#this twas a RIDE BITCH

[starogeorgina]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐧

Warnings: Incest, light smut, swearing, cheating

Pairing: Cregan Stark x reader, Aemond Targaryen × reader

1.01

Your eyes glistened with tears as they dribbled down your cheeks. You swallow back the bile rising and rub at your temples with your free hand, bringing yourself back to reality. You could only stare up at the empty sky for so long while imagining what it would be like to be an actual dragon, free to go wherever you want.

“He’s been feeding for some time,” Aemond says softly. “His stomach must be full.”

“I know how to feed my babe. He’ll stop latching on when he’s no longer hungry.”

Aemond, who was still standing on the opposite side of the room, slowly starts to approach you. “I mean know offensive wife, I know you care for him without fault.”

You say nothing.

A few moments pass, and your babe finally lets go of your breast. When you wipe milk from his mouth, he starts to fuss. “There, there,” you coo. “There’s nothing to cry over, my little Prince; time for bed.”

Gently you put Maitland into the cot placed beside your bed; only after you’re sure he’s settled do you finally make eye contact with Aemond. His eye is glossy with tears. “You had your belongings moved from our bedchamber.”

Aemond attempts to touch your shoulder, but you shrug him off.

“Twas only a matter of time, wasn’t it? Before you betrayed me.” Your voice cracks and your stomach churns. “I will not share a bed with a man who puts his precious whore before his family and lies to my face.”

“If Aegon—”

“Do not blame him for letting me know how much of a fool I was. Singing your praises, bearing your child, bragging how I had the perfect husband. I needed you by my side, Aemond, but instead of being there, you were coddled by that old whore.”

His lip twitches, “And what do you purpose we do now? I’m still your husband. We have a child together; you must hold some love for me.”

“When Maitland is older, we will perform our duty again, but until then, nothing. No more dragon riding, no more attending plays together, no walks in the garden. When we walk by each other in the halls, we will say nothing.”

“None of it needs to be this way in truth.”

The raw emotion in his voice is surprising, but you refuse to budge. Give into your emotions. Aemond broke something inside. You whisper, “It’s too late.”

His sight goes to the cot, and you could see the wheels of panic turning.

“You are free to spend as much time with our son as you wish; just try not to disappoint him as you have me.”

Five years later

Breathing in the scent of dragon, you bury your nose deeper into the crook of Aemond’s neck. The smell brings you comfort, a warmth you don’t get from your husband.

Pushed up against the cold wall in your chambers, you wait for Aemond to finish fucking you as if you were a bitch in heat. Aemond was completely nude, while your body was concealed by your green dress. Aemond lets go of your hip and pinches your nipple; he smirks, feeling the way you arch your back.

Your fingers cling to his hair, “fuck, harder.”

Aemond speeds up his thrust, his hips slapping against yours. The maester had worked out the best time during each moon for his seed to take, and it was one of the few times you’d interact. There were times you felt lonely and sought out his comfort, but each time you went to his bedchambers they were empty.

He was with her.

Trying to fall in love with Aemond again was as painful as reopening an old wound.

“Gods,” he grunts, spilling his seed. His lips graze your ear. “It’s been too long since we did this.”

“Yes, well…” You brush by him and begin putting your stockings back on. “We have much to do in the name of our king.”

While redressing, Aemond frowns watching you walk towards the door. “Where are you going? The handmaidens are coming shortly to help you get ready.”

“To see my boy.”

“He’s asleep.”

“I know that, Aemond,” you deadpan. “It doesn’t matter what I’m wearing. Once I arrive, I’ll need to bathe before formally meeting with Lord Stark. I don’t imagine northerners will appreciate the strong smell of dragon after a long journey.”

A sound that resembles chuckle leaves his lips.

When your grandsire first proposed sending dragon riders as envoys, you offered to fly the longest journey north. Helaena did not wish to participate; Daeron was in Old Town, and Aegon needed to remain in the keep, leaving only you and Aemond to bicker over what houses you’d visit.

In the privacy of the small council with only Aegon and yourself, your grandsire speaks freely. “Mayhaps it would be better if the princess went to treat with Lord Cregan at Winterfell. He is young but fierce and may be persuaded by the gentle heart of a woman rather than threats.”

It was known Stark didn’t break oaths, but you had an ulterior motive for volunteering.

“I do not need a fancy dress to go dragon riding. I will see my son before going to the dragon pit.” You bite at your nails while contemplating what to say next. “Be safe, brother.”

—

“Princess.”

Disappointment strikes you as soon as you see Ser Criston standing post outside your bedchamber. You start walking down the hallway, knowing the knight would follow close behind. “Where is my sworn shield?”

“I took over his shift.”

Scoffing, you glare at him. “Scared I’ll tell my husband of your dirty little secret?”

“Not at all princess; I know the love you hold for the dowager queen and wouldn’t risk tarnishing her name.”

If the hour wasn’t late and you weren’t near your son's nursery, the knight would have received the sharpness of your tongue. But you had no intention of waking Maitland.

“You’ve become too comfortable around dragons, Ser Criston. If it was one of my brothers who walked in, they would have been burned in flames by now.”

Your demeanor changes when you reach the nursery, “Ser Arryk.”

“Princess,” he opens the door for you. “Lord commander.”

Ameond had personally chosen Ser Arryk to be Maitland's shield, and it was a wise decision. “Ser Arryk, during my absence there's naught to be changed to my son's customs.”

“I won’t let him out of my sight, princess.”

—

When you arrived at Winterfell, you were informed Lord Stark wasn’t in his castle but at Castle Black. After accepting a warm meal and a chance to clean up, you fly on Dragonback to the wall, much to the horror of the men of the night’s watch.

“Most of them thought you were coming to burn us.”

You chuckle, “Fear is common in the presence of a dragon, but I suppose the rangers who scout beyond the walls will have much worse things to fear.”

“They are a sight to behold. My father brought King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne to see the Wall; it’s an honor to lay eyes on the same dragons he did. Although I am surprised you are alone, princess.”

“Vermithor and Silverwing are deeply connected and cannot be parted easily.”

When you reach the top of the wall, you take each step with caution; ice and snow weren’t something you were accustomed to walking on. Lord Stark notices and does his best to hide the smile on his face.

“Do they both have riders?”

You smile proudly, “Silverwing is bonded with my son. He is too young and small to mount her yet, but the dragon keepers think he will be ready in a couple of years.”

“Many of the ladies in Winterfell laugh that I won’t allow my son, Rickon, who is seven, to travel to the wall with me.”

You continue making small talk about your children, and you learn Lord Stark’s wife died in childbirth. He stops walking when you reach a spot in the middle of the wall that faces the forest, which is believed to be haunted. The longer you stare at it, the darker it becomes, just like you had foreseen in your head.

“I’ll speak freely with you, princess; Starks do not forget their oaths, and my father swore our house and bent the knee to the king's chosen heir in front of King Viserys and princess Rhaenyra. You must know that regardless of who sits on the throne, my gaze will forever be torn between north and south.”

“Thank you, my lord, for being honest.” Your reaction of understanding instead of anger seems to surprise him. “When winter comes, your strength will be needed here more than in King's landing. Your men are the guardians against the cold and the dark.”

He cocks his head; the look in his eyes is hard to read. “Most people outside our lands think the wall was built to keep out wildings and weather.”

“Death sleeps beneath the ice.”

[siremasterlawrence]

Truth Hurts Part Two

Charlie can’t help himself rolling a ride to his side as he lies with me in bed reveling in his own self-destruction when he sighs deeply thinking about our other roommate, Henry and he tends to me thinking about how we can take them out easily. I delight in his own need to please, serve,worship and obey me without question but, I endure all of his love because I cup his chin and inform him about Henry’s demise along with this and I kiss him before falling asleep in dreaming of Henry.

Instantaneously as Henry’s eyes pop open for a split second he’s staring at the wall as he’s overcome with the sensation of purely ire of passion ravishing his body to new levels and he is crying and moaning, and in a sea of ecstasy there is nothing in this world wonderful than this. His eyes began to flutter before rolling back into his eyes sockets as he is, his eyes collapse in in his eyelids shut closed h his mind begins to drift away as his facial expression gives give him self away and all that matters is the sweet power with in him.

Eventually, Henry dirts oft in to a deep coma with me power surging through his body in a electrical power current as he loses it in hot sea of fits rushing him as he goes in to a fit of tremors because his body is connecting with mine. I lick my lips as I woke up in his body fully dressed I roll off on to the side of my bed then slid off of the bed landing in his slippers and then get up checking the room around me as I get himself up to snuggle as his body is rock solid hard and his cock poke out. Head off in to my room before I return to my body.

“Charlie! Lock the door “

“Stand by the wall”

“Kneel”

“Yes Master”

“Hey sexy”

“What happened?”

“You don’t remember “

“My body that dream”

“Tell me more, go on don’t be shy”

“I don’t know, my dream I was on autopilot “

“You enjoyed it!”

“How did you know you freakish lose it?”

“Because I did it, it ‘twas me”

“You lil bitch”

“Whatever you massive pussy “

“So free yourself”

“What? I am deadly serious “

“Make use of your body then”

“Uuuugggghhh….I hate you “

“You wish you did “

“Big bang pong! Shut down”

“Yes Master”

“Focus! State your business “

“My best friend “

“My lover “

“My master “

“What can I do for you sir?”

“Charlie and Henry”

“Yes Sir”

“Yes Master”

“Get dressed with have a agenda to hit “

“Please explain “

“Well this is my place now”

“Naturally! Everything is yours “

“Obviously! Henry grab the keys “

“Yes Master”

“We are going shopping “

“Hey yeah! For what?”

“We need to buy everything “

“Our money ?”

“Hell yeah!”

“We have no style”

“No class”

“Fix us”

“Let’s go bitches “

“Oh Master”

“Do you love us?”

“More then anything “

“From here to the moon”

“Yes sire”

“Master”

“Yes Henry “

“I have my gun to protect you if you need it”

The end

[gagmebucky]

my first steve fic... don’t drag me about the characterization please i did my BEST and that’s all the matters, really 😌

[boxer!steve. size kink. doll.] 

His jaw ticks. “It’s not a challenge, doll,” he bites out. “It’s a warning. If I tried to get inside you, I’d split you in half in the process.” His eyes flicker down, and your nipples are pebbles against the thin, easily-rippable fabric—you’re testing him, and he’s failing. “Goddamn it,” he hisses underneath his breath. “That - that shouldn’t turn you on.” Bristling, he drops his hand and pedals backward—he’s on his last thread, and it’s his sole chance to make a clear-headed decision. 

in which steve can’t resist what he feels for you. (includes boxer!steve x coach’s-daughter!reader, steve’s pov, dirty talk, mild choking, size kink, grinding, unprotected sex, creampie kink, overstimulation.)

—

Steve Rogers has impeccable self control. He knows how to control his emotions, to maintain a clear head amid the mist of commotion, to command his body to follow his head and not the violent, primal instincts that prickle underneath his skin. 

And despite the lifelong effort required to uphold this principle, he’s found great fortune in the endeavor. Most don’t realize it, but in his occupation, there’s a certain level of restraint necessary in order to be successful. He has experienced it on both ends so he’s aware of just how important it is. 

Growing up, he hadn’t known better. In the numerous instances where he’d been provoked and pushed, he gave in; consequently, suffering gravelly. Knuckles split, bones broken and face bloodied, his anger got the better of him, and his opponents always got the benefit. 

But that’s where your father came in, and showed him the way to fight back and win every time, to redirect his mania into his fists and funnel them in tactful blows that resulted in trophy after trophy. Once Steve learned how to do that, everything became a breeze. It’s more than a combat style but a way of living. 

Ultimately, he gets what he wants because he can make logic-based decisions and utilize his visceral drive in executing them. And a wallet fat with unmatched winnings, a house for his family and a luxurious apartment of his own, his name on the lips of the masses, it’s a fucking amazing life—for the most part, anyway. 

Except for the one part: you.

The problem with self control, he has come to realize, is that when he truly desires something, he sees the cons of that thing. Usually, if it outweighs the pros, he’ll stop it before it begins. However, in the case of you, that formula isn’t working like it’s supposed to. 

You see, he knows he can’t have you, and he knows why. You are the daughter of his mentor, the only child of the single reason that he’s evolved into the East Coast’s Golden Glove Champion three times in a row, and pursuing you is beyond disrespectful. 

So why the fuck can’t he get you out of his head? 

That’s what he keeps asking himself. Another glorious win, and it won’t stop rattling inside his skull like a hammer on a gong. The crowd is chanting his name but yours is beating a tattoo inside his rib cage. The post-win rush surges through his veins and hits harder than any blows he’s ever received but spotting the proud tilt of your lips amongst the masses is like punch from God themself.

His clean-shaven jaw locks as the referee lifts his right arm and everyone goes wild, losing your face in the fanfare. This is the part where he basks in it, where he loses himself in the victory of sweat and blood slick across his skin; money and recognition, a reminder of the advantages of self-discipline; his reward of what he gets when he uses his brain and not the urges that prickle underneath his skin. 

