#random prompt drabble

[scealaiscoite]

.☽༊˚ a hundred assorted prompts

¹⁾ raspberry lip gloss

²⁾ pajama bottoms

³⁾ a silver lighter

⁴⁾ fresh honey

⁵⁾ flushed cheeks

⁶⁾ a fogged-up mirror

⁷⁾ the imprint of a belt buckle on skin

⁸⁾ helium balloons

⁹⁾ a broken cocktail glass

¹⁰⁾ old playing cards

¹¹⁾ chipped green nail polish

¹²⁾ a brown leather wallet

¹³⁾ bullet holes in a wooden wall

¹⁴⁾ seashells lined up along the curve of a spine

¹⁵⁾ beaded curtains

¹⁶⁾ pomegranate seeds

¹⁷⁾ a carabiner heavy with keys

¹⁸⁾ fresh-cut orchids in a pottery vase

¹⁹⁾ vending machine cigarettes

²⁰⁾ an out of date map

²¹⁾ a creaky wooden gate

²²⁾ a minifridge stocked with budweiser and paracetamol

²³⁾ snapdragons growing between pavement slabs

²⁴⁾ smudged yellow eyeshadow

²⁵⁾ slept-in braids

²⁶⁾ library books that’ll never be returned

²⁷⁾ a pink-tiled shower

²⁸⁾ a honeybee on a linen shirtsleeve

²⁹⁾ burnt popcorn

³⁰⁾ watching an eclipse from bed

³¹⁾ a black lace bralette

³²⁾ a tattered patchwork quilt

³³⁾ blue raspberry bubblegum

³⁴⁾ a rusted fishing rod and a dried-up lake

³⁶⁾ the taste of whiskey on someone else’s lips

³⁷⁾ rose-scented candles burned down to the wick

³⁸⁾ crescent-shaped coffee stains on a wooden tabletop 

³⁹⁾ odd socks 

⁴⁰⁾ a loose thread on a jumper sleeve

⁴¹⁾ warm sheets on cold skin

⁴²⁾ amber-tinged perfume

⁴³⁾ gold jewelry 

⁴⁴⁾  a calloused palm against a soft cheek 

⁴⁵⁾ a busted headlight

⁴⁶⁾ sunrise from a jail cell

⁴⁷⁾ hand tattoos that weave around fingers

⁴⁸⁾ coconut shampoo

⁴⁹⁾ a doorbell sounding in the middle of the night

⁵⁰⁾ ladybugs crawling across a headstone

⁵¹⁾ grass stains on blue jeans

⁵²⁾ a loaded saddlebag

⁵³⁾ a dusty wine cellar

⁵⁴⁾ a bikini top draped over a bedpost

⁵⁵⁾ snow in july

⁵⁶⁾ dirt-red mountaintops

⁵⁷⁾ goosebumps in a heatwave

⁵⁸⁾ an empty dinnertable

⁵⁹⁾ a fresh manicure and bruised knuckles

⁶⁰⁾ zombie movies

⁶¹⁾ bitten lips

⁶²⁾ dark eyes full of tears

⁶³⁾ a soft cast in summertime

⁶⁴⁾ stale coffee in paper cups

⁶⁵⁾ frozen peaches on a black eye

⁶⁶⁾ acrid smoke

⁶⁷⁾ bound hands

⁶⁸⁾ animal tracks

⁶⁹⁾ unwound vhs tapes

⁷⁰⁾ cartoon plasters

⁷¹⁾ lipstick marks on shirt collars

⁷²⁾ silver bangles

⁷³⁾ sharing a coat in a downpour

⁷⁴⁾ fields with grass at waist-height

⁷⁵⁾ daisy chains up to your forearm

⁷⁶⁾ rolled-up shirtsleeves

⁷⁷⁾ the smell of bleach in a dark room

⁷⁸⁾ a shared sleeping bag

⁷⁹⁾ a new haircut

⁸⁰⁾ swimsuit tanlines

⁸¹⁾ perfume clinging to a pillow

⁸²⁾ lollipops dangling between lips

⁸³⁾ a badly-timed grin

⁸⁴⁾ old books

⁸⁵⁾ tongues stained from slushies

⁸⁶⁾ waking up in a hailstorm

⁸⁷⁾ dying sunflowers

⁸⁸⁾ colourful sunglasses

⁸⁹⁾ the last pew

⁹⁰⁾ tall, rattling windows in a storm

⁹¹⁾ six missed calls

⁹²⁾ sticks of incense burned down to the last

⁹³⁾ bunk beds

⁹⁴⁾ matching sets

⁹⁵⁾ ruined mascara

⁹⁶⁾ a boxing ring

⁹⁷⁾ stained glass windows

⁹⁸⁾ fairy forts

⁹⁹⁾ a cluttered bedside table

¹⁰⁰⁾ a hangover in the evening

[the-likeable-wizard-mack]

What if werewolves sounded like huskies arguing in their transformed form?

