#this is why i only have a handful of tattoos

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Hi! Can you please write about Ellie getting head for the first time <3

warnings: oral sex, sub!ellie omg this is a rare occasion for me, porn with little plot

She didn’t know why you liked her so much, but Ellie didn’t complain. Not one bit.

You invited her over for the usual–a sleepover with yellow, buttered popcorn and a movie. The past few times she had stayed over, she tried not to even admit it within the depths of her brain. You made her weak, like a beggar that couldn’t be satiated. You were the one thing that made her lose focus from even Star Trek, and that was unnatural. It wasn’t unwelcome by any means, but it was definitely not convenient for Ellie.

She couldn’t understand why you chose her of all people. She reasoned with herself that you didn’t technically choose her for anything. You two were just friends, and the flirting you threw upon the nerve-wracked girl was only the words that girls can exchange without having to be romantically involved. Right? Probably not.

The past few times, you only let your touch linger in small lengths. Your hand crept upon her arm, fingernail brushing against her tattoo. You made her breath shorten in a way that she wanted to be annoyed about. Each night was torture, and yet she found herself back on your couch, stuffing her mouth with microwaved Orville as you simply squeezed her hand with your own. The act itself was innocent, sweet. Ellie guessed that you got bored, because soon you were kneeling between her for the first time, and your lips were brushing against her jeans. 

“How far are you gonna take this?” Her voice carried a blend of nerves and need. There was always a thickness to her voice, something that sounded so uniquely like your Ellie that gave your pussy a heartbeat. 

Mouth moving to kiss her clothed hip and a soft mumble, “I’ll eat this pussy if you’ll let me.”

Fuck, Ellie had never heard such filthy words come out of that pretty mouth of yours. Not anywhere but her wet dreams, at least. She tried to adjust her hips and keep herself together, but you were faster. Your hands were on her thighs, fingers spread out. She groaned and let her head fall back on the couch. 

“Do whatever you want.”

You surely didn’t waste time once given the go-ahead. 

Ellie’s bush was a pretty sight. Her clit was already swollen, and her pussy glistened with the light of the tv screen and her juices coating her folds. You were between her eagerly opened legs, but it was staring at you, begging to be devoured. You offered kisses across her thighs to be polite, but you were quite impatient. Soon, your mouth was all over her like the first round of Thanksgiving dinner.

Ellie was losing her shit above you with each smacking sound your mouth left on her pussy; your tongue lavished over her bead and the pressure inside her was building, making it all nearly unbearable. She was like a pretty painting, legs shaking like jelly as she bit her lip to keep her mind functioning. It was so hard not to completely go insane and let herself just beg you to fuck her all night, though. She had a feeling that you would be.

You let her use your face without complaints, taking each sloppy buck of her hips with ease. Ellie could only fall apart when she peeked down. She could see the way you relentlessly worked her, and could only envy the fact that you didn’t look that phased by it. Lick after lick, pressing more pressure onto her before she finally couldn’t take it.

“I think I’m gonna cum-” she cut herself off with a moan and didn’t try to continue, not trusting herself to speak again without whining some incoherent, needy chants. 

You nodded. 

How were you so chill about this? She couldn’t take it anymore, and soon she was tugging your hair and coating your face with her cum. 

You made her feel dizzy in a way no previous, self-given orgasm could make her. It was like a sharp hit to her clit that pulsated throughout her entire body, reaching her brain until it faded into waves of pure bliss. Her hips lazily lifted themselves up and down, and you tongue-fucked her through her orgasm. 

It felt like a complete blackout, but when she finally felt like herself again, she glanced down to see your cheek resting on her stomach. You were like a vision from above, sculpted out to look just like this: features all in purpose, and your hair messy from her fingers grasping it. 

All too soon, you were sitting yourself down onto her lap, cupping her face and smothering her freckled cheeks in pecks. The way you only gave her sweet kisses made her head spin with the contrast of your tongue peeking into her hole just a few moments ago. 

“Wanna watch Jersey Shore?” 

You confused the hell out of Ellie sometimes, and she hated reality tv. But.. you did just fuck her brains out. Jersey Shore it was.

a/n: guys guys i'm working on fics i'm in a bit of a smut rut so idk if this is any good but i had to write SMTH

[kkdoesstuff]

*giggles excitedly and kicks my little feet* guess who's about to get into BLOODY, SLUTTY, AND PATHETIC by WhatMurdah?

ME, bitch 🥰🥰🥰

it was published over about 5 months in 2024 (so it's complete obvs, i don't read WIPs sorry not sorry), is 21 chapters, and just over 195K words! so a nice sized fic that i'm about to devour like a starving man, tysm.

i am and have truly been looking forward to this fic ever since someone on reddit said they have never seen draco simp and pine and be stupid for hermione harder than he ever has in this fic. i think they said she slaps him in public and then he is just like, "omg she fucking touched me!!!!!!!! *nuts*" like... LMAO yes bitch. yes pls! and then that possessive draco tag is staring at me like 👀😈 and i'm staring back like 👁👄👁💖

this will be my FIRST EVER marriage law fic and i am so happy that it is this one. i can't wait to see what happenssssss. i have tried to avert my eyes from the hype, summaries, think pieces and such because i'm not trying to set myself up or know too much or be disappointed or go off anyone else's interpretation, i just want to let the fic take me where it's gonna take me!!!! i want to scream, cry, giggle, pine, laugh, throw up, feel the feels, etc. my body is ready!!! *rubs hands together vigorously*

summary:

“In my humble opinion there’s only three things that men should be and that is bloody, slutty, and pathetic.” And, on a good day, Draco Malfoy can be all three. When war heroine Hermione Granger and Azkaban-tattooed war criminal Draco Malfoy are forced to wed as part of Shacklebolt’s controversial Reconciliation Act, they openly fight the match and each other—their public brawls breathlessly reported by the press. Secretly, a deeply traumatized Draco delights in Hermione’s attention and pines for a real marriage with her—even as her forced proximity to the Black family magic irritates the cursed scar Bellatrix left on her arm, reminding her why she can never truly trust or forgive him. Then Hermione discovers that Draco’s blood will soothe the scar . . . and Draco is willing to trade his blood for her body. (With post-war blood purity politics, black market potioneers, Pansy Parkinson’s career advice, the Malfoys blackmailing Hermione’s Wizengamot opposition, BDE Neville Longbottom hunting Death Eaters, a slutty Theo Nott serving as Draco’s right-hand man, and Crookshanks loose in Malfoy Manor.)

tags: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Marriage law, Forced Marriage, Post-War, Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pining/Possessive Draco Malfoy, Morally Grey Hermione Granger; rating: EXPLICIT

very interested by the pairings outside of D/Hr which are Pansy/Neville, and Theo/Everyone lmfao we LOVE a slutty theo, we truly do. i can't wait to see the friendship between him and draco in this one!!! i love their friendship so so so soooo much. (sidenote, i might have to read some theo/harry fics soon enough but that's neither here nor there) ANYWAYS apparently neville has big dick energies in BSP so i'm ready for that. crookshanks is innis bitch where he BELONGS, i love me some crookshanks i truly do.

anything else...? nope i don't think so LET'S MF GOOOO

[blorbocedes]

Hiii - for the fic prompts:

girlcedes - 7. Trapped in a room/closet/elevator

Lewis is glaring at Nico like she orchestrated this.

"I have places to be too." Nico says out loud, in her general direction. They're standing as far you can socially distance on an elevator. An elevator that the intercom buzzed in and reported would take fifteen minutes to send in the guys to fix. That was twenty minutes ago. Such glitz and glamour to live in Monaco.

"Not you. Claustrophobia." Lewis grits her teeth. She's sitting in a corner, squatting in her Dior running shoes. Probably showing off her knees can still take it.

Nico's leaning by the glass mirror because she's wearing a white pantsuit.

Oh right. Claustrophobia. Nico always forgets because it's always funny, the cars they drive in is more cramped than the spacious elevator. But it's about control, she gets that. Lewis in a Formula 1 car is just an extension of her body. But Lewis would always keep the door of the drivers room open, back in Mercedes.

"How are you scared of this and not jumping off a plane? It should be child's cake to you. Hm, that's not right. Child's play?" Nico frowns trying to locate the metaphor in the medley of languages in her brain. She speaks mostly to keep Lewis distracted. Nico herself is not, her positive outlook mantras covered this. Negative thoughts cannot happen if you don't let it. That's why she never checked her portfolio after the AI company she invested in rugpulled millions. It simply does not exist if she doesn't give it the power to.

"Skydiving is incredibly safe," Lewis bites the bait, "It's safer than scuba diving. And you're in control the whole time."

"All it takes is one parachute not opening." Nico shrugs. Even the thought makes her shudder. Absolutely not.

"Good thing they strap you with two then." Lewis drawls. She doesn't say it, too graceful these days, but the idiot is implied.

Nico rolls her eyes but is beaten in the marketplace of ideas.

She turns to the mirror, her shoulder length blonde hair bouncing. There's a pimple cropping up under her chin, she can feel it. She presses down on it, warning it to stay there.

"Don't do that - you look fine." Lewis is frowning, looking up at Nico from where she's crouched.

