#drink water you heathens

[strayadvice]

[advisorsage]

I'm scared. Terrified even.

Things are happening really rapidly with my mental health that I don't understand and that terrify me. My hallucinations have gotten more frequent and I have a new kind (physical sensations) and I've just started having these weird paranoid thoughts? Ideations? I don't know what to call them. They don't feel like delusions. And it's all progressing so fast. I started seeing the slide about a month maybe a month and a half ago. Then a week ago the sensation of bugs on and in my skin started. Two days ago the paranoia/paranoid thought patterns started. About eight (ish?) hours ago I started feeling needle stabs in my skin. I used to only have some hallucinations occasionally. I'm terrified at how fast this is progressing. I see my psychiatrist in just under 2 weeks but I'm afraid something is going to happen before then. I just don't know what.

Today is October 7th, 2024 and as of writing this it's 2:40 AM.

When I have a chance I'm going to record a video describing my history weekly hallucinations and I plan to start documents my symptoms daily. Today is day one of that documentation. I hope that if something happens I'll at least have this to look back at to see the actual chain of events.

I really don't know what to do cause I can't miss class so I don't want to go to the psych hospital but if something happens that's where I'll end up.

This feels like drowning on an airplane. It's not the right place.

And while I know that the diagnosis I'm afraid of does manifest at this age and I do have the environmental factors for it plus an extended family member with it I'm hoping that it isn't that.

I don't know if I'll come out of my appointment on the 18th with a new diagnosis but I do know I'll probably have a new prescription. Yet another pill to add to the collection. Not like there isn't enough I have to take.

Oh and another thing. My compulsions have been worse since August. I don't know if that's connected or not. But my tourettes doesn't seem to be affected so whatever this is isn't hitting everything. Just most of it.

I'm so scared of what's happening in my brain. I feel like I'm becoming a different person and not in a good way.

Also I swore a little bit ago (I said Jesus out loud) and something in my head answered and when I was like. Stop it. Shut up. it said no. So that's not fun.

This will probably be posted after 3am and I won't be able to go back to sleep for an hour (i can't sleep unless i go to the bathroom immediately before and i can't get myself to feel safe leaving my room between 3 and 4 am so I'm trapped in my room for that hour no matter what) so it's likely no one will see this but I needed somewhere to record all of this and I don't feel comfortable doing the video with my parents (at least my dad) able to overhear. Having them as landlords and caretakers is weird and not something I want but it's what I have to deal so the video explanation may take a while or not happen realistically. I may just need to force myself to film on the patio.

If you've read this entire thing then thank you. Please don't point out what the possible diagnosis could be. I already know. I don't want to say it. Me being so scared of a diagnosis is a little mean to the people who have it (including my cousin). I'd rather not have this post in the tag for that diagnosis cause that could be harmful for them. These are my genuine feelings and I need to express them and be able to look back at them but I also don't want to harm an entire portion of the population. Especially since they experience symptoms I'm at least somewhat familiar with (for at least some of the symptoms) or have worked with people with those symptoms.

In fact if you could avoid tagging any mental illness or disorder on this post that would be great. I already know which ones I have and this isn't really the place for speculation on what my new diagnosis could be. I don't want to put my fears in spaces that should have resources and actual things about specific diagnoses. This post has mostly been a catalog of my hallucinations and fears so if anything leave it untagged beyond my tags that I'm going to use to find it again later.

I don't know why I'm so worried about that. It might just be more paranoia. Great first I'm paranoid about things at home now I can't trust my tumblr. Fuck my brain. (Ew that's a bad mental image)

I'm going to stop typing before I start ranting. Thanks for reading this shit.

[arthurbutus]

Consider this a warning, you dehydrated bitch.

[sneezeace1]

Hello! This is a reminder to all my fellow Jews,

If you are fasting for Yom Kippur you better be hydrating like there is no tomorrow! The fast will be much easier if you aren’t on the verge of passing out I promise. Stay safe and may your name be sealed in the book of life!

- M

[bi-pandoras-box]

Did you drink water today?

[stickbug-made-entirely-of-spite]

Heyo, friends! ^-^

I'm messing around with the idea of turning Donnie into a walking circuit board right now lmao

Of course, this is just me messing around to see what I like, but I'm really liking this idea so far! I definetly think I'll be incorporating something similar into my final design for him, it just fits him so well bahahaha

I imagine he might be in his late teens to early twenties here :]

Nonsensical purple lines and grumpy turtles aside, I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day ^-^ 🧡

Yours truly, Stickbug 🪲

[rocksanddeadflowers]

I still think it's funny that, while I've been a tea drinker my whole life and admittedly a tea > coffee person... that was mostly southern iced sweet tea. Or sometimes iced green tea. I had tried warm tea, but I never really liked it . Of all things, it was reading Magnus Archives fanfiction and discovering an electric kettle in my kitchen wares that improved my tea making skills and helped me expand my palate for tea.

[stinkymudgoblin]

Norepinephrine, souepinephrine, easepinephrine and wesepinephrine

Try them all!

Make your sympathetic nervous system have an omnidirectional nervous breakdown, and finally get back at that bitch for making you hyperventilate in the school bathroom!

Don't dish it out, if you can't take it!

You myelin covered fuck

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Personal Heater - T.Nott

Summary - Theo acts as his sleepy girlfriend's personal heater on the night before Christmas, much to the dislike of their friends and roommates.

Word Count - 609

Warnings - foul language, drinking, female reader, use of Y/N, brief mention of troubling family, (Let me know if I missed any!)

