#and maybe water idk when last i drank water

[theythemmer]

phinktober day 8: tatinof

wtf a whole week done already???? i haven’t drawn this consistently since i was in high school 😭

bonus bc idk when to stop

[beeribas]

I feel incredibly bitchy today y'all

[v6quewrlds]

for like a dad joe idea what if their kid keeps asking them questions 😭 like i saw on twitter some said that u realize u don’t know much when ur kid asks u “why” all the time 😭 idek if that makes any sense 💀 idk happy thanksgiving!!!

you stood in the kitchen, your eyes scanning the countertops for any stray crumbs that had escaped the chaos of lunchtime. the sun peeked through the windows, casting a warm afternoon glow across the tiles and the stainless steel appliances. the air smelled faintly of melted cheese and buttered bread. it a comforting scent that never failed to make you smile despite the mess.

joe was sitting at the table, a picture of calm as he bottle-fed baby noa. her tiny fists clutched at his shirt, pulling it slightly as she hungrily drank her milk. he had that look in his eyes, the one that told you he was in daddy-mode, fully focused on your two daughters.

"but daddy, why can't i have ice cream for lunch?" amara asked, her voice filled with the sweet innocence that could melt the most stoic of hearts.

joe looked up from noa with a raised eyebrow, his mouth twitching with the faintest hint of a smile. "because it's not a food group, pumpkin. unless you've discovered a new food pyramid that includes ice cream and sprinkles?"

amara giggled, her cheeks flushing pink as she took a bite of her grilled cheese sandwich. "what's a food group?" she inquired, her mouth half full.

you couldn't help but laugh as you rinsed the plates. "it's like a family of foods, baby," you explained, turning to face your daughter. "we need different types to stay healthy, like veggies, fruits, and proteins. ice cream's a treat for after we've had our good stuff."

amara pondered for a moment, her eyes narrowing in thought. "do you eat all the food groups, mommy?" she asked, her voice a mix of challenge and genuine curiosity.

a playful grin spread across your face. "well, i try to, munchkin. but sometimes, mommy has cravings just like you."

joe took the opportunity to jump in. "yeah, and when mommy has those cravings, she eats an entire pint of ice cream and calls it 'balance'." he sat up a bit straighter, burping noa gently. "but we don't talk about those days."

you shot him a glare, which only made him laugh. "very funny, joe," you said, shaking your head despite the smile on your lips.

amara's eyes lit up. "can i have ice cream tomorrow, daddy?"

"we'll see," joe replied, his tone a perfect blend of firmness and amusement. he knew you would have the final say, but he wasn't about to spoil the fun just yet. "maybe if you eat all your veggies at dinner."

you rolled your eyes, but held your protest, unable to hide your amusement.

"veggies?" amara scrunched up her nose. "but i don't like veggies."

joe simply shrugged his shoulders dramatically. "well, then i guess you're out of luck, pumpkin." he playfully poked her tummy with his free hand.

you stepped closer to the table, your laughter subsiding as you saw the look of determination in amara's eyes. "don't worry, baby," you said, your voice soothing. "we'll find some veggies you like. maybe we can try those carrot sticks you liked last week with some ranch dip?"

amara considered it for a moment before nodding. "okay, mommy. but only if i can have chocolate ice cream."

"deal," you agreed, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. you knew the terms of the negotiation would likely be forgotten by the time dessert rolled around tomorrow night. you turned back to the sink, the warm water rushing over the plates and mixing with the suds. the sound of the faucet and the clinking of silverware filled the room, a comforting backdrop to the chatter.

"what's for dinner?" joe asked, finally breaking the silence that had fallen between the bites of grilled cheese and sips of milk.

you scrunched your nose as you rinsed a plate. "you and your daughter sure do ask a ton of questions," you teased, glancing at joe.

"i'm making a new recipe tonight, remember? it's a surprise." you knew he didn't like surprises when it came to food, but you enjoyed watching him try new things.

"surprise?" joe echoed, crinkling his nose at the sound of the word. noa stared back at him with wide eyes, seemingly surprised by his reaction. he laughed softly, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. "i'm sure it'll be great, babe. right, pumpkin?"

amara nodded vigorously, her dark curls bobbing with excitement. "yes!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled by the last bite of her sandwich.

you dried your hands and took a seat at the table, your gaze drifting to the clock on the wall. "alright, miss burrow," you said, turning your attention to amara. "let's get you cleaned up. you can play outside with daddy after he's done feeding noa."

amara's face brightened at the mention of playing outside. she hopped down from her chair, her feet landing with a soft thud on the floor. "daddy, can i ask you a question?" she said, her little feet shuffling towards joe as her round brown eyes looked up at him expectantly.

joe, ever the good sport, nodded. "always, amara. what's on your mind, pumpkin?"

"how did noa get in mommy's tummy?" amara asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

joe chuckled nervously, a hint of surprise flashing across his features. you stifled a laugh, cooing as you reached for your infant, brushing your thumb over her plush cheek as she started to fuss in joe's arms. you watched as joe's expression shifted into a slightly panicked look, his mind racing to find the right words.

"uh," he began, clearing his throat before opting to redirect his eldest's thoughts. "who wants ice cream before we go play?"

amara's eyes lit up, and she squealed with excitement. "me! me!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down.

you couldn't help but laugh. "not so fast," you said, taking the now-empty bottle from joe. "first, let's get cleaned up, and then we'll talk about ice cream."

joe handed noa over with a grateful look, standing up from his chair. "you heard your mom," he said, ruffling amara's hair. "wash those hands and we'll figure out this ice cream situation."

you shook your head as amara rushed down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving joe standing in a daze. "nice save, dad," you said, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

joe shrugged, his eyes following your four-year-old's retreating figure. "i thought i had more time before we had to explain how babies were made," he murmured, half to himself.

you chuckled as you held noa close to your chest. "you know she's the curious type," you murmured, rubbing the baby's back gently, coaxing her to sleep. "we might as well get used to it."

[youcantrewind]

Spoiler alert I basically did that.

I was just gonna relax in my bed with my tablet and then next thing I knew... 7am. 😂

god i'm so old

Home, showered, advil'd...

I think my feet survived the dumb classic cosplay move of not breaking in a pair of footwear before spending all day at con in them, but we won't really know until tomorrow if my back will like it.

And my wig was the biggest headache all day. I just couldn't get it to stay put, and was regularly in the bathroom fixing it over and over instead of being on the con floor.

But overall the ol costume held up. If I want to keep wearing it, I'm still going to have to remake those accessories I've meant to do long ago, but that's a problem for future me.

I'm exhausted though. The con stamina is just not there anymore. I never want to go to bed at 9pm, and yet... I could easily do that right now.

[azalearanger]

A Collection of Small Thoughts of Appreciation for the Silmarillion:

I love that Evening, the time of the half-shadow half-light, the time of the resting of the sun, was "the hour of greatest light and joy" and the most treasured time to the elves.

Fingon wept when he saw the state of Maedhros hanging from Thangorodrim. He wept for his friend.

Melian's words "a grief but lulled to sleep lies between the princes of the Noldor"; idk I just think 'grief' is the perfect word to use there, I can't explain it but that is just exactly what emanates from so much that happens in the silm

speaking of grief, the death of Fingolfin made me weep.

Beren's farewell poem on pg 178 (just go read it pls pls), like its just the definition of bittersweet, he loves Lúthien sm

I've said it once I'll say it again: Turgon opening the leaguer and coming to his brother's aid in the Nirnaeth ("Auta i lómë! The night is passing!" LIKE COME ON (with tears rolling down my face)

AND the last stand of Húrin at the Nirnaeth, ayo I think this will get its own post at some point, but BRO, Last Stand indeed, actually unbeatable

One of those passages you should read out loud just to hear it: Gwindor: " 'Awake, Túrin son of Húrin Thalion! On Ivrin's lake is endless laughter. She is fed from crystal fountains unfailing, and guarded from defilement by Ulmo, Lord of Waters, who wrought her beauty in ancient days.' Then Túrin knelt and drank from that water; and suddenly he cast himself down, and his tears were unloosed at last, and he was healed of his madness." << just a beautiful, beautiful passage. Literary art, full of light, paints a picture in my head, 100000/10. (also should prob be its own post at some point)

maybe more to come at some point who knows

[tzuberry]

zerobaseone maknae line as tropes / cliches ૮ • ﻌ - ა

pairing shen quanrui (ricky), kim gyuvin, park gunwook, han yujin + gn reader⠀⠀⠀details fluff, slight angst in ricky’s and gunwook’s, bulletpoint and written

cw getting stood up, mention of lipstick use in ricky’s ⠀⠀⠀wc 738 696 604 802 respectively (2840 in total)⠀⠀⠀reading time 11 min

note title kinda misleading TBH... havent written on tumblr in a while, so this is a new account and my first post! im hoping this doesnt flop :( i loved writing this so much, so if it flops i might just repost it ... idk.. likes and reblogs are appreciated !!! (only if u want to ofc 🤞🏻)

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ricky 리키

blind date... but you got stood up, and ricky is your best friend

it’s not that you really wanted to go on a date, it’s that your friend assured you this was the perfect guy for you

and your friend swore, cross their heart, that you would not regret letting them set you up

but now you’re sitting at a table alone, with pitiful looks being thrown your way by the restaurant staff and the other groups of people around you and it’s clear to you; you do regret it, and this is the last time you’ll let anyone other than yourself handle your love life

after compulsorily buying a meal for yourself so as to not leave the place empty handed, you slowly chew on your food, wondering where it went wrong

did he see a picture of you and decided that was it? did he hear a story about you that was just unflattering? what was it about you that made them turn around and away from the restaurant—away from you?

in the midst of all this, your phone emits a ding! sound. you’re not doing anything important, so you see it fit to check the notification

ricky 😡🐱: how’s your date going?

terribly. but that’s a little embarrassing to admit, especially to ricky...

yn: good! i’ll text you later

you lay your phone down on the table and pick up your utensils once again to finish your meal, but a shadow casting over your plate interrupts you

“why are you alone, then?”

When you follow the voice (and the shadow), Ricky is standing next to your table, his phone in hand with the screen open on your text thread. He turns it off with a swift click of the power button, and he takes the space on the other side of the table where your date should have been.

You don’t know how to respond. You’re embarrassed; a second ago, you were alone at a restaurant filled with people, and now, your best friend has caught you lying to him about being at said restaurant alone.

“What happened?” Ricky asks as his arm makes its way across the table to your glass of water. He lifts it to his lips, taking a sip and placing it back down. He looks genuinely concerned, maybe even a little pissed, but all you can focus on is how your lipstick stain is on the rim of the cup, and how he drank from that same spot.