Nico used to obsessively poke and prod at her face staring at the mirror as a teenager. She's a little embarrassed Lewis remembers from their days of sharing rooms during karting.

"It's the only mirror time I get. Vivi and I are very mindful of not passing any body insecurities to the girls. Entering the pre-teens is a very impressionable time." Nico explains. She doesn't need her daughters rubbing off on her complexes.

Lewis gets up, lithe like a cat, in her oversized crewneck. She looks pointedly at the lack of ring on Nico's hand. "How's the divorce going?"

Nico purses her lips. "Conscious uncoupling. Very well, thank you. How's Ferrari?" She switches the subject. "Learn any Italian yet?"

"I've downloaded Duolingo." Lewis smiles, sheepishly, the gap in her teeth is still charming even after all these years.

"I remember teaching you some." In bed, tangled up in each other, another lifetime ago.

"I'm sure none of that was usable, man."

"Hm. You should try ti va di fare dolce su e giù?" Nico smirks.

"What does it mean?" Lewis asks.

Nico just smiles in that way when she knows something Lewis doesn't. "I'm sure Leclerc will be down. Happy to... accommodate." The double entendre in her voice gives it away.

Lewis takes a step closer, her hand on the railing where Nico is standing. And suddenly, the elevator feels like a much smaller space, with nowhere to hide. She shakes her head, the rings on her tattooed hands glittering. Nico feels strangely naked without hers. "He's not my type."

Nico leans forward. "And who is?"

The elevator doors ding open. They are on Lewis' floor.

[thesunloveschips]

Obsessed - Part 10 - Epilogue (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: A decade, a wedding, and two kids later, Azriel is still obsessed.

Warnings: Fluff.

Word count: 1.4k

Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)

****

A decade later

“This spot, right here, was where I spoke to your mama for the first time.” Azriel declared after stopping at some random part of the airport with their twins in his arms. 

What? 

“Ohh.” The children cooed with far too much energy for early morning travel. Their father seemed rather proud of their reaction. 

Y/n suspected something was off when her husband proposed a trip the week before to the country where she’d studied for her exchange program but what the actual fuck was this?

All of it started when their kids asked him about how he’d met their mother. 

As a matter of fact, she really did not remember why she agreed to this trip but Azriel had somehow seduced her into saying yes and the next thing she knew, the family had reached the airport.

Y/n remained somewhere between embarrassment and mortification as he continued to narrate to his children the story of how hopelessly he’d fallen in love with their mother while skipping the inappropriate parts of his thoughts. 

She sighed.

Maybe, she could take a breather and visit the university, meet her professors and a few friends. 

She followed Azriel into a restaurant where as soon as they entered, a few men stood up from a table and made way for the family to sit. 

“This is where I had my first meal with your mama. I was sitting on this very chair and for some reason, your mama is not sitting on the same chair she was all those years ago.” And she simply smiled before deciding their food because her family were engrossed in their own world to read the menu.

All those years ago, huh? 

Time had flown by so soon and somehow so slowly. 

And a thirty-nine year old Azriel certainly looked fine. So damn fine carrying the kids with the sleeves of his black shirt folded up to the forearms and revealing his tattoos. Y/n was half tempted to drag him to the nearest restroom and kneel for him. 

The meal was a light one. She watched them quietly while Azriel narrated the legendary romance of their mama and papa to their children. 

“Mama.” The little boy, Aether, called. “When did you fall in love with papa?”

“In an apartment.” She smiled at the memories from their apartments and let them take her back in time.

When Azriel confessed how he’d arranged for them to meet by finding out her travel information, she was simply surprised. 

But then he revealed how he’d bought an entire building and arranged for them to be neighbours just so he could have an excuse to see her and talk to her. 

Her husband smiled knowingly at her as he continued to coddle and feed their children. 

And then came the time to board the flight. 

Outside the aircraft, Azriel stood with their kids as he commanded their attention. “Now, this is the plane in which I sat next to your mama for the first time. It was our first time travelling together.”

Y/n sighed. Who gave this man so much money anyway? Because he’d tracked down that particular aircraft and bought it ten years ago. It had been revamped into a private jet for the family. 

They boarded the plane and Y/n had absolutely nothing to do. The only thing she had to do was order food for them all at that restaurant earlier. Azriel had taken care of everything else. 

The plane was divided into three parts; the cockpit for the pilots, the area for the cabin crew and the bodyguards, and the area for the family, with the latter separated by doors. 

Their baby girl, Nora, was now yawning. Soon enough, Aether yawned and Y/n led them to the large bed where she tucked them and closed the window. Once they’d fallen asleep, she returned to her husband and settled on his lap. 

“Sleep, Y/n.” His hand cradled her body gently and firmly. And as she drifted away to sleep, she recalled how life had continued after their reconciliation.

It was a mess and they wanted it. They wanted to navigate it. She'd taken her time to confess her feelings about her past and so had he. And for the first time, they were raw and broken in each other's arms.

She snuggled against him, inhaling his scent. This was her husband. The father of her children. A man so devoted to her and intent on treating her right and she wondered if she was ever doing enough for him.

And just when she thought she could cry from it all, her husband pressed a kiss to her forehead and began humming a tune.

**** 

Azriel was a composed person. Always taking time to enjoy everything. Never in a hurry because he always planned everything like that. 

He’d taken Y/n out on dates where they could simply enjoy the food and the place without having to rush anything at all. 

When they were married, he was over the moon. Obviously.

The billion-dollar empire did not run on its own but he was far too eager to go home to Y/n.

After a long period of an obsession bordering on unhealthy, she was finally his wife. And they had two children. Aether had his black curly hair and smile while Nora had his eyes but the rest of them were all his sweet wife. 

Wife. 

Azriel looked at the building as the car neared it. When it stopped, he gently woke up his wife and the family was in the apartment she lived in. 

“This was mama’s apartment.”

“What’s an apartment?” Azriel proceeded to explain the word by giving the twins a tour of the place. 

****

Dinner was yet another affair as Azriel took it upon himself to tour the city, taking them to every single place they’d ever been to. “This is where we did our grocery shopping.”

“So this is how I can get a girlfriend.” The little boy mused. 

“Maybe.” The father grinned. Their son mirrored his expression and their daughter was now curious. 

“Mama.” Nora looked up at Y/n. “If I want to marry someone, will I have to wait for a boy to do all this for me?”

Azriel froze. 

His little girl? 

Marrying? 

Marrying?

What a horrifying thought. 

He immediately took out his phone and texted his assistant to increase the security around his daughter lest some random lizard abduct her from him. 

“Well. .” Y/n began. “Maybe you’ll meet someone who does something else but which would make you feel special.” My god, what was his wife saying? There was no need for their daughter to meet anyone like that. 

“But papa makes me feel special. So why would I meet someone else?” Bless his daughter, such a lovely soul. 

“Of course, my little sweet.” Yes. Papa was all that his little girl needed. There was no need for any snakes to slither into her life. 

****

A few weeks later

It was a normal day and a normal lunch. Azriel and Y/n held a child each and walked over to the table where Nesta was waiting with Cassian. 

A few years ago, when the ladies had discovered that their partners were old childhood friends, it was decided that there was no reason why they couldn’t dine together every now and then. 

Nesta and Cassian had recently gotten married in a hurry. One random morning, Y/n had been video called to be told that they were going somewhere and the courthouse was on the way, so they decided to marry. Needless to say, Y/n screamed at her friend before congratulating her. 

Conversation floated around the table. The children were coddled. Food was passed around and laughter erupted. 

“Cassian!” A voice yelled. 

The man looked up to see another one of his friends and smiled broadly. He raised a hand in greeting. “Rhys!”

Nesta looked up and saw her brother-in-law holding her nephew, Nyx’s hand while Feyre was busy looking at the pastries a few steps away from them. Once Rhys walked over to his wife and she’d also seen them, it was automatically decided that they’d be dining together. 

More seats were added and adults were catching up. Meanwhile, the twins looked at Nyx in fascination primarily because they’d never seen him before. 

Nyx, only a few months older than them at the age of six, reached out for Nora’s cheek. Once he’d ascertained that it was soft, he pulled it hard. 

The girl squealed in pain, tears brimming her eyes. She immediately turned to her brother who was already glaring at the boy. 

Y/n came and began pacifying her daughter while her son stayed close but Azriel was struck at the horror of the situation. 

“Keep your son a mile away from my daughter.” And thus began, Azriel’s paranoia that the reptile who’d steal his precious daughter would be none other than Nyx.

****

Author's Note: Thank you for accompanying me on this journey. Writing Obsessed has been a wonderful experience.

Thank you @findingstephanie @div94 for helping me. They were my beta readers for Obsessed and have helped me immensely.

I hope all of us meet people who will not only be obsessed with us but also be obsessed with treating us right.

P.S. I might write an Azriel x Reader/OC x Eris fic soon.

