#rejuvenation mirror

[lilmissjbstyle]

Seattle 3/4 Bath Bathroom Bathroom: Small transitional 3/4-tile bathroom idea with white walls and a pedestal sink made of subway tiles, ceramic, and black flooring.

[spacecampband]

Transitional Bathroom - 3/4 Bath Bathroom: Small transitional 3/4-size ceramic tile bathroom idea with a black floor and white ceramic tile walls.

[doctorbrown]

DOCTOBER '23 ⸺ 「 20 / 31 * REAR-VIEW MIRROR 」

June 12, 2025

23:11

❝Are you sure you can't spend the night, kids?❞ Marty asks as Ellie breaks the long hug with her father. ❝We've got the spare rooms and it'd mean a lot to your mother and I.❞

❝I'm sorry, Dad,❞ Ellie starts, and to her credit, she does look genuinely upset. ❝But Dan and I are travelling in the morning since this is my last open vacation for a while and—❞

❝And I've got to be in by five,❞ Emmett says, ❝to make sure these bojos don't screw something up. We open Saturday.❞

Marty sighs and moves to give his son a hug, patting him twice on the back. ❝I know, I know. You're adults now with your own lives. I just miss you.❞

Ellie pouts. ❝It's not like you never see us, Dad. You can call on the vidphone anytime you want.❞

❝No, no, I get it,❞ Marty says, a hint of a smirk ticking up the corner of his lips, ❝it's not cool to be hanging out with your parents anymore.❞ Before either of the kids can protest, Marty laughs. ❝Have a safe trip, Ellie.❞

❝El, Dad, El. Ellie's such a kid name.❞

❝And you're still my kid.❞ She groans dramatically and drops the point there, knowing there's no arguing with her father on this.

❝Break a leg this weekend, Emmett.❞ Marty nods at his son who smiles.

Both kids shuffle towards the door in an awkward line, reaching over each other to grab bags and sweaters. ❝And would you actually use the gift we got you?❞

Marty glances over his shoulder to the small box and envelope on the living room table and puts a hand on his hip.

❝Hey, I'm only fifty-seven! And I still look good for my age.❞ Apart from the soft age lines typical of a man in his late fifties and his greying hair, Marty still manages to carry a youthful energy tempered some by wisdom and experience. ❝I don't need to start thinking about that yet. Ask me again when I'm sixty-five.❞

Ellie makes a disapproving sound as her brother shoves her out the door and as the door slams shut behind them, leaving behind a deafening silence, Marty lets out a breath and shakes his head. He makes his way over to the couch and plops down, reaching for the piece of paper on top of the old-school birthday card.

A voucher for your first rejuvenation.

❝Really, those kids. What, do they think I'm gonna die tomorrow or something?❞

Before he can finish his thought, there's an urgent knock on the door in a sharp staccato rhythm that causes him to purse his lips. That sounds familiar, Marty thinks, but neither of the kids knock like that when they come over.

❝I'm coming!❞ he shouts, dropping the voucher back on the table without a care as to where it lands. He makes it halfway toward the door when the person on the other end knocks again in the same precise rhythm, causing Marty to grumble under his breath.

Whatever he had prepared to say when the door swung open immediately dies in his throat when the perpetrator's identity is revealed. Marty's eyes are blown wide, so much so they're in danger of falling out of his head. His breath catches in his throat and he would swear that, in that moment, he looks more like a fish gasping for air than a person.

❝Doc,❞ he breathes out when he finally remembers how to, and when the rest of his senses return, Marty barrels into his friend, capturing him in a tight hug which, after a second, he returns with the same warm affection Marty has always associated with him.

❝Doc, it's been—❞

Emmett immediately shakes his head, removing a hand from around Marty to hold it up, palm out. Stop. ❝Don't tell me, Marty. I don't know yet and I don't want to know.❞

Marty nods. ❝Right, yeah, future knowledge. But God, Doc, I missed you so much. What are you doing here? Why now? What's going on?❞ Before an endless stream of questions can spill from Marty's mouth, Emmett silences him again.

❝I have the answer to all your questions right here.❞ Emmett lets go to dig through the inner pocket of his overcoat. He produces a small rectangular gift bound in silver paper and hands it over to a very confused looking Marty.

❝Happy birthday, Marty,❞ he says, pushing the gift into his hands. ❝I've kept this secret from you for almost...forty years and now that it's completed, I figured this was as good a time as any to give it to you.❞

❝You came f—all these years into the future just to give me this? What is it?❞

❝I suppose the act of giving wrapped gifts must be obsolete by now if you're asking me what to do with a gift,❞ Emmett says, smirking. Marty gives him a look that very clearly says, you know that's not what I meant, Doc, but flips the gift over in his hands anyway.

Printed in what is unmistakably Emmett's handwriting is 'Do not open until June 12, 2025,' and Marty snorts at the familiar irony of it all.

Questions are clearly written in the lines of Marty's face and before he can even ask them, Emmett says, ❝Forty years is a long time for you to have seen results on this; you may not even remember insisting I do it, but I took your request to heart.❞

Marty's fingers curl around the edges of the gift. ❝Tell me you're at least going to stay for a little while, Doc. Come in, I'll grab Jen a-and—❞

To Marty's dismay, Emmett shakes his head. ❝I'm afraid I can't stay much longer; this was only intended to be a short stop, but I'm so glad to see you, Marty. You look well and I always knew that your future was going to be bright.❞

❝But Doc, there's so much I want to tell you. Jen and I, the kids—❞

❝Yes, I saw young—well, I suppose they're not young anymore; they've grown into fine adults.❞

❝What about Jules and Verne? And Clara? Are you going to see them while you're here?❞

Again, Emmett shakes his head. ❝No, that wouldn't be wise. Besides, I—❞ A high-pitched alarm screeches from Emmett's watch and he jumps, abandoning his train of thought as his eyes widen. ❝Damn! I'm late!❞

Marty blinks. ❝I'm sorry, Marty, I have to get going.❞ Emmett quickly pulls him into a crushing hug and Marty takes a moment to bury his face in his old friend's shoulder while he still can. ❝I think you'll find you have your hands full for a while with your gift. At the risk of repeating my past self, I'll leave you with these parting words: I'm proud of you.❞

Emmett pats his arms once before hurrying off. Marty stands there, dumbstruck, watching as his old friend climbs into a '76 Chevy Aerovette that he knows is the DeLorean in perfect disguise.

He stands there for some time even after the car and Emmett are well out of sight, gone back to whatever point in time he departed from to get here. Marty hugs the gift to his chest and quietly shuts the door, walking in a half-daze to the couch.

The clock reads 00:09 and Marty tears the paper off his gift.

It looks like a journal, but as Marty inspects it closer, he notices that the edges are worn from years of touch, there's a faint coffee stain on one of the corners, and the journal is at least double the size it started, torn apart and re-bound in a way that looks like it's ready to fall apart at any moment.

A piece of paper falls out from behind the cover, landing on Marty's lap.

First, let me tell you in writing, Happy Birthday, Marty. I expect I will have told you in-person as I delivered your gift, but one can never be wished well enough on their birthday.

By the time this gift finds you, I will have passed. If you ask why I chose to wait until this particular date of June 12, 2025 to present it to you, I'm afraid all I can say is that it felt right. As I do not know the precise date of my passing and have no intention of learning this information prematurely, I can only hope that enough time has elapsed where my delivering this to you will not open too fresh a wound.

But that is not the focus of this letter, nor do I intend to make it such.

You have always believed in me, Marty, even when nobody else has, and the enthusiasm with which you begged me to write this could not go ignored. So this is what I have been working on for the last several years with the knowledge that it would one day find its way to you.

You have been the greatest friend I could have asked for, and I hope that you will remember me fondly, even after some of the things you read here. This first-hand account of my life is yours to do with as you please, and I have been as detailed as circumstances will allow me to be. You will find no instructions for how to re-create the time machines within, though I do mention their existence in order to accurately recount our travels together.

I am proud to have called you my friend and just know I have treasured all of our years together.

'Doc' Emmett L. Brown

Marty blinks furiously against the tears welling up in his eyes. ❝God, Doc, you never change... I didn't think you'd actually do it.❞ The book weighs a ton in his hand and makes his chest weigh just as much.

The weight of his best friend's life story...

The journal's spine cracks as he opens it and there, in black ink, is something that threatens more tears.

For Marty, My partner across space-time. For Clara, Jules, and Verne, Who have made me the luckiest man to have ever lived.

He flips to the first page.

Every story follows a pattern. You start at the beginning, proceed through the middle, and then eventually reach the finale, in which everything wraps up, for better or for worse. A life story is no different, though the steps taken to reach said finale vary wildly between each individual.

