#ma fic

[cryingatships]

Royalty au KimKenta keeps plaguing my waking moments but I don't have any time to write an actual fic, so here's some random thoughts-

Tony's an asshole king who has a legitimate son Kenta (along with multiple illegitimate ones), who is supposed to be the crown prince, but turned out to be an omega and is hence struck out from the line of succession.

Tony plans on holding a tournament beckoning all the brave and worthy from his kingdom (and also from other kingdoms) to duel for the Prince's hand, hoping to secure himself a powerful warrior or a wealthy noble house as an ally. This is partly because he's aware that the peasant of his kingdom will protest soon and maybe even overturn his rule, unless he has some strong/filthy rich friends to repel the attack, and partly cause he's an evil evil man who would not hesitate to auction his son off just to get rid of him from the line of succession safely.

He plans to make Way his next successor, but also considers Babe, his two illegitimate sons, and encourages them to compete in politics, duels etc except Way and Babe grew up together as unfavoured illegitimate children in a backwater caste far, far away from the royal palace and is thus very good friends who would rather help e/o out of Tony's wrath than fight for the throne.

Also Way is in love with the leader of the rebel peasants Pete and is not too eager for the throne anyway, and Babe would rather ride off as an adventurer into the horizon with a puppy-like, loyal page he met into the palace called Charlie. (Way is a lil jealous that Charlie becomes closer to Babe and takes his place as Babe's closest confidant, but he's busy planning Tony's downfall with Pete to pay it much mind.)

Anyway, as the tournament is arranged, knights and nobles rush in from diff corners of the kingdom, eager for the hand of omega who used to be the crown prince and was set to be the next king. Knights also come from far-away lands, and with them comes Kim, a very average and inconspicuous beta in his brown horse and the lack of finely crafted details in his armour.

In the opening day of the tournament, Tony greets the competing knights and nobles from a high podium, with three sons at his side, basically showing off his two strong successors—one enigma and one alpha, both his special powers—and the prize of the tournament, the 'beautiful' omega prince Kenta.

Kenta has the most frightening scowl, mastered from years of experience in attending council meetings with wily old coots from the nobility, as he hears Tony's words. He knows he has none of the so-called 'lovely omegan qualities' of docility, soft words and gentleness, and he certainly had not stayed cloistered inside the walls of the palace all his life like a proper little omega. He knows it, Tony knows it, and everyone in or below the podium knows it, but the all keep quiet and smile cause there are wayy too many benefits in winning the hand of the sole omega prince of the royal family.

As Tony is going on and on in his speech about the kingdom's fertile lands and it's military strength (and taking not a world about the starving population and the discontent brewing underneath), Kenta meets the eyes of an unassuming knight standing at the very back of the crowd—Kim. He feels a zap through his mind, the world stops, they both get lost in e/o's eyes etc etc, but then Tony's speech is over and the tournament is set to begin.

Kenta and Kim's eyes hardly stray from e/o and even Babe and Way makes note of Kenta's sudden strangeness, even though Kenta is mostly quiet all the time.

Kim wins through the initial rounds of the tournament, rising from an unknown little knight from the wilderness to one of the favourites to win the prince's hand. (Yes, there are bets going on about who's gonna be the prince's groom, you think Tony will let go of such a lucrative source of income?).

Kenta does not get to attend every single day of the competition because Tony is busy which means Babe and Way are also busy, extra busy in fact, but he makes sure to know the results of each day's duels well. He used to be the crown prince, he's got connections.

Kenta also gets flowers and an intricately curved dagger that looks like an heirloom and a few trinkets that look handmade and some delicacies that he has never seen before (and he was the crown prince with access to every delicacy in the kingdom) in his windowsill every day, but his rooms are on the second floor of the palace's most well guarded section so that def makes him raise his brows.

While all this is happening, while strolling in the palace gardens one day, Kenta comes across Way and Babe talking together behind a particularly high hedge in one of the less well-kept, semi-abandoned parts of the garden. This also makes him raise his brows, because while he knew Way and Babe grew up in the same palace, he (and everyone else) were under the impression that they were never close, and after coming back to the palace they have been separates even more by Tony's ploys and essentially turned into enemies fighting for the throne.

So why were they huddled so close together?

Way and Babe also see him and Babe grit his teeth and pull out the dagger strapped to his waist, which in turn makes Kenta grip the dagger hidden inside his clothes, the one he got on his windowsill, since Tony had confusticated all his weapons after his came out as omega under the guise of omegas needing to be soft and gentle and helpless. (the truth is that Tony was afraid Kenta will harm his face and bring down his value in the marriage market, or try to kill himself outright.) Kenta knows he has accidentally stumbled onto some secret between the two would-be crown princes, and would now be killed to keep his silence. He's ready to fight to death and take someone, or both, down with him. (he sort of also hates Way and Babe for taking away his position and his secure life, even though deep in his heart he knows that Tony's the real culprit.)

But Way holds Babe's waist and stops him and to Kenta's surprise, Prince Babe, well knows for his brash, aggressive, I-listen-to-no-one-not-even-the-king personality, listens and relents.

Way calls him closer, and then holds a knife to Kenta's throat saying that since Kenta has chanced upon their secret he will now know it all, and threatens Kenta to keep his silence because their plan will succeed, even if they need to die for it, and that he has the resources and the will to drag Kenta along to hell with him if Kenta spills it out.

Then they tell Kenta. Mostly Way tells him, while Babe glowers at him in silence. Apparently, Way is in cahoots with the peasant leader Pete (Kenta does not miss the stars in Way's eyes as he speaks the name. He meets Babe's eyes and they both know what it means and swiftly look away, knowing better than to bring it up), and the peasant rebels are all ready to kill Tony and are much, much more powerful than Kenta had ever known even with his extensive information network within the kingdom. Pete is also a son of a

Way: You were not supposed to know but as your step brothers it's our duty to keep you safe, so we told you everything. Hope this gives you enough time to make your own plans and escape with your little suitor, brother. Now stay quiet abt this or I swear upon heavens I WILL kill you, brothers or not. Kenta: Wait suitor?? Babe: You think we don't know that someone keeps putting courting gifts on your windowsill? We may be new here in the palace, but we got networks, y'know. Kenta: *panicking tho he tells himself it's cause he doesn't want an innocent man to die and not because he likes the person leaving them or anything* Then.... Tony...??? Babe: What, you think that incompetent fool knows anything other than to raise taxes, hear flattery, and get a new mistress every season? Kenta: ....Then who is it? Way: *winking* that's for us to know and you to find out.

I have MUCH THOUGHTS still, maybe i'll write them in another post sometime

[kittykatninja321]

Biggest pet peeve in fics that write a remix of Jason and Bruce meeting is when they make Jason super timid and afraid of Bruce. Girl Jason did not hesitate for a second with that tire iron:

[monzabee]

viva las vegas - mv1 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where you and Max celebrate his win in a way you’ve never done before.

Pairing: max verstappen x reader 

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, having sex tipsy but there is consent?, manhandling, unprotected sex (are you even surprised at this point), oral (fem receiving), sex (duh), cursing, cockwarming (oops), minors dni!!

Request: “Hey babe! I’m obsessed with your last Charles piece, I’ve been wanting to read something like that for such a long time and you did it perfectly 😍🥹 I was wondering if I could request kind of the same concept with Max Verstappen? Like he always is pictured as a tough guy and stuff, but when you see him in videos he’s kind of a goof, so I imagine the first time he’s intimate with his gf they’d both laugh and have the sweetest time together” 

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! is this my best work? no but it is something i managed to get done for the first time in like a month so here it is!! finishing this fic was a journey within itself, but i can honestly say that it was also kind fun? also, i saw a picture of max in his suit from vegas and that just inspired this whole thing, so i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Max is buzzing with life, quite literally, you can feel him practically buzzing the whole time he’s trying to take you back to your hotel room as fast as possible. It’s most likely due to the amount of alcohol the two of you have consumed after the race. Honestly it is pure luck that you found your way back to your room, given your current state, but instead of joining you when you jump on the bed, revelling in its comfort, he chooses to stand at the end of the bed as he watches you with an entertained smile on his face.  