****

Taglist:

@fantanbietsson @angstylittleb1tch @fhgsvbnh @olive-main @cherryjain17 @halo-mystic @starofanotherworld @latinxbipride @viatorem-maris @acotarbestie @sevikas-whore @anthonys-viscountess @randomgurl2326 @thelov3lybookworm @cat-or-kitten @mortqlprojections @tele86 @rorel1a @red0202 @atomictyphoonkitten @colorfulgardenerduck @scarsandallaz @anonymousdisco @rcarbo1 @workof-a-rr-t @fuckingsimp4azriel @isabella13dusk @donnadiddadog @yannnnooooxoxox-blog @nxgh1 @thedeviltohisangel @katherinebright @fandomtrash5092 @epicsweetness712 @anik-4 @hitsxbikbv @julesvanslutta @fae-dreamer-99 @cartonkid1200 @anainkandpaper @yourwonderbelle @stefbroo @imjustagirl713 @bbykaixx @lilah-asteria @mellowmusings

[opheliachoi99]

Ocean Eyes ♡̷

MICHAEL KAISER X READER

ABOUT : A short scenery where you appreciate his beautiful ocean eyes, from lifeless, to full of life inside his ocean eyes.

note : this is a short one because I just wanna appreciate my love for Kaiser. Enjoy!

— You were only an elementary student during the time and you noticed the transferee in your class keeps on hugging his old, scratched, taped soccer ball, while curling in his desk, wearing a black hoodie almost everyday. You could barely see his full face.

When someone touches his soccer ball he immediately smacks the shit out of them, it's as if that ball was his lifeline.

You noticed his fists were filled with bandages, you felt worried. But there was nothing you could do, you were too afraid to approach him, he seemed scary-looking in your perspective.

A few days passed, and you noticed he hasn't came to class. You checked the attendance sheet and his present days were a total blank. You bit your lower lip, curious of what had happened to him.

You were walking home when you noticed a kid underneath the big bridge near you, trying to kick a familiar ball that bounces back to him in the face. You found it funny where he repeatedly kicked the soccer ball towards the wall and bounces back towards his face, causing him to groan in pain, but continuously repeats the same actions.

You approached this kid and you gasped as you were familiar with him "It's you! Transferee!" This kid turns to you "Huh?"

You gasped again when you saw bruises and scratches on his face. "W-what happened to your face?" You innocently asked.

"It's none of your business." He coldly replied. You were a stubborn one so you approached him grabbing your band-aid collection in your bag "Let me put these!"

"H-hey!" He could barely move as if he was traumatised when someone forcefully touches him. You removed his hood and you paused.

You stared into his lifeless eyes, but you adored how beautiful his eyes were. Those beautiful ocean eyes. You were mesmerized, your touch softens. You two were stuck in the same position, he was looking helpless so he gave up defending himself. "You're strong.."

"Y-you have beautiful eyes.." You stutter as you placed band-aid on his face one-by-one.

Soon after, you two started talking casually "Thank you.." "Does it still hurt?" He shook his head. "Not quite anymore.." You smiled "You know me right? I'm your classmate! You couldn't notice me because I was always in the back doing some doodles.." You pouted "I know you, but you don't know me.. I'm Michael, Michael Kaiser.."

You smiled "Michael... Can I call you micha?" He stared at you for a second "Sounds weird but okay.." You jumped for joy "You're my friend now! Come to school tomorrow okay? You've been absent for days now." You pouted. "I got to go, my mom might be looking for me by now, you should go home too!" You waved goodbye, leaving Kaiser fascinated about you.

Ever since then, you and him were inseparable. You knew he was abused by his father ever since his mom left them, and you knew why he had a soccer ball with him everyday, it was his only friend. His dream was to be a striker, so you were more interested in him and supported his goals all the way.

9 years passed since you two became the closest, but a year ago, he confessed. In which you and Kaiser are now a thing.

You realised, that Kaiser was a good-looking guy, ever since he dyed his hair tips metallic blue, and had a blue rose tattoo on his neck, and rose thorns all the way to his biceps and to his wrist, and a crown on his back hand.

Gosh he was divine..

It was his game today, which is a huge one, because if he wins they would be competing for FIFA, and one step closer, his dreams would come true.

And of course you were there, because without you, he wouldn't be motivated at all.

And obviously they won, leaving you so happy that you had to jump out from your seat, and the first thing Kaiser did was to run towards you. Everyone saw and it was viral online and it was on the news too! Everyone seemed to notice you were the girlfriend of their star player since he approached you and you were wearing his jersey "KAISER, 10"

As he was hugging you, you felt warmth "I'm so proud of you my micha.." You glanced in his ocean eyes.. "You're so beautiful schatz.. I love you.." He kissed you passionately, everyone in the stadium cheered.

His eyes from being lifeless, to being so fulfilling, because you loved him. All because you were drawn to his ocean eyes.

Fin.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 32

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Character List

Authors Note: There are a couple of time skips in the one... and it's a short one. I'm sorry this took so long. I'm not really feeling this story anymore but, I still want to have it completed. The next chapter picks right up after Chapter 31... Enjoy 💙

August 23rd 2021

Christopher hated Pensacola… Mainly because Airielle was in this stupid ass city right under his nose. He frowned as he looked at the apartment building before him, it was… nice but it wasn’t as nice as the townhouse he had brought her, the one she had left behind.

He took a deep breath before entering the lobby and making his way up the stairs to her floor. The frown was still on his face as he thought about how easy it was to gain access to her. 

“Still fucking stupid” He muttered as he picked the lock and no alarm sounded as he made his way in. He set the bouquet of pink roses and white lilies down on the counter as he moved through the space, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. She was still a neat freak, nothing was out of place. He made his way through the apartment making a mental note of where everything was… just in case. 

He let out a soft chuckle as he made his way into her room, it was a carbon copy of the one back at their townhouse. He made his way over to her dresser and opened the jewelry box she had on there. He frowned as he saw her engagement ring was not in there. Taking a deep breath as he closed the lid of the jewelry box.

He eyed the dresser drawers. He opened the top one and let out a frown at what he saw. With a look mixed with disgust and fury, he angrily reached into the drawer and pulled out a pair of freshly washed boxer briefs. Christopher knew who they belonged to, that tattooed, freak that she was currently on vacation with. He clenched his jaw as he tried to keep his anger in check but as he stared down at the underwear in his hands, all he saw was red. Christopher blacked out and destroyed Airielle’s apartment. 

When he came to, he found himself standing amid utter chaos. The once pristine apartment was now a war zone. Shattered glass crunched beneath his feet as he surveyed the damage, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The dresser lay on its side, drawers spilled across the floor. Clothes were strewn everywhere, some torn to shreds.

He calmly made his way into the living room and looked at the damage he had done there in his rage.  The coffee table was overturned, and books and magazines were scattered. The TV screen was smashed, a fist-sized hole in its center. He walked over to the flowers he left on the counter and walked back into her bedroom, scattering them all over her bed. He pulled the note out of his pocket and left it on her pillow.  With one last look, he left the apartment altogether, locking and shutting the door behind him. 

September 2nd 2021

Janelle Roy stared at her mother as she watched her sister and that man leave the Waffle House. “Mom?” Janelle called out. “What do you mean that’s your daughter? I thought you said we only had brothers.” 

Abigail ignored her youngest daughter and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She hurriedly sent the text and put her phone away.  “Mom!” Janelle called out again, growing agitated with Abigail. “What is going on!” 

Abigail grabbed Janelle’s hand and pulled her outside the restaurant. Abigail let out a curse as she saw the Ford peel out of the parking lot. “Listen.. I’ll tell you everything later, just let me –” 

“No!” Janelle cut her mother off. “Tell me now! Why have you never mentioned this other child? You told us about Isaiah and Josiah… why never her?” 

“Cause I hate her!” Abigal exploded and Janelle’s eyes widened. “That girl has caused me nothing but pain and misery since I found out I was pregnant with her!” Janelle stood there in shock listening to her mom talk about her sister. The sister she never knew she had. As Abigail sat there spewing hateful shit about Airielle, Janelle felt herself grow disgusted with her mother, If she could say these things about Airielle, then Abigail could most definitely say the same thing about her. 

“That’s your daughter!” Janelle cut her mother off. “How could you say that about her?” 

Abigail started shaking her head. “No sweetie, you don’t understand. I’m not the problem she is and by the end of this month she will be dealt with.” 

Janelle stared at her with pure disgust. She took a step back from her mother. “I can’t even look at you right now.” She muttered, pulling her phone out of her pocket and opening the Uber app. She was thanking her lucky stars that she had the address to the hotel.  “Have you been taking your medication?” Janelle asked after she put her phone away, eyeing her mother. 

Abigail scoffed. “I don’t have to tell you anything, Janelle. You’re my daughter. And you will help me take down your sister.” 

“Take her down... Do you hear yourself right now?! I know you haven’t been taking your medication I’m calling Dad.” 

Abigail snapped and reached for Janelle’s phone, snatching it out of her hand and tossing it into her purse. “You ain't calling nobody!” she yelled, and Janelle took a step back from her mother. For the first time in 25 years, she was afraid of her mom. Janelle watched as Abigail put her phone to her ear and started talking in a low tone. Janelle knew she had to find a way to contact Airielle and warn her about their mother. 

September, 2019

“I’m sorry for your loss.” The doctor told Airielle softly before turning on his heels and walking out of the room. Airielle shakily placed both hands over her stomach. Three months… she had been three months pregnant and she lost it. 

