#to be fair it is NOWHERE near my waist

[brimstone-rose]

dreamt that my hair had grown all the way down to my waist and now i’m debating whether i should actually take scissors to it this weekend as i had planned :/

[6ix9inewiturmom]

The Scare- Chris Sturniolo

Summary: you end up having one of the biggest pregnancy scares of your life while chris is in boston

Warnings: Cursing, Crying, use of Y/N, talks of sex, taking a pregnancy test

A/n: may be tmi but lowkey relate to this so this was easy to write LMFAOO, ENJOY

PSA: DO NOT USE MY WORK FOR “inspiration” OR ANYTHING ELSE!!

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Chris has been in Boston for the last 2 weeks, and he's finally coming home. I decided to shower and shave before he came home because that man is the most sexually active 20-year-old I've ever met, the Facetime sex at 3 am for him isn't nearly enough to satisfy both of our needs.

After my hour-long shower, I'm digging through my shared bathroom with Chris in an attempt to find my body lotion to prevent my dry ass skin in this heat when I find my box of tampons, which got me thinking I haven't had a period in a while and Chris and I aren't the safest people when it comes to sex because neither of us can even remember to put a condom on, it always fucks up my mood.

“Shit,” I say to my self.

Chris and I are only 20 and with his career there's no fucking way in HELL we can have a kid or even raise a kid, I am nowhere near ready to raise an actual child.

I open my Flo app and see the little circle that's normally red is grey ‘1 week late’

“Shit shit shit,” I say out loud again, panicking.

I can't keep it from him, he's gonna see the pregnancy test in the trash. Would he be mad if I kept it from him? Should I just tell him? Should I go to Tara?

After about 30 minutes of standing in the bathroom looking at the message in my phone, panicking about what to do, I just decided I was gonna tell Chris, he loves me, and we've talked about having kids way later in life anyway, he couldn't be mad.

I finally built up the courage and got dressed in a pair of tight ripped jeans and a baby tee, with some Converse, and sat on the couch waiting for Chris to come home going through Tiktok and whatever else was on my phone.

“BABY IM HOME” Chris yells from the stairs

I squeal in excitement as I spot Chris and run towards him. Jumping into his arms, he effortlessly lifts me, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist.

“Umm Y/N there are other people here too you know? Also, Chris get out of the fucking way so we can fucking put our shit down” Nick says in annoyance.

“Well hello to you too Nick,” I say jumping out of Chris’ arms moving out of the doorway, and letting Matt and Nick come inside the house.

“Sorry babes, we've all been up since about 6 am Boston time trying to catch our flight we almost missed because your fucking boyfriend wouldn't get the hell out of bed” Nick replies sending me a soft smile and giving me a soft hug.

“To be fair none of us went to bed at a decent time, mom was making sure we had everything packed so we didn't leave anything behind” matt defends.

“Thank you, Matt, now Y/N do you wanna take a nap? I know we were gonna go out to dinner but I'm very fucking jet lagged and kinda just want to order dinner and watch movies with you” Chris wraps his arms around my waist nuzzling his head between my neck as my hands rest on his shoulders.

“Thats fine with me i don't mind” i pull away from his embrace and smile at him.

Chris grabs his luggage and my hand and guides me to our shared bedroom. As we enter the room he seats his luggage down and plops on the bed letting out a groan of frustration.

“I have missed this damn bed, don't ask me how I slept in that bed at my mom's house for god knows how long because this one is so much more comfortable,” Chris says adjusting the way he's laying to rest his head down on the pillows. “Now after 2 weeks of no sex and just my right hand, I'm gonna need to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you” he smirks at me patting his lap and signaling me to sit on it.

“Yeah so about that” give him an awkward smile “So I didn't know how to approach this to you, 'cause you know we're not the most responsible sexually active humans” I start babbling getting nervous of his reaction based on the puzzled look on his face.

“Y/N what the hell are you getting at? cause if you don’t wanna have sex with me right now that’s fine just say that, but considering our last facetime call the constant ‘oh chris i need your cock’ was really misleading to me” he says with a puzzled faced.

“Chris i’m late” i breathe out.

“late for what? did we have reservations for dinner? did you have something for work?” he says with frustration in his voice.

“No Chris my period, I'm late, my period is LATE, I'm 1 week late today,” I say aggressively from his lack of acknowledgement.

“wait we haven’t had sex in 2 weeks? i’m confused” he sits up moving to the edge of the bed.

“last time we had sex i was ovulating, remember when i told you like a while ago that if im ovulating means im FERTILE?” i say in frustration.

“Fuck” he runs his fingers through his hair “Did you take a test? Do you know for sure that you are pregnant?” he questions

“No, and no, I didn't wanna take a test without you, and I for SURE didn't wanna hide it from you,” I say softly sitting next to him on the bed.

“So why the hell are you freaking out now? You don't know for sure that you are” he asks placing his head in his hands.

“Because you and I are nowhere near ready for a fucking kid Chris, your career, and my inability to even fucking care for myself some days, yeah there's no fucking way I can care for a child who can't even speak on its emotions, Chris” I stand up out of frustration and start pacing.

I can tell Chris obviously got upset with my statement about our ability to care for a child but i was stressed and honestly wasn't thinking.

"I want you to know that I care about you deeply, Y/N. If you are indeed pregnant, please know that I will do everything in my power to support you and our child. Even if it means giving up my career, I will do it willingly. Let's go get a pregnancy test and we can talk about everything else later, okay? I am here for you, and I will always be." he says, his voice filled with empathy and understanding as he gently cups my cheeks in his hands, rubbing them softly up and down and warm smile spreads across his face.

As our eyes meet, a warm smile spreads across his face and I can't help but return it. He takes my hand in his and gently guides me towards the living room, his grip firm yet gentle. The coolness of his skin against mine sends shivers down my spine.

“Girl, were you guys arguing? Normally after we come home from Boston it's all ‘Oh Chris more, more’ typically a traumatic event” Nick says mocking me with a smile plastered across his face.

“Y/N and I are running to CVS so well be back in a little,” Chris says walking him and me down the stairs and to my car.

The drive to CVS was filled with a bunch of conversations and laughter, talking about if I was pregnant how we would raise our child, and Chris talking about the dad jokes he's gonna have, and considering he's a triplet he carries the genetic that I'm probably gonna twins or triplets.

“How many of these things do we need? What brand is best? why are there so many options?” Chris says holding 3 boxes of pregnancy tests and struggling to figure out which one to pick “fuck it why don't we buy all of them and use one pack tonight then we'll have the extra on hand in case our irresponsibility gets the best of us” he continues.

Chris and I walked up to the front counter and dropped the boxes of tests. The worker behind the counter took a look at the tests and then looked back at us, giving us a fake smile. After ringing up the purchase, we made our way to my car.

“So do you think you are pregnant?” Chris says breaking the silence.

“I mean normally my cycles are normal and a week late is not normal at all but it could be my hormones changing or something, but I do wanna make sure,” I say glancing at Chris nervously biting his nails.

“You were right about how irresponsible we are with our sex lives but when we first started fucking we knew the risk of everything and I mean our kids would be pretty cute,” he says placing his hand on my leg and rubbing a small circle with his thumb.

Chris and I pulled up into the driveway. As we got out of the car, he held my hand tightly and carried the CVS bag in the other hand as we made our way into the house and up the staircase.

“did you get any snacks?” Nick says eating a bowl of popcorn on the couch with Matt watching the most random movie on Netflix.

“Uhm no I just got a couple of personal things” I say nervously holding up the bag and sending a warm smile to Nick.

Chris and I pretty much B lined to the bathroom, anxiously “So which one do we use?” Chris says looking down at the boxes.

“Just give me the one that says Clearblue” i say softly laughing as Chris opens the box for me and inspects it before handing me the little stick.

“Do you want me to hold the stick while you piss? I'm sorry I have no idea how these things work” he says laughing allowing his back to slide down the wall and sit with his back against the shower door.

“Chris it's fine i know how to use these, believe me my friends in highschool weren't the most responsible either” I say laughing beginning to pee on the little white and blue stick.

“So how long do we wait?” Chris says helping me take a seat on the floor next to him.

“5 minutes” I breathe out setting a 5-minute timer on my phone and leaning my head against the shower door.

As we sat in the bathroom, waiting for the pregnancy test to show its result, the silence felt palpable. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather a deafening one that seemed to fill the entire room. With just the two of us present, we anxiously waited for the five minutes to pass.

“Would it be a bad thing if I wanted it to be positive?” Chris chuckles.

“I wouldn't necessarily say a bad thing, there's a part of me that kind of wants it to be positive too” i smile back at Chris.

The alarm on my phone quickly broke the once-loving moment sending us into a panic. Chris and I stand up walking to the counter.

“Wait should we film it in case you are then we could always have it if you could be pregnant?” Chris’ gaze softens as he looks at me.

“Chris not the time” I softly laugh out.

“Right,” he nods smiling back at me. “WAIT” he grabs my hand “Whatever happens, I love you,” he says in a serious tone.

With a warm smile, I gaze lovingly at him and reciprocate his affectionate words, "I love you too Christopher." However, my attention is quickly drawn towards the counter where the pregnancy test lays face down, taunting my nerves. With trembling hands, I muster up the courage to pick it up and slowly turn it around to face me, my heart pounding in anticipation of the result.

‘Not Pregnant’

“YES, MORE CREAMPIES” Chris shrieks wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me up, and spinning me around as I giggle out of excitement.

He carefully seats me down back flat on my feet. Our moment was quickly interrupted by both Nick and Matt barging through the door.

“ARE YOU GUYS- wait is that a pregnancy test? Y/N ARE YOU PREGNANT?” Nick yelled as Matt's eyes widened at the little blue stick in my hands.

“Please for the love of god, I don't want a little Chris running around, or two, or even three” Matt places his hand on his forehead.

“No she is not” Chris chuckles at the boys’ comment.

“THANK YOU,” matt and nick say in unison.

“Wrap it before you tap it next time Chris,” Nick says walking away and back to the living room.

“Now I'll say it again, after 2 weeks of Facetime sex I would like to absolutely fuck your brains out” Chris says smirking down at me.

“Please do” I smile as he picks me up gripping the backs of my thighs as my legs wrap around his waist leading me to the bedroom.

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A/N pt 2: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THISSSSSS AND TYSM TO @cosmicmistake42069 FOR THIS INSPIRATION!!

[killerpancakeburger]

Halloween w/ Soap

Tags: established relationship, gn!reader, fluff, reader is a cat person. 0.6k words.

“BONNIE!”

Your boyfriend's enthusiastic scream barely makes you move from your cosy spot on the couch, where you're laying on your side and scrolling on your phone.

“Hmm?” you reply, distracted.

He noisily rushes to your side, kneeling on the rug.

“C'mon! Time to get ready!”

You look up to stare at him with perplexity.

“Ready for what?”

“Halloween, f'course!”

You raise a skeptical eyebrow, expression hesitating between a smile and a grimace.

“I don't wanna ruin your fun, honey, but you don't think we're a bit old for that…?”

“I promised I'd take my nieces! You're coming with, right? Right?”

Here comes the puppy eyes. You sigh in defeat.

“Do you have a costume?”

He rewards your capitulation with a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

“Got us matching ones.”

In a normal instance, you would have felt self-conscious about wearing that kind of attire in public, even on the last night of october. But, as if he read your mind, Johnny's attention in getting you matching outfits helped a lot with the matter. Not to mention that he couldn’t go wrong with a black cat attire.

The costumes were very casual— all black, comfortable clothes for you, with cat ears you could clip on in your hair and a cat tail you could stick on the back of your pants; a headband with wolf ears and the bushy tail that came with for your Scottish companion. You were bracing yourself in advance for all the pussy jokes he wouldn’t miss to make.

You didn’t expect to find yourself caught up in the game, but here you were, staring in the mirror and lost in thought. When was the last time you got ready for Halloween…?

“Ye like it?” prompted Soap as he sneaked behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle, a mischievous smile floating on his lips.

“Are you supposed to be a wolf or a werewolf?” you quipped.

“Whatever you think is sexiest,” he purred as he nuzzled into your neck.

You chuckled softly at his willingness to please. Your gaze lingers on his reflection, in particular on the way his torn jeans hugged his muscular thighs. You already knew that if the occasion presented itself, you'd lag behind on your halloween stroll just to enjoy the view of that bubble butt of his.

