#HOWEVER i love the silly pictures and cover that comes with it

[finchers-ipad]

MY 1999 ‘SIGHT AND SOUND’ MAGAZINE ARRIVED!!

[joszns]

miss you ✭

college!ellie x reader

content: sexting, nudes, first sexting experience, vibrator usage (reader), masturbation, pet names (baby, good girl, babe)

summary: ellie misses you a little too much on a late night and decides to text you…

part 2!!!

ellie bit her lip, laying on her bed. a still-lit joint rested in the ash tray next to her, the drug affecting her greatly as she tried to ignore the growing arousal between her legs. she rolled to her side, grabbing her phone and checking the time.

11:30…

reluctantly, she unlocks her phone and hovers her fingertip over your contact. whatever. it’s not weird of her to text her own girlfriend, regardless of the time.

e: hey, u still awake?

she looks at the message, before leaving her phone on the bed and deciding to finish off the joint.

a ping quickly steals her attention, however.

y/n: i am, why? miss u.

she quickly takes one last hit, bursting out into a coughing fit. ellie grabs her phone, typing a reply.

e: nothing, i just miss u babe. what are you doing?

ellie gets back into bed, eyes glued to her phone.

y/n: thinking ab you, silly

she blushes slightly.

e: aw, what about me??

ellie watches you type, then disappear. ugh, was that cringe?? she rolls onto her back, nervously chewing her nail.

y/n: im thinking about ur kisses…

she feels her heart skip a beat. her thighs reflexively clench against eachother, barely relieving the desperate need for touch between them.

e: my kisses? what about them?

ellie pulls the covers over her, feeling a little exposed in her dimly lit room.

y/n: i miss them. i need them

her breath catches slightly, typing a response quickly.

e: yeah? need them where?

she bites her lip nervously, scared at your response.

y/n: want me to show you?

no fucking way.

ellie blushes furiously, her heart beating rocket speed as she stares at your message.

e: show me baby

she hopes her response comes off as cool and collected. you can’t tell tone in text after all, right?

a minute passes, and she starts to get anxious. what if that was too far?

[Y/N ❤️✂️ sent you a snap!]

ellies eyes go wide. nevermind to that. she opens the notification, getting more and more turned on.

the image was absolutely breathtaking.

you were lying on your back, shirt off, neck exposed. your skin was highlighted perfectly by your bedside lamp, jawline in the corner of the image. she could see you were biting your lip, your fingers lightly placed just above ur collarbone.

right here pls?

the text on the image read. ellie took in a deep breath, her free hand slipping beneath the covers and teasing the hem of her shirt.

e: i wish i could my love

id kiss more than just ur neck

she waits for your response, still looking at the photograph. ellie could picture it, feel you whimpering softly as she marked your neck.

y/n: how about….

[Y/N❤️✂️ sent you a snap!]

ellie quickly opened the picture, dipping her fingers below the waistband of her boxers. she was extremely turned on by you, her thighs clenching again at the picture.

you had angled the camera lower, showing your bare chest as your hands covered your nipples, the text reading:

…here? ;P

fuck, ellie thought, starting to rub her clit over her boxers. she stared at the image for a moment, taking in your beautiful tits and trying her best to remember what was behind those fingers of yours. she remembered how your boobs felt up in her face, growing more aroused at the thought.

e: fuck baby you’re so hot

i miss u

i love ur boobs

she shoved her hand beneath the fabric of her boxers, desperately needing more friction.

y/n: they love u too baby

what are you thinking about?

oh god. she can’t answer that honestly. what do I say…she thought, pausing her movements. herr heart pounded in her chest, she was so close to finishing.

e: everything about u. ur so perfect. i miss the way u taste sm

y/n: yeah, you miss my pussy? ur so cute lol

ellie blushed furiously at your message, tossing her phone to the side momentarily before quickly rolling back over to grab it once again.

e: shut up.

she bit her lip, returning to the photos you had sent. she began touching herself again, thinking about your hand in place of her own.

e: what r u doing rn..?

ellie’s finger hovered over the send button nervously.

y/n: typing witg one hand

she rolled her eyes back, imagining you touching yourself, thinking about her. ellie did the same, getting off to those dirty thoughts.

e: proof?

she pressed send, half joking but half wanting to see. im such a perv…

[Y/N❤️✂️sent you a snap!]

ellie blushed, quickly opening the snapchat notification.

this time, it was a video.

it showed your hand, working away at yourself underneath your underwear. you were moaning softly, letting ellies name slip towards the end.

jesus. she let out a whimper. the video looped, and with each replay she got wetter and wetter.

e: goddamn. i need u so bad y/n

need to be all up in your pretty pussy

ellie opened snapchat, recording a video of her getting off as well. she pictured you, your perfect moans in her ear as she fingered you relentlessly.

“fuck….” she groaned.

anxiously, she sent the video, however she was too lost in her own arousal to put much worry or thought into it.

y/n: omfg ellie

i want u to fuck me so bad, your moans make me go insane baby im so wet

ellie let out a moan, rubbing her clit much more intensely now.

e: r u using that vibrator i know u have?

she could picture you, hair messy and tangled as your back arches, whimpering as the vibrator massaged your clit perfectly.

y/n: howd you know?

[New audio message from Y/N❤️✂️]

ellie excitedly played it, nearly orgasming on the spot as she heard your delicious moans.

you were whimpering her name, the faint hum of your vibrator barely heard over your cries of pleasure.

she felt herself get close, playing the audio over and over again until she was on the brink of cumming.

e: gonna cum….fuck your moans are so hot…i wish i was the one causing them

y/n: i wanna see u cum to the thought of me baby

ellies breath sped up as she began to record her touches, rubbing away at her clit and occasionally dipping her fingers inside for more slick.

“oh fuck…y/n…” she moaned, picturing your perfect tits bouncing in her face as you rode her strap. her hips bucked into her hand as she came, whimpering your name over and over again as well as several curses. she sent the video, replaying the audio you had sent as she rode herself through the orgasm.

geez…i haven’t cum that hard in a while…ellie thought, feeling her clit pulse and twitch beneath her fingers as she regained her breath.

[Y/N❤️✂️ sent you a snap!]

ellie quickly opened the video, still touching herself.

this time, you were the one cumming all over your fingers. it was truly a show, your tits bouncing as you moaned her name, the dual vibrator massaging your clit and filling you up simultaneously. you turned the camera and rested it slightly above your collarbones, giving ellie a full view of your tits and thrusting. you whimpered as you turned up the speed, cumming hard on the silicone toy and moaning ellies name into the mic repeatedly.

she almost came again, her arousal quickly growing at the sight of you.

e: hooly fuuckkk baby. i wish i could be with u in person rn. i wanna put my face all in your perfect pussy.

y/n: come over ?? lol

still horny :(( i miss you pretty girl

that was enough for her to decide.

she got up, reading the time as 12:10. whatever, anything for you.

e: on my way baby

im gonna fuck you so good

ur not gonna be able to walk tmr

y/n: can’t wait <3

a/n :3 this is my first ever fic…if u have any suggestions or constructive critics let me know lol i hope u enjoyed!!!

edit: THANK U SM FOR ALL THE LOVE😭😭❤️working hard on another one!!!

[astayinwonderland]

"Your surprise is here..." | minchan

pairing: bang chan x f.reader x lee know

genre: smut || a little plot || +18 MDNI

summary: chan is very observant and he just knows you have a thing for minho... [enjoy! (;]

word count: 1.7k

warnings: threesome (ish?), voyeurism, exhibitionism, pet names, fingering, oral (f-receiving and m-receiving), slight mention of degradation, praise kink...

also english is not my first language

You are in love with Christopher Bang. It was always hard to picture yourself with someone and not be scared of them leaving you in the future. But with him, it was different. Chan is a man who values honesty and communication. Since day one, somehow he has extended to you warmth and trust making it impossible not to like him. Now, loving him, that was something else. What didn’t you love about your boyfriend? Is he flawed? Yes, of course, so are you. But it is in his flaws and in his caring nature that you get to be unapologetically you, no secrets, no burdens. 

One of the things you have learned about Chan in the time you’ve been together is how observant he is. You have little tells when you’re excited, sad, joyful, horny, extremely horny, and he loves being able to tell so diligently. Even when sometimes you are not aware of how your body reacts. 

Chan had his suspicions, but just by looking at you, he confirms it. You have a silly little crush on his friend and bandmate Minho. It’s not just the way you giggle a little bit too much when he makes a joke, it is the way your hand touches his arm for a brief second, the way you seem to arch your back a little bit for him to casually look at your breasts for a second or two, the way you smile at him with that flirty spark in your eyes.  Yeah, you wanted Minho, and Chan was not jealous because at the end of the day, he wants what you want and to please you was his religion. 

So one night Chan makes all the pieces fall into place, he is a man with a plan. 

Spending the night with Chan is the definition of lovely. You can barely keep your hands off each other. Cuddling, playing pranks on each other, cooking together, having him inside you… you name it. However, you didn’t know what your man was orchestrating behind your back. 

So now you find yourself kissing him, one of your favourite things to do. Chan has a way of kissing you that instantly melts you, it is never enough, you want his lips on yours forever. It starts slow, he wants to just see if you’re in the mood… so he waits and observes as you are both sitting on his couch. His sensual lips caress yours, asking for permission to kiss you. When you do, he pulls you closer, making you straddle his lap so he can put his hands on your waist. You part your lips for him and the faintest moan leaves you and the way Chan’s tongue teases your bottom lip makes your hips roll against his. 

“Hmmm, are we impatient, my love?” he whispers. 

“You know I am…” you reply breathlessly. “Now please kiss me, Chris, fuck me.”

Chan chuckles as you leave wet kisses down his jawline and neck. 

The doorbell rings. 

“Your surprise is here,” Chan looks into your eyes. They are wide with excitement, and dark with lust. 

Your boyfriend carefully lets go of you. Your pajama shorts are wet from your arousal and your bralette leaves little to the imagination. 

“There’s someone here for you, but if you don’t want to do this… we can stop,” Chan runs his hands over his blonde hair that slightly curls at the top. 

“What do you mean?” your heart races as he opens the door and Minho’s eyes look right into yours, and then to your nipples hardening under your bralette. 

“Minho?” you look at Chan. You try to find something to cover yourself with, he shouldn’t see you like this. 

Minho walks in, his eyes glued to your figure and you can’t help but feel like a piece of meat for these two men. An unspoken fantasy come true. 

“Baby, you have a little thing for Minho, am I right?” 

You panic. It was always something stupid and innocent, you love Chan. You blink and your eyes go to Chan, then to Minho, and back to Chan. 

“I–” you start but he shushs you. 

Shit. 

“I just want you to have fun, Minho here wonders if you are an obedient good girl. Would you like to show him, baby?” 

Minho still says nothing and Chan smirks in a way you feel your clit throbbing in need of attention. Chan nods to Minho and they walk together closer to your figure. Chan kisses the back of your hand and draws little circles with his thumb over your fingers, reassuring you it’s okay and in that moment you know this is the man you are in love with. He is selfless, he is exciting, he is lustful, he loves to watch. 

“Kiss her,” Chan tells Minho, but it is you who pulls Minho towards your lips. Your needy fingers entangling on his purple hair, drawing a deep groan for him. 

“That’s it, good girl. You wanted him so bad, didn’t you, baby? Well… now it’s time to follow what I say, yeah?” 

You try to nod as you bring Minho with you to the couch Chan sits opposite of you. 

“Baby, strip for us, would ya?” 

Only then do you stop kissing Minho, his eyes half-opened, lips swollen, ears red. You slowly unclasp your bralette and toss it on the floor. Minho’s mouth watering at the sight of beautiful tits, an arm’s distance from his wanting tongue, but when you pull down your pajama shorts… shit. Is he in heaven or in hell? 

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” 

And for the first time since he came into the apartment you hear Minho’s voice. 

“She’s exquisite, hyung,” Minho’s eyes never leaving your tits. 

Your eyes are glued on Chan, how he palms his very noticeable erection in an attempt to relieve himself a little bit. He winks at you, he is really enjoying himself. 

“Lick her tits, she will whimper if you blow on her nipples first and then suck them really hard.” 

