” he smiles, clearly enjoying the pain you’re in.

he watches you throw your head back, tears spilling over. you’re barely taking an inch. can’t you calm down? he pulls back slightly, then slams again. “damn it,” he mutters. “spread your legs more,” he orders. 

as he thrusts, your breasts bounce beautifully, but you’re so cock-drunk you can barely speak. you babble, he destroys your walls. you babble, he fucks harder into you. it hurts. too badly. he knows this, but he doesn’t care. why would he? he’s finally getting what you’ve held off for years.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” luke chanted, pounding into you like a jackhammer. your fingers curl, your toes curl, your whole body is curled in on itself as he fucks you into the mattress. he reaches between your legs, rubbing your clit in tight circles as he fucks you. this only worsens your already vegetative state, causing your thighs to tremble. he takes a hand off your thigh to hold on to your neck, softly gripping it as he fucks into you. 

how pretty you are, how delicate and beautiful you are.

“god, you sound so good,” he chuckles darkly, his fingers digging bruises into your thighs as he holds them apart. he hits something inside you, and you both feel it. he hits it repeatedly, each time making you whine louder.

but slowly, you come back to yourself. finally beginning to enjoy it. look at you. coming to your senses. 

"shit..." he notices the shift in your screams, from pain to pleasure. his pace slows slightly, but the intensity remains. he leans down, nipping at your ear. “ finally taking that dick like you’re s’posed to," he whispers, hitting that spot inside you with purpose now. 

"that's right, baby. take it. fuck, you feel so good," he smiles, licking his lips perversely, gripping your hips tightly. "touch your tits for me," he orders, his voice rough with pleasure. "play with them while i fuck you."

you look up at him through teary eyes, unintentionally batting your eyelashes so beautifully. “fuck, okay,” blood pricks on your bottom lip as you bite down, smiling at your beautiful boy.

your fingers catch your shared juices at the base of his cock, you take it and rub it into your chest, squeezing and pulling your breasts. “so good, m’gonna…”

PLAP, PLAP, PLAP.

"gonna what, baby?" he smirks, knowing exactly what you're trying to say. "cum for me? cum all over my big dick?" he reaches down and pinches your clit hard, sending you over the edge. "cum, baby."

PLAP, PLAP, PLAP.

that’s it, there you go, hm? you spasm and thrash when you cum harshly, cunt restricting around his length, more than it already is. it chokes him like it’s pulling the cum out of him.

he feels your pussy clamp down on him like a vice as you cum, the sensation pushing him over the edge. "fuck, babe! just fuckin’ take it!" he groans, slamming into you as he unleashes a warm load deep inside your cum-drunk pussy. 

PLAP.

he fucks his cum into you, knowing neither of you cares for a baby. “take it.”

…aaand after that, you never wanna take “just the tip” again. 

even when you’re both all tired, you still cockwarm. fully.

here u go! @giaaaarosaaaa ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

[aziraphales-human-twin]

One of the worst things about s4 is how Five saw his wife Dolores, the love of his life, and had no reaction. She was clearly on screen. He didn’t even acknowledge her existence. A Five that doesn’t adore Dolores isn’t a Five I want to know

[yunirgo]

steve harrington isn’t good with words, that’s why his love languages are physical touch and acts of service. but once every blue moon he builds up the courage to send you a very detailed message telling you about how much he is in love with you.

he says his hands were made for you. to hold your face and kiss it, to warm your hands when they’re cold, to fight whoever tries to hurt you, to hug you and cup your head against his chest so you can listen to his heart beat for you, and to hold your heart close to his.

he tells you about the things he dreams of for your future together, how he wants nothing more than to wake up beside you every morning and stare at you for hours. he wants to see the peaceful and slow breaths you take as you sleep beside him. there’s just something about it that makes his heart ache uncontrollably in the best way possible. steve firmly believes you have to really trust someone to sleep around them. when you do fall asleep when you’re with him, his heart feels like exploding because it means you feel safe; he wants to prove you’re right every day.

he worships you, says in his tear-inducing text that he wants to give you whatever you want for as long as he’s alive and breathing. he just wants to see you smiling always, he can’t bear the thought of you feeling anything else that isn’t happiness. he tells you how every time you look at him with those beautiful eyes you were blessed with, he feels like you give him a million years more of life, but also take them away, because your beauty is just breathtaking.

steve wants to share everything with you, tears, laughter, fights, memories, even saliva, but not in the way you’re thinking (although he’s not opposed to it at all). he wants to cook and bake with you, and try whatever you two make together after blowing on it to make sure it’s warm enough to eat. he wants to eat from your utensils and drink from your straws, anything to get as many kisses from you even if they’re indirect ones.

he sends the message at the worst time possible too, between 2 and 4 in the morning, when he knows you’re either sleeping and will read it when you wake up, or when you’re just about to go to sleep.

steve harrington isn’t good with words, but when he uses them, there’s no doubt in your mind that you are loved by the most beautiful and genuine heart and soul.