This time, however, it’s not as gratifying as it’s supposed to be. No, it’s fucking agitating because instead of being the thing that gets him what he wants, it’s the obstacle in his way. 

He can’t pin-point exactly why the desire is striking him this intensely but he suspects it has something to do with the fact that you’ve just returned after a while, and your father is still gone—which means you’ll be upstairs in the gym’s apartment, alone, when he comes to see you (and he will come and see you, what’s the quote about looking and not touching?). 

The tension in his muscles advises his better judgement not to. The wild thump thump thump of his heart to the tune of your name dictates he find some other not-forbidden girl to release the mania coiled inside him before he does; that, it’s not like you’d mind he greet you in the morning—in fact, you’d understand. 

Except, he feels like a live wire right now, and there’s a pull inside him that feels like you’re the only thing that can fray his edges back into stability. 

You’re on the counter when he walks in. Barefoot, you’re kneeling on the flat surface to reach a high shelf in one of the kitchen’s cabinets. One arm stretched above your head, you blindly search for the contents for a cup, palm slapping against wood as you do. After seconds of failure, a cutely disgruntled noise leaves your throat, and you shuffle up to your toes. 

For a moment, he’s entranced by the display. A smile quirks the corner of his lips, running his gaze down the outline of your figure. Adorned in a tank top and ass-hugging jeans, there’s not a flaw in sight; other than his hands not on you, exploring every inch, crushing your body against his. Oh, that and you’re about to fall. 

“Oomph!” expels in a feminine grunt when you flail backwards and collide with the cushion of his embrace. His forearm hooks around your waist like an anchor and packs you against his chest before gently sliding you down his body to the safety of the ground. In doing so, momentarily, he’s caught up in how you feel against him, your back huddled into his front like puzzle pieces.

Everything about him is big, and it occurs to him that everything about you is small. His herculean stature dwarfs yours: six-foot of towering strength versus your soft, shorter frame. You barely require an ounce of strength to be lifted, and his blood rushes to his lower region with what he can do with that knowledge. 

Subconsciously, he tightens his hold until you tilt your head back to blink up at him with those enamoring big eyes. With that, he snaps out of his daze and relinquishes you with a quiet, “Sorry.” Before you can respond, he reaches beyond to grab the item of your desire and hands it over.

Your lashes flutter. “Thanks, killer,” you breathe cheekily as you accept it, the delayed rise and fall of your decolletage slowly regulating. You step out of his space. leaving him cold in your wake, and pad over to the sink with your back to him. “You did good out there, by the way.”

At the praise, his smile restores, and he inches toward you. “Just good?” he echoes after you’ve turned the faucet on and off and crosses his arms in faux offense.

Lips curled around a drink of water, you whirl around and finish a swig. Droplets glisten on your Cupid’s bow, and he swears you’re doing this on purpose when your pink tongue licks the liquid clean. “Do you really need little ‘ole me feeding your ego?” you tease and lean against the counter. 

“You are little,” he agrees with a perfunctory nod. 

You roll your eyes playfully and set the half-full cup down. “No. You - you’re just huge.” You gesture pointedly at his broad, muscle-laden build; dragging your stare down his squared shoulders to his defined abdomen to the tree trunks he has for thighs. An airy quality lingers in your voice, almost high pitched, as you add, “I don’t understand how your competitors don’t go running for the hills when they see you.” 

Taking another stride forth, head cocking, he observes you. There’s something in your expression he can’t quite explain but it pumps confidence into his blood. He glances at himself, white under armor t-shirt and gray sweats, but there’s no downplaying the physical strength he possesses. “You think I’m intimidating?”

You scoff and shake your head vehemently. “To other people, yeah. Me? Not so much.” A devious grin curves into those alluring lips of yours, and you straighten against the counter (not that it helped any with the height difference). “I could take you better than any of those losers you’ve gone against.” 

He laughs, husky and genuine. “Oh? Is that what you think?”

You stand your ground and encroach upon him, stabbing a finger into his chest. “It’s what I said, isn’t it?” 

Alarm bells ring between his ears, but he’s too lost in the beautiful arrogance on your face to listen. “Okay,” he says then backs up to the middle of the room where space is more ample and beckons you over with both hands. “C’mon then.” 

As he expected, you don’t back down. You smooth your hand through your hair and kick off the bottom cupboard. Rolling your shoulder, you enter his orbit; a friendly competitiveness gleams in your dilated pupils, darkening enough for him to notice beneath the kitchen’s warm-toned luminences. 

Your stance is nothing less than perfection (much like the rest of you). Orthodox, you project your right side but spread your weight evenly through both legs; a smidge wider than your shoulders, you bounce on the balls of your feet. Hands in a loose fist, your elbows are drawn together, and your chin tucks, looking up at him through your knitted eyebrows. 

There’s no question about your combative ability but his just more developed—given this is what he does for a living—so while you’re fast and your punches twist like it comes straight out of the textbook, he has the upper hand. 

In a half-hearted demeanor, he humors you. For a moment, the both of you encircle each other, him with a suppressed smile, you with concentrated brows. Like lightning, you advance on him and push through a superlative jab. But as quick as you are, he’s quicker. 

Deftly dodging your knuckles, he catches your dainty wrist. A squeal escapes your throat as he wrenches it behind your lower back. The swift action draws your body against his once again; the dull ridges of your back molds so close to his front that he knows you can feel the hammer of his heart beating an imprint between your shoulder blades. 

You wiggle briefly, and he has to bite down on a groan at the faint jean vibrations against his sweats, but you eventually relax with a long whine of, “No fair!” 

“You said—”

“Not what I meant,” you interject breathlessly, a salacious underlying in the words that he can no longer play oblivious to—dawning on him in a gut-clenching heat. “When I said I could take you, Rogers, I wasn’t talking about in a fight. Though, I won’t mind if we got a little violent. . .”

His breathing hitches. “I knew it.” A truth he long-buried—the strike of realization he avoided confronting in an attempt to hinder his own feelings—hurtles in his rib cage as he unwillingly accepts the reality you want him in the perverse idiosyncrasy he wants you. That beastly part of him roars in ravenous elation while his practiced erudition advises you in a low and pained plead, almost a groan, “You gotta stop.” 

With a breezy laugh, a twinkling song of laughter, you repeat a doubtful, “Stop?” and do the exact opposite. Your body careens into him, specifically your ass grinding encouragement against the hardening bulge in his pants. “Doesn’t feel like you want me to.” 

You’re right. “I don’t.” The reply rumbles through his chest and wrenches out strangled. The grip on your wrist increases before vanishing altogether. “But you’re Coach’s daughter, and out of all the things not to do, you’re number one on that list.” 

Freed, you twirl around and retain the lack of distance. You look up at him with unwavering seduction. “When you’re looking at me like that, does that really matter anymore?” 

Again, you’re right. But that’s not the issue—not the prevailing one, that is. “I’ve thought about you a million different ways but in reality, I’d break you,” he admits in a ragged exhale and licks his bottom lip. Another analytical once-over confirms his deduction; your danity frame clashing with his would be something beastly. “How would your daddy react knowing I ruined his pretty little girl?”

To his pleasure and displeasure, it doesn’t dissuade your attraction. No, it seems to have heightened it instead. “Is that a promise?” you ask, lust scintillating in your eyes like moonlight on the ocean, and he has to recoil away because you’ve got too much power over him with a look like that. “Steve—” 

Your hand grapples his before he can get far, an earnest strength he doesn’t have to bat an eyelash at. But it’s that—another reminder of your size differences and how easily he could bend and fold you to his liking—that has a carnal current torrenting from the depths of his soul, demanding an innate action. 

On impulse, he lurches forward with an inhuman growl and herds you backward until his hips are trapping yours against the counter edge. His hand wraps around the column of your neck, partially spanning your jaw to tilt upwards. 

“In every one of those fantasies, I use you like a rag doll—fast and rough, never gentle. And you wanna know why? ‘Cause you’re fuckin’ small and it’s the only possible way for me to fuck you,” he rasps, strained and serious, imploring you to understand the gravity of his words. “That’s in the case, that I can even fit inside you in the first place. So, you may say you can handle me but the truth is, you wouldn’t be able to take just one of my fingers.”

The speech is to deter you; invoke some common sense in that intelligent brain of yours because all of his is withering by the second. In lieu of his intention, it excites you further. Your pulse races against his palm but the flames in your gaze tell him it isn’t from fear. “You seem so sure about that but. . . but I don’t think so,” you purposely goad that volatile and competitive aspect of him. “Why don’t we try and see who’s right?”

His jaw ticks. “It’s not a challenge, doll,” he bites out. “It’s a warning. If I tried to get inside you, I’d split you in half in the process.” His eyes flicker down, and your nipples are pebbles against the thin, easily-rippable fabric—you’re testing him, and he’s failing. “Goddamn it,” he hisses underneath his breath. “That - that shouldn’t turn you on.” Bristling, he drops his hand and pedals backward—he’s on his last thread, and it’s his sole chance to make a clear-headed decision. 

“No,” you state simply, following after him. “I - I think you’re scared. I think you don’t want to admit that someone as small as me could take you so easily—and I mean easy—where everyone else fell to their knees.” A coy smirk upturns the corner of your lips. “Though I also wouldn’t be opposed to getting on mine right now.” 

That’s it. The last shred of ascetic lessons from the past six years bursts into ash. The fire ignites an unhinged frenzy, tunneling into his veins and coursing through his blood like the water of a previously dammed river now freed of placating obstruction. 

With unrestricted strength, Steve hauls you into his arms, cording underneath your ass and hoisting you high around his abdomen. In a gnashing kiss, he crushes his lips against yours. There’s no delay in your response, returning his passion in a rivaling degree. 

That formerly-leashed, hedonistic entity within him preens from its shackles and livens with unhinged reign. Electricity crackles underneath his skin and tingles violently in feral need. Every filthy imagining he’s conjured of you strobes through his mind, and he feels like a man who hasn’t eaten in years, and you’re the delectable T-bone steak he gets to devour. 

You moan into his mouth, a pretty vibration he swallows, as he laps up your taste. The musical sound, the way you explode on his tongue, it all goes to his head like a hit off a drug and slithers down his spine to the ache in his cock. 

His hips snap forward, and his grasp on you intensifies; clutching your ass, he’s rocking your center into his cotton-clad erection roughly. Shards of pleasure ricochet through him, but it’s not enough—he needs more, needs more of your titillating sounds, more of your body on his, of you coming undone because of him, you making him fall apart. 

As you writhe against him with breathy sounds, he sets you on the counter and goes for your pants. Logic evades him at this point—like the fact it’d be the same amount of time with less effort it’d be if he slipped off—and his hands tear the denim material down the middle. Using little effort, he continues to remove what separates you, doing away with your panties next. All the while, you’re gasping in surprise and possibly outrage but he can’t focus on that right now. 

“You don’t understand,” he speaks laboredly, shoving his sweats to his knees to reveal he’s gone commando. “How bad I’ve wanted you. How hard it was—how hard you make me—to keep from myself taking you in every disgusting way I dreamed about.” 

Slicked with precum, his veined manhood is just as thick as it is long; past lovers have gawked at the formidable steel, shying away immediately after, and he’s always understood that. But you, you look at him starry-eyed, licking your bottom lip like you want him exploding on your tongue. 

And as much as he’d marvel at the sight of your cheeks stuffed like chipmunk with his cock— has thought how hot it’d sound when you’re gagging relentlessly around him—he’s got his attention lasered on that tiny prize between your thighs. 

A teasing triangle of perfection, daring him to completely abuse and batter as he pleases. You’re glistening like diamonds in the sunlight, effectively blinding him in a bind of corporeal desire—there’s no thinking, only action; no right or wrong, just what he wants.

His hands pinch underneath your knees and slide you to the edge. In tandem, he slots himself flat against your weeping heat, squishing the length of his cock between the split of your slit, burrowing himself there as if it’s his new home. 

Mutual moans and shivers expel through you both. It’s better than he’s ever imagined; mentally-created experience has nothing on the raw reality. Soft like silk, the honeyed aperture of your sex is eclipsed by his tanned thickness, barely shrouding a third of him, his tip twitching at your navel, and it’s a snapshot to behold. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he rasps, jaw locking before he reels you tighter and snaps his hips forward, rutting against your throbbing clit. It’s the match that starts the fire, a million sparks prickling all over that has him taking you like a madman. 

“S - Steve!” you cry, music to his ears, as he hooks his elbows under your knees, bending them over his shoulders, and works your divided folds up and down the length of his translucent-white dribbling cock. Your arms shoot around his neck desperately while you bury your face in his neck, mewling into his collarbone; the vibration unmistakably his name. 

“I am going to fuck you, doll,” he promises through gritted teeth, using his hands palming your ass to grind your little pussy into him harshly, at the same time his hips rock into the assault. “I am going to shove every inch of my cock inside you, make it fit if you can’t. But first—first, you’re going to cum on my cock then you’re going cum around it.” 