She didn’t know why she was so upset, she didn’t even know she was pregnant. She hadn’t been prepared for this moment. She hadn’t been expecting a child. She hadn’t had time to feel the joy or the excitement or the fear that so many women spoke about when they learned they were pregnant.

“Solèy” Her dad whispered, his voice sounded just about as broken as she felt.  “Why didn’t you come to me and your mom? Why..” Issac paused as he tried to gather his emotions but looking at his babygirl in a hospital bed, her face all brused and swollen made him sick to his stomach. 

“I’m sorry.” Airielle cried. She was sorry for a multitude of things, sorry for not telling her parents what Christopher was doing, sorry for being so weak for not fighting back and sorry that she lost her child. 

“Airielle, you have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Issac said, his voice firm despite the tears welling in his eyes. He moved closer to the bed, gently taking his daughter's hand in his own. "This isn't your fault. You are not to blame. It him. You’re gonna press charges right.” 

Airielle froze. She was scared. Christopher was going to do worse once he found out she went to the police. 

“Dad I-” 

“Airielle. You’re not going back there. When you get discharged you’re coming to Pensacola. I be dammed if I let you go back.”  Issac gripped Airelle’s hand in a comforting manner. “You’re not alone in this Solèy, I will be there with you every step of the way.  I won’t let him hurt you again. Not ever.” 

“I don’t want to go back to him, Dad,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t want to go back to any of it.”

Her father’s hand, still warm and steady in hers, gave a gentle squeeze. “You won’t. We’ll make sure of it.”

Authors Note: Christopher is BANANAS! Abigail is BANANAS! Airielle needs to keep her head on a swivel when it comes to those two.

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[strawberrystepmom]

re: cancer men - the creators and dreamweavers of the zodiac:

okay hi hello. i was reading and am perpetually reading anthony bourdain's books and felt inspired to kind of break down at least astrologically the mystique of the cancer man. this is not a defensive essay but rather a piece that can offer a (hopeful) shift in perspective with regards to how we view these people in our world and our lives.

so the cancer man often has mommy issues. i hope you heard me sigh very loudly saying that because i hate using catch all terms for things that require nuance but it's a concept we are all familiar with based on term alone so it's what i'll use. my rebuttal to this is also - who doesn't? in some capacity? then i remember i'm a water sign and my mom was a cancer and i need to keep this moving on...

mommy issues aren't an indictment, they're most often just an indicator of areas where a person needs more support. perhaps they're a little scatter brained and need a partner who wants to help them get organized. perhaps they're a little emotional and have been told such their entire life to the point they're no longer wanting to be emotional so they need a partner who is willing to be a bending ear.

these areas of emotional need can lead to cancer men specifically tending to really need a lot of strong reinforcement from the women in their lives if they're unwilling to look inward and re-mother themselves so to speak. they can lean on their partners a lot because it's hard to talk about the deep feelings they have. when you agree to love a partner who shows you they need this support, you guys are gonna get mad at me for saying it, but it needs to be provided in a healthy and functional way. if you cannot provide that support do not take up with a man who already has inherent emotional distress just bc he dared to be born under a water sun.

that being said - i implore you, cancer man who may be reading this, to become your gentle inner voice. to reassure yourself that you're doing a good job and that you haven't done wrong. a cancer's fears can seem almost childlike to the uninitiated (do i know what i'm doing? is this going to last forever? what if they change their mind? what if? why? who? when?) but my rebuttal to that is also - all of our own inner monologues are our child selves or someone who hurt our child self. reserve judgement about the maturity of other's emotional processes.

cancers (all genders/identities) instinctively use their protective shell to get them through life. they are symbolized by the crab after all, so they sometimes assume costumes both literal and metaphorical.

in men these may be different personalities - you'll find the doer who shows up to your house with boxes and helping hands when you tell him you're moving, the quiet stoic lover who meets your needs in the most unassuming of ways, the man who is using macho as a defense mechanism who peacocks around and uses emotions as a weapon and finally, the man who is using his own machismo as a charming safe haven for others with hands that only wish to caress and heal (my favorite).

i mean god, a lot of cancer men either lean into the super affable cute sweet guy in hoodies and jeans while absolutely blasting the most insane screamo music in those headphones or they are tattooed, love to look alt because it hides that their top artist for this year was mitski just to give you an idea of the physical identities they may assume.

cancer men crave intimacy. their deep desire for enduring love, family, a place to call home no matter how transient everything else in their lives may feel isn't incidental, it's their birthday candle blow and falling star wish every time they see one.

they just have a tendency to rebuild their shells if they have broken through and start to feel unsafe with someone. they can become combative. the "yeah and what about you?" starts at that point and things can start to break down if you aren't willing to look deeper and realize he's hurting and that's why he's lashing out. it isn't okay, it isn't right, but it's the way cancers (and tbh all water signs why else do we have terror reputations) behave when they are retreating.

cancer men are gifted at making their loved ones dreams come true because almost always, they're making theirs come true as well through the process. they're life builders. commit to him and don't question him and he will give you everything you could ever want if he's done his inner work and he's ready to do so. let him build you the fantasy. embrace a man that loves you so much he wants to give you a babylonian garden of your own.

that being said, it's not your responsibility as someone who loves him to get him to that point so proceed as you wish but be aware that if you give up, you won't get the opportunity to come back once he's all fixed. don't cross a cancer - they're twice as vengeful as a scorpio with a virgo's very, very long memory and you will live your entire life being reminded that you didn't love them when they needed to be loved the most regardless of how true it may or not be. cancers deal in facts and feelings both and oftentimes their feelings are where the facts come from and experiences may vary.

but anyway yeah

[elliesgff]

Nerd Ellie being fucking clueless Guys pls be nice this is my firs post (and it's not proofread btw)

She was so distracted, living in her own world where apparently no one else could enter. She spent her free hours drawing in an old brown leather diary that looked worn, but you assumed it held some sentimental value for her. She was strange, a loser like those who appeared in the films you used to watch, a nerd whom no one looked at, but she intrigued you, you wanted to see the true colour of her eyes, how she would look without those glasses. You were also a bit curious about the story behind the tattoo on her arm—did she think it made her look tough?

She shot her diary abruptly before looking up, you two were the only ones in the university courtyard and there was plenty of space to sit, so why near her?

“What are you drawing?” you asked. She raised an eyebrow momentarily before reopening her diary, avoiding your gaze and continuing with what she was doing—drawing and ignoring your presence. You could see she was sketching some strange looking insect, but she made it look beautiful.

"A panda ant," she murmured boredly. You sat beside her and took a closer look at the drawing, the large, black eyes of the creature you'd never heard of.

"It looks like a spider."

"It's a wasp," she emphasised, shaking her head slightly and continuing with her work. You mumbled a small "right" while nodding awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

"What else have you drawn?" you asked curiously. Ellie didn't need to be too clever to know you wouldn't let her finish her drawing; she'd seen you – you talked too much, you never shut up – so she decided to give in and handed you her diary, beginning a friendship she wasn't sure she wanted in the first place.

After that, you never left her alone, you used to drag her to parties she hated, and in return, she made you study for your exams and talked to you for hours about space stuff. It was fun, like when she tried to explain how a spaceship worked and you pretended not to understand just to keep listening to her. Her intelligence was her greatest appeal, and you wondered how she didn’t have the entire university chasing after her.

You were a little bit in love with her, but she acted as if you were a pain in her backside, so you discouraged yourself when you thought about telling her; it wouldn’t make any sense, you thought. However, the idea of not having her close to you at all times was horrible; her presence was addictive, and as a way to torture her, you would drag her out of her room tonight and take her to her least favourite place.

5:06pm. 

“Is Hallie’s tonight??” 

“No. I have to study.” 

“Please???? Just for a bit and we’ll leave, I swear.” 

“Liar.” 

You smiled as you read the message, you could almost hear her voice saying it; it was incredible how well she knew you in such a short time. You kept smiling like an idiot when your phone vibrated again in your lap. 

“Fine, but I’ll be late.” 

“Omg I love you, I knew you’d make the right decision, see you there xx.”

☆☆☆☆

The noise in the bar was deafening; there was a new band performing, and it was the only thing you could hear in the cramped space as you moved through the bustle of people searching for Ellie. You took out your phone to text her, but then you spotted her. You had to navigate through a sea of people before you could reach her, but at least she was in your line of sight. She looked bored. 

“Sorry I'm late.” 

“I was supposed to be late.” 

“I know, I'm sorry,” you murmured, moving closer to order a whisky from the bartender before turning back to her with the drink in hand. “There was a lot of traffic, and the taxi was going too slowly.” You leaned in too close for her to hear you, and her gaze instinctively dropped, her right hand nervously playing with her ring and little fingers as she nodded. 

“Fine” She replied flatly, and you rolled your eyes. You knew she hated accompanying you anywhere, but she didn’t have to make it so obvious.

“Come on, let’s dance.” You pulled her onto the dance floor amidst her protests, placing your hand on hers to guide her to your waist. She was clumsy, struggling to keep up with the rhythm, and laughed, shaking her head shyly when she realised she couldn’t.

