#take your time and make something you're proud of

[thewertsearch]

GT: I should preface this request with an overture of appreciation. GT: For how much your cool and brotherly friendship means to me. GT: It has just been… GT: Absolutely *bully* having a standup gent like you in my corner. GT: Just a grade a dude whos a cut above the others in class and camaraderie. GT: Phew… *gropes for fresh kerchief*.

Wow, Jake is fucking terrified of this guy - or at the very least, he seems incredibly intimidated for a guy who's ostensibly just chatting with a friend.

Unfortunately, this is exactly what I'd expect from a Bro who's not any different from his adult self. Jake's acting exactly like Dave did, back when he was forced to share an apartment with the guy.

TT: Take it easy, bromide. TT: Just about the only way I could salvage endearment from this perilous slope of horseshit would be to discover, really fucking soon mind you, it was a preamble to some floundering invitation for me to rush to your vicinity as nakedly as possible.

In other words, you wish he was hitting on you.

I really don't think he's kidding, especially since both Roxy and Jane seem to want a piece of English, too. Jake's sitting at the epicenter of at least three crushes, which is not a pleasant place to be sitting when you're fifteen.

TT: But since we've already shot that wad's eventuality on so many dry runs of flustered ambivalence that were as hilarious as they were one sided, TT: That leaves only one hope for this message to avoid spiraling toward qualification as a critical fucking defect in the hull of the Mach 10 rocket that is my precious spare time.

And here's the guy's actual personality. It's a fairly even mixture of Rose and Dave, a combination which synergizes much better than you'd expect.

He's still prone to Dave-style rambles - but unlike Dave, his streams of consciousness are every bit as eloquent as Rose's text, which some extra swear words tossed in for flavor.

It's very good, and immediately does a lot to humanize him, especially when all we've seen so far is "roof. now." and "State your business."

TT: And that hope lies in the extent to which you were practicing artful insincerity. TT: Now's your opportunity to pretend that's what you were gunning for. I suggest you seize it. GT: I… GT: Oh. Yes! But of course. GT: The ironies! GT: Good grief how i was bandying them just now. You know me dude. GT: *Blows smoke off red hot irony pistol.* GT: *NONSUGGESTIVELY!!!!!*

lmaoooo

Alright, I can't actually tell if that was a Freudian slip or not - but I kind of hope it was. If these two became a couple, the vibes would be incomprehensible.

TT: I'm guessing you're probably jonesing for uranium about now. No? GT: Ok can you please just sendificate me some more already?? Im in kind of a hurry! [...] TT: You know. I've offered to construct the rabbit for you many times before. I would craft a much deadlier model. […] GT: Damn it man ive told you this is just something i have to do myself. […] TT: Yeah, I know this is your policy. You've done a good job and you should be proud. TT: But it's my responsibility as your friend to offer one last time. TT: Just as it's my responsibility not to just fork over a bunch of uranium just because you ask me in a moment of weakness. […] GT: Why not??? TT: It's too easy.

Throughout this whole conversation, I've been trying to get a grasp on Bro's general vibe - and I think I'm starting to understand it.

When you're talking to Kid Bro, everything is a game - and he'll make damn well sure that you follow the rules.

Jake previously committed to making the bunny alone, and Bro refuses to rescind that rule, even if Jake's no longer following it himself. He strikes me as a guy who frames every interaction he has as transactional, confrontational, or instructional. He's not capable of just shooting the shit - there has to be an angle.

Mind you, I don't think there's any genuine malice in it. I think this is just how he's wired - and I really do think he's trying to help Jake develop as a person, in his own way.

The problem is, we've been down this road before...

...and nothing good lies down this road.

[sizzlingcloudmentality]

fuckboy

unnamed ppu character x f!reader | wc: 3.5 k | explicit, mdni

summary: you meet this guy at a bar, drink too much and he shows you his questionable definition of making out aka storage room sex. spoiler: it's never just the tip.

warnings: filth, very dubious dub-con, drunk reader, her consent is questionable, gaslighting, manipulating, he's an insufferable fuckboy and needs to go to hell actually, he's a bad lay, unspecified but legal age gap, fingering, rough-ish unprotected PinV, creampie, petnames (baby, cockslut), dick+pussy pronouns, two ass smacks, no use of y/n, reader is able-bodied

a/n: this bitch was supposed to be a tiny drabble. oops. inspired by this post. @iamasaddie, you wanted me to elaborate, here you go, i hope this tingles in adult ways, at least a little bit. thank you for your help with the header <3 and thank you @guiltyasdave for the same as always: everything (aka beta and unlimited support and love 💕)

The bar is brimming, buzzing, the bass vibrates through every single person in the room, raw dogging each one of them, one after another and all at the same time.

He looks ridiculous. Too old for a place like this, hideous but somehow sexy Hawaiian shirt, of course only buttoned up halfway to show off his toned chest and a gold chain necklace, and he wears sunglasses, indoors. Big violet mirrors, aviator shaped, hiding behind them. Hiding his intentions but they are oh so clear.

The guy purses his lips, eyebrows dancing, hips moving side to side and back to front, obviously a preview of what’s to be expected if someone hooks up with him.

It was the blondish-white strand in the otherwise dark hair that made you weak for him. You don't even know why. While the rest of the man screams ‘fuckboy’ the blonde strand purrs ‘baby boy’.

The strand looks so pretty, whenever the color of the lights changes, always tinted in red or orange or blue. The strand looks really pretty in the storage room, too. It begs to be touched and tugged.

So you do. You touch it and gently tug it while he touches your thighs and tugs on your panties. Then he tugs them aside and you whimper when he runs his thumb through your slit without a warning.

“How old are you exactly?” he rasps against your neck, licking your skin while his thumb searches for something. Your clit probably, you think and moan when he finds it for a moment.

“Old enough to drink alcohol,” you mutter and let your head fall back against the tiled wall. The turned over crates bite into the flesh of your ass, empty bottles rattle when he pulls you closer towards him.

“So you're old enough for this bad boy.” He grins at you, a stupid proud grin, and takes your hand away from his hair and guides it to the bulge in his jeans. When you don't start moving your hand, he does it for you, over the whole length and back. “You want him? Wanna see him? You do, right?”

His damp breath brushing your ear adds to the dizziness in your head. Your head is spinning a little from the music and the drinks. Spinning, just like his thumb, that is now circling close enough around your clit to finally feel good.

“I dunno,” you murmur and try to get your swimming mind to focus.

“That's not a no, baby. So you want him. I knew it.” His free hand fumbles with his zipper. The crates you're sitting on quake when he pulls down his jeans. And before you know it, you feel something in your palm. Smooth and hard and hot, heavy, jumping in your hand.

It’s not exactly what you signed up for earlier, when he paid for two of your drinks and sucked on your earlobe. When he said something about you being so cute and making out with him. Just kissing. I promise, baby. I know a place. And then he dragged you along with him into this crammed storage room that smells like booze and sweat.

You kissed, for a minute or so. But now you have his cock in your hand. You look down and his thumb swipes over your clit, making you moan and him twitch. Why do you have his cock in your hand? He feels so heavy and warm. He feels a bit good, actually.

His hand moves to cup your cunt, the ball of his thumb pressing against your sensitive nub and a nimble finger -or two?- is slipping into you and immediately back out. At least that's what it felt like, you're not sure. But you feel yourself clamp down on nothing, chasing what was there just a second ago. His tongue moves over your pulse and a whine escapes you.

“Oh, I know, baby, you like him, right?” He moves closer, trapping you between the cold wall and his warm body, between the plastic crate and his dick. A finger dips into your heat again, deeper now, deep enough for you to be sure about feeling him inside of you. This is definitely not just kissing, but it somehow feels good.

“Baby, she wants me. You feel it, too, right?” His tongue runs along your neck and to your ear, his hips buck and your fingers tighten around his cock. He’s so hard beneath all the hot smoothness.

His fingers are pushing in deeper now and you clench around him. “See? You want me. You're so wet, baby. You know that it means you want me.” He pulls his fingers out and presses them back in, matching his thrusts in your palm with the rhythm of fingering you.

You groan out a curse and start accepting your fate. Fine, then you're getting fingered in exchange for a few drinks. That's okay, he's not too bad at it. The thickness of his fingers is half the battle.

The small blonde strand is catching your attention and lures your hazy mind in. Baby boy. Your body already surrenders to his ministrations and you roll your hips, moaning when he slips in another fraction of an inch.

“Mhmm, jus' what I thought. Desperate, that's what you are. You want more? You feel good?”

You dumbly nod your head because all you're able to think about is the throbbing ache in your pussy and the smooth movement of his cock in your hand. Yeah, he makes you feel good. With a wet sound he pulls his fingers out again.

“I'll give you more then, if that's what you want.” He nudges your hand off his dick and grips himself at the base. “Baby, look. He's excited for you.”

You look between your bodies again and squint to get a clearer vision. Precum. He's leaking. There's a clear drop forming over his slit. No, this definitely is not just kissing. Your eyes meet his again and when you open your mouth to speak he shifts forward and wedges the fat head of his cock between your folds.

You're whining again, your hips bucking into the sensation. A moment of clarity forms between your dazed mind and your nudged clit: Fuck. Shit. No. You don't even know his name.

When you start squirming he grabs you by your waist, firmly but not painfully. He hums, sounding a bit strained now. Slowly, slowly his dick glides back and forth through your slit, pushing at your nub whenever he reaches it.

“Baby, what's the problem? It feels good, doesn't it?” His eyebrows dance and he looks at you like a kicked puppy. “God, you're so messy, listen.”

It's true, you can hear the squelching over the soft clinking of bottles in the crate whenever he guides himself all the way to your entrance, rubbing his shaft against you.

“Yeah, but…” You groan quietly when he moves his hips back and drag himself along your clit. “A condom. You have one?”