Author's Note - Welcome to day three! I'm hoping to stay caught up with my writing, the end of my semester is approaching so everything is kinda piling up on me. I'm trying my best!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

my masterlist

25 days of fics masterlist

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

Spending Christmas at Hogwarts wasn’t all that bad. It was quite nice to wake up and not have the responsibility of acting civil with family that were never around or family that liked to cause problems. Theodore and most of his friends decided that they’d stay during Christmas break, the night before Christmas, the boys were all awake in the common room. Some of them were playing wizards chess and the others were just fooling around with the other boys. 

As it neared midnight, Y/N and Pansy had made their way to the common room with the rest of their friends. Pansy sitting between Blaise and Draco and Y/N making herself comfortable next to Theo. Once he got a good look at her, he knew right away that she had just woken up, her eyes were red and sleepy, her body was warm against his and her eyes were watering with how much she had been yawning.

“Lay down bellissima, you look tired,” Theo whispered in her ear, she looked up at him with a loving gaze. She took his offer willingly, kissing his cheek in return as she laid her head down on his shoulder and her legs over his lap.

“Thank you, Theo,” She whispered back, a drowsy tone laced in her voice. 

Within minutes, she had fallen back asleep, this time sleeping soundly in her boyfriend’s arms where she wished she was when she had fallen asleep earlier in the night. Crabbe decided that now was a great time to become obnoxiously loud for no reason at all. “Shut up you buffoon! If you wake her up I will not hesitate to kill you,” Theo threatened the boy, who immediately shut his mouth in fear.

“How dare anyone wake his bellissima! Oh it's blasphemous!” Pansy teased earning a deadly glare from the boy.

“Shut up Pans,” Y/N mumbled sleepily, snuggling herself closer to her boyfriend’s warmth. 

“Let’s go to bed before you fall asleep again,” Theo suggested before urging her up from the couch and leading her to his dorm. 

“Why are the dungeons so cold?” She whined, her feet freezing on the concrete of the dungeons despite the thick socks on her feet. 

“We are surrounded by concrete, amore mio. Of course it’s going to be cold.”

She rolled her eyes in a playful manner as she climbed into his bed. She was shivering at this point, her teeth chattering against each other. He climbed into bed with her, holding her body close to his. She slid her hands under his shirt to try and warm them, Theo wiggling away from them. “Salazar bellissima, your hands are so cold!” He shrieked in surprise. 

“And you’re so warm, Teddy! I can’t help myself, you’re like my own heater,” She told him. The two of them shared a laugh before letting out yawns. Neither of them remember falling asleep, only remembering sleepy laughter and getting woken up by a drunk Blaise and Draco as the sun began to rise. “What time is it, you heathens?” She asked her boyfriend’s drunk roommates.

“Like 6,” Blaise slurred out before collapsing on his bed. She looked to her boyfriend who had messy hair and droopy eyes. 

“Happy Christmas, Teddy,” She whispered to him.

“Happy Christmas, amore mio,” He whispered back before planting a kiss to her lips. He let out a hum as he pulled away, “Your lips are cold.”

“Maybe you could warm them for me?” She winked at him causing a chuckle from him and a collective groan from his roommates. In turn, Theo closed the curtains and took his girlfriend up on her suggestion.

[advisorsage]

I chirped three times during my class today. Only once did someone try saying bless you. I guess that's a win? I mean they don't know that it's a tic or that I have touretts so it was a good amount of my behavior being ignored. My group I was working with was unfazed too so that was good. I still regret not telling the class to expect the chirping during my intro video though.

[clancysstole]

Woah look at this picture of you I found

Apparently you need ‘a gAllon oF waTeR a daY to Be heaLthY’ yea whatever google, I’m fine on less then a glass a day you don’t know what you’re talking about

[pogueprincess]

Delicate

summary: On a dreaded night out with Aegon to forget his past, Aemond finds himself thinking of a future with you.

pairing: Modern!Aemond x Stripper!Reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: Explicit smut, alcohol consumption, brief mention of drugs, sex work, dry humping, lactation kink, slight mommy kink, handjob, cum play 18+ MDNI

note: Tbh, idk what urged me to write this, (it was the photo of Ewan on the couch with the leopard print carpet) but shout out to Aegon for being a good wingman 🫡 I have a part 2 planned but only if people are interested

Aemond Targaryen was never a fan of strip clubs. He viewed them as not only a waste of time, but a waste of money. Spending ungodly amounts on overpriced, watered down drinks. Just so some girl who pretended to be attracted to him, could dance on him for a couple of hours. He always left feeling impure while glitter and the scent of cotton candy body spray clung to his clothes. It just wasn’t his thing, he had better ways to spend his time. And yet, he found himself getting ready to go to one now, on a Tuesday night. With his heathen of a brother and his immature friends. What had become of him?

You’re on the opposite side of town, also getting ready for the evening. Hot steam and the scent of coconut invigorates your senses as you’ve just finished taking an ‘everything’ shower. You’re scrubbed to the bone, freshly exfoliated, shaved, and now lathering vanilla scented lotion onto your skin when your phone buzzes. Aegon Targaryen.

Aegon was your typical rich, spoiled, frat boy who frequented the club you worked at. Over the years he had become something more of a friend than a customer. He would sometimes bring you food, or weed, or a pack of cigarettes. He had even come to your defense when certain men would over step boundaries with you.

He was a good customer, gave a lot of money to the club – and to you. He wasn’t exactly your type but there was no denying he was attractive.

you workin tonight?

depends who’s asking 😈 jk … u know where to find me 💋

perfect. and not for me 😢 have a guy who needs a distraction. wear smth expensive!

oh? 👀🤨

money talks baby

yeah yeah 💸💦

It’s a rainy Tuesday night, you’re not sure why you agreed to pick up a shift in the first place. But you could use some extra cash, and your daughter is at her dad’s this week.