“What?” you ask, a laugh washing through you as you raise yourself on your elbows, “Why are you looking at me like that?”  

He lets his eyes wander over your figure, his smile becoming more boyish as he lets it widen on his face, “You look pretty,” he murmurs, bending down so he can lower himself over your body better, “have I told you how beautiful you looked tonight?” 

“Um, yeah, Maxie,” you giggle as you point out, “you’ve been telling me that the entire night.” Using your hands as support while raising yourself more so that you could be face to face with him, “I think you look pretty too, you know?” 

“Yeah?” Max murmurs, cradling your jaw in one of his hands, his thumb quick to caress the apple of your cheek, which causes you to lean into his touch. “What if I wanted to kiss you, would that be okay?” 

The smile you offer him in return is sweet, the way your eyes seem to shine at the offer of feeling his lips against yours makes his heart beat faster in his chest. “Yes, please.” Your voice is softer, almost comes out as a whisper due to you suddenly feeling out of breath.  

And who is he to deprive his girl? 

He doesn’t waste any time pressing his lips against your awaiting ones, in fact, the movement of his lips are rushed, if not almost desperate. It's as if he can't get enough, as if he's afraid this moment might slip away like sand through his fingers. The taste of alcohol lingers on both your lips, and normally you would be weirded out about it, but you realise it only adds to the intensity of the kiss you’re sharing with Max. His fingers gently tangle in your hair as he deepens the kiss, and you find yourself responding eagerly. You let him take control, mostly because it’s so easy for you to lose yourself in his kiss. He’s lost in it too, if you had to guess, because the way his tongue is fighting over yours for dominance is so different compared to the way Max usually kisses you. You whine at the loss of his lips when he reluctantly pulls away, and if he wasn’t already hard, the sound makes Max’s cock instantly harder. His head is thrown back, eyes closed as he lets out a groan, and he has to stop himself from pulling you in for another kiss. But you clearly have other plans as you drag your lips down towards his jawline, leaving kisses in a random pattern until you reach that one specific point on his neck that absolutely drives him crazy.  

And you know it’s only a matter of time until he stops you, again, as he has done for the past whatever months of your relationship. It’s not that you are not attracted to each other, because the attraction is as clear as day, and you have done stuff – not sex, but stuff. You’re not sure Max does that, but you also don’t want to be the one who pressures him into having sex with you if he doesn’t want to. Unbeknownst to you, the same goes for Max, who thinks you’re not ready to have sex with him and wants your first time together to be as special as possible.  

So no, you’re not surprised as he gently peals himself from you, causing you to whine again at the loss of him, but instead he gives you a small kiss on the forehead as he mumbles, “Why don’t you take a shower? We’ll go to bed after that.”  

“Is that your way of telling me I smell?” You ask in a playful tone, and he responds to you with a roll of his eyes. “What if I don’t want to go to sleep?”  

“No?” He asks, actively searching your expression for any sign of discomfort or reluctance. “We’ve had a long day, are you sure you don’t want to get some sleep?” The look you give him in return for his question is enough, and he knows this, but he also wants to actually hear the words, so he points, “Use your words, liefje.” 

A puff of breath leaves your lips in annoyance, but, nonetheless, you give him the best puppy dog eyes you can muster as you whine, “Please Maxie, you know what I want.”  

“Do I?” He muses, pulling you onto his lap as he ghosts his lips across your jaw. “I don’t know what you mean.”  

“Maxie,” you drag out his name, whining as your attempt at rolling your hips against his thighs don’t work. “You are being mean.”  

“Oh, baby,” he mockingly copies your pout, “I’m sorry. Can I apologise with a kiss?” To make his point, he presses a couple of soft kisses along your jawline.  

“Will you kiss me the way I like?” You ask, slightly out of breath, but his agreement that comes in the form of a hum makes you smile mischievously. His lips trail more kisses towards the neckline of your dress, and eventually through the valley between your breasts that is exposed by the lack of fabric. And you have every intention to let him have his way with you, you really do – after all, he won another great race. But a part of you also knows that making him suffer, even if just a little bit, in the process is so much more fun. So, just as he’s about to free of your breasts from the bustier of your dress, you quickly move away, slipping from his hands, trying your hardest not to laugh at the bewildered expression on his face. “On second thought, I think I’m going to take that shower after all.”  

“I—what?” Max mumbles, his slightly swollen lips pulled in a pout, and you can’t help but give him a small kiss.  

“I’ll see you after my shower, Max Emilian.” Sauntering over to the bathroom, you make sure to add an extra sway to your hips – and the sigh that Max leaves cause the smirk on your face to grow. 

It’s pure torture for Max to wait until you come out of the shower. Not that he doesn’t think about just joining you, especially after the show you just put on, but that would be giving into what you want – and though Max is a generous lover, he is also stubborn. He is more than happy to give you what you want, as long as it is on his terms. And so, he waits patiently, until you come out of the bathroom, a robe draped over your body, and he can’t help himself but let his eyes roam over your body.  

“How was your shower?” Max asks, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible, a wolfish grin curving up on his lips. He rests his hands behind his head, relaxing onto the pillows behind him. He watches you give him a shrug, the soft-looking material sliding of your shoulder slightly as you collect your hair onto your shoulder. “Are you giving me the silent treatment, pretty girl?” 

There’s a coy smile on your face as you shake your head, once, twice, as your teeth press down on your bottom lip. Max wants nothing more than to release your lip, pull you into his lap and have his way with you, but no. No, because Max is nothing if not disciplined. “Come here,” he asks, straightening up in his place. You, being the ever-loving girlfriend you are, oblige his request. “That is a nice robe,” he murmurs, tilting his head as he grabs the towelette belt with the tips of his finger, “is it as soft as it looks?” 

“Mhm-hm,” you nod, “do you want to feel it?” 

“Do I want to feel it?” Max muses, “Sure.” His arms wrap around your middle so quickly that you don’t realise he’s pulling you into his lap at first. But he positions you with your legs on the either side of his. “You’re right, liefje, it is very soft.” His hands roam on your body over the soft material, but soon enough, his hands dipping underneath it to feel your skin. His eyebrows shoot upwards, a mischievous grin spreading on his lips, “No underwear?” 

“Well, I just came out of the shower, Maxie.” You give him an innocent look, shrugging once against as you rest your hands against his shirt-clad chest. “The shower pressure was great, you should’ve joined me.”  

He lets out a noncommittal hum, his hands roaming on your bare skin, revelling in the softness. “I’ll have to take your word for it.” He’s methodical as he slightly shifts you in his lap, tearing a gasp from the back of your throat. That gets a satisfied smile from him, “Something wrong?” 

“N-no,” you mumble, shifting again to get the same feeling, but his hands still you in your place. “Maxie,” you whine, silently pleading with your eyes.  

“Am I being mean again?” He asks, attentive eyes fixed on you, “I would offer to make it up to you with a kiss, but you seem to find ways to evade me when I do.”  

“No,” you whine again, lips pouted in disagreement. “I promise I won’t this time.”  

His eyebrows shoot up again with amusement, “Oh, yeah? Shall we test that theory, pretty girl?” The smile you give him is shy, but the way you nod is nothing short of coy. With a satisfied sound leaving his lips, he quickly presses his lips against yours. You sigh into the kiss, immediately, when you feel him deepening the kiss, more than happy to surrender yourself to him and let Max take the lead. Though, that doesn’t necessarily stop you from attempting to relieve the pressure between your legs by rolling your hips against his thighs. Your efforts, however, prove to be useless as he stops the movement before you can actually relieve any of it. He slowly pulls away, pushes a stray piece of wet hair behind your ear and tuts – condescendingly, you might add – “Slow down, liefje, I think I’ve had enough speed for one day.”  