“You always end up getting your way with me. I’ve got an exam tomorrow,” she protested in your ear, hands now gripping your waist firmly. You pulled closer, eager to take whatever she gave you, even if it wasn’t intentional.

“You need to relax. You’ve been so stressed this week, you shouldn’t even have classes on a Saturday,” you said over the music, your lips so close you could feel the warmth of her skin. You wanted to bite her earlobe, leave a mark to remind her of you, but you settled for having your arms wrapped around her neck.

“All this noise isn’t helping my stress,” she said, and you narrowed your eyes at her.

“I relieve your stress.” Her cheeks flushed crimson but she held your gaze, a burning intensity in your eyes, and it was in moments like these that she wasn’t sure what you meant, or if you meant it at all. She wanted to ask how, to say something, but instead she did the same thing as always.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” She said before hurrying away to somewhere that didn’t smell of you, staring at herself in the mirror and feeling like an idiot for letting you get to her so quickly.

You sat waiting for her, praying no drunk would bother you as you sipped your whisky, watching the band play; the bassist kept glancing at a girl in the crowd, giving her a flirtatious wink and even you blushed.

A lot of time went on, and you started wondering what on earth Ellie was doing in the bathroom, so you went to look for her. To your surprise, she was with a girl from university near the dance floor, hands clasped as they tried to communicate.  She was Ellie's only friend besides you, and the lively way she was talking to this girl made you feel both guilty and angry. You always had to force her to make plans with you, and she treated you as if talking to you was a chore she wasn't looking forward to.

You desperately wanted to confront her, but what could you say?  All desire to be with her vanished, and without much thought, you left the crowded place, walking a couple of blocks until you found a taxi. The journey back to the halls felt endless, and all you could think about was how angry she would be, but honestly, you didn't care.

☆☆☆☆

"You left me." Ellie snapped as she made her way through your room, knowing about the key hidden in the flowerpot, and right now you wished you had taken it out of there. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I wanted to leave and I saw you with your friend, I didn't want to ruin the moment." You murmured half-heartedly, fiddling with your old tablet and not even glancing at her, which made her scoff slightly, looking at you in disbelief. 

"I was there for you and you left me." 

"And I'm telling you that you shouldn't do it anymore." 

She looked at you, confused, before rolling her eyes, snatching the tablet from your hands so that you would pay attention to her, but your gaze drifted elsewhere; you felt stupid, like a five-year-old. 

"You’re sick of me dragging you to places you don’t want to go, and I’m sick of feeling like I’m forcing you to interact with me." 

"Is this about Allison?" 

"No." 

"Oh my God, are you ten?" She spoke in frustration, raising her voice without realising, she was tired of having to explain herself to you, and for what? In the end, it was the same, being the same. Friends, less than that, she didn’t know. "I ran into her and wanted to say hello, we talked for less than ten minutes and you throw a tantrum over it, what the hell is wrong with you?"

“It’s not that, Ellie.” You said it as if it were obvious, and felt the heat rise to your cheeks, which only made you angrier, the words tumbling out rapidly, before you could think. “I always have to be chasing you, for everything – outings, even studying, which you know I hate, and-and you always act like I’m just another chore on your to-do list, but you were holding her hand and smiling at her—” You paused to take a breath, narrowing your eyes. “You know what? There’s no point telling you anything, it’s not going to get through that thick skull of yours.” And you were about to leave your room, just to escape the argument, but arms snaked around your waist, pulling you back inside, her hand finding its way up your back to tug at your hair, green eyes fixed on yours.

“What the hell do you want from me?” she murmured desperately before pressing her lips to yours, hands gripping your hips firmly, and you were in shock, kissing her back and moaning as her tongue pushed into your mouth, but still in shock.

You felt intoxicated without actually being so, everything spun each time you felt your bottom lip being tugged in a nibble; your arms wrapped around her neck and you pulled her closer, kissing her with a hunger you’d never felt for anyone. Finally…

“You always do this to me.” She continued, whispering close to your lips, gasping for air but unable to pull away.

Your heart raced, pulse thundering in your ears as you tried to make sense of her words, but she pulled you back into a kiss, not giving you time to process anything. You gladly kissed her back, but your hands grabbed her shoulders, pulling her down to her knees; she complied without protest, desperately lifting your dress and tugging at your underwear, burying her face between your thighs and moaning pathetically as she tasted you, her tongue moving languidly, lips closing around your clit, sucking gently and making you see stars. You brought your hand behind her head, tugging at her hair, pushing her deeper into the place she never wanted to leave.

You didn’t even try to stifle your moans as she worked her magic on you, pleasure sparking as the pressure in your belly tightened, but you didn’t want it to end like this.

“Come here, come.” You whimpered, pulling her once more by the collar of her shirt, devouring her lips as you both tried to reach the bed without falling. You straddled her, skilled hands unbuttoning her trousers and you slipped your hand inside, feeling the warmth of her skin, your gaze burning into hers as your fingers worked on her swollen clit, she spread her legs wider, looking at you with tired eyes, her arms wrapping around your waist.

"I need to fuck you." She whined breathlessly, as if the thought of not being able to do so pained her.

You fumbled for the bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling out a double-ended dildo that made her eyes widen, but her need overpowered her, and she snatched it from your hands, slowly inserting it inside herself, letting out a stuttered moan. You made her lie down, positioning yourself on top of her, and without thinking, you lowered your hips onto the toy. Ellie couldn't stop writhing, trying to please both you and herself, her hands urging you to ride her as if your life depended on it. You bounced on her lap with so roughly that the sound was obscene, but you loved it.

"I hate seeing you talk to other people." You spoke breathlessly, your hand tightening around her throat, but not enough to choke her.

"I'm yours." She breathed out, inhaling sharply, trying to get some air into her lungs. Her hips pushed against yours in an animalistic manner, her now darkened eyes staring intently at you, and her hoarse moans made you melt. You couldn't hold back any longer, and the pressure, the pool of heat in your belly burst, turning the bed into a mess. Ellie followed you, her climax just as intense as her need for you, her arms wrapping around your waist as she thrust her hips erratically until she calmed down, both of you gasping for air, bewildered by what had just happened.

To be honest, Ellie had imagined this scenario thousands of times, but… how would you look at each other after this?

[l1ve-l4ugh-lov3craft]

I Have More Rosekiller Fake Dating AU

a continuation of this drabble ( @dairekt-cat there's another)

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

They ended up agreeing to all meet at the venue separately and go over the “plan of attack,”  as Barty had very cleverly called it, before going in. Regulus was the only one there when Barty arrived, which served him just fine. He flashed him a grin and a couple finger guns for good measure as he sauntered over, which Regulus promptly rejected with a scowl.

“You can’t be acting like that while we’re in there,” he said the moment Barty was in earshot. So much for friendly greetings.

“‘Hi, Barty. How are you, Barty?” Barty replied loudly, “You look so hot and sexy in that suit, Barty. Did you steal your father’s credit card to buy it?’ Why yes, Reg, I did. Thanks for asking. How are y-”

“Yes, yes, okay I hear you.” Regulus elbowed him hard enough to make Barty stumble back a bit.

Barty was still snickering under his breath as he straightened and scanned their near surroundings. Lots of expensive looking people in expensive looking outfits with expensive looking expressions of passive tolerance slowly filing into the gala venue. No sign of Pandora Rosier or the asshole who insulted his tattoo work last week, which was all well and good as far as Barty was concerned. Might be nice to slip in, swipe some of the fancy booze, and then be able to just dip and leave Regulus to deal with the upper-class as he did best.

“Think your mum will be terribly pissed if you get stood up tonight?” He asked, eyes still flitting over the clusters of people still arriving.

Regulus crossed his arms, “I am not going to be stood up.” He said.

Barty felt his face pinch rather against his own will. It was - he looked at his watch - three minutes until seven. And neither of the Rosier twins were anywhere in sight. Not exactly standup odds, but who was he to deny Regulus his delusions?

“You keep telling yourself that, buddy. But if they don’t show, just know that I’m absolutely gonna-”

Barty needed to study the uncanny accuracy of that ‘speak of the devil and he shall appear’ saying. Because not two fucking seconds after the words came out of his moth, who should show up in all their pasty, bleach-blonde glory?

Alright, fine. That was a bit harsh. Pandora Rosier was, admittedly, a rather beautiful young woman. She held herself with confidence and grace, and she had a sort of perpetual soft smile on her face that made you think she knew something you didn’t at all times. She had on a lacy, sage green ball gown type dress that Barty felt like one wouldn’t typically see at 21st century events like this and he nodded appreciatively at her ability to not give a single fuck. Subtly of course. Heaven forbid he appear like he was having positive feelings about anything related to this situation.

And Evan was…Well, sue Barty but he was hot, okay?? In, like, an asshole type of way where you looked at him and it just made you angry cos no one who was that much of a dick should look that good. He had fucking crystals braided into his hair. Who did that? And why did it look so good and bring out the flecks of blue in his eyes so well? Barty wanted to strangle him. Really.

Pandora smiled kindly when the two of them stopped in front of Regulus, and Barty was surprised to watch as she took even one step closer to pull his friend into a hug. He was practically balking when Regulus returned the hug in kind. Asshole. Regulus never hugged him. 