So, as stories go, it is only fitting this one starts at the beginning.

❝Jen! Jen, you've gotta come down here! I just got a birthday present from the Doc!❞

[mirrorsoftheotherself]

(Hands you a cookie) please tell me more about Miko Yamagishi and Rejuvenator. Thank you.

Miko... Lucia's Mirror...

This will likely be vastly different from how I originally saw her but I wanted to make sure I knew what I was doing after reading up. I think I have a good basis for them! All of this was on the fly because there's like... 60-ish cast members in total for the Mirror AU (including the three protags)... And there's a lot for me to do.

Miko is a first-year at Hanafu Academy when the plot of the story begins. She's very resourceful and knows her way around electronics and programming thanks to her family's encouragement; she's even made herself some custom apps on her cellphone to help with organization and planning on-the-go. She's the type of person who "knows a guy" and is easily able to lead people to where they need to go. It's like she has the map of the whole town memorized down to every street!

At school, she's able to easily name a person related to a club should someone want to look to it, the current student council members, every teacher name and what subject they teach... She's even able to name any available tutors for anyone struggling. People often go to Miko since she's the one person who knows her way around so proficiently. She knows how to connect people with others.

This does come from a sort of desire to be useful, however. She was rather aimless and purposeless at first so, to her, being able to connect others together felt like the right way to go. This, unfortunately, did come with the cost of struggling how to connect with others herself. Not in terms of her own needs, but in terms of actually making friends.

Not only that, it's gotten to the point that, more often then not, people only go to her just for her skills rather than for her as a person. This leads to Miko feeling like being able to build a web of connections was all that she's good for. Useful... But lonely.

Meeting Otoji breaks her out of that cycle of thought. Someone would direct him to her at one point when he needed something but, as soon as his empathy sensed a bit of how she felt, he put that need aside. His interaction with her would be more personal and allow her to find relief in being able to have someone who sees her for herself rather than just an asset. He would also encourage her to reach out to those she has helped in an effort to help her form bonds with some of them.

Miko eventually joins the Trio in the Mirror World at the end of her "social link" and awakens to Rejuvenator; the Mirror of Fuuka Yamagishi. The Persona is of the pure Navigator type with a focus on greater area analysis and out-of-battle support. This is in comparison to Seeker's Navigator abilities which is more aligned to basic area mapping and finds strength in mid-battle support.

Rejuvenator is able to map the area in a greater range compared to Seeker and is able to offer ambush protection. Alongside that, she is able to offer out-of-battle healing and a quick teleport back to the Hub. Those two abilities require a cooldown between each use, however. She also capable of providing background music for the team should they desire it. Compared to Lucia's giant orb providing the medium for Navigation, Rejuvenator provides a holographic interface.

Miko and Rejuvenator get along really well when it comes to Persona-Persona User bonding. Their bond strengthens as Miko's Mirror Link grows and eventually maxes out.

[raijinhasverybigpecs]

divine ruin as a chang'e recommended item..... 😁😁😁😁😁😁

[michelepoehler]

3/4 Bath Bathroom

[divineecelestial]

Pretty Girl [ 2 ] — Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary — Eddie doesn't like when other guys talk about his girl. You think he's stupid because you're not his girl. He proves you wrong.

Word Count — 2.8k

Warnings — Graphic depictions of sexual activity, kinda mean!eddie, enemies to lovers banter, thigh riding, light face slapping, dirty talk

Part One

18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI

The old metal of the trailer creaked as the door slammed closed. With a wavering hand squeezing his blood-stained nostrils, Eddie glanced away from his reflection in his mirror and poked his head from the restroom doorway. His eyebrows furrowed as he recognized the quick and light footsteps approaching him.

He had practically pleaded with Dustin to not make any more phone calls. He was already embarrassed, more exasperated with the number of times he’s had to stuff his nose with clean tissues, and didn’t want to deal with the scolding and teasing from his friends. Thankfully, none of them had arrived, but, of course, you weren’t like any other person he’d ever met and drove over. If things were different and he wasn’t squeezing his nose with blood seeping beneath his fingernails, he would have paid more attention to the fact that you were there for him. But, stupidly of him, he didn’t think about that. “You came?” He asked, his voice nasally as he squeezed his nose firmly.

Your eyebrows furrowed together with obvious confusion as you neared him. “Of course, I came. Dustin said you needed me.” Now, that wasn’t something he could easily disregard. He wasn’t even sure you knew you had said those words, far too concerned with the pile of bloodied tissues in the corner of the room. You came because he needed you. You pushed his hand aside, carefully tilting his head back and he wordlessly complied. “What happened?”

Now, this was where things became awkward. Roughly an hour ago, Eddie saw something he definitely shouldn’t have. From across the hallway, he watched you. This wasn’t anything new, he could watch you for as long as he could if given the chance, but what was new was the guy across from you. He keeps telling himself he isn’t jealous, couldn’t possibly be. The words overspread his thoughts, suffusing every crevice and space of his head as he watched the spectacle. Maybe, just maybe, if he said the words enough, he’ll eventually believe them. He had to. There isn’t any reason for him to be internally seething with jealousy. You weren’t his. But, God, watching you smile like that because of some random guy was more than enough to have him become nauseous. Seriously, he could feel revulsion bubbling within him.

After you dismissed yourself with a small wave and watched with unfamiliar wrath as this prick motioned for his friends to check you out as you walked away and made a bet on who could fuck you first, he came to a final and startling conclusion. You were his. And that ass these dicks were checking out was definitely not theirs, only his. You ascended up the stairwell and he caught the faintest glance of beneath your skirt. Yeah, that ass and you were only his.

He explained some of what happened and he couldn’t restrain the pleased smile as the concerned softness on your expression deteriorated and was replaced with the familiar annoyance. “You can’t fight people just because they were talking to me.” You sneered.

He removed the small tissue from his nose. “Of course, I can,” He said casually, unbothered by the possessiveness he was displaying. Your glare hardened. “I know you’re mad at me, but you look so good right now.” You did. The sheen of your lipgloss was reflecting from his bedroom light and your hair was styled just how he liked it. 

If you were nerved by his words, you didn’t show it. “You could have gotten seriously hurt.” Even though you were pissed with him, nothing new, your honey-laced words rejuvenated him like a gulp of fresh air. Those butterflies fluttered inside him, threatening to tear through his skin and fly amongst your aura. 

He smiled boyishly. “You look really beautiful in this skirt, by the way. It really suits you.”

His bloodstained fingers gingerly plucked at the bottom of your skirt, lifting the fabric teasingly before dropping it. “You are infuriating.” You said through clenched teeth.

“And you are quite possibly the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

There was a flash of something in your gaze and he wouldn’t have even caught the change if he hadn’t been mesmerized by the color of your eyes. You blinked and it was gone. “What the hell were you even thinking?” You didn’t know why you even asked. This moron obviously wasn’t thinking. 

Another lovesick smile. “You’re all I think about.” His finger caressed the skin above your knee. “You care about my well-being, gorgeous?”

You visibly swallowed. “No, not at all.” You said and you weren’t even convinced by the declaration. 

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly unconvinced as well. “Oh, really?” He asked.

You narrowed your eyes. “Yes, really.”

Eddie’s dubious stare remained on you as he thought for a moment. “You might be able to lie to everyone else and have them fooled, but I can always tell and you’re lying right now.”

You crossed your arms across you chest and chuckled humorlessly. “So you think you know everything about me now?” You didn’t know how to feel about being seen so clearly. 

He leaned further back against his bedframe and you despised that he behaved with such a casualness, an obvious nonchalance while you were straining to remain as stoic as you could manage. “No, I do know everything about you and I know deep down you like me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t like anything about you.” You lied straight through your teeth, your glittering eyes glowing with a wave of irate anger reserved solely for him. You knew you were lying because there was a different layer of him you were discovering every day and you hated it. you hated that he wasn’t as terrible as you initially thought he was. 

“Tell me more.” He demanded, slowly looming closer to you.

“I’m not flirting with you,” You clarified, “This isn’t some dirty talk.”

His face was disconcertingly close to you and even though you pretended the close proximity disgusted you, you didn’t move. “You’re right. This is better.” And for a moment, neither of you said something. “I never noticed your eyes were this pretty.” He could see you; the depths of your eyes illuminated beneath the light, each shadow accustomed to the shadows and darkness glistening on display for him. Small wrinkles creased by your eyes as you softly smiled, a tenderness reserved for him at that moment, and damn, he swore his breath was yanked from his lungs at the sight. “Don’t look at me like that.” He suddenly said.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“The way you’re looking at me, it’s turning me on.”

Your expression transformed into disbelief before glancing down at his crotch, merely a few inches away. “Are you seriously hard right now?” 