Even though the club you work at is one of the busiest in Kings Landing, you anticipate it to be an uneventful evening. Aegon coming in changes things, maybe you’ll have some sort of fun, and at the very least someone to talk to.

It’s just you and two other girls working tonight. There are three men sat around the stage as Floris dances, and Sara is occupied with a private dance in the back. As you predicted, a pretty slow night. You have the bartender make you a drink. You sit and tap on the glass waiting for some action when Aegon finally shows up.

He has a decent sized group of guys with him, most of which seem to already be under the influence. In order to not appear desperate you wait for Aegon to come to you.

“Lookin’ good, girl!” he calls, leaning in to hug you, “and you wore expensive perfume, that’s a good girl,” he flirts as he slides you a $50 bill, causing you to raise your eyebrows at him.

“Is this for… your friend?”

“Not a friend,” he states proudly, a devilish grin on his face, “my brother.”

You look past Aegon to the group of guys he sauntered in with, and then you spot him. A tall, lean guy with hair the same shade as Aegon’s; except his is much shorter, and styled neatly. He’s aimlessly scrolling his phone, barely looking around. You notice he has a pack of Marlboro Menthols in his hand. With a cool demeanor and a jawline chiseled to perfection by the Gods themselves, you are in for it.

He resembles Aegon for sure, though he is much more handsome.

“Gods, there’s two of you,” you groan jokingly.

“Actually, there’s four of us,” Aegon corrects, “but one’s sixteen and the other is a girl, our sister.”

Aegon hardly ever spoke of his family and when he did it was never in detail. All you knew was they were toxic, full of drama, lacking love, and filthy rich.

“Right. Well, what do I need to know about this one?”

“That’s Aemond. Go easy on him, will you? He’s a major nerd, hates all things fun, and the club isn’t really his scene — total opposite of me,” he notes, “but he’s been hung up on this older woman and I need him to get under someone else to get over her.”

You raise your eyebrows at him a second time, unsure of what you’re getting yourself into.

“What can I say? We’re a complicated bunch, but it’s nothing you can’t handle, right princess?”

You giggle at the pet name and he grins before he smacks you hard on the ass.

“Go get ‘em, tiger.”

You glance over in Aemond’s direction again, now he sips on an old fashioned, his grip tight on the glass while his expression remains unreadable.

You decide to head to the back to quickly freshen yourself up. You’ll need to mentally prepare yourself before sinking your paws into Aegon’s sexy-as-hell younger brother. You brush out your curls, pick away any dried mascara from below your eyelids and generously apply more perfume. Baccarat 540, it was expensive, thank you very much.

You take a large sip of your own drink before you saunter your way back out front and over to the table where he sits.

"Hey! You look like you could use a friend" you purr, “can I offer you a dance?"

Aemond looks over to Aegon who is giving him a thumbs up before looking at you. His eye scans your body.

"Um, yeah,” he finally responds, swallowing thickly, “yeah, you can.”

This time he smiles as he checks you out.

"You wanna go somewhere more private?" you offer in a whisper, motioning to one of the closed off rooms, "ya know away from prying eyes?"

"Sure," he replies and your perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his wrist, dragging him to one of the rooms. Once you’re alone, tucked away behind the velvet curtain, he takes it upon himself to take a seat on the leather couch.

“So how does this work?" he questions nonchalantly, taking a large sip of his old fashioned.

“You’ve never gotten a private dance before?” you ask him and he shakes his head as he swallows.

“Oh, well, I’m flattered,” you giggle, taking a seat next to him, feeling him out.

“Well, while we’re in here,” you say as you place your palm on his leg, “I’m all yours,” you smile.

“All mine, huh?”

“That’s right,” you soon come realize that Aemond isn’t even sure what he wants. You take a large sip of your drink, finishing it off in one gulp.

You discard your empty glass and slowly straddle Aemond’s lap, refusing to break eye contact as you move your body to the rhythm of the song the booms through the speakers. Your palms glide over his lean chest, teasing and tantalizing as you continue to sway your hips. Aemond keeps a firm grip on the couch, his hands not leaving his sides. You reach down and take them in yours.

“You can touch me, you know. I promise you won’t break me,” you encourage, guiding his hands up your body.

His hands are cold as they run up and down your stomach, but they cause a fire to ignite inside of you. His touch is more gentle than what you’re used to. He uses his thumbs to swipe over the sheer fabric of your bra against your nipples. You gasp under his touch but he quickly removes his hands from you, yet you feel his cock grow harder underneath you.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, your hands flying to your breasts, instantly feeling two damp spots there. Fuck.

It’s something you know is inevitable, but it doesn’t make it any less awkward. All of your regulars are already aware of your situation, but with someone new and unsuspecting, it’s an uncomfortable conversation. You’d found a lot of men are actually turned on by it, but there is always that chance that the current one won’t be.

“I – I’m so sorry. I don’t usually confide this, Aegon knows… but uh, I have a one year old who’s still breastfeeding.”

Aemond appears to be at a loss for words. You need to get up before he can reject you himself.

“Let me just—” He stares at you intently as you’re about to remove yourself from his lap. He is definitely caught off guard by your confession, but not in the negative way that you think.

“That’s no problem,” he says huskily as he composes himself, “you stay right here.”

His gaze is piercing as he keeps his hands firm on your hips, the cool metal of his rings digs into your flesh as he holds you in place in his lap.

“Alright, if you’re sure,” you mutter back to him, feeling relieved.

“Oh, I’m sure,” he tells you, the bulge in his pants evidently harder than it was earlier.

You study him carefully, there is a hunger in his eye that wasn’t there before, even moments ago. It’s as if his entire demeanor has changed. You figure you can use this to your advantage.