Groaning at his words, “But Maxie,” you whine, dragging out his name as you let your hands wander on his chest over his shirt and receive a warning look from him in return, “I promise I’ll be good, please just fuck me.”  

“Baby,” he coos, his fingers working quickly to unfasten the belt of your robe and push the offending clothing off your shoulders, “I literally just told you to be patient, no?” 

You ignore the raised eyebrow, the look of faux-disappointment, and even the way his fingers grab your waist because you’re too busy trying to get him out of his shirt, suddenly feeling too exposed as you sit on his lap naked. “Please,” you whisper against his skin, peppering kisses across the column of his throat as your hands make their way inside his shirt, “I’ll be patient next time.”  

“I’m suddenly realising that I spoil you very much,” Max mumbles, pulling his head back to get a look at you.  

Pulling back as well you give him a mischievous grin, “Maybe, but you’ll give me what I want this time as well.”  

“Yeah?” He asks, “Why?” 

“Because I think I’m getting your pants very messy right now.”  

Max can’t help the groan that escapes past his lips, his eyes quickly following yours as he takes in the ‘damage’ your wetness has caused on his jeans. He takes a moment to assess the damage, drags his eyes up to look at you when he notices the way your eyes stay fixed down, as your nervously bite down on your lower lip. He loses all the composure he managed to muster up, and he finally gives in, quickly pushing you off him onto the pillows on the bed. The squeal that leaves you is followed by a string of giggles that leave your lips, and when Max looks at you, he takes in the darker look in your widened eyes.  

“I was going to be patient; I can’t believe you’re making me not be patient.” He mumbles, taking off his shirt and the rest of his clothes before starting to leave kisses on your feverish skin as he slides down your body and places himself between your thighs.  

You open your legs wider to accommodate his body, a breathy laugh escaping past your lips. “You mean, impatient?” 

That earns you a nip on your upper thigh and a warning look, but instead of commenting on your quip, he lowers his face, keeps his eyes locked to yours and gets to work. And it’s not that you and Max haven’t done stuff – because it’s the opposite; although you haven’t had sex, it’s safe to say that the two you have explored every option bordering on sex. But how he’s acting right now is much different than the way how he is usually with you. His movements are almost rushed, and the way he drags his tongue through your folds is just enough for your eyes to roll back as your moans fill the room.  

Normally, he would be extra careful and make sure he is being gentle with you; but right now, he’s just trying to savour you before he loses all his composure. A choppy gasp leaves you as you feel his fingers enter you – two at first, and the way he pumps them in and out of you makes breathing harder. The speed of his fingers matches his tongue, and for a moment, you think you’re going to pass out. With his free hand, he blocks any type of movement you try with your hips; his palm sneakily presses down on your lower stomach to keep you in your place, but it’s jokes on him because if anything, it just makes you feel even better, and you’re not shy to let him know just how much he’s making you feel good with your moans.  

“Max,” you say his name in a breathy whimper, fingers threading through his hair to guide him, “fuck, I’m so close.” You can practically feel the way his lips curl up, and suddenly, everything about his actions gets faster. His fingers are pistoning in and out of you in an unforgiving pace, in sync with his tongue that works your clit just the same. So, it’s no surprise when you find yourself coming on his tongue as his name leaves your lips for the umpteenth time like a prayer.

The smirk he gives you when he pulls himself from between your legs is sinful – he looks absolutely debauched with the way his lips glisten with your release, and he wastes no time before coming up, and capturing your lips in yet another bruising kiss. But this time, you taste yourself on his tongue and this time it makes you lose the whatever little resolve you’ve had left. So, you hook your leg around his thigh to push him next to you on the bed as you practically throw him next to you on the bed.  

Though he has other plans.   Of course.  

So, as you’re trying to fight the seventy-kilogram-something driver into staying under you on the bed, he has no problem manhandling you into rolling on your side. And as you’re pressed flush against his chest, you turn your head backwards to breathlessly whisper, “You promised, Max.”  

“And I am a man of my word, aren’t I?” He retorts, his hand that is splayed on your thigh positions it so that it’s bent towards your stomach, “Just needed to get you ready.” You can’t help the guttural moan that escapes you when you feel him pressing the tip of his cock into your entrance. The pleading look you give him must’ve worked, because this time it’s his turn to let out a guttural moan as he pushes himself into you. There is no sign of his mood from mere moments ago as you feel his hands caress your bare hip, an entitled smirk on his lips as he asks, “Out of breath?” 

“Fuck you,” your response comes out as a breathy laugh as you’re pushing your hips closer to his to take him deeper.  

“Lifje, you are fucking me.” Max giggles into the crook of your neck as he pushes himself in fully. You would be furious with him if it didn’t make you laugh also, and although the laughing decrease, the smiles remain on both your faces as he starts slowly moving his hips. 

It’s sweet, unbelievably sweet, considering the sexual tension that was in the room an hour ago, but the way Max is fucking you can only be described as sweet. His hands caress every part of your body that he can reach – your thighs, to your hips, to your stomach, to your chest and then wraps one of his hands around your throat; not in a way that is rough, but in a way that he can still keep you still as he captures your lips for another kiss. The movement of his hips is languid, almost lazy as drive into you, but he still manages to hit all the spots along the way. Breathy chuckles are exchanged when he pulls away for you to organise your breathing, but your smiles still stay on, even when he raises your bent leg and rests his on his own leg. The new angle makes your moans get louder, your hips to move against his faster, and you can feel your orgasm approach speedily.  

But Max is so in tune with your body that he knows what’s coming (or rather who) before you get a chance to actually have to say anything. His hand slides down your body so that he can press his fingers to your clit and move them in tight circles, and as if it was possible, his you can suddenly feel him fucking you even deeper. “You are going to come for me pretty girl, I can feel it.” He murmurs into your skin, and all you can offer as an answer is a nod and an affirmative whimper as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Come on, give it to me, come on my cock.” And though he is not the most verbal person to ever exist, except for when he’s in the mood to be an absolute yapper, his words urge you to let go of the feeling that has been starting to brew in your stomach.  

Your hips start moving to meet his in choppy movements as you seek any and all kinds of pleasure to reach your high, and he meets your every move with increasing intensity of his own. “Max, yes!” Your exclamation hits his ears as he hits that one particular spot, making you instantly become lax in his arms as he guides you through your orgasm. His name spills out from your lips in constant repetition, “So good, so good,” you keep mumbling in breathless whimpers, trying to press yourself further into his body.  

With all things considered, it doesn’t take Max long to reach his own high following your own, since you insistently move your hips in a way that makes you take his cock even deeper when he’s helping you ride your orgasm. So, when you hear him groaning your name in the crook of your neck and feel him spilling himself into you. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he croaks out, holding your hips in place with his hands splayed on your feverish skin. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” 

“How am I supposed to know, dummy?” You ask, throwing your head back to get a good look of his dishevelled state, “Why do you look so good after mind blowing sex?” 

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, pulling you with him as he lets himself fall back on the bed, “genetics?” 

“Mhm,” you murmur, trying to find a comfortable position on his chest as he is still inside you, “remind me to send your mother a flower arrangement when we get back, or something.” 

A deep blush covers his cheeks, as if he hasn’t been fucking you for the past hour or so, as he stammers, ���I– I mean, yeah.” This time, it’s your turn to give a non-committal hum, followed by a satisfied sigh as you snuggle him closer and close your eyes. “Just go to sleep, baby, we can deal with it in the morning.” 

“’Mkay,” you mumble, feeling his hand draw soothing circles on your back. “But you’re still gonna fuck me tomorrow, right?” 