“You know I like it. But it's missing… something… last time I did this, my mom did my make-up. Smoky eyes and black lipstick. It would fit nicely.”

You turn around to look at him.

“Eyeliner would look insane with your eyes,” you sigh wistfully as you contemplate them, tenderly cradling his cheek.

He snorts, amused.

“Have yer way with me.”

Moments later, you’re putting the final touch to his make-up after doing yours, standing between his spread legs as he sits impressively still, silently following your commands and keeping his blue eyes fixed on you like you were a particularly fascinating chemistry experiment. Once you're done, you take a step back to admire your work, tilting his head backward with one finger under his chin.

“Damn it, you’re so beautiful. That's not fair.”

He excessively bats his eyelashes at you to make you laugh, and it works.

You proceed to examine your loot after you two dumped the content of your bags into the biggest bowl you own. 

“Do you want the…? I like them, but nowhere near as much as you.”

He grabs you by the waist and playfully pretends to bite your neck.

“Got my favorite treat right there.”

A cheeky smile spread on your lips.

“Oh? So you won't mind if I take this all for myself?” you taunt him as you turn away while possessively cradling the bowl against yourself.

“Oï, that's not what I meant and ye know it—” he exclaims, acting more outraged than he really is.

You laugh frankly as he tries to seize the candies, but fail when you move the bowl out of his reach. Changing tactics, he tickles your sides and you squirm out of his hold while yelling your surrender.

[kurogane2512]

you as chief of mbcc sitting in your chair with chameleon on your lap (side ways) head buried in your neck telling you about her worries about those sinners (special conversation 1)

Game: Path to Nowhere

Characters: Chameleon x gn!reader (Chief)

Type: SFW, Fluff

You weren't sure how you ended up in this scenario. As the Chief of MBCC, you had a myriad of duties concerning the Sinners. Looking after the Sinners' psychological and emotional needs was immensely important hence you'd have to make special arrangements for each of them, catered to their conditions. One particular arrangement was the one you were currently in, having none other than Chameleon nestled in your lap.

"Mmm, I always look forward to these sessions, Chief~" Chameleon husked near your ear in her sultry voice, her lips grazing your lobe.

Despite being a highly reputed psychologist herself, Chameleon had her fair share of mental troubles that she couldn't solve by herself. This arrangement began as a simple meeting you decided to have with her 3 months ago to find out how to help her, initially you would simply talk with her about anything she wished but over time she became daring and started asking for more, knowing well you'd go as far as it took to help her. So, here she was sitting on your lap sideways and resting against your body. A passerby would think you both were lovers by the intimate position.

"Chameleon, aren't you a bit too close today....?" you tried to protest but it seems your resistance only made her come closer, her arms wrapping around your neck now.

"Am I? What if I told you I'm craving some extra attention today, hm?~"

You knew it was futile to argue with her, so you accepted your fate with a sigh and kept your arm around her waist to steadily hold her. You couldn't see her face but you could swear she smirked the moment she felt your hand around her, she knew you wouldn't deny her.

"Well, how was your day today, Chief? Anything interesting happened?~"

"Hmm, not really. It was the usual routine today. I suppose the exciting things only happen on missions." you replied with a chuckle, making Chameleon smile too.

"What about you? How do you feel now?"

Chameleon slid her finger down your cheek, tracing your face intricately while pondering.

"You must be knowing the answer to that, Chief. You have your eyes and ears on us all the time~"

"Well, I like listening to you talk about it yourself. I can't know your thoughts by looking through the cameras."

Chameleon hummed and hugged you tighter, burying her face in your neck and relaxing. You weren't sure how to respond to this since she never did this kind of thing before, but you felt it was best to let her be and continue holding her the same way.

"Something has been on my mind all day and I was waiting for our session to finally talk about it. You must be already aware of this fact since you keep track of everyone's day to day life..... Well, at night, many Sinners suffer from terrible nightmares. I'm also one of them but thanks to your efforts, I have been better recently. Still, I'm well aware that everyone's condition is different and they require special treatment."

You furrowed your brows for a moment, trying to understand what she was meaning to say.

"I know.... Sometimes it's even terrifying for me since I can feel it through the shackles. Earlier, I would keep getting up at night cause of the disturbances in the shackles but now I have gradually learned to subdue it from my side. Still, I cannot erase their nightmares completely...."

Chameleon could sense a hint of disappointment and regret in your tone, a feeling of guilt you had over not being able to help the Sinners properly. This gave her assurance that she was right to bring this up with you.

"We share the same sentiment then, Chief. I had a.... proposal for this. Would you mind letting me talk with them individually and privately? Perhaps I can delve into the root cause of their nightmares and suggest better treatments that the resident psychologist cannot."

You weren't completely surprised hearing this, you had somehow anticipated it. Perhaps you had finally started to understand her on a deeper level.

"That is.... very kind of you, Chameleon, truly. But, don't mind me asking this, why do you want to do this?"

Chameleon softly chuckled, "Why, I'm still a clinical psychologist, Chief. Are you surprised to hear that I perhaps care for these Sinners? Or do you doubt my intents and feel I'm planning something sinister, hm?~"

"....Neither of that. I'm just a little surprised to hear you make this first step, that's all. I asked for your reasoning only because I don't want you to burden yourself and think that perhaps it's your responsibility as a psychologist to help them. Irrespective of your own condition, you don't have to feel obligated to do something like this. But if you truly wish to out of goodwill then I will support you."

Chameleon couldn't help but genuinely smile at your words then leaned forward to kiss your cheek.

"My, the way you become so chivalrous is quite endearing, Chief~"

You blushed for a moment then cleared your throat, "A-Ahem, however, I have some conditions for this. I trust you but I still need to follow some protocols and exercise general cautions. You can meet them by yourself but I need to be in close proximity, I'd prefer to do it in the interrogation room if it's okay otherwise I will think of another way."

Chameleon nodded with a grin, "As you say, Chief. I trust you to make the right call~"

You smiled in acceptance then suddenly felt her come closer and hold you tightly, so much so that she was breathing in your scent and you could feel her breath tickle your skin.

"Thank you, Chief."

They were simple words but they meant a lot to both of you.

"It's nothing, I'm just doing my job...."

Chameleon chuckled as she pulled back and cupped your face, her eyes flickering to your lips.

"Hehe, always so humble and adorable.... Oh, Chief, some day you are going to awaken the desires buried deep in my heart. If that happens, I wonder if you'd be able to bear them, hehe~"

Your lips curled up in a smirk, "Don't underestimate me, Chameleon...." You suddenly pulled her closer by her waist, making your lips almost touch hers.

"You should be the one ready to tame the beast if you awaken it~"

Chameleon's eyes flared up in excitement and she didn't waste another second to press her lips to yours. Your lips moved with hers in a passionate manner, ravaging each other like animals in heat. Her body fully leaned into you now, her hands possessively holding your face and tilting it as she pleased to kiss you deeper and harder.

"Ah, only you could turn my nightmares into dreams, my toy~"

[garaksapprentice]

Sewing Zero Waste Culottes from The Craft of Clothes

Zero Waste Culottes From The Craft of Clothes

Behold! Fancy pants!

The pattern for these pants was one of my Christmas gifts. It comes from Liz at The Craft of Clothes, a zero-waste designer. I've really gravitated towards self-drafting and zero-waste sewing in the last couple of years, and this pattern has been on my list for a good six months, so I was excited to get into it.

Drafting

The first step (after reading the pattern through twice) is drafting the pattern pieces.

My biggest starting hurdle was deciphering "the culottes are designed to sit on your waist" when choosing the correct pattern size. Most designers consider "the waist" to be the teapot - that is, the true waist. (It's easiest to find if you bend to the side and stick your hand in the crease - like you're singing "I'm a little teapot".) But some consider belly button height to be "the waist". I generally wear my pants at the latter height, and there's a good 2" circumference difference between those two for me.

I eventually decided to call my belly button my waist, on the grounds that that's where I prefer to wear my pants. It's also easier to take seams in than out, if I guessed wrong.

Decisions over, it was smooth sailing from there. Pattern drafting is not a technically difficult process, as long as you have good instructions, and Liz's patterns definitely fit that bill. But there's a lot of attention to detail required to make sure the end result is good. That sort of thing always makes me nervous. Fortunately there was only two pattern pieces to draft, and they're 98% straight lines and based off rectangles.

Interestingly, this is the first zero-waste pattern I've tried that has you draft pattern pieces to use. The others I've seen (most by the creator of this pattern - our library had a copy of her book, Zero Waste Sewing) have had you draw directly on your piece of fabric to create the layout. (In fairness, I didn't have to draft my own pieces. The pattern came with the option of self-drafting, printing on A4, or printing on A0.)

I much prefer the direct-draw method to faffing about with pattern pieces. But given that this pattern is designed to have the pieces tesselate, having a set of physical pattern pieces does make more sense. It's also got me wondering if I could successfully make a pair out of old jeans legs, using one leg per pattern piece. But then, I'm always looking for ways to use up my denim pile...

Sewing

I prefer structure rather than flow in my butt coverings, so I was somewhat limited in my fabric choices for this first pair. (I know the fabric I really want to use, but I am being a sensible apprentice and trying things out on a nice-but-less-hideously-expensive fabric first.) Most of my stash acquisition has focused on stuff for shirts, since I wear those out faster than pants. I eventually settled on this nice brick red, 100% cotton, table cloth.

The picture is suffering from sun exposure. It's nowhere near this bright in person.

I laid out the pieces and huzzah! The fabric was just big enough! ... But only if I unpicked the hems (they're monsters, a full 3 cm/1.2" each side) and ironed them flat first. Thus, it was time for a marathon unpicking and ironing session.

After that was done, I checked the pattern fit again. Huzzah! I had enough space for all the pattern pieces, and not very much scrap left over once I'd cut them all out. (Of course, it was late and I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have been, so I didn't add an extra inch when I was forced to cut the waistband in two pieces. There was enough extra fabric that this was only an annoyance and not a complete disaster.)

The fabric at the top is scrap. All but a few inches of the stuff on the right became waist bands and plackets.

Sewing was a fairly straightforward exercise, though it required enough brainpower that I completely forgot to take any progress shots as I went. Almost every step of the pattern comes with a diagram to show you what to do, which helped me immensely. So did having the seam allowances specified at each point, as there's three different ones used in different places.

That's not to say I didn't screw up, of course. While sewing the crotch seam, I somehow managed to close up the front of the pants entirely and leave a gap for the placket open at the back. (That will teach me not to double check the direction the pockets are facing before I pin and sew that seam. Maybe.) 

I also made a highly decorative and completely awful to sew with choice for topstitching thread, which I quickly became too stubborn to stop using. So the topstitching is, uh, not great. But it is purple and sparkly, and if I'd had any sense at all I would have left it til last (or even done some sort of hand embroidery with it).

I was tricked by the first line of stitching being so easy. LIES. It was all lies.

Why should I have left it til last? Because it turns out that the culottes are, in fact, designed to sit on one's true waist. Which meant I had a two inch difference between what I needed to fit me, and what the waist measurement was. If I hadn't top stitched the panels, I could have simply ran another line of stitching down the seams that didn't have pockets in the way, and taken the waist in without much fuss or bother. Unfortunately, I didn't do that, so I was left with two choices.

Take out the topstitching and take in all the panels, bitching and moaning about the effort I went to and the number of times the topstitch thread broke while I was sewing the stupid sparkly goodness onto things.

Work out how to take the waist in by the necessary two inches, using only the crotch seam and maybe some darts or pleats or something.

Choice #1 would have been the logical, rational decision, so of course I went with option #2.

An hour and change of basting, pinning and unpinning the waistband, and completely forgetting how seam allowances work later, I managed to get a fit I was happy enough with. I ended up grading in a dart-like object at the centre back. (If I decide later that I'm not happy with the fit after all, I'll try out the modification for adding elastic to the back waistband that the pattern also includes. Probably while questioning my life choices and lamenting the amount of time I spend with a seam ripper in hand.)

The original stitching line is in blue, the new one is in black.

After all that fitting woe, I wasn't in the mood to try buttonholes (my good machine, the one with the automatic buttonholer, is currently out of action). Instead I dove into my snap stash to close the placket.

