#yes this is a shameless reference

[sidethatyoudontknow]

*looking at gihuns ass* inho: damn I wanna wreck that ass so bad

Salesman/dak ho: never thought you'd be that type of guy boss

Inho: what the fuck was that supposed to mean??

Salesman/dak ho: I just thought you'd rather get fucked than fuck

Inho: heck no, hwangs don't bottom

Salesman/dak ho: ...

Salesman/dak ho: was junho adopted?

[miqojak]

Once upon an FFXIVWrite I made an homage to Disney's Aladdin, and somehow Crying Dove, the brothel Madam, became a recurring NPC.

Prompt #5: Vault

( @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast​ for the prompt! And @miqo-vynnie for the mention!)

“In trouble a little early today, aren’t we little Jackal?”

Her lungs burned, and the warped wood of the door against which she pressed herself scraped against cloth and flesh alike, splinters prickling like burrs.

“Only in trouble if I get caught!” Breathlessly, does she spare a disarming smile for the matronly woman sweeping her stoop, and she was off again - long legs carrying her down yet another of Ul’dah’s alleys - as a man’s voice cried out behind her, “Thief! Street rat!”

As she vaulted herself over a low wall, she clutched the parcel with its contents close, “It’s just a little lunch!” The bite of a blade into the wall behind her was all the answer she needed, as her tiny feet skidded around a corner.

None of the passersby stood in the way of her escape…but neither did they assist her. Such was the way of the world - each and every one of them struggled, but to aid another in their survival could cost you your own. 

One stolen cloak later, she’d curled her tail up and around her - hood pulled up - and ducked into one of the less seedy brothels. She didn’t begrudge the workers…she and Vynnie did what they had to do as well, after all…but today’s mission was, quite simply, to cut through to their back alley and backtrack on her own trail. The guards would keep going, and she’d be -

“I told you to keep your little Jackal paws out of my den of debauchery ‘less you was lookin’ for work!” The buxom madame stormed into the room, and Jak picked up speed, calling over a slender shoulder, “The Blades don’t appreciate I’m broke, Dove!”

Crying Dove was a towering woman, and Jak would rather have the Blades pissed at her, than this woman. You didn’t fuck with Crying Dove. Not even the Brass Blades…unless it was in the literal sense.

“Yeah, and they’d appreciate you more with your legs open, and mouth shut - instead of all the grabbing you do with those damn sticky paws of yours!” Dove didn’t give chase - there was some…grudging respect there. Both women made their way in the world the only way they knew how. Dove just didn’t want the law coming down on her in force, and the little thief tried to respect that. Even if she did keep refusing Dove’s offer to earn a more…’steady’ income. 

With time, and a nigh photographic memory of Ul’dah’s interconnected alleyways, she made her way back to the grungy shithole she and Vynnie called home - and tossed the little burlap-wrapped bundle his way, where it knocked him in the side of the head, “Eat up.” She threw herself down on a pile of dilapidated cushions, “We’re going to have to switch up how we do this, because I can’t keep leading the Blades through the alleys of Ul’dah like baying hounds.”

He rubbed at his ear, and spared a look half-frustration, half-concern, as he rather obviously looked her over for blood, or wounds. “You know, I had an idea.”

His twin looked at him quizzically, in the fading light of day, as he continued - mouth full, “I call it: The Seduce and Snatch.”

[novankenn]

The Sequel!

(A/N - Let's see what we can do with this!)

It had been 14 years since his one and only son had been born. The auspicious day heralded in a new era for the Arc clan. The baby making had ceased. The combined might of the mothers of his children deciding it was time to focus on raising and educating their brood over just expanding it.

But the hints were still there, Everyone was still hale and hearty... and once his oldest started moving out on their own... they may start the process over again. But however that was beside the point. His 9 oldest had decided with some urging from their mothers and aunts and grandmothers to bring home their boyfriends or girlfriends... to meet the family.

While Jaune knew that his children would never let ANYONE hurt or disrespect any member of the family, as the father... he had an age old duty to fulfill, but due to the sheer size of the undertaking he called in assistance. So there seated on three couches in the massive living room, sat the 9 would be paramours.

Across from them the father of their love interests. Before Jaune his 14 year old son, with his shoulder length dark brown hair put up in twin-tails, while wearing baby blue tights, a pink sundress and black flats. stood. Jaune knew after this... meeting... he was going to have to talk to his brood again about playing dress up with their brother.