He just laughs and continues his movements through your slick folds.

“What would we need a condom for, hm, silly girl? They're just cuddling. She hugs him, baby, hugs him real tight.” He pushes his cock forward to your clenching hole, but never makes the final move, never dips in. Your mind tells you no, yet your body clearly wants it, to be fucked.

“And he likes her. Look, they're kissing.” He draws his hips back, cock in hand, and starts dabbing and tapping and burrowing the thick, plush tip against you. “Just making out, like us. That's okay, right? Kissing?”

He pushes deeper again, only to move back immediately. Back and forth, just his tip rubbing you, just the fat rim teasing and teasing and teasing your aching clit. It looks good, the way he appears and disappears again, all glistening.

“That's okay, yes,” you mutter breathily, trying to suppress another moan. He doesn't let up, keeps the slow rhythm of back and forth. God, you need his fingers again, he needs to numb the pulse inside of you.

“I know it's okay. Feels good, hm?” he whispers sweetly against your lips before flicking his tongue against your top lip. “She feels so good, baby… You like how he feels? Like how my cock feels?”

You nod your head again and meet his movements halfway, tilting your hips so you can feel him prod your entrance a little more. The emptiness inside starts hurting and you whimper with his lips ghosting yours. He smells of beer and body spray, all mixing together with a whiff of arousal.

“I need… I need…” you gasp out and try to grind against him as good as you can.

“You want me to stop? Is it too much?” His movements come to a halt and he pulls away slightly, grinning and hiding it behind a sweet little peck.

You squirm again, this time closer instead of away. One hand clutches his, the one he pumps himself with. You swallow, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. They taste like booze and beer.

“No, no, god, please. I need a lil' more?” You tug on him, trying to guide his hand back right up against your core.

“Oh, I'm not sure, baby…” He gives in a little bit and lets his leaking cock rest against your sensitive nub again. “You really want more of me? Of him?”

You tug more on his hand, frustrated with his hesitation. “Need you inside,” you groan and pull on his fingers, wanting them back in your aching cunt.

“Inside? Are you sure?” He lets you squeeze his fingers into the wetness of your slit, carefully letting his dick follow.

“Yes! Please,” you whine and let go of his hand when he prods you with a single digit. Thank fuck, you think.

“But jus’ the tip,” he murmurs almost apologetically.

Your question about what the hell he is talking about is knocked out of your brain the moment you feel a stretch that’s not coming from his fingers. He presses inside of you. Just the tip, like he said. Like you never meant it. But he stretches you so perfectly on the first inches that you can’t even protest. Until he withdraws himself again.

“That good, baby? That what you want? Say yes,” he pleas, his breath hot against your ear and you feel him shift again. His dick slides all the way through your slit to your clit and back, slowly pressing back into you again.

“Fuck, yes.” It feels good. Better than the aching. You just want to feel stuffed. Your forehead drops onto his shoulder and you whimper when he continues to sluggishly fuck you with his fat tip. “But… a condom?”

He sighs and when he pulls out he stops moving again, leaving you hanging and you pussy clenching desperately.

“This isn't even sex, baby. It's just. The. Tip.” He tilts your head up and looks at you over his stupid aviators. “Listen, we can stop if you don't want this. I'm doing this just for you. Because you asked me to. You wanted more, right? Wanted to feel good?”

Your head nods, maybe a little prompted by his fingers under your chin.

“See, there we have it. You want this and they're just making out. Tongue kissing.” He pushes back in and it feels better than before. But you can't really say if he’s in deeper? You don't care too much. Tongue kissing. It makes sense. “I'm just doing this for you, baby. Because you seem to need it so badly.”

He smiles a friendly and seemingly sincere smile while pulling out and pushing back into you, painfully slow. Like scratching an itch with nothing but a tickle.

“I really care about you, hm?” His whisper fleets to your ear when he drops your face back to his shoulder. The next shallow thrust makes him grunt and your pussy clamps down on him. He slips past the tight spot -accidentally probably?- and you feel full for a second. Filled and good and you want it again.

But he draws back again, moaning into the crook of your neck. “Sorry ‘bout that, baby. But you're so wet. Got a slip and slide pussy there.”

His hips roll and his tip nudges back into you. Again and again, until your fingers are clutching him and your body writhes towards him, desperate for more depth. The edge of the crate cuts into the meat of your ass, the bottles rattling with every small thrust.

There isn't much to it. In your hazy mind this thought appears like a beacon. He's been inside already. The damage is already done, nothing you could take back now. He could fuck you stupid instead of feeding you this sample sized version of sex.

He wedges his hard cock back into your hole and slips out again, leaving your cunt sopping and clenching and empty. You can feel your slick slowly running down your thighs. You rarely ever felt this horny, this desperate for a dick. It’s almost like he teases you on purpose.

“Fuck me,” you whine and command at the same time. “God, just fuck me.”

“You sure? I don't have a condom. Are you clean?”

You manage to scoff at his audacity but… maybe he wouldn't ask this if he wasn't clean himself? That's good. It's safe, somewhat safe.

“Of course I'm clean.” You want to sound confident and pissed off but your voice is whiny and morphs into a moan when he thrusts into you halfway.

“I'm trusting you then. Don't lead me on.” He sounds strained now, strangled, with your snug cunt squeezing him.

A handful more slow strokes and he's buried balls deep. Both of you pant, you because your aching gets soothed and he because you pulse around him. Your body tries to egg him on to fucking move, but he just stays still.

“Shit. She tight.” He lets out a single hoarse laughter before his hips buck just a little deeper into you and you swear he must be somewhere in your guts. “Christ, she’s gripping him.”

He pulls out, almost completely, and fills you back up with one harsh thrust.

“Fuck,” you moan and hook your legs behind his ass when the tower of crates beneath you starts shaking from the impact. And then he starts fucking you, hard. Fast. The bottles rattle rhythmically in time with his thrusts.

His hands dig into your hips when he grabs hard enough to feel your bones. He pulls you onto him, fucking himself with you.

He's not good per se, just slamming into you over and over again, his balls slapping against your ass with every harsh pump. But he has a good sized cock, just an inch too long and a little too girthy. The stretching is never ending, the slight sting hurts just right, and his pelvis hitting your poor, swollen, teased clit is going to finish you sooner or later. You just feel so full. The way he stretches you out on his cock makes you dumb.

“You always do this?” He snarls, using the wobbling crate tower for more leverage. “Getting a guy to fuck you in the backrooms? You just need it that bad?” His thumb somehow finds your pulsing nub and he starts to rub it roughly until your legs quake around his waist from the stimulation.

“Oh… oh fuck…” Your nerve endings are on fire and your muscles twitch and clench. You clutch his arm, nails digging into his bicep when he won’t stop to harshly flick and rasp over your clit. Despite it all, you feel the familiar tug behind your navel. The heat is not building slowly, it’s approaching you violently.

“Don’t tell me you're close already, baby?” You see him grin before your eyes roll back, your vision turning black. “I thought I would be special. But you're just using me. Just want my cock.” He lets his hips snap into you, thrusting in too deep but in a good way. “Little cockslut.”

You whine, wanting to protest but you’re pinned down on the tilting crates, spread over this guy’s girth with your toes curling in your shoes. Complaining is the last thing on your mind.

“You gotta pull out.” Probably the only coherent thought you have left. You’re on birth control, but having this stranger’s cum dripping down your legs later when you're back with your friend?

“For real? A cockslut but not a cum dump? Such a rare breed, aren’t you?” His laughter sounds choked, breathless, the wet slapping of his slicked balls against your ass just as loud as his words. “I’ll pull out, don't worry, baby.”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other and plucks your leg off of his waist. Even though your muscles are already tense and twitching he straightens it out over his chest. “But first I’ll make you come on him.” Another hard hip snap and the changed angle makes you see twinkling stars on your retina when he hits you deeper. He grins down at you when you cry out your pleasure. “That's right, baby, let me hear you. Let the people hear that you're my little cockslut.”

His lips latch to your ankle that's resting on his shoulder and sucks on your skin as if he wants to brand you. And while he somehow manages to fuck you harder you wonder how many women in this bar have a hickey on their ankles.

And then you stop thinking. His thrusts turn sloppy, sweat forms on his forehead and runs down your leg and adds to your slick. “I’ll make you come so hard. You can feel it, right? Make you gonna black out on my cock, baby.” A nip to your ankle and then a smack on the side of your ass and your pussy starts clenching and choking on his girth. Still he keeps on fucking into you, struggling with how hard your muscles tighten around him.

“I’m… I’m gonna…”

Your yelp makes him grip you tighter and with a last thrust you fall right over the edge. His moans ring in your ears when his hips stutter, but he keeps fucking you through it. Your spasming body is held securely in his arms, preventing you to hurt yourself on the wobbly crates.

“Fuck, that's it, baby. Best pussy I ever fucked, I swear,” he hisses when his hips start stuttering. “Gonna make me fucking come. Gonna come for you. You want that?” He slams into you and somehow prolongs your orgasm with how he spreads your quaking cunt open over and over again. More of that, you want more of this orgasm.

So you nod your head and moan, trembling like the stacked bottles beneath your body. “Yes, I want that, please. Jus’ don’t stop.”

Another smack lands on your ass and he gives you a few last pumps before he pushes into and against you so hard that it makes you wince. Through the pulsing of your walls you feel him throbs and twitch, spitting out his cum so deep into you that you feel stuffed, really fucking stuffed. And it feels so good.

After a second he starts rolling his hips, letting himself be milked by your pussy until he finally and unceremoniously pulls out. He tilts his head, looking at his handiwork over the rim of his aviators. “Fuck yes. She’s so pretty like that, all wrecked.” The tip of his cock squeezes through your swollen and ruined slit once more, slipping into your gaping hole to draw another moan out of you. When he pulls out again some of his cum gets pushed out and starts running down to your ass.