He grinned shamelessly. “Can you blame me?” He asked brazenly. “Look at you.” Truth be told, if it was regarding you, it didn’t take much at all for him to get hard.

You refrained from expressing how much you like this. “It’s been less than fifteen minutes and you already have a boner. Do I really have that much of an effect on you?”

There wasn’t any hesitation as he answered. “Absolutely.”

You rolled your eyes. “Stop distracting me.” You pushed his head back again, closely examining inside. The bleeding had stopped and there didn’t appear to be any visible fractures. He would be okay with some ice. “So what were they even saying?” You asked, referring to moment that apparently started everything.

Eddie stiffened, hardly noticeable. “Doesn’t matter. I took care of it.”

“If it’s about me, I deserve to know.”

A moment passed and then another, and he didn’t answer. You were going to ask again in a much more demanding and firmer way when he suddenly sighed heavily. “They were making bets on who could fuck you first.” You could the admission burn his tongue like acrid poison.

Your breathing hitched as you processed his admittance. “You were defending me?” You quietly asked. This definitely made things worse for you. The reason he was starting fights, bruising his knuckles with dark redness and scrapes and scratches, was because they were talking about you. Eddie Munson was defending you in his own perverse way.

“Obviously. You’re not up for grabs. You’re mine.” The way he spoke with careless possession shook you to the core. It was as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And you supposed to him, it was.

Your walls were slowly tumbling and crashing down. Fix it, your brain screamed. “I’m not yours.”

He smirked and it was almost devilish. “Not yet.”

“Not ever.” You corrected, choosing to ignore the fire coursing through you.

That insolent smirk never dwindled. “I see you’re still pretending you aren’t madly in love with me.” He said with sweet amusement.

Any and all snarky remarks were stolen from you as his hand gently touched your thigh. So soft. So tender. Fucking fix it, your brain screamed. “I hate you.” Was all you could pathetically manage.

His touch was so simple, feather-light, but it left fire trails on your skin. “If you hated me, you wouldn’t have let me cum for you.”

Another observation you couldn’t find a response for. “A mistake that’s never happening again.”

His hand moved upward, so slow you were restraining yourself from shoving his hand beneath your clothes. “You liked it. I know you did.” He said and you despised knowing this was nothing but the truth. He was confronting you, teasing you because you couldn’t deny it. If you really didn’t like watching him stain his clothes with cum, you wouldn’t have allowed it to happen. You would’ve punched him, reported him, done anything other than spread your legs and tease him. You didn’t like it, you loved it. “I bet you touched yourself when you got home.”

You did. You touched yourself with your fingers until they ached, came with muffled screams as you shoved your face into a pillow until your vibrator’s batteries died, and you even used your showerhead. Hearing him moan and whine like a pathetic boy was fucking filthy and you were soaking through your panties by the time you stepped inside your room.

He took your silence as admission. “Fuck, you really did, didn’t you?” He could feel the warmth radiating from beneath your skirt, teasing his fingertips. If he wasn’t hard enough earlier, he was now. He twitched beneath his jeans. “Sit on my lap.”

Don’t do it. “You’re delusional if you think I’m gonna—”

“Don’t be a fucking brat and sit on my lap.” Your brain was losing and you were thinking with your body—your body that was craving him like he was some addicting drug. Without another word, you slowly crawled to him and plopped down on his clothed thigh like you were always meant to be there. You could feel him throbbing against your clit. He was big and thick. His eyes closed for a second, processing what was happening. This was a slice of heaven served to him on a golden platter. “Get yourself off on my thigh, pretty girl. Make a mess for me.”

And just like that, any delusion you might’ve had that you were capable of turning him down, was flushed down the drain. “What?” You asked breathlessly. In that moment, he could’ve demanded you kiss his sneakers and you would’ve fluttered your eyelashes at him as you did so. 

He gripped your face with a firmness that might’ve made you whimper if you weren’t so shocked. He squeezed your cheeks with one hand, forcing your lips into a teasing pout. “Rub that pretty pussy on my thigh and make yourself cum.” He wasn’t asking. This was a demand he knew you were going to do for him.

You released a wavering breath as you began to move against him and you could hear your arousal clinging against his jeans. This was embarrassing. But not to him. He was probably sick enough to lick your juices from where you’d been rubbing. “Suck on my fingers and keep those pretty eyes open. Look at me, baby.” His fingers that weren’t tainted by his own blood were inside your mouth and you eagerly sucked, licking and kissing them as if they were his leaking cock. Your lips were flushed as you hollowed your cheeks and he watched you drooled on his fingers with heart eyes. “You are fucking beautiful. Let me see those pretty tits.”

There wasn’t any hesitation this time as you lifted your blouse, displaying your breasts and pinching yourself. Another twitch from his cock and he jerked his hips, earning a soft moan from you. “I could cum just by looking at them, pretty girl.”

You removed his fingers from your mouth. “Call me that again,” Your voice was soft, breathless, and laced with a vulnerability he’d never heard from you before. “Please.” Desperate. Needy.

The arrogant smirk on his pink lips was annoying and you wanted to sit on his face so you wouldn’t have to see it. “Aw, you like being called my pretty girl?” There wasn’t any thoughts floating within your mind. All you could think of was the liquid lava moving through your bloodstream as you rubbed your clit against his cock faster. You only nodded. “I thought you hated me? But look at you, drooling for my cock.”

It was pathetic because you were drooling. You were never going to hear the end of this. He slapped your cheek lightly, pleasantly stinging. His touch didn’t hurt, it never did, but it did get a message across. “Let me hear those pathetic sounds. You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let you not make any noise.” He was going to memorize and repeat this moment for every time he spit in his hand and jerked himself off. He needed to hear you. He was losing his composure and there was another slap. “I’ve been wanting this for years so fucking moan and say my name.”

“O-Oh, my fucking God, this feels so fucking good.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, quickening your pace. Your facade of disgust and hatred disappeared. “Fuck yes, Eddie!” His hands gripped your waist, fingers dipping into the skin of your ass, and he pushed you down harder against him. “Just like that. Just like that.”

His warm and erratic breaths brushed against your jaw. The softness of his lips kissing and sucking as he moaned against your skin. “Come on, baby, make me cum. You can do it, just keep rubbing that pussy on me. Give it to me.”

His mouth moved against your breasts, kitten-licking your peaked nipples before sucking. Something inside you snapped and there was nothing but blinding pleasure, strong enough to steal the moans and air from your throat as you chased your pleasure. Your eyes closed before there were smaller and quick slaps against your cheek. “Look at me when you cum.” His calloused hand slowly drifted to your throat, a firm and shaky grip.

His body twitched and squirmed beneath you as he whimpered against your chest, tongue swirling against your nipple and his hand squeezing the other. Your movements slowly came to a stop and he released your breast with a playful pop. 

His fingertips gently caressed the softness of your cheek, lingering a moment longer on each mark coloring her skin. You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth of his hand as you closed your eyes. You listened to the hard and quick patter of her heart, to each slow and deliberate breath of his, and the rustling of the leaves outside. And you swore if you listened closely enough, you would’ve heard the thumping beneath his chest. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else,” He whispered, a thought escaping his quivering mouth before he could even process his own voice. You ruined him, tore out his thumping heart with your manicured nails, and devastated him—a devastation he craved, needed like the blood coursing through his veins. He would’ve bruised his knees worshipping the floor you stepped on. You had undoubtedly ruined him and he couldn’t do anything about it but thank you.

In a daze, you tangled your fingers in his hair and pressed your glossed lips against his. He couldn’t breathe. You were kissing him, drunk from your orgasm, bare skin against his thick cock, and he couldn’t think. He couldn’t move. He didn’t move. He didn’t kiss you back. At the lack of reciprocation, you pulled away.

The softness of your lips lingered on his, a ghostly remnant of a daydream he’s had for as long as he could remember. His eyes slowly fluttered open, shock swirling in the pools of darkness. His breathing hitched as he forced himself to breathe. Slow and steady. But he couldn’t because he swore he could almost still taste you. Outside, inside the community and neighborhoods of Hawkins, no one would’ve guessed Hawkin’s It-Girl kissed him, your sweet perfume entangled with his cheap cologne. That’s something nobody could’ve predicted, including himself. Well, and that you rode him until you made yourself and him cum.

Your hair cascaded across your skin as you tilted your head, trying to decipher the gleam in his eyes. Your lips were flushed as if you’d been gnawing on them, and you almost pouted at what you thought was rejection. Disappointment colored your expression and you scooted away from him, suddenly uncomfortable with the silence of the room. “I’m sorry I kissed you.” You stood from him and straightened your clothes, readjusting them. “Let’s just forget about it.”

And you were out the door before he could explain that he literally couldn’t talk or function because his dream girl made him cum so hard he was seeing stars.

