#dab review

[daboyau]

Every time I see someone bookmark or subscribe or leave kudos on one of my years old unfinished fic i sit there and wonder. Do they know? Are they aware that they have the power to inspire me to finish this fic? It is right there at their fingertips, waiting to be typed out. Everything I write is one good comment away from the motivation and inspiration being re-sparked.

[hballegro]

HALLOWEEN POST

GUESS WHAT. rocky horror came out in 1975

and beetlejuice came out in 1988

both before 1999. which means theyre FAIR GAME

i am INCREDIBLY TIRED

here they are with no shading or cigar smoke or void background

not a lot of BTS but ill kick it off by the very first thought i had when i saw a clip of frank-n-furter was al saying 'its a pity they didnt have the wet look in the 60s because you would look GREAT with wet lips' and then this

al ended up as beetlejuice solely because i went 'stupid suit. lecherous behaviour. teleports. yeah that works'

sam was Struggle Struggle Struggle Oh I Got It

al was ONLY Struggle Struggle Struggle

this is despite the fact that

onto normal bts

i am very tired! this squeezed me very much! but i enjoyed drawing sam's makeup and al's uh. bread mold or something. what the hell do you call the green stuff. anyway that was enjoyable

can you tell that its sam and al? at this point, I CAN! AND THATS ALL I GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ANYMORE OUGHHHH

im now going to go play videos game or something to relax. this was fun but i am TOIRED

i was trying to give al the look where u have dark hair and apply that weird... paint shit? to make ur hair lighter? temporary dye thats like. clay-ish. you get it, you know what i mean. thats what i was going for.

pretty sure i just ate some wax via eating m&ms out of a candle holder my classmate gave me.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

[discoshhtick]

It's really interesting to me how varied the reviews on veilguard are - I've seen so many people praise it, talking about how amazing it is. Both new and old fans - but just as many people saying how terrible it is and filing for a refund after 2-3 hours.

I fall somewhere in the middle of that rn, I'm nowhere near the end of the game and have been disappointed by a massive pile of things in it - but also see some good in it still. I love the characters above all, even with some really, really painfully awkward and badly written dialogue. If all of the dialogue was that I would've probably dropped the game, thankfully there's both good and bad dialogue. Some of it works, while some absolutely does not.

Above all to me it truly does feel like a dragon age game bc I have to overlook a pile of jank to find the enjoyable bits LMAO, that for me has been the experience with all of the games

[gostonerlife]

How to not be me part one: make sure your camera is charged, and make sure all cat hair is off your dab tool🤣🤦‍♂️ but hey, it was tasty AF. Jamming to @grumblebeeuk using the @dankbangerofficial dab tool. Hope you all enjoy and stay lit.

[chaoticelectron]

Short stories!

Hi I am back :) and this time with short stories!! I realised reading manhwas and webnovels is not the way to live so I am reading whatever physical book I have left unread. Fortunately I have a collection of short stories which I will be reading and share how I feel since I need some place to gush hehe. Maybe I'll tag them together, no fancy analysis but spoiler free gushing (hopefully)

[iamthepulta]

I am BACK and i have my DRAWING TABLET and I am going to MAKE MAPS and I feel GREAT and I ACCEPTED THE OFFER TO GRAD SCHOOL

/DAB

[ajmeltdiaries]

41. CTC, aka Chi Town Chem (IC Collective) Live Resin

I picked this up along with her rosin sister so that I could compare the two, and I'm glad I did. At the time it had been awhile since I'd stepped off the solventless path, and I'll admit I was hesitant to purchase a live resin again, after prior experiences with bargain brand bullshit from MI that really shouldn't be called "live resin". Anyway, IC's is not that. It's legit. As this entry complements my rosin entry, a lot of notes are copied over.

Family, I believe

Chem

P: Chemdog 91 (1, 2) By IC

GP: Chemdog 91 (2, 3) By Chemdog via IC

CTC (Chi Town Chem) is a relative grandchild of original Chemdog 91, cultivated and further bred by IC Collective. They call the pheno "3 Dots", and I'm not sure of the significance, although it does neatly represent the city it's branded after.

Keynotes:

https://www.iccollective.com/ctcstrain

https://www.iccollective.com/cd91

https://www.alchimiaweb.com/blogen/chemdog-story/

Form, as seen

This is like raw sugar set into molasses, with its large crystals and thick sauce. Not my favorite for handling small doses, but it globs fine. The jar was either sloppily filled or mishandled at some point, as the sauce coated all the interior surfaces, leaving sticky residue on my gloves every time. Upon dabbing, she melts clear at low temps and begins to darken north of 500°F.