Your weight is nothing to his hulking strength, bouncing you in undulation like you’re his own personal fuck-toy (somewhere in that darker, aggressive facet of him chides that’s exactly what you are; a wanton toy to use to his desire). 

Every upward thrust is grating over your bundle of nerves, coaxing gush and gush of your essence. Mixed with his own liquid arousal, it further lubricates his slippery anatomy and empowers quicker ministrations—filling the room with your crescendos of whimpers and moans. 

“Y’like it when I make your pretty lil’ pussy grind against my cock? When the tip rubs over your soft clit?” he says, winded, in your ear as you shake like a leaf in the steel cage that is him. “Or d’you like knowing despite how bad I need to be balls-deep inside you I have to wait ‘cause your tiny pussy won’t be able to take it yet?” 

“Oh. God. Steve—” you moan, raking your nails into his flexing back muscles, and he revels in the faint sting. “I - I—it feels good. Fuck, it feels so good.”

Shocks needle down his spine and gnaw in his lower stomach while static nibbles at his limbs; a prelude to a knee-buckling reckoning. “Y’gonna cum for me, beautiful?” He can feel the tautness constricting in your body, the crook of your calves as your toes curl. “Want you to. Wanna know what’s gonna happen when you do?” He doesn’t wait for a response, especially when you’re borderline incoherent. “It’s gonna loosen you up for me. Get your pussy prepared to take all of my big, fat cock. And, you fuckin’ will. Y’hear me?” 

At that point, he’s unsure whether you nodded or not because your head does bob, but so does the rest of you. His neck muffles your cry as you buck wildly against him, and if that isn’t telling enough, he can feel your engorged nub pulsating with euphoria. 

And he can’t resist it. The threat of his violent upcoming orgasm; the fact that he knows your channel is clamping down hallowly; the earlier declaration of being able to handle him easily, it all overwhelms him. 

In a millisecond, before his mind comprehends what his instincts are doing, his hands slip from underneath your bottom to either side of your slit, and his thumbs spread your opening. He heaves you up, and when gravity brings you down, his well-endowed cock drives into your spasming insides. 

With an audible wet slush and slap of skin, he powers through your channel harshly until he’s seated to the hilt. In the throes of your orgasm—before he could stretch you first like he intended—inches that outwardly reached your belly button, width that dwarfed your mound  invades your walls in one blunt movement. 

The orgasm is still flooding you but it’s combined with the convulsions of vanquished hollowness and encompassing fullness. To be perfectly fucking honest, it’s heaven: snug, fervid heaven. And he wastes no time losing himself in you, fucking you through your stimulation while you’re rendered to a babbling mess.

“Oh - oh, my—Steve!” you squeal as your rubber-band-like resistance desperately tries to accommodate the intrusion of his size. “Big—you’re big—I didn’t realize you were so b - big—” 

“But you’re going to take it, aren’t you? Said you could, swore you’d handle me like no other before, right?” he croons and continues to decimate your swollen valley. “I told you you’d cum on my cock and around it, and that’s what you’re gonna do.” The order has your strangling heat fluttering in delight. “Unless you aren’t as big and bad as you claimed to be.” 

You gasp and cling tighter. “I can - I can,” you whimper, and it’s so cute—he can’t wait to fuck you until you pass out. “Just a minute. I can’t cum yet—n - not yet.” 

He laughs huskily because he knows he’s gonna to make you do exactly that. “Yeah, we’ll see about that, doll,” he practically purrs and cinches you closer so with each pass of his hips, your sensitive clit is chafing against his pubic bone; it has the intended effect of forcing your swollen walls to quiver around him.

“Shit,” you choke. “I can’t - I can’t—”

Motivated by your disbelieving insistence, he reaffirms his grip and pistons through your folds quicker. He ebbs deeper and deeper with the combination of his hips ramming in and his hands controlling your body so your channel swallows him all the way. 

Rising sensations pulse within him at an alarming rate, numbness climbing up his toes to cover him completely, encasing his nerves with an escalating bliss. In a minute, he’s going to blow and empty the contents of his balls into your never ending, clamping depths—and he can’t wait to see your reaction when he does, what it’ll look like to have his thick white dribbling out of you. 

That thought spurs him on, and he abruptly props you on the kitchen counter. There’s no break for your used pussy as he slithers a free hand to fist your throat, laying you flat against the cold granite.

“You are gonna cum for me,” he growls, voice unrecognizable with animalistic carnality. The sheening and flushed exertion on your face, the moans vibrating up your esophagus and the wriggle of your body is mesmerizing and provoking. “And you’re going to make me cum while you do it. Your tiny pussy is gonna milk my big cock until I’m flooding you full of me.”

He ruffles your shirt up and out of the way, giving him a glimpse of the single hottest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. As his hips jut back and forth, the indent of his bulbous tip prods visibly from your stomach; he can see himself bulging low in your belly. 

He releases the unholiest of groans as lightning zaps through him, tactfully shocking his pressure points while his blood pumps to his dick, and he swells bigger inside you. The temperature is boiling to the top, and when your warbling voice breaks into his haze, “Steve—Steve—Steve—!” his eyes snap open. 

His gaze drags further down, he’s greeted with the eyeful of your exploited mound: puffy and swollen from his unyielding, punishing onslaught, your clit peaking through faintly as if beckoning for his touch. Of course, he obliges you—he has zero idea how he managed to deny himself of you in the past. 

The second he thumbs at the little nubbin, you’re sobbing his name and squelching around his cock. In a domino effect, the lava blasts from the bottom of his gut to your enveloping convulsions; sheathed to the hilt, a visual ingrained in his memory of his cockhead pushing up inside your stomach, he pours all the mania he’s kept locked away into you. 

Riding out the wave, he watches how you cream around him when he retreats from you. A ring of clear white contrasts against your bruised sex and his tanned length, the mix of your essences oozing down his balls and onto the floor. 

“Fuck,” he says hoarsely. “That’s hot.” 

There’s a periodic twitch of you, and he glances up to see you staring at him, glossy-eyed but undoubtedly satisfied. “You. . . that was. . . God,” is all you manage, and pride blooms in his chest—at the fact that you kept up, and at the fact he did you good. “You’re amazing.” 

“You did good, doll,” he speaks roughly, the hand around your throat tracing your pulse. “I couldn’t have thought of a better way for this to have gone. . .” Despite his recent orgasm, there’s a hunger clawing back to the surface as he observes the way you’re splayed out like an offering, fucked to the point of limpness. “Or, to be going. . .” 

“S - Steve,” you whimper but it isn’t a protest, far from it, he can tell. 

So he continues to trail his hand to your clit, encircling it while you give a half-hearted bleat. He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip and maneuvers his hips until his growing semi is teasing your cum-dripping entrance. “Y’said you could handle me, doll,” he murmurs and promptly glides right back into you, and a wanton cry tears from your lips. “Let’s see how true that is.” 

[masterlist / feedback]

[beautifulblhell]

3AM

Summary: Being friends with the Haitani brother entails being dragged out at 3am

A/N: Happy birthday to the thirstiest hoe I know to the lady who leaves Akaashi at home while she goes out on bike rides with Rindou and Wakasa @ara-mitsue!!🥳🥳🎉 okay so originally I didn’t think I would be able to finish this in time, hence why I wrote that fic with Ana, but here’s your order of Haitani sandwhich with a glass of Wak- I mean, water to quench your thirst🥴 hope you have a wonderful day today, and may you be surrounded by ‘roses’ tonight in your dreams 🍆🍆🍆🤣

Stayed up to 4am to write most of this, and since it was fuelled by lack of sleep, I apologise if some parts failed to make sense (or the whole thing) p.s it was only meant to be a 1k Fic 🤡

Characters: Haitani Ran x Reader x Haitani Rindou (x a special guest)

Tags: fluff, crack, swearing

WC: 3k

Tap tap

You jerked awake, accidentally yanking off one of your earphones as the cable got caught in your sleeve. For a moment you tried to make sense of the disoriented world. Then you swore. You had fallen asleep at your desk. Spreadsheets and graphs sprawled across your desk. Just the mere sight of them sent a shudder through you. And to think you always thought homework was bad.

You pulled off your other earphone as you got up. You back ached like a bitch. You stretched, then gave up as the pain intensified.

So much for the job description of nine-to-five. Guess it was your fault for not reading the small print when you signed the contract. Probably printed on page six hundred and fifty two in size 0.5 font was where it entailed how much work you need to do even when you got back home.

Tap tap

The rocks hit your window harder.

You glanced at the little clock sitting on your desk. ‘3AM’ flashed across the dim blue screen. You sighed, then crossed the room to your window. You had hoped you only dreamed of the noise, but alas, ‘twas not the case.

“What took you so long?” Rindou’s pissed voice materialised from the night air the moment you opened your window. Hearing his words, you were tempted to slam the window in his face. The only thing that was stopping you was how hot he looked even under the harsh glare of the streetlights. Taking another eyeful wasn’t going to cost you anything.

He was standing below your room with a handful of pebbles in his hand, his head tilted up towards your room on the second floor. The front wheel of his motorcycle was parked smack bang in the middle of your mom’s prized flowerbeds. Someone is definitely going to get skinned alive when she finds out in the morning.

“The person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please leave a message after the window is closed.” you replied monotonously, your hand gripping the edge of the window frame, ready to lower it.

“Awww that’s no fun~” You looked towards the direction of the sing-song voice. The older Haitani brother was leaning on his motorcycle, which thankfully was parked at the sidewalk. His lips curved upwards when his lilac eyes raked over your dishevelled blouse.

You eyed suspiciously at the brick he was tossing absentmindedly. “What were you planning to do with that?”

“I wonder,” Ran mused, his eyes glinting with amusement. You had a feeling it would be what hit your window next if you hadn’t responded.

“It’s three in the morning.” The first three buttons of Ran’s shirt were open, and you finally managed to rip your eyes from him and glared at Rindou. “Are you trying to wake up the entire neighbourhood?”

Rindou blinked at you in confusion. “Who goes to sleep at three?”

“Oh, I don’t know, normal people?” You could feel a small headache starting to form. Common sense never seemed to apply to the Haitani brothers.

“Weaklings,” Rindou sniggered, and Ran nodded in agreement. You weren’t sure how both of them still managed to look so perfect without any sleep, while you looked like you crawled out from the depth of hell every time you pulled an all-nighter. Genes, probably. And the Haitani brother sure seemed to have received the best.

Ran turned to his brother with that same easy grin. “It’s like the scene in Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it? Our princess is looking down at you from the balcony. What’s your next line, Romeo?”

Rindou’s eyebrows twitched. Before he could make a snarky comeback, you cut in. “You’ve actually read Shakespeare, Haitani Ran? I thought reading was a foreign concept to you.” You’ve never seen Ran with a book in all the years you’ve known him.

“The movie. Never have or will read that,” he replied without an ounce of shame.

“Wow, love how you can admit that with a straight face and look so proud. It makes me feel bad for having read it.” You were pretty sure the only thing Ran read was the menu in restaurants. Or maybe he just pointed at the pictures and ordered those.

“Are you coming down or are you gonna continue to stay up there and chat? My neck’s straining.” Rindou had dropped his rocks and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“No, I quite like this view of looking down on you.” You peered dramatically down at him. Ran burst out laughing, and Rindou only answered with a scowl. His mouth moved indecipherably. Probably cursing.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where you are bringing me. Last time you took me to an abandoned house and scared the shit out of me.”

“Not this time, I promise.” Ran looked at you with much sincerity as he could muster, yet he couldn’t quite hide the glint of amusement in his purple eyes.

“That’s what you said last time as well.” You threw him an accusatory glare.

“If you don’t come down I’ll wake up the entire street.” Ran threatened.

“How?” You challenged back.

“I’ll…” Rindou trailed off.

“Break everyone’s windows?” Ran suggested unhelpfully.

“Yeah, if that is what it takes.” From the looks of their faces you knew they would stay true to their word. The Haitani brothers always got their way.

With a resigned shake of your head, you said, “Fine, but I need to get ready.��

“Just come down as you are, you always take hours to get ready,” Rindou groaned. You felt offended. You never took hours. Just… maybe yeah, an hour or so.

“As you can see, we didn’t bring a tent,” Ran gestured towards their motorcycles.

“I look like a mess,” you complained. You had slept in your work clothes and hadn’t even cleaned off your makeup. If you looked up in a dictionary for the word ��mess’ you are pretty sure you would find your picture pasted in there.

“A hot mess,” Ran smirked up at you, his tone taking on a flirtatious tone. And your heart responded with a quick double flip. Nice betrayal, you thought.

Rindou shrugged, “We’ve seen worse, like that time when you were studying for finals and were fueled purely by coffee-”

You grabbed the shoe box laying at the corner. Taking out a high heel, you threw it down at him. Luckily, your aim was spot on. It went flying at light speed towards your target. Unluckily, Rindou was quick to react. He dodged it before it stabbed him.