-

sorry for the shitty writing, but i had to share my lover boy steve thoughts with you guys😔

[d3vvdgvrll]

i don’t care what men say about me because animals love me and children fall asleep in my arms . they don’t know what it takes to have a heart so full of love it hurts.

[mooniema]

Can you pleaseee do something with Sae-byeok or Se-mi x barista reader?

Se-mi x reader - hot chocolate with marshmallows

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

pairing ; Se-mi x barista reader

summary ; on a saturday morning, while you were working as a barista, a stunning woman comes in and you accidently mess up her order

warnings ; shitty writing and she might be a little ooc idk, might delete it later if i get too embarrassed

words:

a/n ; this is my first request so i hope yall like it, I might write the one for Sae-byeok too or/and maybe make a second part on this if its wanted

Men dni

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

It was a particularly busy Saturday morning and you were at your new job in a café as a barista. It was your third day at work and you still had to bring a routine in doing your. Even though it was stressful and gave you even less free time, you know that you can't mess up, because you need the money to pay at least a part of your college fees, since your family isn't rich enough to pay everything alone.

So now you are here, serving customers during rush hour with a headache from all the noise and a smile on your face so you seem friendly enough.

When you had a moment of peace you started zooning out, looking out of the window to see the mist surrounding everything. No wonder people were rushing in, just looking outside made you feel cold.

A smooth voice interrupted your thoughts. "Hi, I´d like to order something" You quickly looked to see who was talking to you and you saw her. A short haired woman with piercings on nose and lips, which add to her beauty. She has a faint smirk on her face, studying you with her dark eyes and you can´t help, but feel small under her gaze. You quickly stopped staring at this intimidating woman and put on your customer smile. "Oh hi! Of course, what can I get for you?" "A caramel macchiato, please." You nod and point at a table. "Sit down on the table, while I make your order please"

You watch as the woman nods and goes over to the table, sits down and starts looking at her phone. Then you go to make her order and while doing so, your female coworker bumps into you and you land on the ground. "Omg, I'm so sorry!" The girl kneels down, quickly helping you up. "Can you do me a favor and make some orders for me? The guests there next to the door want one hot chocolate, one latte macchiato and two black coffees. Thank you!" You stare perplex as she rushes away through the backdoor to the 'employees only' area and sigh, feeling frustrated at her leaving you with even more work. You look over to the pretty customer from before, who seems occupied with her phone and you lean on the counter trying to remember what she ordered. Fuck, what did she order again? You think to yourself. You go through all the orders you remembered in your thoughts, before settling on hot chocolate. I'm pretty sure, it was hot chocolate... She probably wants to warm up from the cold. Maybe I should ask her again? You quickly shake your head at that. No way, I'm new at this job and this would just show, how unorganised I still am and she looks like she could bite my head off... I'll just make her hot chocolate and if its the wrong order, I'll make her the right order and pay for it and pray that my boss isn't watching.

You start making the hot chocolate and and after a bit you place some marshmallows in it and go to the counter with the cup in your hand, calling the intimidating girl over. You watch as the girl approaches with a nervous feeling in your stomach from not knowing if you messed her order up, but you try to keep your friendly smile. You hand over the hot chocolate. "Here is your order!" You watch as she takes it into her hands, decorated with silver rings and you notice her confused look. "Is everything okay?" "Uh yea, but that's not what I ordered... I ordered a caramel macchiato" You start to feel your cheeks redden from embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I'll go and make you a new drink" You reach out to get the drink, but instead of giving you it, she takes a sip. "No need to, I'll keep the hot chocolate" You try to insist on making her a new drink, but she just chuckles. "But Miss-, you don't have to drink that..." "No need to call me Miss... My name is Se-mi and instead of apologizing, just make it up to me by texting me later" She quickly scribbles her phone number on a napkin and hands it over to you with the money for the hot chocolate and then walks away, while you stare at her with a flushed and surprised expression. "Bye sweetheart and don't forget to text me!"

I'm so sorry, that this is so bad written and short, but I'm kinda stressed, because of school right now and I kinda rushed this. I might delete this later and maybe rewrite it, if I get inspiration.

[barrackspredator]

sugar service

cw: didn’t proof read this, cussing, writing practice. best of luck.