You don’t have time to process the words coming from your boyfriend’s mouth when Minho’s mouth and hands are already on you. Just as Chan said, Minho first licks your tits, his flat tongue working wonders. Chan’s eyes encourage you to let out your majestic moans, the ones that drive him insane. 

“C’mon, my love, let Minho know how good he’s doing,” Chan says, but that’s when Minho blows on your right nipple and sucks hard, his crafty tongue switching between circling it and sucking while his fingers pinch and slightly pull your left one. 

“Ah! Fuck–mmhh, shit–” you whimper under Minho’s touch. 

You see Chan close his eyes in delight, finally freeing himself from his joggers. His perfect cock delighting your eyes, you want to suck him off, your adorable, perfect, boyfriend. 

Minho didn’t stop there, he had you arching your back for him, almost crying for him to give you more. His mouth moves to your neck, licking and kissing you until his fingers tease your fold. 

“Fuck, Minho, put your fingers in me already,” you beg. 

“No, baby, he has to taste you first. Your taste alone will make him, cum, believe me.” 

You moan at his words, so Minho puts his thumb in your mouth and you suck. You suck his thumb as the little needy slut you are because you want to suck Chan off so bad. Your brain can’t process the pleasure Minho is giving you and the sight of Chan jerking off to his friend going down on his girlfriend. 

Minho first rubs your clit with his nose and cries are leaving your mouth as your eyes shut in pleasure. 

“Make her cum. It’s the least you can do after she’s been so good to us, don’t you think?” The fact that Chan speaks as if you weren’t there makes your head spin and your pussy clenches, eager to cum for both of these men. 

So Minho gets to work. His tongue circles your clit as one finger slides into you, the squelching sound of your dripping hole making both men moan in unison. 

“Baby, how are you feeling, is Minho making you feel good?” 

“Yes… yes–f…uck, yes, Chris,” you moan. 

Chan smiles, he knows that when ‘Chris’ falls from your lips your brain is somewhere else. You are a goner. Head so plagued with pleasure your only aim is to climb higher and higher and get the mind-blowing release your body craves so much. This is Chan’s queue to finally stand beside you. He watches as Minho adds another finger in you, his motions quick, filled with lust as you pant and moan his name and Chris’s. 

“I need you in my mouth,” you beg, looking at Chan. “Please, Chris, please, fuck! Minho!” you can’t seem to finish one thought when another wave of unmeasurable pleasure washes over you. Minho flicked his tongue over your bundle of nerves his hand now fisting his erect cock that was trapped in his tight jeans. 

Chan obeys your command, he wants his baby happy and fucked out. So he thrusts inside your mouth as you moan for him. Hollowing your cheeks as you try your best to take him all in. Minho spits on your pussy and this is it, you are so close, his fingers moving so good in and out of you. Both men begin to talk you into cuming. 

“Baby, you are doing so good for–u-us… such a dirty, dirty little thing,” Chan pants, close to cuming as well. 

“Cum, please please cum, I want you all over my face,” Minho grunts and he is cuming on his hand. 

Chan pulls out and his hand work on his cock angling it to your tits as his eyes roll back, while he cums and cums all over you and fucking hell, you cum with him. You feel like you are ascending to a never-ending feeling of euphoria as you cum with a loud cry, making your head explode and see stars behind your eyelids. 

“Fuck…” is all you manage to say before your body lies limp on the couch. 

“Shit, baby, you are amazing,” Chan kisses you. 

You then reach for Minho’s adorable face which is buried between your legs and kiss him, tasting you in his mouth. 

“Next time, tell me exactly what you want, baby.” 

You nod. 

“Thank you,” Minho whispers and you run your hand through his hair. 

“Let’s clean her up,” and with that, the two men gather their strength to take you to the shower… but this was just round one of a steamy night that would not be easily forgotten.

___________________________________

a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨ -- this idea wouldn't let me sleep so I just poured everything I got into this and it took a toll on my soul... totally worth it though.

let me know if you would like to be a part of my taglist :3

[yikesmary]

Is it alright to request a scenario with Wonu? Like imagine him having a cat before the two of you are together then one day you stayed at his house/apartment then you sit somewhere on the couch or floor making yourself comfortable then you felt a small weight from your side or lower back and saw his cat sitting or sleeping comfortably next to you.

I have a kitten and then he has been acting up like that since he stayed in my room 🥹

CAT DAD — jeon wonwoo x reader

summary: whenever you go to your boyfriend, wonwoo's, house, his cat mimi. and he's totally not jealous because of this.

notes: ahhh i love this request so much!!! i added the last part where wonwoo's jealous because i think it'd be cute for him to be jealous. this was kind of short by my standards, however i hope i did this request justice!

join my taglist!

"I'm starting to think there's another reason you come to my house other than to see me,"

"Don't be silly!" you said, and Wonwoo wished he could believe you if you weren't faced away from him, cooing at his cat, Mimi, while you were holding a cat toy and playing with her.

Somehow, Wonwoo felt like he was the third wheel in his own house. Ever since you had visited his house for the first time, Mimi always seemed to forget his existence. It was cute the first couple of times you visited, but now that you were coming over every other day, it seemed like Mimi couldn't care less about him.

It was to the point where he wondered if he was getting jealous of you or the cat.

"How about we watch a movie?" He suggested, which made your attention to the cat turn to him.

"Sure, what should we watch?" you asked.

You both had ended up deciding on a movie that both of you seemed to have watched a million times, but you always seemed to like it each time.

The both of you settled on the couch, while Mimi walked away into the hallway to do whatever it is a cat such as herself did in order to entertain herself.

As the movie went on, you found yourself resting your head on Wonwoo's shoulder while he wrapped his arm around you. You were about to fall asleep until you felt a weight on your chest. Opening your eyes, you were faced with Mimi, who was looking at you and meowed softly.

"Hello, pretty girl," you cooed, not minding at all at the cat's weight.

From beside you, Wonwoo scoffed and lightly glared at his cat, who he swore was looking smug at the fact that she was interrupting his time with his girlfriend.

"Okay, you can eat my food and steal my spot on the bed, but stealing my girlfriend is where we cross the line," Wonwoo told Mimi, picked her up, and faced her to him so she can know he was being serious.

"Wonu!" you gasped, but you couldn't seem to hide your amusement at your boyfriend's jealousy.

"It's her fault!" Wonwoo sulked.

You giggled at him but then kissed his cheek in order to make him feel better, loving the fact that you saw a hint of pink on his cheeks in both embarrassment and adoration.

"You don't need to be nervous, baby," you reassured him.

"I'm not jealous, she just seems to be forgetting who's her owner," he said, giving the cat a look.

"How about we put Mimi in between us so she has no choice but to interact with the two of us?" You suggested.

Both Wonwoo and Mimi were doing a stare off and secretly, you took a picture of the two of them doing it and sent it to Mingyu, who you had no doubt he was going to laugh at the picture.

Finally, Wonwoo looked away from Mimi's stare and looked at you. "The minute she starts moving towards you more, I get another cat and I'll spoil that cat better," he lightly threatened.

Gasping, you looked betrayed and covered Mimi's ears as if she could hear what he said.

"You wouldn't!"

"I wonder if I can ask Cheol where he got his accessories for Kkuma,"

taglist (if your name is crossed off, it means I couldn't tag you): @belladaises @winterpaos @wonhuiful @minhui896 @baekhyunimochibbh @x-alightinthedark @whywontyousetfree @minghaossv @coffeesandrains @slaveofmydreams @bmkgemz @dandycharmer @outrologist @stagefrjghts @dahliatopia @exo-saranghajaaa @uhlatcha @watermelon-sugars-things @miniminimingi @venzline @kokorit0 @withloveyjh @mikopikotobiko @lockburn-castle @mrs-kamisato @userjunhuii @mypsychicpizzaworld @smileyneos @xuenihao @itsrachelsplace @yoonzinoooo @pepperonidk @jw-0717 @swinterr @blobfishbumblebee @againwithwonu @jeonride @violetvoo @maevadobreva

[ravolix]

late night talking

synopsis: though he always has been a tough nut to crack, you and scaramouche have grown to be best friends. however, on a late-night phone call with him, he finds himself drowsily enamored.

content: modern au, gn!reader, second person, romantic pining (scaramouche), (supposed) one-sided love, fluffy as shit

In hindsight, staying up until 2AM just to talk in mumbled whispers on a school night isn’t the smartest idea. However, when it comes to you, there are no smart ideas in Scaramouche’s mind.

“Oh, and we need to check out that carnival coming sometime in June,” you were saying, extending a finger as you list off another activity.

“Mhm,” Scaramouche hummed absentmindedly. As much as your energy is infectious, he can’t deny the way his eyes start to flutter shut every now and then. Even his grip on the phone falters, the device hot from the nearly 4 hours you’ve been calling for.

“We could also visit the aquarium, the coffee shop behind the—“ You continue the list before you cut yourself off. A single glance into your screen paints a clear picture as to where Scaramouche’s mind is right now.

“Scara? You good?”

“Hm? Uh, yeah,” he murmurs, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes. However, a small yawn escapes him that’s a bit hard to miss, “Keep talking.”

To that, he hears a stifled laugh instead of a verbal response. He glances over to your portrait on his phone, taking in the way the faint artificial light hits your face. How the shadows of your room seem to frame your features so perfectly and the fact that your smile—

“Nah, I’ll stop for tonight. Wouldn’t want you to die from a lack of sleep,” you eventually reply with a chuckle. Scaramouche can hear (and barely see) you flip over in your bed, pulling the covers over your body.

In this new angle, he gets to see a new perspective of your face. A part of him wishes he could just reach out and tuck away that stray piece of hair laying on your forehead. Perhaps if he was there with you, you wouldn’t feel the need to go under the covers for warmth.

Instead, however, he just nods.

“Fair. Guess I’ll catch you tomorrow,” he replies softly, a wind-down from the previous energy the call carried.

“Yep, see you,” your lips curve into a gentle smile.

Scaramouche only replies with a cough, trying to cover up the faint blush as he finds himself getting flustered over your pixely face.

“Sweet dreams, Scara.”

Before he can open his mouth to reply, you already hung up. Though a part of him wishes the call lasted a bit longer, the other part is glad you didn’t have to hear whatever was about to slip from his mouth.

After a few seconds, he sighs and places his phone on his bedside table. He then proceeds to bury his face into the silky case of his pillow as his tired fists come to gently slam against the mattress. Nothing much is heard from him except for a few unintelligible mumbles.

Eventually, Scaramouche flips over onto his back as he stares up at the ceiling. Faint glow-in-the-dark stars from his childhood seem to stare back at him. He lets his eyes flutter shut as a small chuckle escapes his lips.

“Who needs dreams if you’re the sweetest thing I have?”

notes: just another random babble :)) im not the best at writing dialogue but it’s better to do it once in a while

i really like writing scara as this silly little loser rather than a sadistic asshole (atleast in modern aus) (a bit delulu)

ah also i kind of forgot about the harry styles song up until right before posting this, but let’s say it’s loosely inspired 👍

taglist:

@aphroditesswan

[thegr33nc0met]

Dating Stu Macher Headcanons ♥︎

Alternative!Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: NSFW, GN Reader/unspecified anatomy, Switch!Stu (a little heavy on the sub side), Switch!Reader, overstimulation, light bondage, pet names, after care

I’m so sorry this took so long to post and that I forgot to add the cat bit:(( I’ve just been a bit busy with work and stuff but I hope you enjoy!!

SFW

♥︎ Stu loves loves LOVES your style. soft band tees, long flowing clothes and light fabrics? he’s eating you up. om nom nom.

the way they wrap around your body like a silky cocoon is just MAGICAL to him. you’re like a witch covered in fog and spider’s silk bro.

♥︎ if you wear makeup, he is very intrigued by how you do it and will definitely make you put some on him. you know that picture of someone laying on top of another person while they do their eyeliner?? yeah that’s you guys.

he loves when you kiss him and leave a cute little lipstick stamp on his cheek.

same with painting his nails. like if you paint your nails black, he will BEG you to do his as well (i like to imagine he bites his nails, so it’s kinda hard to do with how short they’re bitten down).

