#💁‍♀️

[eliotbaum]

☑️ ezmeralda d'avenir joins the party

(our fated ally)

[lesbianshadowheart]

the crucial difference between the poor meow-meowness of Astarion and Shadowheart is that while being attracted to Astarion clouds your judgement and makes you unable to interpret his character accurately, the only way to fully get Shadowheart is to be in love with her. To the untrained eye this might sound like a ‘double standard’ but the academic name for this is actully The Lesbo’s Burden

[aris-ink]

sub yn *innocently* dry humps her step brother jk while he plays video games

dhfshsfdhh

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: forbidden romance, step!siblings au

warnings: slight allusions to violence (not towards the reader), pseudo incest, mentions of corruption + masturbation & somnophilia, possessiveness, dry humping, some soft dirty talk + praise

Jungkook craned his neck, his eyes stuck on the screen in front of him. It wouldn't be fair to say that losing the game was entirely your fault; but that was how he saw it anyway. How was he supposed to focus with you sitting on his lap?

It didn't even cross his mind that perhaps you shouldn't have been sitting there in the first place. Jungkook has always been too weak to resist temptation, and even weaker when it came to denying you anything you wanted.

He might have been younger than you, but what he lacked in experience he made up for with cleverness. He taught you that you could always rely on him, crawl into his bed after a nightmare and cuddle up to him after a bad day. As long as no one was around to see.

"The hell?" Namjoon grumbled into the mic. "What is wrong with you today?"

Yoongi chuckled. "Think you should sit the next round out, Kook."

Jungkook clenched his jaw, his hand settling down on your hip.

"Stop moving," he muttered into your ear.

You tightened your arms around his neck.

"I'm just trying to get comfortable," you whispered.

Comfortable. Jungkook didn't know what that word meant at the moment, because he was so hard he could barely sit still himself. He released a deep breath and fixed his mic, his cheeks getting warmer as you snuggled into him.

"Sorry, I got distracted."

"Uh-huh," Namjoon scoffed. "Who you with?"

Jungkook could practically hear him grin. The little devil on his shoulder whispered into his ear, urged him to wipe the amusement right off of his friend's face and answer as honestly as possible.

My sister.

The thought alone made his heart pound faster. He knew his friends thought you were pretty; obviously, they had eyes. But he doubted that speaking his mind would have been a great idea, no matter how much he wanted to claim you as his.

Before he could say anything, Yoongi sighed.

"As if, Joon. Come on, let's get started already. Kook, no offense but I really think you should sit this one out-"

Jungkook didn't get to hear the rest of the sentence, because you shifted in his lap again, and this time you brushed up right against the bulge in his sweats. His fingers softened around the controller in surprise. He could feel his cock throb as you gasped, lifting your head to look up at him.

"O-oh," you stuttered out, a crease between your brows, like you didn't understand what just happened.

"No, seriously, I told you he's with someone, dude," Namjoon started, but Jungkook was already exiting the game and taking off his mic.

You looked like you had no idea what effect you had on him. Like you couldn't see how starved he was for your love. For some reason, the innocence you exhuded made his cock twitch.

Instead of giving out to you, he simply moved his eyes back to the screen and mindlessly searched for a game he could play on his own as a distraction. A distraction for you, of course.

He cleared his throat and remained still, as if he didn't want to bend you over his desk and fuck you senseless. As if he hasn't wanted to do that for years. He could feel you begin to relax in his arms again, and he prayed to whatever deity existed out there that he would have the patience to get through this.

A sigh escaped you as you tried to move your hips once more. You did so discreetly, as though you didn't want him to notice, chasing the butterflies; just like you did when you were younger. But now there was no nets and clear, blue skies. Only the darkness of Jungkook's room and your own mind, combined with the fluttering in your stomach.

He has waited so long, blurring the lines so slowly... So, technically, he should have been able to wait a little longer. And he could, but he had to do something. He needed something; anything.

He placed his hand on your hip again, gently guiding you to sit right on top of his clothed cock. He didn't dare take his eyes off his game, but all he was focused on was the feeling of your warmth and not making a sound. You were like a little animal finally entering the hunter's trap; one wrong move and all could go to hell.