Flavor, as tasted

Complex

Like the rosin, the resin tastes different at different temperatures (quintessential Chem!), described below. The facet I found most distinctly satisfying was bright green apple candy, which I also get in IC's Fox River Chem, another of their wonderful phenos. In contrast to the rosin, by way of comparing forms, the resin is notably brighter and more sedative. I'm not sure if this is because of the matrix differences or specifically the terpene profiles (or both!). It is really cool to observe.

Aroma starts off bright, sour, and gassy. There is a hint of sweet cookie/earth in the background. My initial impression was that it smells like good Chem. Now, at the end of the jar, I'm satisfied with that call!

The following tasting notes are from my Victoria D banger with diamondium cap and pearl.

At 510°F, CTC tastes Prototypical (Floral, Gas, Earth). She starts with a sweetness that transitions to gas and florals as spice begins to come forward. These continue to swirl into a long, green, almost savory finish.

At 525°, the profile is Prototypical (Dank, Gas, Chem). This is most like what I think people would regard as chemical or savory, but I can distinguish a transition much like that at 510 but more dank than sweet. This temp is great for .1g doses and is kind of like a concentrated version of the experience at 510.

At 550°, the profile is Sweet (Floral, Spice, Cookies)! I think this temp is near the last stop in flavor town before tasting burnt. The sulfurs sweeten up, turning the gas to cookies and the dank to baking spice with accents of fruit and citrus. This temp is not great for small doses! Burnt resin tastes uniquely gross.

Felt Effects

A little racier than the rosin! But like the rosin, the resin is a great expression of Chem effects. Balanced but strong head and body medicine that both boosts my mood and drops my roots. Dogbud & chemweed, man. I did find the resin to be more sedating than the rosin at higher doses, which is helpful.

Effect: Strength of Evidence (0=None, 5=Optimal) Energy/Amplify: 5 Relaxation: 4 Relief: 4 Sleep: 5 Haze: 5 Lock: 3

Final Thoughts

I'm so glad I did a flight of CTC! It gave me a gracious break from Fort Solventless without involving distillate. This was a very encouraging purchase at its price point, too. I'm glad to know I can trust in IC's resin when I'm down to beans. While the form wasn’t my favorite, the smoke was smooth without the usual LR throat tickle, the flavor showed off the strain’s brighter/fruitier tones, and the effects were clean. Not sure I would pick this over the rosin, but they compare well, and that is just my bias.

melt shot x anthonyjames

I’m old enough to be clueless with a ring light, but I’m trying!

Can we make this night last? Side bet in Idalou

[supbreh]

My man and I have been smoking on West Coast cure pens almost exclusively for the past 4 months. Almost every strain/flavor we've tried has a good flavor, and of the over hundred pens we've gotten from them so far, none have broken, and only 4 or 5 have gotten a bit clogged, but we were able to get every last drop from all of them. Strength is good on all of them, though the flavored ones like "Lucky Charms", "Strawberry Cream" and the like weren't as strong as the traditional strains. Strength and taste wise, the best flavored one was Strawberry Cream. Of the traditional strains, Gas OG, Skywalker and Blue Dream were our top picks. All around the worst was Gelato, flavor and strength wise. The #1 was Grape Ape.

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ in which: itoshi sae feels inferior to itoshi rin; even if for just a moment

includes: itoshi sae! x fem reader. 1.7k wc. fluff and humour (i promise the title is just dramatic). silly itoshi brothers but we love them. kind of ooc rin. includes some swearing but it's meant to be lighthearted <3

itoshi rin being sick was somehow more of an inconvenience to sae than it was to rin himself. his brother falling ill during his stay at sae’s place was already a disgusting coincidence. now, sae had to watch the unfortunate scenes unfold in front of him without a choice.

“woah, you’re burning up, rin,” your voice filled the room, holding the thermometer up to check it again, your voice laced with concern. rin only nodded, his quiet nature amplified by the haze of his fever. his half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks made him look pitiful, almost drowsy.

to sae, it was nauseating how pathetic he looked—and worse, how effective it was.

“here, i got you medicine,” you said, helping him sit up from a lying position. “say ahh,” you sang sweetly, holding an ibuprofen capsule to rin’s lips and following up with a glass of water. he obediently parted his lips without a word, swallowing with a slight grimace but no complaints.

meanwhile, sae stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, scowling like a cat. rin must have it so damn good right now, he thought bitterly. crashed out on his bed, coughing like a mess, and worst of all—being pampered by you! him spreading germs all over the room was annoying enough, but the fact that you were doting on him? that was the real problem. sure, rin was sick, but did you have to treat him like royalty? it made sae feel almost childish how much it irked him. he knew you were just being you—kind, caring, and attentive. you weren’t a complete jerk like sae; of course, you’d take care of your boyfriend’s little brother.

