#also….

[corpish]

got a new job so we’re celebrating with a thot pic!! (insta)

[mappingthesky]

never not mine

here’s the long-awaited jealous nymphia prompt i have been promising for some time now.. thank u for ur patience :’) i also want to thank @headgleeksana for her contributions to this fic & for being the best beta reader in the universe (and for being a total muse) without further ado, pls enjoy some sexy sweet angst ::)

It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise, because this is what she’d said she wanted, but it comes as one anyway.

It isn’t Nymphia’s party, it’s really just Xunami’s excuse to get a bunch of beautiful girls in one place, but the whole thing feels like it’s orbiting around her. She’s sitting pretty in the center of the room, a vision in hot pink and a ponytail, and feels every bit as effortless as she looks. She’s freshly unattached to anyone, for real this time, and, by the looks of it, other people have caught on. She exudes a quiet rule over the room, gracious and bubbling and effervescent. She feels the eyes of other girls on her outfit, on her lips. They hang on her every word, their laughter following the last word of her jokes like thunder after lightning. They want her, or they want to be her. She feels in control, like she could make anything happen, like she could change the flow of the whole night with the flutter of her fingertips. Everything comes back to her - she’s the center of gravity.

She’s only vaguely aware of Jane’s arrival, and is determined not to pay any attention to it. Jane is a mere tug on Nymphia’s force field as she circles the party, honey blonde and apparently happy, her smile a glittering flash in the corner of Nymphia’s eye. Jane, Nymphia reminds herself, is just one of many small planets revolving around her. Even if she happens to be exceptionally, unfortunately gorgeous. Even if she’s dressed in something black and skintight. Even if her hair looks a shade darker, and making Nymphia wonder whether she’s the reason why. 

She brushes the thought away, because this is what she wanted, and focuses on making the pretty girl across from her lose her mind. The girl is going on about the band Nymphia mentioned liking, clearly trying to make a lasting impression, although Nymphia’s attention seems to have been diverted for no particular reason. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. She’s back now. Nymphia hones in on the girl with expertise; leans in ever so slightly, locks eyes and flutters her lashes. The other girl stutters, tries to stumble through the rest of the sentence before losing sight of it completely. 

It doesn’t matter that Jane doesn’t seem to be looking at her, at least not when Nymphia steals a second glance, because it's better this way. Crazy things happen when Nymphia and Jane get together - crazy, obsessive, mind-altering things that contradict Nymphia’s attachment to not getting attached. She doesn’t need someone who can’t tear themselves away from her, she needs her freedom. Besides, should Nymphia ever need her, Jane will never be too far away. She doesn’t have to catch her staring to know that Jane’s eyes are on her, stealing glances when Nymphia isn’t looking. It’s inevitable, not that Nymphia really cares. Still, she reasons that, if she’s going to be looked at, she might as well look good. Besides, she’s got it down to a science: she sits up straight, or stands with a delicate arc to her spine so her ass sits right. She flicks her hair, flashes smiles, holds her drink just below her mouth to emphasize her lips, drags her finger slowly where the cocktail is clinging to the corner of her mouth. She’s sure of her approach, sure that if she turned her head just now, she’d find Jane staring. So, just to prove a point…

It’s a calculated glance, a cinematic turn of the head worthy of slow motion cameras and silver screens; Nymphia’s hair flying over her shoulder, her lips parted mid-word, like she only just happened to look in Jane’s direction. Everything is precise, perfect - except for what she finds when she gazes across the room and into the kitchen. Because Jane isn’t looking at her.

Jane is thoroughly distracted. She’s got a drink in one hand and a girl in the other. A pretty, short, curly-haired brunette who slides herself suggestively between Jane and the edge of the countertop. Wedging herself perfectly into the space Nymphia has created for her. The space Nymphia said she wanted.

It’s a tiny deviation from the natural order of things, a miniscule slip in the grand cosmic scheme, but it upends everything. The entire order of the universe as Nymphia knows it ceases to exist. Gravity fails, and every celestial body orbiting around her becomes little more than stray debris floating haphazardly through space. 