Werewolf: *UNGODLY WAILING*

Roommate: “NO. YOU ALREADY ATE YOUR SNACKS. YOU ARE NOT EATING A WHOLE BLOCK OF CHEESE!!”

Werewolf: *MORE UNGODLY WAILING AND HOWLING*

Roommate: “YOU’RE LACTOSE INTOLERANT JERRY!”

[hxnbi]

No type of character gives me more yandere vibes than the ones who believe that they have nothing to lose.

Allow me to explain.

To put it simply, they will quite literally worship the ground you walk on. It doesn’t matter what happens to them, as long as they know that you are safe. It never did matter, because they had already lost everything. They had very little to begin with, but at the very least, they wanted you.

There's a certain heightened sense of devotion when they are well aware of what they are and perceive themselves as being all but completely obsessed and infatuated with someone who they believe belongs to them. And they weren’t going to let this slip by them. Not like this. They would give up the world if that meant keeping you by their side forever.

They are desperate. They are completely and utterly in love with you. They are crazy for you. They are down-bad, head over heels for you. They will do anything for you, and that means anything. You are all that they need and all that they could ever want, so why would they ask for anything else?

To be able to know that you’re safe, they would go to any lengths. But over time, the more you give them, the more they realize that won’t be enough. It will never be enough. And they have nothing worth losing to get what they want. More. That smile you gift them. How else could that mean other than you also being in love with them? It’s fate! 

Nothing can go wrong for them, for as long as they know your safety is assured. That kind of senseless and blind conviction, born from a sense of reckless abandon, is something that is both terrifying and captivating. And they all but accepted this fact. 

Nothing can stop them from being with you. You're their angel, their guiding light. You're their everything. They want to be with you for the rest of their life, and they hope, or rather, delusionally believe you will want the same. They would kill you and then themselves so no one could have you.

Now, the choice remains. Do you stay with them or not? The answer is not that hard. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, as they’ve already made that decision for you.

[eleanore-delphinium]

The Voices: Bullies

@jiafei-my-beloved & @djbunnie gave me the bullying idea. Thanks btw!

Then I just borrowed existing kids that are plaguing me. You might see this AU, been working on it for a while.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Damian frowned as he stared at his two young children. His daughter had messy hair and his son had scratches. Both their uniforms were disheveled. 

“What happened?” He asked with arms crossed.

The sun had already set and so they stood in a dark hall in their big cold mansion. The children had even come home later than they should have. Which made his wife anxious.

“They called mother crazy.” His daughter carefully confessed.

Damian’s hand flinched and he pressed his lips.

“They pushed her, so I fought back.” His son added.

Damian inhaled sharply, “I will deal with this.”

He studied his six-year-old twins. They were rather mature for their ages, a result of the circumstance of their environment. 

“Your mother–”

“Damian?” Raven’s voice cut him off from finishing his sentence. 

He turned to look at his wife who wore a white long sleeved, floor length silk nightgown. The neckline was low but it was quite conservative. A clothing choice she wore in consideration of their children.

Her eyes flickered at the sight of her young children. 

She was shaking, “What happened?” 

Damian’s lips parted but his daughter cut him off, “We were having too much fun, mother.”

“I tripped.” The son added.

Damian looked at his children, his pensive expression hidden from his wife.

He sighed, “Why don’t you let your mother put some ointment on those wounds son?” He gently urged.

The son nodded and walked to his mother, reaching for her hand. 

Raven quietly accepted his hand and his excuse.

“Why don’t you two sleep with us tonight?” Damian smiled warmly.

Raven looked delighted with the suggestion. Her and her children nodded with smiles on their faces.

Damian approached his wife and cupped her face, “Why don’t you all settle down first while I make a call to their school?”

He patted his children’s head. 

“I will deal with this. You don’t have to worry about anything, beloved.” He kissed her temple. 

She pressed her lips and replied “Alright.”

~.~.~.~.~.~

Raven settled the kids on the bed. She patted her son’s hair while his sister slept on his other side, eyes closed but facing Raven.

She watched them sleep peacefully.

“What really happened?” Her son stirred awake after hearing his mother whisper softly. 