This gets another loud laugh from the driver laying down under you, and both of you know that he’s going to do just that when you wake up in the morning. 

[pretty-little-mind33]

fluff ✿ angst ✮ hurt & comfort ✷ smut (nsfm) ♥︎

main masterlist

disclaimer — i enjoy fandom created harry potter content but i DON'T support j.k rowling in any way!!

~ REQUESTS CLOSED ~

most popular - WILDEST DREAMS ✿ - Finding out that your ex-best friend might have smelt you in the Amortentia feels as surreal as you smelling him.

author's favorite - SAY DON'T GO ✿✮✷ - When your long-term boyfriend is slipped a love potion—he loses his memory of you.

latest work - CHRISTMAS TREE FARM ✿ - You and James bake gingerbread cookies.

~ BLURB MASTERLIST ~

~ HEADCANONS ~

fem!reader with an abusive ex

fem!reader who is in a relationship with him

fem!reader who is nervous about the gym

fem!reader pulling on his tie

~ FICS ~

James x debutant!reader

KING OF MY HEART ✿ - You and James are friends with benefits until daisies and an incident with one asshole Quidditch player stirs up some hidden (or not-so-hidden) feelings.

MAROON ✿ - James usually doesn't like violence but he'll fight anyone who bad-mouths his girlfriend.

LAVENDER HAZE ♥︎ - Having a thing for your best friend's dad was your dirty little secret. Up until it wasn't so secret anymore.

THIS LOVE ✿ - Sometimes your lovely boyfriend can have a hard time with the word 'no'.

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL ✿✷✮ - You've never had your first kiss — well not until you stupidly kiss the boy you've had a crush on since forever, the same boy who happens to be your best friend.

FOOLISH ONE ✮ - James was and would never be yours.

TIMELESS ✿✷ - James wants to take you out to one of his families' fancy parties. However, he underestimates how cruel people can be when someone is different.

ENCHANTED ✿ - Three weeks after his devastating break up with Lily, James wanted Remus and Sirius to bring him to a muggle bar in central London. Prequel to Timeless

SWEETER THAN FICTION ✿ - After months of dating, James finally tells you he's a wizard. Pt. 2 of Enchanted

YOU ARE IN LOVE ✿ - You never realized how much of an idiot your brother's best friend is until he becomes jealous.

GLITCH ♥︎ - You never intended to admit you would fuck James Potter. You hate him. Well, turns out you hate him a little less when he's touching you in ways you'd only dreamed of.

STAY BEAUTIFUL ✿✷- When you overhear some of James's friends comment on your weight, James comforts you.

SANTA BABY ✿ - James wants to make his family's Christmas special.

SNOW ON THE BEACH ✿✷ - When your eleven-year-old son comes home for Christmas break in tears, you and James are instantly worried.

NEW ROMANTICS ✿✷ - When your "friends" play a dangerously stupid prank on you, James is the last person you'd think would help you.

COLD AS YOU ✷✮ - You want your boyfriend's attention again.

I THINK HE KNOWS ♥︎ - Your boyfriend promises to watch over you when you want to get drunk.

BEGIN AGAIN ✿ - James has been persuing you for years and you've never said yes, until now?

END GAME ✿✷ - Playing Quidditch against your secret boyfriend is usually fun…

GOLD RUSH ✿✷✮ - You're a stupid drunk and James Potter is very very bad at dealing with his romantic feelings.

DAYLIGHT ♥︎ - When your boyfriend finds out he didn't make you come, his anger quickly turns into lust.

THE ALCOTT ✮ - You love James but he loves Lily. It's simple until it isn't so simple anymore.

SUBURBAN LEGENDS ✿✷ - James tries to teach you how to ice skate — in the same universe as Dear Reader

SAY DON'T GO ✿✮✷ - When your long-term boyfriend is slipped a love potion—he loses his memory of you.

SO HIGH SCHOOL ✿ - You have a massive crush on James. One you didn't think would ever lead anywhere until a drunken party in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"SLUT!" ♥︎ - Your brother's best friend teaches you pleasures you've never experienced before.

I CAN SEE YOU ✷✿ - James panics when he sees what his boggart is.

COME IN WITH THE RAIN ✷ - You comfort your darling boyfriend after an overwhelming sight at your muggle grandparents' house.

HIGH INFIDELITY ✷ - You'd kept your relationship with James a secret up until you couldn't anymore. Pt. 2 of Lavender Haze

GORGEOUS ♥︎ - You and James stumble upon an ancient book of spells rumored to enhance pleasure.

DEAR READER ✿ - You wait for your boyfriend after his game — In the same universe as Suburban Legends

PAPER RINGS ✿ - James is the best boyfriend while you're sick.

CHRISTMAS TREE FARM ✿ - You and James bake gingerbread cookies.

[izzystizzys]

As High Marshall Commander, a title foisted on him by the Galaxy’s fakest bitch aka Chancellor Palpatine, Fox theoretically has privileges and authorities like no other clone. In practice, he has a headache and gets ignored more obviously than before.

What he also has is a fancy new function on his personal comm unit modified to broadcast GAR-wide to all commanding officers, up to and including Jedi. It gathers dust next to his own modified button that sees much better use - a private channel to Stone, the only vod that will let Fox bitch at him to his heart’s content without hanging up (Thire) or bitching right back (Thorn).

It’s been a long shift of 72 hours, the maximum Stabby allows him to do without a well-placed hypo to the neck, when Fox finally collapses on his rickety cot in the Command quarters and hits the private comm connection to Stone without looking. He’s already rolling his eyes so hard it tweaks at the migraine that’s been building since hour 18 and heaving a put-upon sigh.

“Everyone is stupid, Stone, and asking to be thrown face-first from the Dome balustrades”, he begins, settling into a low, dead tone of voice to warm to the building monologue. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. “I swear to haran I’m going to wring Amedda’s stringy neck one of these days. I don’t know what magical Force gods his mother pissed off, but they made sure to punish her and the Galaxy at large a hundred times over. He sucks the joy and competence out of every room like a black hole of stupid. I’d call him a has-been, but I trust in the power of nepotism and also just don’t believe he ever was. I swear he’s doing it on purpose and - oh, kriffing Sith-damned hells, you know who’s definitely doing it on purpose?! The kriffing Chancellor, that wrinkly ass-faced ballsack!”

Taking a deep breath, Fox lets that sit in his chest for a moment, indulging in the feeling of bright weightlessness. “I swear he’s trying to keep the war going - no one man can be that incompetent and still draw breath, not even Amedda or Taa. Goddamn Taa - but anyways, kriffing hell, Stone, either the senility isn’t an act or he’s a bad cartoon villain from Dooby Scoo. Yes Sir, sending Senator Amidala to a Seppie-infested planet for negotiations is a great idea after her fourth bomb threat of the week. No Sir, I can’t hear you cackling evilly with Count Dooku under your lame two-credit robe as you’re definitely not colluding with the Republic’s enemies. What, you have a red lightsaber?! Oh, of course I don’t know what that means, I was dropped on the head as a tubie!”

Barely pulling in a harsh breath, Fox continues, palms pressing into his eyeballs hard enough to cause sparks. “And speaking of lightsabers and senile fucks, haran smite my ass off but who the kriff thought it’d be a good idea to give absolute tactical and military authority to the kriffing eldritch space monks! The Force didn’t bless them with the collective good sense it gave to a kriffing rock, and I’m tired of pretending otherwise! Has anyone kriffing read the Theed Convention of Sentient Rights in Wartimes?! NO?!! Well, color me UNSURPRISED, because war crimes ARE NOT! GOOD! BATTLE! TACTICS!!”

“They run around in crop tops, Stone, in crop tops! Oh, the Force provides - WELL I’M GOING TO PROVIDE MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS, AND IT’S GOING TO HURT BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT WEARING KRIFFING ARMOUR!”