Flanking Jaune was his reinforcements for this task. The grandfathers and grand uncle of the family. To his left stood Qrow and Taiyang. To his right Ozpin and Jaune's father. Behind him using his imposing size stood Ghira.

But there was one other, that even the assembled group of men was a little shocked at seeing. Standing behind the collected young men and women seeking approval to continue their relationships, was one Jacques Schnee, flanked by a squad of SDC security drones. One for each of his granddaughters and half-granddaughters.

Jaune's mind remembered something about Willow enlisting Salem's help in putting Jacques straight, and for several years the man had been banned from family outings. But then sunlight broke through those dark clouds, and the Schnee Patriarch proved his "worth" b y not only restructuring the SDC, but also himself.

Jaune: So... *Jaune's support as smirked... sinisterly* ...you want to date my daughters...

[octonerd]

Well, I'm immediately intrigued by this role swap au.

Could we get more information about the specific criminal work Isabeau did? You say he was a smuggler by daylight, but what about night... LIGHT? 👀

this man was kicking ass in illegal fighting rings at night!! He earned the majority of his money from his night gigs. Of course he didnt have fights every night so he worked for his manager (a infamous crime boss) on the docks during the day :3

[roninreverie]

Everyone's out here making "Empire Strikes Back" comparisons, so how about a "Return of the Jedi" one?

Side-Note! While I was looking up the Leia Saves Han scene, I was reminded of Han's hibernation sickness from being stuck in Carbonite. According to Wookieepedia, a cure for this sickness is a spice called "Andris"... And Andris was mentioned in a book from 1998 called "Young Jedi Knights: Return to Ord Mantell".

ORD MANTELL!!!???

[theunconcernedembalmer]

I just so happened to have this shitty comic drawn because I'm currently insane over these two specifically

featuring my other bastard @the-bloodline-embrace

[averlym]

,,, little lemmings in line...

[justabigoldnerd]

"January Embers"

By JustABigOldNerd on Ao3

Tags:

Pre-Relationship, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Dungeons & Dragons, Fireplaces, Anti-Tiefling Racism (Dungeons & Dragons), Food as a Metaphor for Love, Worried Napoleon Solo, Illya Kuryakin is Bad at Feelings, Gaby Teller Is a Little Shit, Drabble, Humor, Fluff, Light Angst, POV Napoleon Solo

Characters:

Illya Kuryakin, Napoleon Solo, Gaby Teller

Word Count:

2,840

Summary:

Fireplaces are NOT beds. For most people. Illya is not most people.

Excerpt:

“Then, please, enlighten me. Define a tiefling,” Solo threw open his arms, acutely aware that all other voices had ceased and that the attention was solely on them. “Horned beasts, cold-blooded, with pointed tails and a penchant for stealin’ things.” A few patrons raised their voices in agreement, and the barkeep grinned smugly at him. “Well that clears everything up,” he purred venomously, then twirled around to face the gathered townsfolk. Solo gestured to himself, plucked a mug of ale out of the closest hand, and took a swig of it before announcing, “Behold! A tiefling!”

[chibishortdeath]

Ya know what I think is really sad? There’s so many artists who have worked on Castlevania that either don’t get credited, have incredibly little information about them, or aren’t appreciated nearly as much by the fandom as others. It’s to the point where while I was looking up information for this post, Google was only giving me Ayami Kojima as the answer for “who painted the Castlevania 1 cover art”. Which is so sad because! like! I love Ayami’s artwork!!! But she is not the only artist for the series! And I love everyone else’s artwork too!!!!!!!! :(

Anyway, the only information I could find about the art of CV1 and CV2 is that Noriyasu Togakushi was the character designer for the games, as well as for CV3. But I’m not sure which artworks he did for these games. Some sources claim that he did the cover art for the first two games, others (updated just as recently) claim that the cover artists for both games is completely unknown. And I’m not sure if he did the cute little manual doodles and concept sketches either, but I’d say those are probably more likely his since cover arts were commonly outsourced at the time and concept sketches like that seem more in line with the work of a character designer, but I could be wrong. Sadly, many websites have a habit of crediting an artist and then not specifying what works are theirs. And judging by how little information there is regarding everyone involved with working on those games, even the main writer/director, it’s also possible that we might not actually know which works are his.

