#I don't like to fiddle with things that have a lot of tiny parts in MY room because I have black shag carpeting in here

[crystalkleure]

Fastest way to piss me off is to treat me like a toddler

[antidesire]

your older boyfriend is just soo considerate ♡

disclaimer.. age gap relationship, re6/vendetta leon so 37+, reader is 21+, first part is fluff, other part.. size kink, like a big one, calls reader small/tiny, hint of dacryphilia, he likes taking care of you, it feeds his ego, roughness, spitting, choking, manhandling, this is so self indulgent don’t even talk to me, just jumbled headcanons about size kink w older bf leon

reblogs and feedback are appreciated. requests are open

leon would spend hours upon hours, way into the early morning listening to your worries and woes, how your job was stressing you out, how you are convinced that one professor is failing you on purpose, or how your friends had gone quiet on you suddenly. any little worry he would reassure away alongside a firm kiss on your forehead.

you admired him so very much, if he couldn't see you had the biggest heart eyes for him then he was a fool. every little thing he did, all his silly little habits had your heart bursting at the seams.

he would encourage you over the smallest of things,

oh you learned a neat new hobby? that's great, leon wants to hear every little detail on what it's about and how far you've gotten with it.

you've worked so hard this week? you need a little treat, he's giving you his card for the day.

got out of bed today despite struggling? you're spending the entire night in his arms, you want a massage? head rub? shoulder to cry on? you get it all. you're the most important thing to him.

he'd showed up at your college/university to pick you up early, and it was lunch time so he caught a lot of attention. "leonnn!" you called out ever so sweetly, quickly rushing over to your boyfriend in the parking lot, admiring your cute little outfit you adorned yourself in today, "y'wanna meet some of my friends?"

you had done nothing but gush about this man to all of your friends, and when they finally met him, they understood, they more then understood, some of them were evidently jealous.

you'd never have to lift a finger with him around, he spoiled you rotten.

okay sappy stuff over, i wanna fuck this old man

he's just soo considerate.. ♡

that you don't even realize his presence until he is pressed against your ass, plucking your purposefully placed by him favourite glass down from the top shelf, his other hand swiftly finding place under your shirt, warm fingertips pinching the soft flesh of your hip.

"you're too small, you'll hurt yourself." he'd scold you, lips attaching to your neck, laying fleeting kisses there which got your breath heavy as your hands gripped onto the kitchen counter, feeling him press you further into the appliance.

it was a little humiliating when he’d whisk you into his lap in public, important meetings, fancy dinners, you name it, no matter what, you’re sitting on his lap.

he’d watch you toy with his fingers, fiddle with his rings just to see how small they were against his, would be purposefully pressing you against his hard-on just to watch the way you dig your nails into his palm helplessly.

constantly squishing you against him, towering over you, pinning you to things, against things.

tell him he won’t fit, give him fat tears rolling down your cheek to match and he is talking so sweet to you, “ohh baby, s’okay, i got you sweetheart shh shh, i’ll make it feel so good.”

sometimes even he’d use the excuse that he’s just too big, like there’s no way you’re not getting his fingers fucked into your pussy and ate out before you attempt to take even an inch of him :((

“you’re so tight baby, how many times have i fucked this cute little pussy and you’re still not used to it?” he’d rasp out, dragging out every second of pushing his fat cock into your pussy to set an example.

“needy cunt can’t stop sucking me in, relax sweetheart.” he’d coo in a voice that sounded like pure honey.

the way you could feel the burning stretch every time he pushed his cock in your cunt had your back lurching off of the mattress, he had to push you back down with his hand pressing against your stomach which sent you into a frenzy, seeing the way his fingers sprawled out across your stomach.

bulge kink ♡

when he first saw the outline of him in your fucking tummy it sent him absolutely ballistic, he’d be sweating, dick twitching inside you and saying the crudest nastiest things as his fingers trailed the shape,

“look, look right fucking now-“ he grunted and you’d have to force yourself out of your daze, leaning up on your elbows and seeing what he saw, you’d cum right on the spot, especially when he stuffs himself deeper, he’d be totally pussy whipped, pussy drunk, whatever you wanna call it, he is just crazy for it.

“you feel my that baby? deep inside you? mmh? you make me feel so good, you know that don’t, you angel?” he wouldn’t let up on you unless you gave him a coherent answer.

a lot of bouncing on his knee, pretends not to notice you’re all hot and bothered until you’re eventually rutting against him, begging for his attention with tears in your eyes, sticky underwear, and a puddle of your arousal making his denim even darker.

loves the way you struggle to take his cock down your throat, you always have your hands all over him, throat sore, gagging and spitting to try make it easier- you’re so sloppy and your teeth graze against him a lot but he can’t help but find it endearing, just means he has a lot to teach you.

one day, laying you down to fuck your throat, watching the way his cock slides deeper and deeper, he can see how your throat expands to accommodate for his size.