♥︎ he’ll discover a band or artist that he thinks is even slightly alternative and he’ll ask if you know them (then make you listen to them if you haven’t). they may not actually be alternative, but he’s trying his best to be supportive<3

LOVES going to concerts with you. the whole vibe of the alternative/goth community is so refreshing to him. he thinks everyone is so chill and nice:)

♥︎ as I’ve stated before, his love languages are gift giving and acts of service. anything you want, he’s gonna get it for you one way or another (whether he buys it or steals it, it’s YOURS). if you guys are hanging out at the local strip mall and you get something, he’ll carry all your shopping bags for you<<33 he’ll buy you things even if you don’t ask for it; you’re constantly getting new clothes and jewelry from him that he thinks you’ll like.

he will hold doors open for you and carry your backpack at school. he’ll even let you hop on his back if you get tired of walking.

Stu definitely calls you cutie. i also think he loves to make up random nicknames on the spot. pookie bear, schnookums, muffin, ducky, sweet potato pie, honey booger.. silly stuff like that, but they’re mostly used in a humorous way. cutie is his favourite pet name for you.

♥︎ loves when you borrow his sweaters, whether they’re big enough to be a dress on you or fit you as a regular sweater, or just a lazy day shirt… it gives him cuteness aggression to the max. he just wants to squeeze you til you pop!!<3

♥︎ MOVIE NIGHTS ALL THE TIME!!! he loves cuddling up against you on the couch, a blanket draped across the two of you as some cheesy slasher film plays on the tv. will go all out with snacks (he’s the type of person to put m&ms in his popcorn so be warned if that’s not your thing).

♥︎ he’s always gotta have an arm slung over your shoulders or hips no matter where you are.

NSFW

♥︎ oh lord… this man.. the first time you guys have sex is a wild ride let me tell you!!

♥︎ STU👏IS👏A👏SWITCH👏!!!

♥︎ he loves going down on you. he wants to give you as many orgasms with his mouth as possible until you can hardly handle it. he wants to give you as much pleasure as he can so you know you’re his. so you know no one else can make you feel as good as he does.

once you’re whimpering and nearly crying from overstimulation, he’ll pull his mouth away from your abused sex and rub his big hands over your trembling legs and coo comforting shushes at you until you settle down before he’s sliding inside. he’ll make you come over and over again until he’s satisfied.

♥︎ but if you wanna be dominant?? USE HIM HOWEVER YOU WANT HE’LL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU AND LET YOU DO ANYTHING TO HIM.

he’s definitely a service bottom when/if you’re dominant. he just wants to make you feel good as possible.

♥︎ if you tease him while he’s bottoming and gets real desperate, he starts giggling like a mad man between broken moans. god he’s just so DESPERATE FOR YOU TO TOUCH HIM.

“hehehehehehha—ungh!~ yes!— heheh..” as a sheen of sweat is covering his hot body and tears are streaming down his cheeks, pooling at his chin, squirming and writhing against the restraints as you teasing drag the pads of your fingers up to his leaking tip. “p-please… just keep touching me like that… you’ll make me feel good? right, cutie? you’ll let me come?” he pants out, biting down on his lip to keep the nervous laughter from bubbling up again, his pretty blue eyes lidded as he stares you down.

♥︎ imagine him throwing his head back and letting out the sluttiest moan when you finally take him inside you after teasing him for so long.

“th-thank you… god, fuck! you feel so fuckin’ good…” he practically growls out, smiling widely in ecstasy as you fuck him. he lets out the most pathetic whimpers and moans when he finally comes inside you, ‘thanks yous’ falling repeatedly from his mouth.

♥︎ he loves giving as much as he loves receiving after care. if it’s not too late at night/if the two of you aren’t too tired, he’ll get a shower running for both of you, and loves to clean you up while pressing gentle kisses to any part of your body he can. he’d love it if you did the same for him. then after the shower, he’ll get you a cup of water before cuddling back up with you in bed and falling asleep<3

comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!🫶

[lulubelle814]

A Marriage of Convenience - Part 4

Part 5

A Marriage of Convenience Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Any trigger warnings are listed in the tags.

1 year into the fake marriage

Although today was a holiday, Loki still had to go into the office because of some big project and turned down Eva’s offer to come and help.  He’d been a bit distant the past few days, but work was also a mess.  She used this time to herself to walk to the nearby bookstore and browse their collection.  It was a unique kind of bookstore called The Reading Nook.  The store had a comfortable, homey feel that she loved.  Looking around the store, her eye caught a book with a pretty cover: The Invisible Life of Addie Larue.  Reading the description, it sounded intriguing.  A girl who makes a deal with a dark god to have her freedom with a catch: once she’s out of sight, she is no longer remembered by whomever was around.  There were other details she found interesting and decided to buy the book after reading the first few pages.

One other book caught her eye: Neil Gaiman’s Norse Mythology.  He was a favorite author of hers and thought Loki might like it, seeing as his namesake is in more than one of the stories.  Up at the register, Clark scanned the books and bagged them.  Hopefully it would at least give him a bit of a laugh.  

On the walk back home, she had an idea, something his mother had mentioned, one that might help cheer up Loki after having to work on one of his few days off.  Stopping by the store on her way home, she unbagged everything and turned on the oven to preheat.  Picking up her phone, she started one of her playlists almost at full blast (not wanting to disturb any neighbors who might be home).  Pulling out the big pot, she followed the directions his mother had given her a while back.  While the stew simmered on the stove, she started on the dessert: lemon bars.  

With the loud music, she didn’t hear the front door open, nor did she notice Loki having found her in the kitchen, leaning against the wall watching.  He pulled out his phone to take a couple of pictures quickly as well as record a short video of it; however, she saw him as he was taking the video and got her squeaking in embarrassment on video.  “You can’t sneak up on a girl like that!”  She threw a kitchen towel at him which hit him in the chest as he laughed.  “I couldn’t help myself, darling.  Are you making stew?”  Eva smiled and nodded.  “I got the recipe from your mother a couple of weeks ago.  I know you’ve been stressed with work and thought you’d like some comfort food.”

Loki couldn’t hold himself back from enveloping her in his arms.  He kissed her on the cheek before pointing to the other thing she was working on.  “Are those lemon bars?”

“They are!  I know how you like your sweets, and I found a recipe I wanted to try.”

He lightly gripped her arms, giving her a quick kiss on the mouth.  “You really are the best.”  As he went to take a closer look, her hand touched her lips, thinking about the unsolicited kiss.  Sure they’d kissed before, but it was always in public and always as part of the charade, but no one else was here.  Was he even aware of what he’d just done?

She turned to see him swiping a bit of the lemon filling on his finger to taste and lightly smacked his hand.  “Oi! Not until after they’re done you silly man.”  Loki laughed at her response, holding up his hands in defeat.  “Yes, ma’am.”  Slowly, his good mood faded, and the sound of his voice turning sour.  “I have to go on a business trip Monday.  I’ll be gone a few days.”  

“I’m sorry.”  Then she suddenly remembered.  “I got something for you.  You could take it on your trip if you’d like.”  His eyebrows scrunched.  “You didn’t have to get me anything.”  It only took a moment to remember where she’d put the book bag and pulled out the norse mythology book, handing it to him.  When he saw it, a grin spread across his face.  “I love Neil Gaiman!”  He hugged her, kissing the top of her head.  “Thank you, darling.  I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all of this.  And this book is definitely coming with me.”

She stepped back, leaning against the counter.  “How long will you be gone?”

Another sigh.  “Most of the week.  I should be back no later than Friday though.  I wish I didn’t have to go at all, but Odin isn’t feeling well.  Apparently that’s why he had me go into the office today.”

“I’m so sorry.  I hope he feels better soon.”  Eva turned back to the stove to stir the stew.  Loki came up and held her from behind.  “Yeah, but you’ve made this day so much better with all of this.  I haven’t had this stew since I was a boy.”  She held up a spoonful for him to try.  “What do you think?  Does it need more salt?”  The smile on his face said everything.  “It’s perfect.”

While she finished up and placed the lemon bars in the oven, Loki set the table, pulling out bowls and spoons.  The soup was poured into a nicer container, one that had a lid and could be put into the fridge later.

Loki was gone for a few days on a business trip.  Eva got so used to having him around that it felt lonely with him gone.  So she tried to keep herself occupied like she had before this contracted marriage: reading books, watching a bit of tv, etc, but none of it held the same joy that it had before.

Things at work continued to go well.  With Loki on the business trip, her days were less busy, and she was eager for Loki to come back, not that he felt the same way about her.  In the time they’d been cohabiting in this ruse, her deep seeded crush was turning into requited love, and she was doing what she could to squash it: going to movies by herself, running errands alone, and the like.  Distractions were good.  Distractions helped keep her mind off it.

Meanwhile, Loki was getting bored in the meetings he was forced to attend on this trip, his mind wandering back to that weekend, the soup, the sweets, and the book.  He kept looking at the pictures on his phone of her dancing in the kitchen and watching the video on mute. A small smile formed across his face as he spaced out thinking about it.  When someone asked for his comment on a matter, he pretended he was listening but didn’t understand what they’d said, asking them to clarify.

Back in the main office, Steve noticed Loki was gone for the week and used the opportunity to get closer to Eva, becoming bolder than he had before, touching her hand when purposefully going to reach for the same thing, brushing against her back in the breakroom.  The further into the week they got, the more aggressive he became.  She did everything she could to avoid being in the same room as Steve.  When Thursday came around, he made his move, finding her alone in the supply closet.  Closing and locking it behind him, he pinned her against a set of shelves by her neck.  “Get off of me!”  She tried to push him off of her, but he was stronger than he looked.  “Nah nah, baby girl.  I’ve seen how you are in the office.  You like me, admit it.”

Shaking her head, tears started to fall.  “I don’t!  I’m married to Loki.  You know this.”  She tried to show him her giant engagement/wedding ring.  Instead, he grabbed the hand, using it to help pin her.  “If you really didn’t want me, then why haven’t you reported me?”  A spin chilling grin spread across his face.  Pulling her other hand up, he held both with one hand while the other started groping her.  The dam holding her tears back burst.  “Stop!”  This time, her voice was louder, hoping someone would hear.  It didn’t stop him.  In fact, he started kissing around her face as his hand wandered further down her body.  As he reached her nether region, he fondled her folds through her underwear.  “You know you want this, baby.”  Shaking her head, she cried loudly, continuing to protest.

Downstairs, Loki arrived back early, the meetings having gone well.  He knew his wife would still be at the office and thought he’d stop in to offer her a ride home.  Not sure where she was assigned that day, he started towards his office.  While walking down one of the hallways, a terrifying sound interrupted him from his thoughts.  Someone was screaming for help.  Following the sound, it was coming from the supply closet.  Trying to open it, he found it was locked.  The screaming and crying inside continued.  Rather than demand the door be opened, he followed his instincts and kicked the door down, finding his wife being assaulted.  All he could see was red, ripping Steve away and punching him in the face.  He continued to kick him when the assaulter fell on the floor.  With the door now open, the sounds reached farther in the office, people running to see what was going on.  Two gentlemen who came had to pull Loki off of Steve before he killed him.  Another held Steve so that he couldn’t run.  Someone called the police and said they were on their way.  

Loki shrugged the two men off to check on Eva.  He moved gently so as to not scare or startle her.  “Darling, are you alright?  Did he hurt you?”  He scanned her to see any signs of injury and spotted the bruises showing up on her wrists and neck.  Just as he turned to take his rage out on her assaulter, the police arrived.  Steve was swiftly arrested, and the detectives took statements from both Loki and Eva.  Eva had a hard time trying to tell them, feeling so overwhelmed and broken that they called an ambulance for her.  Loki went with her to the hospital, holding her hand gently the entire time.

At the A&E, a female doctor was assigned to help her, to help minimize the trauma.  Loki refused to leave her side but looked away out of respect when they inspected her more delicate areas.  Thankfully there were no other injuries to be found.  Eva was given something to help her calm.  “This will help, but it will very likely make you fall asleep.”  True to their word, she was asleep a few minutes later.  They wrote a script for Xanax, advising Loki that she’ll likely need it over the next few days at least and released her to go home.  He was able to get the script filled at the hospital so that she wouldn’t be alone even for a few minutes in the car, feeling she was safer in the A&E while he got it done.

When they arrived home, she was still completely knackered from the sedative.  He didn’t want to leave her alone and laid her down in his bed rather than her own so he could be there should he have nightmares, or at least to be there whenever she woke up so she’d know she wasn’t alone.  When she awoke later that night, the first thing she saw was Loki and was flooded with relief.  Starting to cry again, he held her close, stroking her hair and telling her over and over that it’s okay, that he was right there and wouldn’t leave her alone.