“Hot damn!”

“Smash, smash, smash, uh… yeah, him too. Smash.”

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh as the other waitresses eyed your table. The three of you were waiting at the hostess post on a particularly slow day. The only customers was your table of four. Some older guys your friends just couldn’t seem to get enough of.

“Please,” you mumbled. “They’re old enough to be our dads.” Your eyes flicked up from the magazine in your hands to your coworkers. The three girls were giggling and occasionally glancing over their shoulders.

“Yeah, that's the best part!” Your coworker, Rona replied before glancing back again. “Older guys are experienced and typically have pretty big… savings.” She grinned at you, her eyes narrowing coyly.

“God-!” you scoffed, choking down your surprised guffaw. “You guys are unbelievable.”

Ignoring their giggles and teasing, you push yourself off of the wall you were leaning against to approach your table. Your eyes roamed over the four men, taking in how their shirts clung perfectly to their muscles. A few gray hairs here and there, but their physiques certainly made up for their age.

Caught up in your ogling, you slammed your hip into the corner of their table. The oldest of the men quickly grabbed the edge of the table to steady it.

“Fuck…” Your hand immediately slapped over your mouth in shock, remembering that you were in front of customers. The men chuckled, eyeing each other before turning back to look at you.

“Careful there, sweetheart. Can’t ’ave a pretty little thing like you bruising up,” one of the men, a particularly dashing man with a mohawk, chastised you. His eyes scanned yours before slowly raking down your form.

Letting out a shaky sigh of relief that they were cool and not some uptight old asses, you smiled. A genuine smile, not the customer service lip curl you were so used to doing. “I would like to apologize for that, gentlemen.” After a few seconds, you quickly added, “Please don’t tell my manager.”

With languid waves and laughs, they shook their heads and sipped their beverages in amusement. “There ain’t anything to tell.” A man with a scarred face stared, boring his eyes into you. He seemed to be deep in thought before giving his head a slight nod—something the other men quickly noted.

“Thank you.” You took a deep breath now that the anxiety of possibly losing this shitty job passed. “Is there anything I can get you, gentlemen? Drinks, dessert?”

“Your number?” He looked at you expectantly, a handsome man. The youngest of the bunch, no doubt.

Dealing with flirty old customers was a piece of cake. It’s what got the tips going. But typically they were vile old men you would never touch with a 10-foot pole. These guys were quite palatable. Very palatable.

“Well,” you laughed nervously. Perhaps Rona had a point. These men had a way of making a girl’s tummy flutter like it never has before. “Unfortunately, I can’t give you that, sir.”

“Kyle.”

“Pardon?” You blinked at him, furrowing your brows.

“Call me Kyle.” Another dashing smile sent butterflies thrashing in your belly.

“None of that sir shit. Makes us feel too damn old.” The men grumbled with bitter chuckles. “Johnny.” The man with the mohawk dismissively pat your hip, gripping the tender flesh of your forming bruise. “That old sap is John. And the brooding fella is Simon.”

“Piss off,” Simon grumbled, certainly living up to the broody title.

An amused giggle shook her shoulders, your hand subconsciously resting over Johnny’s. “It’s lovely meeting you all. So how about that dessert?” You inquired, grabbing the paper centerfold that listed off the desserts of the weeks. “The chocolate chunk brownies are pretty good and the cheesecake here is lovely paired with...”

The men rose from their table, completely ignoring your rambles. “That won’t be needed, love.” John’s hand rested on your shoulder, perhaps a bit too close to your chest.

“You give us a call when you’re ready.” Johnny stood beside you, his breath flicking against the shell of your ear. His hot, tipsy breath made you shiver and recoil.

Kyle only chuckled, gracefully slipping a business card into your pocket. “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be working.” There it was again. That dashing smile that turned your knees into jelly.

“Give us a call.” Simon grumbled from the table. Glancing at him, you noticed the thick wad of cash he was leaving behind on the table.

“Sir, that’s too much.”

“Enjoy your tip.” Johnny pat your hip dismissively, sauntering away shortly after. John and Kyle followed behind him.

In complete disbelief, you nervously laughed. “Holy shit…” You shakily picked up the wad of cash left behind on the table. Simon quietly stood behind you, casting his shadow over your body. His eyes slowly raked down your back.

“See you ‘round,” he mumbled, not surprised as you jumped out of your skin in shock at his presence. Moments later, he was out of the place, nothing left but an empty establishment.

With shaky fingers, you plucked the business card out of your pocket.