I love using bright, vivid colours for inner details. It's the sewing equivalent of wearing leopard print underwear.

A nice bonus of using the snaps is that I could put them through just the placket, leaving the fly front clean. This did make the placket pull slightly when I'm wearing the pants, exposing a trace of bright red. I fixed that by invisibly whip-stitching through the placket and outer fabric to hold everything in place. Next time I'll also double check the understitching, and topstitch the edge if needed, before installing the snaps.

Field Test and Adjustments

Trying stuff on as you go is all well and good, but nothing tells you what you really need to fix like being out in the field. I quickly discovered several things:

The waistband needs serious help to stay where it's supposed to be. Which, y'know, I did make a size larger than I should have. This was not surprising.

The crotch needs to either drop a wee bit or (preferably) rise a couple of inches. The latter will likely spoil the skirt-effect somewhat, but it will be far more comfortable for my legs.

I need a loop on the waistband to hold my keys.

For the waist woes, I had a few choices - 1) belt loops, 2) suspenders, or 3) add elastic to the back waistband. Belt loops are fiddly to make and sew on, but would solve the key-hanging issue. Suspenders technically wouldn't need any sewing changes, but the clip-on style are notorious for pulling off when you're doing things. And while the pattern includes instructions for adding elastic to the waistband, I wasn't confident it would do the job I wanted (I stick a fair amount of junk in my pockets and elastic can't always cope with the weight).

After some dithering, I went with the suspender option for this pair. I like the look of them, and the "floating" effect they give when they pull the waistband a bit above where gravity wants it to sit is extremely comfortable. But I didn't want to deal with clips always popping off. So I indulged in a quick side-quest of improving my suspenders, then sewed buttons into the waistband of the culottes.

This used to hold the clips, but the wire was easy to bend flat with needle-nose pliers.

Gee, I wonder which buttonhole I did first?

Fashion Show

Overall, I'm quite happy with how it all came together. I'll definitely be making at least two more pairs - the "men's" version (less flare in the hems), likely out of recycled denim, and a pair in heavyweight stash linen.

The back panel adjustment is basically unnoticeable.

They have great range of movement - maybe I need to make a workout pair?

And I even have somewhere to hang my keys.

This post was originally published on my blog, Garak's Apprentice . I currently syndicate my content at Micro.blog, Tumblr, and Ko-Fi.

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[toomuchracket]

club nights (literal d word matty x reader smut)

day 16 of summer75!! post-baby, post-dh2 launch fuckery of the anal variety (girly getting it). surprisingly fluffy. enjoy! <3

the lights are hot on your skin as you dance, pulsing strobes illuminating everything and everyone in the club in stark white; still, they're nowhere near as warm as matty, pressed up behind you with a hand on your hip, your left arm slung lazily back around his neck as you move against him. kelly's set is good, and so is the vodka cranberry in your free hand, bass and booze coming together in your body and making you wanna move. you feel free. you feel happy. you feel sexy, although you're not sure if that's because of the night itself or because of your boyfriend, whose hands have been wandering all over you practically ever since you left the house.

you smile when he kisses your neck, giggling when he blows a raspberry. matty giggles too, smiling into your perfumed skin. “y'having a good time, gorgeous girl?”

“the best time,” you turn to face him, heart fluttering when you re-realise how fucking hot he looks. sure, you've fancied matty for almost a decade longer than you've known him, but lately he's been looking extra delicious to you - then again, you have just had his baby. your hormones must be going mental. “we should go out dancing more often, babe. s'fun when i'm doing it with you.”

matty raises an eyebrow, but he keeps smiling sweetly. “we've literally got a newborn at home, and you want us to start raving regularly?”

“yes i do.”

he laughs, leaning down to kiss you; it's not a long one, but you're woozy when he pulls away regardless. “so do i, darling. kinda obsessed with dancing with you like this, you know?” his hands continue their earlier trail across you, gentle yet eager. “can feel everything. fucking love it.”

oh, if he only knew.

you lean up to peck his lips. “could you maybe possibly feel your way to the bar to get me a refill, baby?”

“‘course,” matty pecks you in return, hands coming up to hold your face while he beams. “m'proud of you, you know. for lyla, obviously, but also for this,” he gestures to the crowds, too busy dancing to notice him. “s'your night too, sweetheart. enjoy it.”

you do just that while he slinks off to get your drink, hugging george to say “we did it!”, dancing with charli, catching up with your friends from the band and bea and amber, most of which is spent gushing over your baby girl, staying at home with both of her grandmothers at present. bea squeals when you show her a picture of lyla, and clutches amber's arm, tipsy-overwhelmed. “she is so cute! oh my god. i mean, she looks like a little doll. i love her!”

“bea, i'm actually obsessed with her,” you giggle. “you're lucky we even made it out tonight - got to the front door like five separate times before either me or matty teared up and had to go back for a cuddle.”

amber laughs. “he was telling me he wished he could've brought her with you.”

“god, he's a nightmare.”

“who is?” matty sidles up to you, handing you your drink and ruffling bea's hair - she swats him away, and he laughs, giving amber a half-hug before wrapping his free arm around your waist.

you smile at him, saccharine. “you, trying to bring our baby to a rave.”

“what? she'd love it,” he elbows you playfully. “she's her mother's daughter.”

“he's not wrong with that bit, to be fair,” amber takes a sip of her drink. “it is actually quite scary how much she looks like you.”

bea winks at you. “well, she knows what's good for her.”

everyone but matty collapses into giggles; he glares at bea for a second, then smiles. “yeah, she does. i mean,” he cups your face, squishing your cheeks playfully. “who wouldn't steal this face if they could?” dropping your face in favour of taking your hand, he turns to your friends. “see you in a bit, yeah?”

with that, matty leads you further into a darkened corner, weaving through vape clouds and various friends before leaning against the wall. you smirk, raising your eyebrows at him and leaning close so he can hear you over the music. “this feels… familiar.”

“what- oh,” he nods slowly, smirk matching your own. “nina's birthday. i remember,” his face softens, lost in a memory, before he speaks, matter-of-fact. “first time i ever saw you in red lingerie, that night.”

you choke on your vodka, eyes wide as you try to regain breath. “matthew!”

“what? m'just being honest. you don't forget a thing like that, darling, trust me.”

“christ,” you shake your head. “you're mental, you know that, yeah?”

“you're even more mental,” he bites back, but the love in his eyes is clear even in the club lighting. “having a baby with me, and all.”

“true,” you down your drink and lay the glass down, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's neck for a cuddle; his find home around your waist, lips softly pressing against your hair. “i miss her.”

“me too. mum says she's good as gold, though. which, again, is all you. my perfect girls.”

you smile into his chest. “love you. we both do.”

“oh, i love you both, so much,” matty leans down to kiss you, soft and sweet and slow; there's an undercurrent of lust, though, in the way he lightly bites at your lip and takes his time releasing it. “dance with me?”

you kiss him quickly again. “always, my love.”

and you do. you jump around like maniacs in excitement during george's set, holding hands and giggling and singing along, and when you shriek with total joy as soon as you hear yeah i know, matty cackles and pulls you close for a kiss. you stay like that for the rest of the song, wrapped around each other while you move to the beat, matty's face tucked into your neck in an adorable mixture of shyness at hearing his own voice and emotion about his best friend in the whole world taking such a big step in his career; actually, you stay like that for the rest of the set, so close it's hard to tell where matty ends and you begin, bodies grinding and sparking heat in each other in both the literal and metaphorical senses. by the time the night ends, the two of you are pretty fucking desperate for each other, kissing so sloppily while sharing a cig at the taxi rank that your friends can't help wolf-whistling and cheering and throwing digs like “oh, lyla's about to get a sibling!” at you.

you kiss in the taxi, too, little snippets of snogging and matty's hands roaming all over your thighs in between the driver yapping about this that and the next thing on the way to the hotel. matty does his best to answer politely, reluctantly breaking away from your lips to talk while you giggle behind your hand, but his exasperation is obvious - naturally, you rip the piss out of him for it when he throws you on the bed and climbs atop you to kiss you properly. “babe, i'm not going to disappear if you unattach your lips from mine for a few seconds, you know.”

he licks your nose in response, smiling when you shriek. “how else am i meant to show you how much i love and also fancy you?”

you shuffle down to kiss his neck, enjoying the way his breath shakes, dragging your lips up past his jaw to whisper in his ear. “fuck me.”

“oh, baby,” matty sighs, pressing his forehead to yours. “i wish i could, but, y'know… it's still too soon after you gave birth, darling,” he pulls back, confusion etched on his pretty face. “what are you smiling like that for? that's your sneaky smile.”

it drops, in favour of an expression of bewilderment. “my what?”

“you know, the face you make when you're up to something,” your boyfriend cocks his head, squinting at you. “are you trying to get me to fuck your mouth?”

“nah.”

“tits?”

“that would actually be a lot of fun, but also no.”

“hmmm,” matty thinks for a second, then sighs - you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at how clueless he's being. “nope, you've got me. explain, please, darling.”

“if you let me stand up for a second, i can show you what i mean.”

matty nods, rolling off you and lying propped up on his elbow while you move off the bed. he groans when you start undressing, slipping out of your cargo trousers and shucking your top off without breaking eye contact with him. “fuck, princess, you're so hot,” he claps a hand over his mouth when you raise an eyebrow at the pet name. “sorry, darling. muscle memory, i s'pose.”

“s'alright, daddy,” you wink, turning away from him to let him get a good view of your ass in your sheer panties; you bend forward, slightly, and you hear his breath hitch. “seems we're both thinking along those lines, yeah?”

it takes him a second to respond, but when he does, it's delicious - a calloused finger traces up from your slick core towards your other hole, and he speaks in a whisper. “you're plugged?”

“yeah, i am,” you toss your hair over your shoulder and your gaze follows, focusing on your wide-eyed boyfriend. “because i want you to fuck my ass tonight, matty.”

for a moment, there's silence, a tension permeating the air that you can't quite name. nerves begin to flutter in your stomach; they're dissolved almost instantly when matty flops unceremoniously onto his stomach, almost inaudibly shouting “fuck!” into the fancy bedding before rolling back to face you with defiant lust in his eyes. “you serious?”

“wouldn't have the plug in if i wasn't.”

he sighs, then smiles almost shyly. “part of me thinks i should be against this, but,” he sits up, tugging you to stand between his legs with a kiss to your stomach. suddenly, you're on his lap, and you can't stop beaming - he is so fucking hard. “who would i be if i didn't give my princess what she wanted, especially after everything she's done for me lately?”

your heart soars, and all you can do is kiss him, an absolute head-melter of a kiss that only stokes the heat between your legs, makes you grind even harder against your boyfriend than you were in the club. “thank you, daddy. love you.”

“i love you,” matty smiles against your lips. “missed you calling me that, you know.”

“more than you've missed being inside me?”

he laughs, the soft chuckle he reserves for the two girls he loves most in the world. “nothing i've missed more than that, gorgeous. can i… now?”

“yeah,” you breathe, desperate. “how do you want me?”

matty thinks for a second. “lie on your back for me, sweet girl, get comfy. that sound alright?”

“perfect,” with a final little kiss, you climb off him, shuffling up to rest your head on the plush pillows. as you undo your bra, the fluttering restarts in your stomach; instead of nerves, though, the butterflies are borne of excitement as you watch matty undress. he looks inquisitively at your weekend bag, and you know what it is he wants. “the lube is in the side pocket, by the way. packed a bullet vibe, too, but i honestly don't know if i'll need it.”

your boyfriend hums happily, climbing back onto you, bottle in hand. “so turned on you only need daddy fucking that pretty ass to make you cum?” he coos, thumb sliding across your lips - when you take it between them, he beams. “my little slut.”

god, you've missed this. “only yours. always.”

“perfect girl,” matty murmurs. “gonna fuck you now, yeah? you know your colours.”

“yeah.”

“good girl,” he sits back, tapping your thigh as a sign for you to lift your legs so he can slip your underwear off. his pupils dilate at the sight of the plug, but a sweet smile appears on his lips. “brat green jewel?”

“couldn't not buy it - oh, fuck,” you whimper as matty begins to toy with the plug, every movement sending a burst of pleasure through you. “feels good.”