From that night on, she spent more time sleeping in Loki’s bed, feeling safer with him so close, and her things slowly migrated into his room, not that he minded one bit, even making room in his closet and drawers for her.

Dividers by @jiyascepter

Taglist: @vbecker10 @eleniblue @msdjsg7 @lovingchoices14

Taglist is open!

[strawberrykidneystone]

Shepard-Vakarian Love Nest

garrus vakarian x fem shepard

summary: garrus installs a security system while shepard redecorates

a/n: finished me3 and immediately replayed the whole thing again with slightly different choices,,, i'm obsessed and I need to cope with the heartache of leaving garrus behind to save the universe xoxo space jesus </3

tags: fluff to cope with the ending of me3, flirting, established relationship, shepard instead of y/n, colonist background shepardf if you squint

ao3 version

"garrus this feels a little... overkill."

"that's the point shepard, to overkill anyone who tries to break in."

shepard rolled her eyes playfully and looked around the apartment with her arms crossed. there were sensors on every window and door in the sizable apartment. she managed to talk him down from installing explosives inside, convincing him that it would be way too much paperwork and too much of a risk if she accidentally set them off herself. however, she had to give her boyfriend credit where credit was due, it did make her feel safer. especially since he installed thicker bullet-proof window panes and rolling steel covers for emergencies.

while he was working on making shepard's home safer, she was busy with making andserson's former apartment into her own. she wanted to make it less of a bachelor pad and more of a proper place where she and garrus could hang their hats at the end of the day.

while it was originally supposed to be a getaway just for her, it was too quiet for her taste, and more often than not she has the current and former crew of the normandy over whenever she could.

but for now, it was just the two of them.

she was comparing the current wood of the kitchen cabinets to a new red sample that she picked up. it felt a little silly to be concerned about the colors of the apartment while there were reapers destroying planets, but everyone needed a break now and then. this might be the last shore leave she would ever have. it was somewhat morbid to think about, the last time she had shore leave it was forced on her after she defended elysium despite all odds.

while she was lost in thought, garrus snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder, "hmm i like the red, but a darker burgundy would look better."

shepard hummed and leaned her cheek against his, "i think that would look nice, you have quite the eye vakarian."

"i'm aware. you know i have great taste. especially in partners," he purred into her ear and nipped softly at her neck.

shepard chuckled and turned around in his arms, lacing her hands behind his neck, "that i'll have to agree with you on." she slowly unlaced her fingers and ran her hands down the front of his chest armor, looking up into his gorgeous cobalt eyes, "so, did you find the best vantage point to shoot intruders from?"

garrus chuckled and scratched the back of his neck, suddenly looking very sheepish. if turians could blush, he would be bright red. "there are quite a few adequate spots, however, i'll wait until you're done fully redecorating to make the spots permanent."

"'ppreciate that honey," she smiled and stood on her tip toes, pressing a chaste kiss on his cheek plate.

shepard walked over to her personal computer and ordered the new redwood for the kitchen, along with new paint for the walls. all the white walls were so boring, customizing this place as her own home gave her hope, something that she could look forward to coming back to. having someone with her to share it with made it all the better, giving her hope for the future and something to look forward to once this was all over.

even if he does insist that they need the latest security systems that he personally has to inspect and install, not trusting anyone else to do it right.

of course, she also wanted garrus to add in his own decorations; pictures of his homeworld and family, traditional turian art pieces, etc. shepard was even planning to convert one of the empty bedrooms into a painting studio for him.

maybe one day they would fill it with human-turian babies, or a bunch of krogan, depending one how things went.

a/n: pls let me know if i made any grammatical or spelling mistakes <333

[mercurycft]

𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐖? — 𝐋𝐁. 𝐊𝐖

## lucy bronze x keira walsh !!

Hello everyone.. I am so sorry for my inactivity! Life has been absolutely mental recently and I was struggling to find any sort of free time!! please bare with! in the meantime— I was feeling emotional and angsty. So enjoy this angsty fic! Love always - RG x

This is obviously NOT an accurate representation of their relationship, or how I see them as individuals. This is purely fiction and for entertainment purposes :) x

1,721 words.

CONTAINS MATURE LANGUAGE ++

Was it really a breakup?

Could you call it that?

There was no crying, no fighting, no shouting. Just silence. Silence followed by the packing of bags and the slam of the front door.. Then just, nothing.

——————————

That was two weeks ago. Now Keira lay in their home, or what once was their home, alone. In the sheets of their bed, Narla curled between her legs. Sleep didn’t come easy, finding no comfort in the overly empty bed. Tossing and turning under the covers, mind endlessly racing. The nights were hard for Keira, the quiet almost too quiet - so heavy it sat like pressure on her chest. The dark that was once so warm and comforting now seemed uninviting. It crept around the corners of the house and under the doors, stalking through the halls.

Lucy’s presence still lingered through the house, pictures adorning the walls of memories and moments the pair shared. Her favourite mug sat on the counter untouched - the same as her slippers, still downstairs by the unlocked front door. She couldn’t lock it, worried that if Lucy hadn’t taken a key she wouldn’t be able to get in. She couldn’t chance it, so it remained unlocked with the entry-way light constantly on.

Door unlocked.

Light on.

Keira tried to ignore it, the reminders that followed her from room to room. The reminders that littered their bedroom - small photos, her clothes on the floor. She just couldn’t bring herself to face it, whatever it is.

She was tired, exhausted even, completely drained of all emotion and energy that had consumed her over the last few days. She usually gave up trying to sleep at around 2am, however today she had finally drifted off.

——————————

Lucy however, was far from sleep. Lost in the moment, through the vodka and coke haze that sat behind her eyes, found herself stumbling up the drive and towards the front door. The quiet seemed to amplify the sound of her unsteady footsteps, vision blurred as she searched through her pocket for her house key. After a few moments she had the key in the door, futile as it turned against an already open lock.

Inside and upstairs, Keira lay unaware of who stood just outside the front door. Sleep muffling the shuffling of feet as the door opened. A mildly-intoxicated Lucy stumbling across the threshold, the faint smell of alcohol clung to her skin, mingling with the aroma of the night air and her sweet perfume.

Narla was a good sleeper, rarely loud or awoken by anything other than food.. or Lucy. So when she stirred and stood to attention at the end of the bed, Keira shot up as well - alarmed by the sudden movement that tore her away from her sleep. The of her bark reverberated throughout the silent house, echoing off the walls. Disturbed from her dreams, Keira slowly opened her eyes, mind still foggy with sleep - trying to reach for the fluffy dog at her feet for comfort.

“Silly puppy, what’s the matter? hm?” She whispered into the darkness, barely making out the shape of her doggy-face and scratching behind her perked ears. Keira knew deep down the only thing that could wake her at this hour would be Lucy, and although she had the left the door unlocked repeatedly (for the full 15 days since she had left) she couldn’t help the anxiety that grew and sat heavy in the pit of her stomach.

With each unsteady step Lucy took downstairs, the tension seemed to thicken, saturating the atmosphere within the house. A moment of worry washed over Keira's tired mind - What would she say? What would she do?

By the time Keira had gotten out and off of the bed, grabbed a hoodie to chuck on over the jersey that hung from her. Lucy’s Jersey. Narla had scrambled off the bed and was stood alert at the bedroom door, paw raising to scratch at the wood with her nose pressed against the crack, tail wagging madly.

When she had finally opened the door, the westie wasted no time in running down the stairs and straight to Lucy - who was now bent down to her level and greeting the excited dog. Keira hung back, stepping quietly through the hallway and towards the staircase. She knew once she stepped down Lucy would have a full view of her, and she would have full view of Lucy.

Keira took a few calming breaths, as if she was psyching herself up to walk down. After a few she did, carefully and slowly. Eyes locked in the direction of the front door. She saw Lucy first, taking her in. Silently admiring her from afar. The way she smiled, how her hair fell effortlessly in front of her face, how her top fit like a glove in all the right places.

“Luce?” Her voice was soft yet hoarse, her vocal chords fried from the hours of crying.

——————————

It was almost like time had frozen for Lucy, watching as Keira descended down the last few steps and stood in front of her. She didn’t know what to say, standing so they were at the same level. Suddenly all too aware of what she had done. She had a few drinks, cried a few tears and made her way back to the house without thinking.

“It’s 2am..” Keira’s voice jolted her from her thoughts once more, causing them to finally meet eyes. The lamp in the room was dim, but it gave enough light for Lucy to notice the red of Keira’s eyes.

“Yeah, uhm-” She cleared her throat, buying herself time to figure out what to say. “I wanted to see you.” Lucy mentally cursed herself, internally grovelling at her lack of excuse or explanation.

“You wanted to see me?” Keira pressed, pausing for a moment when she saw Lucy’s mouth open to respond - but she kept going. “You. Wanted to see. Me.”

It wasn’t a question, at least it didn’t sound like a question. More like a statement of disbelief. The tone shocked Keira herself, unsure of where the bitterness had come from - but somehow she couldn’t stop it.

“You wanted to see me!” She got louder, then the word vomit started.

“You wanted to see me! You could’ve ‘wanted to see me’ a week ago Lucy! Two weeks! Two weeks I’ve been here waiting for you. For a text or for a call! God I’ve been leaving the fucking door unlocked just incase you showed up!” Breathe. But she couldn’t, her hurt now sewn into anger and frustration.

“You left! You just up and left me here! Alone! For two fucking weeks. Crying and ruining myself because you fucking left!”

“I know Ke-”

“No you don’t know! Because while I was here, alone. You were out getting drunk and doing god knows what! Where were you?”

“Ke-” There was no break to reply.

“No actually! I could probably tell you where you were! But in all honesty, I don’t care! Lucy this isn’t fair! You don’t get to just come home at 2am on a fucking random Thursday because you ‘wanted to see me’ god!” Still not breathing.

“It’s not like-”

“You don’t get to just walk in here and fucking stroke the dog like you’ve just got in from work! You fucking left..” The end of her sentence fell away, her voice cracking and tears pricking behind her eyes. Finally taking a deep breath and gulping.

“Keira..” Lucy stepped closer, arms outstretched towards her.

“No! I was here! Alone!” She was sobbing now, almost hyperventilating in front of the older woman. Arms thrown in the air to punctuate her point. She quietened for a moment, a meek attempt to compose of herself and assess the situation. Taking a deep breath under Lucy’s gaze before she continued.

“You left me, and I’m crying. And you’re drunk.” She spoke softer now, still gasping for breath and wiping away her own tears with her sleeve. Her words were laced with hurt, her throat tight and chest heaving as she stared across the room at Lucy.

Lucy’s arms were back by her side as she tried to comprehend what had happened, to process the things Keira had said - eyes locked on the wooden panels below them.

“Im sorry, Kei.” She whispered, looking back up at her from the ground.

“Oh yeah alright,” She grumbled sarcastically under her breath, pulling her arms across her chest and leaning against the banister. “Were you sorry yesterday? or a week ago? How about two weeks ago?” She continued.

It carried on like this for a few minutes, Keira getting everything off of her chest and Lucy stood there taking it. In all honesty, Keira didn’t know what she was saying. All logical parts of her brain now overrun by frustration and emotion. She didn’t register what was happening until she was marching towards the front door, swinging it open with a leg out to hold Narla back.

“Go.” She whispered, pain dripping from the singular word. “Please..” She couldn’t look up, now looking at the dog sat confused by her feet.

“Keira, why don’t we talk-”

She shook her head in response, not letting Lucy finish her sentence once more. Lifting a hand to wipe away the tears cascading down her cheeks, pooling beneath her jaw and running down her neck.

“I Love you, but please..” Keira paused. “Please go.”

Lucy took a second to breathe, tears now piling in her eyes. She nodded slowly in acknowledgment, giving Narla a stroke and moving towards Keira and the door. She gave Keira a small kiss on the cheek, pausing momentarily against her skin - clenching her jaw and taking her in. Whispering a small “Love you..” against her before pulling away.

She didn’t want to but she knew, for now, she had to. For the second time tonight she stepped back across the threshold, pausing to give Keira one last look.

Keira couldn’t look at her, closing the door firmly. Hoping maybe if Lucy went, she wouldn’t have to face the reality of what she said.