Sugar Service Call (555)141-6157

[quaint-quill]

A jester long past

Haunted by a responsibly

Made for a lord

No longer does he

Joke and dance

Instead

Flooded in Anguish

For his king

Titled

The Black Lord

Edit:

Tis an hour later

Happy I was not

Of the original product

Thus leading me

To rework it

Perhaps

It looks better

Or worse

Who knows

For I am often never happy

With a piece

[arkham-kn1ght]

At 15:43 of the 23rd of August, The Joker died; killed in broad daylight.

The Joker, who had been haunting Gotham City for years, terrorizing her citizens and killing myriads, was shot by a civilian — a mother.

In the busy avenue that connected the more civilized district to the filth of the city — Crime Alley — the rogue had made his appearance. People screamed, ran, shoving one another out of the way so they could escape faster.

A little girl, however, did not move, frozen in fear. The people passing by saw her and already grieved — she must have been six years old, that poor soul, rest in peace — nobody tried to save her.

The Joker was laughing amidst the chaos, talking and talking and talking because he couldn't care less that this was something inhumane and- a shot, a scream louder than anyone else's, echoed in the avenue.

And then another, and another and another — and the screaming never stopped, loud and angry and desperate; the vicious rage of a mother.

There was a red hole gaping in Joker's chest.

The monster fell, and the beast — the angel — that killed him ran ahead to her most precious, uncaring of the rapidly cooling body.

A mother, sobbing, held her daughter in her arms, her ear over her baby's heartbeat; she was alive and the Joker was dead.

From a distance, a boy — a teen, he wasn't even in his twenties — watched the scene. He, too paralyzed by fear to move (and oh god his bones ached and his fingers twisted and there was blood dripping and he was screaming for Bruce, please Dad! Please-!), watched it all happen.

A mother was hugging her kid; she got there in time, she slayed the monster for her.

A hand instinctively came up to brush against the side of his neck, the raised bumps of scarred skin welcoming his calloused fingers.

He walked away, too many what-ifs scattering around his already too damaged brain.

[violet-yimlat]

I hate to pull this card but

Pulls out a deck of cards from various sources and draws the tarot card, The Tower.

Oops. Wrong card.

Draws the Cards Against Humanity card reading “A hummingbird drinking nectar out of my urethra”.

I do hate to pull that card too but it wasn’t what I was looking for- ah! Here it is!

Draws a card reading “If this post can get 5000 notes within the next week I will continue writing my terrible, stupid book”.

Btw part two is in the reblogs of this post.

Preview under the cut.

Prologue

You might have heard the urban legend. It goes like this; someone is walking along a street. They’re always pretty much alone, perhaps with the exception of maybe a pet dog, a conveniently non-verbal companion, when they hear sounds of a pretty intense struggle in an alley. So they go to check it out, but nobody is ever there.

Although sometimes, there’s a little pool of blood or a few feathers.

Mostly this is dismissed as a hallucination, or birds fighting, but the amount of blood and the size of the feathers makes it hard to believe.

And the voices. Most people report hearing arguing. But wherever in the world the story takes place, nobody can understand the language spoken by the fighters. The reports are fairly consistent. The language is described as “mellifluous” and “ethereal”, and there are always multiple people speaking it. Or at least shouting in it, but it is generally agreed upon that they are angry.

But there is always another voice, speaking a different, but still incomprehensible, language. He, for in the stories it’s always a he, sounds defiant and cocky, speaking in a harsher, less musical tongue, unless, of course, you count black metal. Some especially astute listeners have picked up words and sentences used by the lone, defiant individual and the angry group, coming to the conclusion that they seem to be speaking different dialects of the same language.

And another thing; birds don’t generally use weapons. One witness said that they heard what sounded like a fencing match or duel before they turned the corner.

There are so many witnesses that they should probably make a discord server.

Now we come to the theories. We have the rational explanation as mentioned previously; birds.

We have the “Time travelling fight club” theory.

We have the “That one alien spaceship where they keep having to get out because that one alien speaking another dialect keeps picking fights and they always threaten to maroon him on Earth but they never do” theory.

There’s the “Mothman vs other Mothman” theory and the “Crazy global cult who’s leader travels from place to place to perform blood sacrifices” theory, and let’s not forget the “Magical mutant cock-fighting ring gone wrong” theory, but one theory stands above all the rest.

The most well known, and probably the most ridiculous, theory is the “Demon repeatedly getting jumped by angels” theory.

But it’s all just a conspiracy theory. An urban legend. A joke.

Until the day Amelia Butler found the devil bleeding out in an alley.

[jettiesadork]

Self Indulgent Vi x Reader drabble

I have never written smut before. I have never even written fanfic. I don't know what came over me. This probably sucks.