You shake your head. “I, um,” you pause, pursing your lips and trying to find a good enough (fake) reason. “Nothing. I didn’t like him, and he said he had other plans, so I just let him go.”

Ricky furrows his eyebrows at that. It’s a very visible sign of incredulity; he doesn’t believe your lie. Nevertheless, he simply shrugs it off. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you reply, still dealing with the aftereffects of being stood up. You poke your fork at the food before you; a lost appetite and an expensive meal don’t mix well.

Ricky leans forward, letting his forearms rest on the surface of the table. He’s looking at you so seriously, analyzing your every move. “Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, attempting to come off as teasing, but he only waves you off. “I just want to look at you.”

You feel yourself practically melt under his gaze, but you ignore it. This is Ricky, your best friend... nothing more. Right. This is Ricky—you should tell him the truth about why you’re alone.

“He didn’t come,” you admit. “I wasn’t super excited about this date, but I thought– I thought I would at least go on a date. This is... nothing. I was here by myself before you got here.”

There’s a pained glint in his eyes. Is he feeling sorry for you? Maybe you do deserve all the pity you’ve gotten today. He gulps, keeping eye contact with you while biting on a small portion of his bottom lip.

After a while, he sighs. “Come on.”

Ricky begins to stand up, stuffing his phone into his pocket before you hold him back by the wrist. “What?” you question.

“We’ll go do something else,” he says with a bob of his head. Your grasp on his wrist somehow turns into your hands being interlocked. “Let me take you on a date. I’ve always wanted to, and I promise I won’t screw it up.”

gyuvin 규빈

boy next door who you’ve always had feelings for, you just never thought of him liking you back

you’ve always liked kim gyuvin

from the moment his family moved in next to your house, with his bedroom parallel to yours

you could see everything through his window; who he was, what his hobbies were, what he admired, and how he acted with his friends

this all made him seem... unattainable. you felt like you were the audience for a show, and gyuvin was the actor

it didn’t help that you went to the same school, and to further that, he was immensely popular

it was obvious. how could you expect that someone like him wouldn’t be? he’s tall, cute, extroverted, funny and kind—the entire package, if you would say so yourself

you weren’t totally unpopular. you had your fair share of friends, a few social circles that you hung out with. but gyuvin seemed too out of reach for you, even if he was your neighbor

the singular interaction you’ve had was when he came over to ask for sugar. it went like this: “hi!” “hi?” “i was baking, and i kind of ran out of brown sugar. do you maybe... uh...” “oh, sugar? wait, i think i do, hold on.”

it was that awkward. so when your mother told you she became new friends with gyuvin’s mom and wanted to have dinner at their house as a family, you freaked

but it’s not like you can say no, so you found yourself at the kims’ door a few days later

“Hi! You must be [Name]. I’ve seen you around, and I’ve heard about you from Gyuvin, but you’re much prettier up close! I know who you get your looks from,” Mrs Kim says, winking at your mother.

“You’re too kind, your son is very polite, and...”

You tune their conversation out—did she say she’s heard about you from Gyuvin? Why would he be talking about you?

Your mom finishes it (whatever she was talking about) off with, “They’d be perfect together, don’t you think?” Mrs Kim nods vigorously, then pats you twice on the shoulder. “[Name], maybe you would want to go spend some time with Gyuvin first? I’m afraid dinner isn’t ready, there’s still a long way... I’ll call you both down when it is. He’s up in his room.”

You bow, excusing yourself and obligingly treading up the stairs. This is the second time you’re about to interact with him—you better not mess up.

On the final step of the staircase, you start to hear talking from one of the bedrooms. From where you stand, it’s not clear where its origin is, and so you try to listen for the voice. It leads you to a slightly open door, and holy shit—this is Gyuvin’s door.

“They’re coming over today, and, ugh, I don’t know,” he rants. Is that about you? It has to be. Who else is coming over? You move closer to the door frame, nearly peeking your head in. “I just– I don’t know how to talk to them! Last time, I went over to ask if they wanted to hang out and...” he trails off, the regret evident in his tone. “I asked for sugar. To bake.” Oh my god. This is about you.

You take another step, risking the possibility of the door creaking. “I don’t even bake! I came home with sugar and my mom asked why and I just said I found some on the street.” He sighs, exasperated. You inch even closer, toying with the chances of him catching you eavesdropping, when... creak. At the same time, Gyuvin’s rant is cut short. “Gunwook, you have to help me, I can’t be an idiot in front of them–”

His head snaps towards the door, where you are, standing and staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. He quickly hangs up, bidding Gunwook a hushed goodbye through the microphone. “How much of that did you hear?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, flattered and shy at the same time. “I think... all of it.”

Gyuvin’s hand raises to cup his nape, and he gives you the most endearing yet bashful smile. “Would you, maybe, um, wanna hang out sometime? With me, of course...”

gunwook 건욱

friends to lovers, and everyone is sure you both like each other but all you do is deny it

you know gunwook like the back of your hand

although you met a little over a year ago, he quickly became a constant in your life, especially because you saw him everyday at school

he would wait outside your class, eat lunch with you, walk you home (and sometimes to school in the mornings), help you with homework even though he’s always busy with all the extracurriculars he participates in, and additionally schedules weekly study sessions together

this led countless people to think you were dating, even though you’re really not

you deny it, making a gesture with your hands indicating the negative. “we’re just friends, he would never be my boyfriend,” you laugh it off. gunwook tenses up, and the corners of his lips suddenly become downturned. “yeah, we’re just friends...” he agrees, sounding somewhat unsure

that’s what happens every single time someone mistakes you for a couple. you’re the first to refuse that assumption, while gunwook just follows your lead

you thought, “hey, maybe he’s just shy around the topic of dating.” and so you don’t push it, or even ask about what he thinks of the rumors surrounding you two

at this week’s study session, which he scheduled at his house, he can’t focus

repeatedly tapping his pen and running his fingers through his hair—doing anything but his homework, really—he doesn’t even spare you a glance

and so you take the responsibility upon yourself to ask. “is something bothering you?”

Gunwook sighs, looking as if he’s internally debating the pros and cons of unloading his baggage onto you. His eyes dart around his room, from the door, to the desk, to the bed, and finally to you, before he swipes his tongue between his lips and lets out a breath. “Can I ask you something?”

You drop your pen. Why does he seem so conflicted?

Readjusting your position on the bed to face him, you lean closer to Gunwook as you shove your school books and other materials out of the way. “You can ask me anything,” you say, determined to comfort your friend.

He visibly hesitates, biting his bottom lip. He’s still not looking at you, and not so much as a second is allotted for one glimpse. “Do you...” he pauses, trying to muster the courage. “Do you really think of me as just a friend?”

The question almost makes your jaw drop to the floor. What does he mean by that? Sure, you did have a short-lived crush on him when you first got acquainted, but it faded instantaneously. You didn’t know you could be anything more—you thought you had no chance with a guy like him, so your feelings were trivial to you.

Tilting your head, you reply, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Gunwook shrugs, also following your actions and pushing all his textbooks away. “I guess– oh my god, this sounds stupid, but,” he groans, “I’ve liked you since last year, since before we even became friends. And whenever someone asks if I’m your boyfriend, you just– you immediately say no.”

He... likes you? You’re dumbfounded, eyes wide and mouth actually agape this time. You’re certain your cheeks are red, judging from the heat you feel rush up to your face.

At your silence, he continues. “I know it’s stupid. I didn’t just become friends with you because I like you, it’s more than that, but everytime you say I could never be your boyfriend or something like that, I hate it.

“I’ve liked you for so long, and please answer me,” he sounds breathless as he speaks, “Can I... can we be anything more?”

yujin 유진

first love / teenage crush

you didn’t know when you started liking yujin, you just did

maybe it was when you would watch him play soccer after school, with him alone on the field practicing and you doing your homework on the bleachers

or maybe it was when he bought you a drink that one time. you were thirsty after running to school because you were on the verge of getting an offense on your permanent record if you were late one more time

clicking a few buttons on the vending machine, the solace provided by strawberry milk was nearly yours—until you open your wallet to find that there’s only a thousand won inside

“maybe next time,” you think, “i don’t need to drink anything right now.”

but before you can leave, someone sneaks their two thousand into the slot for you, and the milk drops down into the small metal box below for you to claim

when you turn around, you’re met with yujin

and then a switch flipped. since then, you’ve noticed han yujin wherever you went

you stumbled onto the soccer field on a hot day when you were assigned cleaning duty, and you found that he was the only one there

deciding to repay the favor, after spectating him practicing for a while, you go to buy a drink for him too when you buy your own

you leave it next to his bag with a note, saying: “you’re really good! i bought this for you, make sure to get some rest ♡”

and so watching him practice while doing your homework became a regular occurrence for you, even if you weren’t 100% watching all the time. it was like background music, and your interest in him (caused by him buying you milk) became a full blown crush

Following the steps of your daily routine, you hurriedly arrange your books in your backpack, ready to go see Yujin—the best part of your day—when your teacher stops you at the door.

“[Name], I’d like to talk to you about tutoring someone,” she says, a soft smile plastered on her face as if she wasn’t actively ruining your day. “You’re one of my best students, and a classmate of yours really needs help.”

As hard as you tried to get away, you got stuck in the classroom for the rest of the afternoon, discussing possible tutoring times and the topic outlines where your “classmate” needed further explanation. Not only were you annoyed you missed some time to see Yujin, but when you got to the field, hoping he would still be practicing late into the night, he was gone.

Although you were displeased at the thought of having to tutor your male classmate every day of the school week, you had no choice. In addition, he was at least paying you, so it wasn’t like your hard work was for nothing—just that now, you would have to sacrifice your time with the boy you like.

You started to tutor him after school, and going to see Yujin became a rare possibility. Your tutoring was yielding good results, however, and your tutee received high marks on almost all tests after being taken under your wing.

He runs up to you, showing you his paper with a big red ninety-eight in the corner; he got an even higher grade than you did. “[Name]! Thank you, look at this! I’ve never gotten a grade this high!” You nod, but everything he’s saying is going in one ear and out the other. Since he technically doesn’t need your help anymore, maybe you could go watch Yujin today.

You cancel your session for the day, with permission from your advising teacher. After two and a half weeks, you’re finally back at the field—but this time, he’s the one who isn’t here. You let out a deep breath, deciding to power through and do your homework like normal.

You’re in the middle of trigonometry when a cool sensation is pressed up against your cheek, water beginning to drip down your skin. Flicking your head towards the perpetrator, you discover it to be Yujin holding a strawberry milk for you. He giggles, handing you the small box and sitting down beside you. “Here. I haven’t, um, seen you in a while. Why’s that?”