They stood there for a while. On either side of the door, silently begging for each-other. Longing for things to be how they were.

Lucy heard a shuffle from the other side, Keira’s shadow moving across the glass - followed by a small click of the lock, watching as the light flickered and then disappeared from the room.

Exhaling a final breath before turning to walk away.

Door locked.

Light off.

[lady-of-the-spirit]

Universal Monsters + Fuckability

Qualifications (choosing movies)

I have seen the movie.

Characters listed as part of the Universal Monsters lineup (Phantom of the Opera from 1925 for example is not included.)

Personality and events of film considered just as much as physical attractiveness.

[ID: Picture of Bela Lugosi as Dracula, dressed in black clothes and a cape, staring at the camera with an annoyed expression. His face is slightly in the shadows. End id]

Dracula (1931)

Bela Lugosi kinda handsome

Vampires hot

Rich. 

Has three wives (dick is good) (plus you can hang out with wives)

Hypnosis

Loses points because the movie was boring and he kills Lucy Westron, poly icon (antifeminist)

7/10

[ID: image of Boris Karloff as Frankenstein, holding his hands to his face, looking offscreen and with a disturbed expression. The lighting only lights up his face. End ID]

Frankenstein (1931)

Literally just born (minor) and doesn’t understand sex

Movie diverged too much from the book for me to like it 

Too awkward and big

Unclear if he has any genitalia at all

1/10 because this image is cool and a little sexy

[ID: Boris Karloff as Imhotep the mummy. His skin is dried and sunken in. He's glaring at something offscreen. He's dressed in a high collar brown shirt and a cap that covers the top of his head. End ID]

The Mummy (1932)

One of my faves 

Backstory is centered around LOVE - will literally curse the gods and forsake everyone for his lover. Hot. 

The opening scene where he came awake for the first time was sexy.

Anti colonialist

Hypnosis

Nice voice

Loses points for unfortunately not being very attractive - dry skin

9/10

[No image for this slide]

The Invisible Man (1933)

Wanted to take over the world and went to his best friend and not his FIANCE??? Gay, and clearly doesn’t care about lover’s needs (even with said best friend). 

Not a monster, just an asshole

Pushed over a baby carriage! Disgusting

We don’t know what he looks like. Sexiness only comes from whether or not you think having sex with someone you can’t see would be hot or not.

Gets points for being a silly little guy, ambition being hot, and the “villain goes soft only for his loved one” trope

Still. -5/10

Bride of Frankenstein (1935)

Like Frankenstein, Literally just born (minor) and doesn’t understand sex

Also had strong reaction AGAINST being an object of desire and so ranking her is missing the point

However because she’s the ONLY woman on this list she gets special privileges.

will be ranking her as if she was not literally ten minutes old and if she understood sex

[ID: Elsa Lanchester as the bride of Frankenstein. The lighting of the image is very bright, so you can see her whole upper body with very few shadows. She's staring at something offscreen with a curious but frightened expression. She wears white robes, and her hair is black with a white streak up the sides, in a beehive style. End ID]

Bride of Frankenstein (1935) (cont.)

Horror movie scream A+

Gorgeous and Iconic

Understands No Means No. (Unlike other creatures on this list) 

Baby Girl you are SO unnerving 💖💖💖 

Tall Woman. Probably strong. 

10/10.

[ID: Two images of the wolf man. One is the wolf man as the wolf man, standing in thr woods, his face covered in fur, his hands furry and clawed, looking panicked. The second is Lon Cheney Jr. as Larry Talbot, a white man with short dark hair slicked back, dressed in a suit with a plaid tie, with a stressed out look on his face. End ID]

The Wolf Man (1941)

This movie just makes me sad. Larry Talbot is a tragic figure.

But he’s also kind of a stalker (spies on woman)

Only a monster half of the time

Wolf form isn’t attractive. (human form okay.)

No sense of control. 

Not even a little okay with his murders. Too pathetic and sad.

2/10

[ID: Image of the creature from the black lagoon, a creature the size of a man covered in scaley and amphibian-like skin with a fish-like face. He's mostly submerged in water, only his head and finned hands with sharp claws poking out of the water. End ID]

The Creature From The Black Lagoon (1954)

Definitely my favourite

Environmentalist! Anti colonialist! 

Swimming scene half creepy half romantic, also gets points for inspiring The Shape of Water (2017).

Phenomenal creature design, A+. 

Just wants someone to love

Will kill everyone else but NOT lover.

Underwater sex. Rough sex.

Sex will probably be awkward because of this.

8/10

[ID: profile of the Bride of Frankenstein. Her head is tiled up and her eyes are mostly closed.]

Congratulations to our winner! Runner ups, The Mummy and the Creature From the Black Lagoon.

[sanjisblackasswife]

Sjskwjskwk I had a cute random thought and I would LOOOOVE if you attempted it!! (Pretty please) Jus a cute lil short of reader attempting to make her own food because she feels she’s a bother to Sanji since he’s always making her things. Kind of like wanting to make him something in return but she fails miserable and he catches her in the act?? Idk random ik lmao but it would be darn cute😪😪💙

That’s TEW cute. Okay, enjoy!

Baking for Sanji (FLUFF)

WC: 900

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: None! Alotta fluff though.

-

“So two cups of milk—dammit where is the measuring cup?”

You managed to have the kitchen to yourself now that everybody has gone to bed. Even the cook of the ship considering he was exhausted from not only making meals all day but from having to fight off countless unneeded enemies that approached you all in the sea.

You couldn’t help, but notice how quick and swift Sanji was to save you from many close calls as you were fighting as well and he does it constantly. Sure, you all have grown to respect, know, and even become a family so it’s normal you all have each others back and it’s appreciated without saying, acts of service was everybody’s love language to each other including you, but you also wanted to give him a little something as a thank you. He mentioned he enjoyed a specific pastry once, but he never had the time to make it and you actually knew what he wanted because you’ve had it before in your childhood.

However you wasn’t a very good baker, but you wanted to try it none the less and surprise him that morning. As a thank you.

“Dang it!” You screamed the metal mixing bowl slipping from your clumsy fingers and crashing onto the recently cleaned floors. You mentally slap yourself hoping nobody heard and comes rushing in. It was already a pain to get Luffy out of the kitchen before you started.

The kitchen that was usually filled with delicious aroma that could overflow the ship was now filled with burning crust and sounds of the fire alarm going off. Your Sanji’s apron was covered in chocolate and flour as well as your hair, face and arms, you immediately grabbed a towel to fan out the smoke curses flow out your mouth of how annoyed you were at this whole silly situation and you hope Sanji doesn’t get too mad if he caught you ruining his kitchen.

“Y/N?”

You felt you organs drop down your stomach, you turned slowly, face hot as can be hoping it wasn’t the cook, but of course it was.

“What—what are doing? Are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry!” You groaned in defeat leaning on the kitchen island, “I am I really wanted to make that chocolate pastry you liked and surprise you, but my dumbass can’t bake for crap so I thought okay maybe if I followed the directions I wouldn’t mess up, but half of your cookbooks are in French and I could only use the pictures, and then I panicked an—“

Sanji Just started laughing, his voice erupted in the room and bouncing off the walls, the look of pure horror and panic was so cute to him. He stared at you the entire time with big round hearts, you were so cute! You had on his apron that he never really cared to use, but it fit you like a glove, it reminded him so much of when he first started cooking. Of course he wasn’t angry, he was flattered.

“Hey! Stop laughing!” You poured out your lip sulking on the messy counter, he wiped his teary eyes and pulled out a cigarette to light before coming next to you and rubbing your back. “I just wanted to surprise you.”

He swore his heart skipped a beat. He would have ate it whether it came out perfect or burnt. The thought of you cooking for him out of the blue made him smile with glee. Sanji turned at the mess you made did happily sighed.

“How about we bake it together, sweetheart?”

You side eye’s him, your cheeks warmed again seeing as he was so close to your side, hand dangerously low on your back tracing shapes on your skin. He grabs the towel and wipes your cheek gently, earning him a small grin from you.

“You’re not mad?”

“Never! I could never be mad at you! It’s the thought that counts, my love! Besides you look so amazing in that apron!”

His heart eyes were all over your body, he truly adorned you and so you both spent the night in the kitchen baking and having some nice quality time together. Sanji usually doesn’t enjoy cooking with others, but you made it fun.

Mostly because all you did was keep him company as you talked and taste tested for him while sitting on the counter.

“And Voilà!” He pulled out the plate to you, they looked and smelled amazing, your eyes drooling over the sweet treats in front of you and there was no mess to clean afterwards.

“Perfect as always, Mr. Prince.”

He blushed, taking a pastry in his hand he held it up to your mouth , “Say ah.”

You do as told and took a bite, he smiled at your happy reaction to the taste, it was heavenly,

“Thank you! Next time I have to bake for you though!”

“No worries, Angel. Its my pleasure to feed you.” Sanji kissed your forehead before giving you another pastry to eat, but this time you pulled him in between your legs and fed him.

“Say ah.”

His face was so cutely pink as you placed it in his mouth to bite into making you giggle, it reminded you of when you were a kidand you expressed that to him before as he was mixing the ingredients which is why he made sure to take his time, because as much as you appreciated Sanji he damn sure appreciated you.

[herzzgeist]

Pairing: Corazon x gn!reader | Word count: 1k | Warnings: none

Synopsis: What happens when a clumsy, tall and thin human being attempts to glide over the ice like a pro figure skater? Especially a certain man who's ability even to stand straight is doomed to fail at times? Correct, he most likely face plants the cold surface - until his lovely little thing (Y/n) steps in, offering a helping hand to that lovable klutz.

A/N: Cold Nights - Warm Hearts! A short winter story to envelope you all in a fluffy feather coat - something mellow and sweet (crushing a bit on this soft boy)

Dividers by cafekitsune ~

The first crystals of snow gathered over the plains, covering the lands in light blue hued white. Everytime you suck in the crisp cold air, your lungs appear to crackle like ice.

Warmth emits from the sunrise, rising into the pastel coloured sky. It's truly a sight to behold - emotions only enhanced by the picture before you, accompanied with the feeling of the soon arriving Christmas eve.

From each step taken, the snow crunches beneath your feet, however a second pair of shoes indents the snow with giant prints next to you. "Hey honey, what do you say we go to the lake and enjoy the ice skating festival near the village?", a voice low asks you sweetily.

Corazon places his palm behind your back, supporting your unsteady stomps on the powdered white. Through breathy huffs you chuckle your reply: "That sounds wonderful!"

You cannot supress more giggles, thinking of your lover slipping over the ice, walzing over it like a stork in a salad field. Rosinante takes notice of your secretive amusement and joins your titters: "What's so funny?" - "I'm sorry, I'm simply looking foward to ice skating with you."

Torn open eyes look you up and down, abashed more than in the slightest. Waving his hands infuriatingly, he declines your little dreams, saying he wouldn't survive such a stunt. He merely wants to 'be' there, enjoying the amtosphere. Right.

The both of you stop your walk for a moment and he stumbles over his own words: "You know I'm not the most . . elegant, (Y/n)."

"Oh hush, you're the most graceful being I know!", you beam and pull on his heart shaped strings of his beanie, drawing him closer to plant a kiss on those silent lips, a hint of smoke lingering on his skin. He hums shakily in fluster and admits defeat: "Alright alright, you win sweety."

-_

Horses pull sleighs over the frozen streets and villagers gather around the stalls of the market, preparing for the ice skating over at the lake, not far from town.

"Are you sure this is going to work?", Corazon holds up a pair of figure skating shoes, looking at them as if they're about to bite his face off. Reassuring him with a purr you nudge his sides. How much you adore this silly man, his playful and overdramatic acting skills when it comes to goofing around.

Ready to rumble, you follow the crowd - the tall blonde mutters, while lighting a cigarette, luckily without his coat catching fire: "I'm going to regret this." - "Don't say that Cora!" The smoke wafts your way, engulfing you. Flicking away the excess ash off the cigarette's tip, his lips form a frown, the red lines of his make up contorting his face to the extreme.

"If you say so . .", to wash away his doubts you interlace your fingers with his, holding his hand gently - so you utter: "You'll totally rock this, trust me."

-_

And he "totally" dragged along the frozen, giving his utmost best in keeping a steady posture, long legs trembling as if new born. to this world Curses spit out of him whenever he realises he's lost balance, losing the fight against gravity - not a surprise.