Cw: handcuffs, shitty writing

NSFW minors dni

"Is this really necessary, cupcake?" Vi asks as you handcuff her to the headboard with little pink fluffy handcuffs that she could definitely get out of if she really wanted to.

You shoot her a little smile, so innocent that nobody would be able to tell what was going through your head at the sight of her. A light blush dusted her cheeks as she attempted to hide her face in her shoulder.

"Well, maybe if you could keep your hands to yourself and quit picking fights with every man who looks at me in a way you don't like, we wouldn't be in this predicament.", You stated matter-of-factly. She scoffs and a snarky response begins to leave her lips, but she stops herself when she sees you undressing.

Slowly, you pull your tank top over your head, revealing that lacy pink bra you know drives her wild.

"What's wrong?," You ask, "Cat got your tongue?"

Vi would reply to your sassy comment if she wasn't so busy wishing she could remove your bra with her mind. You get up from the bed and kick off your plaid shorts before straddling her.

Seeing her like this, hair tussled, blushing and eyes dark with lust and need was enough to make you want to undo the cuffs but you reminded yourself that this was her punishment.

Still, feeling a bit of pity for your desperate girlfriend, you leaned down and placed a kiss on her lips. What started as a gentle and sweet kiss turned into Vi moaning into your mouth, tongue slipping past your lips with the fervor of a starved man. You pulled away, too quick for her liking, and she slumped back onto the bed with a huff.

You reached behind your back and removed your bra with one swift motion, add Vi's hands pulled at the handcuffs hard enough for them to clank against the metal of the headboard. You stifled a giggle at this and continued on with your plan.

Your hands grazed your own stomach, inching up until they reached your tits and squeezed them, your hips beginning to rock against Vi's.

"Fuck, you're killing me, babe", she called out as her blue eyes watched you intently. All you could do was smirk, amused at her reaction to your little show.

You prodded two fingers at her lips, making her eyebrows raise at your boldness but nonetheless her mouth opened. You pushed your digits inside, feeling her tongue swirl around them. Getting carried away, you pushed them a bit too deep and she gagged around them, making you smile innocently once more as if you weren't borderline torturing your girlfriend. You pulled your fingers out, satisfied with how wet they were and kissed her once more, feeling her sharp teeth nip at your bottom lip.

Sitting back up, you pushed your panties aside and slid your fingers between your folds. You started circling your bud, gently at first but as your need grew, you sped up. Little whimpers and moans fell out of your lips as Vi watched your every move. Her hips began rocking up towards nothing, desperate for some sort of release.

"Please, I need you so bad cupcake," She pleaded to no avail.

The hand that you had been supporting yourself with moved to your chest as your fingers found your nipple and began tugging at it once more.

"Vi, feels so good, baby," You choked out in between moans and rushed breaths as Vi whimpered and bit her lip so hard she almost drew blood. Her hands pulled at the handcuffs again, tears beginning to form in her eyes from frustration as her thighs pressed against each other.

You could feel your orgasm approaching as you made eye contact with Vi, your mouth hung open in a silent scream as her hips grinded against the mattress. She could feel your thighs trembling against her, feel your hips rocking against her, and it was driving her crazy. The broken cry that came from her lips sent you over the edge and pure bliss washed over you as you came.

You opened your eyes, still panting, to see Vi blushing in a shade that nearly matched her hair, with a thin sheen of sweat covering her. You leaned down once more to kiss her and this time it was somehow needier, Vi moaning into your mouth.

"You want me to make you feel good baby?" You asked softly as you pulled away.

Eyebrows knitted, she replied, "Y-yeah, please, anything". It was almost ironic that your tough, strong girlfriend was begging for you to touch her.

You placed a soft kiss on her forehead and began unbuttoning her pants, pulling them, along with her panties, down in one quick motion. You pulled her shirt up just above her tits and pressed a few kisses to them before taking one of her pierced nipples into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it. You felt her back arch and the sound that came out of her mouth was downright ungodly.

Kissing your way to her other breast, you grazed your teeth gently against her nipple, eliciting yet another cry from her mouth. You kissed down her toned abdomen, stopping for a second to admire her beauty before finally pressing a kiss to her hip. Her breathing was quickening with anticipation as she watched you with desperation in her eyes.

You spread her legs and settled in between them, peppering little kisses along her inner thighs before she huffs out in frustration.

"F-fuck, stop teasing please", she called out, and who were you to deny her request?

