#the second hand embarrassment is real

[halo-chainsaw]

TINA SLIPPING UP AND CALLING BBH DAD

[thelostsisters]

he has heterochromia. if you even care

[lover-of-mine]

Maddie's introduction was written by someone who doesn't have siblings because if I walked into my brother in the shower I would turn around so fast you would see the little puffs of air as if we were in a cartoon.

[speedytherandom]

Sometimes fanfiction is great. Sometimes it creates a new number one spot for worst ways for your friends to find out you are in love with your best friend and are actually doing something about it.

[ihateadulthood]

[venussisi]

my favorite girlfailure

[petrichoraline]

@littleragondin

Are you saying...?

Ah. I mean wanting to stay together like this is like... having a close-knit family relationship.

[athousandbyeol]

what are you laughing at, mew? i'm laughing at you. you're going off-key. are you saying i'm toned deaf? no. you're cute. why would i care if i'm toned deaf? i'm blinded by the love for you anyway. who would have thought a rich man could come up with this cheesy line?

[lover-of-mine]

No because Buck asking Abby what she's wearing gives me such an ick.

[hesterias]

bro i cannot look at tlsp live videos anymore w/o kicking my feet covering my face and giggling like i truly feel like i'm intruding on an intimate ass moment

[dragonskxn]

Annalise stands there, bewildered at the sudden intrusion and quick exit of said intruder. Before she can even relax and get back to her practicing, her door quickly opens, her own agent breathlessly peeking in and ushering quickly with his hands.

"Annalise, chérie, quickly, quickly! It's time!" The man had only briefly passed Butch in the hallway, too rushed to even pay attention to him as he hurried towards the opera star's dressing room.

"Already?! I'm coming!" Annalise gasps breathlessly, clenching her billowing skirts in her hands as she hurries alongside her agent towards the stage, barely listening to his words of encouragement. She couldn't be distracted — it was her debut!

Her and her agent both freeze at the edge of the stage. Annalise claps her hand over her mouth in horror as she sees the man from earlier yelling out into the audience, striking a chord on his guitar that echoes throughout the hushed theater.

The attendees, dressed in fine tuxedos and evening gowns, whisper among one another. Was this some sort of joke? Where was the opera that was promised? Even the orchestra waiting below in the pit stare up at Butch, not knowing what to do.

Annalise's face burns with embarrassment as she notices her sponsors, sitting in the front row with looks of disgust on their faces. Her agent had already rushed off to grab security, it seems, because two uniformed guards briskly walk past Annalise to confront the stage crasher.

"Sir- please, you're causing a disturbance. This is an opera, not a rock show," One of them says, his voice gruff as he tries to grab at the rockstar's arm.

Annalise had never expected to be sought out by an agent for her voice — her singing was a hobby; working her farm was her true career. But to be recognized by her musical talent, and to be sponsored by a very wealthy couple, Annalise figured whatever money she could get would be good to help improve the rundown homestead she lived on.

Plus, she was told, the rags-to-riches backstory would be a real tearjerker for fans. The poor farmgirl with an angelic opera voice. Not that that story's been done half a million times....

She sits in her dressing room located in the grand opera hall — a popular venue for all manner of extravagant events. It's her big debut, and Annalise is already decked out in a billowing cream-colored ball gown, her fluffy hair teased and coiffed into an elaborate updo, woven with flowers and pearls.

In the midst of practicing her scales, the door suddenly pushes open, and her singing is cut off by a surprised yelp. She pushes her chair away from the vanity, nearly knocking it over, as she stares at the intruder.

"Wh...wrong room?! Monsieur, this is my room! I...I think you might be lost." She gapes at him in surprise. He's clearly not one of the other performers, all decked out like some kind of rockstar.

[crystalsongbird]

Steve and Jon being asked if they enjoy being "boring old farts."

[the-final-knight]

Uh so *I clap my hands together* are we ready to leave then? How long until night fall?

Hey Robin, what are you up to?

-@the-final-knight

Huh..? Oh uh… not much Selma. You?