“I don’t usually do this, but I’m making an exception,” you tell him as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. You shimmy it off your shoulders and let it fall to the dirty floor.

“Because I’m Aegon’s brother?” he asks.

“No, because …. I want to.”

It was true, you didn’t normally get this intimate with customers, but something about Aemond was drawing you in.

Aemond’s eye widens as you reveal your glistening nipples to him. You squeeze at your breast lightly, grinding yourself into him, and he rewards you with a moan. your thumb around your nipple, gathering some of your milk onto it before rubbing it along Aemond’s lower lip. He eagerly accepts it into his mouth, sucking it harshly, nipping at your fingertip.

“You like that?”

“Mhm,” he groans against you, releasing your thumb before leaning forward into you. He smells good, expensive cologne and nicotine. His lips find their way to your neck, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. His fingers ghost down your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You arch into him, wanting more.

He continues to move at an agonizingly slow pace, taking his time with you as his lips make their way from your throat down to your chest. Your breath hitches once his tongue finally comes in contact with your nipple, lapping at the droplets of milk there. He takes your flesh into his mouth, gently suckling, careful not to apply too much pressure.

Your mind is going hazy as arousal leaks from your core, so you grind down harder on him, attempting to ease the ache between your legs.

Aemond continues to suckle at your breast, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as he drinks from you with ease. His eyes are closed, his mind completely lost to the sensation of you in his mouth. Your body trembles against him and he feels it, your small whimpers and moans urging him on.

He pulls away slowly, and you wince at the loss of contact. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses across your skin as he looks up at you with glassy eyes.

You lean back, positioning yourself so that you have access to the button of Aemond’s jeans.

“Can I?” you ask.

He nods his head eagerly, unbuttoning them for you and yanking the zipper down with quickness.

You slip your hand inside, beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and wrap your hand around his length, tugging gently as your free hand flies to the back of his head, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck.

Your hand slides at a steady pace against his shaft, squeezing gently. His thick veins pulsing underneath your fingertips.

“Fuck, M-mommy,” he moans.

Your eyes widen at his choice of words but they stir something sinister inside you, and what Aegon told you earlier rings in the back of your mind: “he’s been hung up on this older woman.”

It all clicks.

You kiss him soft and slow for a moment before pulling away.

“You wanna be a good boy and cum for mommy baby?”

“Yes! I’m — I’m good,” he stutters, rutting himself up into your palm.

Your hand works quicker as he finds himself back at your chest. Drinking from you like a man starved.

A few more languid pumps of his cock and he’s trembling beneath you. Shooting thick, pearly ropes into your hand. You move your hand down lower to cup and squeeze at his balls for a moment before bringing it back up to your mouth, licking away the salty remnants as Aemond shoves his cock back into his pants.

As if right on schedule, the timer you set on your phone to keep track of the time goes off.

“Well, looks like our time’s up,” you say with a frown.

“Looks like it,” he replies and the air swells with tension.

You turn to leave, hoping to give him a moment to gain his composure and get himself together but he yanks at your wrist.

“Wait! Let me take you out!” he blurts out at you, “on a date, a real one. Please.”

You bring your hand up to wipe a smudge of your lipgloss from the corner of his mouth.

“This was paid for, ya know?” You say empathetically and his eye darkens. Great. You’ve offended him.

“I know that,” he says sternly, “It’s just, I want to take you out. Please. Just one date.”

“One date,” you repeat.

“Yes,” he assures, his good eye gleaming.

“Okay.”

Something else you don’t usually do, date customers. These Targaryen’s are giving you a run for your money.

You give Aemond your phone number and you let him add his to your phone.

“I will text you,” he promises before he goes to exit the room. You follow him out and watch as he makes his way back to Aegon who is bright eyed and clapping at his brother.

You make eye contact with Aegon and he mouths something to you that you are unable to decipher.

What have you gotten yourself into?

[ravensmadreads]

Unhinged totally unasked for thots about Riding Pedro Boys

Authors Note: So this came from me chugging entirely too many energy drinks and then projectile vomiting in Taylors inbox. I'd like to warn you that: English isn't my first language, I have never written smut before, I'm not a real writer, and also I'm trash goblin levels of unhinged about this. That being said; Enjoy and uhh. Forgive me Fandom

JAVIER PEÑA

Javier Pena doesn't let you do it.

Don't @ me LISTEN! (YES I STARTED OFF WITH A CONTROVERSIAL THOT FUCKING BITE ME.)

That man does not have the time, or the patience, or the good sense (the sense is at the other end) to let you ride. He needs the control okay? And sometimes it's not even about the control ! It's the frustration. It piles and piles and piles until he snaps. He needs to do. He will bend you over and work his frustration away until he has had enough and you let him because he needs it. (And lets be real he makes it worth your while every single time)

BUT. When he finally fucking retires, and gets a ranch, and breaths air not tinged with the smells of death, cigarettes and guns for the first time in however many years, and maybe drinks some fucking water, he takes you out on a date. He fumbles through the entire thing, panics because he thinks he blew it, still manages to get you home, gets ridden for the first time in like 6 years, and can't walk straight for an entire day and stammers every time someone asks him why.

JAVIER GUTIERREZ

Javi G loves it. He loves watching you. Gets all puppy dog wide eyed (remember the pool scene face??? Thats it.) and you have to really focus because his look of straight up wonder and awe and bright eyed eagerness makes you want to cry. He's panting like he's running a marathon, running his big hands EVERYWHERE he can reach. He makes you feel worshipped and adored and so very very loved. Thanks you after. For being so amazing, and so wonderful to him, and thanks the universe that he found you. Cause he's sap. You definitely cry after.