but still, the sight of you meticulously adjusting rin’s pillow, tucking him snugly into the blanket you and sae usually shared, and gently brushing his hair out of his face like he was some spoiled kid—it was enough to drive sae up the wall. and if all that wasn't bad enough, now you were feeding him. feeding him.

rin opened his mouth again without so much as a sigh, his quiet compliance somehow making the scene even worse. sae glared as you dabbed the corner of rin’s mouth with a tissue, your expression always remaining soft and tender.

sae’s patience finally cracked as he scoffed. “pick up your own damn spoon,” he muttered under his breath.

you finally tore your gaze from rin to look at sae, laughing lightly. “it’s okay, sae. he’s sick. it doesn’t bother me.” it didn’t bother you, but it sure as hell bothered him. watching rin quietly accept another spoonful while sae fumed in the corner felt like a fresh insult every second.

“is the soup good? i tried my best,” you asked, giving the bowl another stir, awaiting his answer. your expression was so stupidly expectant that it effortlessly tugged at sae’s heart. rin, naturally, noticed the way his older brother’s jaw tightened from the corner of his eye, sae’s glare sharp enough to cut through steel—nonverbally screaming at him to be nice. rin wasn’t dumb—he knew better than to even consider giving a bad review of your cooking, especially with sae simmering in his spot by the door. and besides, the soup was actually delicious. “it’s good,” rin said, glancing at you. he took another spoonful for good measure, his movements deliberately slow, before adding, “it’s like our mom’s cooking.”

your face lit up instantly, a warm smile spreading across your lips. “i’m glad! good thing i asked for her recipe,” you shared, feeling accomplished. then, after a thoughtful pause, rin continued, “nii-chan should try some.” that last line, paired with the smallest, almost imperceptible smirk tugging at rin’s lips as he subtly shifted his posture toward sae, was so perfectly calculated it could’ve been a soccer play. rin didn’t even bother looking at his brother; he didn’t need to. the strained silence from sae’s corner was reward enough.

sae’s knuckles flexed against the doorframe, his patience wearing thinner than ever. try some? was rin actually inviting him to participate in this ridiculous display? no way in hell. you turned to sae with an inviting smile, completely oblivious to the brewing tension. “sae, you can have some if you want. i made more just in case…” his eyes flickered to you for a moment, and he opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a quiet, disgruntled, “i’m fine.”

rin didn’t look up, but his breath released ever so slightly faster—barely perceptible—like he was holding back laughter. and yet, rin wasn’t done being petty. he shifted slightly under the blanket, letting out a low sigh that seemed almost contemplative. “my back hurts.”

he murmured quietly, drawing out the words just enough to give them weight. his gaze flicked briefly to sae—long enough for him to notice—before turning to you with a soft, almost too-casual tone.

“i think i need a massage.”

before sae could even process the audacity, you were already setting the soup aside. “oh no! here, turn around—” “it’s fine,” sae absolutely snaps, stepping forward and snatching you up from the bed. he firmly guided you toward the door. “i got him. just bring a hot towel, will you?” “huh? oh, okay…” you blinked, a bit startled by his sudden intervention, but nodded. “if you need anything—anything—just call, okay?”

you shot rin a sympathetic look as you left, sae’s hand still firm on the small of your back until you were out the door.

the moment the door clicked shut, it was as if rin’s back was in pristine condition—like he was born with the perfect spine. he sat up straight, stretching with ease, his back suddenly requiring nothing but a headboard to rest on. sae responded with nothing except his expression, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer. without a word, sae lifted his leg and dug a kick square to rin’s back. “what the fuck?!” rin hissed, flinching forward. “back pain, huh?” sae asked flatly, mocking his claims. “you’re too old to be attention-seeking, dumbass,” he said, giving him another shove with his foot. “go back to okaasan, since you like being babied so much.” “fuckin’ hypocrite,” rin kicked back with both legs, shoving sae’s leg away with surprisingly good strength for someone whose supposed bones were crackling just a second ago. “you’re the one fuming for her attention.” sae rolled his eyes, unable to accept the fact that he was probably right. “she’s my girlfriend, you fucker,” despite the possibility, he defends, his voice sharper now. “and yet here you are,” rin said smugly, leaning back against the headboard, “competing with a sick kid.” sae opened his mouth to retort but froze. damn it. he was competing. and somehow, rin was winning.

“here’s the towel—” you finally walked in, but not without sensing the tension hanging in the air. “did something happen?…” you quickly remarked, in a suspicious manner. “no.” both rin and sae responded in perfect unison, their tone almost too quick, too practiced. you couldn’t help but feel like you were the only one who wasn’t in on whatever strange, silent competition they were having.