“yeah? can i take it out, princess?”

you nod enthusiastically. “please. want you inside me, daddy.”

your boyfriend swears under his breath, snapping open the bottle of lube and squeezing some onto his hand; you watch with proper interest as he slicks himself up, practically drooling at the sight of him essentially wanking himself off. he grins when he notices you staring. “you're cute, baby,” he leans forward to kiss you, trailing a hand down your body to play with the plug again. “reckon you'll be even cuter taking my dick, though.”

it isn't so much a word than a whine that leaves your lips. “please.”

“alright, darling,” looking carefully at your face, he begins to gently twist the plug out of you - when you whimper, he pauses. “this okay?”

“yes, yes,” you pant. “keep going, please.”

matty nods, obliging you quickly; you feel the plug pop out, and he moans. “fuck, princess, you look so pretty, all ready for me like that. are you ready, sweetheart? what's your colour?”

as if it could be anything else. “green.”

he beams, kissing your forehead. “good girl. my best girl,” he coos, smiling when you giggle deliriously. “gonna slip in now, alright?”

“hold my hand?”

“always,” he takes your right hand in his left, kissing it before holding it on your stomach. you watch, breathless, as he takes his dick in the other hand, tentatively nudging it against your hole - as the head eases inside you, stretching ever so slightly, you exhale, stuttered, and matty looks tenderly down at you. “oh, my darling,” his voice is just as shaky as your breath, little whimpers leaving his lips the more he inches - well, centimetres - into you. “colour?”

you can barely comprehend him, the intimacy of the moment combining with the pleasure and clouding your brain. but still, you answer, voice nothing more than a whisper. “green. please don't stop.”

“okay,” he breathes, hand moving to your hip to steady himself. “almost fully in, princess. taking me so fucking well, feel amazing.”

you beam, dazed. “good,” your jaw drops as he finally bottoms out, eyes fluttering closed. “oh.”

“i know, darling, i know,” matty caresses your face. “d'you need a second?”

“yes please.”

“anything you want,” his lips find yours, the sweetness of his kiss completely incongruous with the fact the two of you are literally doing anal right now. but it's not totally innocent - matty's lust for you is clear from the way he kisses, and it energises you enough to pull back and bite your lip at him, a silent hint that you're ready for the next step. he takes it immediately. “you want me to fuck you properly, now, princess?”

you nod, doe-eyed. “yes, daddy.”

and that's exactly what he does.

it starts slow, of course, matty gently thrusting into you with his arms braced on either side of your head and his lips pressing soft kisses all across your face; when the desperation gets too much for you to bear and you give him the go-ahead, though, he begins to roll his hips with a bit more force into yours, little gasps leaving both of your lips and foreheads touching tenderly. you don't know whether or not it's purely psychological, more to do with the eroticism and intimacy of the act than the actual sex itself, but you can feel the pleasure jolting through you every time matty's hips meet yours, travelling through your nervous system to the familiar place in the pit of your stomach.

all in all, you can't remember ever being so turned on in your life. matty seems to think so, too, eyes widening when he looks down to watch your bodies joining as one. “fuck, princess, your pussy's so wet right now. can feel it dripping on me,” his voice is joyous; so are you, when he runs a finger over it and settles it at your clit. “you really needed daddy to fuck you, didn't you, sweet girl?”

“yeah.”

“needed this too, darling, so fucking much,” matty smiles sleepily above you, kissing you sloppily. “fuck, need to make you cum, too. can i?”

you smile back, equally as fucked. “can do whatever you want to me.”

he laughs, breathy and beautiful. “i love you.”

“i love you,” you pout for a kiss, smiling and gasping into him when he starts to properly work your clit with two fingers. “mmm, just like that, yes. don't stop.”

thank fuck your boyfriend isn't feeling mean tonight - he does as you say, keeping a steady rhythm with his hips and a consistent pattern with his fingers, cooing praises and promises into your neck in a determined attempt to get you off. a successful attempt, too, it turns out; within a few minutes (although your grasp on measuring time is probably dire at present), you're clutching at matty's shoulders, head buried in the crook of his neck, crying into him as you hurtle towards the precipice of orgasm. with a whimpered plea of “cum for me, princess, please”, you fall into bliss, clenching vice-tight around matty's dick and shaking like a leaf. that's enough to set him off, too, and he cums with a hoarse groan and an “oh, i fucking love you”, hips growing weaker and weaker as his orgasm wears off.

he doesn't linger afterwards, though. as soon as he can physically do so, matty's pulling himself up to hover over you, looking intently into your eyes to check how far you've slipped into subspace. despite the gravitas of the night, you're fairly lucid, and he smiles, satisfied with that, as he strokes your face. “you,” he begins. “are a fucking dream.”

“stop it,” you giggle, trying to burrow into his chest. “you're pussy-drunk. well,” you correct yourself as matty laughs. “not quite, tonight. but you know what i mean!”

“i do know, darling, i do,” he kisses your nose. “but you really are incredible. and i'd say that even if i wasn't balls-deep in your ass right now, so…”

“oh my god.”

matty laughs. “my cue to pull out?”

“i think so, yeah,” you grin. “mostly cos i wanna shower and go to sleep, honestly.”

“whatever you want, my love - hold my hand, by the way, this might feel weird… there we go,” matty winces, in tandem with you, as he slips out. his eyes widen as he takes in the sight of his cum dripping from you. “never ever gonna get over that,” he leans back to kiss you again. “thank you for letting me do that, by the way, darling. m'the luckiest bastard on the planet.”

you laugh. “and don't you forget it!”

he smiles softly, and you fall in love with him all over again. “never gonna happen.”

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Could you talk about the designs Viv makes? I don't see many posts talking about this and I wanted some design tips, I intend to post my own cartoon designs (I just don't know when) and I wanted some tips <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

Hey hey!! Id love to talk about designs!

I actually answered this entire question and then uh…. Tumblr deleted my draft so let me try to redo all this lmao

Vivzie has a problem with bodytypes I’ve noticed. Almost all of her cast is insanely skinny and the only two “plus-size” characters I can think of are Millie and Mimzy. Meanwhile, Angel Dust, Vox, Stolas, & Alastor are a few very skinny characters I can think of off the top of my head.

For the best example, I’m going to be using Vox for now. Here is my Vox design next to his canon appearance

They don’t look too different right? This is still easily identifiable as Vox because his main characteristics are there; stupid little hat, tv head, thats about it.

My design also keeps elements of his suit with the stripes and shoulder pads, though in my design his body is a bit wider and his shoulders + waist make him look more commanding and intimidating while still maintaining a sense of professionalism. As for his canon design, he definitely looks sketchy, but he doesn’t really give me that commanding sense of popularity or authority that I feel an overlord should have, especially one with such a wide range of influence as Vox. His canon design looks top heavy and a little pathetic in that “he was born in a wet cardboard box all alone” way. Don’t get me wrong, a small waist can do wonders for a design, but when your designs start to look like… this

I think you might have a problem.

Now, I know I am nowhere near the best character designer in the world, but I have designed my fair share and I think I have enough experience to flatter myself a little.

This is a very simple design choice to make. Body types are probably some of the most intricate and interesting parts of a person in my opinion, and with a lineup like this where everyone looks more or lest the same from the torso down, it’s kind of a dead and sad looking cast, and not in the intended way.

I’m aware my designs are very detailed and wouldn’t be easy to animate with my style, but it’s very easy to draw extra body types with a style fit for TV.

Gravity Falls is a great example of stylised bodies and also using them to build personality. By looking at these characters you can generally tell what their base personality is probably like right? You can do the same thing to an extent with the Hazbin Cast, but all of their designs get muddled into the other. Can you even tell where half of these people are positioned in this screenshot

It’s so pink and red im going to start seeing green when I look away. There are so many colours, use them!!!! You can still slap a red overlay over it and make it “look like hell” or whatever, but you’re still gonna have more variety.

Here’s my body/fur references for Angel and Husk. They are almost entirely opposite to eachother but you can probably get an idea for how they are based on colour and shape. I recommend studying other TV shows and things like anime or movies to see how body types and colours impact character design, but general things I always think of are, like I’ve said, body type, personality, colour, and silhouette. Silhouette is a bit harder to pin since a character can have a very recognizable silhouette and still not be a good design, but honestly to me as long as you can tell which character is which from silhouette you’re good to go on that front.

- Generally just don’t reuse the same colour palette over and over (heres some of my hazbin colours)

- Give diversity in shapes when you can and when it benefits the design

- Try to show their personality through their clothes and pose

- Don’t be afraid to add little physical or personality details that other people might not notice, a good design should keep you interested in tiny details like that or surprise you later on

- Pay attention to what would and wouldn’t make sense (ex. A character that doesn’t like modern fashion wearing modern fashion)

Im not the best at explaining all of this but I hope you could grasp even just a tiny bit of an idea from this! At the end of the day as long as you’re having fun and not actively harming people with the designs then you should be good to go

[blackdollette]

LOVE. - clyde

✩♬.ᐟ now playing: love - lust for life

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: to be young and in love...

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999@josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl @romanroyapoligist@auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @vanlisbon @lankysimp @simply-stellarr

female!reader x clyde

word count: 771

contents: fluff, drug usage, shotgunning

whenever you were with clyde, time was only a concept. you were two young and fiery spirits who had an unexplainable passion for timeless music that neither of you were ever sober enough to understand. you called it vintage, and he called it retro. not that it really mattered, though. your frequencies were always synced either way.

you often wondered what life would be like if you had never met him, thinking back to that one fateful day when you were both 16. he was a scruffy boy who was in desperate need of a haircut, clad in a blue flannel, green cargo pants, and held a well-used skateboard under his arm. he had taken your virginity, ran away with you, and stopped your first high from being horrific. as strange as he was, you couldn’t help but think he was the coolest guy in the world.

he had his leg pressed against yours one night, a stupid little smile spreading on his face as he watched you take your first hit of a joint. “when the smoke’s in your mouth, make sure to inhale a little. don’t wanna waste any of the good stuff.” he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you for a minute as you cautiously inhaled the hot smoke, an equally burning heat resting on his cheeks. you blew out a dainty little ribbon of smoke, shyly looking at him as you searched for his approval. he patted you on the cheek and messed up your hair a little. “atta girl. you’re already a pro.”

he grins, watching you inhale and exhale the smoke. after watching you for a few seconds, he takes the blunt from you and takes a hit himself, then he hands it back to you. “here, give me your hand real quick.” he grabs your hand and pulls it towards his mouth. when it's near enough, he blows out the smoke that's in his mouth and blows it on your hand. your hand feels like it's covered in a thin layer of smoke. he laughs and pulls your hand away from his face “watch, the smoke is going to leave an imprint of my lip. It's a trick I learned when I was a little kid at a party one time, when I saw a drunk guy doing it to a girl's hand.” you couldn’t help but laugh at his little magic trick, feeling like you two were the only people in the world at that moment. the night ended with you two shotgunning until he turned blue in the blue.

late nights on the streets with his arm around your shoulders and his shaggy flannel tied around your waist made you feel like you were on top of the world, careless and ignorant, yet wrapped with a cloak of innocence. you weren’t afraid to take on whatever this cruel world threw at you, because he would always have just the drug to ease the pain. he had given you a chance to see life through the lens of his crystal blue eyes. he had never been the poetic type, but he liked to say that you were the high that he’d been chasing his whole life. what ever that meant.

you loved to get all dolled up and pretty for him whenever he made plans for the two of you, even if it was nowhere in particular. wearing your flowy white silk dresses or some baggy jeans and sneakers, from live concerts to getting kicked out of underground clubs, it didn’t matter because simply being in his chaotic presence was enough. 

you were always engaged in any deep conversation he felt like bringing up at the time, even if he always did more of the talking. you sat on a park bench with him one day, kicking around stones as you braided his chestnut brown. a blush creeps back onto his face as he looks back at you. “it's not fair how every time you tell me how you feel, you make me fall in love with you all over again. i love the way you talk, with the way you speak and just how cute you sound when you’re higher than a kite. and i will never get over your cute little giggles. and you always make me warm inside when you smile. and you make me feel young again, like being with you makes me feel 13 again…’

he gave you the resting reassurance that you didn’t need to worry about the future or anything to come. he granted you more fun and pleasure than any drug ever could. and you knew that was all you needed, because you were young and in love.

author's note: day one of valentine's season!!