Each time you hear a loud thud and hushed 'Crap', you whince - shoulders retacting, almost shivering to the sound. Is your man cursed? It is a question that swirls around your mind on a daily basis.

Nonetheless, Corazon is still able to make a show out of this entertaining display, throwing unexpected jokes or tacky puns at you like: "Ice to meet you, you come here often?" He slides by, raising a brow to play it 'cool' and deftly hits the frozen floor.

The adorable clown falls over and over until he's come to the point of accepting his painful fate, simply lying there like a sea star, watching the clouds pass by. "I give up."

Gliding over to the poor body laying pathetically on the ice, limbs expanded to all directions, you lower to his level and reach out for his hand to offer support. "That was a beautiful leap you did there love.", a small huff of muse escapes you, supressing a chuckle convulsively.

"(Y/n), I landed on my ass . . twenty times in three minutes.", Corazon snorts, propping himself up onto his elbows, accepting your assistance. Or does he? He pulls you in, heaving you on top of his large frame. Taken aback, your shock is vacant in your eyes.

"Oi . . what are you-", leaves you in a stutter as he slings his arms around your waist, hugging you. The feathers tickle your nose, yet develop you in comforting softness and warmth. To your luck, there aren't alot of 'witnesses', able to judge you and your rather foward lover. Which is quite the surprise, for Rosinante is a usually reserved and tranquil soul.

After a good while, he whispers: "You know, this is how you make me feel." You don't follow, lifting your covered in dark feathered plush head, tilting in query. Thus he proceeds: "My heart. Whenever you try to encourage me, it slips as if it's constantly on ice. The bright smiles, the sugar sweet kisses you give me. I can't help but to fall all over. Again and again."

Oh those amber eyes, brows curling in a puppy dog manner. Mellow lips find yours, him smiling by the touch of your velvet skin on his. You pull on his heart strings, metaphorically and literally, tugging on the rose coloured hearts of his beanie once more.

"You big dork.", you hum, gifting him a set of white shimmering teeth, grinning over both ears. Corazon reciprocates, nuzzling the tip of his nose against yours: "You sweet little thing."

The sun sets - orange hues glazing over the fading blue, to which the snow glistens in flushed colours. Cold looms in the air, every breath taken appearing like fog wading through your mouth.

Christmas is around the corner and you wouldn't have it any other way, than to spend the most beautiful time of the year together with the kindest of hearts in this world.

[sitp-recs]

Happy birthday to the one and only @writcraft! I know you probably feel this year hasn’t been as productive as you’d like fandom-wise, so this is both a reminder and a token of appreciation, a short rec list that hopes to highlight a little bit of your immense contribution to fandom. This is ofc 100% self-indulgent and my picks might be a bit too obvious - I doubt that anyone who’s been around for a while hasn’t heard of these classics before, but those who are new to the fandom (or just new to Writ’s works - I’m so jealous!) might enjoy this “starter pack” with my personal selection of must-reads.

There’s a little bit of everything: Drarry, Snarry, femslash, dark fic, kinky fic, angst with a happy ending, romcom, hurt/comfort. No matter the tone or trope, they’re not only perfectly thought out and executed but they also deliver profound human experiences that resonates within, and thought-provoking explorations of romance, queerness and hope. I have often wondered how Writ could be so prolific over the years, always impressing me with such flawless depth of characterization across different ships. Now I realize this comes from the amount of passion and research they pour into their work. Writ commits to fandom - and to writing - both intellectually and emotionally, bringing together their creative, fannish, militant and intellectual sides like nobody else can do. This combination breathes life and heart into every love story they create, making them all bright and unique, inspiring universal emotions while remaining deeply personal.

Writ, I cannot thank you enough for being such a kind, witty and welcoming friend, always up to discuss fandom meta, gritty fic plots, old and new ship obsessions, dog parenting, queer & pop culture references! I learn so much from you and it’s a privilege (and a delight) to have someone to share both silly and deep, insightful convos with. Becoming friends with you - an author I’ve been admiring and looking up to for so many years now - still feels a bit surreal but it’s easily one of the best parts of 2022/2023 for me. I hope you enjoy your day to the fullest, and have an amazing time celebrating with yours. Happy birthday my friend! 💜

🎵 True Colors (E, 6k) - Harry/Teddy

Teddy spent the last year running away from his feelings for Harry. Now it’s time to come home.

🧵 Independent Love Song (E, 6k) - Ginny/Millie

Millicent Bulstrode is a tailor and Ginny is losing her mind over a woman in a tweed blazer and burgundy brogues.

🪞 Doppelganger (M, 7k) - Drarry, Romione

It was just a silly dare, but one ill-advised trip into the Forbidden Forest changes Harry’s life forever.

🎼 Hopelessly Devoted To You (E, 10k) - Harry/George

Harry and George watch a lot of musicals and accidentally fall in love.

🗞️ Potterzine (E, 11k) - Snarry

When Severus Snape finds a fanzine with a picture of Professor Potter in a compromising position with Draco Malfoy on the cover, he confronts Potter about the offending literature.

🪩 An Aching Soul (M, 14k) - Drarry

Draco Malfoy escapes to the Muggle world to avoid his parents, memories of the war and Harry Potter. However, some things prove harder to escape than others as Draco realises when his favourite Muggle haunt is rudely invaded by a post-war Harry who is struggling to cope with grief, growing up and the battle with his inner demons.

⛓️ Dirty Little Secret (E, 22k) - Drarry

When someone threatens Harry’s life, Kingsley decides to send him to a safe house with only Draco Malfoy for company. As the two men are forced together, memories of the past resurface and secrets are discovered.

🥐 A Life Worth Remembering (E, 23k) - Drarry + Snape

Severus Snape wakes in St Mungo’s, to discover that a potions accident has wiped the last forty years from his body and mind. Just twenty-five years old, Severus is reliant on Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, now both in their forties, to help him fill in the missing decades.

🚘 Harry Potter and The Bisexual Awakening (E, 23k) - Drarry

Harry is perfectly content being single, heterosexual and living in Godric's Hollow with his very clingy rescue dog, Snitch. When Draco Malfoy turns up on Harry's doorstep demanding that Harry teach him how to drive, things quickly become a lot more complicated.

⌛️ Collapse Amongst the Dying Stars (M, 26k) - Drarry

After the final battle nothing is quite as Harry expected. Death Eaters remain unaccounted for, Malfoy is in prison and there is something rotten in Azkaban.

💋 The Beating of This Fragile Heart (E, 33k) - Snarry

After the war, the last thing Severus Snape needs is the memory of a fleeting wartime kiss and a very persistent Harry Potter thwarting his plans to live a peaceful and solitary life.

📸 Expecto Patronum (E, 35k) - Drarry

As Draco Malfoy negotiates his feelings for the wizarding world's brightest star, he becomes increasingly attached to Harry and unravels the secrets he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.

🗽How We Were Warriors (E, 51k) - Snarry

A homophobic attack in London’s Soho brings Harry to New York City to discover more about the past. Still haunted by love and loss in the eighties, Severus just wants to forget.

🥃 The Beauty of Thestrals and Other Unseen Things (E, 63k) - Drarry

Harry has terrific friends, an amazing girlfriend and his job as Head Auror enables him to work on challenging cases and Ministry reform. He just wishes he could work out why he’s been so out of sorts.

🏳️‍🌈 Little Compton Street verse (E, 150k) - Drarry, Sirius/James, Minerva/Will

Draco is lonely, Harry hates the press and it won’t stop raining in London. Harry discovers a magical street that’s close to disappearing forever and Draco realises he’s one rainy night in Soho away from finding everything he’s been searching for.

[swanmaids]

one of your girls

He wants it, and he hates that he wants it, and the fact that he hates himself for it makes him even hotter. Tyelkormo makes himself pretty for his lover. Celegorm/Orome, rated E. on ao3. see ao3 for tags and warnings.

Taking in his reflection in the handheld looking glass, Tyelkormo is almost surprised to recognise himself. The young initiates who dressed him left no detail unthought of; from his unbound, gleaming hair crowned with a wreath of spring flowers to the golden rings on his toes and anklets adorning his bare feet. His clothing is undeniably intended for a woman – a dress of white linen, made to be worn tonight only, grazes the tops of his knees, and beneath it, a thin silken slip covers his nakedness. A garland of thornless roses hangs around his neck, soft against his throat. His mouth and cheeks have been daubed with a pink paint, and heavy earrings jangle softly each time he moves his head. 

Before tonight, he had idly wondered if dressed like this, he might be mistaken for a woman, but it is not so. He is still, clearly, himself – just changed, as though viewed through a different slide of a kaleidoscope. Prettier, one might say, more delicate. He doesn’t know what to think about it. 

It’s not something that he ought to want to be, after all. 

He’s not even entirely sure that he does want it. The whole thing was his idea – high on his new-found freedom from the confines of his father’s exile and his reunion with Oromë, held tightly in thick arms as they lay together on the mossy forest floor coming down from their shared high; the thought had just come into his head then and there. They both knew they had only scant time together – Tyelkormo would return to Formenos, to real life and all its woes, in a matter of days; and he could not say when he would be able to sneak away again. But he was staying for the Feast of the First Hunt, that yearly celebration of the Oromëndili, and when he’d pictured sitting at Oromë’s side as his beloved at the head of the table, some part of him had been unable to resist asking him – what if I made myself pretty for the feast, for you?

It had been a tease, a silly thought whispered in the shared afterglow because he’d wanted to make his lover hot for him again. But then the thought had returned to him, over and over. Himself, adorned as a woman, on Oromë’s arm like a wife. Everything, in other words, that a prince of the Noldor – especially one whose father was so wroth with the Ainur – ought not to be. To even picture it felt forbidden. The thought had sent little tremors all throughout his body – horror, yes, and also something else. 

Tyelkormo has ever been drawn to run towards the forbidden. 

And now, well. Here he is. In his private room in the Temple of Oromë, in flowers and a dress. 

“You look lovely, Tyelkormo,” says an initiate girl. There is no room for titles among the hunt – there is only one Lord here. “Lord Oromë will certainly be pleased.” 

He says nothing, only nods, and setting down the mirror, steps outside. 

~~~~~~

Tyelkormo always feels like he can breathe easier in the woods. The green-tasting air is an effective antidote to the tedium of Father’s exile, and in his freedom he is sure to pay attention to his own breathing, so that he will not take it for granted before he returns. But if he’s honest with himself, it’s not only the change in environment that he appreciates. He needed the space away from his brothers. 

Oh, how upset Father would be to know that he even thought such a thing! (How upset Father would be with everything he’s done and thought since he climbed out of his bedroom window days ago, but he won’t dwell on that).  Even so, however loyal he might be to his family, there is only so much of his brothers in close quarters that he can take. Maitimo’s pacing, Ambarussa’s immaturity, Carnistir’s moping and writing excruciating poetry to his wife back in Alqualondë. And Makalaurë.

Makalaurë infuriates him in a way that’s different to any of his other brothers. It’s this way about him – cheerfully swanning about everywhere  he goes, scarcely dressed, string of flings with who knows how many other men in his wake. His girlish flirtations with Father’s guards, his tearful strops when his latest romance comes to nothing. It makes his skin itch. Makes something inside him flicker with hated recognition – but no. Surely what he has with Oromë is different  – Tyelkormo is nothing like Makalaurë. He doesn’t want to be anything like him. 

His frustration had come to a boil shortly before he’d left Formenos. Makalaurë, lovelorn once more, had taken to shadowing one of Father’s retainers; a brawny, silent lord known as Sataro, making huge sad eyes at him and wearing fewer and fewer articles of clothing whenever they were together. It had been about a week of this, with Sataro surely about to give in to his brother soon, and really it was no worse than Makalaurë had always been; but for some reason when he’d walked into the stables that morning and seen his brother with his delicate hand on the lord’s arm, wearing some poor excuse for a tunic with the neckline almost down to the navel, it had just fucking gnawed at him. 

He hadn’t even really meant to say anything. But the words just came out without his having even thought of them – would you put some fucking clothes on and stop acting like a woman? You’re embarrassing yourself. 

Makalaurë had paused, eyes wide. For a moment, he’d thought he might cry. But he’d given his tight, bitter laugh instead. Embarrassing myself, right. That’s pretty rich, coming from Oromë’s little lapdog. 

And then Sataro had laughed, and by the end of the day the story was halfway around the fortress. 

The Ambarussar caught wind of it, and found a new subject of obsession. Tyelkormo was hardly surprised — in the itchy, brooding enclave that is Formenos, one had to make their own entertainment, after all. And especially in need of entertainment were the pair of runty mummy’s boys half-forgotten by the rest of the family. 

As soon as they were out of Father’s earshot — for not even they were stupid enough to let him hear it — they threw their mocking questions at Tyelkormo like half-hearted bait for an animal.

What did you and your Lord Oromë get up to in those woods, while the rest of us were all cooped up in Aulë’s mansions? 

Did you suck his prick?

Did you bend over for him? Did you let him fuck you?

Do you wish you were sucking his prick right now?

Tyelkormo bit his tongue. He did not rise to it.

But keeping secrets could be hard. Sometimes he thought: what if he just said it? If he were to say: yes, yes I did all of that and more besides. He spent himself in my mouth and across my face. He caned me, bare-assed, until I was red and welted. Once, he put his whole hand inside of me up to the wrist, and wore me like a glove. What say you now?

He isn’t that stupid, though. Exposing what he has with his lord to the pitiless gaze of his brothers would stain it, would make it something dirty and wrong. He keeps it hidden to protect it. It’s a side of himself that only the Hunt, sworn to deepest secrecy, gets to know. And worse: an admission would force him to look at the truth that he never wants to see – that everything he and Oromë have done together is something that he liked, that he wanted, that he asked for. That he might be the type of man who asks for such things. 

Leaving Formenos for the Feast had always been in his plans. His brothers had just… reminded him of why those plans were so necessary. 