“rin’s feeling better,” sae suddenly spoke out, his voice way too casual, as he bolted for the door. “call if you need anything.” “ah, okay…” you blinked, eyes lingering on him watching him go before shaking your head. maybe you did imagine that awkwardness.

you quickly turned your attention back to rin and handed him the towel. “you should get some rest. i’ll attend to some chores.” rin gave a quiet nod, already looking more comfortable with the towel draped over him. you gave him a smile, relieved to see him at least looking better, before stepping out of the room. you found sae in the kitchen, carefully dishing out a bowl of soup. the act was too adorable; you couldn’t resist. you snuck up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist in a gentle backhug. “what do you want?” sae asked, his voice trying to sound neutral, but you could hear the softness underneath it. you rested your chin on his shoulder, feeling his warmth, and smiled. “why are you sulking?” you asked softly, your tone full of concern. “i’m not,” sae replied, though the words came out more quietly than he intended, a little hint of frustration still there. you could feel his tension, so you just squeezed him a little tighter, letting the silence settle for a beat. “i know you’re worried,” you said, voice gentle and sincere, “but it’s okay. he’ll be fine. i’m making sure of it.” sae remained quiet for a moment, but there was something different in the way his shoulders eased under your touch. he wasn’t used to this kind of reassurance, but somehow it always worked.

there was always something disarming about your presence, the way you seemed to understand him without asking for anything in return. he didn’t quite know what to do with this feeling—this overwhelming need to just be close to you. without making any effort to break the hug, sae's hands gently moved to rest on yours. he turned slightly so he could look at you, his eyes soft and filled with something tender you couldn't quite place. there was a subtle shift as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. he paused, just for a moment, before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. the kiss lingered longer than usual, a silent reassurance in the simple gesture. “i’m not worried,” sae whispered firmly, trying his best to rely his feelings. “since you’re taking care of him, i’ll just take care of you.” you blinked, your chest tightening with warmth at his words. it was rare for sae to lose his guard, and in these moments, his affection always spoke far louder than anything he could say. you could feel the space between you narrowing as he moved even closer, his lips brushing near yours. “isn’t that right?” he whispered, his voice low and filled with a quiet confidence.

AH-CHOO! a loud sneeze rang through the hallway, shattering every sense of peace in the house. sae froze, his entire posture stiffening, as he shot a death glare toward the room where rin was.

god he’s gonna kill him.

a/n: this is such an old draft omg...finally got inspired to publish it bcz i currently feel like sae lmao. still figuring out my writing style so i hope nobody minds the randomness of my works T-T

[yocantech]

Yocan Pillar review by @imhighdamion

Get more on Yocan.com

[moonstruckme]

A Friendly Proposition

Based on this request: Hi mae!!! Would you be open to writing tasm!peter parker or Remus lupin with best friend reader who hasn’t cum before, and he is outraged when he hears this? And he’s like, why don’t I show you (wink wink) -- Thank you for requesting!! I chose Remus for this but I would love to do some Peter smut in the future if anyone has any ideas :)

cw: smut mdni, fingering, not necessarily inexperienced reader but kind of has that vibe, basically smut no plot

bestfriend!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 2.2k words

“I dunno, I guess overall it was fine.” 

“Fine?” Remus looks up from where he’s lying on his bed, one eyebrow lifted in that way you don’t think he knows he does. You’re sitting on the floor in front of his mirror, attempting to cover up a particularly bad hickey your date from last night had left you as a parting gift. His reflection has a wry twist to its mouth. “I should hope it was more than just fine.” 

You shrug, tilting your head to dab at the makeup on your neck. “Not the best, not horrible. I’d call it thoroughly average.” 

Your friend hisses sympathetically through his teeth. “Not the sort of rave review most guys strive for. If I left someone with a mark like that, I’d hope I made it worth their while.” 

You can’t keep your lips from curving. “I didn’t say it wasn’t worthwhile.” 

“Did he at least make you cum?” 

You cough in surprise. “At least?” You turn around, giving him a disbelieving look. 

Remus’ answering expression is equally incredulous. 

“How common do you think that is?” you ask him. 

The eyebrow lifts higher. “Well, now I’m not sure, but I’ve never had any problems.” 

You scoff, turning back to the mirror. “That’s because you’re a guy.” 

“No,” Remus says, amusement tingling in his tone. “I mean, yes, but I meant I’ve never had any problems making other people cum.” 

“Seriously?” You freeze with your hand upheld awkwardly above your neck. You’re doing your best to make this conversation feel casual, but sometimes having an attractive guy for a best friend can get confusing, and the room is starting to feel a tad warm despite the open windows. “Like, what’s your success rate?” 

“What’s yours?” 

“I asked you first.” 

Remus’ lips twitch, fondness beneath his exasperation. “For women specifically?”

“Sure.” 