Regardless, I wanna thank this guy for probably having designed Simon Belmont, the man I draw or want to draw almost every day of my life :)

I hope that the images show up correctly cause I’ve been having some weird issues with images lately. When cropping the image, it shows the correct one, but the thumbnails aren’t showing up right at all on my end. I was initially going to make this a larger multi artist appreciation post, but I don’t wanna have all the images switching for no reason with that many images ugh. So uh yeah ok bye—

[the-rainbow-meme]

not a single mentally stable, sane and diligent person in sight

[lemongrass--tea]

My part of an art trade with @graveyaird !

Their farmer Alys and Elliott uwu

[popcorn-plots]

I have the free time of a four day weekend but I have no motivation--

here, have a poll. I'll work on each fic from most votes to least votes

[suzyqueuedraws]

Finally had the motivation to make a Town of Salem self-insert because why not.

Made myself a Vigi because that got the most votes on this poll btw on my fandom blog @baby-chirp.

[snowbatsims]

Pastell Legacy #6

A young man stands in his vampire uncle's house. It just so happens that while we were being distracted by vampire shenanigans, this man somehow had a child. Alone. Thing is, his husband is still very dead. How did- how is this possible?

KRÅKE: Hi!! Sorry for just kind of walking in uninvited... oh huh.

KRÅKE: Well, you seem oddly human. MARIA-ELISE: I sure am. Just moved in the other day - my child lives here. KRÅKE: I was looking for the local vampires? MARIA: Ah. I don't think they're awake right now... KRÅKE: Oh.

MORTEN: Who said I wasn't awake? MARIA: Just an assumption, dear. It's barely 5 PM. MARIA: Also, can we please heat up the house while you're all asleep? It's so chilly in here. Winter is approaching.

MORTEN: I mean... personally, yeah, I'd absolutely let you, but this kinda feels like something we should bring up with the rest first? MORTEN: Some of us are absolutely terrified of unattended fires and all that. MARIA: I'll watch over it! KRÅKE: True, it's pretty cold in here! You'd think this place was inhabited only by the undead or something.

MORTEN: ...

BABY: bweh, MORTEN: wait is that a baby- KRÅKE: Anyway, yes - the reason I came here was because I was looking for babysitters. MORTEN: Who's this baby? KRÅKE: He's mine.

KRÅKE: So... long story short, basically it turns out I got pregnant from Rolf, my fiancé, before he died... and now all I have left from him is this child. MORTEN: Oh, congrats! Sorry about your loss... MARIA: Pregnant? You? But you're -? KRÅKE: A trans man, actually. Still had that uterus. Anyway,

KRÅKE: This here is Rolf Junior. My one and only child. Heir to the legacy. MORTEN: D'aw, he's adorable... wait, legacy?? KRÅKE: Of course. Anyway, I would really love him to meet his other father someday, but to do that, I will have to get better at magic. Master my necromancy... KRÅKE: And to do that, I will have to let someone else raise my child in the meantime. And that is where you guys come in! MORTEN: You can't be serious. KRÅKE: I am dead serious. MORTEN: No way. MORTEN: I mean, we're kind of undead monsters and shit. One lapse in control, one too many blood meals missed, and-

MORTEN: RRAar. Your baby. Gone. Forever. You don't want that. Me neither! MARIA: Morten dear, didn't you guys raise an alien child to adulthood at some point? That clearly went fine!

MORTEN: Well yes, but consider this: Bat thinks alien blood is absolutely nasty. Human blood, however... MARIA: Ah. MORTEN: Also, what if someone like Vladislaus showed up? He definitely seems like the baby eater type. MARIA: Vladislaus? MORTEN: Vlad Straud the fourth. Awful old cranky Dracula type of guy. Terrible man! I heard he literally keeps human prisoners in his basement for their blood, but those might just be rumors. Very believable rumors, that is.

MORTEN: And... he knows where we live. So if he knew we were hiding a human baby here, he'd show up in no time. Maybe even control some of his mortal familiars to abduct the child. Baby blood is literally a delicacy to him! MORTEN: And then we'd never see Rolf Jr. again. If you leave him here, better say good-bye to that little bundle of joy... You know other vampires would be all over this baby like - KRÅKE: Alright, fine, I get your point... MARIA: (should I be worried?)

[hillsofuhhtennessee]

tfw you find a blog that’s a fantastic reference with some really interesting stuff on it… and its’s been sparsely updated over the years because the author got fucked over mentally. Oof I get a taste of my own shit, since I have multiple people who constantly ask if I have new content when I just… don’t and interest from others is just not a big motivator for me.