~~~~~~

His hands shake a little as he approaches the pavilion. He wishes the shift had pockets, just for somewhere to put them. And his throat feels too dry – he has to keep swallowing. It’s a little ridiculous. Tyelkormo has faced down snarling wild boars armed with only a spear. He has braved the dark and strange rites to be initiated into the Cult of Oromë. He should not be so afraid of simply wearing a dress. Of being seen wearing a dress. 

It’s a relief, if nothing else, to make it to the feast. For all his nerves, the walk seems to take almost no time at all – he’s just suddenly there, no time to back out. Which – he wouldn’t have done, anyway, Turcafinwë Tyelkormo does not turn and run, but still. 

The feasting pavilion stands alone, a smaller, plainer sister to the imposing marble Temple. Thick wooden pillars wound around with carvings of stags and dogs hold up a sloping roof, with benches and tables the only furniture. There are no walls and no floors, so that one can always feel the grass beneath their feet and the forest air on their skin. Tonight, the tables are heavy with game, from morsels of roasted fieldmice to great haunches of deer, accompanied by heaping piles of jewel-coloured fruits blessed by the hand of Vána herself. Huge aurochs horns pass through the hands of the revellers, filled with mead. He cannot see any singer, but a song praising the endless bounties of Aman echoes through the night. 

Tyelkormo is one of the last to arrive. Already seated are most of Oromë’s Elven followers – the greatest hunters among the three kindreds, never numbering more than one hundred. (Irissë has a standing invitation to take the rites and join them, but Tyelkormo knows that she never will – you know me, she’d said when he asked, all that formality and ritual, it’s not really my favourite thing. I’d rather ride alone. He understands, but he cannot agree with her). Then there are the Maiar, the beastlike riders of Oromë mingling with the delicate, fluttering handmaidens of Vána. Vána herself is seated on a carven throne opposite her husband, surrounded by a small crowd of them knelt at her feet; her most beloved who are permitted to hold her hands and stroke her golden hair and more besides. And at the head of the table is Oromë. 

He is resplendent. He always is, but seated before his most devoted like this, Tyelkormo is once again struck with it. With the shape of a man of the Eldar, the eyes of a hart and the teeth of a hound, his appearance is frightening to look upon, and so beautiful that it aches. Tyelkormo feels his heart jump and his cock twitch against his leg. 

At the same moment, the Vala notices him. As their eyes meet, he swallows thickly. What if Oromë doesn’t like it? Whispered talk in the heat of fucking is one thing. The reality might be something else. Perhaps he’ll think that he looks like something out of a mummer’s play, thick muscle contrasted with white frills. Dressed like an untouched woman, when they both know well that he is neither such thing. Or perhaps seeing him like this will simply serve to remind him that he has a wife, one given to him as the world was sung into creation, and that Tyelkormo is no replacement for her. Fuck, perhaps this was a terrible idea after all.

“My Tyelko,” Oromë says, voice reverent as he rises to his feet to greet him, “fairest of them all. You look like radiance itself, tonight.”

Inside his chest, something soars. 

~~~~~

He sits on Oromë’s huge throne beside him, their thighs pressing together. Sooner or later, he’ll be pulled onto his lap. He fills his plate, and starts to eat. 

Oromë takes his free hand in his, smiles at the way the movement makes his bangles clank together. “You’re lovely,” he tells him softly, “always. But tonight – you look like something from a dream.”

Underneath his makeup, Tyelkormo feels his cheeks turning pink. He wants to tell his lover how happy he is to hear it, that he wanted to please him, because he missed him so badly, that he doesn’t want to leave him again even if they both know that he must. But once again he can’t make his useless tongue form the words. Instead, he presses a kiss to Oromë’s cheek, and hopes that he might understand anyway. Oromë turns his face to capture his mouth in a deep kiss as he makes to pull away, and he thinks he must understand at least a little. 

“I wonder what my brothers are doing right now,” he muses inanely afterwards, and then wants to hit himself. Fuck, why is he thinking of his family now? 

“Do you think they know that you’re here?”

“No.” Of this, he is confident. “I told Curufinwë what he ought to tell Father and the others,” – that he was desperate to visit his cousin Angaráto and see his new baby – “but not where I was really going.”

When he’d made Curufinwë repeat the cover story for the third time, his little brother had scowled and asked, am I permitted to know what you’re really abandoning us for? But before he could answer he’d held up a hand and wrinkled his nose. No, actually, I don’t think I want to know. 

What is it about one’s family, Tyelkormo wonders, that grants them the ability to make a man feel so hateful and disgusting with only a few gestures and words? Enough, he decides. He is not among his family now. He will not think of it.

He climbs into his Vala’s lap himself. Oromë adjusts the flower crown and kisses his hair. 

~~~~~~

“I want some more of these,” Tyelkormo says around his mouthful of skewered roast songbird, “can you tell one of them,” he gestures with the skewer at a group of vaguely elf-shaped Maiar sat near a platter of bite-sized meats, “to bring me some more of these?” The mead and Oromë's arms around him are making him feel reckless and wanting.

Oromë smiles against his neck. “You are getting so spoiled, my Tyelkormo.” He holds him closer to his chest, toys with a bit of hair. “But of course. You can have anything you wish for.” Then he calls to the Maiar with his request. 

Lapdog! Makalaurë crows in Tyelkormo’s head. He scowls, and bats his brother’s voice away. 

The skewers arrive then, and they really are very good. 

He knows he’s greedy. A family legend has it that his first word spoken was a shout of more! My hungry baby, his mother would call him as she told the story over and over, I wasn’t enough by myself for you; we had to get you a wet nurse. He understands: he takes from people. Takes more than they can give him. Oromë is the only one who’s ever been able to give him everything. 

It takes a creature capable of raising and destroying mountain ranges to satisfy his wants. That, surely, says something about him. Something that he doesn’t want to look at. 

The great horn of the aurochs begins its circle around the table once more, and soon Tyelkormo holds its smooth weight in his palm again. He meets Oromë’s steady gaze as he raises the point to his lips, lets him see the working of his throat as he swallows down the sweet mead. Oromë’s eyes darken as he does, and he places one bow-calloused hand over Tyelkormo’s own where he holds the horn. Tyelkormo can feel his hardness against him, and he grinds his hips back the smallest amount, just a tease. 

Then Oromë chooses that moment to tighten his grip over his hand, and force the horn further into his mouth. His mouth widens into a red O around the intrusion and he swallows down the mead rapidly, forcing himself not to choke on it. He knows it’s a reminder – you can tease if you like, but don’t forget who has the upper hand here. When Oromë pulls away to allow him air, his pulse is racing and mouth  honey-sticky, and he knows he must be flushed darker than the face paint. And under the skirt, he’s fully hard. All of a sudden, he needs the feast to be over. 

~~~~~

The food is cleared, and they don’t stay for the dancing. 

Instead, Oromë leads him back to the Temple. Together, they go deep into the heart of the stone building, descending down, down, down into the dark of the labyrinth beneath the great halls. 

Tyelkormo remembers the first time he came to this most hidden part of the temple complex – as an initiate himself, hooded and blindfolded and exhausted from days of fasted dancing beforehand, released into the maze to complete the final rite of the Oromëndili, the Chase of Vána. He had been frightened – it was the most all-encompassing darkness he had ever experienced in ever-light Aman, and his footsteps were followed by strange sounds and musics. The labyrinth had felt as though it was not entirely fixed in place – efforts to retrace his steps always came to nothing. Time, too, did not feel entirely right – he was never sure if he had been wandering the maze for hours or days. When he had stumbled upon Oromë’s flighty wife, clasping his hand around her wrist, it was almost by accident. He had begun to despair that he ever would. Does Oromë know how close he had come to failing the rites? Sometimes he wonders.

Now, his unbound eyes and the oil lamps dotted about the maze bathe it in a soothing glow, a gentle contrast to Oromë’s burning tree-lit gaze, trained on him. His lord speaks: “You were a vision out there.”

Here, alone, he can almost say it. “It was for you. Only for you.”

Oromë grips his face in both hands and kisses him, hard. Dizzily, he wonders if his lips will bruise from the force of it. It’s an idea that he strangely likes. As they part, a thin string of spit stretches and hangs between them, shining in the dim glow of the lamps before it breaks.

Then Oromë spins him round and pushes him down in a single movement, so that he’s bent over one of the walls of the maze. Presenting himself, he thinks. The stone of the wall is smooth beneath his fingers as he grips it. 

“Because you’re mine,” he murmurs into his ear, “my Tyelkormo, my lovely one. Just mine.” 

He gasps, spreads his legs wider, nods a little frantically. Probably looks as desperate as he feels. 

There’s no need for him to undress. Oromë flips the dress up, pushes the shift up. Crouches down, parts his cheeks. Spits on his hole. Tyelkormo is so hard that it hurts. But he’s not alone in that – Oromë stands up again and presses himself along his back, letting him feel the full length of his hard prick. He wants it, and he hates that he wants it, and the fact that he hates himself for it makes him even hotter. It’s so much, all at once. 

“Please,” he whispers. 

Oromë pushes two thick, spit-soaked fingers straight through his entrance, and stretches them apart inside of him. They’ve been fucking a lot – a lot – in the days since he returned to Oromë’s side, and every time it’s been easier to take. His body is reshaping itself, clay-like, underneath his lover’s touch. The pads of Oromë’s fingers rub deliberately over that most sensitive place deep within him, drawing out a barely-suppressed whimper and making Tyelkormo push his hips back to fuck himself on his hand, before he pulls them out and replaces them with his cock. 

Tyelkormo doesn’t scream, but it’s a near thing. Oromë’s cock is pretty fucking big, however used to it his body might be, thick and long and feeling like it was fucking made for him, which, actually, it was. It’s so much stretch, so much pressure, and it’s so good. He drops his head down, overwhelmed. Oromë strokes his flank, gentling him. 

Some part of him realises: everybody here at the feast must know what the Lord of the Hunt and his lover have disappeared to do. And everybody must know how it’s happening – that Oromë is the one stood up straight and fucking into him, while he, Tyelkormo, is the one bent double and whimpering for it.  

Part of him wants to curl up tight and small in shameful horror at that thought. And another part thinks – 

Well, let them know. 

He imagines that if he asked, Oromë might invite them all in to enjoy the show; or maybe he’d fuck him to completion and then send him back to the party with his come still dripping down his thighs for everyone to see. 

Oromë’s mouth touches the shell of his ear. His voice a frisson down his spine: “You’re thinking too much.”

“Then,” Tyelkormo manages, only a little breathless, “you ought to fuck me harder.” A bit of goading – Oromë sometimes likes that. I’m greedy, I’m a brat, I’m never satisfied; you need to put me in my place.  

Oromë pulls back a fistful of his hair, makes him whine in pain as his back arches upwards. Lets go, and speeds up his thrusts until he’s pounding into him with a fierceness normally reserved for chasing down his quarry. 

“Like that,” Tyelkormo pants.

“Like that?” Oromë grips his hips tighter, pulls him back against his cock with each thrust. Digs his fingers into his flesh, certain to bruise. “That’s what you want?” 

“Yes!”

Wilder, darker thoughts run through his mind like loosed hounds. Maybe Oromë will put his arm around his throat, push down on his windpipe until he can’t breathe. Whip him bloody. Pull his heart out through his ribcage. Too many thoughts are in his head, not just right now but all the fucking time, conflicting and confusing, chasing and devouring each other, over and over. If only he could beat them out of him.

But then Oromë just stops fucking him. Just stills his hips right when his cock is all the way inside, pressed flush to his body.  “I don’t think it is.” 

“Wuh- what-?”

“You come to me – dressed like that – and you tell me you want me to hurt you? I don’t think so. I think you want me to be nice. I think you want me to treat you like a wife.”

He is struck. He can’t speak. 

Pain, in a way, is easy. He can pretend to himself that he is a captive of the god, that he has no choices here. It's quite possible that that's what the rest of the Hunt believe his place with Oromë to be - not that they wouldn't trade with him in an instant. Tenderness is harder. It means admission: that he is here because he wants to be. That he left his father’s exile and dressed himself in women’s things to please Oromë because he wanted to, that he is half-dressed and being fucked like a woman because he likes it.  That he is really no different to the brother he scorns, and is in fact the worst kind of hypocrite. His eyes sting, and his vision blurs. 

Oromë pulls out all at once, and spins him round. Lifts him up so that his legs are wrapped around him, his back against the wall, and holds him steady by the waist. Positioned like this, Tyelkormo is forced to meet his gaze. An awful tear runs down his face. 

“Tyelkormo?” 

He can’t ask for it with words. He can’t, he can’t. But if Oromë stops now, he’ll – scream. Sob. Die. He doesn’t know. So he screws up his eyes and tries not to think about the tears trickling out faster now, and nods. 

“My dearest love,” Oromë says, and pushes back inside him. He’s still so fucking hard, he realises right then, his own cock rubbing against Oromë’s stomach as he fucks him. And it’s still fast and hard and deep, petals falling from the flowers that he’s wearing with the force of it, but it’s also Oromë kissing his face where he’s crying and calling him pretty and so good. 

“Perfect, Tyelkormo, so fucking perfect for me,” Oromë says right as he’s grinding his cockhead against his prostate, and that’s all it takes for him to come, sobbing out loud and soaking both of their chests in his release. His head is spinning so fast with it that he barely even notices when Oromë reaches his own peak inside of him. 