“Sure, let’s send the preteens into active warzones under heavy artillery in kriffing party wear! Surely nothing will ever go wrong! And give them commanding positions equivalent to CC-clones, WHO WERE LITERALLY GENETICALLY CREATED FOR IT! WITH A DECADE OF INTENSE TRAINING! LET’S DO THAT, BECAUSE WE’RE ALL KRIFFING STUPID!”

He’s gesturing wildly at the ceiling now, face heating up as his blood boils beneath the surface. “And you know what really gets my lowers in a twist, apart from the preteen commanding officers and blatant kriffing high treason and war profiteering?! Is it the complete lack of recognition? Gratitude? Basic sentient rights?! No, Stone, no, I would take all that in stride if it meant I never had to see Skywalker and Amidala kriffing canoodle right in front of me again, and pretend like it isn’t the galaxy’s worst conflict of interest case in the making!”

“By all levels of Sith-hell, what the kriff is wrong with that woman? You have it all, you could have anyone, and you choose that twatwaffle?! And then they have the gall to lock themselves in a broom closet for twenty minutes straight and have me guard it! ‘Oh yes, Senator, naturally we all go rattling brooms with our good friends! Nothing dodgy happening at all! I definitely believe you were looking for detergent and have used a washing machine before!’ The absolute nerve on those two! And then last week - you’ll never believe this - High General Windu passed by, and I swear he looked like he wanted to throw himself off the roof! I’ve never been less impressed by anyone in my life, and I’m batch-mates with Bly!”

“Speaking of Bly, that little bitchtit - if I have to edit one more, one more kriffing propaganda piece of him staring at General Secura’s bits, I’m going to stab my eye out! And if I have to edit one more of Secura staring at his bits, I’m going to stab the other one out! The only good thing I have to say about them is they’re more subtle than Skywalker and Amidala, which means nothing really. I will never understand that woman - but then she’s worked with Jar Jar Binks for a decade and not had a nervous breakdown, so she either has nerves of steel or is on some good-ass drugs.”

“Girl, your choices. And you know what else is a choice? Kote kriffing roundhouse-kicking heads off droids when he has a perfectly good blaster right there! I don’t know what the Longnecks put in his tube, but I hope to kriff it’s not contagious. I’d say I’m glad he has Kenobi to keep him in check, but that man wouldn’t know common sense if it punched his nose clean off his face. Flirting with General Grievous, ugh. I’d say he can do better, but honestly, they deserve each other.”

“And Wolffe - “, panting, Fox pauses, considering. “Well, Wolffe is an asshole and stupid, and I hate him because he’s stupid and has a stupid face. Also he keeps drunkenly submitting adoption paperwork on General Koon’s behalf - I wish I could say something mean about that, but honestly, his existence is roast enough. Anyways, bitches are trying me today, and by bitches I mean everyone. Commander Fox signing off to go not commit treason, unfortunately.”

Thoroughly powered out, Fox sinks into his hard mattress with a deep sigh. Several seconds of silence reign, and then his comm unit starts blaring in alarm.

Somewhere in the Jedi Temple, Mace Windu is knocked flat on his ass by a gargantuan shatterpoint exploding.

[thebearme]

the tf2 art of the month

[koiiiji]

since nobody asked anything in comment section in THIS post i decided to came up with something by myself. now i know you little rogues not reading author notes🤨

Nightly Rituals

LOOKISM & WINDBREAKER BOYS WHILE YOU DOING YOUR SKINCARE ROUTINE BEFORE BED

Gun

Park Jung Gun likes your presence in his apartments, it’s always little bit more warmer and cozy with you. Especially he likes time before bed, and both of you small routines. well, he could call his routine small - just stealing some incomprehensible bottles from you, he doesn’t bother his head to read it, as long as it seems to smooth his skin he use it! also, maybe reading some book or answering to forgotten messages while he waiting for you from the shower - that’s his usual routine before bed.

he could hear the water in shower stop flowing, you wrapped yourself in a towel and slipped out of the bathroom. picking and putting on your pajama the inescapable process has been started. Jung Gun learned your skincare routine perfectly - you always start with your face adding toner, letting it dry while you adding extra products on your hair, then you using millions of bottles - moisturizers, essence, serums, creams on your face, then switching to your body, and finally drying your hair and final step - adding that tasty smelling oil on your hair and boom! you are ready for… bed… “Hun, admit it honestly, you really enjoy all this stuff and not getting tired every time?” he said, getting comfortable and pulling you towards him “It’s one of the ways of meditation you know, Gun?” you murmur softly into his chest

Ma Taesoo

Taesoo enjoys 100% of time when you staying in his apartments. he honestly asked you few times to move in with him, but you politely rejected this idea (i headcanon that Taesoo live in stereotypical bachelor designed apartment… imagine bathroom with no place to put all your bottles? and rooms with cold/neutral lights? brrr, my horror honestly)

and here he are - sprawled out in bed, with his hands behind his head and leaning on the headboard, watching you. in turn, you occupied the table in his room, laying out your makeup bag, hair dryer and some other little things there, and now you were fussily rushing from the bedroom to the bathroom to wash your hands, looking in the mirror with this terrible cold-white lighting in the bathroom. Taesoo chuckled softly, when he saw how you add another cream on your body - specifically on your thighs, saying with his husky voice “Chill woman, enough marinating yourself in all that jojoba creams, im not gonna eat you alive, while you sleep” he grinned at you and pulled you into your shared bed. “Maybe not gonna eat, but you know sweet” he said hugging you from behind, burrowing his nose into your neck “You smell so good and nice that i might change my mind.”

Vinny

it was nice to came to Vinny in apartments that Juwon give to him, honestly better than his previous home. the soft glow of bedside lamps cast a warm ambience across the room, painting shadows that danced along the walls. Vinny lounged in bed, his attention divided between a phone in his hands and the anticipation of your return. you finally took your time after preparing for final exams, allowing yourself to indulge in the luxury of self-care, a small act of kindness to soothe both body and soul. you slowly going through your skincare routine, gently massaging essence into your cheeks and admiring yourself in mirror.

Vinny shifted against the pillows, his gaze drifting to the doorway as he eagerly awaited your return. the soft shuffle of footsteps drew his attention, and his heart skipped a beat as you appeared in the doorway, bathed in the soft glow of the moon and city lights outside the window. as you settled beside him, he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch gentle against your skin. "Hey," he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. "I've missed you." you leaned into his touch, your heart overflowing with love for the man beside you. "I missed you too," you replied, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. in that moment, as you curled up together beneath the covers, everything seems right in the world, every problem just disappeared.

Wooin

he always like to violate and invade your personal space. not that you were against it, like now, when he flatly refused to wait for you in bed while you completed your six-step skincare routine and chose to join you. he insisted that he wanted that black mask be put on his skin, while you muttered that he should clean his skin first and then add serum and only after put that mask on. "Babe, why so many unnecessary steps, you know that this mask won't make big changes anyway, right?" he whine like a child who tired of shopping for groceries, when he only agreed to came because his mum promised to buy him some chips. "Because it's the whole thing about skincare, hun!!! You doing it not because of effect, but for the process!! Trust the process you know??!" you said turning to him with annoyed face and that funny crab hair band that Wooin bought for you last time he went to shopping center. he said it looked cool and reminded him of you when you blushing.

after the last five minutes of him hovering around you like an annoying fly, whining about how he wanted a mask too, you finally gave up. going to the refrigerator and deftly pulling out a black bubble mask, you went into the room. and Wooin looked out of the bathroom in bewilderment - where did you go if he was in the other room? as you returning to bathroom, you made him sit on the side of the tub and pulled the same hairband over his head, only green in the shape of a toad, “They didn’t have anything with snakes, so i thought another amphibian would be a good idea too.” you said pulling his hair up and putting that most wanted black bubble mask on his face.