He nods, expression turning pensive. “I can’t be exactly sure. I mean, it’s not like I’m constantly fucking loads of women.” He says it so offhandedly, but just the language makes a tickle of warmth start up in your cheeks. “There were a couple who didn’t, when I was younger, still learning, but since then it’s been fairly high.” 

You swallow. You wonder what the learning had entailed, what Remus had picked up that you and anyone you’ve hooked up with hasn’t. It’s typically not for a lack of trying, though some certainly invest more time into the ambition than others. You can’t say you’ve even tried that hard yourself, not in a while and not since you’ve reckoned with the idea that it may simply not happen for you. It feels like a pointless exercise. 

You break from your reverie when you notice Remus watching you in the mirror. 

“Your turn,” he prompts. 

“You can’t make fun of me.” 

“You know I wouldn’t.” 

You absolutely do not know that, he loves to tease, but he’s right in that you don’t think he would about this. You catch yourself nibbling on your bottom lip, and stop. 

You do your best to affect his unflappable blasé when you say, “Zero, so far.” 

That blasé hardly holds up now. Remus sits straight up. “Never? Not once?” 

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, so you focus on covering the spot on your neck. “Nope.”

“Not even by yourself?” 

“You make it sound like it’s so easy.” There’s some bitterness in your tone as you tilt your head up, inspecting your work in the light. “I haven’t tried in a while, because I was never able to. I got sick of it.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” 

You try not to melt. Remus will call you that, from time to time, but given the context of your conversation you wish he wouldn’t. Suddenly his room feels a little bit smaller, the atmosphere more private than before.

You look at his reflection, expecting to find teasing in his expression, but it’s thoughtful. Contemplative. 

“You said you wouldn’t make fun,” you remind him. “I feel like that should also include feelings of pity. Let’s not act like it’s some great tragedy to not have cum before.” 

“No, I’m…it’s not that. You’re right, there are worse fates.” One corner of his lips curves slightly, and you mirror him, relieved. “I was just thinking that I could…well, I might be able to help.” 

“What?” A little laugh trips off your tongue. Your face is really feeling warm now. “Do you have some kind of manual or something?”

“Would you want my help?”

“Is there a diagram you’re going to show me? Trust me, I’ve seen those.” 

“Answer the question, love.” 

You set your makeup down, expelling a breath. Meet his eyes in the mirror with a shrug. “Yeah. Sure, I’d be curious.” 

Remus studies you. Analytical hazel eyes and a map of scars you would know blind. “Tell me if this makes you uncomfortable, but I could show you, if you’d like.” 

Your breath seems to stall in your lungs. “On…” you trail off, not wanting to misunderstand him. 

“On you,” he confirms. “Would you want that?” 

You’re nodding before you can think enough to speak. Your head feels slow and fuzzy, like you’re navigating a dream. “Yeah,” you manage. “If you’re alright with that.” 

“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” Remus spreads his legs open on the bed, patting the space between them. “C’mere, love.” 

“What—like, now?” 

“Do you have another engagement?” He gives you a little smile. It squishes the scar underneath his left eye adorably, but when you hesitate he sobers. “Hey, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

You shake your head, and it’s like your body remembers how to move, propelling you up from your seated position. “No, sorry, I’m good with this. I think I’m just a bit nervous.” 

“That’s alright,” he reassures you. “You don’t need to be, though. It’s only me.” 

You see his eyes drop to your mouth, and you let your lip slip from between your teeth a second time. Remus is right. If there’s anyone you should be comfortable learning this with, it’s him. 

When you go to crawl up on the bed, he stops you. “Probably want to lose the pants first,” he suggests. 

Right. You set your fingers to the button, and it seems to fly open of its own regard. You feel Remus’ eyes on you as you slide them over your hips and step out. 

“Underwear too, or…” 

“No, we’ll keep those for now.” Remus holds a hand out for you, and you get up onto the bed, letting him help you settle in between his legs. It’s impossible not to be conscious of the feel of his pants against your bare skin, or how comfortably he wraps a hand around your thigh, pulling it open that much wider. “Do you usually start with everything off?” 

“Yeah,” you say. “Isn’t that sort of the point?”

“Sometimes,” he hums. “Sometimes, though, it helps to work up to it. You need to get warmed up, you know?” 

You murmur an affirmation, though you don’t actually know. There’s never been much warming up when you or anyone else has tried to do this before. But it doesn’t matter, because then Remus starts rubbing the outsides of your thighs with both hands, and any sound dies in your throat. 

“You have to start slow,” he says in a low voice. Scarred, strong hands moving over your skin. “Everyone responds to different things, and it’s about feeling out what works for you.” 

You can’t imagine how this wouldn’t work for anyone. Remus touch starts moving inward, until his long fingers are dragging over your inner thighs, fuelling a familiar warmth at their apex. 

“Are you feeling more relaxed now?” 