[theepisceswriter]

UNTITLED — TOJI FUSHIGURO

♡ Synopsis: Your shitty emotionally unavailable boyfriend who only has a dick to offer you returns

♡ A/N: This was a quick lil 1AM creative writing drabble that turned into more than it should've. I'm a sucker for deadbeat Toji so I'm always writing him sawry. Also someone help me with a title for this because I can't think of one to save my soul.

♡ W.C: 1.4k

♡ TW: F!Reader, dirty talk, penetrative sex, doggy style, afab body parts, it gets kinda angsty towards the end. Enjoy 18+ bookies!!

You swore you had self control. Hell, some of those closest to you would even say that you’ve helped give them a sense of self control. Years of trials and tribulations that could’ve been avoided if only you put your desires to the back of your mind is what you have to thank for the wisdom you carried.

Or that you thought you carried.

Years of self discipline were thrown away the moment the raven haired heart bandit showed up on your front door with that signature smirk on his scarred lip that let you know he was up to no good. But then again, when was he ever doing anything good? It was him and being put through the wringer of a long term relationship (if you could even call it that) at one point in your life that led to the journey of you rediscovering yourself. You were nowhere near the same woman you were when he ghosted you all those months ago and he knew that which is why he was back. And you knew that too.

Soon as you out of people's lives and start doing good is when they start to miss you, or whatever it was Nicki Minaj said.

“No, I’m not doing this again–” You began to slam the door shut, but of course you were no match for Toji’s strength. In one swift movement he was inside of your apartment with the door closed and locked behind him. To be fair, you didn’t put up much of a fight or restraint. Whether you did so intentionally or not was up for debate.

“You know you missed me.” He teased in a sing-song like voice. Slick like a fox, his arms snaked around your waist and pulled you close against his chiseled chest. So close that you could feel the erratic thumping of his heart in his chest and body heat radiating off of him. Was he nervous?

Before your lips could even part to ask him a question or chastise him for holding you in such a loving manner like he didn’t basically abandon your relationship months prior; he spoke up first.

“I missed you.” His voice is a whisper and a reply from you is stunted once more by him when you feel the soft caress of his knuckles against your cheekbones. They lit up red with each lingering touch, a delicate side to him that you weren't able to see often. A smile forming on his lips knowing he still had you under his effect

If you knew it was this easy for you to fall back into your ex-lover’s warm embrace then you wouldn’t have even moved from the couch when you first heard the doorbell ring.

But, it was too late for all that pondering because your mind was already made. If anything, your mind didn’t have the capacity to think at all at that moment; the moment now moved to the bedroom where you were situated at the edge of the bed with white knuckles from how hard you were gripping the sheets while the madman behind you delivered the most lethal backshots to your sopping cunt.

“Oh FUCK, Toji, just like that, baby!” You did your best to moan out through clenched teeth while biting down on your silk satin pillowcase. Just like clockwork, you were back to oh so fondly screaming his name like he never left. Toji was enjoying every last bit of this. You could tell by the sultry smirk that grazed his lips, threatening to be broken every second by the low growls that left his lips. He was doing his best to contain them, but that was almost impossible from how good your slick walls felt clenching around his girthy cock. And he wasn’t even all the way inside of you yet.

“You kept this pussy nice and tight for me while I’ve been away, haven’t you baby?” SMACK! His large calloused hand came gripping down on your asscheek, his fingers firmly dimpling the soft skin before landing another blow. And then another. And then another until he built up a rhythm similar to the one you had going while you fucked yourself on his cock with little help from his mercy thrusts.

“Answer me, cmon you’re a big girl I know you can use your words.” SMACK!

“Yes–OH! Fuck yes, I’ve been waiting on you. Nobody else can fuck me like you can.” You confessed in a moment of vulnerability, eyes shutting on instinct when his dick hit a new sensitive fleshy part inside of your pussy that left you shrieking into the covers. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you moved in a position where it was easier for you to throw your ass back on him while still maintaining your balance – for however long that would last. 

“Good girl.” He awarded you with a grunt, handing coming down to smack your ass one more time before he placed both of his hands behind his head. Watching intently where his cock connected to your poor stretched-out hole that was gripping on tightly to his throbbing member every time he moved his hips back. 

Through hooded eyes you looked behind you to be met with a scene porn studios wish they portray as sexy on screen; Sweat crystals glistened across Toji’s chest, his raven hair was pressed firmly against his forehead with sweat almost covering his eyes, and cockiness reeked from his body as he thrusts into you with swirling hip movements with no hands to level himself. Making sure you remembered why you crowned him as your best sex experience.

Even with both of his hands behind his head, the loss of leverage didn’t stop him from delivering lethal thrusts to your pussy. If anything it allowed him the correct angle to bottom out in you which sent you and your poor cervix into a frenzy.  The slight sharpness of pain mixed with pleasure was all too much for you after not having sex for so long. Instinctively, your hand went to his lower abdomen, slightly grazing his fuzzy happy trail, and attempted to slow his brutal pace just a bit, but he was quick to shut that down.

“Move your hand.” With the same velocity he had shown your ass cheeks minutes later, he was doing the same with your hand and made sure to pin both of your arms behind your lower back. It was something about seeing you squirm underneath him that made him forget just how crazy you were able to drive him at times.

 Your presence was intoxicating to him and it was scary. If he had the ability to be honest with himself then he would realize that there was truly nothing more he wanted in life than to have you by his side, protecting and providing for you 24/7. He would even go as far as saying he wanted commitment, but how could he when his actions didn’t match his thinking?

He wished, almost down on his knees praying one night, that he could have the emotional availability to love you how you deserved to be. And at this moment, with your bare back now pressed against his solid chest and one of his hands clad around your neck to keep you close to him, it felt as if his tender fantasy could be a reality. One could only hope. 

You had no idea of the tender thoughts swarming his mind, but they manifested physically through soft touches you wouldn’t expect from Toji like the gentle kiss he just placed upon your forehead. It was a juxtaposition to the hate you had been brewing for him in your head for the last couple of months, how could you betray yourself like this? You didn’t have time at this moment to question why you held onto this false hope of a relationship between you and Toji. You just wanted to enjoy the time you were spending with him now, even though it was far from idealistic because you had no idea when he would be in your presence again.

Maybe in that instant both of your tender thoughts aligned subconsciously; The two of you finding yourselves gazing at each other lovingly in the midst of lust and connecting your lips for a passionate kiss neither of you wanted to break away from, ever.

[chastiefoul]

midnight drabble | alhaitham

this is truly just me rambling and i realized it's alr 1k words

-

“haitham, you’re a terrible drinking buddy.” you put your drink aside, crossing your hands at the table as if preparing for a serious conversation. “i don’t think i’m responsible into living up the expectations you have of me in your head.” he said quietly, sipping on his drink. “always so serious, you do know this is why i’m your only friend at akademiya, right?”

“well-“ he started and you quickly cut him off. “stop. don’t start with me. even if kaveh was held at gunpoint i think he’d still hesitate on calling you a friend, and you know that.” the retort left the man that sat across you speechless.

to be fair, the word friend that said to describe your relationship also doesn’t sit right with alhaitham. he didn’t know when it started, but he definitely know that he yearned for your affection, longed to hold you, to call you more than a friend, to tell you that your presence had made his bleak life more exciting and fun—words that he did not use often before meeting you. however, he would also like to take this useless realization down to his grave. every other day and whatnot now you really loved to remind him that you’re his only friend, doesn’t that make it very clear where your stance is in this relationship thing?

for now he had to settle that being near you is enough.

“what are you thinking?” you said, ceasing his train of thought. he looked at you whose voice slightly slurred. “nothing.” he thought about drinking more but drew his hand back seeing how you’re getting drunk and it would need someone sober to bring them home. “lies, your face shows otherwise just now.” you put the weight of your head on your right hand, staring intently at the gray-haired male. “just.. a deadline i forgot.” he rested his gaze somewhere else. you snorted loudly, like a wave of laughter just hit you suddenly and you couldn’t hold it in. “fine, i won’t force you to tell. but you’ll have to know that’s a very bad excuse, mr. ‘i always submit my work a week early’”

“touche.” alhaitham drank to that.

-

“i’m done here, wanna head back?” you started to stand up, heading out from the tavern. haitham paid the tab and was quick to tail you out. contrary to what he always said the next morning, he really didn’t mind taking care of you when you’re drunk. if it means more time being close to you like this, then he wouldn’t dare to mind.

not long after following you, he saw you standing still looking around for something. when he reached your vision, your eyes lit up. “there you are!!” you put your hand around his waist, dangerously low—and certainly low enough to make the usual stoic man slightly flustered. he sighed, having seen this way too many times but he hadn’t allowed himself to be used to this. not when he could lose this familiarity any second of the night.

“you’re always so-” he cut himself off, knowing whatever complaints will fall on deaf ear. so inconsiderate as to how i feel.

“let’s get you home first.” he put an arm on your shoulder, his big hand rested on the side of your upper arm. unlike usual where you just let yourself dragged around by him, this time you just stood there, not budging.

“haitham, kiss me.” you casted your gaze down.

“i don’t kiss drunkards,” he nonchalantly said, thinking it’s just another of your rambling under the influence of alcohol. but when you looked at him, he was surprised at your serious expression, traces of being intoxicated was nowhere to be found.

“then what if i’m not drunk?” you asked, this time your eyes was unwavering, looking straight at the male in front of you. he seemed a bit conflicted, still wasn’t sure if you’re being honest or not. but it was true, you only ordered grape juice a moment ago. come to think of it, assuming that you’re drunk wasn’t really your fault now is it?

haitham is a tough nut to crack, even more so than some researches you were forced to jump into as a student at akademiya. however under the layers of that, you could not help but be drawn to him as you get to know him. haitham who’s always seemed so out of touch with his emotions, when it turns out he’s just having a hard time understanding things that is not in text books. you saw the way his eyes drooped ever so slightly every time you said you had to go out of sumeru to work on a project, or when his lips displayed the tiniest smile when you told him you would wait for him in the library to go home together. his gestures were extremely subtle but you could not let it go unnoticed, especially when you’re about the only person whose presence let him to lower his guard.

“then how about this, kiss me first then you tell me if you taste any alcohol or not.” it was a daring move, but it was a needed push. alhaitham wanted to refuse, probably, although that thought went away as quick as it came when your hand came in contact with his cheek, bringing his face close to you. “make sure to taste it, alright?” you whispered, then leaned in.

the kiss was intended to be short and sweet, however you’ve underestimated your own desire to have this man’s lips against yours. his kiss quickly became intense, yet it’s still gentle. with one last peck you parted, “how about it?” you asked. “not terrible.” he said curtly, the last ounce of composure he had manage to reply. but it clearly betrayed the pleasant expression he had on his face completely.

you raised an eyebrow, implying that clearly, it was not what you asked. haitham stared at you and a realization hit him, perhaps pretty hard since he decided to rest his gaze elsewhere but on you. “no alcohol.” he confirmed.

“so, not terrible huh? i thought it was pretty amazing.” you teased, peering at him. he clicked his tongue, still a bit flustered. “stop teasing.” he sighed.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.” you confessed, the night breeze freshened your head a little. haitham was having a hard time believing that. “and this is coming from someone who’s so adamant in saying that you’re a friend?”

“yes, and that’s coming from someone whose face always becomes strange when i said it? tonight was for that, if you had refused to kiss me then that’s that.” you said. “i don’t think i could ever resist you.” he said honestly. his bluntness made your heart skip a beat.

“well next time, we’ll just have to do it in a better place and time.” you smiled, “next time, huh?” he pondered, this time he put his hands on either side of your waist bringing you close. he stole another kiss. “can we just do it whenever?” another kiss.

“can’t get enough?” you teased. “never.” he replied. you tangled your hand to his grey locks, bringing him close for another kiss yet again. fortunately it was way past midnight and you were both at the darker side of the road which would be no matter since it’s pretty much empty.

you both pulled away.

“not a really terrible drinking buddy anymore, don’t you think?”

[itty-bitty-writes]

The Shrinkie Sex Club Part 2: Giants

[part 1: Intro]

Logan considers his options. “Giants,” he decides. “I think I would like my initial experience with this fascination of yours to not also include a drastic physical change.”

Remus laughs, leading him down the hallway to the giant side. “That's fair,” he says. “I still hope to talk you into shrinking with me today.”

“We'll see,” Logan says, a smile playing across his lips.