He heard the inaudible whispers that came after, making him open his eyes.

A red figure with white hair almost pressed his lips against his mother’s ear as he told her something he couldn’t make out.

He felt his twin sister’s hand squeeze his hand that she was already holding. He knew his sister was awake and could hear them too. But she kept up with the appearance of being asleep.

They both knew their mother was not crazy. After all, they see them too.

Raven’s son pressed his lips, behind the red figure was another one by the wall, looking at him with a smile and an index finger pressed on it’s lips. 

They all look the same. But they knew there were a lot of them. And one of them was bigger than the rest. 

Their mother called him Trigon.

And he was the one by the wall.

He squeezed his sister’s hand back.  FIN.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

promptfill for @clearlyclairesblog!

P.s. I don’t know if this is the direction you wanted, but here is what I ran with…

++

Mercado lestappen Rated G for general audience vibes (and a bit of angst) Minor mentions of drinking 1.2k words (Also readable on ao3)

The supermarket is playing a mariachi cover of a radio song that Charles doesn’t know the name of, nor does he particularly care to. In the last year since he’s been to Central America he’s been racing in what the newspapers would call “beautifully”, “at a level that hasn’t been seen in over seven years” — and if the Twittersphere is also to be believed, “b for big slay”. But apparently it still, still! isn’t enough to beat the number one two nights ago at the Autódromo.

Charles swats away the thoughts. This is not time to dwell on the bad race. He is here to try and forget the bad race. He rubs his eyes and holds a bottle of what he thinks is tequila, the words abstract on the amber bottle. The lights are too bright in here, and the aisles too colourful. Driving on the track suits Charles because he can expend his energy hyper focused on what he needs to do, where he needs to go. It gives his anxiety a channel of relief, where high octane and being rabbit-quick serves a glorious purpose.

Here, in the real world, sometimes he is not so sure.

There are too many soda options that could go with the bottle that he's holding. (It behooves him, a son of Monaco, to at least have some kind of chaser. To keep this nominally classy, to make this self-pity show not entirely pathetic. Even Charles when sad has standards. Maybe grapefruit jarritos would make a good accompaniment for tequila and depression?)

Andrea would probably kill him, but whatever. There’s a reason Charles left the whole team at the hotel, wandered off with a cap and big hoodie in search of quiet time. Besides, abstinence from indulgence, in all its forms still hasn’t gotten Charles any further in the standings compared to last year. So he deserves a little boozy soda, non?

Of course, to add insult to injury, Max Verstappen’s face stares at him from a can of Red Bull. And of course Charles can’t help but laugh. Of all the endorsements in the world, of all the people to see now, it is the cause of his despair, Satan on hot wheels himself who deigns to make an appearance to haunt him in the Fresko.

That is what breaks him. It starts as a giggle, ends with his face buried in his hands, and Charles wonders what the world would make of him having un petit meltdown in the middle of a suburban supermarket.

“What the hell?”

The voice knocks him right off kilter. He would know that voice anywhere. No, it could not be.

But when Charles looks up, there he is. His rival, in the flesh. Equally in a cap and dark hoodie, holding a loaf of bread and a six-pack of Corona under one arm.

“Is that bread?” Charles says. He doesn’t know what to say, really. They do not share much off the track, him and Max. They live in the same city, but don’t cross paths. They are born sixteen days apart, but besides racing have almost nothing in common. They carted together for over a decade, fought in F1 together for almost another more and somehow Max has over quadruple the WCs and Charles has nothing to show for it except a couple of podiums, and maybe a lot of shame. (He tries not to think too much about the shame.)

Max, to his credit, doesn’t seem particularly ruffled about any of this. These days, Max has mellowed out, grown from defensive boy to assertive man, relaxed in his shoulders, laughs a little more easily. In contrast Charles finds himself trying not to sink into his car, to tell himself to smile more genuinely for the cameras that are now starting to feel more and more like a burden rather than anything fun, because years of expectation and being told you’re a winner, and for it to never be true, can gnaw at your self-esteem like that.

Slightly further down the aisle from him, Max tilts his head. “I was hungry.”

“That’s fair.”

“And thirsty.”

“Me too.”

Charles doesn’t miss the way Max’s eyes flick down to the shopping basket and back up.

“That bad, huh?”