༘⋆🌷🫧💭 ⋆˙

⊹ xo - xo ⊹

author’s note ; okay now serious topic, empty blogs, pls update at least something in your blogs - age, some info like “here for fics/reblogs/etc/“ or at least some pfp, otherwise i will recognize you as bot blogs and will block you, thank u!

[idyllcy]

frog - jinshi x reader (Spoiler Warning for Chapter 63 of the manga)

"hng." Jinshi whimpers, face flushed as you freeze.

It's a frog. You fucking swear it's a frog. You didn't just accidentally grab and squeeze Jinshi, a fucking eunuch's, dick. You did not. You are hallucinating. That was the frog that jumped on you and knocked you off balance— nOT Jinshi's dick or whatever. He shouldn't even have one!

"Sorry." You sit up, legs still straddling Jinshi as you get off of his chest. "I saw a frog and fell."

Jinshi sits up with you, face flushed in embarrassment as you pray you can play stupid out of this one. It was hard enough that he literally witnessed you hurl a rock at the assassin with eerie precision, but you would rather die than have to die with Jinshi because you found out he wasn't a eunuch.

Every day your loyalty is tested when around this man.

"That makes this way easier." Jinshi sighs, grabbing you by the shoulder as you tense up to lean back from him. "I have a confession to make. I—"

"I think I killed the frog." You mumble, face pale. You're acting. You have to. You are not following Jinshi to the grave and cleaning up the aftermath of his ass getting someone pregnant.

"No, listen, that wasn't—"

"Oh my god, I'm not gonna make it to heaven." You mumble again, staring at your hand before wiping it on your chest. "Master Jinshi, I'm going to hell."

"No, that wasn't—"

"I'm going to hell because I crushed a frog..." You mumble.

Jinshi gets fed up with your acting, pushing you backward into the dirt as he cages you in, lifting your leg as he presses his clothed erection into you. You yelp, trying to crawl away, but he holds you in place, eyes staring through yours to your soul as you shake underneath him. Playing stupid didn't work this time.

"That was not a frog," and he rolls his hips against yours for emphasis, watching as you mentally restrain yourself from moaning. God, since when were you this lewd?! "Stop playing stupid, pretty one. You gave it a good squeeze too."

You freeze up as he lowers himself ever so slowly, and you blurt your thoughts out before you can think of what the best choice is at the moment.

"I am not having my first kiss on the dirt in a cave!" You cry, praying that it's enough. Seriously, you aren't following Jinshi to the grave. He may be hot, and women may throw themselves at him and men turn gay for him and nations go to war for him but you are not following him to the grave. Your loyalty does not lay that strong. You don't want to die just yet.

Jinshi leans in anyway, lips brushing yours as a bark sounds above you as you call back, and you sigh in relief when you hear Maomao's voice.

You're saved. Oh heavens, you're saved.

[mossmx]

While Merlin is trending I want to thank the whole Merlin fandom

people who have been with us since 2008 and people who have just started watching, people who have left us too soon but will be forever in our hearts and people who switched fandoms but are still amazing

whereter you create, lurk, cheer or just cry in the corner (most of us have been there lol) every part of the Merlin fandom is always part of our family

even if we have no reason to trend we will always have a reason to celebrate :D

[ro-bee]

i'm obsessed with @redcrowncafe fic... is so good i had to make some fanart

left a meme below for you guys

demons in my head told me to make this real :)

[cryingatships]

OK SINCE AO3 IS BACK, everyone read my JokeZo fic go go go go

The Result of Little Schemes

Fandom - Hidden Agenda

Rating - Explicit (E)

Words - 2,638

Oneshot, completed.

Summary -

Joke really, really likes Zo’s lips. That’s it that’s the fic (with smut this time!)

(The link isn't working ig cause of ao3's new way to keep roaches off the site? Idc copy paste it. We love ao3 in this house no hate to ao3 is allowed here.)

EDIT - IT WORKS NOW!

like, I posted this right before the site went down. and made edits while the site was back for like a minute. I feel so Accomplished and Great. Take this lgbt queer fiction, you f-ing hackers! Right at your face!

[anonomi]

sketches of my favourte fic and ship ever <3 <3

[risingoftime]

AGAINST ALL ODDS | CORIOLANUS SNOW X PLINTH!READER | CHAPTER TWO

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The air in the vehicle was thick with tension, and Noll had yet to round the corner away from the industrial side of Panem, where the Academy resided. You knew it was coming before Coriolanus opened his mouth to speak.

“Do you have feelings for Romulus?” He asked.

His breath was steady as he waited for your response. Coriolanus was meticulous when displaying his emotions, and he wouldn't expose his hand if not necessary. You sighed exasperated, “I like him, as any friend would.” Choosing your words carefully, although there were no lingering ears, Coriolanus would hold onto any admission you gave him.

“Well then, I advise you to reconsider the company you keep.” Was that a threat? Coriolanus wouldn't bring him harm for being your friend, would he? Unsure if you should challenge his abilities to do so. Sejanus once told you of Coriolanus's proficiency in influence in a letter, and you were conscious of your lack thereof. He was not a person that you wished to have as a rival. Although Coriolanus and you were not yet enemies, you weren't friends either.

"He's my only friend, Coriolanus. Do you truly wish for me to be a recluse? I don't want to be seen as a lone wolf, too.” Your voice was docile enough, a silent plea for him to let this one go. And he did, for now, at least.

Of course, it would be great to have more friends, but as of late, it was hard to decipher who truly wanted to know you for you or as “Snow's fiancee and Sejanus’ sister.” The students of the Academy are captivated by secrets and use them as currency to push their agendas. Your association with Coriolanus Snow made yours even more expensive. Especially now that he had made quite the name for himself as the young apprentice learning underneath the infamous Dr. Volumnia Gaul. Coriolanus was one of the few mentors who survived the 10th Hunger Games, and District 12 as a Peacekeeper at eighteen was not an easy feat.

The vehicle halted to a stop in front of the building that you called home. Before Coriolanus exited, he turned to you and said, “If Romulus touches you, even once, he may as well be as good as dead.” You jumped at the impact of the door slamming as you watched Coriolanus retreat to the penthouse. He hadn't bothered to turn to see your reaction. When the day was all said and done, Coriolanus didn’t care to maintain the illusion of being in love if no one could witness it.

Coriolanus didn’t enjoy the thought of another having access to what he deemed rightfully his, and that is you. As a child, you thought Coriolanus to be self-indulgent. He’d never bothered to keep others close to him unless they proved themselves beneficial somehow. When you learned that the Snow family was practically penniless, you assumed that Coriolanus was being protective over Tigris and Grandma’am. But it was now revealed that he is egotistic and maybe jealous.

Noll offered you a half-smile while ushering you inside the penthouse. He had most likely heard what was said in the vehicle. Noll hadn’t been your assigned driver for long. Looking closer, you could see the signs of his aging. His curly ginger hair now had more gray hairs, and his brown eyes revealed crow's feet when he smiled. He’d come from District Four, leaving behind his wife and daughter, and that was all you knew about him, given his limited communication ability.

“Ma, I’m home!” you yelled out.

The luxurious condo smelled of baked goods. Ma came around the corner and walked to the grand mahogany oak and gold dining table with sugar cookies and pie in hand.

“I missed you! You’ve been gone for so long.”

She set the dishes down and wiped her hands on her apron before cradling your face. “No need to worry, Ma. I was just at the Academy.” She pulled you in closer for a hug and took a deep breath, grounding herself. “I know, it’s just– after… everything. I’m glad you’re home.” Ma choked on her words. Ma was one of the main reasons you went along with the marriage. She became like this often, holding on to a thread, hoping it won’t snap.

“Did you make these for me?” Desperate to lighten the mood and give a distraction to your mother.