Shit.

Taglist — @eddiesguitarskills @twihard08 @twilight-love-nochu-main @names-were-taken @definitelynotecho @sidthedollface2

[cammys-imagines24]

°•Astarion When You're Injured•°

On the one hand, oh no, his beloved is hurt.

On the other, gods is he turned on.

Now if you were actually at deaths door, that would be different.

Astarion would be a nervous, furious, tear stained wreck. Worrying that he'd lose the single most important thing in his cursed existence.

The one thing that truly matters in his life. You.

But, if you're injured from just the run of the mill scrapes you get yourself into? Well that's fair game for him to be horny as all hell.

The way you wince when you roll up your shirt, a stab wound gouged into your abdomen.

How the blood trickles down to your breeches and stains your flesh, the crimson glinting in the slant of moonlight coming in from your partially open tent...

He'll feel his pants grow tight.

"Darling, I know you're injured and probably aren't in the mood but I must say you look positively scrumptious right now."

Astarion will watch you like a hawk as you stumble about your tent, looking for alcohol, bandages, a needle and thread.

The way you bite your lip to stifle yet another whimper, the sweet scent of your blood in the air. He licks his lips.

Oh, he could just eat you right up.

"Kitten, you've got to stop whimpering and groaning unless you want me to ravage you this instant."

When Astarion sees you go to clean yourself up though, he'll be absolutely affronted.

"Ah, ah. Don't you dare grab that rag, my dear. Have you forgotten about little old me? I could clean the blood off of you far better."

He'll say, sinking down to his knees before you. Have no fear though, the vampire will lick your wound til not a single leaking drop of your blood is left.

"This really gets you going?"

You'll ask, bracing your hands upon his shoulders for balance, your skin tingling from his attentive mouth. He's so skilled that you've nearly forgotten about the pain. Nearly.

"Well, my sweet, I could do without the you getting stabbed part but how can I resist when you're dripping red in front of me? You don't know the effect you have on me."

Astarion won't be selfish enough to ask you to take care of the little, well big, problem in his pants however.

He loves you dearly and he is here to help, in anyway he can.

You are injured and he understands that what you need from him isn't unbridled passion but sincere affection.

He will offer to stitch you up himself, seeing as your wound is in an awkward position and you can't really see it unless you're in front of a mirror.

The pale elf will tell you to lie down while he practically straddles you to get closer to the afflicted area.

Crimson eyes twinkling, fangs pearly and white as he smiles but he'll be gentle.

Threading through your raw skin carefully and giving your thigh a few affirming squeezes with his other hand when you gasp.

"See, pet? Aren't I just the best lover you've ever had? Flesh isn't so different from fabric and my stitches are perfect, wouldn't you say?"

Afterwards he'll wrap your stomach in bandages and get you anything you need.

Medicine to make you feel better and of course, all the recuperation time you need.

So much so that if the others in your camp need you that he will shove them out of your tent and order them to leave you be.

You'll not be leaving your bed for awhile that's for sure. Not while he's here to act as your nurse.

When you ask him to lay in bed with you, Astarion will give you one of his rare, tender smiles. Genuine with no mischief.

The fact that you need him and want him near is still a marvel to him.

It warms his ice cold spawn heart.

Makes him feel things he hasn't felt in 200 years.

"Oh, alright. My body is yours, in more ways than one."

Astarion will joke, flirtatious smirk slotting back into place along his mouth but he'll slip into bed without a fuss.

Your head resting on his chest, him mindful of your wrapped up abdomen.

Once you've had your medicine, rejuvenating sleep will call to you but before that you whisper how much you love him. Your words quiet in the night, against his ruffled shirt.

He'll hear you all the same and it disarms him.

"I love you too, sweetheart. You have to learn to be more thoughtful of yourself. Can't have you dying on me, now can I?"

Astarion's voice velvet, his fingers tracing abstract patterns along your back.

In his comforting embrace your eyelids droop, the pain a distant throb that you wish to have pass. His cold chest soothing against your flushed, exhausted cheek.

He'll pull you even closer, if that's possible and kiss the crown of your head.

"Sleep now, darling. I'll be here with you. Always."

[rheya28]

Bloom Garden & Cafe ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC

Bloom Garden and Cafe offers a delightful escape from the hustle and bustle of city life. Housed within a historic red brick building adorned with timeless elegance, the cafe boasts captivating skylights that bathe the space in natural light, creating an inviting ambiance throughout the day.

Whether you're savoring a freshly brewed cup of coffee, indulging in delectable pastries, or simply basking in the tranquility of the surroundings, our cafe and garden offer a haven of relaxation and rejuvenation

➽ Extra Notes:

● I built this last minute but It turned out so cute so I hope you all enjoy. I'm not quite done my main build, so I'm putting this out for now.

➽ Important Notes:

● Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽ Speed Build Video

00:00 Beginning 00:02 Intro 00:38 Speed Build 14:54 Photos

➽ Lot Details

Lot Name: Bloom Garden and Cafe Lot type: Cafe Lot size: 40x30 Location: Windenburg

➽ MODS

● Tool Mod by Twisted Mexi

➽ CC List

Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, Tuds, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make downloading a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama, Peacemaker, kiwisim4. This will also ensure that the lots are complete and are not missing any items upon downloading ! Severinka ● Industriallight II [lamp C & D] Felix ● Chateau (all) ● Berlin pt [1] ● Colonial pt [3] ● Grove pt (all) ● London Interior ● Paris pt [2][3] ● Florence pt [4] TheClutterCat ● Dandy Diary Bathroom (wall scone) Harrie ● Klean pt [3] ● Shop the look pt [1][2] ● Spoon pt [2] ● Orjanic (all) Little Dica ● Rise & Grind (esspreso machine) Myshunosun ● Garden Stories (Patio lights) Peacemaker ● Kingston Dining (mirror) Pierisim ● Coldbrew ● Domaine Du Close pt [1] ● Mcm pt [1][2] ● Unfold ● Winter Garden pt [2] Charly Pancakes x Pierisim ● Precious Promises (Dining Chair) Softerhaze ● in bloom Syboullete ● Fency (statues) ● Inconstruction (Stake fence) Taurus Design ● Lilith Chilling Area (coffee grinder)

● Tray File: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: Applez ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Patreon: Rheya28 ● Youtube: Rheya28__ ● Reference: x

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

hi! Can i request Riddle and Vil with a kitsure! Reader who is really strict about their appearance?

Like they wear designer everything, and don’t skip nightly or morning routines?

Kitsune Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

As a kitsune with five tails your youth is far and fleeting. So anything to magical remedies and youth-giving potions are all the rage for you. But of course the age you see in the mirror is nothing but accessories to your cuteness in the eyes of some. Too bad they’d rather you spend the rest of their days by your side:

Riddle Rosehearts

“Please put down the mirror!”

“I tell you Riddle after so long I can just see the fat form on my face everytime I eat something sweet.”

“Agh! Have you no rules (Y/n)!?” 

It angers him that a creature of mythical madness is so set on your own beauty when in his eyes you’ve already achieved that

And where you should be involved in all kinds of mischief

Your far too obsessed in an endless pursuit

He can’t help but want to get you on track

Turn your attention from that mirror to him

He’s determined to shift your attention even if it kills others

Vil Schoenheit

“You don’t look a day over a hundred.”

“You mean it? I’ve only had less than a drop from that eternal fountain but I tell you it took off years.”

“I see…care to try a potion of mine? It should have something of the same effect.”

Vanity is something Vil knows well

Surrounded by it in his industry and making it his life

He knows exactly how to lure you in

To bypass your hundreds of years of experience with a quick trick to look youthful

Until he’s prepared a set plan to woo you 

He’ll keep it to himself how whatever maturity you retain entrances him

Catching a kitsune is not unheard of and while he’s not one for the mystical he is all for keeping you to himself

A sleeping potion can be considered rejuvenation right

[crushribbons]

𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖊, 𝖕𝖙. 𝖎𝖛

summary: Sebastian Sallow might be more stubborn than he is curious. (series masterlist)

cw: 3.6k words, light fluff, very suggestive content (18+ ONLY), brief male masturbation, alcohol ment, soooort of dubcon but quickly-established consent, god when will this thing end, probably never, fem reader/oc. requests.

a/n: y'all ever heard of this word, pentalogy? hmm xx laney

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, babbling under her breath like a madman as she yanked a brush through her hair and stared at her tired and bloodshot reflection in the mirror. “Can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t do anything.” In desperation, she replaced the hairbrush with her wand and pointed it at her head. Nothing happened. She wasn’t sure she had expected anything to.

You know whose hair looked wild, as well? mused a very unwelcome voice inside her head. Sebastian’s, in that dream you had. She considered keeping the wand pointed at her head and igniting it if the voice kept up.