JOEL MILLER

(Watch me be controversial again) Joel is fucking tired okay? He has old man bones and creaky joints and his back is achy. Patrol was agony, Jesse wouldn't shut up the entire time, and Tommy was giving him shit, and he has no energy to drill anyone into the mattress (as much as we all want him to). He's just plain tired. He likes you on top. Likes it slow (like a roast chicken on a sunday slow). Enjoys the gradual build up, likes to lean back, watch with half open eyes as you take your time. Wants to indulge in something beautiful at the end of the world, and that something is you. He makes sexy grunting noises, mutters a whole lot of praise ~and filth~ and just y'know. Savours it. 🫠🫠🫠 savours you. 🫠

DIETER BRAVO

Dieter is a maniac. (Leave him alone he has adhd!!) He can't still still for the life of him so you best believe he changes positions 6 times and the only way you're getting to ride is if you're also putting some weight elsewhere. To hold him down! You squeeze his neck once and he MELTS. INSTANTLY. Loses all sense. Starts babbling and whimpering and making extremely pathetic noises. Will definitely buck up and whine. PRAISES YOU. BEGGING. LOUD NOISES.

MAX PHILLIPS

Max is a heathen. He just likes watching you bounce. That's it. That's the post :p

MARCUS PIKE

Marcus P is a romantic. He will be doing the whole "lean forward and try to get kisses in between" while also "moaning and maintaining eye contact" and he's holding you so tight , squeezing your sides and also muttering declarations of love. About how he wants a life with you, and a family, and a home, and a future. How he's going to "make you so happy baby, I promise I will, I swear to you". Doesn't let you off for from on top of him for atleast a half hour after; kissing all over your face and rubbing your back and petting your hair "I meant all of it sweetheart. I want all of you." shsbzgwgsvsg ilovehimsomuch and I've only ever seen gifsets of this man what is wrong with me

MARCUS MORENO

Marcus M is A MENACE. He wears his stupid glasses, and has his stupid shirt off, while he does stupid taxes/meeting plans in bed. You keep throwing side glances and getting increasingly wound up and he just has this gentle smirk but he's mostly ignoring you. You sidle up to him and maybe start kissing his jaw, laying gentle pecks down his neck, and he's still fukcungh working "Baby. I need to finish this. I'm sorry, you need to wait." But that smirk is still there and it's driving you crazy and maybe you keep kissing until you reach his *coughs* and then you're working on getting him interested. You can still hear the fucking pen scratching though and so you go deeper, and he raises an eyebrow. "be good now honey" You're settling in his lap and he has you sitting there until he has finished his paperwork with you whimpering and trying not to squirm because you want to be good you really do and you know he'll make it so much better but he feels so good and when he's finally finally done you get to move but you're so wound up you can't pull yourself together enough to find a rhythm and you're nearly in tears and he has to grip your sides and murmur instructions in your ear and help you until you're satisfied and just when you think he's done, and about to flip you over, he adjusts his grip and starts moving from underneath you until you're crying and he's finished ~which doesnt happen until you've come 2 more times~

DAVE YORK

Dave. Oh my gosh Dave. Dave is a strict dom if ever there was one. With him it's a punishment. He'll tell you to hold off until he's done which is freaking impossible with how deep he gets, and how he likes to warm up his hands on your butt while you're trying desperately to hold onto that last thread of control. He is muttering absolute filth, holding your arms behind your back with one hand while the other is either laying smack after smack or rubbing you furiously all the while he's got the smuggest look. "Don't you dare baby. Be a good girl now. Listen and obey for once". But you can't because he's not fair and he knows it. And when you do finally fall apart he's clenching his teeth trying to hold back himself and his hands are holding you up as you gasp his name like it's the only word you know. He's running his hands down your back and kissing you softly and helping you catch your breath and when you finally get your heart to stop pounding and look up at him, he's watching you with this dangerously soft smile and he goes "oh you're in for it now aren't you honey?" and kisses your forehead while you try not to whimper.

FRANKIE MORALES

Frankie is a soft boy. He loves it. Craves it. He loves giving up control. Wants you to tie him up and have your way until he has no thoughts left in that pretty little head. He is swearing like an absolute sailor the entire time, calling you ma'am, begging to be released so he can kiss you and touch you, absolutely nearly breaks the head board once he was so desperate. Wants to be edged but also is the biggest WIMP about it. Will pout and swear and beg and plead but then want you to deny him again. Will definitely be mumbling absolute nonsense once you're done. Needs all the aftercare. Blushes pink when he gets it. Wraps himself around you like a HUGE koala bear after. ~and returns the edging favour 3 times over when he gets in his Captain Francisco Morales Mood~

JACK DANIELS

BONUS TWO I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT and tumblr won't let me put gifs for:

Jack makes every single cowboy joke known to man. You have to put your hand on his mouth to get him to shut the hell up. His eyes get all glassy when you do. He puts his hat on top of your head and busies himself in your neck (dual benefits: A. He shuts up and B. HICKIES) will definitely drag you on top of him in his Bronco (he likes to show off) will pull up on the side of the road almost 70% of the times you drive together. Bites you over your clothes. Loves the way you grab desperately at this leather jacket. Definitely makes you bend over and 'clean up the mess sugar' before driving like the hounds of hell are after him all the way back home and doing it all over again because "we gotta make you a mama now love"