“Yeah, thought you ought to have a snack while you do your homework. Don’t touch the pie, though!” Ma readjusted her apron, which she wore when you were a child in the Districts. The kitchen had always been her safe space, and Pa hadn’t bothered to argue when she packed her culinary decor from our childhood home.

“Why? Does it still need to settle?” you asked.

“The Snows are coming for dinner tonight. Didn’t your father tell you? I told him to.”

Ma was summoned by the chirp of her alarm in the kitchen, signalling her to base and tend to the turkey. Leaving you to begin your work in the dining room. Pondering on the essay assignment by Professor Satyria, “How is all of Panem complicit in the Games?” You began writing:

A sickening hierarchy is ingrained within Panem’s complicity—compliance, driven by a control system, infiltrating every corner of our nation. Dismally, as long as we remain compliant with the spectacle of the Games, we come to be complicit, in varying degrees, in the horrors that unfold. The Capitolites, the privileged few who reside in the opulent heart of Panem, are the profiteers of this labyrinthine system. They revel in the grotesque mockery made of the district Deaths, reaping the benefits of this cadaverous entertainment.

The pen moved swiftly across your notebook as your thoughts moved faster than you could write. The essay could’ve been completed in one night if given more time. The dinner with the Snow family would take up the rest of the evening, and with everyone in attendance, it must be due to something of importance.

𓇢𓆸

The dress that you chose was tighter than you had remembered. It’s been a while since you’ve had to get ready to socialize due to the Academy requiring their students to wear uniforms, and your father was invited to fewer gatherings than before. Knowing the Snow family, they would come wearing their Sunday best, especially with Tigris’ promotion as one of Fabricia‘s stylists at her storefront. She had access to a plethora of fabrics and textures.

Walking down the grand staircase in heels posed a threat to your safety, given the fact that the dress felt snug around the knees. You have been so focused on your feet that you hadn’t noticed Coriolanus lounging in the living room. He held your schoolbook in his hand, deep in thought as he read.

“Hasn’t your mother taught you that it’s impolite to search through other people's things?” you cleared your throat and raised your eyebrows as he continued to finish the last sentence.

“You left it open on the dining table. I would hardly call that searching,” Coriolanus scoffed. Turning around to look down the hall, you could see that your school supplies had been moved as the Avox housekeeper set the dining table for dinner.

“Where is Grandma’am and Tigris?” Ma remained upstairs, still composing herself for the evening, and Pa was surely in his study. Yet, Coriolanus had made himself at home on the couch.

“You don’t see yourself as a part of the Capitol? You confuse those from the Districts as Martyrs,” answering your question with his own.

“I’m not from the Capitol. Isn’t that the point of our matrimony? For the Plinths— my father, to successfully assimilate into your world. I’m not confused. The districts are martyrs, in my eyes; their only crime was rebelling against the Capitol during the dark days.” Your voice was slightly raised and laced with conviction. The anger you had swallowed earlier in the day had arisen again and was harder to conceal.

“Careful, you’re beginning to sound like Sejanus.” Confirming the mistake you had made to disclose that to Coriolanus.

“I am his sister after all.” Consequently, you should’ve known better, but it felt good. Your eyes challenged him to speak, to say anything indecent about Sejanus. Coriolanus did not grieve your brother in the way that you had, and maybe it’s juvenile, but you would’ve wished for your brother’s best friend to be more distraught.

Cogs turned Coriolanus’s mind to how to settle the dispute without escalating further. His gaze roamed over your stature, only now taking in the way the garment hugged your figure, not leaving much to the imagination, unlike the uniform he's used to seeing you in. Pfft, typical.

Strabo Plinth entered the living room from his study. “Ah, Coriolanus, you’ve found her.” He said this as if he had gone searching for you. Your father only sought you out if he needed something. The relationship was purely transactional. 

“Yes, I was telling your daughter the good news.” The lie came easily to him. 

“Marvellous! Let me fetch my wife, please, both of you make your way to the table. I’m sure Tigris will be here any minute with your grandmother.” Your father offered a tight-lip smile before retreating to the main bedroom. 

“Good news?” You asked. 

“Dr. Gaul would like me to be a game maker in the 11th Hunger Games, and she’s tasked me with the opportunity to implement new reforms.” Coriolanus smiled wide, flashing his white teeth. He was beaming with pride from the decision. He would be one of the youngest ever to do so. Your stomach turned at the vision of Coriolanus subjecting another generation of tributes to his advanced military strategies. 

 𓇢𓆸

The sound of scraping utensils and chewing was all that you could hear as you all silently ate the feast that Ma had prepared for supper. The table was filled with food; knowing Ma, she would have the Snow’s leave with plenty of leftovers. Ma and Pa sat at the head of the table while Coriolanus sat beside you, with Tigris and Grandma’am sitting across. Grandma’am had not said much throughout the evening. The woman was in her private world and often muttered incoherently under her breath. Tigris remained polite and entertained Ma’s attempts to make small talk. 

“Oh, Tigris, I had forgotten to ask! Would you be willing to help me with some of the decor for the wedding shower?” Ma exclaimed. You stopped chewing your food and found it difficult to swallow. This dinner was about the wedding. You and Tigris met eyes briefly. The two of you hadn’t many conversations, but she was the closest you’ll ever have to a sister. 

“Why is the maid talking?” Grandma’am said. 

You looked at the older woman, unsure if you were to pity Grandma’am or set her straight once and for all. The sickness of old age overtook her mind, but she never forgot to turn up her nose at anyone she presumed to be beneath her. 

Tigris cleared her throat and corrected her, “Grandma’am, that’s Mrs. Plinth, remember? Coriolanus is getting married to her daughter.”

“Coriolanus is getting married! It should happen on top of the penthouse that overlooks the city of Panem, with my rose garden surrounding it. Beautiful, isn’t it?” she exclaimed. 

“I think that would be a lovely idea, Mrs. Snow.” Stabo’s facial expression was rigid, his voice void of emotion. He’d only talk like that when he was displeased. Sejanus was usually on the receiving end of this, and it was bittersweet that for once, he wasn’t. 

Ma’s face was slightly tinged pink from embarrassment, but she hid it well, unlike Coriolanus, who looked agitated by Grandma’am’s condition. There was no trace of empathy on his face. 

“When will the wedding shower be?” you asked. 

“In two weeks, your eighteenth birthday will be a grand celebration.”

“My birthday! Out of all dates, Pa, please.” 

“We’ve already sent out the invitations; don’t be crass. Three events within the next month are overkill, and your mother has already booked the venue.” Your father took another sip of his white liquor, dismissing you. 

Tigris tried to lift your spirits, “I’ve been daydreaming of the most breathtaking dress that would be perfect. It’ll be the talk of Panem.” You offered her a small smile. 

“If anyone could turn rags to riches, it’s Tigris,” Coriolanus added.  

Tigris's eyes narrowed at the comment, but Coriolanus hadn’t noticed, taking more food on his plate. It didn’t matter how much he’d eaten. There was always an insatiable hunger for more. He ate as if any meal could be his last. And like that, the dinner commenced as it had before.

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[sunshyni]

Oioi, faz uma coisinha bem sugestiva com o Chenle, pls? 💜

fingers | zcl

resumo: é o seu aniversário de 21 anos e Chenle tem dedos lindos.