You take it from him, detaching the straw from the back of the box and poking it through the designated hole. “Yeah,” you say, sipping on the milk for a few seconds after. “I started to tutor Jiwon, so I couldn’t come the last few weeks.”

“Oh, you must be busy, then. Nevermind,” he mutters, shaking his head. “No, what is it? You can’t just say nevermind.” You scoff, a teasing grin making its way onto your face.

Yujin gulps. “Will you, uh... come to my game this weekend?”

[nadvs]

so sorry for sending so many requests but this just popped into my head. in the swte universe, in their college days, i feel like the reader isn't a huge fan of drinking or she doesn't get as pissed as rafe at least. so what if she gets completely drunk one night, being clingy to rafe, maybe people flirt with her because she's without rafe and he comes to "rescue her"? idk just sth like that🤍🤍🤍🤍

never be sorry, ily and your ideas are always so good 🥹 YES omg rafe has no impulse control so he gets hammered on the reg, whereas she’s not one to get too crazy… most of the time 🤭

i’m a sucker for angst so i just had to make it when they’re fwb and he’s already fallen for her while she still just assumes they’re just friends (and this is the night she starts to think of him as something more) 👀

based on this fic

» au masterlist

she cannot pay attention to the guy talking to her. she’s too dazed. she hasn’t eaten much today. she’s running on only a few hours of sleep. and the coolers she drank were so sugary that she didn’t even realize how much alcohol she was consuming. this is the drunkest she’s been in ages.

this guy’s hitting on her. she can tell by the way his eyes trail down her body every so often, his head tilted as he rambles on about something. what was his name again?

she nods along, trying to follow his words while loud music surrounds them. she doesn’t even remember how they started talking.

rafe moved in to this house with his teammates just last weekend and tonight, they’re hosting their first party. the front room is crowded and stuffy and she’s getting dangerously close to feeling sick.

she’d rather hang out with rafe right now. but when she arrived, he pulled her in a friendly hug and pointed her to the drinks, then continued talking to the girl he was already in conversation with.

he’s probably trying to hook up with her and she doesn’t want to be a shitty friend, cockblocking him simply because she’s craving some familiarity.

“…too much work, you know what i mean?” the guy says.

“yeah,” she says, no idea what she just agreed to. she looks around. “did you see any water around here?”

“we can try the kitchen?” he offers.

rafe spots her crossing through the crowd. the guy who she’s been talking to, so obviously into her that he’s embarrassing himself, is following her. she doesn’t seem all that happy that he’s trailing her.

he’s been talking to this girl to try to get out of the fog that sank over him not that long ago. while he was getting ready tonight, all he could think about was the girl who’s supposed to just be his best friend.

she’s always on his mind. when he wakes up. when he goes to bed. during classes. during practice. it’s so bad that even when he’s with her, he’s dreading her leaving.

rafe turns his attention back to the girl talking his ear off. he needs to distract himself. he’s starting to see his best friend as more than a friend, has been for a while now, and it’s fucking agony. she could not be clearer about not wanting a relationship.

and he doesn’t want one, either. he needs to remind himself of that.

but as they round the corner into the kitchen, he sees the guy’s hand rest on the small of her back. it makes rafe’s blood boil.

she opens the fridge. it’s practically empty.

“this has to be a joke,” she mumbles, dizzy at this point.

she swings the door shut and looks up at the guy who’s been following her. at this point, she just wants to get rid of him and find rafe. she can apologize for cockblocking him later.

thankfully, she doesn’t have to. rafe pays no mind to the guy clearly trying to get in her pants, putting himself between them. he ducks, lowering so he can speak in her ear.

“you alright?” rafe asks.

“a house full of athletes and you don’t have any water?” she slurs.

rafe smirks when her hand drags over his. it’s so damn nice when she touches him, especially when it’s subconscious like this. he pulls back just enough to meet her eyes.

then, he turns to the guy who should be able to tell he’s a third wheel at this point.

“we’re good,” rafe says, cocking his head in a way to dismiss him.

irritation flashes over his face. but he’s not moving.

“can you not take a hint?” rafe snips. “she’s not interested.”

rafe isn’t sure if that last part is true, but he hopes it is. it works. he sighs and steps away, pissed off but likely not about to start a fight with the guy known for his aggression.

he turns his attention back to her. he’s revelling in the fact that her hand is still cupping his. her palm is so nice and soft and it’s making his chest go warm.

“how much did you drink?” he asks, the amused smile on his face returning.

“too much,” she admits.

rafe leans over, opening a cupboard to grab a plastic water bottle, then grips her hand tighter.

“come on,” he says. he leads her upstairs to his bedroom, away from the noise and stuffiness of the crowd.

once he shuts the door behind them, the chaos from downstairs muffled, she already feels less overwhelmed.

she’s been in here once before. they hooked up in this bed a few nights ago. she can still remember the way his mouth felt on her neck.

rafe leads her to his bed, sitting her on the edge while he kneels on the floor in front of her, and she’s overwhelmed all over again because of the way he’s looking at her, concern etched into his features.

she’s too drunk. she’s not thinking straight, because not only is she dizzy as hell, but as her eyes sweep over his face, all she can think about is how handsome he is, how good of a kisser he is, how nice it’d be to spend the rest of the night in his arms, like they’re a couple instead of just two people who hook up sometimes.

he twists the cap off the bottle for her. she takes long, slow sips. rafe settles on the bed beside her, watching her.

she lets out a slow breath once she’s drank enough. when she looks at him, she exhales a chuckle.

“why do you look so worried?” she says. “i’m not gonna die.”

rafe catches himself and glances away. this effect she has on him is insane. he’s never cared this much about anybody.

“just didn’t know you were this bad at holding your alcohol,” he says.

“i hate you,” she laughs. “but thanks for saving me.”

“saving you?”

“that guy would not shut up.” rafe hates how happy he is that she didn’t actually like him.

“about what?”

“i couldn’t tell you a single thing he said to me,” she confesses. he chuckles. “i was just thinking that i’m drunk as hell and want to hang out with you.”

that last part slipped out. she takes another sip of water just to have something to do. she expects him to give her shit for her soppy words. but he doesn’t.

“why didn’t you?” he asks.

“didn’t wanna cockblock. that girl you were talking to is pretty.”

she hopes in her drunkenness, she doesn’t sound jealous. because she realizes maybe, deep down, she is.

how could she not be? rafe turned out to be so much more than she expected. what she thought would be a one-time hook-up led her to her best friend. her best friend who happens to be hot and fun and unlike anyone she knows.

“she wouldn’t shut up, either,” rafe says. she laughs, sinking back across his bed.

“are we both just bad listeners?” she asks.

“i’m not.”

“right. you’re never the problem.”

he looks down at her. his cheeks are starting to ache from smiling.

“we should set them up,” she says, her eyelids heavy, legs hanging off the side of his bed. “they’d never run out of things to talk about.”

rafe thinks about how the same could be said for the two of them. conversations always come so easy.

she shuts her eyes and all he can think about is how cute she is. fuck, this is hard.

“what if i napped right now?” she mumbles. “would you be offended as the host of this party?”

“yeah,” he answers simply, because he’s quite honestly at a loss for words right now.

“okay, i’m gonna offend you then,” she says softly. “sorry.”

he nudges her knee.

“don’t sleep like that,” he says. “come on.”

she shifts to lie down on her side, smelling him on his pillow, feeling him put a cover over her. he’s treating her with such tender care that if she wasn’t so drunk, she’d be teasing him, asking who the hell he’s pretending to be, acting all sweet.

but she’s soaking in the feeling because it’s nice to pretend like this is more. she hopes it’s just the alcohol swimming through her that’s making her think this way.

she nuzzles into his pillow. rafe doesn’t say another word. he shuts off the lights and leaves. throughout the night, he comes back up every so often to check on her.

eventually, she wakes up and comes downstairs, feeling more coherent. the music is just worsening the headache she woke up with and she’s desperate to just get home already. she steps outside and books a ride on her phone.

rafe’s phone buzzes in his pocket. it’s a text from her.

thanks for taking care of me. i ordered a ride home and made your bed so i think we’re even

his heart sinks over the fact that she’s already gone.

he replies: we are not even

she texts back: i’m okay with not agreeing on this. goodnight :)

rafe stares at his screen with a small smile on his face, somewhere between happy and sad, before texting back: goodnight.

[omgsecretsecret]

Wdym you were drunk

Pairing : Yang Jeongin x gn!reader ; friends to lovers

Genre : idk fluff and slightly suggestive in a way ig? a bit of angst if you squint realll hard

Word count : about 950

Warning : mention of sex while being drunk, do not read if you are sensitive to this subject ; slight sexual themes (talking about sex a little bit but no smut on this one)

Author's note : the pics on top are not mine, credits to the owners ; many bisous to @giddyfatherchris for helping me proofreading this <3

Prompts : from the list made by @quokkareactions

58. "I remember kissing you... WHY DO I REMEMBER KISSING YOU?"

49. "How drunk were you last night?" "Well, I still have my pants on, so not that drunk." "Those aren't your pants."

53. "Well, fuck me." "Already did."

Reminder : do NOT take advantage of someone who isn't sober (it is not what Jeongin does here but it's always good to say it)

Masterlist

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You wake up slowly, the light of the sun falling on your face dazzling you when you open your eyes. You quickly squint them as a sudden headache hits you. You hold your face and whine at the pain. Ugh. You shouldn't have drank so much last night.

You look around to see the walls of a room that isn't yours but you don't even have time to panic as you immediately recognize the dorm of your best friend and crush, Jeongin. You stay like that, cursing under your breath for not being more mindful yesterday for a few minutes before hearing a small noise coming from outside the room. You are not scared, but you finally start wondering where Jeongin is since he isn't in there and it's like he heard your thoughts as he comes in.

"Oh ! Hello sleepyhead. I heard you mumbling. You need painkillers ?" he smiles softly as he hands you the pills and a glass of water.

You simply nod and try to give him a thankful smile although you are still wincing in discomfort. He sits next to you on the bed as you swallow, putting the drink on the nightstand once you are done. He waits a little moment, giving you time for the medicine to kick in before speaking up.

"So.. what do you think of last night ? he looks at you and you notice his ears turning red while his eyes are somewhat.. hopeful ?

— Last night ? Honestly I don't think I remember much. you chuckle, a bit embarrassed, and his face falls slightly.

— Really ? Nothing ? he asks and you sense a slight tinge of disappointment in his voice but you can't get why.

— Aah yes maybe. I... I think I remember kissing you... WAIT WHY DO I REMEMBER KISSING YOU ? you look at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to explain.

— You don't... You really don't know ? he sounds sad and you can't even understand why. How drunk were you last night ? he asks a bit cautiously.

— Well I still have my pants on so not that drunk. you joke as you look at Jeongin clueless, confused and feeling somewhat bad. He just looks like a kicked puppy right now.