(At least that last part is a double edged sword since some of my favorite work is stuff only for myself I can’t post publicly and that doesn’t bother me)

[thehoneybeestings]

──˚₊•Sugar Plum•‧₊˚──

Word Count: 2.3k

Synopsis: After years of competing for the title of Star Senior at Piltover Springs Dance School, the hatred that Violet Lanes and Y/n Y/l/n have garnered for each other is rendered a waste when in a turn of events, they are both awarded the distinction. When this forces them to confront what feelings they have for each other outside of unbridled loathing, they find that the line between hatred and lust is much finer than they thought...

Continuation of this headcanon (can be read alone, though; you'll just miss out on some context)

Content/Warnings: nsfw, smut!, top! vi, bottom! reader, low-key softdom! vi, lowkey subby! reader, reader has female anatomy, reader referred to with feminine terms/pet names (princess, good girl, etc.), pussy eating (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), semi-public sex, mirror sexxxx, lots of consent checks bc vi you are so sweetie, can't not think of Wicked when i hear the phrase "unadulterated loathing" so i am sorry if you are in the same boat

A/N: okay guys... here it is teehee. thank you SO much for all of the love on my dancer! vi x dancer! r headcanon; I honestly did not expect it! i really really enjoyed writing for this little plotline and I'm glad you guys enjoyed it, too; and i hope this scene brings it justice... enjoy! mwah ha ha

Love, Bee ୨ৎ

You’re not quite sure how seven years of pure, unadulterated loathing between you and Violet Lanes had led to this; Vi, with a knee slotted in between your legs, hands splayed across your torso as she kissed you, and you, pinned between her body and the ballet bar behind you, whimpering into her mouth as you rode her thigh… 

The two of you were staying late at the dance studio to see if you could finally manage to perfect the lift in your duet that had been kicking your ass, and somewhere along the way, you’d found out just how fine the line between hatred and lust could be. 

What possessed you to step- no, leap- over said line, you didn’t know, but you resigned to mulling over that later, when your sworn enemy wasn’t pulling at the hair on the nape of your neck.

Her tongue traces the line of your throat before she latches on; it isn’t long before she gets carried away and you let out a hiss at the pinch of her teeth on your pulse. 

Her movements come to a halt. “Shit,” she’d exhale, “Sorry, didn’t mean to-”

“Keep going.” 

She raises a brow, rearing her head back to look at you.“Yeah? I'm gonna leave a mark if I do.”

“I don’t care what you do, just want you to keep going.”

Who is she to deny such a sweet request?

She resumes her attack on the sensitive skin until the mark on your neck is to her liking. She pulls back to assess her handiwork, and you can’t help but chuckle at her concentration through your haze. 

“Seriously? I think you're good, Vi.”

“Just makin’ sure,” she’d say with a lop-sided grin. 

You shoot her a grin of your own. “Don’t worry; I know you don’t like to share.”

“No,” she begins before leaning in, her smile barely brushing your own, “I don’t.”

Your lips would meet again, tongues moving slow and languid against each other as she rocks into you just the same. The contact- however delicious- isn’t quite enough, and it’s starting to drive you crazy. Your breath is getting heavier, your whines more shameless, and you’ve started meeting each rock of her leg with the rock of your hips. You’re chasing more- you need more- and Vi can tell. 

She’s not going to make it easy for you, of course. 

She plants the heel of her foot back on the ground, separating her knee from the heat between your thighs.

“Wh-what?” You plead breathlessly, “Why’d you stop?”

“You sure you can handle this, sweetheart? You’re falling apart and I’m not even inside you yet.”

Your eyes shoot up to meet hers, wild and desperate. 

“What,” she’d ask, cocking her head to the side, “Is that what you want? You want me inside?” 

You nod frantically. “Yes, yes, please, that’s what I want.” 

You swear you can see her pupils blow out. You were begging for her. You’d been icing her out for the past seven years, and now, here you were, begging for her.

If this was a dream… then she was sure she’d wake up soon, and she wanted to taste you first.

“Can you hold out for just a little longer?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “I mean, yeah… why?”

And then, Violet Lanes is on her knees in front of you.

“Oh. That's why.” Your smile is bashful as you look down at her, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Can I?” She peers up at you, hands toying with the waistband of your sweatpants.

“Fuck yes, you can.”