“It’s wonderful to see you, Regulus,” Pandora smiled, then she turned to Barty, “You must be Barty. It’s a pleasure!”

He nodded and took her hand when she offered it, but in less of a handshake way and more of a…she held his hand and squeezed it in a sort of friendly…sisterly way. It was weird, and he didn’t hate it. 

Then he looked past Pandora and his gaze met Evans and...yikes. Lots of personality and warmth in those eyes. Yeesh. The dude looked like he was a thousand miles away and had generic, pre-programmed responses for every possible conversation scenario ready to auto-play when needed. This was going to be fun. He wasn’t particularly inclined to try civility, but he figured if he was gonna be around this bloke all night he might as well at least attempt to be nice.

He put on a smile and stuck out his hand, “So, seems we’re stuck together tonight, eh? Name’s B-”

“I know who you are.” Evan cut in, neither letting him finish nor taking his hand.

‘Well fuck you, too. Asshole.’

“Evan,” Barty heard Pandora hiss.

It was fine. Barty could play this game too.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” He asked, “Had a lot of fun in my chair the other day, huh? Don’t think anyone ever really forgets their first bl-”

“Barty,” it was Regulus’ turn to snap. Barty scowled at him but dropped it. 

“We should go inside,” Pandora suggested, her voice a bit tight, “The gala should be starting soon.”

She tucked her hand into Regulus’ arm and let him lead her through the front doors, leaving Evan still outside with Barty. Eyes narrowed, he gave him a final once-over. Nice suit. Black with deep crimson roses embroidered on the lapels and cuffs. He was pretty sure the cufflinks were roses as well. A bit on the nose all things considered, but it was nicely tailored, clearly expensive, and it did look good on him. 

He made sure Evan noticed the way his eyes fell to the embroidery on his lapels before looking up at him with a smirk, “Hah. Rosie.”

Evan’s reply was immediate, “Do not call me that.”

“I’m gonna call you that.”

“Fuck you.”

Barty grinned, tucking himself dramatically into Evan’s side as they followed after Regulus and Pandora, “Oh you wish, sweetheart. You wish.”

[bobasbn]

𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

1k words | rafayelxfem!reader | Rafayel gets a new lip piercing, cutesy, brat Raf

-

When your boyfriend, Rafayel, sent you an overly thrilled message about some surprise he had, you weren’t really expecting much. Perhaps he was going to showcase a new painting in the works for his next exhibit or maybe a new trick that he taught Reddie the fish. 

What you definitely weren’t expecting was to be met with a foreign sight of metal that adorned the corner of the bottom lip. A small, silver labret that sticks from his skin, glimmering every time he spoke or smiled. You stared at him with your mouth agape for a few seconds longer than intended and almost made him sob when he believed you didn’t like the new feature on his face. 

“I wanted to try something new. I’ve seen countless humans with these tattoos and piercings and I thought it wouldn’t look so bad on me,” Rafayel tried to explain when you asked why he had impulsively gone to pierce his lip. Not that you didn’t like it, in fact, you found it to be an immensely attractive sight. The piercing moved so hypnotically with every motion when he spoke. 

The only downside was that you couldn’t really express your affection with a peck or a kiss due to his healing process. Rafayel’s been going insane without your kisses and everyday he wished the piercing would heal at lightspeed. 

Today you decided to be a thoughtful girlfriend and encourage Rafayel to take care of his health by exercising. His lips were a bit swollen after getting the piercing but now that it’s been a few months it’s been gradually getting better. You’ve become increasingly enticed by the sight. The way it glimmers when he talks, when he plays around with the piercing using his tongue or teeth. It seamlessly fits on his face somehow like a puzzle piece you didn’t even realise was ever missing. Despite that, he’s been flopping around his studio like a fish out of water whining and groaning about the pain in his lips and the lack of kisses he’s receiving. 

“Come on Raf. You need some exercise,” you say, trying to convince him to step outside and go to the gym with you. Rafayel, albeit dressed in workout attire, stands with his arms crossed and a petulant frown on his face. That new lip ring he put on catches your eye, the metal hugging the pliable pink flesh of his lips.

“Exercise is not what I need right now to rejuvenate me,” he protests, stepping closer and wrapping an arm around your waist. You feel the warmth of his body through the thin fabric of his black tank top. He leans his head down a bit but all you see is that lip ring drawing closer. 

“How long has it been since you’ve stepped outside?” You ask. His hand trails lower, resting on the small of your back. His mind seems to be wandering somewhere that’s not this conversation you’re having. You decide to negotiate with him. Instead of a strenuous workout at the gym maybe he’ll settle for a walk for some fresh air. Rafayel can read your thoughts through your eyes and it deepens his frown to know that you want to drag him outside his studio.

“Does it matter?” He questions. “Can’t we just stay inside, watch the sea from the comfort of my studio?” He tries to steer you away from wanting to go exercise. 

“I’ll give you a kiss if you come walk-” Before you could even finish your sentence, Rafayel is fixing a black cap on his head and practically skipping out the door. He looks back at you and gestures for you to follow him. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!” He says impatiently. 

You roll your eyes at his sudden change in attitude. Taking his hand in yours, you two stroll out, the breeze brushing against Rafayel’s face for the first time in who knows how long. He keeps a tight grasp on your hand and leads you to the pristine beach of Whitesand Beach. The sun’s rays are a welcoming warmth against your skin, the light coruscating off the ocean across from you. 

You turn around to admire Rafayel. His soft purple locks wavering in the breeze, pink-blue eyes lovingly staring back at you… and that lip ring. It throws off the entire ‘soft boyfriend’ look he was previously presenting as. Such a small piece of jewellery somehow shifted his entire facade. 

“Are you sure you don’t secretly hate it?” Rafayel asks, giving a small squeeze to your hand. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I like it,” you reassure him for the umpteenth time. 

Rafayel looks at you in disbelief. His eyes are narrowed and eyebrows curved down as he turns his body to face you. He steps closer, his intention clear as day when he starts to lean down a bit. 

“Can I kiss you? Please?” Rafayel asks. You can’t deny him, you would never. Especially not when he looks like a kicked puppy begging for a kiss. 

You give him a simple nod. He immediately jumps at the chance, arms encircling your body and his lips smash against yours. 

It’s different. It’s exhilarating. The way the cool steel poking at your lips contrasts with his warm, supple lips is dizzying. When you reciprocate a second after, you can feel the small tug of a smirk on his lips as he indulges in you. 

“Rafayel-” You mumble between the kiss, “we’re in- public-” 

“And?” He inquires. He pulls away only a fraction, your lips still about a centimetre apart. 

“And? It’s not empty,” you whisper. Your eyes dart about around Rafayel, spotting a few other people casually lazing around on the beach. Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to really care about anything else but he straightens his back again. 

“Okay. Then let’s take a nice, relaxing walk back to my studio and spend more time together,” Rafayel suggests, a brazen smile plastered on his face. He sensed you were just about to protest so he acted quickly. His arm secured itself around the back of your knees, hoisting you up over his shoulder.

“Wha- Hey! Rafayel!” You almost screech when you find yourself slumped over his shoulder like you’re a bag of potatoes. This was the last thing you were expecting from him.

“Relax, cutie. We’re just going to… make sure my lip piercing is fully healed.” 

-

inspired by the random thought I had that what if Rafayel got a lip piercing bc he already has so many ear piercings. ♡⃕ first post of 2025. hope you enjoy!!!

[greyeyedmonster-18]

Five Times Sirius Black Fucked James Potter and One Time He Didn't

(a slytherin!sirius au... part 5/5. read parts one, two, three, and four.)

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“Well, I barely recognized you, Professor. What a surprise to see you here,” James said, clapping Sirius on the back between the shoulder blades. It was a lie. A bad one. James knew it was. Because he had walked into the Three Broomsticks and immediately recognized the dark curls  and broad shoulders sitting at the bar. And had only bought time over in the corner by his friends so it didn’t look like he immediately recognized him. He joined in the idle chit-chat, keeping an eye on Sirius the entire time, before making the excuse to go say hello to his son’s professor.

Briefly.

It would be brief. 

Lies, lies, lies. Nothing with Sirius Black was ever brief. 

But Sirius wasn’t wearing his teaching robes. He wasn’t in an expensive suit, or robes, or the usual attire James saw him in. Instead, a simple long sleeve t-shirt, pushed up to his elbows and all his forearm tattoos visible. A leather jacket was hanging off the back of his chair. And commenting on Sirius being outside of the usual settings they interacted in, seemed like the safest bet.

Sirius turned toward him, raising an eyebrow playfully, “End of the term. I am officially off the clock.”

“Celebrating?”

“Something like that.”

“I’m just over there,” James said, turning over his shoulder to look at his friends and colleagues gathered at a table in the corner, “You should come join us.”

Sirius laughed shortly, “No.”

“What? You’re just going to sit here alone?”

“Yes.”

“That can’t be much fun.”

“On the contrary, I love being alone. Ideal situation would be if this bar were completely empty. I’d help myself to the whiskey behind the bar if it were legal and pay for the staff to take the hours off,” Sirius replied, taking a sip of his drink, cheeky smile over the rim of his glass. James had come to learn that Sirius Black had one hell of a bark, and James had spent the better part of two decades on the receiving end of it, but had very little bite. Like a dog growling while playing tug of war. At least in James's experience. Always curious if he was the exception or the rule in Sirius’s world. 