You wet your lips. “I think so.” 

“Good. If you’re feeling up to it, you could try touching yourself other places, see what works.” 

Tentatively, you slip one of your hands up your shirt. Your breasts feel more sensitive than usual, and when you squeeze one, combined with Remus’ hands on your thighs, it makes your breath catch. 

“There you go, sweetheart. You’ve got it.” 

Your body starts to slacken against him, but Remus doesn’t seem to mind. He only uses his grip on your thighs to drag you closer, propping you up. You can’t tell which one of you is warmer. 

Without warning, his hand brushes over your mound. You gasp. 

“Is this okay?” Remus asks, his voice closer to your ear than it had been. He gives you another stroke over your panties. 

“Yes,” you breathe out. 

“Alright. Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.” 

One hand continues moving over your thigh while the other drags the fabric of your panties aside, flattening over your cunt. 

“Oh, poor girl,” he coos. “Is all this for me?” 

Your silence must scream mortification, because he chuckles and bumps the side of your head with his affectionately. 

“Sorry, I’m only messing with you. Is it always like this?” 

You lie. “Yeah.” 

Remus hums, dragging two fingers through your folds. You squirm in his lap. Your hand has completely forgotten your breast. 

“I usually start here,” he says, one finger circling your clit. It slips and slides in the mess you’ve already made. “You do the same?” 

You nod fervently. He adds another finger, moving over it gently, and has to tighten his grip on your leg to keep it open. Your breaths start coming faster as he repeats the motion. You can feel him getting hard behind you. 

Just as your pleasure starts to take you under, Remus’ fingers fall away. 

“Your turn,” he says. His voice sounds slightly hoarse. 

When you hesitate, confused and a bit bereaved, he chuckles, taking your hand in his and pressing your fingers to your clit. 

“Show me how you’re gonna do it, sweetheart.” 

Tentatively, you try to copy his movements. Your own fingers feel clumsy and inadequate compared to his, but after all the work Remus has put in they’re still enough. You chase that tightening sensation, hips twitching into your own touch. 

Remus doesn’t leave you on your own for long. His hand finds your cunt again, seeking, it seems, every possible way to drive you to madness. He collects the slick pooling by your entrance, sliding it up and down through your folds, and when his fingers breach your hole you make a soft, surprised sound that sends his lips down onto your shoulder. 

Instantly, you’re aware of how much better this feels. Remus’ mouth is warm and soft, a contrast against the roughness of his stubble. He sucks at you gently, warming you up like he had your cunt, before letting his teeth scrape lightly over your skin. Your date from last night had been so eager to get your neck into his mouth, suctioning onto you like a parasite and rolling your skin between his teeth in a way that hurt more than it helped. Remus is all temperance. He bites you, and then licks it over to make sure you’re soothed. 

The thought occurs to you that maybe you shouldn’t be comparing Remus to someone you actually dated. 

He curls his fingers inside you, and every thought you’ve ever had falls away. All you are is a collection of sensations and wants. 

“You’ve got it, darling, keep going. You’re doing so well.” 

Your fingers and Remus’ working like one mind, until your thighs are shivering and he has to redouble his efforts to keep you still. Your head lolling onto his shoulder, the way his lips transfer to your neck as if it's the most natural thing in the world. His scruff scratching under your jaw, moving as he says your name. 

The myriad of other things he says, sweetheart, baby, good girl, you’re doing so good, growing raspier as the pressure in your core worsens until you worry you’ll shatter if he doesn’t keep ahold of you. 

“Let go,” he instructs, kissing the skin beneath your ear lovingly. “You’re alright, just let go.” 

You choose to trust him, and your body—your being—snaps.

You make sounds you can’t hear, your own fingers stuttering and stopping while Remus works you through the new sensation, murmuring assurances into your skin. Runs his free hand over your trembling thigh. 

Eventually, your mind quiets enough to hear that his breathing is nearly as labored as your own. He slips his fingers out of you. You try to turn around to face him, but your body betrays you, slumping against his front. 

Remus chuckles, smoothing a hand up your side. “Good job, sweetheart. You did beautifully.” He smears a kiss over your cheek. “How was that?” 

You sigh blissfully. Your brain feels pulverized. “Really good.” 

Another soft laugh. “Yeah? Glad to hear it.” 

“Thank you.” You lean your head on his shoulder, trying to look up at him. 

“You’re welcome,” he replies, voice warm with amusement. “Honestly, I should probably be thanking you. I feel quite lucky.” 

You hum bemusedly. Remus’ sex-slicked fingers run lazily over the inside of your thigh. Perhaps your mind is still addled from your orgasm, but this feels incredibly normal to you now. 

“Really? Why?” 

“I just,” he exhales, leaning his head against yours lightly. “I just can’t believe I was the first person to hear you make those sounds.” 