~~~~~~

He doesn’t want to talk about the crying afterwards, and Oromë doesn’t make him. But they don’t go back to the festivities either – just sit and hold one another in the quiet dark. 

Tyelkormo sighs. “Look at what you make me want to do,” he says abruptly, without thinking. 

“Oh? What’s that, then?”

“Stupid things. Things I can’t do.” Stay here with you. 

Oromë says nothing in response, just tucks him tighter underneath his arm. It’s possible he knows what he means, anyway. 

There is a wild part of him that wants to ask Oromë: keep me here in the heart of the woods with you. Don’t let me leave; hide me away where nobody can find me. That way it wouldn’t really be a betrayal – not if it wasn’t his fault. A silly fantasy, and he lets it go almost as soon as he thinks of it. 

“You’ll be leaving with the morning,” Oromë says, and it isn’t really a question. 

He nods. Aims for lightheartedness. “Can’t have my father sending out search parties.”

“I hope you’ll come back soon,” his lover says in the same carefully airy tone, “I have a gift that I’d like to give you, and it’s - he’s - not really the sort of thing that you can hide from your family.”

“A gift!” He grins suddenly. “Lord of the Forests, are you trying to bribe me to come back to you? That’s not necessary. You know I’ll come and see you as soon as I can. I’ll find a way out even if Father… I don’t know, chains me up in the cellar.”

"If your father locks you in the cellar, you'll drain his wine stores dry and end up in no fit state for any escape attempt."

"Hah! You know me too well."

Oromë smiles ruefully. “Anyway, it's no bribe. A token of my affection, perhaps. A small thing, compared to all you’ve given me, but a gift nonetheless.” 

Tyelkormo touches his face and kisses him gently on the mouth. They talk some more, of frivolous things only: the game at the feast, some gossip about Vána’s handmaidens. But the talk of tokens gives Tyelkormo an idea. 

The dress and slip are surely ruined beyond repair, and he had no plans for after the festivities save perhaps burning them. But, he thinks, he doesn’t have to. He could bundle them up in the bottom of his saddlebags and bring them to Formenos with him, hide them under his mattress. If some meddling servant or brother should find them, he’ll invent a woman. Hopefully, though, they’ll remain his secret. Alone in bed when the fortress is sleeping, he’ll hold the clothes against his skin, and think of tonight and his faraway lover.

[autisticwizardwritings]

Shopping and makeup with Svetlana!!

Requested by one of my friends! :] (sorry if this is kinda OOC, It's my first time writing for her - meant to be seen as platonic, but read it however you like <3) - (also originally written for a younger reader, but I made sure it was readable both ways.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡♡♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Take her to Sephora. PLEASE. She will love you forever.

She’s not really picky when it comes to makeup brands

She’ll use anything that looks nice, but she does have her favourites

(I know nothing about makeup so I can’t really specify brands)

You guys would probably go into H&M too

She’d want to do a little fashion show with you, even if you don’t end up buying anything.

Pick a handful of outfits, show them off to each other <3

She would POSE. And I mean POSE. Dramatic, wonderful poses. Very over the top /pos

WILL ask you to take pictures.

She’ll take pictures of you too!! (If you’re comfortable with that)

She’ll make a collage of all your photos and outfits, making it all pretty and sparkly like a magazine

I don’t think she’s big on mall lunches

Likes the place itself, but not the food.

Probably somewhat of a picky eater

She does like McDonald’s though

Gets you a happy meal if you want one

“Excuse me, they asked for no pickles!” (or with pickles, if you like them.)

Will help you exchange the toy you get if you don’t like it

100% has a collection of the Squishimallows and little bears they used to have a few years ago. 

Like. The ones that had blue, and purple with polka dots, and there was a pink one? She has all of them in a shoebox on a shelf somewhere.

(Will 100% let you play with them btw. And she's playing too. Have a doll house? That's their new home. Don't have one? Making one out of cardboard ASAP)

Definitely gets either strawberry fruitopia, sprite, or iced tea.

Big fan of their soft serve cones

She’ll take you to any stores you wanna go to. May get distracted by shiny things, but she’ll look around a shop you like, even if she isn’t a fan of it. (may complain, but not in a mean way. Just silly little comments)

"Ooh! Now look at this shirt! This would look so wonderful on you. We are getting it!"

DANGLY EARRINGS!!! PLEASE! She LOVES those. Will hold them up to her ears and make them sway back and forth really quickly, Giggling like a maniac. A sweet one, of course. She just gets so excited over them. ESPECIALLY if they’re shiny in the light.

Tbh I don't think they have their ears pierced. I imagine they'd be a little too scared to actually do that, so she probably has clip on ones.

Anyways back to the makeup stuff I got sidetracked

Loves the little sample lipsticks and stuff you can put on your wrist to see the colour

Tries ALL of them

Stop her before their whole arm is covered in different shades of pink and red lipstick

LOVESSS the perfume bottles you can test out. Smells all of them, and tries them on. 

Makeup time!!

Later in the night, or maybe the day after, she'd want to try all sorts of different makeup styles with you

Tries some herself, tries some on you, and has you try some on her!

You have full creative control here! Go wild!

Even if it's messy, she'll love it. Staring at it in one of those little round table mirrors, just kinda admiring your work :)

I think she'd try her best to sit still, and do a pretty good job, but she'd be super excited so maybe a little bit jittery, for lack of better words.

Doing your makeup!!

I think she'd have a really steady hand

Perfect lines, not pressing too hard or too soft, she's just really good at it.

Smiling and telling you how gorgeous you look the whole time

(Friendship goals fr)

"So beautiful. So so beautiful. With and without! Look at you!"

[5am-mist]

Strangers prt2

°pairing°> bella ramsey x reader

°summary°> after a year of no contact you finally see bella again and agree to talk things out.

°requested?°> yess? I mean kinda?

°tw°> slight mention of weight

~°A/N°~

Oki so people in the comments wanted a prt2 so here it is! I used they/them pronouns for bella. I am still busy for these next 2 days but I am opening requests however I will have to work on them when I'm free again! I missed you guys love you and enjoy!

It had been a year. A whole year since you and Bella last spoke, since you and Bella last saw each other in person, since you and Bella had the fight. You used to think it would get easier. That somewhere along the line you'd get over them. It never did though and you never got over them.

The first 2 months were the hardest. Those were the months where social media was flooded with pictures of Bella and Macy. No matter where you went you couldn't escape it. After that though it all went silent. Too silent. There were hardly any photos of Bella at all. Articles had disappeared and Bella hadn't posted anything anywhere.

You couldn't help but get worried about them. You still loved them even though you hated admittingit you knew it was the truth. You'd stay awake all night overthinking every possible situation that could have happened to them. Not long after this an article dropped. It wasn't of Bella but Macy. In the article she stated that Bella was fine and that they were currently on a "break" from their relationship.

You were so happy to hear Bella was okay and you wouldn't admit it but a part of you was happy they were on a 'break'. You felt selfish after awhile, you had never even met Macy how could you hate her? Then again she was the one Bella ignored you for.

It was a Friday evening. Clouds had covered the sky the scent of rain heavy in the air. Days like these were your favorite. You were laying on your bed switching through movies trying to decide on which ones to watch. It was silly, you and Bella used to do this every Friday when they were available. You two would pick the scariest or cheseiest movies only to spend the entire duration laughing and making jokes about it. You missed those days and had ultimately decided to continue the tradition even if you had to do it alone but it was never the same.

Your doorbell interrupted your indecisiveness to which you let out an annoyed sigh. You weren't sure whether you were more upset about; having to answer the door or that you couldn't decide on a movie.

You opened the front door only to be met with the most beautiful brown eyes. Their brown eyes. You were taken aback, you hadn't expected to see them ever again, let alone at your apartment door on this random Friday. You took a good look at them, they had the darkest eye bags, their skin was far more pale than normal and they look like they lost weight. Even then they still looked so beautiful to you.

"Hi." They offered you a weak smile.

"Hi." You didn't know what to say. You hadn't spoken to them in a year. Where did you stand? Silence fell over you two.

"Would you like to come in?" They nodded slightly and walked into the apartment. "I'm sorry for the abrupt visit but i really needed to see you. To talk to you." They sounded desperate and you had to stop yourself from pulling them into a hug. "Ok well what do you need to talk about?" Your voice gentle, you could tell something had happened and gave up on your whole 'I don't care about you anymore' facade.

"I wanted to say I'm so sorry. I was a total jerk but please just give me another chance. I broke up with Macy because I realized she wasn't the one I loved. She was a rebound and it was horrible of me to date her. It wasn't fair on you or on her and I'm sorry. I know I hurt you I understand that but I truly do love you. I can't sleep or eat and all I do all day is worry about you. Hoping you're ok. I shouldn't have let my fear get in the way and ruin our friendship. I understand if you hate me but I can't let this friendship die before telling you I love you." Tears were streaming down their face.

You pulled them into a hug, a tight one. "Bella I could never hate you. You could hurt me a million times over and I'd still love you. You were a jerk yes, and you can't change that but you can make sure you don't do that shit again. Just talk to me okay?" They nodded slowly. They hadn't had a good night's sleep in months and were fighting the erge to fall asleep right there.

"You look like shit by the way, I think you should go shower then we can watch a movie together like old times." You joked. They clearly found you funny even in their current state because they stifled a laugh as the got up and headed towards the bathroom.

You chose the movie while Bella showered, you hadn't picked anything special knowing Bella wouldn't last long at all.

You were just glad to have Bella back. To have your Bella back.