With a groan, she gave up on her appearance altogether and looked over toward her dormitory door. Dread clawed up her throat and her heart beat unnaturally fast as she considered the prospect of going to Hogsmeade with Sebastian, as he’d asked her that morning.

“Come on, I haven’t been in ages.”

“You were there on Tuesday.”

“Not with you,” he crooned, and any pretense of annoyance slipped away from her. “Come on, beautiful day for a stroll.” She felt like a weak little lamb that Sebastian had grabbed ahold of with his wolfish teeth. 

She dangled, pathetic and miserable, from his mouth the entire walk to Hogsmeade. He was still none the wiser to her distress (or he was choosing to ignore it), chatting ad nauseam about the skirmish that had broken out in the Slytherin common room that morning. She didn’t catch a single word. Her hair was still frizzing out at her temples and getting caught in her lips as she walked, and she thought she might explode with frustration if she had to be around him for one more minute.

Dreams were usually a very viscous liquid, draining through her memory the second she woke up and tried to recall any details. So why was this particular one, this particularly Sallow-centric dream, etched so deep into her psyche? In the three days since her subconscious had betrayed her and showed her what a potential animal Sebastian could be in bed, her thoughts had been consumed by little else. She was sure all of her dreams from this point on would feature his naked and sweaty form again, so she was careful to sleep in short, awful bursts that did nothing to rejuvenate her for the following day. Maybe she was just losing her mind.

The slightest motion on his part was sending her into a tizzy. In the library yesterday, a huge waft of dust had hit him in the face when he pulled it off a shelf, and he had sneezed three times in rapid succession and yelled, “GOD!” Madam Scribner had been upon him in an instant with a swift whack to his unkempt head, but all his poor classmate could do was clutch the bottom of her skirt and whimper that she needed to step out for a moment. Everything was like this; a tap on her shoulder to get her attention at dinner, a wistful sigh as he gazed out the window and fantasized about never writing another essay ever again, everything was affecting her body more than it ever had. Her silly crush on Sebastian had snowballed, no, avalanched into something unholy that had her completely at the mercy of its icy grip. 

And she was fairly certain he knew it, too.

Their flirtations and awkward exchanges since the now infamous “towel incident” (Imelda, after overhearing Sebastian and Ominis whispering on the topic, had taken it upon herself to disseminate the rumor among their class that the towel had actually fallen to the ground) had felt harmless until recently. Now, she could swear that he was torturing her on purpose. He pouted when she spent time with anyone other than him and kept saving a plate of dessert for her every day at dinner. Last night, he’d even muttered, “If this makes you any sweeter, I'll start losing my teeth,” in her ear while he passed her a piece of chocolate cake. She’d been so goddamned wet by the time she’d managed to choke down enough to satisfy him that she was done, it was humiliating. 

Sebastian’s pinky brushed against hers, and she jumped out of her skin. “What?!” she shouted, jostled out of her sordid imagination by the very man she was imagining. His eyebrows rose.

“I said, let me hold your hand, it’s cold today,” he ordered, and without waiting for her to acquiesce, he laced his fingers between hers and she thought that might be the end of her. His warm hand dwarfed hers completely, long fingers that she could picture all-too-vividly twisting in and out of her cunt trapping her to his side. It was mid-April, and the sun was beating down on them. Desperate, she searched for anything normal to say.

“Does that line work often, Sallow?” she said, but there was none of the usual fight in her voice. It was deflated, a leaky balloon holding on for dear life to its last bit of air. 

He grinned, his shining canines exposed. “It works when I need it to.” Her stomach flipped. The pent-up energy inside her was making her hands shake, and she prayed he didn’t notice.

They walked, hand-in-hand, the rest of the way to Hogsmeade while Sebastian continued rattling off the professional Quidditch teams he was confident he could coach better than their current managers and she stared at the ground. Every so often, they would come across a piece of moonstone, and she would absently cast at it with her wand. He never dropped her hand. 

Part of her wondered, Why are we doing this dance? Why aren’t we talking about any of this? Why are we bothering? He wants me, I want him! End this! 

The other part of her was as stubborn as Sebastian was.

She was so sick of this. Sick of feeling so stupid and lovelorn and driven to the breaking point by a boy whom, until about a month ago, she’d never thought of in any romantic capacity. No sleep, no peace from her own mind, it was really making her sick.

Something in her spine clicked and made her suddenly stand up straighter. Enough of this. If he was so keen to torture her senseless instead of just admitting that something was happening between them, then maybe she would be, too.

“Ugh, this walk is so long,” she sighed the next time there was a lull in the conversation. Sebastian hummed. “Can’t you just pick me up and fly me there, birdie?”

Ooh, but she’d seen less damage taken when someone got hit in the chest with depulso during dueling club. A delighted little thrill charged through her as she watched him twitch and stammer and squeeze her hand nervously. It was like he knew that she’d moaned the nickname out in the throes of subconscious passion. When he wasn’t able to form any sort of retort, she pressed on, starting to feel giddy.

“Come on, you’ve got these big, strong wings.” She dropped his hand and moved to stand behind him. Sebastian tripped over his own feet, and she placed her hands on his back and slid them up to his shoulders, then down the length of his arms. He was stiff, frozen solid in the middle of the dirt road. A patch of daffodils honked softly to their left. God, she was supposed to be taking back the power in this battle of the sexes, so why were her knees turning to goo as she ran her hands over his arms and lifted them from his sides in a little flapping motion? He was so fucking warm and tall. He’d left his robes back at the castle, so the only thing hiding his frame was his school uniform, the green plaid wrapping around every inch and she wanted nothing more than to tear it away. The unbidden image of him in the towel smirked at her, and she dropped his arms back down. “Let’s just pick up the pace a little,” she said meekly.

Sebastian said something unintelligible and nodded, and they walked the rest of the way to Hogsmeade in complete silence, both of their hands firmly inside their pockets. As they crossed the bridge into the hamlet, the smells and sounds floating towards them made their moods rise quite a bit, and Sebastian was his usual smiling self in no time. A fellow seventh-year waved at them as they passed and informed them that Honeydukes was putting on its end-of-term sale. They tried hard to keep their pace as they made their way to the candy store at a light jog. 

“Fuck,” Sebastian groaned five minutes later around a mouthful of fudge, and she screwed up her face in disgust picking daintily at the small bun she’d opted for. Her stomach hadn’t stopped feeling strange. Especially due to the fact that her friend’s mouth was smeared with white chocolate and peanut butter and she still wanted to kiss it more than she could verbalize. 

As much as she was loath to admit it, the day was wonderful. A bright and clear Saturday afternoon with a boy who seemed determined to keep a smile on her face at all times. They ran through the village, stopping at every store to ogle the window displays and point out what they would get if they had a million galleons. Sebastian would get the newest model of broom that Albie Weekes had just stocked (a surprise to no one), and she decided she would buy every last wand that the old and wizened Mr. Ollivander had to offer. 

Sebastian laughed as she handed him the cloud of pink candy floss they were taking turns tearing chunks off of. “Wands?! Why the hell would you buy a bunch of wands?” She scooted closer to him on the bench they sat on so their legs were touching. 

“More wands means more power, right?” She mimicked casting with several different wands at the same time. “I’d be unstoppable. Ranrok wouldn’t have even come near the witch with six-hundred and fifty wands.” He cackled, his face red when he finally came back up for air. His laugh made him so beautiful.

“God, I love the way your mind works! Oh, to sneak in there for just a day.” You’ve actually made permanent residence there, she thought as she watched him examine the enormous haul he’d bought from Honeydukes. 

Stupid, God, you fucking idiot! “Oh, to sneak in there…” Do you want to just give yourself up?! Shut up, Sallow, and maybe you won’t completely bugger this to hell. 

She wished she could read minds. The Hogsmeade square, which had been bustling during the day, was gradually emptying as the sun began to set. She ran her gaze over the shops and homes that were closing their shutters for the evening. Only the Three Broomsticks seemed to really hop after sundown, witches and wizards pouring in to have a butterbeer poured out after a long day of working. Sebastian was a chatty drunk, even more talkative than he was on the average day. He’d tell any stranger his darkest secrets with little to no hesitation. A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth.

“Fancy a drink before we head back?”

They went butterbeer for butterbeer, shot of firewhiskey for shot of firewhiskey, until she realized with a sudden jolt that she was teetering on the edge of very drunk, and that she wouldn’t be any good at extracting an admission of longing from him if she couldn’t form a coherent thought. When he raised his next shot glass to his mouth and tilted his head back, she tossed the contents of hers onto the ground and vanished it with a whisper, her wand poking out discreetly from her lap. Sebastian slammed the glass back down on the table and winced, rolling his neck on his shoulders. “Felt that one here,” he said with a slight slur, and pointed at his back molars. 