“You… you didn’t pull out?” Despite your anger your body still vibrates and twitches.

“Couldn't. She gripped me too tight. It’s her fault,” he smirks and pets your mound. “But don't worry, I'm snipped, baby.”

He wipes himself dry with his hand, doing a poor job but he doesn't seem to care. Still half hard and sticky he stuffs his dick back into his boxers. “You want my number, baby?”

“Fuck you,” you hiss and search the storage room for some tissues.

“I knew you'd break my heart, baby,” he chuckles and watches you clean yourself. “But I really like you. You're special. Got a perfect pussy, too. Here, if you wanna use me again, I'm all yours.”

He pulls out something off his pocket, like a business card. No name or number printed on it. He puts it on a crate next to you before kissing your forehead. “God, baby, I think I’m in love with you,” he croons with a shit eating grin.

“Sure you are, fuck off.”

He lifts his hands and walks backwards until he reaches the door. “Gonna miss you.” He purses his lips, making a little kiss noise and disappears back into the bar.

You look over your own appearance and see the blank business card. When you turn it around you see it. A fucking QR code. A fuckboy with a QR code. Some more cum leaks into your pulled back panties and you bite the inside of your cheeks.

“Fuck it.” You put his card into your bra. Stupid cockslut.

you liked this? that's alright, we are all filthy little animals here. commenting or reblogging is appreciated, thank you! <3

want more dub-con? maybe you like this short Dave York fic: tainted heart

find my general masterlist here

dividers: as always @/saradika-graphics

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

PUSH AND PULL

a/n: Hey! Sorry it's been a long time, but rn I have a lot of exams… While I finish them, here's something I've written before.

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: they fight but happy ending! long af

summary: In love, mess is inevitable—especially when you're as stubborn as Jude and you. A fight breaks out, and with it, comes chaos. But instead of facing it like adults, you both become kids again, unable to stop poking at each other and pushing each other's buttons. Whether it's a teasing remark, a too-close-for-comfort touch, or a pointed silence, you both dance around your feelings, caught in the tension of unspoken frustration. However, when the stubborness between you becomes unbearable, one kiss shatters the walls you’ve both carefully built.

The flat was a battlefield of silence. Not the peaceful kind, but the sharp-edged, suffocating kind, where every creak of the floorboards sounded like an accusation. Jude sat sprawled on the couch, legs wide, one hand gripping the remote. The TV played highlights from some old match, but you could tell from the way his eyes lingered on the screen without focus that he wasn’t watching.

You also sat on the couch, cross-legged, your laptop balanced on your thighs. With the television humming faintly in the background, you pretended to be engrossed in your laptop, fingers brushing aimlessly over the keys. Your hair fell over one shoulder, hiding the way you glanced at him every so often, wondering if he would break the silence. He did not. What he did, was catching you once, his dark eyes locking with yours for a brief moment, before you both looked away as if burned.

The tension in the room was suffocating, as if the air itself refused to move. Neither of you dared to take the first step to break the silence, which stretched between you like an invisible wall. The funniest part was that, in a house so vast, the two of you had ended up in the same room, sharing the same couch, barely a few inches apart. It was almost ridiculous. Tho, you didn’t react. Not outwardly, at least. Internally, you rolled your eyes so hard it hurt.

The fight from last night sat heavily between you. It was the kind of argument that left no room for winners, only wounds. You weren’t even sure how it started. He neither. A jab here, a poorly timed comment there, and before you knew it, the words turned sharp, biting into places neither of you wanted exposed. And now, all that was left was this: icy silence and the simmering frustration of two people who loved each other too much to let go but were too proud to make the first move.

Jude turned up the volume on the TV—just a notch higher than necessary. A small, petty move, but you caught it. You gritted your teeth and opened another tab on your laptop, pretending to type while your jaw clenched.

He leaned back, draping an arm casually across the back of the couch, his shirt hitching up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. A silver of his abs. You noticed—of course, you noticed—but you stubbornly refused to let your gaze linger. He was doing it on purpose, you were sure of it. The smug bastard.

To be fair, you weren’t entirely innocent either. You’d been wandering around the house all day without a bra, and you were well aware of how his eyes occasionally darted toward you before he quickly looked away. It wasn’t overt, nothing you could call him out on, but you could feel his awareness of you, just as you were hyper-aware of him.

In retaliation, you slammed your laptop shut, regardless of the tabs you had open. The noise echoed through the room, over the loud volume of the TV, and for a moment, Jude’s eyes met yours. There was a challenge in his gaze, a slight arch of his eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything. Then, as if nothing, you opened the device again.

After a while, your boyfriend, decided that now the couch was not as comfortable as it was minutes before and went to the kitchen. In there, Jude’s movements were deliberate, exaggerated in a way that felt almost taunting. He opened the fridge with more force than necessary, the door creaking loudly, and lingered there for what felt like forever before finally pulling out a bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap with unnecessary force, the crack of the seal piercing the silence.

“You could’ve done that quieter,” you muttered, not looking up from your screen.

He snorted, the sound low and derisive. “You’ve been so sensitive later.”

Your jaw tightened, but you didn’t respond. Instead, you tapped harder on your keyboard, the clatter of the keys a pointed counter to his earlier disruption. It was petty, childish even, but you couldn’t help yourself. If he was going to be difficult, you could be too. You knew he hated that, and when you turned back, you caught the briefest twitch of his lips, as if he was holding back a smirk.

The audacity of him almost made you snap again.

The minutes dragged on, and the uneasy rhythm of your coexistence continued. Jude eventually moved to the living room, sprawling across the other end of the couch. His long legs stretched out, nudging your thigh as he adjusted his position. It wasn’t accidental—you could tell by the faint smirk that tugged at his lips when you glared at him.

“Can you not?” you snapped, shifting slightly away from him. Honestly, even when you were angry, you still liked the warmth of his contact, but you knew that pulling away would bother him.

“What? I’m just sitting,” he said, his tone infuriatingly casual. But then he moved his leg again, deliberately pressing it against yours, skin against warm skin. This time, you didn’t move, choosing instead to act as if you didn’t notice at all.

“Sitting doesn’t involve invading someone else’s space.”

He didn’t respond, but the smirk on his face only deepened, as if he found your irritation amusing. Leaning further back into the couch, he made himself completely comfortable, clearly unbothered.

You turned your focus back to your laptop, though you weren’t sure why you bothered. It wasn’t like you were getting any actual work done.

When he grabbed the remote and started flipping through channels, the sound of the TV growing louder with each change, you shot him another glare. He didn’t acknowledge it, his gaze fixed on the screen as if he couldn’t feel the weight of your annoyance.

“Are you trying to be obnoxious, or does it just come naturally?” you asked, your voice sharp.

He finally turned to look at you, annoyed, raising an eyebrow. “You’re one to talk.”

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, but neither of you said anything more. Instead, you both retreated into the silence, your mutual frustration simmering just below the surface.

By early afternoon, the passive-aggressive dance had reached new heights. You were in the kitchen, making yourself a coffee when he got up moments later, brushing past you as he headed to the sink. You could have moved, made it easier for him, but you didn’t. Neither did he. Your shoulders bumped, and you felt a spark of irritation—at him, at yourself, at the situation.

“Excuse me,” he said finally, his tone clipped but low, his breath brushing your temple as he reached over you for a glass. You stepped aside, not because you wanted to but because your pride wouldn’t let you linger there like some lovesick fool.

He filled the glass with water, the sound of it cascading against the sink somehow louder than necessary. His presence so close to you was suffocating, but you refused to move too far. He stood there for a moment with heavy eye contact after taking a sip, leaning against the counter like he was waiting for you to react.

You didn’t.

Instead, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and bit into it, appearing uninterested. You saw him glance at you from the corner of his eye, and for a fleeting second, you thought you saw amusement flicker across his face. It vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The rest of the afternoon passed in much the same way—sharp glances, clipped words, and small actions that seemed designed to provoke the other. When Jude left his empty glass on the coffee table instead of taking it to the sink, you picked it up with exaggerated care, your movements pointedly loud as you placed it in the dishwasher. When you adjusted the thermostat without asking, he changed it back moments later, the beep of the controls echoing like a challenge.

This repeated a few times.

Neither of you said what you really wanted to say. The words hovered in the air, unspoken but undeniable, like a ghost haunting the space between you.

As the night deepened, the tension between you became almost unbearable, thick and suffocating in the dimly lit room. You lay curled up on the bed, your fingers mindlessly scrolling through your phone, the glow of the screen illuminating your face. At the other end of the mattress, Jude sat hunched over his own device, the faint light from his screen carving sharp shadows across his features. His face was drawn tight, his brows furrowed in a way that made the lines of worry and frustration painfully obvious. You couldn’t help but wonder if you looked the same—tired, distant, and weighed down by the silence hanging between you.

You despised this chasm that had grown between you, the quiet hostility that lingered unspoken in the air. The silence wasn’t a comfortable one—it was filled with an unrelenting tension, an undercurrent of anger and hurt that felt alien and wrong. This wasn’t what you had envisioned. It wasn’t what you wanted. You loved him, even now, even through the haze of pain and frustration that churned within you. That love was still there, steady and unwavering, but it felt harder to reach, buried beneath the heavy layers of everything left unsaid.

Jude shifted slightly, his movement breaking the stillness. His fingers brushed against your arm, light as a whisper, a touch so brief it was almost nothing—but it wasn’t nothing. The contact jolted through you, surprising in its warmth and its ability to remind you of what once felt so natural. For a moment, you both froze. The touch lingered, suspended in time, carrying more weight than such a small gesture should. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, he pulled his hand away, retreating back to his side of the bed.

The silence returned, heavier than before.