[alecvolturi]

Uses of a Secretarial Desk, Demetri Volturi Smut

Hi. Hello. I have no idea how to intro these things, other than be warned this is the first smut piece I have ever written, and there was no proof reader. 

You’re the Volturi’s secretary and have stayed late in order to do some paperwork. Luckily, you can’t get too bored with Demetri around. 

Characters: Demetri Volturi, reader with female genitals. Brief Felix. 

Names used for reader: Y/n, Dolce ragazza, sweet girl, love, darling girl, sweetheart and precious. 

TW: mention of chasing

This is part 1.

Part 2 is here.

Part 3 is here.

Your laughter was traveling down the echoing stone hallways of Castle Volturi. You knew the sound was loud enough to draw attention toward the two of you, but you couldn’t seem to keep quiet for long. If Demetri wasn’t causing you to laugh, he was making you moan. Demetri had been making witty little quips in between the kisses he was pressing to your neck, kisses which were made easier after he had lifted you to sit on the secretaries desk.

He stood close to you, pressed tightly between your spread thighs. One of his hands was cradling the nape of your neck, gently threaded in the hair there, which he occasionally used to tilt your head for better access to your neck. His other hand was resting on your outer thigh, gently caressing upwards and inching up under your skirt before smoothing back down towards your knee where he’d pause to rub small circles with his thumb before continuing the pattern.

On what felt like the thousandth circuit of his hand’s teasing pattern, your thigh gave an involuntary twitch and you made a small whine in your throat. Feeling his hand inch up towards where you wanted it, a little closer each time, only to move away again was maddening. Demetri smirked against your neck, sucking one last bruise into the spot that he knew was the most sensitive, and shifted so he could speak softly, lips brushing against your ear.

“You whined, Dolce ragazza?”

The smirk in his voice would have been infuriating at any other time, especially as you knew he was teasing you on purpose, but now it only served to heat your blood further.

“You’re being cruel, Dem”

“I’m a vampire, it’s said to be in my nature. Besides, it’s not cruel if you like it.”

His hand had settled on the inside of your thigh, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the edge of your panties at the crease between your thigh and hip, and his smirk deepening when your breath caught on a low moan.

“See? Enjoyment.”

You smacked his chest immediately for the cheek, a reprimand on the tip of your tongue, but couldn’t find the strength to get the words past your lips as his fingers deftly dipped past the edge of your panties and in, in, oh god finally, to where you wanted them.

His touch was cool but warmed quickly due to your own body’s heat. He kept his touches light and teasing, never enough to be satisfying but present enough to leave you wanting. Every moan, sigh, or whine you let out was met with a kiss. Lips brushing over your neck, then pressed to your shoulder. He stepped further between your thighs, pressing so close his hard length could be felt brushing against you as he continued his kisses. A peck on your cheek, a tender kiss pressed against your forehead. Eventually, his lips captured yours in a passionate kiss, which he broke not minutes later with a growl.

“I need you, sweet girl. Now.”

“Should we mo-“

“No, here.” He cut in “You’re so wet for me. Right here on your desk, love. Is that okay?”

“Yes, Demetri. Please”

You hadn’t even thought about it. Perhaps you should have, given the traffic of people that passed by your desk on any given day. Although it was late and you hadn’t seen anyone in hours, it was still possible for a stray guard to appear.

Demetri was quick to remove his belt, the clinking quick and sharp as he did so, before undoing his hands and freeing himself from them. You took the opportunity to shove your skirt further up, before starting to pull your panties down and off. You’d gotten them down to your mid-thigh, before Demetri cut in, ripping them off of you like they were made of tissue paper. Which, to him, you suppose they are.

“Hey! What if I liked those?”

“I’ll buy you more.” He spoke quickly, reclaiming his spot between your thighs, and your lips, and pressing close. “As many as you want, precious.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” You gasped out, biting his bottom lip gently as you felt the head of his cock pressing insistently against your entrance.  

“I have something better in mind for you to hold against me, darling girl.”

He was inside you then, thick and hard and perfect. God, you’d been thinking about this all day. The perfect end to a busily stressful day of working at this desk was, as always, a quick fuck on it.