That bad? Charles fumes to himself. Max doesn’t know what it’s like, he couldn’t possibly imagine what it’s like, to always be second, to aim for something and fight for it so hard, only for it to still fall out of reach—

“You raced really well.” Max says, factually. As if the sky were blue, as if the supermarket did not at all intellectually or spiritually affect his cognitive functions like it already has thrown Charles for a loop. Max pronounces his assessment as if it were an absolute, which is Max’s power, you see. To take destiny by it’s teeth and force it to heel.

“Evidently, what I did was not enough.” Charles says.

“You took every line that was needed.”

“I did.”

“Your tyre management has been the best I’ve ever seen it.”

“Thanks. But you were better.”

“Yes. I’m not going to apologise for that. You know well, how it is.”

Charles laughs, low, a little bitter. Yes, he does know well, how it is. “The rest of us are mice. Scrambling around the ankles of an elephant.”

Max, for his part, seems to chew on this. Shifting the bread a little higher in the crook of his elbow, eyes glancing but not really looking at the cans in the aisle. The music plays on for a few moments in the background, a cheery tune with lots of fast strumming. It’s a minor miracle that they’ve not been spotted, but this late at night, it seems the only person around is the disinterested cashier who is filing her nails at the checkout.

Somewhere in the distance the cashier coughs. Max taps the side of his thigh with his index finger, once, twice. Neither of them seems to know what to say.

Finally, Max yanks a Red Bull can off the shelf, closes the distance, and drops it right into Charles’s basket. This close, Charles can see the proud tilt of Max’s chin, the brown flecks in the other man’s eyes.

“A chaser.” Max says. Both of them aware of the double meaning. The drinks, their history.

Charles swallows. So fine, maybe it because it’s 2am, or maybe it’s the desperation. Here, face to face with Max, away from the cameras and the rest of the world, they can slow their strange dance, and Charles is able to say what he has really wanted to say. He wills it into his mind with more iron and fury than he truly feels.

“I will beat you one day, you know.”

His blood swims with it. He wills it to settle, to become familiar with the feeling, asserting himself in this way, speaking what he really means.

In turn, Max smiles. Genuine, this time, crinkling to the corner of his eyes. The rare ones he grants to the rest of the competitors on the couch after a good race, when he’s come off the track with fantastic pace. The one he has when he waves to his nephews.

Max doesn’t back off at all. He leans even closer. (Charles could count every lash. Tucks it away somewhere secret, somewhere with sharp edges that he can’t look too closely at, yet.)

“Absolutely, Charles.” Max says, all conspiratorial. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

[writemeagoodprompt]

"I loved you!"

"You didn't love me enough."

[hisuian-history-makers]

Infi-Map to Anywhere, Anywhen, and... Anywho?

—For the record, Danny and Sam wanted to say this was all Tucker’s fault. He just had to make a joke about them facing Phantoms of the Past.

While handing the Infi-Map back to Frostbite.

———————————————————————

They didn't expect it to react to a joke.

Once Mayor Fruit-Loop was iced, Tucker said something offhand about them being fully-fledged time travelers. The three had gone to a really dark future and now the distant past.

(Jazz kept saying he deflected by making jokes about what he went through.)

Phantoms of the Past. He couldn’t have said ghosts noooooo—it had to be the hero name.

Now they were in a castle that resembled Pariah’s Keep albeit wintery, with a Dan-looking Danny who had the Crown of Fire on his head.

Several Dannys, Sams, and Tuckers joined them on the castle grounds. There were a few other people that got dragged along but Danny was trying not to hyperventilate into fainting. A handful of his alternates(?) chatted with Dans.

Two versions didn’t even seem to be human! It hurt his brain looking at them. Alarmingly, a majority of the Dannys had the Crown of Fire and Ring of Rage. The kingly outfits kinda hinted at why they even had those artifacts.

He swore he saw DC comic book characters alongside several alternates. Danny had trouble keeping track with so many people here.

—

Sam and Tucker weren’t doing much better.

Several versions appeared more ghostly than normal. They explained what being Liminal and having ecto-contamination meant. Like being a quarter ghost rather than the half Danny was.

Various Sams were part plant. The Tuckers had kept the odd past life abilities although their strength in them varied between timelines.

Danis, a majority who went by Ellie/Elle, made references to them being in a relationship with each other! Not just Sam dating Danny, Tucker dating Danny, them dating each other, but the three dating altogether! Each corresponding Jazzes tried to explain how preferences were pretty fluid amongst different timelines. So they shouldn’t think about it too hard.

To make matters more heartbreaking. The Dan-looking Danny who ruled as a King seemed pretty overjoyed despite the chaos. As it turned out—for him, the Zones natural portals shut off so it could focus on healing. Leaving him forced to be alone without his family indefinitely.