"Feel comfortable yet?" He whispered. "Feel good?"

You nodded into his neck, your breathing growing heavier against him. He wondered if you were getting wet. You must have been, right? He wondered what you'd do if he kissed you until your lips were swollen. All his muscles tensed up as he continued waiting, holding back the urge to thrust up against you.

And the patience paid off. Carefully, testing the waters, he could feel you drag your cunt back along the curve of his cock. His head hit the back of the couch, the controller slipping out of his grip. With the same, cautious roll forward you almost whimpered into his neck, making his heart skip a beat.

He groaned quietly, sliding his hand down onto your ass. Even though the move itself was bold, his touch was gentle, his eyes falling shut.

"Feels good," he breathed. "Don't stop."

You let out the tiniest moan into his skin, and it was the hottest sound Jungkook's ever heard. As much as he always wanted you to be each other firsts, he knew that wasn't possible if he didn't want to scare you off. He had to settle for whatever he could get his hands on; countless pairs of your underwear went missing throughout the years, but you never noticed, because Jungkook always made sure to get you plenty of new, nice things. When that wasn't enough anymore, he learned to stay quiet as he grinded against you while you slept, a pair of your panties wrapped around his cock to catch his hot seed when he came. You didn't seem to notice when the boys you liked started avoiding you either - or when they mysteriously disappeared.

And now here you were, fulfilling every wet dream he's ever had and humping him to your heart's content. You followed his commands and rubbed your little clit against him like he was your personal toy. Everything about it had him ready to blow his load right into his pants.

He squeezed your ass, arching his back when your hips sped up, his mouth falling open. He groaned again.

"Go harder."

He lifted his head up, his cheeks dusted with a blush, eyes hooded as he brushed his nose against yours. You did as he asked, grinding yourself against his cock in firmer circles, a muffled whine slipping past your teeth as they bit into your lower lip.

"God," he sighed, "you're so fucking hot. You like that?"

"Mhm," you moaned, "but-"

"Shh. It'll be our little secret, yeah? No one has to know."

You nodded, nuzzling your face into his neck, but Jungkook was having none of that. He was getting so fucking close, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to see your eyes starting right back at him for the first time when he came for you.

"Look at me. I want those pretty eyes on me."

You shivered, your hips rutting against his quicker, and Jungkook groaned lowly.

"My good girl. Are you wet for me?"

"Y-yeah," you stuttered.

His dick twitched, his stomach twisting and turning with pleasure.

"Yeah?" He cooed. "You gonna make a mess for me?"

"Jungkook-"

"Fuck," another groan, more strained than the others. "I'm gonna come. Want me to come?"

Your hips stuttered in their rhythm. Jungkook could swear he could feel a wet spot growing on his sweats, and combined with the desperate, fucked out look on your face it was more than enough to make his balls clench harder than ever before in his life. His fingers dug into your ass, back arching as he released rope after rope of cum right into his briefs beneath your cunt. His breathy moans mingled with yours, quickly overshadowed by the filth and confessions spilling out of his mouth. You've heard both before, but never while you were coming on top of him, your clit pulsing against him.

"Fuck, fuck, love you- ah, I love you, I love you-"

You swallowed, stilling in his arms, the weight of your actions settling heavy over your shoulders.

Jungkook, on the other hand, felt completely free and weightless at last. He buried his face in the crook of your neck with a sigh.

"So good," he mumbled incoherently. "So good. Waited so- so long. Love you so much."

And even though it was hard to find the words, you couldn't lie. Not to yourself and certainly not to him.

"Love you too," you whispered tiredly.

It wasn't that simple. And unlike Jungkook, you didn't think you'd be able to face yourself in the mirror the moment you were out of his arms. But that was okay; no matter how difficult this was for you to accept, Jungkook has mastered the art of waiting. He didn't mind waiting a bit longer. The only difference was that now, whether you realized it or not, he had you right where he wanted you.

"Kook," you murmured. "Need to wash up."

He smiled, rubbing his nose along your collarbone.

"So do I. Now what do we do about that?"

[becausethathappens]

[cptrs]

[lipglossanon]

genuinely need you to fucking kill yourself

Oh hi chicken shit anon!