“What the fuck you crazy-”

“You saying something?” You held up the other high heels high in your hands. Rindou instantly clamped his mouth shut.

“A smart choice,” Ran mused at the side.

“You aren’t off the hook either,” you rounded on him. Ran lifted both of his arms in mock surrender.

“Just come down peacefully, will you? We aren’t trying to kidnap you.” Rindou rubbed the back of neck with a pained expression.

“More like blackmail. Can’t this wait? My parents are asleep, if I go down I’ll wake them up.”

“Then jump down, I’ll catch you.” He took a step back and held his arms wide open.

“I don’t trust the person who secretly ate all the ice cream, then filled the tub back with ice.” You folded your arms.

“Busted,” Ran grinned at his brother. “You thought she would never notice.”

“You ate some too,” Rindou snapped back. He turned back towards you. “Hurry up, my arms hurt.”

Seeing you still debating, Ran tossed the brick higher in the air.

Finally, knowing you could never win against them, you clambered on the window sill. You looked down below.

It wasn’t too high. Worst comes to worse, you’ll break a few bones. At least you can get a cast and ask for sick leave from work. Or your boss might just decide to fire you. So you closed your eyes and jumped, with the future of your job also hanging on the line.

Half of you were expecting Rindou to tumble down with you when he caught you. Instead, after falling weightless for a brief moment, strong arms caught you easily. When you opened your eyes, Rindou’s face was right next to yours. His sharp lilac eyes were gazing at you intently. He was way more handsome up close, and it took everything you had not to run your hand down his face.

He frowned slightly. “Have you been losing weight?”

You raised your eyebrows. “What are you, my personal scales? You should have told me earlier, then I wouldn’t have splashed out on that weight scale. Comes with the BMI measuring function too, can you do that?”

“No, but I know when and how much snacks you eat at night sometimes.” Rindou sniggered. You stuck your tongue at him before hopping off his arms. It was true, recently work has been stressful and you haven't been eating properly.

“Shall we get dinner afterwards then?” Ran smiled. It wasn’t a question.

“I’ll get fat if I eat so late at night,” you protested, already knowing it was a lost cause.

Rindou shrugged. “You could afford to eat more. You are way too thin.”

“Hmm what should we have,” Ran tilted his head towards the side, thinking.

“Dim sum,” Rindou instantly answered.

“I’m sure there are places that serve dim sum at three in the morning,” you said sarcastically.

Ran smiled lazily. “For us, yes.”

“So where are you kidnapping, you witches-”

Someone threw something over your head. “Hey!” You pulled it off. You were ready to throw it back when you saw it was Rindou’s jacket.

“Who in their right mind doesn’t bring a jacket when they come out at night?” Rindou spoke with his back to you. You didn’t miss the way the tips of his ears were slightly red.

“Well, who asks other people to go out with them at this hour?” You grumbled. You shoved your arms through his jacket. The smell of Rindou enveloped you completely, almost as if he was hugging you.

Ran had sauntered up. One of his gloved hands tilted your chin upwards and he gazed down at you with a smirk. “Hmm, maybe lovers?” He lowered his face down, and you could feel his breath against your lips.

You took a step back. “Is that why you and Rin were out so late? Whoops, my bad, didn’t mean to be a third wheel for you guys. Lemme go back-”

“Stop flirting,” Rindou shoved his way in between you. “Here, wear it.” He handed you a helmet.

“Someone’s jealous,” Ran sniggered.

Rindou ignored his brother. He sat on his motorcycle, then looked back at you expectantly. You sat behind him.

“She’s gonna sit behind me when we come back, won’t you, pretty girl?” Ran threw you a wink from his motorcycle. You rolled your eyes.

Rindou revved the engine and it came roaring to life. You wrapped your arms around Rindou’s waist. You could feel his firm muscles under his t-shirt.

“Rin?” You lifted your visor and called out to him, your chin rested on his shoulders.

“What?” He called back. He was gearing up the motor ready to drive.

“Did you work out more? Your abs are firmer.”

Rindou nearly crashed the motorcycle. Ran cackled so hard that he was nearly crying.

It took them a few minutes before they were able to drive.

Both motorcycles shot through the still night, sending howling winds screaming on either side of you. The headlights sliced through the darkness, lighting up the empty road in front of you. The scenery passed by in a blur, which spoke of the pace you were going at. You clutched Rindou harder.

Both of them never bothered to slow down, even at corners. In fact, they seemed to be speeding up. Gradually, more lights came twinkling into view, until they came to a stop at a place bustling with activity. Bright neon lights for all kinds of seemingly shady places hung off the buildings. It was a place that never slept.

The moment the people noticed the Haitani brother, they stopped and bowed. Some hurriedly scuttled away. However, Ran and Rindou didn’t seem to care. After they parked, Ran pulled loose his hair band. His long hair cascaded past his shoulders. He held his hair tie in between his teeth as he gathered his dark strands into a ponytail.

He smirked when he caught you looking at him.

“Trying to look perfect, Ran?”

“I always look perfect.” He pulled loose a few strands of hair. He really did. Not that you’ll ever admit it.

“Wow, someone’s ego sure is big. Don’t think the Earth is big enough for it.” You climbed off the motorcycle.

You walked in between them. Everyone gave them a wide berth. You always felt like a celebrity when you walked with them. Except people didn’t stare at celebrities with fear in their eyes.

“For the upteenth time, where are we heading-“

You tripped. How you trip over nothing is beyond you, but you do. You nearly gave Mother Earth a big kiss when a strong arm jerked you back.

“Owww,” you rubbed your shoulders that nearly got dislocated. “But thanks.”

“It’s amazing how you always manage to do that,” Rindou sighed. He grabbed your hands. “Shit why are your hands so cold?” He shoved your linked hands in his pocket.

Ran whistled at the side. “That was smooth, brother of mine.” He slipped one of his arms around your waist. “So you don’t trip,” he said with a smirk. Rindou snorted.

You came to a stop and a small door in an alleyway. You glanced around. There was no sign to indicate where you were. It could be a hideout for serial killers for all you know.

Rindou opened it without knocking. There was a staircase leading to the bottom. A terminally ill  lightbulb flickered overhead, providing almost no illumination.

“It looks like a staircase descending to hell,” you groaned.

“Exactly where we come from,” Ran answered cheerfully.

“The stairs are narrow, be careful.” Rindou went down first, but he didn’t let go of your hand.

You followed, groping your way down. One time you nearly missed your footing.

“I got you,” he muttered when you screamed. If he hadn’t been holding your hand tightly you were sure you would have tumbled down the stairs.

Once you reached the landing below, you were faced with a red curtain. Rindou pushed it apart. A bright light flooded into your eyes and you winced. Once your eyes adjusted, you recognised the furniture and equipment as a tattoo parlour.

A man with blonde and purple hair was in the centre of the room, preparing his equipment. He raised his head when you entered. He had droopy eyes, but there was a sharp glint in them. Your breath hitched. He was good looking. Wayyy too good looking.

“Heyyyyy Waka~” Ran threw open the curtains and came in behind you. “Here’s the little lady we told you about.”

The man called ‘Waka’ dropped his gaze to you and Rindou’s entwined hands. You quickly let go.

“You are late.” His voice was smooth. He spoke quietly, yet there was a steely undertone that spoke he wasn’t to be messed with.

“Sorry, sorry.” Ran laughed. You’ve never heard such an insincere apology in your life before. “It took a little convincing for her to come here.”

Ran placed a hand on your shoulders. He bent down until his face was next to yours. “This is Waka, Imaushi Wakasa. He’s the best tattooist here, no, in the whole of Tokyo. He’s pretty picky about his clients, and it took a good persuading for him to agree.”

“Sooooo why are we here? You want me to watch you and Rindou getting tattoos?”

“Getting matching tattoos, doll, all three of us.” Ran’s grin widened, his purple eyes glinting.

You stared at him open-mouthed.

Rindou laughed at your shell-shocked expression.

“Excuse me? You brought me out here for this? And you didn’t even ask me?”

“We’ll show you the design if you like,” Ran said.

“Afterwards,” Rindou finished with a snigger.

You groaned.

“Ladies first,” Ran gestured. You glanced at Wakasa who was lowering the tattoo chair until it was completely flat.

“Wait, hold on, where is this tattoo gonna be?”

Rindou tapped the base of your spine with a smirk.

“Are you kidding?!” A tattoo right on the spine is gonna hurt like hell.

Wakasa looked at you. His sharp gaze seemed to pierce right through you. “If she doesn’t want it then I won’t do it.”

“Do it for us, doll?” Ran peered into your face. He ran his thumb over the bottom of your lip. The corner of his mouth curved upwards. His smirk was irresistible, and he knew it. You could feel Rindou gazing at you too, and a third pair of eyes staring at your back.

“Fine,” you relented with a sigh. You’ve always wanted a tattoo anyway. Just maybe not so early in the morning. You untucked your blouse and gathered it at your waist. You heard Wakasa snap on his gloves. At least the tattoo artist was hot.

Ran and Rindou sat on either side of you as you laid face down. You clutched both of their hands.

“I think our hands are going to get mauled today, little brother.” Ran chuckled seeing how tightly you were squeezing them already.

“Take off your gloves,” you scowled at Ran. If you were going to be hurting then both of them can at least share your pain.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl.” He smiled. He held your gaze, then, he brought his gloved hand up to his mouth, before biting the middle finger of his glove, and pulled it off with his teeth. It dropped into his lap. His smirk deepened when he saw you swallow. You averted your gaze with a huff. Cold fingers weaved through yours. Ran’s hands were always colder than Rindou’s. You gripped both of them tightly.

“It’s gonna be worth it,” Rindou answered with a grin.

You sure hoped so.

Masterlist | Support | 2021.11.06

[poursomesunaonme]

Hi Beanie!!! I love your stuff and I saw your kink ask thing and thought it was cool!

Not sure if you are still doing the kink ask things! But what do you think about Jean or Porco with 1 and 37 ?

omg i love this<3333 twas so fun babe

send me a character and 1-2 numbers & i'll write you a little drabble !

wc: 526

cw: cucking, breeding, cervix kissing, exhibitionism?

you had really been apprehensive about porco’s feelings concerning the situation he proposed. it seemed odd to you. it’s not like you yourself felt uncomfortable with it - if anything, you liked to show off for your man - but you had no idea if he was really on board with the whole thing.

that is, until, it happened.

jean doesn’t fuck you like porco does. and, well, you certainly don’t mean to compare, but he was hitting those hard to reach spots with that length of his. but his movements are deeper, more sensual, whereas porco ruts into you like a bitch in heat.

the latter watches from beside the bed, watching as jean strokes smoothly into your warmth. you don’t want to moan, don’t want to give porco any indication that you’re enjoying your time with jean more than your time with him. but it’s getting to be too much.

a moan escapes your lips when jean’s tip kisses your cervix, the curve of his length slowly rubbing against your g-spot. from the corner of your half-lidded eyes, you see porco shudder when the sound reaches his ears. but instead of being pissed off about it, as you assumed he might be, he opts for taking his cock out to stroke himself rather than do it over his pants like you had seen him do earlier.

“you close?” jean whispers. sweat drips down his chin and splatters on your chest. he stoops down and licks it off, much to your delight. it didn’t break the no-kissing rule, so you were perfectly fine with it.

you look over at porco before answering. his face contorts, but not with anger, watching your body shift over and over with the force of another man’s hips. in fact, you realize that he’s actually enjoying it.

“mmhm,” you groan, locking eye contact with porco. jean’s pace begins to speed up, and you keep watching porco as his cock becomes harder and heavier in his hand. you don’t look at jean when you ask the next question. “will you cum in me, jean?”

he doesn’t even answer, just lets out a rasping breath before lifting your legs over one of his broad shoulders. your hips lift off the bed, providing a deeper angle for his cock to penetrate you. you cry out at the new sensation, at how his cock throbs in you, and eventually, how you cum together.

porco lets out groan at the creamy ring painted across jean’s cock, at how jean swivels you around when he’s finished pumping into you to reveal his cum seeping out of you.

that’s when your sweet porco is pushed over the edge. you part your legs, letting the shaking limbs fall to the bed to create a view of your man. jean’s cum is sticky and warm as it drips down the crease of your ass, and porco watches it, wishing that it was his own as he cums into his fist. you help him clean himself up, of course, and then let his cock be lubed with jean’s creamy essence as he pushes into you to take you for yet another ride.

© all work belongs to poursomesunaonme. do not copy and repost.

[clover-the-awesomest]

YESSS I GET TO DO THIS TOO THANKS FOR THE TAG

Okay! So, uh…

How many hours on Spotify: idfk honestly! I haven’t checked since Wrapped was like. The big thing of the year lol and I’m too lazy to check atm. Definitely over a thousand, though.

Favorite smell: I don’t really know… Maybe the smell of sugar cookies or peanut-butter cookies being made? Or like the previous tagged said, vanilla extract? I really like the smell of sweets I guess. (Nothing too sweet or coconut-ish though)

Wtf are you good at making in the kitchen: Mac and cheese. Like. Box Mac and cheese. I can make it in the microwave and in a pot and add extra butter and milk and that is literally it. I need help if I wanna make literally anything else.