Someone might be speaking to her, but Nymphia isn’t listening. She’s watching, transfixed, as Jane’s hand flies to the brunette’s waist as though compelled there by some strange magnetism. She smiles down at the girl and it’s gut-wrenching - it’s toothy, her canines pointed with want, tongue catching just between her teeth like she has to hold herself back from attaching herself to the other girl’s neck. The brunette says something and Jane laughs like she has to, her hand inadvertently lifting as she gives some flirty response, then willed back to its resting place on the shorter girl’s waist by some force Nymphia can’t comprehend. Nymphia glares at the back of the girl’s head, her chocolate curls bobbing as she laughs. She talks and Jane tilts the last of her drink into her mouth, sets it aside, and lays her palms flat on the countertop on either side of the girl. Nymphia watches as Jane leans into the brunette, looking down at her with this devious, fascinated sort of expression. It’s not quite the way she looked at Nymphia just a few weeks before, but it’s a little too close. It ignites something in Nymphia she didn’t know was capable of burning. 

Eventually the girl is dragged out from under Jane by a friend. She holds her hand until she’s torn away, and promises she’ll be back. Don’t bother, Nymphia thinks.

Jane’s looking after the girl as she totters off after her friend, her eyes low and almost certainly on the brunette’s ass, and Nymphia’s up off the couch and crossing the room to her in half a second flat. Jane’s head turns when Nymphia storms into her periphery. She straightens up and is halfway through some polite, only half-surprised hello until she sees the look on Nymphia’s face. 

“What?” she says, wide eyed and suddenly serious. She doesn’t look caught, in fact she actually looks concerned, and Nymphia doesn’t know if that’s better or worse. Jane is a deer in headlights, desperately trying to work out just what has Nymphia so uncharacteristically riled up. She doesn’t have much time, because Nymphia just grabs her hand and drags her down a hallway. She hardly has a plan, much less an idea of what it means - the inexplicable notion that she needs Jane, needs her anywhere but here.

“What?” Jane questions over and over while Nymphia’s shoving her into the bathroom and locking the door behind them. Nymphia turns and huffs and it’s supposed to be out of frustration, but her breath catches in her throat halfway through, because for the first time tonight she’s letting herself really look at Jane. 

“What is it?” Jane presses, dark brows knit tightly together. Her eyes look almost silver, rimmed with a sparkling shadow and searching Nymphia’s face. Nymphia sees them and thinks of a hundred different ways to keep them on her, thinks she wants to try them all one by one. She looks at Jane’s lips and wants them, wants the pale pink of her lipstick stamped across her skin as evidence that Jane still wants her. The honey blonde of her hair cascades in waves down her back and Nymphia wants to ruin it, to bury her hands in it while Jane moves down her body. She’s wearing this little black dress that’s making everything worse, because Jane looks so good in black, and the thin straps are begging to be slid down her shoulders, and her shoulders are begging to be bitten, and Nymphia isn’t quite begging but she’s not that far from it.

“Nymphia,” Jane looks actually worried, and it’s a painful reminder how much that she actually cares. The last time they’d spoken it had been about seeing other people, and it’s too soon to say whether or not that was a mistake, but from where Nymphia is standing it sure looks like one. “What’s up? What happened?” Jane urges.

What happened is that there’s a room full of people who would probably take Nymphia home in a heartbeat. What happened is that she thought that's what she wanted. What happened was she saw Jane wanting someone else, and she wanted her to want her instead. But Nymphia doesn’t say that. All she can manage right now is, “Are you having fun?”

Jane blinks. “That’s it? You’re holding me hostage in a bathroom to ask me if I’m having fun?”

Nymphia shrugs and leans back against the wall. It’s supposed to be an invitation. “It looked like you were.”

“Did I do something?” Jane asks, and she’s so concerned with not upsetting Nymphia that she’s completely missing the point - that Nymphia wants her to ruin her completely. “Because I’ve been trying to stay out of your way. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Is it not cool that I’m here?” Jane continues, “because I thought about staying in, but ‘Nami told me I should come. She said you’d be fine with it.”

Nymphia rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well that’s because she wants to fuck you, Jane.”

Jane groans, tilts her head back and stares at the ceiling because here we fucking go again. “Ok. I’m not fucking Xunami, if that’s what you’re worried about. I told you I wasn’t interested in hooking up with your friends, remember?”

Nymphia does remember, remembers how she was so certain that she was the only one Jane really ever wanted. It was easier to brush her off when she thought that would never change.

“What about that other girl?” Nymphia’s voice is low, decidedly sultry as she steps closer. “In the kitchen.”