manhandling you, like a lot, like everywhere, i told you you never have to lift a finger. his strength would make your stomach clench in desperation every time, you’re riding him but he still takes the lead, hips fucking up into you as he pulls your hair, forcing your back to arch so he can toy with your nipples in his mouth.

his entire body engulfing yours as he fucks you into the mattress, arms flexing either side of your head, all you can smell is him, all you can feel is him, everything is about him.

if you ever got too tired from doing such a good job bouncing on his dick he’d let you lay limply against him so he can use you like his own personal cocksleeve ♡

this man fucks you against walls, lifts you up to fuck you, the most uncomfortable positions are just so easy for him- they’re so worth it, he loves nothing more than wrecking your cute little cunt.

always slapping away your hands when you try to initiate anything, thumb playing with your clit before you could even reach down, his hand around your throat before you could even push his hand towards it, fingers stuffed down your throat before your tongue even fully hung out your mouth, spit dripping down your tongue as the two of you made out.

“let me take care of you.”

[gracesimp]

I know

14th doctor x reader

Request/Summary: With the Not-Things, there's a lot of potential for angst and hurt/comfort, etc. Totally fine if you don't want to write this, but I keep imagining a reader companion who has been secretly pining for the doctor and the Not-Thing reveals their love for the Doctor while trying to prove itself and yeah

Wild Blue Yonder Spoilers.

"You don't fool me," The Doctor says bluntly, looking at Y/n with his arms crossed and a grimace on his face. "You're not them, and I'd strongly suggest you stop pretending to be so before this ends badly." He threatens, voice dropped low into an hair-raising whisper.

"But I am! I'm me." They try quickly, tenuous pout on their lips and eyes full of tears. They place a hand to their heart, expression morphed into one of desperation. "Please, I swear! You have to believe me. After everything we've been through, you've got to know that it's me."

Scoffing and standing tall, eyes darkening dangerously, The Doctor shakes his head immediately. "Don't." He spits, taking a step forwards, so brutally it causes Y/n to step back in fear. "Don't you dare."

With eyes ingenuous and lips parted to allow shallow breaths to escape, Y/n responded quietly. "If I'm not me, then how would I know everything I do? How would I remember standing on the edge of civilisations, watching planets burn and being able to do nothing to help. Evil monsters - the ones that gave me this scar, remember?" They struggled, running a trembling finger down the little scar on their neck.

His face remains unimpressed. Blank. Angry.

"And how would I know how in love with you I am?" They whisper, swallowing thickly. "That thing may be able to fake being me, but they would never be able to fake a feeling as strong as that. Never."

It's silent for a moment, but then The Doctor's already dark manner growed into an appearance edging on detrimental. Without fear, he marched towards them, grabbing them harshly and restricting their movement.

A shriek left their lips, panting as they fought to escape his tightening arms. But then, their body fell limp, and they turned their head to look up at the doctor, smirk rising on the corner of their lips. "Got me." They taunt viciously then hissed as they kicked a way out of his grip.

/

Travelling with the Doctor, Y/n had grown accustomed to fear. The way blood would pump faster, the heart would bang harshly against the chest. It felt like it was going to burst out.

A few feet in front, the Doctor and Donna found sanctuary in the tardis. Unfortunately, Y/n was a tad slower. The two of them, Y/n and not!Y/n, exchanged a look before rushing into a full blown sprint.

"it's me!" Not!Y/n yelled as they ran. Arm reaching out, harsh breaths leaving their lips. "I'm me!"

"No, they're not! I'm me!" They corrected before suddenly halting in their sprint, hitting the other's back as they face the Doctor in the tardis.

But the Doctor's eyes never once glanced at the clone. Always, they remained on Y/n.

"I-I don't know how to prove it.." Y/n trailed off quietly before groaning, running a hand down their face. "Oh, gosh! Why can't I think of how to prove I'm me?"

"You don't have to." He answered simply, grabbing their hand and tugging them into the tardis, the doors immediately snapping shut with a bang.

"No!" Not!Y/n screeched as the door closed. They hissed and growled viciously, snarling at the fading spaceship. In a futile attempt to get the ship to stay in place, their nails clawed pathetically at the wooden box, blue chipping off and dirtying under their fingernails. "No!"

/

"That was scary." Y/n began, walking into the console room, freshly showered and in pyjamas, hair damp and eyes tired from the day's events. This captured the Doctor's attention and he immediately looks up from fiddling with buttons and such, a tiny smile instantly forming on his red tinted lips. His cheeks turn a sweet shade of pink at the sight of Y/n in one of his old tops. "I mean, I was starting to doubt that I was even the real me. How can you be so sure that you know I am?"

"I know," He assures quickly, not missing a beat. "and I will always know."

Blinking swiftly and nibbling their lip, Y/n looks down to avoid his eyes as their own cheeks colour, heart beating promptly. "Oh."

"You know," He begins, deserting the button he had been messing around with. "the other you said something interesting."

"Oh? Really? And what was that?" Y/n mumbles softly, rubbing their sleepy eyes and letting out a yawn. Upon seeing this, the Doctor's eyes soften and he grins, walking over to them and cupping their cheeks in his hands.