Favorite cereal: Honey-nut Cheerios. Without a doubt. I like Cinnamon Toast Crunch as well but not in the milk.

Ever broke the furniture? What’s the story behind that: Oh yeah! I’ve broken quite a few valuable glass items over the years. The most memorable one though was this pretty old car that my grandfather made, and when my parents went out for dinner, my lil bro and I were roughhousing and we broke it… I hid in my room the entire day after that… It was not fun.

If you got a Guiness World Record, (Which I never actually will) what would it be for: Being the world’s biggest motherfucking idiot.

Can you ride a bike: HELL NAH! I fell off my bike ONCE when I still used TRAINING WHEELS and I never rode a bike ever again afterwards. Twas scarred for life apparently.

What do you normally wear in the house: Whatever I’m wearing in the house I guess. Eh, if I choose an outfit for school I only change into something more comfortable when I go to bed because it’s not worth changing my clothes 3 times a day for no reason. I just got this super oversized and super soft hoodie though, so whenever I come home after school I FUCCIN BOLT FOR THAT THING. Been wearing it a lot more since I’m done with school for the year! 🥰

Comfort character: Donnie from Rise (wow how original 🙄) and both Sonic the Hedgehog and Espio the Chameleon from SEGA (He’s more like the character I kin the most despite him being a goddamn ninja idk how the fuck he’s both my comfort character and the one I kin this bitch is a deadly lethal motherfucker yet he’s the most relatable wtf)

3 items to describe yourself with: Uhhhhh… Mac and cheese… Super big hoodies… And sketchbooks…? Yeah, that works I guess.

Okay that was a lot of fun! I am also blanking when it comes to people I know so I’ll just tag the first people that come to mind:

@tangledinink @wanderfan2000 @friccafracc @faecaptainofdreams

Random tag game!

Tag as many mutuals/people as you want! No pressure Spotify users, how many hours on spotify wrapped this year: Favorite smell: Any kind of meals you can make?: Favorite kind of cereal?: You ever broken a piece of furniture? What's the story if so?: If you got a guinness world record, what would it be?: Know how to ride a bike?: Outfit/attire style in the house?: Outfit/attire style in public?: Comfort characters!!: 3 items that would describe you best: Tags: @largefound @italic-does-random-shit @rushin-safire @wishtale-blogs @c00kietin @sleepyystarchild @ideaarts @flooffydergen @iamunabletothinkofablogname @crazed-rambler @godofautism @still-got-no-idea get pinged bozos (no pressure) oh and anyone else who wants to join in is free to!

[nimbus713]

i went to see wakanda forever and asked my sister to borrow a sweater since all my clothes were in the washer, and i grabbed one that i’ve seen her wear before and it’s really cute grandpa core ya know so i went upstairs and waited for a ride while she was in the kitchen baking so i assumed she saw what i was wearing

when i got to the theatre my friend looked at me and said “where did you get that” and i was like “oh it’s [sister’s]” and his girlfriend looked at me and said “no that’s [sister’s girlfriend’s]”

and they made a joke about it being passed down a line but i spent the whole movie slightly awkward because of it. it probably would’ve been worse but like i’m good friends with her gf (really she’s not quite her gf but they’re basically there so this is easier) so it wasn’t horrible

i got home and my sister was in bed already but she asked what sweater i wore and i was said like apparently b’s why did you let me leave. and apparently this bitch was so focused on making eclairs she didn’t notice

anyways it was kinda funny but now i’m sad cause i can never steal that sweater again

also ‘twas a great movie everyone should go see it

[sagamemes]

quotes from tabletop games, part i.   thank you to whomever decided in the first game i was in to start collecting quotes being said during the table—here’s a sentence meme featuring 100 sentences that have been said out loud or written down during various tabletop roleplaying games i’ve acted as a game master for, or in conversations surrounding it. sentences edited to fit written roleplay better. it’s a mixed bag, y’all. tw:  implied sexual content and jokes, death and violence mentions.

❝  holy shit, /i'm/ the professional in this situation.  ❞

❝  i don't think there's a lot of water in her birth chart.  ❞

❝  you know how much I love goading you into bad decisions.  ❞

❝  [i/you] did faceplant.  ❞

❝  i hope you know this is all your fault, [name].  ❞

❝  wouldn't it be nice if you could bite it back?  ❞

❝  [person] could've bonked the knob to death.  ❞

❝  a little bit of making out in the cupboard is not a security threat.  ❞

❝  no-one else can see it, but [person] is definitely being haunted by an ex-girlfriend.  ❞

❝  she's a new yorker, leave her alone  ❞

❝  we've all known each other for about four hours and we're making goblins of ourselves.  ❞

❝  you’re laughing!  [name] is dead and you’re laughing!  ❞

❝  god, what a weird little man!  ❞

❝  i don't speak [fandom/media].  ❞

❝  because, of course, you don't immediately run out of blood in your head—  ❞

❝  technically shoes are skin without feet.  ❞

❝  if it helps, she does have a youtube channel.  ❞

❝  should we even play d&d, maybe we just do therapy instead.  ❞

❝  oh great, what can i do with a dead body?  ❞

❝  the man with no face is just a raccoon.  ❞

❝  or whatever the victorian equivalent of reaching into the fridge and grabbing a block of cheese.  ❞

❝  i do not acknowledge more men than i need to.  ❞

❝  he footless because he got paws.  ❞

❝  [i am/they are] intrigued by the bundle of scarves.  ❞

❝  i thought she landed on her wrists?  ❞

❝  i'm glad i didn't faceplant, at least.  ❞

❝  it is not resistant to bonk damage.  ❞

❝  my interpersonal skills are shit!  ❞

❝  is he made of bees?  ❞

❝  oh well, she's got one of those as well.  ❞

❝  —which is objectively the wrong way to eat books.  ❞

❝  no teeth, no feet. simply vibes.  ❞

❝  we're going to have to listen to soft ballet while we fight this thing.  ❞

❝  that was my third frowny face.  ❞

❝  puff puff pass but instead of getting high you have a coherent thought  ❞

❝  oh yeah, i killed your neighbour, didn't i?  ❞

❝  we're city kids, we know what traffic is.  ❞

❝  give me a gay vibe check.  ❞

❝  THE QUEEN IS MICE.  ❞

❝  doesn't matter which of us die because i'll see you all again on hell.  ❞

❝  you know how when a person's decapitated—  ❞

❝  i don't even have my eyebrows on.  ❞

❝  we will create chaos.  ❞

❝  i heard g-string.  ❞

❝  i have a masters degree in library science and i googled  ‘ feetless man ’ !  ❞

❝  am sad. want ham.  ❞

❝  you are the most powerful person in the room with that cheese tray.  ❞

❝  you'll wake up to something you don't wanna see  ❞

❝  buff mice.  ❞

❝  —but it would've been a sexy thing to do.  ❞

❝  THE GAME'S OVER! THE GAME'S OVER! WHY ARE YOU STILL DOING THIS TO ME?  ❞

❝  it’s mice mentality.  ❞

❝  i know the implication was not that we were little beans but shh...  ❞

❝  it's your turn!  ❞

❝  charlie's angels, more like [name]'s headaches  ❞

❝  it's me, the bitch who failed  ❞

❝  i'm really good at that! ... no, i'm not.  ❞

❝  i love this absolutely doomed party.  ❞

❝  unless someone wants to try to overpower two peasants.  ❞

❝  we don't make good leather.  ❞

❝  you could definitely be mistaken for a respectable person now.  ❞

❝  unfortunately, my alibi is dead  ❞

❝  you would not think that english was my first, and frankly my only, language.  ❞

❝  what the fuck happened to my music?  ❞

❝  [name], that's gay behaviour.  ❞

❝  i truly just want u to imagine putting a hand on a titty and feeling a sack of dust through the skin.  ❞

❝  we've conspiracy theory'd this ghost and now it's a feral raccoon.  ❞

❝  does the number of heads you have factor into how easy you are to hit?  ❞

❝  i wanna do something weird.  ❞

❝  are you trying to reason with a drugged cat?  ❞

❝  what die do i roll? the one with numbers?  ❞

❝  i'd avoid plants if i were you.  ❞

❝  i want to be the burger king of a ruined world.  ❞

❝  just because i can be charming doesn't mean i will initiate conversation.  ❞

❝  that scream didn't have an american accent.  ❞

❝  i guess he was just two horses in a trench coat in the end  ❞

❝  make meth, i dare you!  ❞

❝  holy shit, you read french?!  ❞

❝  i've already put down two frowny faces on my notes.  ❞

❝  [person/animal] doesn't have good stamina, actually.  ❞

❝  we've established that the bees are trustworthy, [name]!  ❞

❝  i can't find the fucking d!  ❞

❝  frostbite'll do that to you too. you're not so special.  ❞

❝  we laugh in the face of a vengeful god  ❞

❝  sorry, but for the sake of the mission, i gotta drown everyone.  ❞

❝  i don't know anything about... men.  ❞

❝  i didn't consider all the emotional implications!  ❞

❝  it's a little known fact, but the h in  ‘ goth ’  stands for hrt.  ❞

❝  thank you for giving me an opportunity to murder you.  ❞

❝  don't worry, i'm a very gentle dom  ❞

❝  i'm gonna stay riding it, then.  ❞

❝  just two dudes who may or may not have done a murder  ❞

❝  you can't even count on [name] for numbers.  ❞

❝  'twas the night before christmas and all through the house not a person was stirring, because they were all dead.  ❞

❝  how is that rat bastard looking?  ❞

❝  maybe [name], because he has rights  ❞

❝  maybe [name], because he has no brain  ❞

❝  i'm cruel but i'm not an asshole.  ❞

❝  we're just two cartoon dogs vibing in the fire.  ❞

❝  in the spanish dub, [person a] and [person b] kissed before [person a] left  ❞

[nathanielaaron]

The Kenosha Kid 🎶

Twas the Night Bfore Christmas

So the story begins..

Bout the legend of Legends

and how this all ends..

So pull up a stump..

Sit back for a while..

Gonna tell you the tale

bout a boy named Kyle.

See Kyle was a troop

Though he never did know it

Heart of a warrior

They thought he would blow it

Well They chased young Kyle

Through the mean city streets

kicking and punching

No room for retreat..

(Chorus) 🎵

Nailed the thief through his fuckin arm, shot the pedo in his dick..

Then Kyle dropped the strangler with a shot so fuckin slick..

Nailed the bastard in his ass and blew his lungs to shit,

then told the cops come get me boys

The Kenosha Kid Hat trick! 🎶

an Army of Libs

wielding skateboards and knives..

Burning and looting

Not caring who dies

One pulled a gun

Pointed at Kyle..

The moment he did

He learned a new style

The whole world watched

as Kyle made his case..

Prosecution was Botched

and the lib lies raced

4 fucking days

til the verdict came down..

Crime never pays

This is our fucking town

(Chorus)

Your boys all brought toys..

Your Chicks all have dicks..

You made too much noise

Ignored the wrong clicks

Wadn't no camera

Now picture the scene..

It was Rittenhouse safety

and an AR15

No Christmas for you

I saw what you did

and this time Ol Santa

Rides with the Kid

So fuck all you bitches

and the lies that you tell

Kyle got your riches

and you goin to hell

(Chorus)

The whole fucking world

Saw whatchoo did

Thats why we named him

The Kenosha Kid

So The legend lives on

Better hide while you can

The Kenosha Kid's comin..

and Trump is Da MAN!

© -Doug Kendig Nov 20,2021 (because)

[beyonettta]

Tell us about your sexc dream with Ryuji

KAY SO (excuse me and my whack ass memory) this is the most embarrassing dream i had to explain (it was better in my head than in text) but it was sexy too

so like, i was an extremely close friend with akira/protagonist/joker, whatever you wanna call him and then one day at like, an amusement park or some sort (something like universal studios park) we went into like a fucking funhouse/haunted maze together (apparently it starts off as your usual funhouse, then it escalates real quickly and then it'll scare your guts out to the point "where you'd be crying for your mama") so our man ryuji happened to be like a crew member(or whatever tf u call it) for this maze, to like, scare bitches. so like, we've finished the fun house part and now shit started to go down. so like i was doing okay until out of nowhere—the baby killer mask thing from happy death day shows up (do not show me that shit please, even as a "joke" or whatever. that's like one of my triggers and it makes me panic and uneasy.)

nd then i started to panic™ and run as fast as i could. mfker akira had to catch up with me since i went nyooom! i did not know where tf i went but thankfully my g akira showed up. so he's like: "bro r u ok? i saw you running for ur life" and then i was like "nigga do i look ok 😐" so he apologized. for the rest of the maze it was pure awkward silence between the both of us (twas finished thankfully)

then after like—going to the one ride that akira liked for the umpteenth time, we met ann and futaba coming from a photo booth, so like we stayed with each other and went to have lunch at the food court.

now...the moment we've all been waiting for...

so futaba and i were hamming down on infinite breadsticks, that's when the man of the hour came at our table, and i was shook cause like—this random dude starts talking to akira, ann and futaba like they know each other(but duh becky🙄) until he noticed me, he was looking at me as if he saw me before and he was like: ":0 pog, whose ur friend renren?" nd akira was like "........this is xavi...he's an old friend"

i was like:

and then he was like: "that's some badass name, love the outfit btw" and then my ass was internally squealing. so he joins in because "he finished his job for the day" (it's true) and then we all went on other attractions, and took some sexy ass pics.