Jane misses a beat, cocks her head. “I’m sorry, did you not tell me I should sleep with other people?”

Nymphia ignores that last bit, and closes in on Jane. She slides herself against the sink, trying to work out what it’ll take to get Jane pressed against her like she was with the other girl. “Do you want her?”

Jane looks confused for a moment, then it all just melts away. “Oh,” Jane makes some personal revelation, smiles like something is funny. She steps back and Nymphia’s spell is broken.

“What?” Nymphia whines, actually stamping her foot because she’s trying to seduce Jane and there’s nothing funny about it.

“You’re jealous.” Jane turns back, suddenly smug, Nymphia wants to wipe the grin off her perfect fucking face. Wants to dip her fingers in her mouth and pull her smirk apart. 

Nymphia tries to shrug it off, to remain unflappable, but feels flimsy. “Maybe I just don’t like the way you looked at her,” she says. Jane doesn’t fall for it. 

“You’re so jealous,” Jane repeats, and she has Nymphia completely trapped in more ways than one. She angles closer, nearly pinning Nymphia to the countertop. “Ironic, isn’t it? Weren’t you the one telling me I was too obsessed?”

She’s hovering over Nymphia now, looking at her like she’s trying to decide just how worth it it would be to tear into her, trying to determine just how fucked she’d be afterwards. It crosses Nymphia’s mind for the first time that it doesn’t have to be like that, but more on that later. 

“Look at you now,” Jane coos, soft and searing. She’s smiling, because she’s actually the fucking worst. Her eyes drag over Nymphia’s face like she knows they’re allowed to, seeing right through her and directly at the things she’s not saying. Jane always had this gift for reading people, for turning them transparent, for finding that one thing that they’re desperately trying to hide and bringing it right to the surface. Out of admiration or kindness or something much bigger, Jane’s always given Nymphia the courtesy of a blind eye, but not anymore. Now Nymphia’s on the other end. She feels wholly and completely exposed, and it should be terrifying, but instead it's overwhelmingly sexy. Voyeuristic somehow. 

“Okay,” Nymphia gives a little. Maybe it’ll be enough. “So what if I am jealous?”

“So what if you are,” Jane shrugs, playing as unbearably indifferent. “I went after her because you told me to.”

Okay, so maybe Nymphia’s jealous. Maybe she misses Jane, and maybe it’s that the girl she was seconds away from tearing into looked nothing like Nymphia, and it’s doing horrible things to her head. Maybe she’s just fully lost her mind, because she deviates. She doesn’t say the thing that’s scientifically proven to seduce, she looks up at Jane and says the thing she really means:

“Don't you still want me?”

It’s supposed to be sexy, and to some degree it is. Nymphia is baiting, because she thinks she knows what the answer will be. It’s not until the words pass her lips, until she’s already asked the question, that she realizes she may not like the answer. It’s not until then that she realizes why she’s really asking - because she’s uncertain. Her doubt manifests as an almost undetectable lilt to her voice - just a touch too sad, too pleading.  Most people would miss it, but most people aren’t Jane. There’s a little flash of feeling in Jane’s eyes when Nymphia says it - like she can't fathom why Nymphia would ever have to wonder.

Nymphia is a little awed by it - the way that Jane, just for a moment, goes immeasurably tender. How immediately she’s willing to do it for Nymphia; even here, even now. There’s a small shake to her head when she says it, Jane’s eyes soft and her voice unmistakably sincere. “You never have to ask me that, Nymphia.”’

It’s everything Nymphia didn’t know she needed to hear, and suddenly she’s moved by something much more than simple desire. She’s leaning up to seal the deal, to make Jane hers again - that’s when Jane hardens once more.

“Ah-ah.” Jane pulls back; not by much, but just enough to watch it happen - the way Nymphia’s eyes fill with want for what’s just beyond her reach. She’s finally got Nymphia right where she’s always wanted her, melting and malleable and in the palm of her hand, and she’s going to make the most of it. “I want to hear you say it.”

Nymphia gapes up at her, lips still parted in what was almost a kiss and eyes still filled with love-struck stars. All she can manage is a flustered, fluttering, “huh?”

“You’re jealous,” Jane smiles as she stares down at the indisputable proof. Her words burn like liquor - hot and addictive and getting Nymphia a little high. “What do you want me to do about it?”