The bed had grown colder as the hours ticked on, the tension between you and Jude acting like an invisible barrier, keeping you both firmly planted on opposite ends of the mattress. Sleep came to you first, though not peacefully—it was the restless kind, with the occasional shuffle and murmured sigh as your body sought the warmth that your pride kept you from asking for.

Jude stayed awake longer, his phone abandoned on the nightstand. His gaze flickered toward your sleeping form, the soft rise and fall of your shoulders pulling at something deep inside him. Even in sleep, there was a tightness to the set of your jaw, a lingering sign of the frustration that had consumed the day. He wanted to reach out, to smooth the lines away with his thumb, to press a kiss to the crown of your head like he always did when you argued. But the memory of your sharp words, and his own stubbornness, kept him still.

Eventually, exhaustion claimed him, and he drifted off into a restless slumber.

Next morning, the dim light of morning crept through the cracks in the blinds, casting soft stripes across the room. Jude stirred first, his body stiff and warm under the tangled sheets. He blinked, disoriented for a moment, until he became acutely aware of two things: the faint scent of your shampoo and the fact that his arm was draped securely around your waist.

His heart thudded once, heavy and slow, as the realization hit. Sometime during the night, you two had moved closer, the invisible wall of your argument forgotten in sleep. Your back was pressed against his chest, your legs loosely intertwined, his nose buried in the crown of your hair. It felt impossibly natural, like the way you used to fit before the fight. His hold on you was firm but careful, as if even his sleeping self knew you were something precious, something not to let go of.

Jude’s lips twitched into the faintest of smiles before his pride crept in, whispering to him that this was just a fluke. He wasn’t supposed to be happy about this, was he? You were still angry—still caught in the push and pull of your unresolved tension. But damn it, holding you like this felt good. Really good. It felt right. He allowed himself one more selfish second to savor the moment before you stirred.

Your soft murmur pulled him from his thoughts. You shifted slightly, pressing closer to his chest, your body melting into his as if seeking his warmth even in sleep. His heart ached, and a wave of affection so fierce it startled him coursed through his chest. He wanted to kiss you, to tell you he was sorry for the things he said, the things he didn’t say. But pride anchored him in place, so instead, he lay there, pretending he didn’t feel anything at all.

You woke to the steady rhythm of his breathing and the unmistakable weight of his arm around you. For a moment, still caught in the haze of sleep, you sighed contentedly, nestling closer to the warmth behind you. It felt safe, familiar, and so achingly right that it made your chest tighten.

But then, reality crashed in like a bucket of cold water. You froze, eyes flying open, as you realized exactly where you were—and who you were with. The fight, the tension, the stubborn refusal to bridge the gap between you—it all came rushing back, drowning out the soft thrum of happiness that lingered from waking in his arms.

Still, you didn’t move immediately. Instead, you let yourself linger for just a moment longer, feeling the solidness of him behind you, the warmth of his breath against your neck. Your heart ached with love, raw and unrelenting, a stark contrast to the frustration still simmering beneath the surface. How could you feel both so intensely at once?

You wanted to turn around, to meet his gaze and let the love you felt show on your face. But the pride that had fueled your argument held you still. You couldn’t be the first to crack—not after last night. So, you did what you always did: you pushed the feelings down, buried them under a layer of indifference, and carefully shifted away.

You swung your legs out of bed, avoiding Jude’s gaze as you reached for your robe. He remained lounging on his side, his dark eyes tracking your movements.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. It wasn’t quite warm, but it lacked the sharp edge from yesterday.

“Morning,” you replied, fastening the belt of your robe with deliberate nonchalance.

As you padded to the kitchen to start the coffee, Jude followed, his footsteps soft but noticeable. He leaned casually against the counter as you worked, his arms crossed over his chest. The silence between you hung heavy but was no longer suffocating—just thick with the remnants of stubborn pride.

“You’re not going to make me a cup too?” he asked, arching a brow when you filled a single mug. A smirk tugged at his lips.

Yep, that early in the morning.

You turned, lips also twitching. “Last I checked, you have two hands and know where the mugs are.”

That smirk persisted, and for the first time in what felt like forever, it wasn’t mocking—it was teasing. “Wow. So generous this morning.”

You shrugged, raising your mug to your lips. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

Jude shook his head, stepping forward to grab his own cup. You moved to lean against the counter opposite him, your mug cradled in both hands. He stood closer than necessary, the distance between you shrinking inch by inch as the minutes passed.

“You were hogging the blanket last night,” he stated suddenly, breaking the quiet.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me? I was hogging the blanket? You’re the human furnace who takes up three-quarters of the bed.”

He scoffed, setting his mug down. “Three-quarters? Dramatic much? You sleep like a starfish.”

A laugh escaped before you could stop it—a real, unguarded laugh that felt like a balm to the tension still clinging to the edges of the morning. Jude’s lips quirked into a grin, the kind that softened the sharp lines of his face and made your heart skip despite yourself. You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

The teasing was lighthearted, a refreshing shift from the icy tension of the previous day. But underneath it, the stubbornness remained—a silent promise that neither of you would be the first to openly admit you wanted peace.

Jude leaned against the counter, his coffee in hand, watching you with that maddening smirk. It wasn’t just his expression; it was the way he stood, as if the entire kitchen belonged to him, as if he were perfectly at ease and you were the one who had to figure out how to navigate the unspoken rules of this little game.

“You’re staring,” you pointed out, raising an eyebrow as you sipped your coffee calmly.

He shrugged, utterly unbothered. “Can you blame me? You’re kind of hard to miss.”

“Oh, please,” you retorted, setting your mug down and crossing your arms. “I’m not in the mood for your cheesy one-liners. They are not working.”

“It wasn’t a one-liner. It was an observation,” he replied smoothly, taking a step closer. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief as he added, “And besides, it’s not my fault you look cute when you’re grumpy.”

Your jaw tightened, but the corners of your lips betrayed you, twitching upward for just a moment before you caught yourself. “I know you miss me, but this is not the way of fixing things.”

“Miss you?” he shot back, leaning closer, his proximity making your heart stutter. “I woke up with you cuddling against me so…”

You rolled your eyes and turned away, feigning nonchalance as you began to tidy the already clean counter. “That’s not how... forget it,”

The morning passed in a steady rhythm of petty jabs and fleeting touches that neither of you could resist. When you walked past him to grab something from the pantry, his hand brushed lightly against your lower back—just enough to make your skin tingle. You shot him a look over your shoulder, but he was already looking elsewhere, as if the contact had been incidental. You knew better.

Later, as you stood by the sink rinsing your mug, Jude joined you, crowding your space under the guise of washing his hands. The sink was large enough for both of you, but he leaned in anyway, his arm brushing against yours, his warmth seeping into your skin.

“Do you mind?” you asked, tilting your head to glare at him.

“Not at all,” he replied with a grin, his voice laced with mock innocence.

You huffed, turning to move away, but his hand darted out to catch yours. The suddenness of it made you freeze, and for a moment, you just stared at each other, the air thickening between you. Jude’s thumb brushed against the back of your hand, a simple, unassuming touch that sent shivers racing up your arm.

But just as quickly, he released you, his smirk returning as if to mask the moment of vulnerability. “Don’t trip over your own stubbornness,” he said, stepping back.

You bristled, turning sharply to face him. “Me? Stubborn? That’s rich coming from you.”

The tension that had been simmering all morning suddenly flared, sharp and electric. That was what you both needed. “You’ve been impossible since yesterday,” he shot back, his voice rising just enough to match yours. “I’m not the one slamming laptops shut and stomping around like a child.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you took a step closer, your chest brushing against his as you jabbed a finger at his chest. “And I’m not the one deliberately trying to piss the other off!”

Jude tilted his head, his smirk fading into something darker, more serious. “Oh, you think I’m the one pushing buttons here? Newsflash, love—you’ve been just as bad.”

“Love?” you repeated, your voice dripping with incredulity. “Don’t you dare—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Jude’s hands moved, quick and decisive. One slid to the small of your back, the other cupped your ass firmly, and in one smooth motion, he pulled you against him and lifted you off the ground. A startled gasp escaped your lips, but it was swallowed almost immediately as his mouth crashed against yours.

Finally, you thought to yourself, something you would never say out-loud.

The kiss was hot and demanding, a clash of teeth and tongues that mirrored the intensity of your earlier fight. Jude’s lips moved against yours with a ferocity that left no room for argument, his grip on you possessive and unyielding. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your hands finding purchase in his neck as you pulled him closer.

For a moment, you forgot everything—the fight, the pride, the stubbornness. All that existed was the heat of his mouth on yours, the solidness of his body pressed against you, and the way his hands gripped you like he never wanted to let go. It was messy and desperate and so painfully raw that it left you breathless.

When he finally pulled back, his lips were red and swollen, his breathing uneven as he stared at you with a mix of frustration and something deeper, something softer. “You argue too much,” he said, his voice rough and low.

You blinked at him, your chest heaving as you tried to process what had just happened. “And you—”

“No no, shhh,” he interrupted, his mouth crashing against yours again. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, but no less intense. It was an apology, a truce, and a declaration all rolled into one.

When he pulled back this time, his hands lingered, one sliding up to cup your cheek while the other stayed firmly at your waist. His thumb brushed lightly across your skin, and the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch. His chest was heaving, just like yours, as if the kiss had stolen the air from both of you.

You stared at him, the heat of his touch grounding you even as your heart raced. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence thick with everything that had just been said without words.

Finally, you broke it, your voice soft but steady. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, meeting his gaze. “For… being difficult. For letting it drag on like this.”

Jude raised a brow, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and amusement. “Oh, so you can apologize,” he teased, though the smirk on his face softened at the edges.

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched despite yourself. “Juuude, don’t ruin the moment,” you warned, your tone light.

“I’m not,” he said, his voice gentler now. “Keep going, come on, I want to hear you say how wrong you were.”

Your laugh slipped out before you could stop it, and you swatted lightly at his chest. “Don’t push it.” But then your smile faded, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. “I really am sorry, baby.”