PERO TOVAR

Pero got married after he came back and retired as a sell sword. His wife is a soft but sassy thing who's a little (read: not at all, she returns his snark twice over) intimidated by him but also thinks he's a good man because he saved her village from raiders. She has seen him grumble and snark at but then also share his food with the orphans who works at the village inn. She's inexperienced (let me live my victorian life) and he doesn't really think he deserves her but also he's not so much an idiot to say no to someone like her. She's the village "healer" and he met her when he got stabbed by one of the raiders (arm wound: not serious.) He has to teach her. She gets shy and flustered, which is a total 180 from her sassy self, and Pero loves it. She makes the most amazing sounds that have him thinking that maybe he did something right in his life to end up in her arms. She wants to please her new husband and asks her married friends for advice and they tell her about this new position. So she asks him, stuttering and tripping over words, if she could try something she heard about? From a friend? She straddles him and Pero loses his mind. He's closing his eyes and clenching his jaw so hard and she's whimpering in the most DELICIOUS way and he's trying so hard to hold back and let her take her pace and she's so worried "am I not doing it right?" Pero has to take 3 deep breaths before he's centred enough to answer and then he helps her. Puts his hands on her hips to guide her. Puts one of her hands on his shoulder "steady now pequenita" and puts the other low on her belly and presses in so she can feel him. Loves the way she cries out. Bends forward to leave little marks everywhere he can reach. She's scrambling at his chest, leaving nail marks he loves, and finally grabbing his hair and pulling until he groans. And when they're both done and sated and sweaty he kisses her, looks her in the eye and winks. "I'm going to have to go thank your friend now, mi esposa."

DIN DJARIN

Din and you dont have time. The razor crest is finally in hyperspace, you got shot at for the 50th time in 2 weeks, (because Murphys Law seems to be the only law Mando never breaks), you're exhausted, sweaty, and the giggly green monster of chaos only made you chase him down from the top of a weapons cabinet twice before he finally decided to take a nap. You're frustrated, and in desperate need of a shower, and a nap, but also you can't get the image of Mando fighting out of your head. Before you know it, the hormones have taken over and you're attacking him in the pilot seat. The bucket is off (I refuse to look at my own reflection in the tin cans helmet while we do the do), he's got you arching into him, your shirt is half torn from the top because Din refuses to wait for "so many fucking buttons Meshla" the gloved hand is squeezing the back of your neck, his mouth is on your chest, his other hand (you only managed to get one glove off) is splayed out on your back. You're riding him like you're trying to break him and his thigh holster? thing (do i look like i can figure out what they're called?) is digging marks into your skin but you're too turned on to care. It's frantic, it's messy, you're PRAYING the tiny green menace stays asleep as you do your best to muffle your sounds. The refresher isn't big enough for a round two, (you still do your best), and your legs feel like jelly, when you finally pass out; curled up on top of the human space heater while he hums Mando'a in your ear.

*****

TAGGING: @chronically-ghosted (you are a menace but ily)

@fuckyeahdindjarin (here I go trying that writing thing again, stop me pls)

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day thirteen

prompt: down bad pairing: lando/oscar word count: 500w

“This is getting kind of… sad, no?” Charles asks, when he appears next to the smoothie bar, towel slung over his shoulder, his hair a sweaty mess.

“Horribly sad. Some might even say pathetic,” George agrees, taking another sip of his spinach mango spirulina smoothie. He’s already finished with his workout too, and just like Charles, he’s one of those people who looks annoyingly pretty when he’s all sweaty and gross.

“Heathens, you all are. I think it’s cute. Young love,” Alex says. He’s drinking from his water bottle, which presumably contains just plain water. At least Alex is looking slightly worn down and tired, but he too could probably still get away with it.

“Fuck off,” Oscar tells them, a little primly, from where he’s perched on the barstool at the end of the bar, the one that has the best view of the yoga studio. “You all suck.”

“How long have you been working here?” George asks. “Actually, scratch that, how long has Lando been working here? And how long have you been pining for him?”

“Lando’s been here for years,” Alex says. “Oscar only one and a half. The pining’s also been a year and a half, I think.”

In the yoga studio, Lando leads his class through another downwards facing dog. Oscar coughs, and hides his face in his own smoothie. “I’m not pining.”

“Right,” George says, unconvincingly.

“Have you tried asking him out?” Charles asks, innocently, clearly someone who’s never had to deal with the mortifying ordeal of being turned down.

“I’m not. That’s not. He’s not going out with me,” Oscar says. Through the windows of the yoga studio, Lando’s doing a tree pose, and he must’ve said some kind of joke, because some of his students topple out of their own tree poses with a laugh. Oscar’s familiar with the sensation. He too often feels like he’s falling out of a tree when talking to Lando.

“It’s Lando,” Alex says. “He’s not like. The god of Yoga or whatever. He’s a normal guy. You can talk to him. You can ask him out.”

“Hm,” Oscar says. He’s tried that. Talking to Lando. But he ends up staring and stuttering over his words and it’s just. Awkward, really. So it’s better, like this. Him and Lando, a giant wall of glass between them. “You guys done? I have another client in ten minutes.”

They all look at him, clearly disappointed. Oscar shrugs it off. It’s. It’s fine. He doesn’t want. He’s okay. With the pining. It’s better that way. He can’t ruin things that way.

“Yeah, we’re done. See you next week?” George decides, and they all wave at Oscar, wander off.

Oscar turns towards the bar, puts his empty smoothie glass down on it, sighs deeply, before squaring his shoulders. No more time for pining. Time to get back to work.

(Behind him, on the other side of the glass, Lando turns around, looks towards the bar, stares at Oscar wistfully, and sighs deeply.)

[withleeknow]

thirteen percent.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; mentions of drinking, cursing, hella unedited and tbh i kinda gave up toward the end but i wanted to post smth lmao word count: 1.2k note: inspired by the events of friday night in which i had 1.3 bottle of soju and promptly passed out while unmuted all night in my discord server lmfao

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

the first thing you do when you wake up is scowl.

at the sun. at the sky. at the cars and at the people going about their day on the street below. at soonie and doongie when you find them just peacefully existing in their respective corners of the room.

at minho who's looking at you from the doorway with an amused expression on his face.