You wasted no time licking a stripe up her pussy, her taste making you moan. Vi let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in as her body finally relaxed. You pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her womanhood before taking her clit into your mouth and sucking. Immediately she tensed up again, letting out a cry as your tongue flicked against her bud.

"Yea-ah just like that", she moaned out while she tugged against the handcuffs with such strength you thought she might break them.

You reached up and took one of her breasts into your hands, rolling her nipple in between your index finger and thumb. Her hips were rocking against your face despite your attempt to keep her still.

You pulled away from her to spit on her pussy, the sensation pulling a deep, guttural moan from her. Your face returned to it's place in between her legs as you fucked her with your tongue and moved your hand from her chest to her puffy clit and pressed down on it hard, circling fast.

The room was filled with her gasps, cries, and little chants of "Fuck, yes, please, god yes" and the sounds of her gushing wetness. She grinded into your face even more wildly than before as her back arched and her eyes screwed shut. Her walls were fluttering around your tongue and her thighs were trying to close around your head. With no warning, you switched the direction you were circling her clit with and Vi came hard with a scream of your name. Her thighs clamped down around you as you worked her through her orgasm with a soft whimper at the sweet taste of her release.

Eventually you pulled away and took in the sight before you. Its your favorite view, Violet panting with a red face, eyes clouded with bliss and tears running down her cheeks. You finally undid the handcuffs and presses soft kisses to her wrists before she wrapped her arms around you and pulled you down with her, engulfing you in a hug.

"You okay, Vi?" You asked as she lazily kissed down your neck.

"Mm, doin' great, cupcake."

[your-nanas-house]

A hiss as a promise

◇ Pairing: Older!Ominis Gaunt X wife!Reader

◇ Warnings: mention of breeding, kisses, crotch, Gaunts

◇ Summary: During an event in the house of the Gaunt Ominis is dragged by her wife to another room because she has to tell him something.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. I'm pretty lost lately so I'm struggling so much with writing or anything..sorry if it's bad.

The evening was not like an ordinary, quiet one, the type of evening that the now-married couple liked to spend together behind the walls of their shared home.

It was way far from that given the many voices in the room that filled the room along with the various noises of glasses and cutlery touching porcelain plates belonging to the most prestigious pureblood family, the same family that Ominis Gaunt was a part of and the same family that had organized that anniversary celebration event for some festivity that Y/n still didn't understand, despite being part of that family for several years now.

The halls of the Gaunt house were elegantly decorated in the colors belonging to their family and their Hogwarts house, everything was in its place and everything looked as perfect as Ominis Gaunt's body in that lovely suit his mother had forced him to wear. He was simply divine, with his blond hair arranged, his clothes hugging and showing off his slim and fit body, bringing out his pale skin decorated with tiny moles. It really made Y/n's mouth water, even though they had been married for about five years, she was still surprised by her husband's beauty and the effect it had on her whole body and mind.

She too was dressed for the occasion, a dress her mother-in-law had chosen for her, a dress that hugged her body deliciously and with a soft fabric that was pleasant to the touch, something she knew Mrs Gaunt had chosen just to please Ominis and to show off the family addition as best as she could.

Ominis hated the whole thing but feeling so good his wife's curves when he had the chance to walk past her exalted him, turning something animalistic inside him that he kept hiding all night too focused to not meet or chat with anyone except her.

Now that the young wizard thought about it, he hadn't felt or even sensed her for more than half an hour, which worried him enough to make him move from the hidden corner, he had conquered, to visit his wife with the precious help of his wand, which was glowing red sending the necessary information for him to be able to navigate without collide with guests or his family.

A few minutes passed and Y/n became the one who surprised Ominis, finding him before he could find her, dragging him with a blank expression towards the corridor that led to the guest rooms and bathrooms.

The poor Gaunt couldn't understand what was going on but despite his concern he followed his wife without question, ignoring the voice of his brother Marvolo calling him to tell him or ask him something for which the pale man had no interest.

Main reason because he didn't answer but let Y/n speak and apologize before continuing to drag him by the sleeve of his neatly fitted shirt, towards a path that would have been unknown to Ominis if they had not been at his family house.

As soon as they reached a door, the wizard's body was pushed into the chamber and the door closed with a thud, leaving all noise and guests outside.

Several seconds passed before Ominis was slammed against the door, an action that caused him to let out a small groan that continued as soon as his wife's lips reached the soft spot on his neck.

His large, pale hands moved to Y/n's covered hips, gripping the fabric of her dress in an attempt to hold her closer to him as he asked amused "what's all this need, my dear?" he whispered breathlessly with curiosity,stiffening slightly at the answer.