— Those aren't your pants, y/nie.

— WHAT ? you look at him in shock again. What the hell happened last night ?

— They're mine. he doesn't even dare to look at you, his voice low.

— What ? I think you're going to have to explain this one, Jeongin.

— I... he sighs. Yeah, you're right. he looks away before speaking. So.. last night, you... You kissed me. You looked a tad bit tipsy, but really not that much ! You started kissing me.. like.. a lot. And you told me about how you loved me... As more than a friend. I was so shocked, but I told you I liked you too and... We went in the room. I'm sorry. You kept telling me you loved me and you wanted this and I believed you. he is playing with his fingers nervously as he talks, eyes fixated on the floor.

— Wow... you let out, processing the informations. I never thought I'd... Oh gosh.. you shake your head. And I told you that like that ? Well, fuck me.

— Already did.. he mumbles and you snap your eyes back at him.

— Seriously ?

— No.. look I'm sorry I'm just nervous so I joked to try to relax. I'm scared you didn't mean it or you hate me now. he can hear his own heart pounding in his ears yet he can't get himself to look at you.

— What ? No, Innie ! It's not that. I trust you, everything is good. I just never thought I'd tell you I like you this way. you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Last night I thought drinking would be a good idea so I could maybe get the courage to confess to you. But it seems I drank a bit too much. you chuckle and you hear him sigh in relief.

— So you don't hate me ? And you really have a crush on me ? Because I really do love you. he blushes and gosh is he cute.

— Of course, Innie. Don't worry okay ? I just wish I could remember how last night was. Our first night together out of many... I hope ? you ask shyly.

— Out of so so many. he nods and gives you a soft smile before moving to settle besides you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. But first, I'd like to spend a nice and chill morning with my partner.

You smile and whisper a sweet "i'd love that" before resting your head on his shoulder, heart light and full of happiness.

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do not repost, translate or rewrite without my written authorisation

[magpiepills]

Misunderstood

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!resder

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Marcus has a bad day at work and needs you to help him feel better.

Warnings: SMUT, established relationship, PIV, oral (f and m receiving) fingering, big dick Marcus, multiple orgasms, thumb sucking, cum eating, cum swapping, dirty talk, some degradation, use of a tie as a leash sort of?, alcohol consumption, pancakes, cardigans, NPR, idk what else man, this is not fluffy Marcus.

A word from the author: this is a repost! I’ve got no idea what happened here. I was up at 5 am writing Marcus Pike smut. I haven’t even seen the mentalist. Thanks to the magic sluts, home is where the whores are!

The door opened and closed with a familiar sound, but ushered in an energy that was foreign to the serene atmosphere of your apartment. “Fucking…art crime.” Marcus muttered, taking off his jacket as if it was responsible for his sour mood. He loosened his tie, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his once crisp white shirt, now wilted with sweat and the dirt of the day.

You dried the last plate and put it in its slot in the cabinet before going to greet your love.

Quiet, like you were approaching a deer, trying not to startle him, you sank onto the sofa beside where he slumped, jaw set and eyes boring into the middle distance.

“Marcus, I'm glad you’re home. I'm just about to start dinner. H-how was your day?” Your voice was soft and warm, meant to soothe, but it was a foolish question. The crease between his eyebrows was all you needed to see.

Thinking better than to press him, you went to the bar cart and poured a generous splash of whiskey.

“Hard day.” Was all he offered.

Finishing the glass in two gulps, Marcus handed the glass back to you, “more” he requested wordlessly. You obliged, another heavy pour and this time he drank it slowly, turning the glass in his hand to watch the light shift in the etched glass while you watched, eager to help him forget whatever had him wound so tight.

Of course no one saw what you saw. They saw his easy, affable manner, his smooth shaven jaw, his casual Friday cardigans, how he listened when people talked, how he laughed at dumb jokes, how he always refilled he coffee pot, and they saw all of these qualities, and they chalked them up as weakness.

They didn’t see how his eyes glowed dark, how his hand held firm in your hair, cracked against the round of your ass, didn’t hear him whispering into your ear all the methods he had thought of for ruining you while he waited for the coffee to brew in the break room.

Maybe they’d regard him with a bit more authority if they heard how commanding he could be when he sat his glass on the coffee table and told you to come suck it. Maybe if they saw how he slipped his tie over your head, wound it around his fist and tugged your face to the straining erection under his sensible slacks they’d take him a little more seriously. If they could just see him now.

Your knees burnt as they dug into the rug that sweet Marcus had carried up the stairs to your apartment for you. Your eyes watered as his cock filled your throat, nudging almost far enough to make you gag. “Yeah. Just like that, baby. Breathe through your nose. Get it wet.” He eased his grip on the tie enough to let you move, making room to wrap your hand around his shaft and pump it while you hollowed your cheeks over the fat head of his cock, lips sliding smoothly over his foreskin, before you pulled it gently down and sucked in earnest. You wanted for all of his focus to be solely between his legs. You watched his eyes as he watched you spit on his cock, using your hand to spread it up and down his length while you licked his balls, cradling them on your tongue. You worked him steadily while his head fell back against the couch, eyes closed as he rocked his hips to meet your mouth. “Fuck. Fuuuuuck. Oh, baby. Suck it so good.” His hips rocked more urgently, his words slurred as he inched closer to his release and you eagerly waited to taste his cum. You’d let him film your mouth then show him how it covered your tongue, dripped down your chin before swallowing it down and pushing the drops that escape back into your mouth before you open, letting him see that you’ve gratefully swallowed every drop.

You don’t get to show him though, because he’s hooking his thick hungers back into the circle of fabric around your neck and pulling you off of him with a wet pop and a hiss. He smacks your cheek, more affection than sting, but you can feel how much he needs you to surrender to him. He’s in no mood for putting you in your place tonight. Keeping his fingers looped through the fabric he sits up straighter and watches as you rub your pussy with your hand under your dress, suddenly shy as he looms over you. Marcus watches a moment before he sighs and nods, as if finally understanding. “Sucking cock makes your pussy wet, hm? Can’t help but get on your knees and rub your pussy, huh, baby?” An image floats before his eyes, you on your knees, sucking him deep and hard while he watches you fuck yourself on that dildo he bought you, the one with the suction cup, the one he could stick on the mirror in the hallway so he could watch the way your pussy stretched and gripped the purple silicone, taking it and his cock at the same time. He files that thought away for next time, too far gone to fool with toys right now.

“Take all that off.” He gestures at you, tugging his own shirt over his head, hurriedly kicking his pants to the side, naked so he can feel your hot skin on his when he pulls you to the floor by his tie around your neck, the only thing you’ve left on. He lays you down between the couch and coffee table, a narrow space just big enough for the two of you. He likes how you’ll let him take you however he wants, wherever he wants. You’re a vessel for him to fill. Marcus takes a moment to smooth down the striped fabric of his tie, admiring the way it falls between your breasts. You try not to squirm, but you’re dripping for him, an achy throb in your cunt that only his cock can quell.

You love Marcus when he’s a gentle, tender lover. Love him when he brings home fresh bread from the best bakery, when he makes you pancakes while he listens to Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me on lazy Saturday mornings, when he holds your hand in museums, squeezing you as you lean your head on his shoulder, lost in the romance of the Baroques and the Rococos. You love him now as he pushes your knees up, grabbing your hand, showing you how he wants you to hold yourself open to him, giving him unfettered access to your puffy, slick cunt. Using his thumbs, he spreads you open, slips over your folds, teasing your clit with a roll of his digits, teases your entrance with them, pushing his thumb into you just one knuckle deep before dragging it back out to distribute more of your wetness, replacing it with his other thumb before repeating the motion, alternating thumbs, sliding up over your clit, faster and faster he moves, dripping saliva onto you to add to the squelching sounds. Winding your hips, you focus on your orgasm, just in reach when suddenly you’re being stretched further, two thumbs in your fluttering cunt, flat fingers against your clit making you cry out, body taut as your orgasm is pulled from you by the hands of the only man that owns you this way.

Before you can catch your breath, his hand is back on the tie, pulling you up to watch as he spears into you. He wishes he could go faster, he needs to be inside, but you’re so tight and his cock is so big he has to go slow. Wet thumb sliding around, over your clit and around his cock where he’s desperate to enter you, soothing the skin there with his touch, gentle despite his frenzy. You dare to look up and see him, snarling, mad with lust, teeth bared and chest heaving. “Fuck me Marcus. Please, daddy. Need your big cock so bad.” You whine. He doubles his efforts at your provocation, pushing in further, shallow thrusts becoming faster and deeper until he’s all the way in, head firmly pushed into your cervix and balls against your ass. There’s no air left in your lungs to ask him to please move already. Mercifully, he doesn’t wait long. He studies your face, your wet eyelashes, your mouth agape, cheeks and chest flushed pink, the face of a woman in need of a good fuck and he relents. He starts slowly, picking up speed, pulling out and slamming in and just the right angle to drag the coarse hair at the base of his cock over your swollen clit. It’s a lot. He sees it in your eyes, feels it in the way you squeeze his cock so tight. You’re close.

“You gonna come on daddy’s cock? Hm? You wait all day just for me to come home and fuck you like this? Treat you like a slut? Fuck you on the floor?” You try hard to answer him but all you can force out it a pathetic “yesyesyes!” As you squeeze your tits and pluck at your nipples the way he does, but not quite the same. It’s almost enough. Marcus can see that. He sees you right up against your second orgasm but unable to grasp it. He needs you to get there so he can follow you, Jack and Jill and the pail of water. He keeps his steady rhythm, holds his angle, and reaches to hold your cheek in his warm hand. He rubs his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down until you open your mouth for him to slide it in, letting you taste yourself on his skin when he presses it into your tongue. It’s enough. More than enough. Your legs shake and your legs tighten around his waist. Words and meaning are lost between you. “Fuck, baby. Oh fuck. Oh! Ohhhhhhh.” He whimpers as your orgasm milks him of his own, draining every drop of cum from him.

You collect yourselves slowly, arms around his neck, him settled over you, kissing your face, whispering his love, his tie still hanging loose around your neck. You scratch his back, kiss his shoulder, and tap his side to let you up, you stand on shaky legs, not quite ready for gravity. You wonder what to make for dinner, consider resorting to takeout so you can just eat in bed. You think aloud, expecting some input from Marcus, but instead he holds your hips and directs you onto the couch, positioning you with your knees at the edge and your elbows on the back cushion so he can kneel behind you. You gasp, “Marcus! Marc-!” But he pays you no mind. Just licks messy stripes through your sensitive pussy, tasting himself, tasting you, humming at the vulgarity of what he’s doing, teasing your clit to make you shiver and flinch. Satisfied at last, he eases you onto your back to kiss you deep, sharing your combined flavor before taking your hand and leading you to the shower. Dinner can wait.