He thrust inside you, his pace hard, deep, and glorious. The desk made a sound as it slid across the floor, and Demetri cursed under his breath as he followed the desk, and the warmth of your cunt, until the desk was against the wall.

“Remind me to anchor this desk in place, sweetheart. While I can enjoy a chase, this isn’t what I had in mind.”

The force of his thrusts caused the desk to knock against the wall and a steady knock could be heard.

“Oh, Y/n” Demetri moans “you feel so good wrapped around me.”

Knock “Y/n. Does that feel good, love?”

Knock “Y/n”

Knock “Y/n” his voice sounded different, detached with almost a hint of amusement.

Another knock sounded, and you felt the vibration of it against your head. It was like ice water had been poured down your back and suddenly you were sitting up. You had fallen asleep at your desk, arms folded under your head while finishing up some extra paperwork and….

And the whole thing had been a dream. A dream that you had at your desk, surrounded by a castle of vampires with enhanced senses. Vampires who could hear your every breath, your every heartbeat. They could smell the blood flowing within your veins and- Oh, god. Their sense of smell. The sudden reminder had you clenching your thighs together, a fool's attempt at hiding the arousal you knew was drenching your panties. You hoped you hadn’t said his name or, even worse, made any sounds.

Demetri cleared his throat, and you looked up slowly slightly terrified to make eye contact. Standing on the other side of your desk was Demetri, you’d been expecting that, but beside him was a grinning Felix.

As you looked at the two of them, Felix’s grin slowly widened and he spoke in a teasing manner.

“Sweet dreams?”

If only you had a better poker face.

There might have been a possibility of denial if you hadn’t immediately flushed at the question.

[escherstrange-ffxiv]

#5: Stamp

"The Hingans call it a hanko. You know how their names aren't written in Common? That makes it hard to sign their names so they carve it onto a little wooden block and use that as their signature."

Escher sidled up to the skeptical Lalafell, his thumbs and index fingers framing the room in front of them. "Picture this: no more hand cramps. You need to authorize someone to enter Labyrinthos? Boom, stamp. Issuing a document of entry to a visitor? Boom, stamp. I guaran-damn-tee you that you will save up to an hour of your life a day."

"We already have stamps of authority-"

"-But you still have to sign around it somewhere. What I am describing here is literally an inked stamp of my signature." He mimed his signature in the air. "Prof. Escherichia Coli, Studium Faculty of Magic. A signature and two tiny lines, that's all I'm asking for."

"That's a wax seal. You just described a wax seal."

"A wax seal is for filthy rich nobles; I am neither filthy, nor rich, nor noble." Despite building a massive space-faring rocket, Sharlayans were big sticks in the mud when it came to modernizing the little things in life. "Like the Hingans, this will be the common man's seal."

"What happens if someone steals your stamp? They could steal your identity with it!"

"Olin, this is for science. We are Sharlayans and it is our way of life to offer ourselves first and foremost in the name of progress. That is what I am doing right now, and when this catches on, you will look back and wonder how did we ever live with cramped hands." Escher paused briefly before adding, "I will be paying for your time and craftsmanship, just so you know."

The stamp-maker twiddled his mustache, squinting at Escher before grunting, "Fine. Come back in a sennight."

"A sennight?! The Hingans can get it done in half a day-"

"So go to Kugane and get it done in half a day, then, though I suspect the time and gil isn't worth the effort, eh?" Twelve damn the genius who made all Lalafell the same. "Look, it's an easy job but I've got a list of stamps to make that are higher priority for now. Unless the Forum decides that your experimental stamp can be bumped up the list, one week is the soonest I can get to it."

"Fine. I'll see you in a week." Escher sighed as loud as the gil clinking on the desk. On the way back to the Studium his thumb pressed on the palm of his right hand, massaging his hand from fingers to wrist.

He thought of the mountain of paperwork that awaited him and his heart weighed a ponze heavier that day.

[itspileofgoodthings]

I mean I’m obsessed with crash landing on you because it’s like if a hallmark movie was good and that is fascinating to my brain and healing to my heart.