“So, you got any ideas on what you wanna try first?” Remus asks as they reach a large room. There are a few other people present, but it's nowhere near crowded, and the present occupants hardly acknowledge Remus and Logan's presence, much more interested in their current intimate activities.

The room is dotted with several waist high plinths, each of which supports a rectangular box. Roughly half of the boxes have holes in the sides, and the other half have open tops. A man stands near one of these, looking contemplatively into it, his hand hovering over the opening as he decides.

There are benches scattered around the room, some next to the plinths and some separate, and more benches ringing the walls. There are also curtained doorways leading off into what Logan assumes are private rooms. There's a colorful infographic on the wall, but they're too far away to read the words.

“I don’t know,” Logan says in answer to Remus's question. “I haven't considered it in detail yet.”

“Do you want to let the tinies pick?” Remus suggests. “I was gonna say we should grab a couple out of the free use boxes to play with, but we could do the glory holes instead.”

“The what?”

Remus grins. “Yeah, you know, you stick your dick in a hole in the wall”— he gestures at the several boxes with holes in their sides, into one of which someone indeed has stuck their dick—“and do a sex with a random person on the other side. Same as a normal glory hole, except here the other people are only as big as your dick, max, and sometimes there are several of them!”

“I see.”

“You can also give them your ass,” Remus continues, “but it's a bit awkward to get the position right, and you won't always get a taker.”

Logan nods. “And the… ‘free use’?”

“Over here.” Remus leads him to one of the open-topped boxes. Looking inside, Logan sees a miniature room with a tiled floor. Inside that room are several people who can't be more than a few inches tall, mingling as casually as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

Logan's never actually seen shrunken people before, and for a few moments he just stares. They're incredible, human beings in perfect miniature. They look incredibly delicate, though he knows from his research that they are actually absurdly sturdy. Something about the shrinking process making them more compact. It wasn't his field of expertise, and he'd been more focused on other particulars.

“The hats are color coded by what they're into,” Remus explains, and Logan notes that every tiny person in the box-room is fully nude except for what appears to be colorful swim caps. “So you just pick out some that look interesting, and then you can do whatever.”

“I see,” Logan says.

“These guys are the mediums,” Remus adds, and points to another box. “There's larges over there, and itties, there. The glory holes are sorted by size too, so even if you wanna let the tinies pick what you do with them you're gonna have to pick what size to start with, and if you want to mix and match you gotta pull from multiple boxes.”

“Is there a best size?”

“That depends entirely on what you want to do with them!” Remus says cheerfully. “Itties aren't great for anal, cause you can barely feel them, but they are amazing going down the inside of your dick, and the others aren't gonna fit in there. But don't let me tell you what's best. You should experiment and draw your own conclusions.”

“Very well,” Logan says. “In that case, I want to start with…”

[bellysoupset]

Leo could run really fast when he decided to. Even through the slippery roads and snow covered grass.

Jonah caught up with him by the gates of the Banks residence, Leo braced against his knees, folded in half heaving in the snow.

"Aw, my love..." Jonah sighed, carefully stepping closer and planting a hand on Leo's shoulder, only for the blonde to shrug him off, coughing and sniffling.

"No-no... D-don't touch me..." he groaned, removing a hand from his knees and wrapping an arm around his stomach, squeezing it and up came another painful retch, as well as tears running down his face. Jonah's heart was physically hurting from seeing his boyfriend this distraught.

"Darling," he whispered, hands itching to touch him, "you're alright, just take a deep breath. I got you..."

The next heave was actually productive and Jonah grimaced, turning his head to avoid looking at the mess sinking in the fluffy snow. He glared up, realizing Leo was throwing up right in front of the cameras and cringed at that. He hoped his father and sister weren't home or at least nowhere near the CCTV monitor.

Leo let out a little sob, wiping at his mouth and straightening up. His blue eyes were even lighter than normal, filled with tears and his nose wrinkled as he said in a heartbroken voice, "Luke... Luke's depressed and we- I- I didn't-"

"No, Leo, don't do that," Jonah stepped closer, forcefully pulling his boyfriend into a hug, "Lucas is an idiot who'd rather curl up and die than to admit he needs help. It's not your fault, love. Even Bell didn't know."

"But I- I should... I know the signs... The symp-" Leo hiccupped, burying his head in the fur collar of Jonah's jacket, "I should've..."

"No, no, you couldn't have known. It's not your fault, baby," Jonah squeezed him a little tighter, "once we're back home we'll get Luke help, okay? I'm sure Bella is already on it. He'll be fine."

"He didn't look fine," Leo whispered, pulling back and wiping at his face, angrily, "I'm sorry, I'm making it all about myself, but you've known him for way long-"

"That's nonsense, stop apologizing," Jonah rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around Leo's waist and stopping him from stepping away. It was only partially to his boyfriend's benefit, Jon too felt like he needed a little grounding, "let's go inside, okay? It's freezing out here."

"We should go back, we left Bell all alone..."

"She's taken care of Luke a billion times before," Jonah pulled out his keys from his pocket, tugging Leo towards the smaller gate, "and I don't think she wants us there for the moment. We'll call in a bit."

"Okay," Leo mumbled, hugging himself and shivering as the wind picked up, making his hair twirl, "yeah, let's go insii-ide," he said, teeth chattering.

Angie was sitting in the living room as they walked in, the fireplace on and she was sitting criss-crossed on the rug, journaling. Jonah opened a small smile at the sight, slamming the door closed behind them and causing her to look up.

"HEy!" Angie's face lit up with a smile, but that quickly wavered as she took in Leo's disheveled appearance and Jonah's pallor, "uhm... Everything okay? I was about to go over, I thought we were supposed to ice-skate today?"

"Sorry, Ange, Luke is sick," Jonah answered, while shoving Leo towards the armchair closest to the fire, "we just left, he's down for the count."

Was close enough to the truth.

Angelina pouted, shoulders dropping, "I knew I shouldn't have slept in," she grumbled, "it's not fair, you guys wake up super early, I can't do half the stuff with you."

Leo let out a small, weak chuckle, "I'm sorry, it's just force of habit..." he said softly and Angelina immediately looked at him, raising her eyebrows.

"Are you okay? Are you sick too?" She looked between Leo and Jonah, frowning, and Leo shrugged.

"Just need to warm up, that's all," he answered, causing her to stare at him even harder, clearly not convinced.

Jonah cleared his throat, "come help me make tea, Angie. You drink tea, right?"

"Of course," Angelina sprung up, promptly following Jon out of the living room. Leo let out a relieved sigh and curled up against the armchair, stretching his arms out to get the heat of the fire.

He couldn't stop shaking, even if only a parcel of it was due to the cold. His heart was still beating really fast as he realized Lucas had been depressed for two months and none of them realized.... And that Vince was leaving. Whatever that meant.

His mind was jumping around the sentence, refusing to process it. Leo leaned his head back and closed his eyes, shivering again, only to startle as suddenly there was a blanket thrown around him. He looked up, expecting to see Jonah, but instead it was Angie, tucking the ends of a baby blue blanket around him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," her cheeks turned dark with a blush, "uhm... Bye," she squeaked, then turned around and ran back to the kitchen, causing him to laugh, snuggling in the blanket a little bit more.

He fished his phone out of his jacket's pocket, closing and opening his hands to warm them up and then clicked on Vin's contact, scrolling through their conversation. Not one mention about leaving.

Leo glared at it, typing a text and sending it before he changed his mind:

Leo: what is it that I hear about you leaving? As in leaving town? For good??

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

"And he's alright now?" Christopher asked, his arms crossed to his chest, watching Luke curled up under the blankets.

"Alright is a little bit of a stretch," Bella whispered, turning around to face her father in law. Father-in-law, it still sounded made up, she thought sourly, "he's still running a pretty high fever, but it's nothing like it was this morning."

She followed him out of the room and Kit glanced over his shoulder one last time, clearly concerned.

"I think I should send for a doctor."

"Over a fever?" Bell raised an eyebrow, barely managing to bite her tongue over worries about medical bills and insurance. Those things were beneath him, Kit Howard would never understand her hesitance over calling a doctor because of only a fever.

"You said he was nearly delirious," Kit pointed out and Bella cringed. He had come back home, or rather, gotten out of the studio, three hours before, when she was still panicked as hell and in the middle of bringing Luke's fever down, mind going a mile a minute over the fact he was depressed. She had overreacted.

"Well, like I said, it's not as high now. I'm gonna keep an eye on him and Jonah said he can take meds again in two hours, so-"

"Jonah," Kit scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Jonah's not a doctor, he's a child."

Bella raised her eyebrows, feeling a flare of annoyance, "he is a doctor, Kit, one who just graduated with honors. I trust him entirely."

"Well, forgive me, but I don't trust the wellbeing of my son in the hands of Jasper's spoiled brat. I'm calling in a real doctor," Kit rolled his eyes, before sighing and rubbing at his neck, forcing up a smile, "look, dear, I'm sorry for snapping at you. We're both just worried about Luke, that's all."

It was jarring how quickly he could flip flop between moods. Bella crossed her arms, unsure if she should take the apology or tell him to shove it up his ass. She opted for not saying anything, letting the awkward silence hang in the air.

Kit let out yet another heavy sigh, smile wavering as he realized it didn't work on her, "you mentioned needing his insurance information...?"

This was better, practical. Bella nodded, still all tense, "I think he needs to see a psychiatrist or a therapist. I'm not sure what's the difference... One of those."

The older man continued walking away from the room, forcing Bell to follow if she wanted to keep up the conversation. He was frowning, looking both concerned and confused.

"Luke needs a shrink?" he repeated, once they reached his office in the second floor, "my Lucas?"

The possessive particle caused her skin to crawl. Bella nodded, "yes, your son."

Kit rolled his eyes, sitting down on a chair, "dear, I understand you're worried. Coming home isn't easy for Luke and much less when he's ill, it reminds him of his mother. That doesn't mean he needs to be put in the loony house."

Bella glared at him, "I didn't say any of that. I said he needs a professional, because he's not been well for a while. And I'm not asking for your permission, I'm asking for the number of his insurance, so I can call them and set up an appointment."

She knew she had antagonized him, because Kit immediately tensed up, glaring right back at her, "so you can call my son crazy and keep all his money? You think yourself very clever," he leaned back on his chair.

"His money!?" Bella's voice went up a notch, her stomach dropping and her face burning as if she had just been slapped, "I don't want anything to do-"

"Please," Kit groaned, waving her off, "you think I don't know your type? I got famous at nineteen, Isabella, I've met a hundred different versions of you before. Lucas is sheltered, which I'm to blame, I'll own up to that, but I'm not. You don't fool me."

Bella's hands were shaking, but her voice was steady as she grabbed on the back of the chair before him and held herself up high, "this isn't about me, this is about Lucas. Who's not well and hasn't been well, I'm going to guess, his entire damn life. He needs professional help and you can call me names and threaten me, but I don't need your permission to do anything."

"Fine," Kit shrugged, "go on. Don't think you can get away with it, Luke might be smitten right now, but he's not stupid and he'll soon come to his senses. Then what? You're going to baby trap him?"

"I don't want his damn money!" Bella exclaimed, feeling her eyes burn with tears, but refusing to let her voice break, "what is wrong with y-"

"Do you think I was born yesterday? We both know you married him in Italy because if it had been here I'd have made you sign a pre-nup longer than the bible," he got up too and Bella was suddenly reminded he was just as tall as his son, twice as intimidating.

She gulped down, but stood her ground, "as soon as Luke is better, we're leaving. Congratulations on being the worst father I know, Kit," Bella spat the words, shoving the man back for good measure since he was up in her face and turned around, rushing back to Luke's bedroom.

He was still asleep, buried under all the blankets, face all flushed from the fever, completely unaware to what had just happened. Bella locked the door behind her, before sliding down and falling on her ass, burying her face in her hands and taking deep, measured breaths.

Her whole body was shaking with anger and humiliation and she wanted nothing more than to be comforted, but Luke was sick and had no emotional structure for this and Jonah and Leo were a house away. Besides, she couldn't tell Leo this, not when Jonah's family had received him with open arms, not when she knew he had the same insecurities she had.

Bella curled up, hugging her knees to her chest and cried quietly.