He had tried to leave. To open new portals.

(It never worked... His throne was hollow.)

This left Danny feeling unnerved because the possibility of being crowned Ghost King was pretty strong. That or being caught by the GIW and experimented on. His future sucked...

------------------------------------------------------

[Otherwise Canon! Danny, Sam, and Tucker meet some of the AU versions. Takes place in “Infinite Realms.” Infi-Map might be able to take them to someone specific. Anywhere, anywhen, anywho. Just say the name.]

Edit: Why is this my most popular post so far?

Edit 2: Seriously, why did this become my most popular post? In just a single freaking week! I posted this as a joke! A well thought out joke but a joke nonetheless.

Edit 3: It went past two hundred notes!

[janeykath318]

Bucky x Reader Royalty AU +soulmates

“I have found the man, your highness,” proclaimed the captain of the guard. “He has an incredible knack for hiding.”

You gave a pained smile. The stunningly handsome, but glowering man standing before you dressed in all black over chain mail certainly looked like like he could disappear if he wished. It was a little demoralizing that he’d chosen to disappear almost immediately after the moment of recognition of your shared soulmarks.

“Thank you, Steven,” you told him gratefully. “Will you give us a moment alone, please?”

“Of course, your highness,” Steven bowed, and having giving the man a warning glance, marched out of the room, with your other attendants following. You were alone with your soulmate.

You sat and looked at him unspeaking for a moment. He didn’t move a muscle, and returned your gaze steadily. The man had nerve, you admitted to yourself. Rising from your throne, you approached him and got right in his face. Up close, he was even more attractive and you noticed the blue of his eyes and the dimple in his grouchy chin in full detail.

“Why does such an exemplary knight turn tail at meeting his soulmate?” You queried, circling him slowly. “Surely I am not so terribly objectionable, am I?”

The way his eyes followed you as you suggested the complete opposite, which you took as a hopeful sign.

“In no way, your highness,” he finally spoke. His voice was deep and as majestic as the rest of him. “It is simply because I do not feel my soul is worthy to matched with yours. If you knew me, you would be disgusted at how black it is.”

“Sir James,” you sighed sadly. “I know. I also know what you suffered and sacrificed for our country. Life has not been kind to you, but you DO deserve to find happiness, and I deserve to have a choice in the matter, do I not?”

“Of course you do,” Sir James sighed after a moment. “But it could stir up trouble for you.”

“I can deal with that,” you told him. “Just trust the universe knew what it was doing when it matched us. I’ll never forget that look we shared that day. I felt something. Did not you as well?”

James’s eyes softened as you drew closer again.

“I did,” he admitted. “Very strongly.”

You took his marked right hand in your own so that the two soulmarks touched.

“In that case, Sir James, I am making the choice to try to win your heart. Despite what you think, it IS a good one.”

James stared at the joined hands then back at you.

“Who am I to turn down the queen?” he said finally, relaxing from his stiff posture.

“That’s better,” you encouraged. “Shall we adjourn to a more comfortable area for conversing? I wish to learn more about you.”

“Lead on, my queen.”

[voctorianwriting]

〃And we sat there,

me, leaning forward from the bench behind and, you, turning yourself ever so slightly, just so our eyes would meet as we talked, engrossed in each other's words, until the professor called out "Eyes on the board lovebirds!"

When both our heads whipped around, until our eyes met again, as the symphony of our giggles was lost in the cacophony of the whistles and laughter from our classmates, when we realized,

it wasn't us who the teacher was talking to, for when we're together, we're truly in our own little world,

subtle enough for only the other to notice... 〃

♡

[candiiicanes]

“You did this.” She said soullessly, laying in her own pool of blood. Her eyes terrifyingly black, face bruised. “You ruined my life.” Her voice got shaky all of the sudden, as if she was going to cry. “It’s your fault. I’m not here anymore, because of you—” My eyes snap open as I jolt up, covered in sweat. My hands were shaking, I felt my heart was beating so loud I wondered if it was in my hands instead. Shit, it happened again? I look around my room, attempting to steady my breathing, still trying to convince myself that it was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real right? No- no, I'm home….it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real this time. I look at my alarm clock, wondering what time it was. 6:16. I sighed as I rubbed my eyes, I was supposed to wake up soon anyway. 