His teasing faded as he looked at you, the sincerity in your voice settling over him like a balm. “Yeah, well,” he began, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer. “I’m sorry too. For being a stubborn ass. And for… picking fights when I should’ve just talked to you.”

You tilted your head slightly, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. “We’re a real pair, aren’t we?”

His thumb traced circles against your hip, his touch impossibly warm. “We’re kind of great, though,” he whispered, his voice almost teasing. “When we’re not driving each other crazy.”

You let out another soft laugh, his breath warm against your lips. “You’re not wrong.”

The air between you shifted, the playfulness giving way to something deeper. Your lips hovered over his, your breaths mingling as the tension built again, electric and magnetic. You kissed him this time, slow but deliberate, pouring every ounce of affection and apology into it. His grip on your waist and ass tightened, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the way his heartbeat echoed yours, fast and unsteady.

When you finally broke apart, his lips were slightly swollen, his eyes dark and half-lidded as he gazed down at you. “You’re a tease, you know that?” he muttered, his voice husky.

You smirked, the heat still thrumming through your veins. “Only for you.”

“Lucky me,” he murmured, his tone both teasing and sincere. Then, without warning, he bent slightly, sliding his hands down to your thighs and hoisting you up effortlessly. A surprised laugh escaped you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you out of the kitchen.

“Jude—what are you doing?” you asked, though your tone betrayed more excitement than protest.

“Making up properly,” he replied, his voice low and rough in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “No more interruptions.”

You didn’t argue. Instead, you leaned into him, your hands threading through his hair as he kissed you again, his lips stealing every thought from your mind. Whatever tension had lingered between you melted away completely, leaving only warmth, laughter, and the undeniable pull of each other.

[whorelaud]

oh how i loved this... please you always have my jaw on the floor!! this was such a nice thing to come back to ugh i kiss my hubby so bad pleasee rafes so controlling I NEEDD put me in a headlock pls 😅😅 the idea is so creatuve tbh i was so exxited when you told me about it ahhh love love love literally ate down im speechpess

you had slid onto his lap and placed your hands on the sheets, letting Rafe pull you into a passionate kiss. you could feel how eager he was in the way his tongue played with yours, his mouth was always so good at devouring yours, deep crushing against your lips. at the moment, your little head was nothing but empty, waiting for your boyfriend to give you something to think about.

unless he gaggin on my tongue then we not making out 😜😜‼️

when he felt it coming, he pushed you back against the mattress. he didn't want to cum in your mouth, he wanted to save all his loads for your pussy. he placed himself between your legs, lifting them so easily with his arms and his head disappeared between your thighs.

FERALL NEED THAT 🤕

without warning, he had pushed his cock into your wet hole already coating the glistening tip. his eyes glued to the stretch of your lips as he entered on your insides. your pussy was so tight he was sure you felt every inch he added to your sticky walls, every depth he reached. “ come on, take it for me babe…yes…just like that…look at you being such a big girl, taking it all….can you feel it growing inside you… ” it seemed so slow until you finally felt that wave of pleasure when he started to move. “ r…rafe !! mmph…” you cried out bursting tears. “ i promise, you do such a good job…” he praised you. “ baby, you're literally owning that dick. ”

oh i almost humped the air

his dick was huge, taking all the space of your pussy and making a home everywhere. with both of his strong hands, he grabbed each of your braids, wrapping them tightly around his wrists to put pressure on your useless doll head, forcing your neck to back a little while your eyes rolled hard under his breakful thrusts. he started playing with your hair, making the twin braids bounce above your body, driving your body with his hands and pushing you to arch every time he pulled on them to drive you.

IM SEATEDDD 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ OH MY GOD YED UED HOT

“give me a kiss.” he commanded, and you complied. “ such an obedient girl. you really want to make me proud…”

my girl boner hard

“ do you understand it, babydoll ? ” you tried to reply but some short panting escaped your lips, leaving you whimpering at the front of his mouth. "this pussy is nothing when i'm not inside it."he said with the venom of his tongue, as he had laid you back against the mattress, resuming his initial rhythm inside of your cunt. “ say it. ”

HES SO DOMINANT IM WEAK 😮‍💨 babydoll oh you want me to pass out dont you

“fuck. you're gonna regret those words, babydoll. ”

a woman never backs down on her words 🤷‍♀️

little playdoll // rafe cameron x reader

summary : rafe's finding some kind of fun with your slutty twin braids.

warnings : +18. minors dni. smut. oral (f&m r.). hair pulling/playing. choking kink. dumbification/dollification. p in v. dirty talk. etablished relationship. be aware of the warnings before reading.

author's note : none.

“you know what that means…” he whispered as he slipped a hand on the pink choker that decorated your neck, passing a finger under it to pull you towards him.

you had slid onto his lap and placed your hands on the sheets, letting Rafe pull you into a passionate kiss. you could feel how eager he was in the way his tongue played with yours, his mouth was always so good at devouring yours, deep crushing against your lips. at the moment, your little head was nothing but empty, waiting for your boyfriend to give you something to think about.

he loved admiring your face after a kiss, your luscious lips parting in a stream of drool as you were looking at him with small stupid eyes. your breath was so short, literally serving as an excuse for him to make fun of you.

rafe always dreamed of having a pretty little doll at his disposal. maybe, it was due to the sexual frustration he felt after being a virgin for so long. but now he had you and not only were you his, but he owned you completely.

you were his type, the kind of bimbo who never got on his nerves because your only desire was to please and satisfy him. you were the kind of doll who had a brain between her thighs. it was the only thing Rafe asked you to use and nothing else. but you had so many other charms. after all, you were a fucking doll. you were multifunctional.

you had a fantastic mouth. not only did she say everything your boyfriend wanted but on top of that, she took and swallowed everything he gave you. you had amazing lips but they were even more amazing when they were around his cock and started giving him the blowjob of his life. oh yes, and damn, you knew how to make him a happy man.

he was in love with the way your mouth moved over his dick, the way your throat tightened every time he buried himself deep inside you. while you were losing yourself in tears, he gained inches between your lips until he completely invaded your space. you were short of air, your eyes were rolled back and your back and forth came louder and faster. your sobs were diminished by guttural sounds, by the pumping noises of your opened mouth on his length.

he was so hard, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, no matter how much you gag, no matter how much saliva dripped from your lips. you were full, and all you wanted was for him to change holes. your pussy was wet, waiting to be fucked, to be used until it was ruined.

rafe looked at you with eyes full of lust, you consumed him with your lips. everything was sloppy except your two long braids which were still intact. he couldn't afford to damage his work after spending an hour on it.

your tongue lapped at his cock, making him tremble with every stroke of your muscle. your mouth was useful, working intensely on his length, doing the job nice, wet and clean.

when he felt it coming, he pushed you back against the mattress. he didn't want to cum in your mouth, he wanted to save all his loads for your pussy. he placed himself between your legs, lifting them so easily with his arms and his head disappeared between your thighs.

he wasn't going to waste his time. while he sucked on your clit, teasing the bud, and making it throb softly, he pushed fingers into you starting with gentle and pleasurable thrusts at first before following a faster and harder rhythm.

he was insane when it came to making you feel good. his fingers were thick, and you felt like they were even bigger between your walls. he was making sure you were going to be able to take it.

his lips alternated between your quivering clit to your wet folds. his tongue licked from one spot to another while his fingers were pushed far into your pussy, forcing sometimes the tiny hole to stretch, before fingering you raw.

your pussy was soft, and he was latching at your taste. his tongue was fat and sticky against you. your poor sensitive clit being bullied by the rough muscle but it was nothing compared to the fingersfucking your cunt was living.

you were such a little mess, whimpering and screaming like you were a helpless prey. you were trying so hard to stay still but it was difficult with your boyfriend eating you deep.

when he decided that you were finally fuckable, he placed you on all fours while he stood behind you, his dick already in hand. “ gonna make you very pretty…”

without warning, he had pushed his cock into your wet hole already coating the glistening tip. his eyes glued to the stretch of your lips as he entered on your insides. your pussy was so tight he was sure you felt every inch he added to your sticky walls, every depth he reached. “ come on, take it for me babe…yes…just like that…look at you being such a big girl, taking it all….can you feel it growing inside you… ” it seemed so slow until you finally felt that wave of pleasure when he started to move. “ r…rafe !! mmph…” you cried out bursting tears. “ i promise, you do such a good job…” he praised you. “ baby, you're literally owning that dick. ”

you said something muffled and his voice came deep and raspy against your ears. “ look at you soaking yourself on my cock and drenching your cheeks with tears…such a wet baby, making a mess everywhere…"

you swallowed hard, giving him a small whimper in response while his length bullied your cervix, giving you the insane strokes your needy cunt needed. your sweet core was dripping, wetting the size of his big dick to the point you could only hear the spongy sounds of your juices brushing every of his moves.

his hips were snapping at your ass while he pounded at your core with powerful thrusts. the room was loud with your breathless pathetic cries. “ ‘s too much…” you plead out, your tongue was out, panting over your chin like a pup, a stream of saliva spurting out of your mouth every time he was hammering you hard. “ come on, baby. it's not even close to what i can really give you…quit acting before i show you what's really too much. ” he was over you, the sweat brightening every part of his toned body, his mouth fucking grunts at you as a smile slowly floating on his lips. “ huh huh, suddenly, you're much quiet…should i give you something to cry about….”

his dick was huge, taking all the space of your pussy and making a home everywhere. with both of his strong hands, he grabbed each of your braids, wrapping them tightly around his wrists to put pressure on your useless doll head, forcing your neck to back a little while your eyes rolled hard under his breakful thrusts. he started playing with your hair, making the twin braids bounce above your body, driving your body with his hands and pushing you to arch every time he pulled on them to drive you.

you complained with a small gulp. and he answered you. “can't i have fun with my doll after making her all pretty? ”

you couldn't even answer that he had already continued his game with your hair. you felt the strength in his hands in the way your pigtails were pulled back hard as you were restricted in your movements due to the pressure on your head when his cock always running heavy to your hitted spot. “ such a good pussy, taking my dick so well. she's understanding what she made it for. "

your hair was pretty, decorated with bows that shakened through your braids when his thrusts were too sharp. your clit was pulsating, as legs were trembling and your fists curling the sheets under your fingers.

he had figured out how to be controlling without even talking to you, just by pulling each of your braids, but above all how to make you fuck yourself on his cock without having to give you orders until you were finally the only one moving your hair in his hands.