Oh, Nymphia thinks, and her mouth moves towards a grin, because she knows what happens next. This is the part where she gets the upper hand, where she exacts her carefully calculated control over Jane like she knows she can. She keeps her eyes on Jane as she wets her fingers with her tongue, watches her eyes fill with want as she slides her hand down her torso, dips beneath her skirt-

“Uh-uh,” Jane stops her hand. “Use your words.”

Nymphia scoffs, starts on some sort of excuse, but it’s no use. Jane presses against her, and there’s nothing she could do about it, even if she wanted to. She knows her too well. Jane leans and offers the slightest incentive, her lips brushing all too softly on Nymphia’s neck. “What do you want?”

Nymphia’s eyes flutter at the feeling of Jane finally on her, at the feeling of all the places she still isn't - all the places she still needs her to be. “I want you,” Nymphia whispers. It’s an admission, but it’s barely audible, and it doesn’t even come close to the full extent of the truth.

Jane nips at her neck and Nymphia actually fucking gasps at everything it is - pressure, presence, punishment. “You can do better than that.”

“Jane,” Nymphia pleads, because she doesn’t know if she can. She’s flushing red and she feels hot to the touch, and Jane’s hands are firmly planted on the sink but Nymphia needs them everywhere. Speaking with her body is one thing, but actually saying it out loud has her uncharacteristically nervous. 

“You can say it, baby,” Jane encourages, drawing back, eyes reverent. It’s cruel, and it’s caring. She brushes the hair behind her ear, a small gesture of composure in the face of Nymphia’s falling apart entirely. She leans back in, offers a start. “You want me to…”

She sinks her teeth into Nymphia’s earlobe, and her hand flies to the nape of Nymphia’s neck as she nearly dissolves in her hold. Something swells inside her. It’s the collapse of everything, the world as Nymphia knows it, and the birth of something new: A supernova, an unexpected safety found in the complete surrender of herself to things outside of her control. She finishes Jane’s sentence, as easy as an exhale, “fuck me.”

All at once Jane is everywhere - lips at her lips, right hand at her hip, knee sliding expertly between Nymphia’s thighs. She kisses her and Nymphia’s not afraid anymore, not of anything. She offers half a dozen alternate endings, the words surging up and out of her.

Have me, when Jane’s thigh works against her. Make me yours, when Jane pulls Nymphia’s hair from her ponytail, sends it streaming down her back. 

Take me home, when Jane’s eyes meet hers. When Jane leads her through the hallway, flushed and flustered. When they pass through the party hand-in-hand. When they make it known that it was never over, not really. 

[unreliableforecasts]

COOKING WITH FLO!!!!¡¡¡¡ ITS BEEN WAY TOO LONG

[qritos]

there’s a hot dog van on the qsmp where they’re making drugs

[growstrong]

plops marg into your hands

[mignonmark]

someone pls tell me what u think his rising sign is T_T

[marlena-immortale]

HOW ARE YOU 23

….I need to know what you mean by this

[shortkingvi]

late to the party but the menu is such an excellent film. what an awesome allegory for the pretentiousness of upper society and ruin of true care and social enjoyment of just….. a simple meal with people you love… joyous

[hauntingrabbits]

comic

[itsscaredycat]

so ok yeah fine i watched gravity falls again and read the book of bill

[jackyjackdraws]

I got this idea at 3am.

No, I won't elaborate further

[apocalypsegay]

i don't think he clicked through

[icedhotcocoa]

okay guys but in all seriousness the trump attempted assassination is going to rally the right like crazy. voter turnout will be going up. it is more crucial than ever that you SHOW UP AND VOTE IN THIS YEARS PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION.

[jeejyboard]

i thinkit would be cool if there was an omegaverse but for salmon instead of wolves. Like when the time comes certain members of society get really juicy musclewise and get yiffy fangs and are suddenly compelled to return to the neighborhood they grew up in and 96 hours later show up barefoot in full starvation mode and ravaged by walking through interstate traffic to fuck whoevwr smells the best in the local burger king. Then afterwards they die and disintegrate to be eaten by seagulls in the parking lot

[sunnylolli]

THE SCENARIO IF STANLEY DID HAVE THE COURAGE TO ASK FORD FOR HELP THAT TIME BEFORE HE GOES TO GRAVITY FALLS AND FORD IS SOMEHOW CONVINCED TO COME DOWN AND MAKE AMENDS????????????