A satisfied smirk spreads across her face, and she tugs the sweatpants down to your ankles, leaving you to step out of the rest of the pooled material.

“Alright, baby; toss your leg up,” she commands, guiding your leg over her shoulder with a hand behind your thigh. Your hands grip the ballet bar behind you, and you hope to God you’ll be able to hold yourself up through the feeling of her mouth on you.

“You good? Holding on tight?”

“Yeah, yeah; I’m good.” 

She nods from below you with a smile, and her hand comes trailing up the calf swung over her shoulder to the plush of your thigh seated next to her head. She’s got an arm wrapped around your other leg, securing you in place.

Your breath begins to stutter as she places open-mouthed kisses on the inside of your thigh, your body twitching and tensing in anticipation each time she grows closer to where you need her.

“Relax,” she purrs, thumb rubbing circles into the meaty flesh beside her.

You nod, closing your eyes and leaning your head back with a sigh; and when she finally places a kiss on the patch of wetness soaking through your underwear, you fucking melt.

“Good girl,” she draws out, feeling your weight press into her fully. “You still good with this?”

“Violet, I’m gonna lose my mind if your mouth isn’t on me in-”

You yelp as she pulls your underwear to the side to lick a stripe up from the nectar pooling at your entrance to the hardened pearl above it. 

“Not sure you’re in any position to make demands here, sugar plum.”

Your eyes roll back into your head when she attaches her lips to your clit, and when she sucks, your hand shoots down to grab at the hair on her crown. 

She moans into you- noted- and her tongue darts back down to lap at your wetness, trailing up, then down, then up, then down, collecting as much as she can on the tip of her warm tongue. 

“Fuck, princess; you taste so fucking good.”

She barely lets herself finish her sentence- words muffled in your pussy- before she’s back on your clit, swirling her tongue in circles around the swollen bud. 

The grip you have on her hair is tighter now, your thighs trembling, your features knit together in pleasure; you look down to find Vi so lost in between your legs that you don’t even think she notices how close you are.

You loosen your grip on her hair to tap rapidly on her shoulder. “V-Vi, baby,” 

As pussy drunk as she is, her head still snaps up at the sound of the pet name on your tongue. Her lips are swollen and glossy with your slick, her cheeks flushed red as the hair on her head. 

“What’s up, princess?” 

“J-just… gonna cum soon,” you pant, “want you inside first…”

“Yeah?” she smirks, gently guiding your leg off of her shoulder. She stands up, hand gripping your waist as she leans to press a sloppy kiss on your lips; and fuck, you can taste yourself on her mouth. 

“Wanna cum on my fingers?” She asks in between kisses; and you nod against her mouth, hand on the back of her head pulling her impossibly close.

She chuckles into your mouth before pulling away to drink in your features; your pleading eyes, your soft lips, the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

“You’re beautiful.” 

There was that look: so soft. So soft that you could hardly stand it, your head lowering in order to escape it. 

“Oh? You’re shy now?” 

You giggle- and she wonders if that sound had always been so sweet- before pushing at her chest.

“Shut up. I'm not shy.”

“Oh, yeah?” The raise of her brow and the cockiness of her voice says she’s got something planned. 

“Turn around for me, then.”

“I-I… what? I’m-”

“Turn. Around.”

Her grip on your waist tightens, and she’s twisting your hips until suddenly, you’re face-to-face with your own reflection.

“There’s my pretty girl,” she lulls, head dropping down to plant a kiss on your shoulder. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Y-yeah… yeah,” you breathe out. You’re watching yourself come undone for her.

“Look at me.”

You’re a little embarrassed at how quickly you obey.

“You look away, and I stop, yeah?”

You whine. “Vi, really? Just-”

For a moment, the intensity of her gaze disappears, as if she’s dropped whatever persona she’d been assuming; as if she was making herself smaller for you

“If you don’t like this, just let me know. Don’t want you uncomfortable or all in your head, yeah?” 

You quirk a smile at her consideration. “No… I like it. I trust you.”

She smirks at you. “Just being a brat, then?” 

Your eye roll answers that question.

“Just being a brat. Got it. Eyes on me then, baby.”

And then, she’s pulling your- now soaked- underwear down to your thighs, reaching down to glide her middle and ring fingers through your slick, and your eyes flutter shut, and you’ve already broken the one rule she gave you.

“Y/n,” she scolds, her fingers halting. 

Your eyes fly open to find her again, and you’re muttering out a desperate apology, rocking back on her fingers, seeking any sensation you can get. 