Rafe was addicted, your body bouncing in sync with the movement of your braids who were slapping your own back. you were perfect.

“give me a kiss.” he commanded, and you complied. “ such an obedient girl. you really want to make me proud…”

your body was mixed with so many feelings. the pleasure was intense, so stimulating that you were overflowing with wetness on all sides. your flesh was sweating and you were suffocating. you kissed him, locking your lips on his. “ good doll. ” he commented, brushing the side of your left cheek with his mouth while some of his fingers came between your lips. understanding quickly what he wanted, you immediately started to suck on it, drenched them with the saliva leaking from you. you were messily pumping, the loud gagging sounds from your little throat echoing around the majority of his digits. the way he was caressing your skin with his lips was a rare part of softness during the moment. your cunt still busily fucked by his rawed dick while your stuffed mouth was foaming.

“ do you understand it, babydoll ? ” you tried to reply but some short panting escaped your lips, leaving you whimpering at the front of his mouth. "this pussy is nothing when i'm not inside it."he said with the venom of his tongue, as he had laid you back against the mattress, resuming his initial rhythm inside of your cunt. “ say it. ”

“ this pussy…is n-nothing…when you're not inside it. ” you repeated softly, tears running down your cheeks.

“ good you have such a pretty pussy because it's not that stupid brain that would get you anywhere. ”

he grabbed your braids and crossed them across your neck before pulling back like a leash. At first, you didn't feel the lack of air until his hips slapped your ass evily, and his thrusts became more powerful. you had started to feel the itch, the terrible suffocation, breathing becoming slow and weak like your moans.

you couldn't say anything because Rafe was your boyfriend. he knew better than anyone what was good for you. so if he did it, you took it even if it hurt. your eyes were filled with salty tears. and the worst part of it all was that he was right. you had nothing in your head at the moment, neither the capacity to think nor the capacity to act and he took that to his advantage.

he had left you unconscious for a few seconds before letting you breathe again. the feeling was terrible but so exciting. it was as if you had come back to life without ever having left it. your pussy was still fucked dirty, your body overstimulated. the seconds seemed long to you but they were actually quick.

he couldn't let you die. you were the only doll he liked to play with, he couldn't damage you that quickly.

your pussy had clenched so tightly around his cock when he choked you that he had cum inside your core. “ brain so empty but pussy so full…such a dumb baby.” you could be sure he had redone the walls of your hole with all the sperm that had spurted out of his tip.

“you should do that hairstyle every day. "

“anything you want..." you said.

“fuck. you're gonna regret those words, babydoll. ”

[the-witty-pen-name]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DAhZ9_msWmB/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

With eddie munson aka the freak, when a new Alt girl comes to town and is like really into him, maybe Gareth or jeff dare him to say it or something

OH MY GOD THAT IS SO EDDIE

Gareth has a new neighbor who moved in next door and the guys see you all the time when they have band practice in the garage. You wink at Eddie whenever you catch him staring at you and it's given him some confidence to flirt with you when you walk-by on your way home. You make him really nervous and he's usually pretty good at hiding it around you but the guys tease him about you mercilessly when you aren't around. It's always little coy interactions, harmless flirting but you make him feel like you might want things to progress further.

You're sitting on the couch watching them practice and Eddie approaches you after they finish the last song. You're smiling at him oh so sweetly and he can't help but feel it fuel his ego enough to try to push the boundaries of your little back and forth you have going on. He liked the idea of making you speechless and nervous. He loved the way you'd respond to him and his little quips. After a dare from the boys, he decides to take it up just a notch.

You toy with the chain on your skirt as he approaches you, and to the untrained eye- you were bashful. But it was just part of your bit with him.

"I like your belt, by the way," you compliment, your eyes flutter to where the handcuff belt rests on his hip. He smiles, blushing a little- his face hidden by his mess of curls as he slides his hands into his back pockets.

"I've got a pair that I think you'd like even better," he blushes- a little nervous he's being to forward.

"Maybe if you're lucky, I'll let you use them on me," you reply, without missing a beat. His eyes widen and you smirk, proud of yourself for making him so flustered. His jaw drops and you wink at him before heading out, casually saying goodbye to Jeff, Grant and Gareth like you didn't just say that.

If Eddie wasn't already pathetically in love with you, that did him in for good.

[sethsclearwater]

Congrats on 5k! I’m so proud of you! This blog is everything that one could ask for. For the celebration, just imagine an embry x reader fic where they start off as friends, and she can’t tell that he likes her back. Until he comes to her house one day tells her that he tells her that he likes her back and that it was practically fate (bc the imprinting thing). And then they passionately start to make out due to their feelings being pent up for so long and … 🤭 you can go as deep into the ending (with smut) as you like. But it’s just an idea

so cutie!! i loveeeeeee this!!

...

"you promise paul or jared or whatever one of those guys you've been hanging out with didn't put you up to this?" you asked, gaze flickering between embry's eyes and your driveway as you tried to subtly peer over his shoulder to try and see if paul or whoever was secretly hiding in embry's car and just waiting for you to be the punchline in one of their latest pranks.

embry let out a soft sigh, shaking his head, "promise no one put me up to this," he reassured, holding your gaze for a moment before he looked over his shoulder to try and figure out what exactly you were looking at.

you blushed a deep crimson when you realized he'd noticed, "jus' wanted to make sure they weren't out there recording this or something," you whispered, gaze shifting to the floor as you tried to figure out a way to hide from the relentless embarrassment that seemed to be hijacking your entire system at the moment.

embry frowned, stepping through the doorway of your home so he could close the door behind him, "'s just me, promise," he reassured, sighing when you didn't lift your gaze.

realizing you were definitely beating yourself up about your hesitation over the whole imprinting bomb he just dropped on you, he decided to take matters into his own hands and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly to his chest.

before you could open your mouth to protest, he pressed his lips to your hair, "don't start," he mumbled against your hair, squeezing you as tightly as he could without concern of hurting you.

despite the stress written all over your features, you let out a heavy sigh, dropping your shoulders as you wrapped your arms around his waist as well, just happy to know you finally had your best friend back.

although the two of you had hugged plenty often and even cuddled on more than one occasion, you still had a hard time believing that he saw you the same way you saw him.

"you promise you're not lying?" you mumbled against his chest after a few moments of silence and embry just rolled his eyes despite knowing you couldn't see it.

realizing you definitely weren't going to let up until he figured out a surefire way to prove it to you, he lifted his head from yours, taking one hand to gently prompt you to look up at him, "can i kiss you?" he asked, smiling when he saw the way your eyes changed as your brain short circuited for a good 3 seconds while you tried to figure out how to respond to him.

"can you-" you started, pausing as you tried to figure out the words to say next, your cheeks heating up again as you studied his gaze, "you can," the words had barely left you before embry's lips were on yours.

your fingers tightened against his t-shirt, melting into him as he backed you into the wall, clearly intent on proving to you just how much he meant that you were his imprint.

embry's hands slid down to your hips, gently squeezing them as the two of you melted into each other, "are you-" the words coming out of your mouth were muffled by the way embry's lips were still on yours but he'd managed to hear enough anyway.

"i'll swear to god i'll take you right here and now if that's what it takes to prove to you i'm not lying pretty thing," his voice was breathless as he rested his forehead against yours, his expression not even giving you the slightest indication that he was messing with you.

"right now?" you whispered back, the butterflies in your belly suddenly taking over your brain as you finally let go of the anxiety you had and instead focused on just how badly you wanted him.

"right now," embry reassured, not wasting any time picking you up to take you to your room when you nodded.

[thesensteawitch]

Message From Spirit Animals 🐢💚🌳

Pick A Pile Tarot

(Left to Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)

Hello, lovely Senstea Souls!💟

I hope you're all doing well. This is another collective tarot reading so take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

If you wish to book a tarot reading with me then I'm mentioning the links for the same below:

Booking Form • Rate Card

🐢💚🌳🐢💚🌳🐢💚🌳

Pile 1

You're in your feels pile 1. Trust me, the pain is in the past. And you know that. Some of you are allowing yourself to feel grief for one last time.

Stingray💚: You've made some right choices over and over again. Good job on standing firm on your beliefs and boundaries. A celebration is coming your way as you're manifesting something new. You've never experienced this kind of blessing in the past, but you've definitely wished for it. You've become a magnet for aligned opportunities/communication, and I know you don't see it manifested in your reality yet, but it's approaching you very soon. Like, VERY soon.

Frog💚: This spirit animal wants you to fully step into your power. Don't run away from feeling too deep, as this time you won't drown. It seems that you've got your feet in two different worlds because you don't want to let go of your safety net. If you don't let go, you won't fully be able to experience your blessings. Trust the cosmos.

Dragonfly💚: You're too busy finding faults, and Dragonfly wants you to look at the brighter side of things. Your life was meant to unfold the way it did. Nothing more could be done. Rather than changing your story, accept it. Honor it. Find meaning in your journey. Don't blame yourself or anybody for how it panned out.

Overall message🌳: You understand that you're yearning for something that makes you feel the lack of it, and you know this isn't helping. Stop looking at things from thousands of angles and finding ways that life will never favor you. Don't sabotage yourself into believing you've a long way to go. No, you don't. You've come a long way. It's time for you to let go of the old version of you completely and let this new version shine bright.