[endmeprettyplease]

Happy Birthday, Aнгел

A/N: idk what this is, other than self indulgent. I love Makarov sm, and I'm desperate to get back into writing. So if you guys have any requests for him, please send them my way. This can be read as og makarov or reboot. I had both in mind when writing it. Reader is female but with no descriptions of appearance. Translations at the end.

Vladimir Makarov x Fem!Insecure Reader

Warnings: BDSM elements, but bad etiquette, collars, overstimulation, reader is a bad person, makarov is definitely worse, no use of y/n, pet names, google translate (so sorry)

Summary: Makarov surprises the reader for their birthday.

Stepping into the elevator you reminisce on your evening. Deciding that last drink was probably a mistake. Although, even after tripping over yourself on the way to your door and fumbling with your keys a bit, you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face. The warmth of your cheeks from a good night out with friends outweighed any guilt. Until you stepped into your dark apartment. Suddenly reminded of what you were missing. The one thing you did want for your birthday. Likely the reason you’d drank a little more than normal.

Tossing your purse and shoes aside with a sigh. When your arrangement with the man who only identified himself as ‘Vladimir’ began, it was strictly business. Despite the very personal nature of it. You kept him company and he kept you comfortable. Luxury clothes, condo in the nicest part of the city, cash in hand for anything you needed. As long as you did as he asked, discreetly. You knew the inevitable, even as you agreed. That those long nights spent with him between your thighs and romantic dinners would stir feelings in even the strongest of willed.

Nearly a year in and you had been making breakfast watching the news when his image appeared. The same man still sleeping in your bed was plastered on screen beside the names of countless victims. “Makarov Strikes Again” in bold along the bottom. The eggs burned as your mug shattered. The coffee scalding your feet as it spattered but you didn’t move. You knew you had a choice to make. 

Moments later, Makarov had shuffled from the bedroom, hair spiked and ruffled from sleep. Looking incredibly irritated at his abrupt wake up call. A look that was somehow terribly endearing on him. You were fucked, you realised.  When his eyes found the t.v. he paused, slowly tracking his gaze back to you. Making your choice then, you merely smiled back, turning to retrieve some fresh eggs from the fridge. Decidedly unaffected by what kind of person your silence made you. Pretending not to know how it saved your life. 

The memory left your chest feeling hollow, in more ways than one. Against your conscience you had continued to turn a blind eye to his ‘work’. The way he made you feel, the life you lived because of him pulled a selfishness from you that you didn't know existed. Knowing his identity only fueled your need for more of his magnetic and dangerous excitement. More of him. The one thing he could not afford to give you. 

So as it was, you were alone in a condo far too big for just you, on your birthday. Makarov had informed you that morning he would not be in town for the night. Wishing you well with a bouquet at your door and a necklace probably worth more than your childhood home. The necklace itself weighing heavily around your throat, a reminder of what you gave up to have him. Leaving you to question if the loneliness and risk was worth the sparse attention. 

Sighing you felt notably more sober than when you stepped in the door, buzz sufficiently killed by your spiraling thoughts. You settled on going to bed, hoping you’d at least receive a call in the morning. If anything just to know he's safe and alive. You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and moved to walk towards your bedroom before something on your couch caught your eye. Heart pounding as you realised you were not alone. Maybe this is where it all catches up to you-

“Ангел.” Makarov slung his arm lazily across the back of the couch, turning towards you. “You had a good time, да?”

A rush of air left your chest in relief, nearly dizzy with it, quickly replaced by a thrill. “You’re here!” You rounded the couch in record time, happily tossing yourself into his lap. Taking a moment to examine him in the dark you could tell he had showered. The smell of his cologne and your shampoo fresh on his skin. Distinctly lacking his usual scent of cigarettes and gunpowder. His usual dress shirt was replaced by an undershirt and slacks. About as ‘dressed down’ as you'd seen him.  “Did you need to startle me? Why are you in the dark?” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before pulling away. 

Makarov huffed, close to a laugh, one arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close and with the other he gestured towards the large windows and sparkling skyline. “I was enjoying the view, though I much prefer this one.” Pinching your bottom for effect, you squeaked and batted his hand away.

“I’m so happy you made it, you said you couldn’t come.” You nuzzled into his neck, leaving soft kisses in your wake. You could feel the warmth of him through your cocktail dress and it was already buzzing in your head. Alcohol be damned. It had been weeks since he last visited and your need for him was quickly overtaking your senses. 

Vladimir merely shushed you, fingers scratching across your scalp. “I wanted it to be a surprise, it is such an important day after all.” Suddenly his gentle touch turned firm. Balling your hair into his fist as he wrenched you from him. Vladimir tisked, “I understand you’ve had an exciting night. But I expect better from you, моя любимая шлюха.” His voice was close to a snarl, eyes dark. 

Your heart dropped nearly as quickly as you did. Knees falling into the plush carpet between his feet. “I’m sorry, sir. I was just so happy to see you, but it is no excuse for forgetting my manners.” You twisted your hands in your lap, not meeting his eye. You could nearly never predict how he would react to anything. He flipped so quickly between emotions it was as terrifying as it was exciting. Heat already pooling in your cheeks and between your thighs. 

Vladimir’s fingers lifted your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Hush, I have no intention of punishing you tonight. You are forgiven.” His voice soft once again. Finally, his lips met yours in a proper kiss, as deep and unyielding as him. Eventually, you pulled away to breathe, already feeling slightly floaty. Overwhelmed by the feelings he brought out in you. 

“I have brought you something. Повернись.” He gestured with his hand. Quickly, you complied, spinning around on your knees. “Tonight,” Makarov began, behind you, you could hear him opening a box. “I wish to celebrate you.” He easily unclasped your necklace, delicately removing it and settling it aside. You heard a quiet jingle, like a charm bracelet. 

“Now, who do you belong to?” He asked, voice quiet, a thinly veiled threat. But you had never had a problem swearing your loyalty, not to him. 

“You, always you, Vladimir, sir.” 

“Всегда такая хорошая девочка.” He breathed, clearly pleased. A moment later cool leather wrapped around your neck. Thick and firm, smelling freshly polished. Your heart rate rising again as he tightened it around your throat. You could feel your jugular pulsing against the restriction, your mouth suddenly dry. 

Vladimir’s fingers ran along the edge of the collar before slowly cupping your jaw and tilting your head back. Forcing you to bend uncomfortably to follow him. “Tonight, you will take my gifts as I offer them. And you will thank me, да?”

“Yes, sir, thank you.” 

The time it took for him to draw you into the bedroom and strip the dress he had bought for you was a heady blur. His hands always felt cold and calloused. His hands never let you forget what kind of man he was. How dangerous he is. And yet you willingly allowed him to arrange your nude body on the bed as he pleased. Hands bound to the rungs of the headboard. Heart in your throat, yet legs spread because it is what he wanted of you. 

Once satisfied Makarov stepped back, still fully clothed and looking unaffected by the scene, except for the growing bulge in his slacks. One reaction he couldn’t hide from you. Humming his pleasure he ran his eyes along your body and - he turned and abruptly left you. 

You blinked, disappointed but not entirely surprised. You wouldn’t put it past him to insist on rewarding you only to leave you naked and bound for later. He had done it before.  You breathed out a sigh and rolled your already stiff shoulders. Your collar feeling uncomfortably tight, you started to settle in for a long evening. But before you could begin to sulk he returned. Holding another box, black with a pink ribbon tied into a neat bow. 

Vladimir was smiling, teeth looking sharp in the dim light. He was excited, oh no. “Happy Birthday, Ангел. Would you like to open your gift?” He held the box towards you as you stared lamely back at him. The cuffs around your wrists clinking as you shifted your arms.

Huffing an almost laugh again, Makarov rolled his eyes. “Of course, not to worry, I can do it for you. This you will enjoy, I’m sure.” Carelessly he ripped to bow from the box, tossing it aside. Unlike how you, oh so carefully, unwrapped his gifts. You felt a shiver run down your spine, instincts kicking in as your brain had a moment to consider your situation. Maybe you’d finally outrun your usefulness, maybe- 

“Ah!” Tossing the box and tissue paper in the same direction as the bow he produced a small pink…vibrator. Finally breathing again, your panic passed. Despite his flair for the dramatic he wouldn’t hurt you, not in any way you couldn’t take. Not if you were good. And you were always good. The sparkle in his eyes and smirk on his mouth told you that he knew what you were thinking, and that he enjoyed sparking such reactions in you. 

Approaching the bed he looked down at you almost contemplative, as he often did. As if he wasn’t sure what he should do with you. Like a cat unsure if it should eat a mouse or bat it around a bit instead for entertainment. 

Moving onto the bed he encouraged your knees apart, the cool silicone in his hand running along your thigh. “Я скучал по тебе.” Sounding almost wistful as he clicked the vibrator on, it was small and curved and you knew exactly what it was for. Surprisingly gently, he dragged the vibrator across your already sensitive skin. Tickling your hips and stomach before he pressed it to your nipple and bent over to kiss you. 

The kiss becoming more frantic as he worked both of you up. Your arms already straining against your bonds, desperate to tangle your fingers in his hair, to touch him anywhere. Rocking your hips unintentionally you found how wet you were as you stained his slacks. Your slick heat pressing against him through the rough fabric. He enjoyed the friction and allowed the movement for a little longer, before pulling back again. Hand steadying your hips, nails biting into your skin. If he could not keep control of you, he could not control himself. 

“I may not have come here with the intention of punishing you tonight, but I will. If you make me.” There was a near snarl to his tone that caused you to lockup immediately. All movement stilling. 

“I’m sorry, sir.” You breathed, voice shaky. Was the collar tighter?

Makarov smiled again, “I know, мой питомец.” He moved back on the bed, lying between your legs. Grazing the soft skin of your inner thighs with the vibrator, the buzzing making you shake. Desperate not to disappoint him, you held fast and didn't move. “Хороший.” He seemed pleased, and rewarded you by suddenly pressing the vibrator to your mound, just barely above your clit. You twitched, stunned by the sudden stimulation but did not jerk away. Looking down you met his eyes, watching the smile spread even further on his face. Nothing pleased him more than obedience. Well, possibly suffering, but he seemed in a giving mood tonight. For better or worse. 

Vladimir moved closer to your sex, even his breath on you made you throb. Yearning for the mercy he was known to lack, you behaved. Lying still and vulnerable, just how he liked you. Slowly, he dragged the vibrator along the wet seam of your cunt. Stopping to press it harshly to your clit to watch your reaction. But he had trained you well, so when you didn’t flinch, instead tensing as well as you could, he moved to your opening instead. The vibrations along your slick walls made you choke. You wanted to call out to him, but knew better, he hadn’t asked to hear you. The curve to the silicone focused the vibrations perfectly on your most sensitive spot, and  you felt dangerously and embarrassingly close already.