Nice to see you’re too scared to say it with your whole chest; wouldn’t want your profile out there connected to literal death threats, right?

Next time it’s an automatic block, but I’m using this moment to enlighten your smooth brain idiocy as well as for any others: get a life!

Or how about taking your own advice?? I sure as hell won’t miss you 😘

Thanks for visiting the blog, you chode licking troglodyte!

[wizarddank]

So listen...

[shy-peacock]

Posting spice for the holiday rayamaari thing either tonight or tomorrow

[imanedwardianbitch]

in a weird high school fanfic situation rn 😭 totally-definitely-not cuddling while sharing a bed with my best friend. Spending 5 days together. Planning on college together so we wont have to be apart. Holding hands and standing-and-spooning and cheek/forehead kissing at the boy genuis concert. going for crepes and sharing smothies. she made me a cassette tape with handwritten notes detailing why she picked each song. pintrest boards for each other. Her wearing the patchwork crochet cardigan i made her. Calling each other babe and baby and darling. I love yous. Were both queer. What the fuck is going on here i may be autistic but i am also Confused!

praying she doesn't see this sorry babe 🙏

[msginnymalfoy]

Tʏʟᴇʀ ᴘᴏSᴇʏ ꨄ︎

ᴀᴛ "ʙᴀɴᴅɪᴛ" ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴍɪᴇʀᴇ.

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

I straightened my hair 🙂 I can’t believe I used to do that every other day… burned myself like three times

[dreadfutures]

apropos of nothing here's something I wrote for an original fiction project aka first original IP thing I've written in. years.

"Tane," she says, and his hands fall still on his sword.

In the polished steel, she looks down at him with brown eyes so warm they would surely catch fire at the slightest prompting. There is a brittleness there, too; he can feel how she has hollowed herself, carved up her insides to muster the emotion with which she spoke his name.

His name. A most precious secret, and, he now knows, a potentially deadly one. She could bind him with that name or command him to demonstrate his godhood on her enemies.

Enemies she does not have.

He does not worry that she will use his name for such profane acts, nor does he worry much that through her his name will fall into the wrong hands. Even now, he does not doubt that he was right to tell her his truest name, though she has no way of knowing the weight it carries.

To her, Tane is her assigned protector, a fixture of her life furnished by the Temple just as much as the table she studies at or the bed she sleeps in. Tane is an unknowable, alien presence in her mind; he can feel the shape of himself in her thoughts and in her heart, and it is like a gift to him--this precious knowledge she has, that no other god or creature ever before possessed.

The god disguised as a boy turns his face up to the Kindled Girl as the flower does to the sun. He does not smile, but he blinks slowly, basking in her attention. Whatever has preoccupied her so much to bring her out of bed at this hour is serious, but nevertheless it has brought her to him, and he is more pleased than he wanted to admit to have her by his side.

"What stirs you, Ember?" he asks.

She looks away briefly, her nose scrunching with annoyance, then looks back at him with a blush rising to her fair cheeks. "I cannot stop thinking of those stories," she says. "Of what happens to all the maidens like me."

His interest mounts. "The stories from other lands?"

She nods and fists her hands in her nightgown. Her lip is clutched a moment between her teeth, and that moment lasts longer in his memory than it should. He settles his eyes responsibility on hers instead.

"I know they are allegories, but. I need to know," she says hesitantly. "Why...that? How many layers of allegory are there to their fates, before it is simply a fact of the world that we--that they--are simply devices to be used and acted upon?"

"Do you feel so disenfranchised?" he asks. He is curious to know if it is empathy for the girls in his stories that has moved her, or if she has awakened to the prison walls around her at last. The Greeks, the Romans, and countles others held their women in two opposing hands: the sacred, the sullied--all sacrificed, just as she would be one day. He told her the stories because they were entertaining, and she had asked for stories of adventure in the world outside. But he had also told her the stories because she was in so many of them.

She is still chewing her lip. It is chapped, snd soon it will bleed if she does not relent.

"How could I be?" she shrugs, snd suddenly turns her face away. "No cruel god will come to ravish me out of some jealousy for my lover's heroism and glory. And I know that any would-be conquerer would hardly make it past your blade long enough to lay eyes upon me, let alone touch me. I will never have a lover, and I will be the one to deliver myself to the pyre...as you know."