"look who's finally up," he says, approaching the bed with a glass of water in his hands. "it's almost 1pm, heathen."

you groan, covering your face with your hands as you try to sink further into the mattress. "why are you so loud today?"

"this is my normal volume?"

"your normal volume is loud."

"hmm, could this be because last night you knocked back an entire bottle of soju and then some and therefore you have a raging headache right now?"

you blink, still delirious from the night before. it's obvious that the alcohol hasn't completely left your system and minho is right. there's a pounding in your head and you wish it would stop.

you ignore his sassy quip, trying to recall what happened. "how did i get home?"

it was supposed to be a cozy night in with your friends. you'd been looking forward to last night for weeks because all of you had been so busy with your respective lives, and a fun girl's night was desperately needed. to catch up, to gossip about your partners, to escape your tiresome realities for a few hours.

and of course, to unwind and drink. not to the point of being blackout drunk; just to de-stress a little.

"how do you think?" minho asks, holding out the water for you until you muster enough strength to sit up and take it from him. he watches as you greedily gulp down the liquid to satiate your dry throat, giving him back the empty glass when you're done and lying back down again. he sets the glass on your bedside table before he joins you under the covers. "boyfriend of the year went out in the middle of the night to drag your ass home."

"you took me home?"

"i just said boyfriend of the year, didn't i?"

despite his smartass attitude, minho still snakes an arm around your body to pull you close to him, until your head is lying on his chest while he strokes your hair gently.

"it was just soju. plum soju!" you try to justify your actions, throwing a leg over his and snuggling further into the warmth of his body. "only thirteen percent!"

minho scoffs. "that's how they get you. the fun flavors make you think that you're gonna be fine if you do just a couple more shots. next thing you know, you're sending your boyfriend gibberish messages at 2am."

to emphasize his point, minho shows you his phone, goes straight to the text thread you two share.

you mostly sent him nonsense, seemingly a lot of keyboard smashes and blurry drunken selfies of you and your friends. then came the last few messages.

you: oh naue why rom sponnign you: i wsntto go homrr you: mimo tskeeee me homeee

"oh." you purse your lips. "drunk me was a moment."

"no, she was a lot of moments actually. you stayed up for almost two hours after i brought you home."

"doing what?"

your boyfriend looks down at you, an unimpressed look on his face before he rolls his eyes and sighs, recanting the story of how you exhausted him just hours prior.

"stop squirming," minho said, trying to keep your head from lolling to the side as he wiped at your face with a cotton pad doused in micellar water.

but you kept giggling, kept trying to hold his cheeks so you could kiss him. "mimo, you're so pretty. my pretty, pr-" hiccup! "pretty mimo."

it took him thirty whole minutes just to take your makeup off, then another forty five to go through your skincare routine.

-

it was an entire struggle to get you out of your clothes and into your sleepwear because apparently, the feeling of him tugging your blouse over your head and sliding your jeans down your legs tickled that amorous part of your brain - your horndog side, if you will.

you instantly latched onto him, climbing on top of him to sit on his lap, attempting to trail kisses along his neck when all minho was trying to do was put your t-shirt on.

"not now," he scolded you lightly, pushing you away by your shoulders before he held your arms up just long enough to slip the shirt over your body.

"whyyy not?"

"mostly because you're about ten seconds away from passing out."

but that wasn't something that your intoxicated brain could comprehend. all you understood was that your boyfriend didn't want to have sex with you, that he was rejecting you.

you went quiet all of a sudden, your lips pouting, your eyes turning glassy before you practically sob, "you don't want me anymore."

minho could only sigh.

-

"what now?" he had finally managed to get your restless ass into bed, thinking you'd surely knock out within seconds of hitting the sheets. but when he returned to the bedroom five minutes later, having cleared away your clothes to be put in the washer in the morning, minho found you lying on your side, your eyes glued to your phone, your face illuminated by the blue light coming from the device. "why aren't you sleeping?"

you were going through your camera roll, watching your old videos like they were your favorite tv show. videos of you and him, videos of him and the cats, or just random videos of him that you took when you thought he wasn't paying attention.

it was cute how you were so immersed, how you kept giggling and making heart eyes at the version of minho captured on your phone. it made him smile, just standing there and watching you like that.

it was beyond endearing, but it was also fucking 4:18am.

minho snatched the device away from you and put it somewhere you couldn't reach before he settled into bed with you.

"i miss my mimo," you whined. "give me back my mimo."

he knew there was no use in telling you that you didn't need to miss him when he, the object of your affection himself, was lying next to you. instead, he just yanked you closer, tucking your face into the crook of his neck and holding you tightly so you couldn't move, hoping that it would eventually lull you to dreamland.

"your mimo is right here. now go to sleep, you menace."

"and not to mention you kept-"

"nope." you put a hand over minho's mouth so he would shut up. "i've heard enough."

he pushes your hand away. "i deserve compensation for what i had to go through last night."

"the satisfaction of taking care of your wonderful girlfriend wasn't enough for you?"

"no," he says. then, you both just stare at each another for a few minutes.

"fine," you relent. "i'll make it up to you with one hundred kisses."

"i want a cat tower."

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 14.01.2024]

[sandwhitches]

𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗢, 𝗚𝗢𝗢𝗗𝗕𝗬𝗘! (𝗮𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗺𝘂 𝗺𝗶𝘆𝗮 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝘂)

II. “parent trap” ✧ (contains written portion under cut)

warnings: (16+) language, implications of alcohol consumption, references to smoking, sexual allusions

<- prev. | m. list | next ->

this all must be a joke. one big and entirely unfunny joke. the set up? you walking into bokuto and kuroo’s party thinking nothing terribly odd would happen. the punchline? running smack into atsumu miya, a sizable red splotch from the cheap liquor he drank staining your new blouse.

before you could wait for the laughter, you found your wrist seized in an urgent grip that dragged you to the tiny bathroom tucked at the end of the hallway. atsumu miya, the last person you wished to spend your night with, is hastily running a rag under the whooshing mouth of the water faucet. if you weren’t already of the predisposition that atsumu was incapable of such flagrant displays of empathy, you could almost believe that he felt sorry.