Pile 2

This pile reminds me of freedom. Your energy is so well put. This powerful person you've turned into is all due to the pain you've gone through. You have gone through some major endings in the past. For some of you, it's regarding a person, so if you still wonder if the story is over? Your answer is yes, it's over.

Camel💚: Water is important for you. I feel that you've got a lot of heat in your body and even rage. You're peaceful unless provoked. You're self-reliant and self-sufficient. The camel is here to remind you that you may have had to go through some major challenges for years, but it takes you only a few weeks to recover from them. Do you see that??? Isn't that beautiful? You guys are quick learners. I feel some of you were with someone for years but fell out of love as soon as you saw how incompatible you two were. It took you some time, though. Anyway, you're shining, pile 2. You're glowing. Just stay hydrated to glow even more!

Gazelle💚: Gazelle wants to tell you that it's so proud of you for turning your pain into wisdom. It wasn't easy for you to isolate yourself with the abandonment wound you had. But you did it. Gazelle wants you to never look back at all, as you've already learned your lessons. There's no more to learn. It's time you eat well. I hear something about weight loss. Maybe you've lost weight or want to lose weight. It's time you take care of your body and move it a little. I hear, “graceful moves.” Try slow dancing or yoga. As you're a sensitive being, you need some extra care. And hey, “the old chapter's been burned.” Move on happily.

Firefly💚: Here I feel that your intuition is trying to tell you something, but you're blocking it. You're emotionally intelligent but do have a bit of trust issues because of your past (not gonna blame you, though). There's silence between you and someone you're meant to be with. Maybe you know them or don't know them at all (it seems that you've met them in your past life). Another thing that I'm seeing here is that you're still figuring out what you were made for. You're being encouraged to restart working on an old passion. This is a gift that you just couldn't work on because of mental blockages. But it's changing now.

Overall message🌳: Your wisdom isn't dangerous; it's powerful. I watched a movie yesterday, and there was a beautiful dialogue in it that goes like this: “Your difference is your POWER!” Do not be afraid to stand out and speak your truth. If you keep doing what the whole world is doing, then you'll lose your essence. An exciting new beginning is headed your way after what you lost. And it's happening all because you have been doing well in the school of life.

Pile 3

As you've surrendered by being backstabbed in ways you never imagined, do you realize that you pushed too hard to make something work? However, the universe is about to return the rewards of your efforts from a different source.

Black Egg💚: I know it feels like your prayers are not being answered. Things have been moving slowly, and there has been slow progress materially. It's because you doubt your work, especially your words. It's time to trust in your age-old wisdom and not look for validation from the outside world. You've got a lot to be grateful for; you just need to shift your focus from what isn't working out to what is. Talk to yourself about it and be honest.

Cosmic Egg💚: In slowness you channel the wisdom from the ethers. You have access to an abundance of knowledge. Allow your lower chakras to accept and trust the messages you receive. Go slow and be patient; you're about to be massively blessed. If water comes with force, it will cause havoc; similarly, the more you rush, the more you mess up. If the flow of water is slow and steady, it's going to help nourish the mother earth. The universe has something special to gift you and bless you with. You deserve it. Also, spend more time in nature.

Beaver💚: Water and Earth are prominent in your reading. Financial blessings are coming your way. Your heart will feel satisfied with what you're about to receive. What you're about to receive is going to be your justice. As you've been at the rock bottom, you deserve to be at the top too because you never gave up! You've been doing what you felt was your calling and what the universe wanted you to do. Not a lot of people care about their purpose but their sense of security. If you did what the universe told you to or allowed the cosmos to have control of your life while you focused on your karma, then you're about to receive what you deserve. Everything is going to balance out. If you've been looking for a home or a place for yourself, you'll have enough to afford it.

Overall Message🌳: The tough cycle has ended. It's time for you to receive your blessings as you've learned enough by spiraling from lesson to lesson. Bees may be significant for you. Some of you may have been as busy as a bee.

[sutekh94]

I hate to be the brutally honest one in the crowd, but Salem, if you're reading this?

Your audience - myself included! - loved that doodle you posted. Wiping that off the face of the universe - not once, but twice! - is not only doing your fans and supporters a disservice, taking something that people clearly enjoy away from them. It's doing yourself a disservice. You're telling yourself you shouldn't be proud of even that little doodle. You're letting your demons get to you. You don't "have to be" this hard on yourself regarding your art, and the fact that this is far from the first time you've been this way about your art speaks volumes imo.

Really, what I want you to take away from all this is that I hope you come to start seeing your art in the same ways your audience does. None of your audience expects you to be perfect. Nobody wants you to be a machine that only creates "good" art, that forces himself into a world of pain and self-loathing because he perceives some of his art to be "slop" even though it's not. And sometimes you gotta be less than perfect. If helps keep you in the groove, if only out of practice, so be it. I say this from experience. So what if I draw something that I don't feel is up to my usual standards? If my audience is happy about it, I'm happy about it. It's why I post it anyways. Because I know people will love it regardless of what I think and feel.

At the end of the day, you do what you want with your art, but don't feel like you gotta force yourself into being perfect, into making only "good" art. Because there is no such thing as "good" art. Just be as self-indulgent as you want.

Sincerely, another stranger on the internet.

sorry.

[farthest-harbor]

how about some smutty or fluffy domestic hcs of Nick with a m!Sole?

Sure! I'm gonna keep it fluffy for now, if that's alright.

In the evenings, Nick likes to dance with you to the radio. Nick always insists on leading, and he's so good at it, how can you complain? For the slower tunes, he holds you close and rocks you sweetly, and on the faster ones, expect him to dip you a few times. If you take him out to the Third Rail to dance, he's happy to show off both his skills and his charming dance partner.

If you shave, he likes to hang around while you do, chit-chatting and admiring you. Prewar Nick had a fancy shaving set with nice brushes and such. He made a whole ritual of it. Synth Nick misses that ritual now that he doesn't need to shave, but he likes to watch when you do. The process feels oddly intimate to him, he's glad you're willing to share it with him. Don't let him distract you too much, though...

Nick likes to read aloud to you in the evenings. Poetry, mysteries, and biographies of the jazz greats are his favorites, but he'll read something you pick if you ask him. He lets you rest your head on his chest while he reads, the low warmth of his voice slowly lulling you to sleep. When you finally doze off, he puts the book down and lets you rest, stroking your hair gently and wondering how he ever got so lucky as to have you.

At first, Nick's a little shy about PDA. He gets enough unwanted attention in public as it is, he's not sure he wants any extra. But the longer you're together, the more he warms up to the idea, and soon enough he wants to hold your hand everywhere you go together. Better watch out, he's stealing kisses left and right. He's proud to have you with him, and you give him confidence he never had before.

He will try to cook for you. Emphasis on 'try.' He never was a great cook prewar, and his sense of taste is different now that he's a synth. Ingredients have changed a lot, and he doesn't always know how to adapt the old recipes he knew. He's made you a couple really bad meals. It's up to you whether you'll eat them anyways and risk having him cook more, or if you'll bite the bullet and tell him the food is nasty. If you do, he'll stick to making you coffee instead.

Speaking of coffee, since he doesn't need to sleep, he's wide awake while you're groggy and fresh out of bed in the morning. So he makes your coffee each morning just the way you like it. It's one kitchen thing he has been able to master.

He loves when you borrow his clothes, finds it here hot. He doesn't have a wide selection, but if he catches you wearing his hat, or borrowing one of his button-downs, his eyes will be glued to you and he'll be grinning like a fool. In his opinion, all his things seem to look better on you.

Hope I did your ask justice, I guess some these are pretty gender neutral. Thanks for sending me an ask! :)

[gremlin-girly]

This is really relatable but to be the voice from the balcony:

All great things take time.

Rushing something to appease everyone will make you hate your own creation, making a cycle because you don't want to write it anymore.

I'd rather wait in suspense for something you're proud of and excited to share so I can be excited with you but I know it can be hard when you get in your own head 💖

Everyone should know that their work is always, always, always worth the wait.

The constant fear of being too slow to update/publish things for anyone to continue caring about my stories and my writing. Regardless of what's causing the slowness. I'm just so scared that people will grow frustrated with me and when I finally do publish something, it'll be crickets.

[orlastarburst]

[Radio broadcast to all of hawkins]

*TV starts on*

Bald mike nation, it's me, orlastarburst.

As you can hopefully hear, I am not infected right now.

You're probably really confused as I was giving secret codes and messages, not even hours ago, making you believe I was a soldier for the MMM, and for a while í ẃ᧠- - sorry , but I managed to fight off the virus, and you're probably wondering why?

To simplify it, the MMM were stalking me, they sent me messages, watched my house, and ate my trash (I can't prove this, but trust me). At first I didn't realise what was going on,,, before it was too late.

They got my brother first.

They tried to recruit him, and he declined.

They didn't like that.

He-he was so brave. . . God. .

They- - They infected him, turned him into that THING

I knew something was wrong, they cut my Internet, so I didn't get @dynamicccsworld 's warning. I didn't know.

*car honk in distance*

I locked my brother in the basement where we played D&D, I had to save him.

I contacted the MMM and they proposed a deal.

I save my brother, but in return. . . . I take his place and help spread the disease for the queen

I lied to you guys.

I posted as normal, I commented on byler posts, but slowly, I was turning into one of them.

The MMM kept their promise, my brother came back the next evening. But I was gone.

I told him to run, to get to Lovers Lake, and find help. I haven't heard from him since.

*car screeching*

The longer I was infected, the more I started to lose my mind (and bald). I couldn't talk, I could only oɓəy, and I did.

But something was different, I noticed I wasn't like the other infected, I still had a conscience.