“Haven’t sent me away yet,” James teased, pulling out the stool next to Sirius at the bar, 

“Well, you’re good company,” Sirius said plainly, raising his eyebrows and taking another sip of his drink. 

The exception.

James preferred it that way. 

“That was…nice.”

“I have my moments.”

“Let me buy you a drink.”

“Go back to your friends, Potter.”

James waved his hand toward his group of friends, “They see me enough. I mean it, let me buy you a drink.” 

Sirius turned toward James though, setting down his glass, “No.”

“I don’t even have to drink it with you just let me--”

“Let me finish, Potter,” Sirius said, holding up a hand to cut James off, “Before you go into one of frustrated rants and go on about how irritating I am, you cannot buy me a drink is because I always buy. That’s a non-negotiable,” James opened his mouth again, and Sirius gave him another pointed look, “and before you ask why, it’s because, as you love to remind me, I have piles of galleons and there is more than enough to go around.” Sirius put his hand down and finished the remainder of the drink in his glass.

More than enough to go around.

James thought back to the pairs of socks, and trousers and the time he had grabbed Sirius’s sweater while dressing when they were still in school together. Sneaking around. James always in an embarrassed hurry to leave, head spinning and unable to keep track of his belongings. At the time, it annoyed James, because Sirius was always so put together and seemed to know exactly where his uniform shirt was and where his socks had landed. In retrospect, Sirius had saved James several times from walking back to his dorm, sweaty feet in leather shoes. Sirius never asked for anything back. Keep it.

James thought about the cup of tea Sirius made him the night before his wedding. The hot shower. Sirius pulling out luxurious soap hidden in his bathroom cabinets, never asking for anything in return.

The ward at St. Mungo’s. The funds provided to Hogwarts and other wizarding schools around the country. 

And now this.

“Nothing to say? No rebuttal?” Sirius asked, “Have I finally rendered the great James Potter speechless?”

James nudged Sirius with his shoulder, “You’re still a prick. Even if…you surprise me by having a consistently generous mindset.”

“So, I’ll buy you a drink,” Sirius said firmly. A statement, not even a hint of a question. James’s stomach squirmed.

“By all means, Black,” James sat back, gesturing to the bar, watching as Sirius raised his hand to get the barmaid's attention. Without even asking, Sirius had ordered another whiskey on ice and a butterbeer, and James blinked in his direction.

“The whiskeys for me, don’t worry, Potter.”

“No, I know, how did you know I don’t drink?”

“There have been occasions where I’ve listened while you were speaking.” Definitely the exception. James’s stomach flipped again. “Now why’d you want to buy me a drink, exactly?”

“Good company,” James grinned, doing his best to recover quickly “And…I’ve got a really happy kid. I wasn’t sure how it was going to pan out, with him in Slytherin, but he’s…made friends, who aren’t all little brats, and he’s doing well in school and is on the Quidditch team, even. He’s…happy, and he’s thrivin,g and I feel like you might have something to do with that.”

“Might?”

“He speaks of you..a lot. Professor Black, this and Professor Black, that in his letters. No eleven year old should be this interested in Astronomy,” James said, and Sirius chuckled softly, “Without even physically being there, you’re there in my home. Are you happy with that?”

“Quite,” Sirius grinned back, nodding to the bartender as they returned their drinks. James watched as Sirius’s hand reached forward to give James his butterbeer first before taking his own drink. The gold watch on Sirius’s wrist was familiar now. So were the growing tattoos that trickled onto the top of his hand and wrapped around his fingers, having seen them in the parent-teacher conferences held throughout the term, but it didn’t make them less exciting. Intriguing. “Cheers, Potter.” Sirius raised his glass, holding eye contact with James as their drinks made a small clink together.

James took a drink of his butterbeer, running through conversation starters in his head, not wanting this interaction to finish just yet, not wanting his friends to notice his absence and have him not be in the middle of an animated conversation that simply couldn’t be disrupted. 

“Okay, you’re off the clock, not a professor anymore?”

“I’m not sure it works that way, if someone needed assistance, wouldn’t you help them?” Sirius asked.

“Sure, but I don’t think anyone in this pub will be asking for an astronomy lesson anytime soon, though I’m sure they’re riveting.”

“I’m off the clock,” Sirius confirmed.

“Then I have to know,” James started, “Is Snape still a slimy arsehole? And how pissed was he when you were given the Head of House position? I think I would’ve paid money--no, I would’ve had you pay money-- for me to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. He’s been teaching there for years, hasn’t he? You come in and take over. Do you think he cried? Do you think if we found a journal, he’d have a whole page dedicated to the moment you ruined his career?” James could’ve stopped talking. James could’ve asked one question and let Sirius answer. 

Except.

Sirius’s smile grew the longer he spoke, and Sirius started laughing. And through all the parent-teacher conferences and run-ins at Quidditch games in the past year, James learned that Sirius Black had the best laugh on the planet, and there was very little James wouldn’t say or do, to get him laughing. To keep him laughing. 

And James couldn’t decide what was worse.

Wanting to fuck your son's professor into the ground.

Or simply having a sickening, schoolboy crush on your son's professor.

And having to sit through meetings, pretending his heart wasn’t racing and wasn’t distracted by curls and cheekbones and long eyelashes. And waiting to see if a letter would come that day because days when he received post from Professor Black were the best days James would have (aside from days he received post or a mirror call from Harry). 

At least when they were meeting up, hooking up, and ravaging each other senseless, there was a point and an end, and James knew that he could walk out a door and not think about it twice. But the slow conversations, and the laughter, and the getting to know Sirius Black was devestating.

Because Sirius was smart, and it no longer annoyed James.

Because Sirius was quick, and funny, and James wanted to laugh with him.

Because Sirius was generous, and kind, and a million other things that James hadn’t bothered to realize before, and it was positively, absolutely, horrible. And wonderful. 

And it was all James could do, sitting there and easily talking with Sirius--another round for the both of them--until it grew dark outside and James's friends had gone home. Scarcely anyone around but the two of them as they peeled themselves off of bar chairs, Sirius tipping the staff handsomely, and ventured outside. 

Warm summer breeze.

“Are you at Hogwarts for the summer?” James asked, “Or will you be returning home?”

“A little bit of both. Tend to some house maintenance that was forgotten throughout the year…may decide to vacation somewhere else…” Sirius shrugged. James tried to school his face, so he didn’t look quite so put out at the response. All James really wanted to know was where will you be so I can find an excuse to write you. “Why do you look weird?” Sirius asked, “Is it because you’ve never considered I might take a vacation?” Apparently James had done a poor job of hiding anything.

Or perhaps Sirius had been watching him as well.

“Well now that you mentioned it…”  James trailed off but then stopped walking, running a hand nervously over the back of his next, “But…I was more asking for…in case…we need to write you. Homework…help, you know.”

A slow smirk appeared on Sirius face, and James instantly regretted saying anything, “Are you going to miss me, Potter?”

“Shut up. Forget it,” James rolled his eyes, making to continue their walk out of Hogsmeade. James unsure of where they were heading in the first place, but knowing he just wanted to follow Sirius.

“Just hold on,” Sirius said, grabbing James’s wrist and stopping him, “I’ll write you. Wherever I’m at.”

“...That…yeah, that’d be..good. I guess. If you want.”

Sirius pulled James wrist lightly so James was facing him more directly. The two of them standing face-to-face, locked, like statues in a garden. James took a step forward, toes of their shoes meeting on the dirt of the Hogsmeade pathway. 

“I don’t want to play games anymore. I’m tired of the running and leaving, and I won’t do it anymore with you,” Sirius said, his voice low and steady, “So I’ll say, I’m going to write you plenty this summer. And I might ask you to come join me for a drink again, or dinner, or even to my spectacular vacation home. And you can protest when I foot the bill, and I’ll…roll my eyes when you say something ridiculous, and…we’ll go on. Because I want to spend every irritating minute with you.” 

James knew how he must’ve looked. Astounded and stupid, mouth half-hanging open, listening to every word Sirius had said.

Blame it on age, or time passing, but James knew didn’t want to play games anymore either.

“So…you’ll write then?”

“Yeah, I’ll write, tosser,” Sirius said with a half grin, one of his fingers hooking into the belt loop of James’s jeans and pulling him closer. James took the opportunity, now that they were in such close proximity, to brush a stray dark curl out of Sirus’s face, securing his hand at the base of Sirius’s next.

“You’re so beautiful.” James couldn’t help himself. Words slipping out carelessly. 

“I know,” Sirius responded quickly.

“Okay, bloody arrogant--” James mumbled into Sirius’s laughing mouth, unable to finish his sentence without tongues and lips getting in the way. James kept his hand on Sirius’s neck and felt Sirius pull him closer, their chests pressed together. In the middle of Hogsmeade, for once not thinking about who would see or what he was doing. 

It was freeing. 

“Come over,” Sirius said against his mouth, breaking the kiss.

“What for?” James asked. Playing with fire. Some old habits would never die.