“shit-“ he’s been rambling nervously for the past thirty seconds since he’d spilled his drink all over you, “here, try this.” calloused hands wring out the sopping rag and offer it to you, nodding to the stain upon your chest.

words tumble to the tip of your tongue, only to stagnate as you meet eyes with him and fully comprehend what’s happening. how you got to this point is beyond you, and you don’t think you’ll ever catch up with it. you shake your head, “it won’t work if it’s just water.” though, you still find yourself making a useless attempt to scrub at the fabric, feeling as though you might only be making it worse.

“hand soap?” he inquires, picking up the dish soap which apparently doubles as such, and you can’t help but think about how bokuto and kuroo practically live like heathens. you set your jaw firmly, “it’s okay, i really wasn’t planning on staying long.” you don’t really mean it, but, you will say anything to get out of this situation.

your chest constricts as atsumu lets out an incredulous scoff, “nah, you shouldn’t hafta leave just ‘cus of that.” you’d never realized how different he was until that very moment.

when you thought about atsumu, you thought about the boy you used to know all those years back. the one who terrified you. the atsumu who tugged on your hair in the lunch line, who launched crumpled up papers scribbled with awful notes into the back of your head, the boy who called you every nasty name a child could come up with and do it with a smile on his face.

but now, it wasn’t like that. for only a brief, fleeting moment, he was just a stranger. like the dark or rollercoasters, not as scary as they used to be now that you’re older. everything seems to click for only a moment, ideas bleeding into your mind about all the things you thought wrong of him.

your train of thought was cut short by a furious pounding at the door, followed by an angry hurry up in there!

“well,” atsumu’s eyes suddenly glint with something alarming, and everything you were thinking up until that point dissipates like mist. he reaches for the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his blond head of hair without a second thought. you yelp, covering your eyes like an awkward teenager.

“what? can’t handle it?” he snickers, hands working at turning the shirt right side out, “what are you doing?” you hiss, dropping your hands to your sides like weights.

don’t look at his six-pack, don’t look at his six-pack, don’t-

“i can’t.” you blurt out, staring down in horror at the shirt he is offering. atsumu snorts, “no, seriously, take it.” he nudges it closer to you, dangling it tauntingly. you shake your head, “you can’t just walk around shirtless.”

atsumu raises a brow, lips pulling into a lopsided grin that seems terrifyingly familiar, “why? i don’t think anyone would mind.” he waggles his brows suggestively and your stomach churns at the fact that he can somehow still manage to look like an asshole while quite literally giving you the shirt off of his back.

in surrender, you take the shirt, pinching at the soft white fabric. atsumu hums, head tilting ever so slightly as he watched you pull it over your head without further argument. “see? much better, hm?” the idea of affirming this made your head hurt, so you opted for silence instead, which seemed to do nothing to deter him.

there is a certain shine in his eyes that wasn’t there before. atsumu miya is absolutely unpredictable and unreadable and that is the scariest fucking thing in the world to you. a series of sharp raps at the door interrupts once again, almost allowing you to forget about the strange feeling that crept up your back and heated the nape of your neck. something akin to fear, but a fear so carnal it almost felt like desire.

nope! not happening!

“okay, fuck!” atsumu shouts back at whoever is pounding at the door, reaching to thumb at the lock on the knob. “um-“ you start, your fists balling nervously at your sides until your nails bite into the meat of your palms. he glances over his shoulder at you, pausing his ministrations to listen. the rush you get from this sudden beacon of undivided attention is exactly why you need to stay away from atsumu miya.

“thanks.” you mumble.

“don’t mention it.” atsumu smirks, shouldering into the door to open it and disappearing into the crowded hallway before you can even figure out why his smile had faltered just for a second upon your weak display of gratitude.

earlier you had thought that atsumu spilling his drink all over you was the punchline, but you were woefully wrong. that was just the set up to the best joke of the night: standing in perfect view of the bathroom, your friends all stare at you clambering out of the room after atsumu, wearing his shirt. akaashi, kuroo, and bokuto are all equally wide-eyed and slack-jawed, drinks long forgotten in their hands. that is the punchline. how the hell are you going to explain this one?

notes:

-> atsumu was probably wearing the stupidest shirt ever but i’ll leave it up to your imagination

-> kuroo and bokuto use dawn dish soap for everything “because of the cute ducks on the bottle” NO YOU MAY NOT USE THAT AS SHAMPOO

-> also if it wasn’t clear enough atsumu, suna & bokuto all play for the university v.ball team >:)

a/n: IM SO SORRY IVE HAD TO UPLOAD THIS MULTIPLE TIMES DUE TO FORMATTING ISSUES TUMBLR IS THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE!!! GAAHHH tysm for all the love on my first chapter!! hope u liked this one!! my creative writing is a little rusty after this terrible paper i just did for my poli sci class i feel like i’m writing like a robot. my third chapter is also done and will most likely be up tomorrow (7/18) sometime in the evening! also about taglists, if u sent an ask i just decided not to respond in case u wanted ur request to be private or smth but i see all ur nice input and it makes me so happy so thank u!!! working on smth not related to this smau too!!

taglist status: open! (comment or send an ask!)

taglist: @honeekyuu @reignsaway @luna-mothii @lumiether