“Хорошенькая маленькая шлюшка.” Makarov lifted his head, resting his cheek on your hip, fingers still pressing against the vibrator inside you. “Do you like your present?” 

You swallowed harshly, finding words hard to push past the leather constricting your throat. Suffocating, like him. “Yes, sir. Very…much, thank you.” You finally managed. Your world narrowing to nothing other than him and your need. He smiled again, almost boyishly, and began rocking his fingers, clicking the vibrator up another level. This caused a reaction that you simply could not fight. You threw your head back, cuffs noisly clanking again as your hands gripped the bed frame. A cry you had no chance of stopping leaving your lips. 

Despite this, Makarov only sped up his movements. Pressing the silicone into you relentlessly. You tried to think of anything not to come. But it felt like you didn't have a choice, he’d been gone so long. Just as you began to lose hope of being good tonight, Vladimir spit on your cunt. Your hips jerking in response. “Go ahead, you do not need to ask for permission tonight,”

The words had barely registered in your cloudy brain before you were coming messily onto his hand. Your slick running down his wrist. Had you been in your right mind you would’ve picked up on the danger in his words. He did not stop, forcing you to ride out your high as long as possible, even as you twisted in his grip. 

When tears started rolling down your cheeks he let up. Allowing you to take a deep breath. Vladimir shifted, moving away from you. You realized now he would finally fill you, you'd get to feel him inside. What you’d been gagging for all those weeks he’d been away. Relief filling you as you spread your thighs for him again. 

Yet, of course. 

Makarov tossed your legs over his shoulders and locked them in place with his arms. 

Of course, this wasn’t actually a reward. 

When his mouth descended on your overstimulated nerves you squealed. Hopelessly twisting and writhing against his unrelenting embrace. Wrapping his lips around your tender clit as he pressed the vibrator harder inside you. It didn't take long to draw you to the edge again. Fighting the painful pleasure as you sobbed openly now. You knew it was too good to be true, how many times has he taught you that?

Wailing through your second orgasm, you tried to wiggle away. Twisting against your binds, your wrists aching. You couldn't breathe, not between the collar and his relentless tongue. Makarov’s attack on your sex is ruthless, as he always has been. The more you struggled, the tighter he held you. Ignoring your protests in favor of his prize, you. Your addicting submission, desperation and most importantly, your forgiveness. It made him greedy, drunk on his power over you. So he drank and drank until he pulled a third and violent high from you. Squirting messily into his open mouth, thighs squeezing around his ears.

The moment he relented, you dropped limp. Panting like a dog and dazed, barely aware that Makarov had stepped off the bed to remove his clothes. 

“Ты так хорошо справился, ангел.” You heard him say, distantly. Like you were underwater. 

The next thing you registered being the freedom of your hands, tingling as blood finally moved into them freely. Though you barely had time to acclimate as he crawled on top of you. Painfully hard cock resting against your stomach. 

“Sir..?” You whined. Broken and desperate for more, less, him. You weren’t sure. But you knew, whatever it was, he knew, and could give it to you. 

Shushing you uncharacteristically gently, he dragged himself through your slick to your raw opening.  Pausing only to pull the vibrator from your sex and tossing it behind him, still buzzing. 

Vladimir filled you completely. Your walls still tender and throbbing from your last orgasms, making you feel as if he were spearing you. You felt truly flayed and open for him to use. And Makarov took full advantage. Starting a brutal pace, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in. You reached out, your manicured nails finding purchase on his back. Scratching his tattoos as your other hand steadied you against the headboard. Barely preventing him from fucking you through it. 

Vladimir’s head fell into your neck, lips spilling praise. A sloppy mix of Russian and English you couldn't even begin to decipher. Not when he was filling you so full and so deep. Your thighs locked around his hips. You wanted him deeper, closer. You never wanted him to leave. You knew what he did when he was gone. 

Wet fingers met your sopping clit, at a perfectly painful angle. Screaming, you tried to force his hand away, but your arms refused to cooperate. Flailing against him uselessly. “Come with me, шлюха.” He snarled, biting into your neck harshly below your collar. Regardless of your protests, you did. The moment you felt him fill you with his own release. With the ringing in your ears, you couldn't tell if you were screaming.  

Disoriented and… wet, you awoke. You could hear the bath filling as you were lifted into strong arms. “I’m very proud of you.” Makarov murmured. Slowly making his way to the bathroom and settling you in the tub. 

You relaxed for a moment as he left the room. Allowing the warm water to soothe your sore muscles. You reached for your neck and found the collar gone, only tender skin left in its wake. You felt more drunk now than you had when you returned home. The endorphins and adrenaline in your blood making your vision blur.  

When Makarov returned, proudly naked, he held a bottle of water to your lips. Which you greedily drank, slowly feeling your brain return to you. This was when he was most kind, most generous, most unlike himself. When he was freshly drunk on his own pleasure. Slowly he slid in behind you in the tub. Chest pressed to your back, arms holding you close. 

“Thank you, sir.” You sighed. Relaxing fully into him. 

You felt him smile behind you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Of course, I want my ангел to have the most… pleasant birthday.” Slowly his hand trailed down your stomach, reaching your hips before you even thought to protest. Fingers finding your still throbbing clit with practiced precision. Like it was his mission. 

“I- I can’t, wait… Please, sir!” You squealed, twisting against his arm, wrapped tight under your breasts. Water sloshing out of the tub and splattering across the floor. 

“You can, ангел, and you will. One more.”  His tone left no room for argument, though you were well past heeding warnings. Fighting the climax he intended to bring you, until the very last second. Screaming and thrashing in his arms as the agonizing pleasure wracked your body. Leaving you limp and breathless against him. 

“I knew you could do it, good girl.” Makarov purred, running his hands soothingly across your body. 

“Happy birthday, Моя любовь.” 

Translations:

Ангел - Angel

Да - Yes

моя любимая шлюха - My favorite whore

Повернись - Turn around

Всегда такая хорошая девочка - Always such a good girl

Я скучал по тебе - I missed you

мой питомец - My pet

Хороший - good

Хорошенькая маленькая шлюшка - Pretty little slut

Ты так хорошо справился, ангел - You did so well, angel

Шлюха - Whore

Моя любовь - My Love 

[danemia]

lemme rant rq cause this is my diary

so i went to the dr with my mom cause i had the flu (not anymore, but lowk it made me have 0 APPETITE so f@sting during it was easy) but anyway, since my last dr appointment which was over the summer ish so august i think, i lost around 7lbs. (i was wearing layers, water loaded + shoes so def more, probably around 10-15lbs but idrk cause my scale LOVES to change my weight all the time. and my mom ofc noticed (the weight loss in the chart since august) but i blamed it on the flu easy peasy and she’s been trying to buy me snacks and make me eat more which is annoying but she’s trying to be a mom so it’s okay. also im not sure if it’s the 3d brain but i feel like she’s trying to fatten me but i can’t really tell? like she’s offering food more, or maybe she’s not idk. it is now 1:44am, yesterday i fainted a bit so i treated it as a break and ate “normally” fainting + dizziness has gone down and now i feel like a failure, but that’s okay cause today is a new day. also does anyone else hallucinate after long periods of fasting? maybe it’s the sleep deprivation but i genuinely start seeing stuff and it’s lowk scary but maybe that’s another issue, anyway i won’t have access to food from now(1:44)-3pm so the i just have to survive from 3-10pm and that’s a successful day + thinking like that helps me sm (like every hour of fasting counts) right now im having a celsius (caffeine my beloved appetite suppressant) and im pulling an all nighter and hopefully will crash at 3ish so i sleep most of the day to prevent boredom eating and honestly fasting is just easy if you distract yourself, i think the main issue with me and fasting is i get bored sooooo easily and then eat, not even cause im hungry js bored tbh, but water and games help that. idek what im saying. ugh my insomnia gets so bad when im restricting. also another thing i think th1nspo and m3anspo genuinely do NOY work for me, idk why. like my main motivation is myself cause really im the only one who knows everything i want changed about my body and speaking of omg i have to go the beach on my birthday trip im so scared brooo. well idk if i have to go but i think my family is going and we’ll see tbh, it’s like mid decemeber so this month i genuinely need to lock in like i keep on fasting but then having to break it around 48hrs and it’s annoying, okay THIS fast i won’t stop (and will actually have vitamins and whatnot) also vitamin recs? i feel like the vitamins i take while fasting do not do anything tbh, anddd i have been rambling but it’s giving me smth to do so love u all stay safe ! ONE MORE THING LMAOO green tea is so good and has helped my bloating sm everyone go make a tea rn (it also has caffeine in it) also caffeine helps constipation (at least for me) for all the 4n4s who struggle with that! and green tea is like a subtle laxative, CELSIUS is like a full on one, i drank one a while ago but haven’t had any…bowel movement, but to be fair i did poop this evening and wow i sharing SO much information 😻 ! but yeah it’s way better than actual lax imo, lax makes my stomach hurt ALL day but maybe it’s the kind? I’ve only ever used ducloax or smth like that and it hurts so much omg i might just never take them again, im gonna finish this celsius then make some green tea i wonder how okay anyway

tldr: idek where to start

[britneyshakespeare]

The thing about a fainting spell is that there are a lot of symptoms I’ve had over the years of various illnesses but there’s just nothing like all the sudden wiping out and being in a limbo of involuntary and unexpected unconsciousness for like. Who knows? There are a lot of things I’ve gone through in my life that I “had no control of” or had no feasible means to make better for myself, at least not by myself, but fainting. Wow. It’s like being in a vice of the living world and the dead. And after it happens, after you crawl pathetically back to bed or your life or whatever you were doing (certainly the time of day it takes place matters a lot)... for the next however many hours you’re just sitting there like “well that happened. Sucked a lot.”

Funny. I was thinking just yesterday about how it had been awhile (almost a year) since I had a good old fashioned fainting spell. And the last time I had one I didn't even think I was dying like a lot of other times I've had them in the past. Well then last night (tonight? Today?) between 2 and 3 in the morning I went to the bathroom, washed my hands, was thinking "man this feels like so much effort I'm so tired" when I turned around to dry them, and then I realized I was on the floor somehow in the fight of my life with the perception of consciousness again.

[polyamorouspunk]

The first time I ever heard the phrase “pick your battles” was when I was about 12 years old in eight grade. The grade above us was filled with kids who drank and smoked and did drugs and the grade below us was filled with kids having sex in public bathrooms and somehow we were stuck in the middle, reaping the restrictions put on us for crimes we didn’t commit. One of these being that we were not allowed any personal bags in our wing.