My head was an internal battle, one half, my core byler, trying to fight of the MMM and the other half being a hopeless blank static.

It went on like that for a while, but soon, a new voice started to appear. He said his name was Professor Green.

At first, he spoke only in letters, the words lost in the void of my mind, but soon, I could hear what he was saying. He was repeating one sentence;

"Do you want to be my friend?"

*static*

He helped me a lot-

*glitch*

And He will help you.

*car beeping and swerve sound*

I- - I don't have much time but LISTEN to me.

You - *car noises get louder* you need to get to the arcade, that's where professor green is. He knows how to stop this-

*cars constantly honking*

I-It's it's LOVERS LAKE, all the byler truth has been gathered in the waters, it's pure byler shipping energy. IT repels the MMM, and is - as far as I know - the only safe place in Hawkins.

But they were one step ahead of us.

They told me about it when I was still fully infected, so I can't remember most of it

But i do remember that - - the MMM are building something, a weapon.

They're going to unleash it on judgement day, the 7th day.

It's power source is- -

[Brodcast interrupted my unknown cause]

"§ťöp ťĥį§"

[Reconnect]

-you can't let them WIN!

. . . Protect bald mike, find professor green and please . . . If you find him, keep my brother safe.

*background noise gets loader and screams can be heard*

*teary voice* I can't go on this journey with you. They're on to me, they've found me again.

It was an honour standing by your side in the bald Mike nation.

Being crazy together with you guys has been the best thing I've ever done.

*window breaks*

Goodbye byler nation, I hope I made byler proud.

*gun shot*

*car crashes*

[Brodcast ended]

[jesterday00]

[everysongineverykey]

honestly it bugs me a little how 99% of the comments on the these are the days of our lives music video, one of my personal favorite queen mvs for pure aesthetics and mood, are people calling it "heartbreaking" and hand-wringing about how SICK and PALE and CLOSE TO DEATH freddie mercury looks. like. wooow the dying man looks like he's dying? really? well done, nancy drew! have a gold star! yes aids is an awful fucking disease and yes hiv positive people shouldn't be reduced to washed-out portraits of the words "inspirational" and "strong" by the media and they should have their pain acknowledged but guys. freddie, by all accounts, very much Did Not Want To Dwell On It. he told his friends he had aids and then immediately was like but i don't want to talk about it. i just want to spend the rest of my time making as much music as i can. and his bandmates accepted that and supported him! he wanted to spend the time he had doing what he loved with people he loved and who loved him and he did. he had, by all accounts, a great last year. that one person who took the days of our lives bts color footage and edited Sad Piano Music TM over the entire thing and intercut interviews with the rest of the band also with Sad Piano Music TM and made it so we could barely hear freddie even say anything... it makes my blood boil like he's literally just. like it's literally just footage of him walking and discussing a take with the director and standing waiting for the take to start like. normal video filming stuff. and all anyone can see is a tragedy because he's walking stiffly or whatever

[realmbred]

✨       *           :       the   speed   at   which   the   other   ate   did   not   go   unnoticed.   elenorius   was   curious   as   to   why   the   witcher   decided   to   slow   down.   did   he   always   mimic   those   that   he   was   with   or   was   the   older   man   special?   questions   that   would   probably   never   find   their   answers.   plus,   only   a   man   with   a   healthy   ego   would   have   thought   that   he   was   the   reason.   shortly   after,   he   too   finished   his   meal,   so   he   made   sure   to   brush   his   hands   and   robes   of   anything   that   could   have   been   clinging   onto   them.   the   taking   off   of   the   armor   could   have   been   sacred.   the   high   priest   knew   enough   witchers   to   assume   what   it   meant.   the   man   felt   safe.   whether   because   he   wasn't   alone   or   he   had   absorbed   enough   of   the   wilderness   to   know   there   were   no   more   beasts   wasn't   important.   it   was   something   that   elenorius   took   into   account   and   would   make   sure   not   to   betray.   he'd   stand   on   guard   for   both   of   them.   as   the   man   stripped   himself   of   a   layer   of   protection.   luckily   for   him,   he   had   no   armor   to   strip   off.   unless   people   wanted   him   stark   naked   since   he   often   times   just   wore   his   robes.   perhaps   no   underwear   underneath   either.   helped   him   connect   more   with   the   lands.     ❝       and   here   you   are   now.   alive   and   well   enough   to   tell   the   tale.   that's   not   something   everyone   has   been   able   to   state.     ❞       call   him   biased,   but   the   high   priest   thought   that   the   witcher   trials   in   vissai   were   extremely   hard.   perhaps   because   he   had   a   part   in   making   them.   so   a   dark   smile   formed   on   his   face,   almost   like   he   was   proud   of   lorent.     ❝       i   do   recommend   it.   it's   a   beautiful   place   even   if   you're   not   hunting   monsters.     ❞       he   stuck   his   hands   out   closer   to   the   fire,   eyes   still   glued   onto   the   other.     ❝       what   was   your   favorite   hunt?     ❞     keep   him   busy,   he   told   himself.   a   bored   witcher   could   be   trouble.

⚔️           *           ﹕ㅤㅤ     the witcher finished the last of his bread and fish, deliberately slower to imitate the high priest's manners after being witness to it, trying to savor its taste rather than just chasing the simple satisfaction of a nearly full stomach. with a quiet huff of satisfaction, he brushed the crumbs from his palm and leaned back, eyes still trained on elenorius, letting the the warmth of the fire crawl over him, its heat softer than the hearth of his chamber in varlinnis' capitol. it reminded him of his years fulfilling contracts and hunting monstrosities, sleeping in some ramshackle inn, or out in the wilderness just like now. and gods, he couldn't say he didn't miss it. he needed more of that warmth, needed it to seep into skin. lorent stood after a moment or two, hands working mechanically to unbuckle the straps of his leather armor, each releasing with a quiet snap. it was more intentional that hurried, the kind of methodical care from someone who knew that your gear could be the difference between life and death. but it was also a quiet testament⸻ here, by the fire, with the high priest murmuring about beasts and lands, lorent voltehre felt no immediate threat, felt safe. for once. it must be a blue moon. the witcher shrugged free of the weight, leaving him in a linen shirt clinging to the hard lines of his torso, damp with sweat and mist.         ❝         vissai,          ❞         his lips twitched, not quite a smile, but an unconscious tug from a sudden memory. he might serve the crown of varlinnis now, but vissai was still where he came from.         ❝         had to steal an egg from a griffin's nest for my witcher trial, can't say i'm unfamiliar with those peaks.          ❞         a slight chuckle slipped past his lips, a suggestion of fondness over the experience.         ❝         but can't say i know umoria like you do. took a couple contracts that way  ﹕  wraiths in the woods, drowners in a river ... but never stayed long enough.         ❞         gaze still lingered, but it was more than just curiosity now, but murkier, tangled, as though he wanted something but could not find the words to ask.

[lear-dot-rpy]

me: thank you for everything sir

my prof: you shouldn't be taking me, you should be annoyed at me.

me, incapable of anger and on the verge of tears: no, still, thank you. even though I failed, you still gave me the opportunity to try and achieve my dreams by helping me shift courses. you still gave a shot to study here in this state university. i still get to live on with no regrets that i didnt try

my prof: ... Ms. Lear, no matter where you may go, I hope you [something I didn't hear]

me: what?

my prof: just looking at you stresses me out. everytime i look at you i feel stressed out. just take a break and do what you want to do in life

me, emotional whiplash: wait what, what do you mean-

[kiefbowl]

here's some more unsolicited adult advice as someone in her 30s who knows there are a lot of twenty somethings and teens that follow her: if you're trying to build a new habit you really want, and are struggling, you have to break it down to the smallest building block possible. If you're failing, you haven't thought small enough. I know it's possible to hear stories of people who just snapped into new life mode one day by "just deciding", but truly what's happening there is a confluence of events and experiences that force the brain into some sort of epiphany. You cannot will an epiphany. It'll never work. For most times of your life, you will need to build habits intentionally, and that means not working against yourself and to set micro goals. like laughably tiny goals. because once that easy tiny goal is met, you can build off it, tiny goal after tiny goal until you reach your big goal.

so for example, if you want to be a morning person that gets up at ass crack dawn so that you can work out, eat brekkie, shower, and get to work at a leisurely pace, and you're not that person because you will hit your snooze button 800 times, you have to get the big picture goal out of your head. think smaller. "I want to get up 15 minutes earlier than I normally do." If you can't do that, make it 5 minutes. "I want to cook breakfast every day" hell no too big. "I want to eat something, anything, before I leave the house" hell yeah, fantastic. When you go to the grocery store to make sure there are things in the house for breakfast, if you keep buying bagels and microwave sandwiches that you ignore, you gotta think smaller. SMALLER. What's something so easy to eat that you'll never say no to. Is it a yogurt? Is it a handful of grapes? Is it a hostess ho ho? is it hot cheetos? FORGET the big picture of the fantasy put-together woman preparing a full nutritious meal that you'd be proud to admit to. Think only of the smallest goal you can achieve. If you know you can't say no to an ice cream sandwich, put a ton of ice cream sandwiches in your freezer and have one for breakfast every day until it's so instilled in you that you gotta get up to eat something you can start diversifying.

It sounds like, from the lack of habit place, that must take forever. But really it doesn't take too long to form the habit once the discipline kicks in. the trick is that you have to give your brain something easy to become disciplined to. If it's too hard, think easier and smaller. No one has to know. Literally no one in the gd world has to know that for 4 weeks when you were 22 you had an ice cream sandwich for breakfast every day. who cares. If it gets you eating oatmeal with fresh fruit in a few months who cares. you did it, yay. smaller, easier. if you can't do it, think smaller and easier. smaller!! EASIER!!! You are not thinking smaller and easier enough. break your brain thinking how small and easy you can go. SMALLER. EVEN SMALLER, SIS.