“Oh.” You feel the tickle of embarrassment coming back to you. It draws your shoulders in. “Sorry. Was I very loud?” 

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart.” Remus turns his head, kissing your temple firmly. “You were perfect.” 

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

in modern time he would have a youtube channel 😆

The “Do you think it’s edible?” “No, and please don’t find out.” scene leads me to believe this is not the first time that this exact exchange has happened. And every time Soren does in fact eat the thing.

[yxngbxkkie]

pat down (l.k)

this tik tok is the reason this was written 🫢 i hope it's okay 🫶🏻

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

~

You're waiting for Minho to step back into the waiting room of the studio, knowing they should be here in a few moments. Stray Kids just finished their recent comeback on Music Show Core, and you came to support your boyfriend.

You glance back at the television in the room, seeing the MCs talking to the camera. The door to the room opens up as Minho walks in first. A smile graces your lips, and you take a step towards him.

“You guys did so well!” You almost squeal, throwing your arms around his neck to hug him.

Minho wraps his arms around your waist, and you feel his lips kiss your shoulder. “It looked good?” He asks you, pulling back from you.

Sweat rolls down his cheeks and neck, and you turn to grab a paper towel. His eyes meet yours just as you pat his face. Your gaze travels to his, and you instantly feel flustered.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask him in a whisper, bringing the towel down to his neck, patting it gently.

“Like what?” Minho whispers back, his hand resting on your waist.

The tips of your ears burn, and your eyes widen slightly. “There's no way this is how you look when your stylists pat your face,” you mumble and bite your lip.

A smirk comes to his lips, his grip on your waist tightening a bit. “And what if it is?” He raises an eyebrow, looking down at you.

“If I was your stylist and you looked at me like this, I'd want you to kiss me,” you say to him, bringing your free hand to his face.

“That's against the rules,” Minho whispers, leaning his face closer to yours.

Your eyes flutter shut when your noses brush together. “I'll have to resist then,” you mutter while running your fingers through his hair.

He laughs and he tugs your body close. “But can you? You love it when I kiss you,” he grins, placing a feathery kiss on your cheek.

“Do you two have to do this?” Seungmin asks with a disgusted look. Neither of you replies to him, too caught up in each other. He shakes his head, grabbing his water before leaving the room.

“Keep dabbing, baby,” Minho's voice snaps you from your daze. “I need to go back in a few minutes.”

You clear your throat, beginning to pat his skin dry. “You're enjoying this too much,” you giggle while shaking your head.

His hand glides up your back, a chuckle escaping his lips as well. “You like it too,” he mentions, his free hand resting on your heart. “Your heart is racing.”

“How can it not?” You ask, double checking that you got all of the sweat. “You're so handsome, and you're staring at me with this look that I can't explain.”

“Believe it or not, I wouldn't look at a stylist,” Minho tells you, grabbing the towel from you. You furrow your brows, watching him throw the dirty item away. “I'm usually reviewing what we just recorded when they do that. So, that look I gave you was just for you.”

You tear your gaze away from him, getting flustered again. Minho hooks a finger beneath your jaw, lifting your face. Your breath hitches in your throat as he kisses you.

Your fingers grip his shirt, tugging his body toward you. You kiss him back with no hesitation, loving the way his lips feel against yours.

“Minho!” Chan's voice comes through the closed door, knocking echoes off the walls. “We gotta go!”

He pulls away from you, an annoyed sigh leaving his lips. “Never enough time,” Minho sighs, both of his hands squeezing your waist.

“If you're not too tired tonight, you can stay at my place,” you offer, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs.

“I'll gladly take you up on that,” he smiles, kissing your forehead. The two of you walk over to the door, and he opens it up before stepping into the hall.

You lean against the door frame and cross your arms over your chest. “I love you,” you say to him before he walks away.

Minho turns to face you, grinning ear to ear. “I love you, jagiya,” he beams and kisses you one last time.

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

[delirious-donna]

The Best Worst Father’s Day [Nanami Kento]

an: I wrote this in like 20 minutes because i was ‘inspired’. Kento deserves a fantastic Father’s Day but let’s be real… kids are not always willing to deliver

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: fluff, mention of a child, suggestive at the end, kids being assholes, tantrums (not just the kid), Kento being a fucking hero, breeding kink (if you squint)

Masterlist

It was Father’s Day and it also marked the day that your precious bundle of not-so-small joy decided that they were going to be a nightmare. All day.

The morning started out on the right foot, Kento snoozing peacefully with his sleep-soaked face pressed into the spill of your cleavage, a subtle drunk smile plastered to his face. Awoken by the telltale stomps of what your child affectionately tried to pass as tiptoes grew closer to your bedroom door, you blinked away the dregs of sleep just in time. A head peeked inside, drowsy and rubbing their eyes with a beloved teddy bear tucked under one arm like a newspaper.