AND THEN OUR G RYUJI AND I DID SOME FRUITY CRIMES and got mistaken for a couple

nd then it was sunset, ann and futaba said their goodbyes (they invited me to explore the city next week) so like, we start talking about our interests, thoughts on akira, shit and then he brings up the fact that he saw me before in the funhouse/haunted maze

i was like:

"bitch where"

"...i scared you bro. you ran off and i really felt bad, so i was relieved when i saw you, but i didn't get time to apologize :("

my ass is still confused so i'm just like: 🗿🕴🏿

"i had on a...baby mask"

and then that's when it clicked for me, but he started apologizing a shitton and how he was sorry for bringing it up if it triggered me, it was cute. i accepted the apology and then we started to walk back to the neighbourhood. then we entered an ice cream parlour and unironcially, we got the same flavors (salted caramel), and then we walked to his home! the himbo (beloved) forgot he didn't know where i lived. i told him that i lived a few streets down, and he didn't had to worry since it wasn't that far

he was like: "phew, thank god, but do u want me to walk you home though?" that's when was had a little shoujo manga moment,

until we got FUCKING INTERRUPTED-

turns out we left akira in the amusement park, all alone. there was a cutscene to him standing in the rain, getting soaked, while on the phone and he was all like:

but alas, we both exchanged numbers and he winked at me saying "see ya, it was nice hanging with you ^-^"

boy i was stammering

but yeah, that basically sums up the dream

it's kind of embarrassing to say out loud, but it was a decent dream (and cheesy)

[momowho34]

Favorite things with theon in them that actually fucking happen in the books but could easily be something made up in a shitpost:

Roose Bolton, riding through the woods with Theon: ah well you know, ramseys a bit of a handful, but bastard sons murder their half brothers and sadistically torture people all the time, it’s normal. Boys will be boys, y’know?

Theon, staring: .....for the sake of my health I’m not going to comment on that actually

================================

Theon: listen, I’ve really hacked this subservience thinks, there is not a single rebellious bone in my body, I’m sure of that now. Anyway I totally belong to Ramsay (also known as the rat bastard son of a bitch that I would fucking stab right in the jugular if I got the chance god I hate him so much wish I could wring his stupid fucking neck and punch the goddamn smile off his face, I fucking hope he dies in a fire I hope his own dogs tear him to pieces) and will no longer resist anymore. No rebellious thoughts here, no sir, Ramsey’s the best and everything is fine :) :)))) :)))))))))

=================================

Theon: gee I sure do wonder why Ramsay is the way he is. I’m sure I’ll never know

Theon after spending a few minutes with Ramsay and Roose Bolton in the same room: ah yes. ‘twas just good old daddy issues. Huh. Of course

=================================

One of the ladies in the Bolton household, ordered by Roose: so this is what’s become of Theon Greyjoy, huh? Alright let’s get you cleaned up and looking well again.

Theon: *nervous laughter* ah yes, ma’am it appears you have mistaken me for an actual human being which I, in fact, am not. I do not do the baths or the physical appearance or the taking care of myself in any capacity, so if you need me I will be sitting on the floor and trying to get Not Tortured by Ramsay when he comes back for me. Have a good day :]

=================================

Theon, reminiscing at the big ole tree in winterfell: there are ghosts in winterfell, and I am one of them...

Mance Rayder’s girls in disguise, holding a knife to theon’s throat: don’t move or we’ll kill/maim you!!!

Theon, pausing, slowly and fully turning around and leaning into the blade at his throat, deadass staring the girl in the eye while saying in his most sarcastic, venom laced voice without a hint of fear: oh no. I’m so scared. This is definitely the worst thing that has ever happened to me, ever. I am quivering. Absolutely shaking in my boots. Positively scared for my life rn, I have never been more scared then I am right now. I had no idea this level of fear was even a thing. Can’t believe it. Shaken for life. I may never feel safe again. You have broken me. I am forever changed. So much worse then the time my fingers and toes were severed and my dick got cut off, so terrified.

Mace Rayder’s girls, seriously considering backing away slowly and never coming back: ..........okay, what the absolute 100% fuck???? ??????? Are- are you okay? Did- this was definitely not what I expected your reaction to be.

Theon, leaning closer to the blade, whispering: do it bitch I fucking dare you-

=================================

Mance Rayder: *flings the door open to Jeyne’s room so they can escape with her* okay theon get your girlfriend and then we can- oh my gods what the fuck happened to her?!?! What the fuck?!?!?!?!?? What the fuck?!?!?!??!!?!!?!?!

Jeyne Poole, in the corner, covered in blood and clearly devoid of sanity, rocking back and forth and barely still alive: *mutters some creepy shit incoherently*

Theon, not remotely effected at all, effortlessly picking Jeyne up and carrying her: don’t worry about it let’s go she’s fine

One of Mance Rayder’s girls: Why is there blood everywhere??!?!?? What happened here?!?!??!

Theon, shrugging: oh you know garden variety sadistic torture and dehumanization and depersonalization and general fuckery of mind and body and if I know Ramsay,, (and boy do I know Ramsay) also probably some form of mutilation to a degree. honestly, been there done that got the t-shirt and came out the other side, I’ll deal with it and hopefully get better but that’s only if we manage to get out of here so for fucks sake leTS GO-

=================================

Asha, watching Theon straight up materilize out of the woods near stannis’s army carrying a girl random girl: what the fuck???? Theon?????? Is that you?????? What the fuck are you doing here????????????

Theon, missing significantly less teeth then when Asha last saw him: sup bitch guess who’s back hehe didn’t see this comin’ didya???

[friiday-thirteenth]

right right right c a m p

ok. ok so it was very long and I'm unbelievably tired but also my head says write it down so uh

day one- five hour bus ride. it was fun, bc the person I was sitting beside slept the whole time and I got to joke around with the guys, who were surprisingly chill. they only brought up p*rn once, which is like.... good for them all things considered lmao

then we had the tramp in. the campsite where we were staying at the first night was the farthest from base, and one group biked in while the other tramped.

my groups tramp took s i x h o u r s. no other groups went over five. we had to keep stopping bc a) one kid was feeling sick, b) one kid rolled her ankle and c) we weren't allowed to sprint off into the Bush and potentially die without an instructor with us.

so there were like, four of us who were constantly at the front, and they were: me, my crush, my crushes best friend, bitch-who-bullied-me.

twas interesting.

we got the campsite in the dark, after a river crossing in which my socks got soaked, as did my shoes, and the tents and food were already sorted for us so that was great. food was shit, though. mince that was half brown water and cold pasta.kept us going, though, and as became my motto throughout camp, food is food.

that night was the only time I cried. kinda sad, tbh, but it was bc on the 'girls' side (as we all know that if the boys and girls tents were together, absolutely everyone would just be going at it, of course (jfc they have a low opinion of year tens (we sorta deserve it though, stuff happened with last years year tens...))) everyone else was paired up and even the people in three person tents didnt want me in there 🥰🥰🥰🥰 really felt the love there, guys.... jokes on them I slept by myself each night and was ready within five minutes each morning. actually really glad they showed how much they didnt care abt me bc it was really nice being alone in the wilderness, and that's not sarcasm.

anyway. day two.

woke up, was ready within ten minutes bc I woke with the leaders, who wake ten minutes before we're meant to and get themselves and breakfast ready before we're up. (I'm really fast at waking up, but take ages to go to sleep. like, everyone has to stfu before my body's able to start shutting down, and as soon as there's people moving around I'm up like a shot.)

anyway. I had eaten breakfast and was washing up before anyone else came out. next kid out was my crush, and we bitched about people taking forever for a while, which was fun.

then we waited for ages for everyone else to get sorted out, blah blah blah, and we had the bike ride back. 11.5 kilometers, I think,mostly downhill for us.

it was fun! I'm not a brilliant biker, but I kept near the middle-front of the group, and i just. let go of the brakes going downhill. and these hills were bloody steep and gravelly, plus the dips and river crossings.

I didnt fall off the bike, but one kid did lmao. there was this sharp turn before a metal gate, and He saw the gate and started pulling kn the brakes, but he hit the front brakes and just. flipped. the bike crashed into me and he went to the ground.

it was funny in the afterwards, but the kid got rather grazed lmao. he's not dead though, so that's good.

we were at the campsite that was, in my opinion, the coldest that night. also I slept in a three person instead of a two person, and by myself that meant more body heat was going into the tent. brrr. but we also did the nightline activity(hold onto a rope and follow it through the dark forest while blindfolded and with a helmet on. highly recommend it. go do it with friends u trust lmao)

I was behind this slow kid and he tripped at one point so I just. went ahead of him. then I spent around half an hour walking through the dark by myself (I walked into five trees. each time I took a step back, glared at it through the blindfold fifty five seconds and then continued around it with a muttered bitch. I'm nothing if not dramatic.) before I crashed into my crush hehe. it was near the end and we just got to the end at the same time, where two others already were. it was chill, we talked for a while. bullied people who were going through it by whacking trees they were near with sticks and shaking the line as they tried to use it. (we were allowed to, dw)

the next day, we went canyoning and holy frick frack fuckedy fuck fuck, that was c o l d. freezing. I jumped into the water and nearly died (exaggerated) but my crush jumped through a fricken waterfall and couldnt feel his hands or feet for ten minutes. another kid was walking funny bc he'd waited in the water for five minutes, and this shit was cold enough that we were wearing wet suits and thermals.

once we were dry and dressed (we got to have showers. h e a v e n (I only took 10 seconds bc like, why tf would you need a longer one? people took fifteen minutes, like wtf)) we went rock climbing! which was brilliant, honestly. I liked the belaying more (I've got this thing where I prefer people trust me than me trusting them, hmmm I wonder why) but also climbed the hardest one! it was really fun, and I only fell like fourteen time at one point (lmao,the rope caught me each time but I looked like a fuvking idiot hehe)

then we slept at a campsite which had a fire kn the beach!! if was so much fun. we also did a solo, which involved us sitting in the wild for twenty minutes and reflecting upon camp. I lay on the ground and stared at the moon. it was lovely and peaceful, until two kids started talking.

side note, guys voices are lovely and deep and rumbly and very nice (in general) but girls are generally higher pitched and ugh, it can be v e r y bloody annoying when ur trying to contemplate life.

possums visited camp that night. woke up in the middle of it to a possum crashing into the side if my tent, and I just. stopped breathing for a minute while I listened to it. a possum growling sounds terrifying. look it up!

also heard cows that night. cows are good.

day four, we abseiled. holy s h i t, it was fun. just... sitting there and watching the river and and rock and dangling in midair.... god, I loved it.

then we went to the high ropes course. this was b r i l l i a n t. we'd done low ropes st some point, but high ropes involved more belaying, which involved, and then at one point, we did a thing called the leap of faith, which was around eight meters high and you climbed to the top of this cylinder of wood before jumping for a trapeze. I knew I wouldn't get it, so I jumped on two when they counted down for me, and I missed lmao. but it was bloody brilliant.

then we had to do a whole shitton of cleanup,which they don't normally get groups to do, but we were s p e c i a l (as in our school gets to clean things we dont even use, sigh) before camping one last night. I had go share with someone, it was gell, packed up at least four tents in the morning bc I was very good at that for some reason,before we hot back to camp and went to the bus and oh, that was brilliant.

I finished my book, chatted with the guys, chatted with my crush for .5 of a second, had that thkng happen where people see you talking to a guy and are like ooOOooohhHHHHHhhh they're dAtiNG bc we're all stupid year tens and it was fucking hilarious (I've never dated anyone, so peopke bloody obsess over pairing me up with someone and I'm just like??? fuckers I'ma child how abt no (sidenote there was a couple on camp and they were cute but uh. year ten relationships dont really last, according to my year 13 camp leader (she was chill af, and basically showed me a whole new perspective on being friends with guys and so in conclusion she's bloody brilliant))) anyway they came up with a ship name for me and the guy and I nearly pissed myself laughing bc its best to laugh along with it and it was really funny tbh

anyway. we also for some reason talked abt sex and porn a lot and it was weird but also kinda chill bc most of the boys are relatively respectful of the girls,in the sense that we all make dirty jokes to each other but don't cross the line, so it was pretty funny and chill. also guys apparently never stop making dick jokes and that type of shit and it was kinda funny tbh

then we got home, grabbed our shit, and legged it away from there.

now I'm gonna rant abt my crush hehe

he was like, oh who's this? when we were walking to dinner in the dark one night (I was in front of him and his friend and he couldn't see my face) and then fucking knew who I was from the way that I walked like mate, why tf do you know how i walk and how to describe it, hmm?