Now, if you’re like me, you carry a *lot* of shit. I mean, there’s textbooks, reading books, food, water, phone, pens and pencils, an eraser that actually works, FeMiNiNe hYgIeNe pRoDuCtS, and idk? Random other shit? Too much to reasonably carry from class to class in your arms and pockets.

So my friends and I wore bags. Purses, if you will, though I hated that term because it was a bit too girly for me, and my “purses” came from the military surplus store. In fact, I still have the last one I got from there. Regardless, my point being that we wore personal bags to carry our shit in.

Except that wasn’t allowed because kids *before* us would sneak their alcohol and shit with them in bags.

Now, nowhere in the handbook did it say we weren’t allowed to have bags- trust me, we checked. Our parents helped us take up the cause- us being me and my 2 friends. But our teachers collectively decided we were not allowed to have them in our wing, they had to stay in our lockers. And so we asked: how them are we to transport them outside of our wing if our lockers are in said wing. If we can’t have them in the hallway how can we have them outside the hallway if we have to store them in the lockers in this hallway.

One day my teacher who had a soft spot for us pulled me aside. He told me he knew that I was on a campaign against this, but that sometimes we need to pick our battles. I had never heard of this phrase, so I sat on it for about .5 seconds before saying “then I’m going to pick this battle and continue fighting it.”

I understand now what he means though. We can’t change everything that we want to. There are so many causes out there, so many things that we should be aware of. But we’ll burn ourselves out trying to take them all on ourselves. It’s been said before to pick a few causes you really feel passionate about and focus on those because you can do more for change when you aren’t stretched out thin.

Beyond that, though, I think we need to pick and choose our battles because realistically there are not just things we can win, and at the end of the day some things *are* more important than others.

We live in a surveillance state. That’s clear in a lot of countries, including the US, but that’s clear on a global level. While this sucks, at least here in the US, it really seems like not enough people care to fight it. Hell, people are actively bringing surveillance devices into their homes in the name of convenience. Realistically, overturning our surveillance state doesn’t seem likely. While it’s a battle that’s noble to fight, it’s probably in vain.

But think about when Roe v Wade was overturned. How much outrage it caused. How much outrage it’s still causing. Enough people are fighting that there is hope to rectify it, I think. And when it comes down to it, if you have to pick a battle to “not be surveilled” or to “legalize life-saving medical treatment (again)” one of those seems a lot more pressing and important than the other.

It’s okay to personally put causes on the back burner. It’s okay to not reblog every single “awareness” or “woke” post you see. You’re not obligated to fight every fight. Even just reblogged activism post after activism post can be draining. It’s okay to take a step back, take a break. Don’t forget about these struggles. Keep them in the back of your mind. Maybe go back and reblog them later. But don’t burn yourself out fighting too many battles, especially if they’re losing one. Focus on a few, solid, tangible changes you can make: being kind to strangers; donating goods, services, and money; volunteering; teaching children; etc. and if you have the energy go above and beyond that. You can make a difference just by being kind. You don’t have to fix every single problem. But together we can fix a few at a time.

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

ok similar to my last req

Very scary yet hot m!greaser doing hot, tuff things and is blissfully unaware of the affect he has on the gang + Curly and Tim

what is their reactions—

Lmao I freaking love this starzzzz

Without further ado:

Scary n’ hot m!greaser unknowingly teasing the gang + Tim/curly Shepard and their reactions!!

Ponyboy Curtis

-ok but he’s so flustered

-when you lean back in your seat, running your hands through your hair

-smoking your cigarette

-not even realizing hot goddamn fine you look

-he averts eye contact, it even feeling disrespectful to look at you in that position

-“You alright, Pony?” You’d say, smirking a bit when you see his fluster

-“Y-Yessir…”

Johnny Cade

-his eyes grow pretty damn wide

-and his breathing is panic attack level

-when he sees you taking off your shirt on a hot Oklahoma day

-he tries to hide his blush a bit

-and definitely fails

-and this gets worse n worse as you flex your muscles lifting something heavy

-he just can’t help but think of… what other things those arms are capable of

-he tries to be sneaky glancing at you and be nonchalant but you definitely catch on

-so you bite your lip a little, running your hand through your hair

-with a slight, cruel smirk

-“You good, Johnnycake?”

-he nervously shakes his head, his face only getting redder when you use his nickname

-“Y-yeah”

Sodapop Curtis

-ok he’s used to being the one to tease

-the charmer

-not to mention you’re a pretty scary guy

-but sodas never been scared of you

-he teases you like a friend, always giving you his charming grins and jokes

-but when you lean against the doorframe, in that position

-GODDAMN

-he would slightly blush, and avert his glance elsewhere

-he’d be a lot more quieter than usual, he knows if he talks he might say something

-about how damn good you look and it’s making him weak in the knees

-“Ya ok, Soda? Sure ain’t the chatterbox you usually are.”

-“Uh, yeah. Just uh…” he’d reach over to the cash register “Counting n stuff…”

-it would only take one glance up and down for you to realize what’s happening to him

-“Gee soda, sure is hot now, ain’t it?”

-youd take off your shirt, tossing that to him

-“Be a good boy and hold that for me, would ya?”

-he has the stupidest grin

Darry Curtis

-you two have become pretty close friends

-he’s not stupid enough to start shit with you

-and he doesn’t realize he feels another way

-until he sees you, and how you look

-running your hand through your hair, biting your lip in concentration

-you’re helping him with taxes, you know it’s his least favorite time of the month

-he tries to shove those thoughts about you deep deep down

-but instead, he conveniently blurts out: “That’s hot.”

-you turn to him, smirking a bit “Whatd you just say, Dar?”

-“I-it was nothin. Nothin important.”

-it definitely was and he was a bit flustered for the rest of the night

Dallas Winston

-damn.

-he ain’t gonna let it bother him

-the fact that you lookin so good leaning back in your chair, manspreading as you smoke your cigarette

-your shirt unbuttoned just enough to be suggestive

-he tries not to look downward, exactly where his eyes want to go

-he would curse under his breath

-you don’t even know what you’re doing to him

-sitting like that in front of him

-he’s so turned on, but he ain’t showing that

-he’s not letting you have that leverage over him

-until he stares a bit too long

-“Ain’t my eyes up here, Dal?”

-he got caught, red handed… or red eyed?

-he looks up slowly, smirking a bit

-“Maybe…. But maybe I wanna look elsewhere”

Two Bit Mathews

-hot damn

-you’d just drank water, and missed a little

-and it drips down your chin, neck, and your chest…

-and your shirt is of course off, gods why

-he grins and smirks at you

-looking you up and down, laughing playfully

-“Not bad, big boy…”

-you’d roll your eyes and have to resist the urge to throw a fist at him again

-but you smirk, liking the attention secretly

-most likely besides Dal and Tim to make out

Steve Randle

-you’re working on cars with him one day

-a hot summer day

-and naturally you have your shirt off

-he doesn’t mind, he does too

-until you playfully suggest that you should throw water on each other

-and he does it, but FUCK

-you, your body slicked and oiled with the water, running your hands though your hair

-it’s a sight

-tried to act disinterested but damn he’s checking you out every chance he gets

-“Like what you see, Stevie?”

-he goes back under the car, grumbling “Yeah… maybe…”

Tim Shepard

-as yk

-he’s into tough scary men he wants to fight yall

-and have you on his team fr

-so whenever you drape yourself life a damn painting in that chair

-holding that golden bottle of whiskey, slowly sipping it

-FUCK

-he smirks, and walks over to you

-“Why are you sittin’ in that chair? My laps right here.” He’d say

-you smirk and roll your eyes, patting your own lap

-he doesn’t obey anyone, and you’re one of the few people he will

Curly Shepard

-hot damn

-he knows you from his brothers gang

-you’re the tuffest in the gang, the real secret weapon

-you got everyone in Tulsa shakin in their boots with the right look

-and when he sees you training

-punching that bag, all sweaty with a towel thrown over your shoulder

-shit

-he gets now why people shake around you

-although he maybe is doing that in a different way

-with his internal dialogue, he doesn’t realize he’s been staring for five minutes straight

-“You need somethin’ Curl?”

-he looks at you, and for the first time in his life he feels a mix of scared and horny

-confusing for him, he’s usually the scary one

-“U-Uh… nope.”

-he gets out of there real fast

[julienbakerpls]

julien definitely has a thing for biting

photo by @/Tomrathphoto on ig

Up against the wall with me - Part One 18+

THIS IS RPF IF YOU DONT LIKE IT DONT READ IT ✨✨✨

request- just going to a party w jb and her getting like hot and bothered by you dancing on her in front of everyone!

yeah i’m femme so grinding is like a thing for me lol like maybe bathroom sex at the party idk

One of your favorite things about Julien was watching her be completely herself, because she usually has her guard up so it's rare. There are typically only two times when she lets herself be completely free, when she was on stage with her boys, and right now. Julien was only ever complexly relaxed when she was getting lost in the music. You were currently sat at the bar watching Julien dance and be goofy with her friends, smiling to yourself over how silly she let herself be with them. The boys had just preformed their last US show of the tour and everyone was letting loose.

Julien finally took a break from dancing walking over to you and wrapping her hands around your hips, she was standing in between your legs so she had perfect access to burry her face in your cleavage.

"Jay!" you laughed feeling her smile into your chest. She pulled away looking up into your eyes and placed a kiss to your breast. You smiled shaking your head, before handing her your water to drink from. She drank the entire thing before licking her lips subconsciously, turning you on. She kissed you before saying something about going to find Phoebe.

-

After about 20 minutes you were getting kinda bored just waiting for Julien to get back so you went to find her and phoebe. You looked around the club that their management had rented out and tried to find them, you found phoebe quickly considering her partner was like 20 feet tall but no Julien..

You walked around the club 3 times before you spotted her talking to the bassist from the band that was playing with boygenius tonight. She was like 5 foot 11 and extremely gorgeous and had been flirting with JB every chance she got, much to your annoyance. Honestly it's not like you could blame her, even in just a tank and dickies Julien looked like sex on legs.

You knew you had nothing to worry about, Julien was the most loyal partner ever, but you couldn't help feeling slightly jealous and wanting to make Julien a little jealous too. Because one thing about Julien that not a lot of people know, is that she can be very possessive when it comes to you. You watched the interaction a bit more, laughing when you could tell Julien didn't want to be there anymore, but was just too nice to say anything.

You made your way onto the dance floor, letting your body move to the music, swinging your hips the way you know drives Julien crazy. You saw Julien look over doing a double take when she saw you, Her eyes raked down your body pausing on you hips before her heated gaze made it to your face. You smiled at her letting your hips swing back and forth, getting Julien hypnotized.