“Ick, yeah,” she agreed. Time to deploy the not-so-secret weapon. “So, my little birdie,” she began, bumping his leg under the table with her foot. His pretty nose went bright red. Wonderful. She leaned across the table with her arms crossed. Sebastian’s eyes were shamelessly raking across her chest, as if he was hoping to remove the collared shirt covering it with some psychic power. It was sad, really, how easy this was going to be.

The light din from the other patrons in the bar seemed to soften as they stared into each other’s eyes. Firelight shadows cast from the hearth were casting his clear, greeny hazel gaze golden, and she pressed her thighs together, in spite of herself. “Y-yeah?” he asked. She almost felt bad, with how helpless and devoted to her he looked right now. Almost.

“Tell me. Have you made any…romantic conquests lately? Surely, the great and delicious Sebastian Sallow does not intend to graduate without the company of a fair maiden to look forward to.”

Ohfuckohfuckohfuck, she knows. But how on earth would she–Christ, I’m drunk–how could she know, I was so careful, well, not really, but–fuck, she’s still talking. Look at her face, her face, you idiot, not her tits. I don’t care if she undoes twenty more buttons, just look at her face. Shit, her face is just as fucking perfect.

“You’re squirming, baby bird! You are after someone–who is it?” She couldn’t have kept the grin off her face if she had tried to. “Come now, tell me!” Sebastian looked like he might vomit. He dug his hands into his hair and whimpered, and she knew she had won. She pulled her stool around the table until their legs were pressed together once more. His head was in his hands, elbows on the table, and he was pressing his lips together like something dangerous would slip out if he didn’t. His usual smug, self-assured demeanor a distant memory, she found herself pressing herself against the chair and circling her hips lightly, desperate for this tension to just end.

“I think I know who it is.” She let her lips brush against his ear while she whispered it, her hand resting on his back as she leaned into him. He went rigid under her touch again.

“M’sorry,” he moaned, still hiding his face from her. 

“Oh, why are you sorry, baby?” she cooed. All posturing was gone. She was practically in his lap as she circled a lock of his chestnut hair in her fingers with absent-minded dexterity. It felt just as it had in the dream, just as soft and tuggable. His hands, not of his own accord, had begun sliding up her thighs. Her cunt practically begged for him, responsive to every one of his touches. He finally managed to look at her, and the mixture of pure lust and shame on his face made her want to push him down and take him right there, in front of all of the Three Broomsticks and God. The alcohol was searing courage into her entire being.

The two friends, although no one who observed them would have used that word to describe the two people groping at each other in a secluded corner of a bar, continued sizing each other up as they considered their next moves. Sebastian grasped at words. “I-I–I did something bad,” he eventually choked out, and she hummed in appreciation. “Awful.”

“And what did you do that was so horrible?” she murmured, fingers still tangled in his hair. He was going to admit it, admit that he’d been just as fucked up by the sight of her half-naked as she had been by him. That the visions and dreams and fantasies hadn’t stopped for even a second since, and that he was desperate to end this teasing and screw her stupid. Hell, she’d even respond in kind if she could just get him to say it first…

“I…” He bit his lip, and she almost came at the sight. She was sure that he could notice her grinding, both on the stool and as much of his leg as she could reasonably position herself against. Maybe courage wasn’t the only thing the alcohol was setting off inside her. But she would have made more of an effort to pull herself together if Sebastian hadn’t been fisting the lap of his trousers for the past twenty minutes, wrestling with an erection that seemed to be striking him dumb. Her hand slid down from his hair and palmed him over his pants, and his mouth dropped into a sweet, little “o” after a silky, “Shit, oh, shit,” leaked from it. 

“Are you too drunk?” she muttered, and he shook his head emphatically and walked his fingers across the table in a straight line with a dazed expression, making her snort. He asked in a hoarse croak if she was, and she shook her head also. His cock was so hard in her hand that she mewled a little as she stroked it, friction from the rough fabric making Seb pant and grit his teeth. She could tell he was big; in fact, he felt just as thick and long as he had when she’d dreamt of him railing her just a few nights ago. The firewhiskey still dancing around her tongue asked her if she shouldn’t tell Sebastian about the dream, right now. He’d probably cum in his pants if he ever knew, she thought with a happy and tipsy little giggle. She stopped giggling when he dropped his head into the crook of her shoulder and whined into it,

“I just, fuck, I want y–”

“Sorry, folks. It’s about that time for last call. Gonna be closing up soon.” Sirona Ryan’s voice carried over to them, and they sprang apart from each other. Their stools rocked backward with the sudden jumps, and they quickly rose to their feet, brushing off their laps like they’d just shared a very average dinner. They did not look at each other as they swept past the bar. With two feeble mumbles of thanks to Sirona, they were back on the street. 

She had done something horrible, she decided, something truly abhorrent in a past life to deserve this brand of torture in this one. Sebastian turned to face her, looking as strung out as she felt. “Look,” he began. Patrons were filing out the pub’s door behind them, paying no attention to the two students standing beside the door. The air had a sharp chill to it now that the sun had set, and she sheepishly wished that he would offer to take her hand now. Sober clarity was wiping the sweet fog of butterbeer away in her mind. It seemed Sebastian was experiencing the same.

“Let me just say this while I can still blame it on being drunk,” he said, although the slur was gone from his voice. He sounded like his old self. Like good, old, sweet, messy, rambling, whip-smart Sebastian Sallow. She watched him lean back against the wall and wondered if she loved him. He looked up at the sky, glittering diamond stars studding the velvet black. “I’ve been, sort of…I guess…I’ve had, well–um…”

“Seb,” she whispered, closing the distance between them until their hands were interlocked and their noses were centimeters apart. They looked in each other’s eyes, then at each other’s lips, then back to the eyes. Time had stopped, and he was going to kiss her, and then they were going to sprint back to the castle and rip each other’s clothes off. His nose bumped hers and he used it to knock her head back, just a bit, so their mouths slotted together and she shut her eyes. It wasn’t kissing, not yet, but it was something soft that fucked with her head just that little bit more. “Just…say it,” she ordered quietly. 

But a level-headed Sebastian wasn’t just less suggestible; a level-headed Sebastian would move heaven and earth to play the devil’s advocate.

She felt his mouth crease into a frown and opened her eyes to see that his brow was low. For a moment, she thought he had no idea what she was talking about and that she’d just made a gigantic fool of herself, but she ought to have given the ever-perverse Slytherin some more credit. “You say it,” he suddenly balked, and pulled his neck away so their lips weren’t touching. 

Indignation had her spluttering in disbelief. “What? No, you say it!”

“I won’t.”

“Sebastian!” She smacked him in the chest with both hands. He didn’t even sway. “Say it! Admit it!” She was so tightly wound, so desperate to have him finally, that her body seemed to be melting in the cool night breeze. “Admit what?” He adopted an air of total nonchalance, putting his hands in his pockets and began to meander up the path that led towards the Hogsmeade entrance as if he had all the time in the world. She watched him walk away for a few leisurely paces before she was following after him. She’d been so fucking close, too close to winning! Damn his tipsiness wearing off and being replaced by the mischievousness he loved to torture her with. 

She snatched the back of his vest to try and force him to look at her, but he kept strolling. “Admit you want me! Just say it!”

“Haven’t the foggiest what you’re referring to, but if you do ever feel like admitting to me that you desire me carnally, I’ll be at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the next month, should you need to look me up,” he yawned. 

Sallow, you bull-headed twat. Grab that woman and tell her what an angel she is and take her to bed right this instant!

In my own time, he responded to himself, then he took one last look at the angel in question, who was panting with eyes ablaze. Fuck, he wanted to toy with her like this for the rest of his life. With a crack, the stubborn bastard disapparated.

pt. 5

masterlist

[thedevilrisen]

Prompt Poll - Two

Quinn Hughes x Y/N

Prompt: "When you said you were sick I thought you meant a cold, not the freaking plague."

Description: Y/N got sick, Quinn wasn't expecting it to be this bad.

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Would be greatly appreciated if you could reblog. I love talking to people so say 'Hi' if you want to. Feel Free to send in requests as well. I'm happy to write for most hockey players.

Warnings: Sickness, swearing and thats proabably it! Please tell me if anything else should be added.

-Sincerely thedevilrisen.

-:-

Groaning and half-heartedly, blindly grappling in the general direction of the repeated vibrations of your phone against the wood side table, roused unceremoniously from your self-accredited worlds worst sleep. When you finally came in contact and stupidly turned the offending device straight into your face, hissing as the bright light kissed your sleep and sickness rumpled features, you vaguely registered a text from your boyfriend Quinn.