©candiiicanes

[astrodances]

Olympics prompt

So I may end up regretting this, taking a long time, or maybe not even following through (fair warning XD), but I like learning about different Olympic sports, so, in an effort to do so, I thought of a prompt idea:

give me a character (or two) [for a fandom I know] + an Olympic sport, and I'll try to draw or write something for it! 😄⚽️🏊🏃🥇

[storms-corner]

001. the seaside, as the sun is setting

-

Water laps at their bare feet, toes buried in the wet sand. Seagulls make noise, soaring in circles overhead, large and annoying and look, birds! Oksana’s voice is bright and full of wonder, because as a child she never saw the sea. Sand sticks to her legs all the way to her knees and there are tiny fragments of seashells stuck to her damp skin, too. Her pockets are full of shells and sea glass.

The sun sinks lower and lower, turning the sky into blooming waves of pink and red and orange. Everyone else had gone home. It was just the two of them left.

“Come on,” said Eve, hand in hand with Oksana. “Before it gets too dark, baby.”

They walk back to their spot. With no one around, Eve simply helps Oksana out of her bathing suit. Oksana enjoys the feeling of the breeze on her body for a moment before Eve tugs her long sundress over her head. When Oksana’s head pops back out, she giggles and Eve kisses her freckles.

“Mommy,” Oksana coos. She taps her forehead. “Kiss.”

Eve tenderly kisses the girl’s forehead. She wrings the water out of Oksana’s bathing suit the best she can and stuffs it in their bag. Oksana lays down, head on her pink duffel bag, and looks up at Eve. The older woman is blurred by the glare of the setting sun. The waves make a loud, repetitive noise. If Oksana were to close her eyes, she thinks it would sound just like mommy’s hand when it brushes through her hair. She rubs at her tired eyes and watches sleepily as Eve steps out of her bikini and tucks her wrap dress around her body.

“Let’s go home, sweetheart,” Eve helps Oksana up on her feet and the little girl clings to her side. “We’ll be back tomorrow.”

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

To cope with my writer’s block, I've decided that I want to do some drabbles!

To make this fun for me, I decided to do 'playlist prompt' drabbles. So, if you'd like, please send me a lovesquare pairing and a number between 1 and 144 and hopefully I'll write a drabble based on the corresponding song in my playlist to that number

My inbox is open, so please feel free to send requests!

[missmouse43]

Jiara Ficlet #1

Word prompt: Obedient (Read on AO3)

Thank you random word prompt generator. You’re allowing me to do the Lord’s work 🙏

Dom/sub dynamics, Pushing that top!kie agenda

333 Words

❗️Smut ahead❗️

–

“Ah, ah, ah. No touching.”

The scolding comes with an impish grin and a light swat at the hand JJ had instinctively reached out to tangle into a mass of dark curls. Not to pull, never to force, but to hold back out of consideration—wayward strands getting in the way tucked affectionately behind an ear.

JJ’s hand flexes, checking himself, then curls into a tight fist and joins the other pressed firmly against the outer part of his thigh. A low whine vibrates from his throat, involuntary and strained. Not a protest, no. He accepted the terms of their agreement, thrilled by the shift in dynamics.

He was disciplined. Obedient. Just the way Kiara liked him.

Kneeling between his legs on the hardwood floor, the girl nods approvingly, honey-streaked mane falling loose over her shoulders as she descends on him again. Soft pink lips, plush and spit-slick vacuum sealed around his cock. Seductive mocha eyes holding his gaze steadfast and hungry, commanding his full attention.

Up, down, up, down, up, down.

JJ couldn’t look away.

She pulls off of him once again with a slow, indulgent drag, her tongue flat and wide against the popped vein throbbing on the underside, taking her time to tease the slit with several kitten licks just to watch her boyfriend’s eyelids flutter and his head tip back into the cushions. A strangled groan of satisfaction pulled from parted lips.

She wraps her hand around him as she speaks, long, delicate fingers pumping silky skin, just as capable as curling into a fist to throw a pretty decent right hook as they were at turning JJ into a bumbling pile of mush right there on the old pull-out couch.

“Are you going to keep being a good boy for me?”

“Jesus, Kie. You’re driving me crazy.”

“Good,” Kiara giggled, pearly white teeth flashing up at him in amusement. Her smile dazzling, dizzying. And then she’s swallowing him whole and JJ’s seeing stars for an entirely different reason.

[asriel20asi]

The aroma and flavor of your favorite Turtles

Enjoy~♡

Raphael Hamato

Smells of a combination of salt and metal after a day of training but when he's around y/n, a strong smell of cedar wood envelopes around the two.

A strong tone of Cinnamon lingers after kissing this big loveable guy.