[aniron48]

24. just really needed a hug sort of hug for 00leiter would be amazing if inspiration strikes! 🥰

Alex, mi vida! Thank you for always inspiring and indulging my deep-seated need for 00leiter, and thank you for this prompt. 🥰 Your wish is my command, my friend! It's here, continuing below the cut, as well as on ao3:

sometimes it takes the night to fall

“My mother wanted me to go to law school,” Felix says. His tone is measured, and this, this, is something he’s going to include in his annual performance review at the Agency, which his supervisor signs every year without reading a word: Agent Leiter is calm and measured, even when he is soaking wet, covered in pink feathers, and holding a flash drive with the plans for a chemical weapon designed to take out half of Europe, circumstances which Agent Leiter would have avoided entirely had his MI6 counterpart not been a fucking asshole.

“‘You’ll make good money, son,’ she would tell me,” Felix says. He pulls his Glock out of his holster, pointing it toward the floor to let the water drain from the barrel. “‘You’ll wear nice suits.’ But no, I knew better. I didn’t want to take the motherfucking bar exam.”

“You wear nice suits now, Felix,” Bond drawls, looking him up and down, and Felix is either going to punch or kiss that look off his face, but he hasn’t decided which, yet.

“Normally, I would agree with you, James,” Felix says. Measuredly, again, because he’s a goddamn station chief for the CIA. “But right now, my nice suit looks like it survived simultaneous explosions at a poultry farm and a Pepto-Bismol factory.”

Felix had had plans for their mission in Prague, plans which involved a timeline, and coordinates on a map, and the judicious use of SIGINT. James Bond had had instincts, and even if those instincts had been accurate, as far as identifying the Belarusian middleman they were looking for went, his methods left a lot to be desired, seeing as they primarily involved a chase through a crowded craft fair in the center of town, followed by what could charitably be called hijacking a bachelorette cruise in order to chase said middleman down the Vltava River. And now here they were, on a deserted dock in a decidedly seedy part of town, mercifully free of bachelorettes, but with an unconscious henchman tied to an oil barrel behind them, waiting for the ride that would take them not to their warm, comfortable hotel room near Karluv Most, but to the U.S. Embassy, where Felix could hand off the hard drive and then spend the rest of the night filling out the ream of paperwork required after the sort of nuclear-grade shitshow James Bond tended to leave behind him on a good night.

“I think I know what you need, Felix,” Bond says, and the way his mouth turns up at the corner can’t mean anything good.

“What I need,” Felix says, “is not to be picking penis-shaped confetti out of my beard.”

“No,” Bond says, stepping closer, and if the British exfil team doesn’t get there soon, Felix is going to paddle to the Embassy on a goddamn inflatable canoe, “No, that’s not it.” 

He brings a hand to the back of Felix’s head, drawing him in close. “Why don’t you start by putting your arm around my waist.”

They’re Felix’s own words from years ago, directed back at him with Bond’s characteristically lethal precision. Not long after the events in Bolivia, Felix had flown into London for the memorial service of another MI6 colleague who had died in the line of duty. Later, after everyone else had left, he’d joined Bond where he stood in the back of the church, stiff with grief and the bone-deep chill of the British winter.

“She drowned, you know,” Bond had said, his tone conversational. “004, I mean. She deserved better. It’s a terrible way to go.”

Bond and Felix had been lovers for mere weeks at that point, if that designation even applied to the handful of hours they’d stolen in South American hotel rooms and, on one memorable occasion, the lost luggage room of a train station in the middle of nowhere. But Felix wasn’t an idiot. He’d been in Venice when Vesper died. Even then, he’d known Bond well enough to know what wounds would be fatal to him, if left untreated.

“It is,” Felix had said. He hadn’t dared to say much of anything else. “I’m sorry for your loss, James.”

“It’s England’s loss,” Bond had said. He’d already begun to go distant around the edges, all of the lines of his body tensed for a fight. Felix had wanted nothing more than to demand Bond come back with him to his hotel room, to fuck him fast and merciless until all the tension bled from his body, until he was easy and louche again, unspooled against the Egyptian cotton sheets. But his first instinct with Bond wasn’t always the right one, back then, and he’d looked at Bond in silence for a long moment before making his decision.

“Come here,” he’d said. “I’m going to give you a hug.”

Bond had looked at Felix like he’d just suggested they piss in the baptismal font. “A what?”

“A hug, Bond. Jesus Christ. Come here.” He’d pulled Bond in by the lapel of his expensive wool coat. “You start by putting your arm around my waist, like that. Then you put your other arm around my shoulders. Like this, asshole. And then—” Felix had squeezed with all his might. “Then you hold on tight.”

They are here, now, tonight—and by “here” Felix means Prague, means the dock, means covered in dirty river water and the detritus of phallus-shaped souvenirs, but he also means so much more than that—in no small part because all those years ago, his own instincts had been right when he’d taken James Bond in his arms in an empty church, and so as angry as he is, he’s powerless to deny James this, now. He gives in to the inevitable and steps into the embrace, dropping his head against James’s neck.

“I hate you,” he says, but there’s no longer any heat in it. “This was the worst night of my career.”

“The ladies liked it,” Bond says.

“The ‘ladies’ thought we were strippers. One of them threw her drink on me when I refused to take my shirt off.”

“The night is still young,” Bond points out. Felix refuses to turn his head to look at him, on principle, but he can feel Bond’s smile against his cheek.

“Fuck you and your entire country,” Felix says. “I’m glad we threw your fucking tea in the harbor.” But his head is still on Bond’s shoulder, and his arms are around his waist, and he’ll stay that way until the sound of a distant motor signals that their ride is near, and the night moves on around them.

[litgwritersroom]

okay hear me out: smut with tom. it’s on the villa near the end and you two go out to the daybeds and we’ll y’know. he’s super nervous and she just kindove has to comfort him the whole time and he keeps asking her if everything he does is okay bc he just wants to please her

EVERYTHING ELSE IS ENTHUSIASM

Tom / MC - 2100+ words - @mrsbsmooth NSFW

“Well… enthusiasm at least...” He swallowed, hard. “That… won't be a problem.”

“Are you sure about this?” Felicity asked, as she watched his hands shaking. Tom nodded, pulling the covers back for her, and she slipped under the blanket beside him. 

The daybeds weren’t ideal, but they couldn’t get into the hideaway, she’d already snuck off and tried. Felicity rolled toward him, and he pulled her close. She’d been waiting for weeks, and the intoxicating scent of his cologne already had her pressing herself against him, just about ready to wrap her legs around his waist and fuck him for three days straight. 

She pressed her lips to his, hungrily, with only about ten percent of the desperation that she felt between her legs, but there was something still so hesitant in his kiss. 

She stopped to take a deep breath.

“Babe,” she whispered. “If you don’t want to, we can wait. I know you said you didn’t want to do bits on TV. We don’t have to change that now.”

“I…” Tom sighed, pulling her closer. “Can I be completely honest with you?”

Felicity nodded. “Always.”

Tom looked into her eyes, his own wide and innocent, as he chewed the inside of his cheek. 

“My hesitation wasn’t entirely to do with the fact we’re on TV. It’s… I’m not…,” he cleared his throat, lowering his voice to a little above a whisper. “I'm not terribly experienced. Relationships are new to me. and I'm not... I just worry that...”

He dropped his head to her chest, almost as if he was hiding his face, and Felicity couldn’t help but burst out laughing. 

Tom tensed, and she stroked his hair, tilting his head back so he’d look at her. 

“Babe…. Duh.”

His face fell in confusion, and she shook her head in disbelief. “I figured that out about five seconds after meeting you. And it doesn’t bother me.”

Tom looked up at her with those big, innocent eyes, as if she’d just said something so magical he couldn’t quite believe it. 

“It doesn’t?”

“No!” she smiled. “Not at all! If you’re willing to let me lead, I'm happy to take control.”

“Even though I might be awkward?”

She kissed him gently, calming herself, and nodded.

“Even if you’re awkward. The thing that matters above everything else is enthusiasm.”

“Do you think?” his eyes widened. 

“Mmhmm, think about it. If you’re talking to someone, and the conversation’s technically quite good, but the girl clearly doesn’t want to be there, that’s a big turnoff, right?”

"Of course." Tom nodded. 

“But if a girl’s talking to you, and while the topic isn’t that interesting, she’s nodding, and smiling, and looking at you like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be…?”

Tom nodded contemplatively, hesitating for a moment before speaking. 

“Well… enthusiasm at least...” He swallowed, hard. “That… won't be a problem.”

Tom’s cheeks flushed pink at his own boldness, and he looked away. God, she loved having this effect on him. She’d been with her fair share of men before, most of them quite experienced, but none had made her feel so… 

Desired.

Tom looked at her like he couldn’t believe she was with him. Stars in his eyes, lips parting in awe, completely dumbstruck whenever she entered a room. He fumbled his words, and whatever was in his hands. He walked into doors when she kissed his cheek. Broke into a sweat when she slipped her hand into his.

She couldn’t help but be a little worried that seeing her naked might knock him out cold. 

She threaded her hands into that beautiful, soft hair, stroking it as she pulled him in closer to her. He obliged, trailing his lips along her cheek, before delicately brushing them against hers. They were soft, just like his skin, that flawless close shave that he’d somehow managed to perfect. And his cologne, God. For a man so apparently inexperienced in sex, he smelled like a connoisseur. Refined, but fresh, like the first sip of whisky on ice. An explosion of cedar and amber wood. Something richer, something more elegant, something so sensual that almost made her forget it was Tom.

It was one of the first things she’d noticed about him. That first moment where he’d gone slack-jawed, and she’d leaned in to greet him with a polite hug. She’d barely wanted to let go, his cologne like a drug that she’d never realised she was already addicted to. It had taken everything she had not to whisper into his ear how much she’d loved it. How badly it made her want to never unwrap her arms from around his neck.

And now, here he was. 

Under the blanket, his hand slipped under her top, gently brushing her waist like he was asking her permission to go further. It took all her willpower not to giggle at the politeness in it. Felicity reached for the bottom of her t-shirt, pulled it over her head, and handed it to him. 

She was still completely covered by the blanket, but in the soft glow of the fairy lights, she watched his eyes fill with desire. He rolled his lips together as if he was already tasting her on them, and kissed her again. 

Harder.

She tugged his shirt from him like it was suffocating her, shuddering with anticipation as he lay his bare chest against hers. Parting her legs slightly to wrap them around him, his weight on her intoxicating, she felt his body heat starting to rise. He gathered her up into his arms, pulling her closer, and she almost gasped.

Those arms around her had always made her feel safe, but now, they were like an aphrodisiac. She ran her hands over his biceps, and onto his broad shoulders, savouring every inch of his skin. She buried her face into him, inhaling deeply, scratching her nails up the back of his neck and into his hair. 

And he groaned.

His skin erupted into goosebumps under her hands, and he pulled her closer, wrapping her up once more in those arms that had her dizzy from their strength. She could feel how hard he was, his hips pressing firmer and firmer against hers as she wrapped her legs around him. She could almost feel his torment; wanting her body, wanting to take more of her, but afraid that taking what he wanted would push her away. 

Well. 

It was time to show him that she wasn’t going anywhere.

Felicity rolled him onto his back, pushed him to lie down, and tugged his shorts off. Tom protested out of some kind of shame, but she wasn’t going to be hearing any of that. She settled between his legs, and before he had a chance to say anything else, she took him in her mouth.

In the faded light, as she looked up at him, she could’ve sworn she’d electrocuted him. His hands flew to the wall above him, pressing against it, his lips parted, eyes closed, breath caught in his throat.

It was all she could do not to break into a grin. 

He remained frozen like that for a few seconds while she swirled her tongue over his tip, and he seemed to melt underneath her. He exhaled, shuddering, that deep, guttural groan from his throat as he threaded one hand into her hair.

“Oh God,” he whispered, opening his eyes as if he really was seeing heaven; his hand gentle and praising as he stroked his thumb against her cheek. She moaned at the affection, the act so very and perfectly him, and made him jolt again.

She was slow, her movements gentle, taking her time as she teased out what he liked. Even with zero words between them, his reactions to her every movement told her exactly how to please him. He sparked under her touch, or shuddered, or gasped; responding so viscerally that she figured him out in no time. 

God, she loved him. 