Hey Honey, how's the cold coming along?

Getting worse to be completely honest with you.

Aw no! Lucky I'll be home in a few hours to take care of you! We are just about to board the plane so I thought best to touch base. x

Thank you Quinny, have a safe flight. :) Read 9:58pm

Quinn POV:

Sneaking in quietly I made sure to gently close the door and be careful not to kick my shoes off into the wall as to make as little noise as possible.

My attempts were in vain however as I heard a very aggressive and horse-sounding coughing fit coming from the bedroom. Walking along the hallway and noticing the soft light bedside lamp flowing out of the room from under the door.

I opened the door to be met with what should be considered a biological war hazard. There was a ungodly mound of tissues on what was normally Quinn's side of the bed, a few soup bowls and coffee mugs stacked precariously on the side tables and a snuffling, moving lump with messy brown hair splayed in a way that would make Cousin It jealous.

"Quinn?" you rasped out.

"Jesus. When you said you were sick I thought you meant a cold, not the freaking plague!"

"I did sa-" you started to mumble but were cut off by a small coughing fit. "I did say before you boarded the plane that I was pretty sure it was getting worse."

"No shit!" the young man laughed scruffing a hand down his face.

"he-" you sneezed "hey, enough of the sass mister, im sick. take care of me."

"Nooo, your all yicky!" he playfully groaned

"But you promised!" you pouted and flopped back down into your warm fuzzy bed.

"I did, my love." he walked around your side of the bed and crouched to your height. "And I always keep my promises."

Kissing your head he walked into the ensuite and flicked on the light. He had ruffled through the mirror cabinets and pulled out the eucalyptus scent drops. Intent on putting some in the little over hot bath he was drawing for you.

When there was enough water in the tub he moved back into the bedroom to rouse you and bring you to the warm and hopefully somewhat rejuvenating bath.

"Honey, can you come hop in the tub?" he asked gently, rubbing your shoulders through his sleep warmed shirt you had obviously stolen earlier.

"mm-comfy." you whined grabbing onto your pillow and burrowing into it.

"Come on honey, it will make you feel better." he pleaded.

"No. Bed." you stated petulantly, to which Quinn sighed and reached in under the warm covers and dragged you protesting form into his arms.

Once he had wrangled you out of bed and into his grasp he soothed your aggressive mumbling and walked into the bathroom being careful not to bang your ankles on the door frame.

Placing you down on your feet he helped you strip out of your clothes and settle down into the warm tub. The sigh of relief you let out after you settled into the tub was worth having to drag you out of the bed for.

Placing a fleeting kiss on your forehead and a stern order not to fall asleep and drown he wandered out of the room leaving the door ajar so he could hear you if you called. Intent on making some tomato soup for you he pulled a saucepan out of the cupboard, found the can he required and and pulled a can opener out of the drawers. Cracking open the can and pouring the viscose red liquid into the heated saucepan, he stirred it and left it to simmer.

-

"How are you going honey?" he asked as he walked back into the bathroom.

"Mm, the eucalyptus helps with the headache." you mumbled, "but i'm getting pruny.

Quinn let out a hearty chuckle as you raised your hand for him to see your wrinkled skin.

"You ready to get out then?" he proposed, still leaning on the door frame.

"Yeah, I think so," you replied, opening your eyes and blearily looking at him.

"Alrighty, I'll get you some clothes." he smiled and wandered out of the room.

Unbeknownst to you he had cleaned the bedroom up, picked up the tissues, bowls and cups, changed the bed linen, placed a bed tray with fresh water, tea and the soup next to where he had pulled back the fresh sheets and stacked the pillows so you could watch the TV which he had turned on for you.

So when you waddled out, swaddled in a giant soft fluffy towel you were nearly brought to tears.

"Quinny," you sniffled wetly.

"Yeah honey?" he questioned walking from the closet with a pair of his sweat pants and a T-Shirt for you. He was startled when you walked over and wrapped him and a hug.

"Thank you." you mumbled into his shirt.

Smiling he kissed your head and said, "Your very welcome."

"What do you want to watch?" he asked, handing you the clothes to change into.

"Hmmm? OH! Gilmore Girls." you said with an evil smile settling into the bed.

"Fine, only because your sick." he conceded settling next to you smiling to himself as you started slurping on your soup, completely enamoured with the show in front of you.

-:-

I'm sorry if its bad! I myself have been sick, swamped with school and family stuff! However it's out! Please enjoy and don't be afraid to come into my inbox to have a chat!

[95rkives]

chapstick⼂j.jk

summary: jungkook had an undeniable fondness for your vanilla-flavored chapstick, so it came as a surprise to him when you decided to switch up the flavor one day. the unexpected change left him pleasantly taken aback.

pairings: bf!jungkook x fem!reader

genre/warnings: established relationship, kissing, fluff

wc: 1.5k

a/n: here’s some jk fluff until i find the motivation to write ur requests :p haven’t proof read!

you perched on a stool beside the kitchen island, propping one leg up on the seat and resting your chin on your knee. in an attempt to ease your anxiety, you absentmindedly chewed on a small plastic spoon—the kind typically used to serve ice cream samples. it had become a peculiar habit of yours, seeking solace in chewing on random objects.

with unwavering focus, your gaze remained fixed on the vibrant glow of your laptop screen. as you effortlessly typed away, your glasses perched slightly lower on the bridge of your nose, yet you paid no mind to readjusting them.

the hushed echoes of soft footsteps resonated through the hallway, heralding jungkook's arrival in the kitchen. a gentle yawn escaped his lips, a telltale sign of him awakening from his midday nap. after his routine gym session, he often indulged in these power naps, finding solace and rejuvenation in their brief respite.

as you stole a brief glance at him, you couldn't help but find his tousled hair endearingly adorable as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. with deliberate and unhurried steps, he made his way towards you. a low, rumbling sound akin to a contented growl escaped him before he mumbled a sleepy "morning," despite the fact that it was well past 2 p.m.

a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you inquired, "slept well?" a gentle smile adorned your face as he leaned in to plant a kiss on your temple, his arms enveloping you from behind, and his cheek resting against your shoulder. in response to your question, he emitted a contented purr, conveying his satisfaction.

as you directed your attention back to the screen, a gentle smile graced your lips while a melodic hum escaped in response to his presence. meanwhile, the plastic spoon in your mouth clinked against your teeth. time ticked by as he slouched against you before eventually straightening up, his tattooed hand tenderly ruffling his own hair. as he positioned himself beside you, he posed the question, "coffee?" to which you replied with a nonchalant, "i already had one."

a gentle, low hum resonated from his throat as his hand, previously occupied with ruffling his hair, extended gracefully to retrieve the small spoon from your mouth. in an exchange, he planted a sequence of brief, velvety kisses upon your lips, prompting a soft giggle to escape from you against his mouth. his lips curled into a smile in response.

with a subtle, sly grin playing on his lips, he pulled back, his eyes still partly closed in the lingering embrace of sleep. he ran his tongue over his lips, detecting an unfamiliar yet oddly sweet taste that enveloped his senses, causing a slight crease to form between his eyebrows in bewilderment. maintaining close proximity to your face, he gazed at you intently. "what?" you inquired, your voice tinged with a low, curious tone, accompanied by a raised eyebrow.

his gaze descended upon your lips, and with a swift motion, he kissed you once more. this time, his tongue lightly traced over your bottom lip, evoking a soft, surprised utterance of "mm" from you.

after a few fleeting seconds, he gradually pulled back, his gaze meeting your amused eyes. the faint furrow in his eyebrows lingered as he tilted his head to the side, his tongue tracing over his lips once more. "cherry?" he inquired, causing you to mirror the slight crease on his brows. however, a soft, laughter-tinged scoff escaped you as realization dawned. returning your attention to the laptop screen, you watched as he straightened up, shaking your head with a hint of amusement. "raspberry," you corrected, a playful lilt present in your voice.

a hum escaped him as he leaned against the counter, propping himself up on his elbow, his fingers idly toying with the small spoon he still held. a soft pout graced his lips out of habit as he fixed his gaze upon you, fully engrossed in your work, observing your unwavering focus.

"that's new." his words escaped as a muttered observation, prompting a soft laugh to escape your lips. Intrigued, you ceased typing and leaned back against the stool, crossing your arms over your chest, meeting his gaze with playful curiosity. "do you not like it?" you questioned, feigning a hint of mock hurt as your eyebrows furrowed deeply, your voice carrying a tinge of playful theatrics.

a soft click of his tongue accompanied an amused laugh, laced with playful offense. he mirrored your posture, crossing his own arms against his chest in a charming display. "i never said that," he retorted, his words carrying a slight pout as he defended himself, provoking an amused, sly grin from you.