I flipped him off after he said that though it was fucking funny

also!! he just. stared at my eyes and was like, are your eyes different colors? and I was like yeah. and he just nodded slowly and we maintained eye contact for a while. twas weird.

we have staring contests a lot too?? like, he'll look at me or I'll look at him and then at one point he was like, you just stare at people and then tilt ur head, dont you! and I was like wtf dude,but also I kept eye contact bc its a Thing.

also on the bus ride home he just mimicked my facial expressions and it was really bloody funny and j broke out laughed and he smiled

yeah basically I'm hopelessly crushing on him bc he's smart and sarcastic but it never gonna happen so I just wanna be friends type thing. sigh.

ANYWAY. camp was kinda great, at some points it left me feeling like I was so bloody alone and also I felt really shitty mentally but I kept going and i really enjoyed it! yeah! also i nearly cried when i said goodbye to my instructors bc they were brilliant and I'm gonna miss them so bloody much, I'm sad I'll never see them again.

yeah.

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

All Those Things They Couldn’t Say - A Runaway Baudelaires AU

{ao3} {tumblr} {masterlist}

Chapter Thirty-Three - We begin the hunt for the Bastard

“Esmé will have alerted Olaf to where we are by now, so the city’s not safe.” Violet said. 

They still sat on the dusty floor of the nursery, but this time they were all at full attention. They’d slept in the old master bedroom, taking turns keeping watch and spreading themselves out on the bed, Sunny curled up on a pillow and unaware that she was not to be awoken for a watch. Now, though, it was time to plan, and as Violet had wandered her way back to the nursery, almost in a trance whenever the music box was played, they’d decided to figure everything out there. 

“Klaus, map me.” Violet said. 

Klaus reached into his bag, handing out a map of the city they’d managed to grab upon entering the other day. He spread it out, and as Violet dropped coins onto the sides to weigh it down, he started charting the surrounding area. 

“If we’re going to find Olaf and not get caught,” Klaus said, “We need to figure out where he’s going to be, beat him there, and then kill him before he can kill us.” 

“Sounds good.” Isadora nodded. 

“Lousy Lane is here,” he said, “But Olaf won’t think we’d go back there, and VFD could be swarming the place.” 

“Could we get VFD’s help?” Duncan asked. “I know they suck, but they seem to hate Olaf, too. Maybe we could make a temporary alliance.” 

“You’re forgetting, dear Duncan,” Violet said, “That they don’t know we exist, they hate our parents, and you two are definitely targets for them. Any association with them will not end well.” 

“I guess.” Duncan said, considering. 

“But,” Klaus said carefully, staring at the corner of the map, “Duncan may have just given me an idea.” 

“What?” 

“How about he head this way?” 

He then pointed to a spot, several miles outside the city, literally marked VFD. 

“Seriously, Klaus?”  Violet asked. 

“They have their headquarters on a fucking map?” Isadora asked. 

“It’s probably not a headquarters,” Violet sighed, “But an outpost of some kind. They’re idiotic, but not that obvious.” 

“But,” Klaus said, “There are no surrounding towns. Looks like an isolated spot. So anything that happens there- well, we can be sure Olaf can’t run and hide.” 

“Neither could we.” 

“Which is why we get there first.” 

“Lure him there.” Isadora suggested. “Make sure he knows where we’re going and get there first. Then set a trap.” 

“And boom! He’s a dead son of a bitch.” Duncan said. 

“And likely he’ll bring our parents with him.” Klaus said. “Once they’re out, they can take care of you two.” 

“Could be risky.” Violet said. 

“Losi,” Sunny said, which meant, “And where’s the fun if there is no risk?” 

“This isn’t fun, Sunny,” Klaus said, “We have to go rescue our parents and kill Count Olaf.” 

“Yeye.” Sunny nodded. “Exactly; sounds like a blast.” 

“Listen to Sunny, Klaus,” Violet said, “Manhunts are fun. And oh…” she shook her head and smiled, “Will it be satisfying to stab that bastard.” 

“Kill!” Sunny agreed cheerily. 

“So, how do we make sure he follows us?” Isadora asked. 

“Easy. We go out in the fucking open, and he’ll spot us. He always seems to.” 

“So we just… don’t make an effort?” 

“Hell, we’ll find a bus station near Dark Avenue. Get to the city that way.” Violet said. “But make sure he doesn’t catch up to us until we’re on the bus. Everyone have your weapons?” 

Duncan and Isadora nodded, putting a hand on their knives. Sunny bit her finger, smiling and nodding as well. 

“Yeah, Sunny, you are staying the Sunnybag.” Violet ordered, and Sunny flipped her off. “Klaus, you stick with her. Quagmires, hand on one of us at all times unless we have to fight. We move off now.” 

They nodded, and stood up. Violet, though she just told everyone to leave, stopped a moment, looking back at the nursery. Then, slowly, she lifted the music box, and slid it into her bag. 

Nobody else said anything. 

When they left the house, the Baudelaires walked backwards for a bit, so they could look up at the mansion. It was still standing, and the outside didn’t quite look as rough as the inside. 

It might’ve been a nice place to live. 

“The bus station’s this way.” Duncan said, glancing at the map. He wasn’t quite as good as Quigley would’ve been, but he could figure out where the bus was from their position. 

“We haven’t been spotted yet.” Klaus said. 

“It’s no loss if we’re not. Just means it’ll take longer for him to catch up.” Violet whispered. “That’s fi- and boom goes the dynamite.” 

“What?” 

Violet gestured with her head, and Klaus looked over to see, in a doorway of a post office, that Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender, a confused look on their face, was staring right at them. 

“We run in five.” Violet said calmly, as she reached out and grabbed Duncan’s hand. “One, two…” 

The Henchperson slowly stepped out of the doorway, and Klaus said, “Five.” 

He grabbed onto Isadora, and the Baudelaires took off running, dragging their friends behind them as they rounded the bend. “Keep going, he needs to think we’re afraid or he’ll get suspicious.” Violet muttered as Duncan let out a startled noise, and Sunny helpfully let out a cry, just so the Henchperson knew which direction they were going in. They seemed to be a slow runner, so Violet even paused a second after rounding the second bend, just to make sure the Henchperson saw them enter the bus station. 

She raced up to the ticket counter, passed Duncan’s hand to Klaus’s, and reached into her pocket, slamming as much money as she could grab in front of the woman. “Five tickets to VFD, four children and one baby.” 

“Nota!” Sunny called. 

“Sorry, four children and one toddler. She’s been getting better at walking.” 

The ticket person glanced at the money, at a chart on the side and said, “You’re just in time, that bus is about to leave.” 

“Yeah, we hoped so.” Violet said. She pushed the money at the ticket salesperson and said, “Keep all the change and if someone comes by asking for us, tell them which bus we went on, but give them the wrong directions to the bus station.” 

The salesperson opened their mouth to question, looked down at the handful of cash, and then shrugged and nodded, handing over the tickets. “Station thirteen.” 

Violet directed Klaus to follow her and ran towards their station. Klaus trailed quickly behind her, Sunny still on his chest and with one hand gripping to each Quagmire. Isadora and Duncan kept their heads down, clinging to Klaus and trying not to be noticed by the crowd moving to and fro buses, muttering or laughing to themselves and not noticing the panicked, dirty group of children rushing for station thirteen. 

They reached the bus just after the last man in line boarded, and Violet raced in, throwing her tickets at the driver, waving at him, and then turning around, eyes darting between seats. She finally dragged her group over to the back seat, large enough for them all to squeeze into, and they settled down, breathing hard, shoving their bags off and glancing to each other to make sure they’d all made it.

Isadora was nearest to the window when the bus finally left the station, and she peered out, whispering, “Yeah, that Henchperson’s heading this way. Won’t make it in time, but they’ll know which bus we took.” 

“Good.” Violet says. “Gives us quite a bit of time, especially since they seem to be alone. Must be a scout ahead.” 

Isadora sighed and turned back, kicking her legs as Duncan leaned onto Klaus’s shoulder. Klaus jumped, and Duncan, not even noticing, muttered, “I’m going back to sleep. Wake me up when we get there.” 

“Srac,” Sunny said, which meant something like, “It might be a long drive.” 

“Good. Long nap.” Duncan said. He yawned, grabbing Klaus’s arm and curling up some more. 

Isadora smiled, and said, “What, Duncan, we’re not going to do the song?” 

Violet took a quick break from watching the roads pass by out the bus window to turn in confusion. “The what?” 

“We- when we were on long car trips, we’d do a song.” Isadora giggled. “Cause Quigley used to be scared of long car rides and Mother wanted him to stop crying all the damn time so we made a game of it…” 

She fell silent, staring down at her hands, and Violet shared a quick look with her siblings. Singing on a crowded bus would draw attention to them, and they already had Olaf’s attention, they didn’t need anyone else’s. It would probably be a bad idea. 

Klaus shrugged, and Sunny giggled, and Violet smiled over at Isadora. “How does it go?” 

“What?” 

“The song. How’s it go?” 

Isadora’s face lit up, and Duncan sat up a little, rubbing his eyes and smiling. She kicked her legs a little, and then sang, “Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wabe!” 

Duncan smiled and sang the next line softly. “All mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe.” 

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!” 

“Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun the frumious Bandersnatch…” 

When the bus stopped, and the driver called for departers at VFD, Violet looked out the window in confusion, signalled to the others to stay put, and then wandered down the aisle, over to the driver. 

“Where is it?” she asked. “This is just empty space.” 

“It’s over there.” the driver pointed out the window, and Violet squinted, seeing what looked like a dot on the horizon. “I don’t go any closer. That Council of Elders freaks me out.” 

Violet didn’t remember shit about a ‘Council of Elders’ in VFD, so she assumed that meant either this VFD was coincidentally named, or some weird shit had gone down in the cult since her parents left. She sighed, reached into her bag, and pulled out another fistful of cash. 

“You drop us off closer and then abandon us and you get this as a tip.” 

He considered, then shrugged. “So long as I don’t get burned at the stake.” 

“Won’t happen.” Violet assured him, shoved the money into his hands, and then walked back to the backseat. 

She glanced over the group; Duncan had fallen asleep on Klaus’s shoulder, and Klaus had fallen asleep on Isadora’s, while she stared out the window and bounced a snoring Sunny on her knee. She sat back as the bus started again, and said, “We’re almost there. We should wake them up.” 

Isadora nodded, and then absent-mindedly fixed Sunny’s ponytail. “What do we do when we get there?” 

“We find an abandoned building, wait for Olaf to come, and kill him.” Violet said simply. “Once Olaf is dead, we’ll either interrogate the troupe or search the town to find where he stashed our parents. We have weapons, we can set traps-” 

“What if he escapes?” 

“That’s a possibility, not gonna lie. We can also find an escape vehicle in case we have to retreat. We won’t split up, so that he can’t corner any of us. Sunny’s getting a bit big for her bag, but we can either extend the straps or make sure someone’s holding her at all times.” 

“What if he captures someone?” Isadora turned to Violet, pleading with her eyes. “What if he gets Duncan? I won’t let him take my brother away.” 

Violet took a deep breath, and took Isadora’s hand. 

“That won’t happen.” she promised. “If he takes someone, it’s kill on sight.” 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” Violet said. “Keep your knife on you at all times.” 

Isadora nodded, and then moved to wake up Klaus. 

[ansheofthevalley]

In one kiss, you’ll know all I haven’t said - Chapter 2 “The ‘Jon Situation’”

The party's time of death was 12:42 am.

Sansa and Margaery were sitting on the steps leading to the entrance of the house, bored and tired.

"So... why did you say that you didn't want Robb to see you like this?" Sansa ventured. Almost instantly, Margaery's cheeks flushed in a shade of pink oh so lovely. She knew that she would regret teasing her friend, especially when it was Jon, out of all people, who was coming to get them home safely. But she teases me endlessly, she thought. Now I can tease her.

"No reason" she muttered. She wouldn't meet her eyes. So unlike her confident (and normal) self. It only made Sansa smile. "I can't have him saying that I'm not a goddess 24/7. I got a reputation to look after" she elaborated, but her words didn't quite match her semblance. Sansa's smile morphed into a grin. Oh, she would have her time on the sun. Or on this case, the moon.

"You like him!" she gushed. Margaery tried to cut her off but it was of no use. "You do! You like him!". Sansa started laughing, a strange exhilaration taking over her. Gods, I am drunk.

"It's not my fault your hot brother dropped by the other day, all flushed and sweaty from running" her friend blurted. "I'm still a woman, Sansa. A human being".

"First off, ew" she started. Margaery threw her hands in the air as she mumbled something to herself in response. "Secondly, he dropped by? When?" she asked her. Their parents and younger siblings would be coming down to King's Landing to spend the holidays with them. Sansa knew her brother Bran wanted to check out Jaehaerys' Philosophy School. He still hasn't made his mind about which college to choose: King's Landing College or Oldtown University.