Sirius’s voice dropped, “So I can fuck you into my very expensive mattress. I’ll make you cum all over my sheets, and when you think you’re finished, I’ll do it all over again,” he said, tugging on his belt loop again, and James reflexively put a hand on Sirius’s chest to stop himself from stumbling forward at the force. “Come over,” Sirius repeated. 

It wasn’t the first time they had been there, James writhing underneath Sirius’s, face pressed against a pillow covered in silky material. Sirius with James’s hand tangled in his hair, pushing his head down. 

The mess of it all. James purposely laying Sirius down in the soaking wet spot on the sheets. Sirius teasing, teasing, teasing until James unraveled completely. 

“You were right,” James said, lying next to Sirius in bed, a clock ticking in the silence, as both of them caught their breath. Sirius’s leg thrown over James’s hips. James's fingers still stuck in Sirius's curly hair. Just in case he was tempted to go again.

“Probably. About what, specifically?”

“All those years ago. In the locker room? It wasn’t the last time. Not by a long shot.”

[impishtubist]

Okay but Imp!!! I need to know, Does grandpa Sirius get tattoos for his grandkids?!?

Of course Grandpa Sirius gets tattoos for his grandkids! Idk what those tattoos would be because I have zero imagination and am so bad at coming up with unique tattoos, but he would definitely have tattoos for his grandkids. (And also for Harry and Teddy. I think he got Harry's tattoo already when Harry was born, and then he adds one for Teddy when he's born).

Lovely followers, what tattoos would Grandpa Sirius get for the grandkids?

[freakinator]

new leo yippee

[amiharana]

ok I was reading thru your tattoo/flower shop au and I had to share the brainrot.

I hc revali as indigenous (particularly great plains native american) and oh man, what if at some point he very hesitantly brings up with link that he wants to get facial tattoos or something similar that's significant to him but he's nervous?? And Link goes out of his way to learn traditional stick-n-poke techniques so he can be the one to give revali his tattoos?? And it's like super sweet and meaningful for them both and Link feels honored that revali trusts him enough to ask? (and also revali is scared shitless and Link has to stop several times so he doesnt mess up and hurt revali more than it typically would)

like what if though???

ahem (taps mic) Hello can anyone hear me. i haven't written a tumblr ask in ages i feel ancient

first of all, i'm glad to hear that you still think of my tattoo/flower shop au haha it's been way over a year now since i wrote it. i still very much appreciate everyone who drew art for it 🫶 i've had a few passing thoughts about writing it into an actual proper multi-chaptered fic but i've been busy wrestling with school, work, and my personal demons for the past year that it's been quite difficult to even think about writing anything. thank you to anyone who's still here; i appreciate you a lot 🤍

i love the hc of revali as indigenous and i think it really fits in with the presence of the rito people as we're introduced to in the games, but i won't touch on that too much since i'm not indigenous/well-versed in indigenous culture. you know what i Am well-versed in though? these gay ass mfs

i had to reread my own au post for this Lord it's been too long, i wrote back then that i thought of revali as someone who isn't too fond of tattoos and doesn't have a great pain tolerance for them, and i still believe in that LOL. mixing that in with a hc where revali is indigenous is quite interesting, because i would assume that tattoos are an important/frequently appearing aspect of the culture? revali's parents have also passed in this au and he's alone with no family running the shop, so perhaps revali was estranged from his indigenous culture while growing up/at some point and became interested in trying to connect with it as an adult. maybe he came across the topic of traditional tattoos and after researching about it, he became interested in getting one but again because of his low pain tolerance, he thought it probably may never happen. well...

during one of their shared lunch breaks perhaps at a new cafe that's opened up on tabantha street, revali absentmindedly mentions his family and the tattoos. link immediately looks up at him from his food, those lovely blue eyes searching his face curiously.

"traditional tattoos?" he says, cocking his head at revali. revali blinks. well, of course link would have interest in the topic since he was a fellow tattoo artist himself, but the way he was looking at revali was...

"well yes," revali continues. "i suppose i haven't really talked to you much about myself personally, have i? i'm an indigenous hyrulean and my blood is descended from the rito tribe, but i'm not well-versed in my own culture." he mumbles the last few words, looking down at his coffee. "my parents and i lived on reservation land until i was 5 and then we moved away to a bigger city for work. there weren't many other rito there and so i didn't grow up with a lot of other indigenous folk. i don't know much about my family or my culture because of it, and even after my parents passed, it's never come up until now." revali glances back at link, who is now watching him with rapt attention. he looks away again, his cheeks beginning to warm. "i thought it would be nice to connect with my culture by getting a traditional tattoo of the rito tribe, perhaps something small so i can handle it. though, i wouldn't be able to travel to the reservation to find a traditional tattooist because of the shop and neither do i know of any tattoo artists nearby that could do it..."

"i'll do it," link says suddenly. revali looks at him again and blinks. link's eyes are bright and wide, blazing with determination. he's still holding his sandwich in his hands.

"i-i couldn't ask that of you," revali says, heart skipping a beat. "you'd likely have to learn an entire new and unfamiliar technique, and—"

"i'll do it," link insists, placing the sandwich down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. his eyes are still trained on revali, just as insistent as his mouth is. revali swallows.

"use a napkin, please," he mutters, passing link one. the blond takes it and grins at him. "if it's something that you greatly desire to do... i will assist you in offering as much information as i can. i... appreciate it, link." i appreciate you, he thinks but the words get stuck in his throat. link's smile only grows.

thinking about link who researches rito tribal tattoos for a few weeks and reporting and discussing his findings with revali during their mon/wed lunch breaks. thinking about link who spends countless nights staying up compiling everything he finds into a document, the different types of tribal tattoos and their meanings, researching the materials and tools needed for traditional tattoos, sketching different tribal symbols endlessly for the perfect one for revali in between tattoo sessions with other clients, thinking about where on revali's body it would go, thinking about revali's warm skin under his hands... let's keep it PG link 🫡

the day finally arrives when link introduces the tattoo sketches to revali. link probably shows him a few ideas of a small rito symbol on his fingers, wrist, deltoid, ankle, and even ribs. HOWEVER. i really like the idea of the winged rito symbol across the back of revali's shoulders to represent his wings in canon? so what if. link who sketched a drawing of revali's back muscles with the winged rito symbol and he doesn't mean to show it to revali since it's a much bigger tattoo than revali wanted, but revali happens upon it anyway while scrolling through the sketches on link's ipad.

"what's this one?" revali says pointing at it.

link glances over at the screen and flushes. "oh, i didn't mean for you to see this one," he murmurs. he uses two fingers to zoom in on the image slightly. "i just had an idea for this particular symbol, so i sketched it out because i thought it'd look nice. i know you wanted a smaller one, so we can just focus on the first sketches—"

"it's beautiful," revali cuts him off, voice soft and still looking at the winged sketch. "how much do back tattoos hurt?" and link is jaw dropped, staring at him with hearts in his eyes LMFAOOOOOOOO

thinking about link who actually reaches out to a traditional tattooist from revali's tribe and asks if he can mentor link so he can learn their technique??? maybe link and revali who end up traveling to the reservation together so revali can visit and link can learn directly from the tattooist??? revalink road trip and sharing a bed trope??? link would probably only take a week tops to learn the technique since he's like a prodigal artist and the tattooist is impressed. also revali getting to spend time with and learn more about his culture from others from the tribe who live there 🥺

if revali does get the winged rito symbol tattoo on his back, he probably wouldn't get it as a solid color, maybe link would incorporate more tribal lineart into it like the totk zonai imagery? i've never gotten a tattoo so i don't know if back tattoos or the style of solid color tattoos would hurt, but regardless, link would make revali as comfortable as he can throughout all the sessions 🥺🥺🥺

originally when i read this ask and you mentioned facial tattoos, i thought about link gently holding revali's jaw between his pointer finger and thumb to readjust the positioning of his face in the midst of tattooing him, and revali sucking in a breath at the contact WAHHHH but with the direction i took with this post, i also thought about link laying a flat palm between revali's shoulder muscles, feeling the warmth of his skin and tracing his shoulder blades with a featherlight touch and revali getting flustered but muttering, "are you going to keep me in suspense?"

link traces a line down revali's spine. "are you sure you want to get this tattoo?" he murmurs. "we can still do the smaller ones instead if you want. i know how you feel about it, with your pain tolerance and all."

revali snorts, trying to mask his nervousness. "i've already made up my mind. it's a beautiful piece that you put a lot of thought into and i'm not backing out now. besides..." revali's voice lowers into a mumble. "i wouldn't have gone through with it if it was anyone else. i trust you."

link's cheeks pinked in the sweet way they do when revali catches him off-guard, but he can't take it back. he doesn't want to take it back, because it's true; revali trusts link for this with everything he has.

hhh . AHHHH . i just think. yeagh.

[the-lark-ascending69]

Had this moment of extreme anger and aggression out of nowhere and ended up hurting myself and then i wrote about it, went out to get some coffee, chatted w the coffee lady for 5 minutes, watched an episode of amphibia and now i feel weirdly refreshed and hopeful about life and the future??

[gothsuguru]

let it be known…. bestie!sukuna does a killer winged eyeliner