"that's certainly what you implied," you countered, playfully teasing him.

"if I did," he began, his voice trailing off as he casually discarded the little spoon into the trash. "would i do this?" without further hesitation, he swiftly leaned in, capturing your lips in an assault of soft kisses. his hands delicately cradled your cheeks, ensuring your unyielding presence in that moment. you playfully whined, your hands instinctively reaching to grasp his wrists as you emitted a soft laughter, intermingling with the exchange of affection against your lips.

"stop!" your voice pleaded, muffled against his persistent kisses. despite your plea, you could sense the curve of his lips forming into a smile, intermixed with soft giggles escaping from him. he pressed closer to you, firmly holding your lips against his, indulging in the moment a little longer than your lungs desired, before finally pulling back. the brief separation left you both breathless, yet utterly captivated.

a breathless laugh escapes him as he shielded himself with his arms, attempting to evade your playful smacks. With each successful strike, he exaggeratedly exhaled faux sounds of pain, adding a touch of dramatic flair to the moment.

after the playful exchange, he eventually seized both of your wrists, firmly yet gently, to halt your actions. bringing your arms around his waist, he drew you into a warm and affectionate embrace. he wrapped his own arms around you, one hand tenderly cradling the back of your head, urging you to bury your face against his neck.

"you're an annoying little rat." you playfully muttered against his neck, eliciting an amused laugh from him. "a rat?" he feigned offense, his voice carrying a slight, teasing high pitch as he struggled to contain the widening smile tugging at his lips while keeping you securely held against him.

"you just kissed a rat." he teased in response, playing along to taunt you further.

"the rat kissed me."

"you kissed back."

"did not."

he emitted a gentle giggle, the sound mingling with the strands of your hair as he tightened his embrace around you. in a playful retaliation, you teasingly sank your teeth into his neck, evoking a soft sound of pain from him. he instinctively pulled back, his eyes searching yours, only to find you grinning widely, a mischievous glimmer in your eyes, as if reveling in your victorious prank.

"deserved."

"does raspberry flavored chapsticks come with an attitude?" he quipped sarcastically, causing a genuine gasp to escape your lips. you couldn't help but be amused, a laughter-tinged scoff escaping as your mouth remained slightly agape, caught between surprise and amusement.

"you're insufferable." you declared, narrowing your eyes in mock annoyance. with a huff, you turned your head away from him, crossing your arms against your chest, a subtle display of defiance. meanwhile, he couldn't help but wear a self-satisfied smirk, reveling in the mischievous banter between you.

"don't be such a baby," he teased, his voice laced with playful amusement. his arms skillfully encircled you from the side. with a mischievous intent, he maneuvered his face in front of yours, attempting to meet your gaze once more, but you averted your eyes, purposefully turning your head further away.

narrowing his eyes in mock annoyance, he swiftly retaliated by tickling you, catching you off guard. you flinched in surprise, a sound of startled amusement escaping your lips before you burst into frustrated bursts of laughter. despite your feeble attempts to push him away, you failed miserably, only fueling his amusement. he chuckled, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, barely containing the urge to laugh further at your delightful struggle.

"you're such a pain!" you exclaimed, delivering a light smack to his chest once he finally relented. your breaths were heavier than usual from the tickling, and he couldn't help but throw his head back in a fit of laughter. his arms instinctively clutched his stomach.

"we could've avoided all of this if you had just cooperated," he exclaimed, a mischievous smirk adorning his lips once his laughter subsided. his arms found you once again, this time lifting you effortlessly from the chair and throwing you over his shoulder. you let out a startled yelp, your eyes widening. "i believe it's time to teach my little cherry a lesson," he teased in a low, flirty tone, beginning to make his way towards the bedroom while you struggled.

"it's raspberry!" you protested with a mix of laughter and determination.

[swap-tech-enterprise]

Public Relations Internship Finale, Customer Swap Stories #2

Hi there, my name is Chris and I am the manager of one of the teams at one of the most elite public relations firms in the country!

When I received a request for a swap within the Swap Tech Enterprise (STE) “Semester in Their Shoes” program, I was super excited as I would be able to train and teach a member of the incoming generation of public relations field. I quickly got to work trying to secure a member of my team who would be willing to swap with Michael, but none were willing to step up. Eventually, I had received a firm no from all members of my team, so I reached out to STE and let them know they would need to reach out to another firm to secure a body for Michael. However, they informed as per the contract both Michael signed when applying for the program and the contract that the company signed as a participating industry leader, I could step up and do the swap with Michael instead. I was nervous at first, because not only would the work load be way more than what he was expecting, but he would also be getting a body twice his age and I would be robbing him of 5 months of his golden years. However, after a lot of deliberation and talking with my manager, we decided it be best to move along with me swapping with Michael not only to keep a good relationship with STE, but so that Michael can gain the experience he was promised when accepted into the program. My manager ensured that he’d be there to help Michael out whenever needed as he would be stepping into a role way out of his caliber. With everything settled, I informed STE of the decision and headed down to the Swap Bank on the day designated. This wasn’t my first time use STE to body swap as I had used it before when going on company business trips, so I quickly settled in and the Swap Technician initiated the swap. Waking up from the swap, I immediately felt more rejuvenated as I was now a 21 year old college student again.

Getting out of the bed, I went to the bathroom and was not disappointed by the sight in front of me in the mirror.

Michael definitely took care of his body, most likely thought eating healthy and going to the gym a couple of times a week. I couldn’t wait to get back to his place and explore more of my new body. For the next 5 months I am Michael, without any responsibilities whatsoever I am going to live it up the fullest until May gets here!

[aurummarie]

Self-Care Sunday

Self-care is about prioritizing your well-being and doing things that make you feel good. Feel free to adjust the routine to best suit your preferences and needs. Here's a step-by-step guide:

Step 1: Set the Mood Create a relaxing environment by dimming the lights and playing soothing music. Light some scented candles or use essential oils to enhance the ambiance.

Step 2: Morning Meditation or Stretching Start your self-care Sunday with a short meditation session to clear your mind and set positive intentions for the day. Alternatively, indulge in gentle stretching or yoga to awaken your body.

Step 3: Skincare Ritual Begin with a gentle cleanse to refresh your skin. Follow up with a hydrating mask or a DIY face mask using natural ingredients like honey and yogurt. Take this time to pamper your skin and give it some much-needed love.

Step 4: Nourishing Breakfast Prepare a nutritious and delicious breakfast. Consider options like a smoothie bowl, whole grain pancakes, or avocado toast. Incorporate fruits, veggies, and protein to fuel your body for the day ahead.

Step 5: Journaling or Creative Expression Spend some time journaling your thoughts, goals, or things you're grateful for. Alternatively, engage in a creative activity you enjoy, like painting, drawing, or writing poetry.

Step 6: Relaxing Bath or Shower Take a soothing bath with Epsom salts, bath oils, or your favorite bubble bath. If you prefer a shower, use a fragrant body wash or scrub to refresh your skin. Consider playing calming music or listening to a podcast as you unwind.

Step 7: Hair Care Dedicate time to your hair care routine. Whether you're deep conditioning, trying out a new hairstyle, or simply giving your hair a break from styling, make it a moment of self-care.

Step 8: Mindful Reading or Learning Spend time reading a book that inspires you or teaches you something new. This could be a novel, a self-help book, or an article related to a topic you're passionate about.

Step 9: Nature Connection If possible, spend time outdoors in nature. Whether it's a walk in the park, sitting under a tree, or simply breathing in fresh air on your balcony, connecting with nature can be incredibly rejuvenating.

Step 10: DIY Spa Time Set up a DIY spa area and treat yourself to a manicure, pedicure, or both. Use a luxurious scrub and follow up with your favorite nail polish for a polished look.

Step 11: Mindful Eating For lunch, prepare a balanced meal that includes a variety of colors and nutrients. Eat slowly and mindfully, savoring each bite.

Step 12: Positive Affirmations Spend a few minutes reciting positive affirmations in front of a mirror. Remind yourself of your worth, strength, and beauty.

Step 13: Creative Cooking or Baking If you enjoy cooking or baking, spend some time in the kitchen preparing a special treat or a new recipe you've been wanting to try.

Step 14: Wind-Down Yoga or Stretching As the day comes to an end, engage in a gentle wind-down yoga session or some gentle stretches to relax your body before bedtime.

Step 15: Relaxing Bedtime Routine Wrap up your self-care Sunday with a calming bedtime routine. This could involve reading a few pages of a book, practicing deep breathing, or using a soothing lavender-scented mist on your pillow.

Remember, the most important thing is to tailor this routine to your preferences and make it a day that feels special and rejuvenating for you. Enjoy your self-care Sunday!