Her free arm comes around to circle your waist, holding you in place so that you can’t chase your release on your own. “I gave you one rule, sweetheart. Keep those pretty eyes on me and I promise I’ll make you cum.”

You nod frantically, eyes never leaving her own, even as she brings her fingers up to rub your own wetness into your clit; even as those fingers sink into you from behind, three knuckles deep.

“Jesus fuck,” she curses, “fuckin’ swallowing me.”

Your thighs are already shaking, your walls fluttering around her fingers as they adjust to the new fullness.

“Gonna move now, okay?” she warns before pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“Yes,” you nod, “yes- fuck!”

You call out as her hand flips over, fingers rotating inside you to press into the ridges of nerves on your front wall.

“That didn’t take long to find…” she muses.

“Fuck you,” you scoff to the best of your ability- although it doesn’t really pack a punch when you look so blissed out- and Vi laughs at you.

She fucking laughs, and you remember for a moment what makes her so damn annoying; but then, she’s pistoning into you, and your mind goes blank.

You feel high off of her fingers, limbs tingling and head fuzzy, completely out of control of whatever sounds are coming out of your mouth. You can vaguely hear “fuck, yes,” and “shit, shit, shit,” and “please, Vi, please” in your own voice. You can vaguely hear the obscene sounds of her fingers moving in and out of your slick, which is, no doubt, dripping down your thighs by now. You can vaguely make out her focused expression through the stars you’re seeing.

When she brings her mouth to the shell of your ear to speak to you, though, it’s her voice that brings you back down to earth. “You with me, sweet girl? Focused on me?”

If you focus any harder on her fingers slipping in and out of you, or on the way her breath picks up in your ear, or on the furrow of her own brow, you’ll cum.

Wait… shit, you're about to cum.

“Vi,” you call out, eyes widening, “I’m gonna- I’m so close- fuck, please.”

In a second, the arm around your waist is unraveling, and she reaches down to rub tight circles onto your clit, coaxing you closer to the edge.

You can’t fucking help it; your eyes roll back, head falling back onto her shoulder, breaking the one rule she gave you.

“Sorry, sorry, ‘m sorry, I can’t-” 

You’re near tears as her hands continue their ministrations. “ ‘S alright baby,” she coos, “You’re doing so fucking good, just want you to cum for me.”

And with a guttural noise you’ve never heard yourself make, you’re doing just that; spasming on her fingers, legs shaking underneath you, knuckles white as they grip the ballet bar you’re practically doubled over. 

Vi works you through your orgasm until your hand is shooting down in between your legs, shooing her own away. “Shit, that’s enough… ‘m all done.”

She’s careful pulling out, taking the two digits into her own mouth before pulling your underwear back up in place. Her hands return to your hips, turning your body back towards her. You still haven’t opened your eyes; still trying to catch your breath.

“Hey,” she speaks softly, pulling you in, “You okay?”

When you open your eyes, she’s smiling down at you like she adores you. It’s so tender, so gentle; so much so that in the come down off the high you’d just experienced, you start to tear up.

“I’m sorry,” you begin with a sniffle, “for being such an asshole all this time.”

“Woah, woah, woah- first of all, so was I; but more importantly, you’re fucked out right now. Just worry about catching your breath for a few minutes, okay love?”

You give her a weak chuckle as she pulls away to gather your previously discarded bottoms. She leans down in front of you, guiding your legs as she directs you to put “one foot in… okay, now the other,” before pulling them up to their place on your hips.

You thank her with a smile, and she waves you off in response.

“Do you, uh…” she’s nervously rubbing the back of her neck as if she weren’t just demanding that you keep your eyes on her while she plowed you, “do you think you’d wanna come back to my place? Powder’s over at Ekko’s and my Dad has game nights with his friends every Wednesday, so it’ll just be us. We can just chill, watch a movie or something, order food if you want. Just… don’t wanna ditch you or anything, wanna make sure you’re all good after-”

“That sounds perfect, Violet.” 

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

You’re not quite sure how seven years of pure, unadulterated loathing between you and Violet Lanes had led to this; a sleepover at her house, watching shitty action movies together, splitting a pizza, and falling asleep on the couch with your limbs tangled together.

But here you were. And it really was perfect; and everyone knows that you don’t settle for less than perfect.

End ୨ৎ

Taglist: @spidercat-soccerfan, @lipglosskxsses, @baylegend6