Chenle × fem!reader | sugestivo | w.c: 0.7k

notinha da sun: provavelmente ninguém sabe, mas teve uma vez que eu postei um smut curtíssimo do Haechan e exclui tipo umas 3 horas depois?? Então, essa aqui me deixou mais envergonhada do que essa tentativa falha de smut que nunca mais verá o sol KKKKK Mas espero que você (anon) e todos os demais solzinhos gostem disso!! Peço perdão por ser uma escritora meia boca, mas aparentemente tá no meu dna 🤷‍♀️

siiimmm, escrevi com “21” do Dean no fone, te amu Dean

Era o seu aniversário de 21 anos. Chenle organizou uma festinha na piscina com os amigos mais próximos, mas naquele fim de tarde, quase todo mundo já tinha ido embora. Só restavam o mesmo grupinho de garotos de sempre e você, exausta, deitada no sofá da sala, o cômodo começando a ficar alaranjado e escuro devido ao fim do dia. Seu cabelo estava levemente gelado ainda pelo caldo que levou do namorado, mas não o suficiente para molhar o sofá. O vestidinho solto que usava como saída de praia — bom, nesse caso de piscina — cobria o biquíni simples, uma das suas maiores escolhas daquele dia.

Você ponderou praticamente a manhã toda pensando se deveria desistir e escolher o maiô das aulas de natação, que te deixava extremamente confortável. Não que o biquíni não tivesse o mesmo efeito, o problema é que nunca aparecera praticamente de sutiã e calcinha na frente de Chenle, então estava com medo do seu olhar. Mas você parou de pensar nisso quando o viu, os olhos brilhando, contente, afastando seus cabelos na hora de assoprar as velinhas. Definitivamente, o Zhong era o melhor namorado do mundo.

— Quer que eu te empurre na piscina de novo? — Ele questionou, adentrando o cômodo pela porta de vidro que dava direto para os fundos, onde a piscina estava. Você elevou o corpo pelos cotovelos e viu o momento exato em que Jaemin afundou Jeno pela cabeça. — Acredita que me queimei?

Ele abaixou a bermuda um pouco, só para você ver a diferença de pigmentação, e você ergueu os olhos para ele, um sorrisinho lascivo crescendo aos pouquinhos, que Chenle não demorou muito para perceber.

— Você é suja — ele disse, mas não conseguiu disfarçar o sorrisinho bobo enquanto balançava os cabelos loiros molhados na sua direção. — Vai, abre as pernas.

Você o fez, e Chenle deitou de bruços sobre você, o rosto enterrado no seu pescoço, suas pernas o envolvendo, pele com pele. Gostaria de ficar naquela posição para sempre. Você acariciou os cabelos que pingavam dele, sentindo-o praticamente ronronar no seu pescoço.

— Quero te dar outro presente — ele disse baixinho, levantando o rosto um pouco para te olhar nos olhos. Você o beijou estalado nos lábios, e Chenle sorriu. — Mas tá no meu quarto, vamo' subir?

— Sério? — Você provocou, contornando sua clavícula com o dedo indicador, fazendo ele se arrepiar um pouco com o toque sutil. Chenle beijou a linha do seu maxilar, uma das mãos acomodando melhor sua perna ao redor dele, segurando sua coxa. — Acho que você pode me dar aqui mesmo.

Chenle te olhou desacreditado com a frase carregada de duplo sentido, e você desviou o olhar, embora sorrisse sem conseguir se conter.

— Acabou de fazer 21 e já tá assim? Não desvia o olhar não, garota — ele segurou seu rosto, beijando seus lábios, roubando todo seu fôlego. Você quase revirou os olhos com os beijos aprimorados no seu pescoço; Chenle sabia que você amava, que te deixava molinha nos braços dele, por isso tinha se aprimorado naquela arte em todo aquele tempo que namoravam, reconhecendo exatamente do que você gostava. Nem percebeu que tinha fechado os olhos de êxtase quando ele elevou minimamente o tronco, e você de repente sentiu a falta dos beijos no seu pescoço. — Tá fechando as pernas, preciso que você as mantenha abertas, só um pouquinho mais.

— O que você tá pensando? — você disse. Provavelmente, suas pupilas tinham dobrado de tamanho, assim como as de Zhong naquele momento. Sentia o corpo formigar, a respiração acelerada, o coração do mesmo jeitinho. Chenle sorriu meio sem fôlego, beijou seus lábios devagarinho, fazendo um barulhinho quando se afastou.

— Gosta das minhas mãos, né? Vou te presentear com meus dedos.

— Em condições normais, eu diria que isso foi bem mórbido, mas tô excitada no momento — você disse, sorrindo, e Chenle te acompanhou, vermelho por causa do sol e agora por causa do calor e da excitação. A mão dele passou por entre seus corpos. Você nunca tinha recebido aquilo, então prendeu a respiração ao sentir ele afastar o tecido do biquíni e adentrar, espalhando sua excitação com um só dedo.

— Tá prendendo a respiração? — ele perguntou, beijando suas pálpebras e te fazendo finalmente perceber que tinha fechado os olhos. Ele sorriu para você, achando fofo seu nervosismo. — Tá tudo bem, vou fazer bem gostoso.

— Chenle, eu te... — você começou, mas deixou escapar um gemidinho meio tímido com apenas o movimento circular e lento que ele fez ao redor do lugar especial.

— Também te amo. Feliz aniversário, amor.

@sunshyni. Todos os direitos reservados.

[mamawasatesttube]

Hi!

Would you happen to have any fic rec that respect Kon (and Tim) as a character and don't write a totally other character with just the same name?

(I really do not have any criteria, i don't care if there is a romantic ship or not I really just want to read a fic with the least amount of mischaracterization as possible-)

I really like your blog so I thought that I would ask!!

hiya!! this is gonna be a short and noncomprehensive list because unfortunately i have a migraine today and braining is hard, but def check out my general #fic rec tag too!

chrysalis by @loisinherlane. its a superfam fic about kon and the concept of growing up and it makes me so 🥺 the kon & ma and the kon & kara bits in particular. oaugh

fill in the blanks by @mindshelter is just so cute. its temporary amnesiac tim looking at kon and immediately going heart eyes. great look at kon from an "outsider" perspective AND fun insight into how tim's ridiculous mind works!

practical applications of a memorized heartbeat by @comphetkoncass tim gets fucked up and kon gets to put his ttk skills to the test (i.e. life-saving medical ttk applications). i dearly love when kon is Competent!!!!!

i want your complications too by @loisinherlane is more about clois than kon, but he features here as a 7 year old clone that superman rescued from cadmus early and i die every time bc hes so Fuckigningngng cute. babby.

hand on my stupid heart by @misspickman gets me in the "kon you have fucking issues please get help buddy" (he will not) department. the smallville parts (lori!!!! my beloved!!!!) are particularly chefs kiss!!

within the rubble and the harvest by @radioactive-earthshine for. well! speaking of kon and smallville!!!! ahhghgh!!! KON and SMALLVILLE!!! im so fascinated by his adjustment period and his love for ma and pa and. ough. all the tiny details are so good too. i love u kon and smallville.

AND finally not to toot my own horn but in case you haven't already seen MY kon fics, a quick self-plug here:

the courage of stars by... ME!!!! a kon post-resurrection character study dealing with the overlap of internalized homophobia and all that suicidal ideation he's been carrying around from day one. what's a guy supposed to do when he's pretty sure he came back wrong, 'cuz he's pretty sure he was never supposed to come back at all, but no one else can see it?

[pretty-little-mind33]

fluff ✿ angst ✮ hurt & comfort ✷ smut (nsfm) ♥︎

OUR LAST SUMMER ✿ - Your best friend "helps" you organize your old belongings to move them to the cellar.

TAKE A CHANCE ON ME ✮ - You want to help your boyfriend with his prank but it goes horribly wrong (happy ending)

HEAD OVER HEELS ✿♥︎- You stay over at your boyfriend's house for the holidays.

LAY ALL YOUR LOVE ON ME ✷ - Girls can be mean and your boyfriend isn't having any of it.

DOES YOUR MOTHER KNOW ✿♥︎ - James is older than you so he thinks he knows better and it pisses you off.

VOULEZ-VOUS ✮ - Nothing is as it seems (feat. Pietro Maximoff)