You smiled and whispered a good morning before pressing your finger to your lips and pointing to their sleeping father. The answering giggle melted your heart as you heard them scamper downstairs, awaiting their breakfast and entertainment for the morning.

Lost in a kaleidoscope of rose-tinted memories that led to this moment, you combed softly through the blond locks of hair hanging low on his brow. Kento shifted, his eyebrows pinching and smoothing out until he rolled over and continued to sleep. He deserved it, he really did.

All those nighttime feedings, endless nappies changed, hours of reflux and windings that never seemed to yield results. The skinned knees and the tears. A million cups of tea at your bedside table before your bleary eyes even opened for the day. Car seats researched to the nth degree for safety reviews and practicality. First steps. Their first word, and of course it was ‘dada’.

The years had sped by at an alarming rate, feeling as those dark tortuous hours in the depths of winter were only yesterday. There had been far more good times than bad, and without Kento by your side the whole time, you weren’t sure how you would have managed. He might not be your Father, but you were determined his day would be one of the best.

However, that slice of idyllic tranquility would be the last, although you did not yet know it.

Whether the stars had misaligned or some demonic imp had decided today was the perfect day to toy with the emotions of a young child, you didn’t know. What you did know was that they were ‘on one’, and no amount of coaxing or reminders of whose special day it was would deter their rampant destruction.

Kento, diligent and steadfast as ever, refused to back away from the plate. He smiled through the gift giving which consisted of a beautiful handmade card by his darling angel, the very same darling angel who was kicking off because they couldn’t watch their favourite tv show right now. Aptly, the bottle of whisky could not have been a better choice, and he glanced surreptitiously at you with a knowing smile.

From there it went from bad to worse. Tantrums and tears, and not only from the hellspawn, ensued. Your sobs of “you’re meant to be relaxing today, not doing all of this” fell on deaf ears. No amount of cajoling or attempts by you were working, leaving Kento to swoop in like a hero just minus the cape and with the addition of a garish tie.

You watched from the kitchen door, enormous mug of tea in hand and a tissue dabbing your puffy eyes as Kento chased your child around the garden. The laughter broke your heart, but in that way that a happy ending in a movie also broke your heart.

There he was, the man infamously referred to as stoic and reserved, growling like a lion and throwing your little darling around to hollering whoops of laughter. If only they could see what you saw, if only they had known right from day one that behind the cool facade was a man that would do anything for his family—for his wife.

With energy levels finally depleted and the boss level of bath and bedtime tackled and won, you fell into his open arms. Your nose buried in the collar of his shirt, inhaling the spice from dinner on his skin and drinking in the warmth he exuded.

“I’m sorry, Kento,” you mumbled, lip wobbling from the stresses of the day. The anger that had sizzled in your veins only hours ago defused into a mass of misery.

“For what?”

“For the shitshow that was today! Don’t ‘for what’ me.”

Kento tilted your head up, his thumb beneath your chin and his lips upon yours in a soft rush that surprised you. The red wine from dinner melted onto your tongue, pushed deeper as he took and took, only to give back everything and more.

Finally, he pulled back with a contented hum. “Father’s Day is all well and good, but you gave me the best gift you ever could years ago… a baby that has grown into a wilful little mischief maker just like their mother.”

If you weren’t already emotional, you sure were now. Tears brimmed in your eyes only to be caught on the pads of his thumbs. Soft kisses decorated your cheeks and you grasped fistfuls of his shirt in earnest.

“Better stop talking like that, or I’ll give you another one, mister.”

“Mm, now that has made my day. I’ll give you to the count of ten to strip and kneel on the bed,” he breathed in your ear, biting the shell and playfully grabbing at your backside.

“One… two…”

[gostonerlife]

Happy shatterday all! Vibe with me as we go In on the @geticglass solar transition glass & jam to the new one from @sunsleep. If you are boping along let me know and I hope you are having a lit weekend so far all!

[maureen-corpse]

I was looking for local retailers that sell handkerchiefs because if I’m going to be dabbing at my eye for a few days I’d rather do it with reusable cotton than with tissues and here are my grievances:

Why are handkerchiefs only listed as men’s accessories at department stores? (At the ones near me, that I checked at?) Are women not supposed to used handkerchiefs? This is stupid. You’re stupid. Maybe I want to embroider a little ladylike floral motif on there. For a woman. (I don’t have such an embroidery project in mind right this second but that’s not the point.)

The reviewers on one product who complained about wrinkles. One person even alleged that people don’t want to have to iron handkerchiefs. Sir???? Ironing like one square foot of cotton is not that big a deal. Am I on dope? Are you on dope?