"The period has come, I was bored and I checked the calendar" Y/n revealed as she continued to leave wet kisses and small bites on her husband's skin "breed me, Ominis, fill me with your babies" she pleaded, grabbing his crotch which was still covered by his trousers combined with his shirt for the event.

A guttural groan coming from Ominis' throat escaped his rosy lips, it took a lot of control of him to not come immediately in his trousers at the mere thought of marking his wife's tight walls, perhaps leaving an heir who would surely take her surname instead of his.

Ominis' eyes darkened and his pupils dilated before a command-like hiss came out of his mouth followed by the sudden movement of his hands, which were previously holding the fabric of the dress urgently but gently. They now grabbed her hips harshly, pushing Y/n onto the first surface he hit, noticing it that way, as he moved from his trapped position against the door.

Another hiss came out of his mouth, this time it sounded almost like a promise and Y/n hoped it was just what she thought and hoped.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @huntress-valkyrie , @bewitchedbymadness

[cuntestdoll]

before i die, i need to be blindfolded with my hands tied in the middle of the woods running blindly from you (im already naked). you’re just watching me stumble around, trying not to bump into a tree. it doesn’t take long for you to catch up to me. abruptly grabbing my hips and covering my mouth with your hand. “did you even try to get away doll?” … my face is smashed against a tree as you spread my legs,, i’m already soaked

[deviousgoat]

My honest opinion on the WWDITS finale (yes I know it’s late but hear me out through my tedious essay on this.)

It genuinely suffered from bad writing. This final season had so much potential to be great much like the ones that came before, but it absolutely flunked on it. Everything else in this season had great quirky; the costumes, the lighting, and the set. But as the season’s writing was truly introduced, I noticed it didn’t really have that same atmosphere anymore. The jokes felt stale and too planned, while others seemed to appear out of nowhere and cause chaos for the storyline. Jerry and the monster were a good add-in joke, and introducing Laszlo’s father aswell was great. But how these characters were entered left a huge writing problem. They created a huge Checkov’s (I think that’s how you spell it?) gun. They introduced huge plot point’s that could’ve been executed carefully enough to be reasonable with the audience. And there are a couple I’d like to name.

Sean’s death; throughout season 6 we hear about Sean having a huge decline in his mental and physical health. This is present through his two heart attacks, being fired from his job, and seeming incapable, of much. But when it came to a point where people began to worry about Sean’s health and such, his last scene is him talking about the people who have pissed in his toilets. It’s very on cue for Sean… but it feels wrong. How Sean is so carefully cured to die, then they just drop it.

Nandermo; Nandermo has been an ongoing thing since the start of the series. A ship between Nandor and Guillermo where one finds themselves in pure love while the other refuses to admit their feelings and kinda just complains. It’s a very popular ship dynamic in communities and I feel WWDITS is no different. But for the final scene of them together, it expands on more plot points instead of answering them. Will they be lovers? Or just friends? Or will they grow to hate each other? None of it is answered. We just get them sitting in a coffin together and falling down a big ass hole.

Rodrick Cravensworth (I don’t know if that’s properly spelt but oh well.); Lord Rodrick Cravensworth was an ASS of a character. The writing for him was great, and his story tells us so much of Laszlo’s childhood. He’s really meant to agitate you through the screen, and does so wonderfully. But yet, in his finale scene we only see him being locked up in a safe with a funko pop that looks exactly like him. I see this as a huge plot point that shouldn’t have been left out so easily. If they decide in 1, 2, 5, 10, 15 or beyond years to do another movie about our favourite vampires from Staten Island, it should include Rodrick again, just for closer. (If he possessed the doll and broke out of the safe or some shit.)

Dadzlo; Dadzlo is a word used by fans in the WWDITS community to assess Laszlo’s time as a father for Colin Robinson. This was a huge plot point in WWDITS season 4, but is never really expanded on since then (Other than the brief mentions of it.) But when we s6 (ep6? I can’t remember) We see more hints and mentions of the two. This whole thing is a huge mess of a plot. Colin refusing to acknowledge that Laszlo raised him, while Laz is left tormented by his inner turmoil. This whole thing was left unresolved, which left it to only be a couple-line joke mostly. I hate this because I personally enjoyed Dadzlo a lot in the season and was disappointed without the denouement of it.

Nadja’s lack of positive female interaction; Nadja is Pansexual, we’re all aware of that. But throughout the entirety of WWDITS we almost never see her have a positive female interaction (other than Jenna, and even then it was pretty bad.) Why haven’t we seen her ever have any interest in another female character? It’s a horrid battle of bad writing and fear. A popular ship, Ladja, romanticizes Nadja and The Guide together. I personally like this ship, showing how Nadja and the guide SHOULD’VE needed up instead of being a one-sided friendship. But it actually pisses me off to see that yet again, their just in a crush x “who the hell are you?” kind of relationship.