Leonardo Hamato

A deep earthy tone surrounds this free spirited turtle, a hint of the ocean seems to linger whenever he hugs y/n close.

An alluring flavor of mint and citrus is left upon the lips after a kiss.

Donatello Hamato

The aroma of fresh fabric and lavender hang heavy around the soft shelled genius.

The strong flavor of coffee is always upon the lips of this night owl, but sometimes you taste a hint of vanilla.

Michaelangelo Hamato

A strong tone of maple syrup and chocolate hangs around this sweet guy, y/n loves to nuzzle their face against his neck and breathe in that comforting scent.

A tangy sweet flavor of Oranges and Bubblegum hang upon the lips of this artistic sweetheart.

[random-writing-thoughts]

Can't stop thinking about this. 😄😄 So here is this story two days in a row haha

Thought #206.3

Taglist: @pickleking8, @voodoomorph, @thegosty

If you want to be added let me know!!

Previous

Warnings: physical abuse, swearing

Ex had been asking her again and again who that man had been in the museum.

She had told him again and again that she didn't know his name.

He didn't like that answer.

So he hit her.

Tore things off her wall and threw them at her.

Screamed in her face and pulled dishes from her cupboard smashing them at her feet.

She had a black eye and bruises on her arms, legs, chest and neck. Cuts from the dishes and tears streaming down her face.

She scurried away from him, cutting her feet on the glass.

Ex walked slowly over to her cowering in the corner.

"I will ask you one more time." He grabbed her by her shirt and pulled her towards him until she was inches from his face.

"What was the name of that fucking man you were walking around the museum with?" He screamed.

She flinched. "I keep telling you I don't know his name." She said softly.

The front door slammed shut causing Best Friend to sit up fast on the couch.

"Who the hell are..."

"My name is Villain and I would appreciate it if you put my friend down " A deep voice from their right said.

Villain had walked into the apartment with a big bag of groceries.

Civilian looked over at him.

Villain met her eyes and gave her a reassuring smile.

Ex dropped Civilian and stood turning towards Villain.

Civilian collapsed to the ground and scurried to the corner.

"So you're the one my girlfriend has been hanging out with."

Villain walked towards the fridge.

"Your girlfriend?" He looked at Best Friend lounging on the couch. "Last time I checked, when you get engaged to another person all of your other relationships are done." He opened the freezer and put the ice cream away.

"That's not how it works with me." He smiled as he jumped at Civilian and pulled her to her feet. "She agreed to be mine until I broke up with her. Even signed a contract."

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, tightly squeezing her waist. She whimpered and looked at Villain.

Ex tapped her nose. "That's what you agreed to. Right babe?"

She just stared back at Villain with pleading eyes.

Ex scowled. He roughly grabbed her jaw with his other hand. Squeezing hard. "Isn't that right Civilian?"

She whimpered as new tears streamed down her face.

Villain slammed the freezer door closed. "Let go of her."

Ex raised his hands sarcastically pushing Civilian to the floor.

"I'm so scared." He said in a monotone voice lowering his hands. "Why do you care? How long have you even known her?"

Villain glared at Ex.

"Since the museum?" Ex laughed. "Well let me tell you that you know nothing about her. She may come off as cute and innocent, but she isn't. She will stab you in the back the second she can. Is that someone you really want to protect?" He dramatically put his hand on his chest. "I'm doing everyone a favor. I'm keeping her under control so that she can't ruin anyone else's life."

Villain growled. "Fuck you. I think the one who didn't actually get to know her was you. Do you even know her favorite color?"

"It's pink obviously." Best Friend said from the couch motioning to the walls.

Ex pointed to Best Friend. "We do know her."

Villain scoffed. "No you don't. That's not her favorite color."

Ex glared at him. "And you know her favorite color?"

Civilian pushed herself to a sitting position and leaned against the wall. She winced and grabbed at her side. "He does." She said softly.

Ex turned towards her fast. She squeaked and pulled her knees towards herself. Making her small frame even smaller.

"How does he know?" Ex said through gritted teeth.

"I told him and he listened." She whispered.

Ex raised his fist. Ready to strike.

Villain stepped forward and grabbed Ex's fist.

"Don't." He pulled Ex to his feet. "Believe it or not I have fought low life's before. But they are all still better people then you are."

Ex turned and swung at Villain. Villain blocked it and pushed Ex into the table.

He watched Ex hit the table hard and tumble to the floor.

He walked over to Civilian and bent down in front of her. "Hey." He said softly.

She peaked over her knees at him. Her eyes widened as something hit his back. He fell towards her but luckily caught himself on the wall.