Her voice has quickened, a tinge of sarcasm bleeding in as she tried to mask her embarrassment, and Tane wonders for a moment if the security he has given her by being her Protector has actually strengtheners the walls of her cage rather than poke holes in it.

But then she glances at him, and there is s strange kind of panic in her eye.

"What I mean to ask... What happens to them... The act itself. The way they are claimed...? It is something many people do, and the need has driven men to madness and women to desiring despair, but..." She is wringing her dress now in both hands, wrinkling it irreparably; her cheeks are so red he could nearly feel their heat. "Is it always a violent conquest? A domination and an acquiescence?" She seems to grow more troubled with each spoken word, and she grimaces, bracing herself for her final question. "Does the world think claiming a woman brings them power, and status, and...? Is that all my life would be good for, if it were not my fate to burn?"

To burn, to bring power and status to a greedy soul? Tane thought wryly. But he also thought, with a sudden blinding warmth: Your life will be good for much more than that, when it is directed by your own hand. It is a promise burning in me, and one day it shall warm you.

Instead, Tane says, gently: "Oh, Ember."

He lays his sword aside and stands, and it saddens him some how she deflates in his presence.

"To some, to a not insignificant number of men, the answer is yes," he says, still gentle in voice and mein. "But 'tis not always so. The act itself can bring true pleasure between kind partners, giving to one another as united equals. Love is as real a force in the world outside as it is here."

Her lips part, breathless as his words envelop her. When she looks up at him, there is both fear and awe in her gaze.

"Is... is there love here?" she asks hoarsely, a voice barely above a whisper.

The question grieves him more than he expected it to, but he immediately knows the answer. God he may be, but to a god, knowing the depths of his unfathomable self is a trivial thing. The very moment he considers it, he knows the truth.

He loves her. More than any mortal could comprehend.

Tane raises a hand to her face, tucking a strand of hair that had come loose in her restless slumber behind her ear. Then he allows himself to cup her round cheek fully in his palm, and he marvels at the softness of her skin as he brushes his thumb near the corner of her mouth.

She hardly seems to breathe as she stares up at him. The fear has grown in her face with every moment that she waits for his answer.

But he has a question of his own, now. He had not cared to ask it before this moment, for he had not realized that the strength of his affection was not merely due to proximity and familiarity. Now, however, he is interested. Has the precocious crush of her childhood grown beyond the yearnings of adolescence?

"Do you love me, Ember?" he asks.

How can she know if she loves him?

"I don't know what love is, I think," she whispers as unshed tears burn in her eyes. "Tane... I... If you were... Would you show me?"

He considers her wide-eyed countenance a moment, how she trembles beneath his touch

Perhaps he had been showing her all along. But of course, she did not know what she was truly asking.

Tane bends, a flame pushed by unseen winds, and rests his forehead against hers for a moment. She is scalding hot, from her skin to her breath against his face, and he is hopelessly drawn to be closer and closer to her.

"I would like to, if that is your wish," he murmurs, and before she can voice her reply, he closes the last distance between their lips in a kiss.

She does not know how to respond at first, though she grips his wrist and his shirt tightly to make sure he doesn't pull away. He has all the time in the universe to wait, and he hardly needs to breathe, and the taste of her lips is sustenance enough that an eternity sipping at them would be quite acceptable. Sip he does, lips parted just enough to invite her closer, to taste, not simply to feel.

His eyes are closed, but his other senses have ignited.

The moment he touches his lips to hers, he feels every inch a god, but not in the haughty way he has so often carried himself. No, this kiss has nothing to do with power or superiority or even experience. It is about domain, responsibility, kinship--an indelible bond between devotee and their focus, mirrored across a veil of Belief.

He believes in her, and he knows he will die if she does not believe in him. In love, in freedom, in choice, in pleasure.

[tokyopandaclub]

2023 is the year of appreciation

[just-somehuman]

I FOUND THE DARK MODE YIPPEE

[becausethathappens]

😈 hoodie gremlin vibes 😈 for @theredquilt's birthday! 💜

[cptrs]