Halfway through the song you felt hands on your hips, turning to see Lucy behind you. The two of you laughed, Lucy pulling your hips more into hers.

"God, JB looks feral." Lucy whispered in your ear, turning the two of you slightly giving Julien a better view. You looked over to her still standing with the bassist looking like you were about to get fucked within an inch of your life.

You smiled to yourself watching Julien, walk towards you not saying goodbye to the bassist. The music changed to a talking heads song.

"Mind if I cut in, Luce?" Julien asked, like you were in cotillion. Lucy laughed, sticking to the bit and kissing your hand before shaking Juliens. You couldn't help the smile on your face as you turned to julien seeing her also smiling. She turned to you her face going serious, pulling your body into hers. Her breathing was heavy on your neck, as you felt her bite down.

"Jay," You gasp, pressing yourself onto her thigh, at the same time pressing yours between hers.

"Shelby probably thinks i'm the biggest asshole and it's all your fault," Julien Huffs out.

"Well, considering her name is definitely not shelby, i don't think it's all my fault.." Your laugh turning into a moan halfway through when she presses her thigh at the perfect angle.

"Yeah well I was so turned on by you I must have missed it," Julien says, grinding down onto your thigh, and kissing you roughly. You moan into her mouth, feeling her tongue press against yours.

"Did watching me dance get you wet, baby?" You whisper against her lips, pulling her hips down roughly against your thigh. Julien whined into your mouth, biting down on your lower lip.

"Everything about you fucking gets me wet," Julien said, kissing and biting down your neck, her hands moving from your hips up your body squeezing your breasts before cupping your face in both of her hands.

"Jay, people are watching," you whine, trying to kiss her but being held in place by her hands. The song changed in the background to something by the cure.

"I really don't care about other people right now.." Julien said biting down on your shoulder.

"Fuck," You gasp out, rolling your hips into hers.

"I love you so much baby, but i'm so horny right now i'm going to fuck you like I hate you." Julien smiles, placing a sweet kiss to your lips, before grabbing your hand and tugging you towards the bathroom. You follow her behind her in what feels like a daze, you love when JB gets like this so much.

"Anyone in here?" Julien called pushing open the bathroom door, she waited for an answer getting none. She pulled you in before locking the door, pushing you up onto the sink.

Julien spreads your thighs making room for her between them, her mouth finding yours instantly.

"You're so fucking sexy, Jay," you moan out kissing her roughly, and thanking god that you wore a skirt.

Juliens hands slide under your skirt pulling your panties down, groaning when she feels how soaked the lace is.

"You're dripping down your legs princess, you want me to clean you up?" Julien purrs against your lips. The noise that comes out of you is downright pornographic. You watch as she smiles, biting her lip and pushing her hair away from her face.

"C'mere Princess, let's see how sweet you are for me." Julien murmurs pulling one of your legs over her shoulder, and licking a flat stripe up your wet crease before parting your folds and sucking on your clit. She pulls away to bite your thigh before licking the wetness off. You moan watching her lick your thighs clean, before pushing her tongue into you. She fucks her tongue in before going back to massaging your clit. You gasp running your fingers through her hair, and pushing yourself more onto her face.

"Jay, please," You moan out braising yourself up against the mirror. Julien pulls away from you, standing up your leg still over her shoulder. Julien smiles sweetly at you tracing her fingers over your lips, using her index finger to part them. You suck them into your mouth, running your tongue over them, getting them nice and wet. The sound of Type O Negative's Love you to death, fades in from the club.

"You're so perfect, look at you all spread out for me, sucking on my fingers like a good girl." Julien says looking into your eyes, You watched her pop the button on her jeans sliding her other hand into them and massaging her clit. She pulled her fingers from your mouth, grabbing your other leg and pulling it onto her shoulder. She pressed the fingers you sucked to your clit massaging it, before pushing them into you and fucking you at a rough pace.

Your hips involuntarily buck up into her hand, her other hand coming out of her pants and pressing you down onto the counter. Her fingers wet on your hip, causing you to throw your head back against the mirror. You wince but quickly forget the pain as she speeds up her fingers now pressing the palm of her hand against you clit. You moan pulling her face to yours and kissing her, it's sloppy and heated and you can taste yourself on her lips.

Julien adds a third finger, you moan into her mouth unable to catch a deep breath and loosing the ability to kiss her completely.

"Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me?" Julien says against your neck, her breathing heavy, you feel your legs start to shake, your hands wrapping around her shoulders.

"Jay, I-" You gasp out, your whole body tensing up. Julien fucks you though your orgasm, you watch as she pulls her fingers from between your thighs and up to her mouth. You moan and pull her towards you, trying to kiss her but she resists because she still has her fingers in her mouth. She moans around her fingers, slowly pulling them from her mouth, you moan to the sight almost too much.

"You taste so good, princess." Julien smiles, kissing you slowly, before kissing your forehead.

"Jay, I need you," You whine pulling her towards you, Julien laughs gently pushing your legs off of her shoulders.

"Aw you need me baby?" Julien pouts, pulling your panties up your legs and helping you off the sink, your legs still shaking.

"Jay-" You're cut off by another kiss, Julien pushes you against the bathroom door.

"Let's get you back to the hotel room." Julien says against your lips, unlocking the bathroom door and opening it. The prettiest star by David Bowie streams in from the now open door, and you think it's fitting because you're looking at her.

[kuwdora]

ao3 wrapped: 3, 12, 25!

eeeee these are good numbers, thank you for the ask nic!

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Some Kind of Disaster my TWN Season 3 missing scene fic with Yen and Jaskier is the one I’m most proud of this year. (Though to be fair I only managed to finish/post 4 fics this year so it’s a small pool… But still!) This fic hits all of the emotional beats that had been swirling in my head for a few years now, so I was over the moon when I got to the end of the fic and it was done and it was everything I wanted. Such a great feeling to see it into the world.

12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

The number of WIPs are always too many. Prioritizing my WIPs is hard at the best of times, heh. I had maybe 6-7 active WIPs in the past year that I didn’t finish. On top of a few more new WIPs and ideas that wanted to be WIPs. Hard to stay focused.

As I said in previous ask, I have a yennskier nonsexual kink fic to work on. Since I’m still very much in witcher mode regardless of time between seasons.

But I still have my 20k+ Ciri fic that I really want and need to revisit. I have 30k+ more Jaskier fic that I yearn to work on. It's really matter of me poking @littlestsnicket and maybe enlisting some other folks to wave pompoms in my periphery to remind me that I want to go chasing that’ finishing-a-longfic/series feeling.’ I forever need to practice sharing more WIPs on main.

I may try to finish and post a little radskier ficlet I wrote in…idk I want to say March? And then there’s a Vilgefortz ficlet that I started last year, too that I think could be within finishing distance.

25. Did you receive any gifts this year?

I have a BOUNTY of gifts from this year! Like, so many. So blessed, everyone is having so much fun and I'm loving it all. Strap in, I got a squeeful recs list for you all.

Chantress did a podfic of my TWN Triss/Yenna ficlet Germinate which was a complete and wonderful surprise and is so, so lovely.

@astaldis did a remix of one of my Yennefer/Jaskier drabbles and it’s so great! It’s called Completion, very sexy feelings and hottness.

@she-who-drank-vodka-with-cats picked up a prompt I shared in the Smubbles server for some Meve/Reynard Thronebreaker awesomeness. It’s called the benefits of a prince consort. My prompt was: meve/reynard foot massage and comfort. ❤️❤️❤️

@sassaffrassa wrote me a smutty Geralt/Jaskier edging drabble called Stamina and it's of course 🔥🔥🔥🔥 Sass also wrote me Scavenger’s Reign Azi/Levi sex pollen drabble called flowering because robot yuri and sex pollen!!!!! If ever an an alien planet would have sex pollen, it would be Vesta. 🔥🔥🔥

@flootzavut gifted me a Jaskier fic called you do not get to hurt me which was a lovely surprise, lots of queer Jaskier messy feelings. I had a great time tossing the idea ball back and forth with flooty on this one when they were a little stuck on it. And the finished fic is so great and achey and I want to roll around in the Jaskier feelings all the time. Love you flootyfloots. I was bamboozled with love and utter surprise when I got an AO3 notification saying I was gifted a Stargate work. From none other than MSSalieri/troyswann who has been archiving their SG fic over the last few years. It’s an Elizabeth Weir and Daniel Jackson fic inspired by a prompt I offered Salieri several lifetimes and platforms ago. Salieri is an author and artist I have loved for an eternity, and I spent a lot of time reading and studying her fic when I was also first starting out writing fic. Trying to figure out how to do this prose thing. Really, just amazing…so much in a short fic. Reactivating the dormant Stargate feelings. The fic is called Unknown Waters. my prompt I had given Sal: If one tries to navigate unknown waters one runs the risk of shipwreck.

And then. There’s @ialwayscomewhenyoucall. Lira. Lira! Who I am constantly egging on with my Doctor Who Ten/Jack prompts in the @smubbles-etc discord server. Lira is just as delighted by my prompts as I am fucking excited to see what she comes up with. I’ve dumped approximately 200 million Doctor Who Ten/Jack prompts into the server this year. She’s been making me feel like a winner, lol. Lira is frolicking with prompts and I’m kicking my feetsies. ALSO Lira, have you made any headway on that Ten/Jack having sex performance for a paying alien audience prompt? Maybe for Smubble’s Wanksmas event? :D

Doctor Who Ten/Jack drabbles by LiraelClayr007:

Roses are Red - prompt: jack in lingerie. doctor admiring.

Black and (TARDIS) Blue - prompt: atyptical bruising patterns that jack is really into and wants more of immediately.

Different Body, Same Hearts - prompt: jack/ten reunion blowjob, the thrill of it all after so long.

Working together - a remix of my Refrain fic - Jack wants more. The Doctor is happy to give it to him.

You Can Wait - remix of my Syllable ficlet - Jack isn't allowed to come until the Doctor does.

From his knees - remix of my Reverence ficlet - Jack worships the Doctor.

Tether - The Doctor is spiraling after saying goodbye to Rose and his other self. Jack sees, and knows how to help. (not my prompt but lira's gotten so spun up from all my other prompts that I am still getting the goodies, ehehe)

The Doctor’s Song - Jack loves the sounds the Doctor makes. (not my prompt but still my joy !!!)

It’s a New Day - During sex, Jack asks the Doctor a question. He's surprised by the answer (not my prompt but still my gift, yes yayay)

❤️❤️❤️ I didn't manage to write/finish/post as much fic as I would have liked but I still had a great time with all the ideas and words from my brilliant friends. Here's to another year of awesome fic.