He was so easy to read, every twitch of her tongue like a zap through his body; how his abs clenched as she took him deeper, or how his fingers tightened in her hair as she moaned. She found a rhythm in only minutes, no doubt helped by his responsiveness, silently telling her exactly how he wanted it, and she was only too happy to give him everything he was too polite to ask for.  

Until he started asking for it.

She wasn’t sure she heard him correctly the first time, but the second time, she was sure. It was rasped, from the very back of his throat; a voice she’d never heard, nor expected. It was desperate. It was needy. It was…

“Deeper,” he whispered.

A rush of adrenaline hit her like a whirlwind, the thrill of hearing him ask for it driving her just a little bit wild. She adjusted her position, holding his thighs, taking more and more of him into her mouth until he was hitting the back of her throat. Tom groaned again, and she practically whimpered in response, almost embarrassed by how much this was turning her on. 

But she wasn’t stopping.

Over and over and over, she gave him exactly what he wanted, moaning and letting his tip slip into her throat, making his breath catch each time. She knew he was getting close, but no part of her wanted to show down, even when he began tugging gently at her hair to try and pull her away.

“Darling,” he whispered. “You need to sto–”

She almost growled in response, doing nothing but lifting her pace. The pull at her hair became more insistent, his breaths deeper, his words more and more jilted. But still, she didn’t release him.

He felt so good on her tongue, every ridge of him, the taste of him, the way his body contorted and responded to her every move. She wasn’t stopping, she’d already decided. She wanted to taste him fully, to have him lose himself in her mouth, to bring him to the edge and push him over it, watching him while she showed him exactly how badly she wanted to make him feel good.

“Flick–”

His voice was shaking now, his abs clenched; a bead of sweat on his brow as he tried desperately to hold back. But she didn’t stop. She just looked up at him, watching his face contort as she held her pace exactly as it was. She was holding him there, dangling him off the edge, and she’d never felt so powerful. He was panting. Sweating. Struggling to hold on; and she just gave him more. More, and more, and more. He was properly pulling her hair now, his fingers tangled and desperate, as she dug her own into his hips. She used her nails, the slightest bit of pain drawing his attention. 

And he looked down.

“Oh fu–”

He lost control, his body contorting and jolting as he finally let go. All she could do was moan as he involuntarily thrust into her mouth, coming down her throat with such force that she was sure it’d been far longer than he’d insinuated. She held her rhythm, keeping the pace through each jerk of his thighs, only slowing once he began gasping for air.

Slowly, she released him, savouring the taste of him in her mouth, as he watched her with a relaxed confidence that she’d never seen before. Wordlessly, she shuffled back up beside him, and he pulled her close to his side, kissing her gently. But before she could smile, or ask him how it was, he rolled her onto her back.

Felicity gasped as he began kissing down her body, over her breasts, and onto her stomach, slipping his hands into the waistband of her shorts as he began tugging them down. She couldn’t help but giggle at the self-assurance, but when he looked up at her, there was very little hesitation in his eyes.

“Babe,” she smiled. “You don’t have to return the favour straight away, we can rest for a second if you w–”

A knowing smirk tugged at his full lips, and it quietened her almost instantly. She’d never been silenced by a look before, but that look had her lost for words. 

“I’d very much like to do it right away,” he cooed, trailing his lips lower and lower, letting his tongue dart out and wet her skin as he closed in on where she was practically shaking to have him. 

“In fact,” he whispered, kissing her one final time, before parting her with his fingers. “I’m quite enthusiastic about it.”

And just like he had done, the moment Tom’s head disappeared between her legs, her body jolted; her hands flying to the wall above her head as she gasped. When he'd said he wasn't experienced, she thought he'd meant...

Her thoughts were interrupted by those massive arms wrapping around her thighs, opening her wider as he dragged her down the daybed toward him. She grabbed his hair instead, her eyes rolling back as whatever he was doing had her gasping for air.

Oh. 

Fuck.

That’s enthusiasm.

[fabbyf1]

Hello my sweet, beautiful besties!!!!!

I am so deep in the dando brain rot that it's not even funny. I am 23k into the dando WIP... and I am terrified at how long it might end up. I have the rest of the fic mapped out in a cursed spreadsheet, and uhhhhh... after 23k, we're nowhere near the end.

So, I may have genuinely out-fabby'd myself this time.

Love this for me.

Anyway, I wanted to give you guys another snippet while I cry about dando instead of working. I know I've been a bit quiet on here lately, but it's all to do with how deep into the fic I am, so it'll pay off in the long run.

(NSFW) Snippet under the cut!

“Why are you still dressed?” Daniel asked and cursed when it came out much whinier than he had intended. Daniel needed to get a fucking grip. What the hell was happening to him? But then Lando made that pleased little hum again, that new noise that Daniel wanted to cry about, and he couldn’t help but enjoy the sound of it. 

“You want to see me naked, baby?” Lando asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm but his eyes bright with fondness. It was like whiplash to Daniel’s soul. He knew Lando was teasing him by calling him that, but he couldn’t help how it made his cock jerk. 

Being called baby had always been his weakness. 

He just didn’t usually expose himself like this so quickly. 

“Yeah, come on,” Daniel finally answered, pushing Lando’s shirt up his stomach. Fuck, Daniel might actually start drooling. He swallowed and reached down to wrap his hand around his cock again. Lando laughed, but it was softer this time, his eyes full of delight as he pulled his shirt the rest of the way off. Daniel took in the sight before him and couldn’t help but groan, “Jesus, Lando.” 

Lando was always so covered up. He always wore hoodies and long pants, and it wasn’t fucking fair because, under all of that, he looked like this. Daniel knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help himself. Seeing Lando’s body up close was a privilege, and Daniel didn’t intend to waste it. 

“Like what you see?” Lando asked, rubbing a hand over his abs and up to his peck. 

Daniel’s brain short-circuited a bit.  “Jesus, Lando,” Daniel repeated, letting go of his cock to grab Lando’s waist instead.

[sondrox]

Infernal Tales Ch. 10 - An awkward and steamy talk

Synopsis: In the heat of Charlie and Vaggie getting down to it, Vaggie commits one small slip up, Charlie takes an unfair advantage out of it.

At the hotel—and even before that—Charlie and Vaggie’s nights together usually went two ways.

They went happy sappy and ended quiet.

Or they went quiet and ended happy sappy.

That night it would be the latter.

Vaggie had arrived to their room, but didn’t see or hear Charlie’s cheerful presence nowhere nearby.

She grunted mildly to herself. That on its own was nothing strange. That had become sort of an occurrence between them since they started Charlie’s redemption program. She carried on and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner and spend the end of the day together.

Shortly after, Vaggie could hear the door open and close softly, followed by steps just as soft, caught by Vaggie’s vigilant ears.

It was not like she even needed any of those sensorial clues. Charlie just emanated such a presence Vaggie could almost detect her by just being near her.

What she couldn’t detect, however, were the sinister eyes narrowing on her with malicious intentions.

Said sensation only amplified as Charlie walked up to Vaggie’s back. Deep giggles followed by a touch just as deep on her arms, thin and long white fingers met wary grey shoulders, giving a light massage as Charlie rested her head on top of one of Vaggie’s shoulders and her face on her neck. Skin against skin.

“Hey hun,” Vaggie greeted a worn smile instinctively raised.

“Smells delicious.”

“Well missy, why don’t you put the plates and I’ll—”

“I wasn’t talking about that.” Her words smiled—if that was even possible.

Before Vaggie could wonder and ask she meant, Charlie embraced Vaggie in a hug, stretching her arms across all of her torso and pulled her closer. Close enough Vaggie could feel her back against Charlie’s chest and her warm breath before she gave her neck deep kisses.

“I’m hungry of you.” Charlie grumbled as she began to drag Vaggie alongside her out of the kitchen.

The way Charlie fondled her hands against Vaggie’s sides made her legs melt like jelly, making her later attempts to resist fall in vain.

Charlie’s fingers running so lightly across her skin made Vaggie shiver as she put her down on the bed.

“That’s not fair…” Vaggie panted as she failed to keep her stare grievous and strong, her own smile betrayed her.

“Is not my fault you have ticklish skin, my itty-bitty moth.” Lust filled her every word. Her voice deepened the longer she maneuvered Vaggie like a doll.

“I’m not sm-small!”

“What was that? Your voice sounds so cute when you’re nervous.”

Vaggie managed to make her brow turn bold. “If I was nervous, could I do this?” Vaggie put her hands at Charlie’s waist and drew her closer to herself. Charlie now sat on top of Vaggie’s hips. Close enough Vaggie connected her lips to hers, at the same time she began to work up on unbuttoning Charlie’s tuxedo. Experience allowed to do just that with her eye closed.

Charlie did not lag behind and began to do the same; she had an easier time, Vaggie was not the one who spent fifteen minutes in the mirror just to make sure she looked stupendous, not to mention her clothes were also easier to put on and to remove; much to Charlie’s glee.

Sooner than later, the two of them were wrapped intimately between blankets, flesh, sweat and panting gasps every few seconds.

“Fuck…Charlie!” Her eye rolled to the back of her skull as she arched her back, hands wrapped tightly around at the large bump Charlie’s head made in the blankets. Said bump moved forward until Charlie revealed her face and she rested her head slightly above Vaggie’s chest.

“You like that?”

“Y-yes!” She panted. Each sigh drained all the lungs out of her lungs.

Charlie narrowed her eyes in amusement and poked one of her pink cheek with one of her fingers. “Hmm…I don’t think I believe you! You’ll have to try a little harder than that.”

“Charlie, for God’s sake! Please!”

“What does God has to do with this?” Charlie said with an unfitting natural tone.

Suddenly all of her warm—and more than warm—presence vanished for a second.

Struggling and gasping, Vaggie opened her eye and stared confused at Charlie across their bed. Did she do something wrong? It was her time to top now?

“Is something wrong, hun?”

“Hm? Oh, no! No, is just…it feels weird to mention…him now out of all moments.” Charlie’s eyes fell into nowhere specifically at their room, lost somewhere in between their bathroom and the balcony. Her face filled with that expression she had when the bolts inside her brain turning.

“Charlie, what are you even talking about?”

“I’m saying it feels weird for you to mention my grandpa.”

Vaggie blinked. “Your wha—”

It was then it hit her.

Charlie was Lucifer’s daughter. And Lucifer’s father was…and therefore Charlie’s grandfather was…

Oh.

Oh.

“Oh fuck…so when I…”

Charlie bit her lips trying to suppress her laughter before she burst it all out, still laying in top of Vaggie’s torso.

“I killed the mood, didn’t I?” Vaggie’s face filled with wrinkles in shame.

“Hey!” Charlie said. “You may be as wrinkly as a dry grape someday, that doesn’t mean I won’t still drag you to bed every night!”

In Vaggie’s mind, the mental image of herself being as old as her actual grandpa when she was alive was certainly NOT helping her right now.

“Should I start saving up for oxygen tanks from now on? One day you’ll walk into a room and you’ll just take my breath away!”

“Charlie, that was a horrible pun.” Her face started to blush in a dark grey.

“Oh My,” Charlie feigned an old lady’s voice while smiling from ear to ear. “ThE yOuTh NoWaDayS iS sO dIsReSpEcTfUl!”

“You are literally TWO HUNDRED years older than me!” The blush increased.

“ThAt’S nO wAy To TrEaT yOuR eLdErS!” Charlie waved her index finger from side to side pseudo-scoldingly.

“Please stop!”

“WhEn ArE yOu GoInG tO vIsIt Me? I gEt AaAaLl LoNeLy HeRe In ThIs OlD hOuSe!”

“I’d rather drink coffee all week!”

Vaggie got off Charlie and laid next to her, hands covering her face as she tried and failed to hide her embarrassment.

“BaCk In My DaY, MeN UsEd To Be MuCh KiNdEr!”

“Charlie, I’m not—!”

A knock came into their door around at 2AM. Vaggie managed dragged herself out of Charlie’s playful and unwilling-to-let-go hold and dressed up as quick as she could. She opened the door as she rushed to put up the straps of her undershirt and found Husk, Angel, Cherri and a few other patrons at their door. Various degrees of baggy eyes and tiredness filled all of their faces.

“I can’t believe I’ll be the one to say this,” Angel said, wearing a large pink robe. “But can you two goddamn quiet it down?”

“Vaggieeeee! I’m all lonely hereeee! Come back to bed!”

Why wouldn’t the ground swallow her right there and now?