He pushed back and stood turning to face Ex.

Ex scowled at Villain and raised his fists.

Civilian touched Villain's leg. "He's going to hurt you. Don't get hurt because of me. I'm not worth it."

Villain smiled. "Remeber you can't say things like that about yourself."

He jumped forward tackling Ex to the ground.

Best Friend jumped to her feet and screamed.

Villain punched Ex in the face and glared at him. "You don't even deserve to be beaten up. You deserve worse, but I'm not going to do that. I'm instead going to make you break up with Civilian."

Ex spit at Villain. "Why the fuck would I do that?"

Villain wiped the spit from his face. "Because if you don't I will find you and I will beat you to a pulp. Civilian doesn't deserve to be treated like an object to be won or possessed. Especially by a fucking narcissist like you. She deserves better."

"What like you?" Ex scoffed.

Villain shrugged and knelt on Ex's arm. "If that's what she wants. Break up with her."

Ex winced. "Fine. Fine. Civilian I'm breaking up with you."

"Thank you." Civilian said softly.

Villain stood and turned towards Civilian. He knelt down and tapped Civilian's arms softly.

Civilian pulled her knees from her chest and looked up at Villain.

Ex and Best Friend made their way to the door.

"You made a fucking mistake Villain." Ex said cradling his arm as they left.

Villain rolled his eyes as he softly traced the black eye and bruises forming on Civilian's neck. He smiled and looked at her tear stained eyes.

"Come here." He held out his arms and she jumped into them.

He stood and she held tightly to his neck. He wrapped his arms around her as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

She sobbed into his shoulder. "You don't have to stay. I can do..."

"I'm going to stay." He said softly.

He carried her to the bathroom. He set her down on the toilet lid and pulled away from her.

"We still have wine and ice cream we need to eat." He looked at her and smiled. "And I want to spend time with you."

She grabbed her hair and shook her head with her eyes closed. "No you don't. No you don't. No one wants to spend time with me. I'm too destructive. I'm too needy. I'm too..."

"Open your eyes please." Villain grabbed her face and wiped the tears from her eyes.

She sniffled and opened her eyes.

He looked up and met eyes with her. "You're not." He tapped her forehead. "He's in your head."

"Your ex is an asshole. He made you feel unimportant. Like your interests don't matter. Like you don't matter. That you are destructive."

He grabbed a washcloth from the counter and got it wet. He started dabbing the cuts on her arms.

"In reality you are one of the nicest people I've ever met. You see the good in everything and everyone. You love art with such a passion that so few have. You like the color blue for such a specific reason and that is beautiful."

He pulled open a drawer and found some gauze and athletic tape. He set it on her cuts and wrapped it with the tape.

He moved on to her other arm. "How long were you with him?"

He set gauze down on her arm and wrapped it with the tape.

She took a deep breath. "I signed the contract five years ago. He was nice and we had dated for two years before, so I didn't think it would be that big a deal if I signed it."

She sighed. "I was wrong. He changed the second I signed it. Became the guy you saw tonight. I went from being his girlfriend to his possession. Overnight."

Villain dabbed at another cut. "Did you try to leave?"

"Only once. At the beginning. He didn't like it, and I never tried it again." She looked at him. "Now that you know that why would you want to spend time with me? Someone so broken. Someone who can't even leave an abusive boyfriend."

"That doesn't matter to me. You are more than that. I want to spend time with you because you are wonderful. I listed all of your wonderful traits that make you an amazing person. That's what made me fall in love with you."

Civilian froze.

Villain looked up at her and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She grabbed his hand and closed her eyes shaking her head.

"You... no... you're lying." She stood pushing Villain back.

She ran both her hands through her hair. He stood and stepped towards her.

She held out her hands stepping back. "You're lying. You're a liar. No one falls in love that fast." She turned and walked out of the bathroom. "That... that's why you saved me. You just want to use me. Like he did."

She paced around her apartment as Villain stepped out of the bathroom.

"Get me to feel comfortable around you. You don't even know me. We met..." She looked at the clock. "6 hours ago. How can you possibly know that you love me in that short amount of time?"

"Can I please explain? I'm confused too. I don't..."

Civilian met eyes with him. "I need you to leave. I need to think about this."

He nodded and walked towards the door. "Can I at least get your number so you can tell me when you're ready?"

Civilian nodded and grabbed her phone from the floor. She unlocked it and gave it to him. He put his number in and handed it back.

"Don't text me until you're ready." He smiled. "I'm here for you."

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