"He said it was about your parents. Apparently, they rented a house just outside the city" Margaery told her. "He wanted to let you know that you could bring a friend over if you wanted. Which is a godsdamn tragedy, since I'll in Pentos for the holidays" she pouted.

"And he couldn't tell me that over the phone?" Sansa wondered out loud. Her friend just shrugged and realisation hit her hard in the face.

Gods, he's pulling a Sporty Robb, Sansa thought, becoming exasperated in a second. Sporty Robb was the absolute worst. When she was a freshman in high school, Robb was the guy all the girls were mooning over. She had to endure the helpless sighs the girls would make each time they'd arrive, or leave, or just walked from classroom to classroom. Obviously, all that attention got into his head, in part thanks to one Theon Greyjoy, a new student from Pyke. Every time he would finish his rugby practice, he would go straight to where the cheerleaders were, trying to make idle conversation and flirt with a new girl each week. He would do that, every. single. week. And that's how Sporty Robb came to be.

She couldn't believe her 20-year-old-brother was behaving like a teenager again. She'll have to talk to him about Marge. She wouldn't let him ruin one of the few friendships she has in the South.

Though I hardly believe True Love is what Marge feels for him, she thought.

She spares her friend a look; she's resting against one of the marble columns, looking up at the sky, mesmerized by the stars.

Gods, we're both so drunk.

*******************************************************

"How long till your darling Jon comes? It's not like we're in up in the Vale" Margaery complained.

Your darling Jon

Sansa can feel her face redden. "He was sleeping when I called him" she said all too fast, her voice too high. "He lives near the Iron Gate and we're practically in Rosby". She hoped that her reasonable explanation would be enough for her friend to shut up. "Besides..." Don't do it, screams the voice in her head. Don't you dare do it. "He's not 'my darling Jon'".

And then, there's that look in Marge's face. That 'bitch-please-you-can-try-to-fool-yourself-all-you-want-but-you-won't-fool-me' look. I walked right into that one, she half thought, half chastised herself.

"Really?" her friends said, lifting a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. "We're gonna do this again?"

"He's not 'my darling'" she basically shouted. Get a fucking grip, that same annoying, yet reasonable voice inside her head told her. "He isn't" she said, once she gained some semblance of composure.

"Then why is it that since your arrival" she started "you haven't been out in a single date, hm?" she was looking at her as if she were a police detective fishing for answers from a criminal.

Sansa would've laughed, if only she didn't have the impulse to scream at her in exasperation.

"Because not all of us think about dating all the time" she retorted.

"But you do think about Jon all the time" she pressed on. Gods, she was relentless.

"I do not think about him all the time" she said, outraged.

"Yes, you do" Margaery teased in a sing-song tone.

"No, I don't!" she denied, feeling her cheeks starting to redden once again.

"You do!"

"I don't"

"Yes, Sans, you d-"

"Would I have secured a date with one of the boys from the rugby team if I was thinking about Jon all the time?" she retorted, in hopes to make her shut up, but as soon as she said it, she regretted it.

"You naughty, naughty girl" she said, all too amused. "Dating one of your brother's teammates". Oh, she was delighted. "Does he have a name?"

"Dickon" she replied through gritted teeth.

"The Tarly boy?" she gasped, bringing her perfectly manicured hand to her chest. Sansa could only roll her eyes at her. "Girl, you got your she-wolf paws on a hottie. Let me tell you. One time, I went to the running tracks after our Political Theory class to meet Loras. I don't remember what for... but that's not the point. The point is that I arrived just after rugby practice had ended, and I saw your Dickon along with Robb, cooling off near the benches-"

She had to stop her. Or else she would be like this during the whole ride home and Sansa simply wouldn't survive that. It was too much. "We just agreed to go out someday, it's not like we're having a full-blown love affair" she interjected, grabbing her friend by the shoulders, begging her to stop her drunken rambling. But Marge could only flash her that beautiful smile of hers. That infuriating smile of hers.

Just as she finished talking, she heard a car pulling over. A black Camaro SS. And suddenly, she felt her whole body redden at what was going to happen. She didn't know what would happen exactly, but she knew nothing good would come out of this. Nothing good can happen in car ride with me, Jon and a drunk Margaery, she thought somberly.

"Jon, the Dark Knight, to the rescue" Margaery shrieked, full of glee, and stood up as soon as she saw him. Sansa didn't need a mirror to know she was as red as a Dornish Camellia. She chanced a glance of Jon; a beautiful shade of pink starting to cover his cheeks. He always looked so cute when he'd flush. She didn't notice she was staring, at least not until she saw him standing right before her.

Shit

"So, I guess you had a great night" he offered with that gorgeous half smile of his. The one that would make her heart skip a beat or two. She saw that half smile transform into a full-blown smile and Sansa could swear she felt weak in the knees. You. Are. Staring, the -apparently sober- voice in her head told her.

"'Twas alright" she said, trying to appear nonchalant. "It was pretty snobby, actually. Marge and I tried to save it, but it was of no use".

Margaery, upon hearing her name, snapped out of her own world to correct her. "More like I tried to save it. I danced my ass off trying to revive the party and what did you do" she complained. "You know what she did, Jon?" her friend asked him, her voice full of hurt and wearing the most endearing (and hilarious) version of her "little rose" face. "You know what she did?" Seven Hells. Drunk Margaery had even more of a flair for the dramatics than sober Margaery... and she was pretty dramatic while sober. "She ditched me" she finally said, voice and face equally hurt. "For a handsome, tall stranger. Can you believe?". The astonishment in her face and the whole clutching-my-pearls pose would've been hilarious to Sansa... if it weren't for the tiny fact that she was telling Jon fucking Snow she flirted with Dickon, as in Dickon, his and Robb's teammate.  "She's even gonna go on a date with him" she whispered to him, giggling like a child, because of fucking course, Margaery was having a field day with this.

Jon turned to look at her, his cheeks turning pink again, and Sansa wanted nothing more than for the earth to swallow her right there in that exact moment. She was about to say something when she heard Margaery's playful and oh-so-innocent voice. "So, it looks like you might have some competition now, Dragonknight" she added while walking towards Jon's car. Sansa could just feel the smirk in her friend's voice.

The Stranger take me.

*******************************************************

The one-hour ride from Harry's mansion to her and Margaery's flat was the longest hour in Sansa's life.

They spent the first fifteen minutes in silence: Margaery fast asleep in the backseat, Sansa staring out the window and Jon focused on the road.

With each minute, the silence grew stronger and stronger. It's was deafening and unbearable. She was desperately looking for something to say, but didn't trust herself in her drunken state. And in the trance Jon puts me in every time I'm close to him, her thoughts reminded her, proving her point.

She was starting to panic, when words left her mouth, without her permission. "Sorry about Marge" she tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. Jon spared her a quick look. His eyes looked almost black and so deep and beautiful... Fuck. "You know how she is when she's drunk" she explains with a laugh; a laugh that sounds too forced in her ears. The thing is, Jon doesn't know how Marge is when she's drunk because this is the first time that she has to be alone (and wide awake) with Jon while being drunk. At least last time, I was lucky enough to pass out, she thought, feeling resigned. Here's the thing about about first times: they were fucking terrifying.

Jon only hummed in response. His eyes never leave the road.

It only made look at him again. Carefully.

His hair was pushed back from his face, into a man-bun. A few unruly curls still found their way to his face. He looked like he just woke up, and seriously, it just isn't fair. It's not fair that he looks like that after just being woken up by his best friend's sister. He truly was The Warrior come alive. Aemon the Dragonknight reborn (if he had black hair and gray eyes). Looking at him, she wanted nothing more than to push those unruly raven curls back. She wanted to touch his face, let his beard tickle her palm. She wanted to stand so close to him so she could see the gray in his eyes. She wanted to be oh so close to him that she could breath him in, the scent that made Jon Jon.

It wasn't until he looks back at her with curious eyes that she realized that she was staring. Again.

Sansa tried to do her best to salvage the situation her thirsty, drunk self put her in. "You really are the best" she says. She could feel the flush creeping on her cheeks once again. Like a fucking schoolgirl, she thought.

Her words made him blush and that made her feel more lightheaded than the alcohol. "Stop it" he told her, trying (and failing) to hide his beautiful smile.

"You are" she insisted. "Here I am, miles away from campus, in the house of some rich asshole." Her description of Harry made him laugh. And in that moment, she realized she could get high on that sound. She could let it lift her up up up until she reached the clouds. "Drunk, with an even more drunk friend" she laughed, while sparing her dear friend a look; she was sleeping like a baby in the backseat. A beautiful, drunk baby. "And I call you in the middle of the night and you come to my rescue. Even though you have practice tomorrow". She couldn't help the softness in her voice as she told him all of this, because it really warms her heart that he would drive up to Rosby at 2 a.m. for her.

He just took a quick look at her, then at the road.

And then the most catastrophic thing happens. For her heart, at least.

He gave her an earth-shattering smile. The kind of smile that makes you weak in the knees and makes you wonder 'how dare he be so godsdamn beautiful?'.

Fuck

"You make me sound like a hero, Sans" he laughed. "Like one from the stories you love to read".

Seven fucking hells

He remembers. "Well, that's because you are" she said, trying to put an end to this conversation because at this rate, she would make it home as human goo.

Then, the strangest thing happened. He looked at her with such tenderness. His eyes were incredibly soft. His lips were a little bit parted. He looked like he was about to say something.

The sight made her heart go berserker in her chest.

But something shifted in his eyes. Made them hardened, even if it was just a little bit. But Sansa noticed. He half-smiled at her and returned his attention to the road ahead of him.

She rolled to her side, looking out of the window, paying attention to the trees and the stars; but soon closed her eyes. She wanted to remember every single detail of the look that Jon gave her.

Even though it most probably become all hazy in the morning.

(Continue reading on AO3)

[gothicflamingos]

How’d you get your hand scar?

omg, an ask! how exciting! 

TWAS THE NIGHT before project was due in Design School Hell, and I probably was way too tired. I majored in Industrial Design, which is is mostly designing objects, so our projects required us to physically build shit. I had vacuum formed some styrene and was cutting it out with an xacto knife (dumb) when the knife caught a little bit. I applied a little more pressure like a Fool™, and the knife just slid through the plastic and the top of my hand like butter. 

Turns out there’s alot of elasticity in your hands, because the skin bowed out, and in that split-second before my hand actually started bleeding, I saw ALOT of red. Immediately booked it to campus safety for a ride to Brigham & Women’s. And by the time I was standing at the counter checking in, my body realized what the fuck just happened and I started to faint. Face hot, can’t speak, ears ringing, etc. Turns out almost fainting is one of those things that gets you seen immediately at the E.R, so they produced a wheelchair out of thin air (idk, I was pretty out of it) and wheeled me in. Stitched me up, had me come back a week later, discovered that I had cut through a tendon on my middle finger, got surgery, stitched me up again, went through physical therapy. Fun stuff! 

I have a gnarly scar as a result that makes me feel like the baddest bitch around, but also will start to faint whenever I cut a finger or something because my body thinks it’s happening again and starts to panic. 

Some Pics:

In Conclusion! Don’t have fun with knives when you’re running low on sleep.

[mamaeldritch]

Oc fic WIP

Twas bored and started to write ✏

Working as a waitress in this shit hole was a mistake. if there isn’t someone constantly calling off, someone is harassing me. But for now I have three whole days off to myself. No college classes, no work, not anything but recording for my YouTube channel and watching Netflix. Come to think of it I need to go food shopping. As I get dressed in something presentable I hear gunshots outside of my apartment window. This is something I’ve gotten used to as I live in a mafia ridden city. It’s always been this way, even when in was a kid on the playground, us kids would talk about the mafia. The biggest mafia group was the De Blankco family. They were violent to anyone who wronged them or anyone in the inner circle. The boss was a woman by the name of Matthuie. She was known to be a cold hearted bitch of woman who wasn’t afraid to murder someone in cold blood if she didn’t like them. Anyway I grab my keys to my car and go down to the parking garage. As I wasn’t I here more shots. “Layla above, the fucks going own down there?” As I look over the ledge I see two men standing over a corpse of a woman. Some politician. I walk away from the ledge and try my best to think something else as I start my car and go to the store.

As I drive down the busy streets I ponder about college. I’m studying to be a chemist. I have always been good at science and managed to earn a full ride through college. I think about family. My father hated me because I was gay. My mother had tried to protect me from him as a kid but It ended with her getting hurt. But that’s the past. She divorced him after he was arrested for assault with a deadly weapon. Things were good after that. She met someone nice and is happy now. I should go visit her next break I have. I turn into the parking lot or the store and park. “ Alright Em, just get some food and drinks and get them hell out for here.” I whisper to myself as I walk in. This particular part of town was know for kidnapping and murder. I hated coming here but it was the cheapest place to get food. Alrighty, Bread, Milk, Bottled water, chips, cheese, ham, bologna, juice, and sherbet and I’ll b outta here in no time.