The finale; writing this in general just makes my blood actually fucking boil. The season was so bad, and how they ended it was even worse. No tying of lose ends, no use of Checkov’s gun, and not even a resolve to ships. The episode was mainly Guillermo centred, which is kinda boring. There are plenty of episodes already within the series that have Guillermo in every plot line, and having the finale be one of those was horrid. The other characters within the finale felt more like props instead of supporting characters. And of course we had “We’ll meet again” as the song to end it off. I’m not saying it’s a bad song, I’m just saying it’s overused in media. A lot of endings in television shows from what I’ve seen include that song, a very notable one being Gravity falls. I know it’s hard to find appropriate music for the ending of a series, but do I really have to hear that same one over, and over, and over? Like, grab Al Bowley’s “Heartaches” or something but just find something original.

I’m super pissed about this, and I could go on and on about the things I hated about this series finale, but I’m just going to let you guys get a taste of how much I hated s6

Like, god how hard is it to write an ending? Do the fans have to do it all themselves? The whole point of a proper ending is to find a way that makes most of the fans of it happy, not suffocating us with bad writing. I hate what they’ve done to this television show, I really do.

I hope you enjoyed my energy vampire-like rant. Now goodnight :3

[rootbeerfromvermont]

Perks of being a favorite student-

Divider credit- @bernardsbendystraws

Notes - this is platonic btw, Incorrect quote, made this because I thought it was funny, Professor Garlick is so sick of reader but still loves her student

"What in Merlin's name-" she gasped almost dropping her tea cup, quickly setting down on a nearby table so she could place a hand on her chest, pearls are clutched

"Umm...surprise?" You say awkwardly, waving your hands a bit as if you were waving to a audience

"Now what is it that you are doing past curfew Miss/Mr. L/N?.." she sighed crossing her arms clearly disappointed in you, you were quite a good kid when it came to her classes

"Sleep walking?..." hoping that would pass as a excuse.. "My dreams can get.... veryyyy out of hand."

"Really? Well that's certainly peculiar considering your holding a book.."

"Oh wow!! Would you look at that?" You laughed with the most fake surprised expression, lifting the book up and flipping throught the pages, "Perhaps it had grown feet and placed itself in my hand!"

"That would be truly astonishing...*sigh* your lucky you ran into me and not the others, you know the rules, come along now back to the dorm.."

[blacksmithsghost]

It's been years, I know, but I still don't get it. ATLA stated that, in its universe, there isn't a way to have good without evil, that the Avatar should bring balance to the world, that everything is relative, that harmony is important. How did people accept so easily the whole "Raava and Vaatu" duality? It doesn't make sense, if the Avatar is all about harmony, how can it only have a "good" spirit?? Where is the balance if the "evil" spirit was always trapped? It's like taking daoism and breaking it apart, it makes absolutely no sense.

An Evil Avatar and a Good Avatar defies the purpose of there even being someone that brings balance, just let people act as they should, they'll regulate themselves. One person was supposed to host yin and yang, so to say, and then they just split apart and suddenly the whole series is about the good defeating the evil...

I love Korra, she's one of the best characters out there even today, the aesthetics of the show are brilliant, but the second season of TLoK destroyed all the lore and made the show just one more cheap good/evil battle. The whole thing about Wan?? I liked the first time I watched, but I swear, every year that goes by it gets worse—cool, there's the original guy, who didn't learn bending from dragons, who had solely Raava inside him, who trapped away Vaatu (which represents yin). Therefore he should have thrown the whole world into chaos.

The core philosophy that made the show so good just disappeared.

(sorry, I'm still fucking angry about it)

[bromeothehomeo]

“Hitoshi?” You walked downstairs to greet your boyfriend from his late patrol.

He was in the middle of taking off his scarf as he looked at you with a look of disgust.

“How was work?” You asked, hugging him tightly.

He stood still, worried he would be sleeping on the couch.

“Hitoshi? What’s wrong?” You poke at him to get him to speak.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked, more to himself then you.

“You didn’t, don’t worry.” You hug him some more.

“Then why’d you call me Hitoshi? It’s Toshi to you.” He said, finally hugging you back.

“It’s the same thing.” You say.

“No. No it’s not.” He shook his head, arms crossed and pouting slightly.

“Toshi.” You say, hand resting on his arm.

“That’s better.” His said, kissing my forehead.