"Doesn't matter." He responds in a gentle voice, leaning down to press his lips delicately to their forehead. "Go get some sleep, angel. We can talk tomorrow."

As always, not proofread cos I'm lazy 🙈

[amhrosina]

This Feels Like Falling in Love (Billy Russo x f!Reader)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

A/N: Originally, I was going to write this as a Matt fic, but decided it would fit Billy more. Also, I included smut because it's been a hot minute since I wrote any and I missed it!!! I sort of took this lyric prompt as more of a "I don't know how to love you the right way and I need your help to show me how". One of my fav's @messymissy requested this! Thank you!

Request: Haii, could you do comfort/happy fic with the prompt "i was made to keep your body warm, but I'm cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms" it's from Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran. Maybe it could be for Billy or Matt or Frank or even Bucky, it's up to you honestly. Thank you love ❣️

Summary: Billy and you have been best friends for years and must face your feelings for each other one night when you see him with another girl.

(Warnings: cursing, drinking?, best friends to lovers, smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v, Billy gets on his knees and begs for you at one point, jealousy, unresolved feelings, teasing, mutual pining, reader and Billy are both idiots, Frank makes an appearance, non-canon Billy, Billy requests that the heels stay on!!!)

“Do you think this tie makes me look like an idiot?”

You looked up from your phone, watching as Billy fiddled with his tie in the mirror. It was already 10 minutes past the time you were supposed to have left for Anvil’s annual Christmas party, but Billy was nothing if not sharply dressed, and he’d been getting ready for the better part of an hour already.

“You do that all on your own. The tie doesn’t have anything to do with it.” You teased, smiling as he continued to mess up the knot at the base of his throat. You stood, quickly making your way over to him.

“Who’re you trying to impress, anyways? It’s just the Anvil guys.” You murmured, fixing his tie with nimble fingers. You could feel the burn of his stare on you as you focused on the black fabric. You looked up when he didn’t respond, fingers stilling when you caught the heat in his stare.

Billy and you were a complicated pairing. Most people that didn’t know you assumed you were a couple, and you could understand why. The hand holding, the way he’d lead you by the small of your back anytime you went somewhere together, and the fact that when one of you was spotted somewhere, it was pretty much expected that the other wasn’t far behind were just a few of the things that helped people make their assumptions. But you weren’t with Billy, and you never had been.

Billy had been your best friend for years and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a tiny bit attracted to him. Everyone and their mother recognized Billy as a handsome man, and you sometimes found yourself thinking about what Billy might be like as a partner, rather than a friend.

“Who knows? Lots of women come to these parties.” He smirked, startling you out of your thoughts. And just like that, you were reminded why you and Billy had never been a couple. He saw you as his friend, nothing more.

You hummed in response, patting his chest when you finished adjusting his tie.

“Are you ready to go? Or do you need more time to look at yourself in the mirror?” You teased, reaching for your purse.

“Ready when you are, princess.” He responded, holding his elbow out for you to wrap your arm around.

The party was the biggest Anvil party you’d ever attended. People milled about, smiling, drinking, and laughing with each other. The Anvil guys had said their hellos when you walked in, one of them even whistling when he saw the dress you’d picked out for the evening. It was an emerald green off-the-shoulder gown that had a slit up to your mid-thigh. You couldn’t help but giggle at their reactions. They were used to seeing you in either business professional clothing or workout gear, depending on what Billy needed from you for the day.

Technically, Billy was your business partner. You’d invested money in Anvil at the very start of it, right after Billy returned from combat, and you’d already made enough money back from your investment for your grandchildren’s grandchildren to retire and live comfortably, but you let Billy call the shots of the business. He was better at handling business deals, and you preferred to help him out where you could, rather than running any aspect of the business. He consulted you for most things anyway, and Anvil was seeing so much success that you didn’t want to change anything about how the business was run.

When you’d been whistled at, a firm satisfaction had settled in your stomach. Maybe you wanted to impress people too. Maybe you wanted to impress someone specific. Billy hadn’t mentioned the dress when you arrived on his doorstep, which had been a bit of a confidence killer if you were honest with yourself. The idea that you did, in fact, look hot in your dress to other people helped boost your confidence after the disappointing reaction from Billy.

You were huddled against the wall, sipping on champagne as you watched the party happening around you. You tried not to let your focus slip to the other side of the room, where Billy was currently being chatted up by not one, not two, but three women. The shriek of laughter that came from the group drew your attention to him anyways, and you internally groaned as one of the women placed their hand on his arm as she laughed.

You couldn’t even fault the women. Billy was handsome, charming, and funny, and if you had more courage, you would be doing the exact thing they were doing right now. You looked away, focusing on the ridiculously expensive ice sculpture you and Billy had picked out for the party. You suddenly felt like being anywhere but at the party, watching Billy find the woman he was inevitably going to take home for the night.

“You know,” someone chuckled from beside you, “he’s never going to realize what he has right in front of him unless you do something about it.”

You looked over, locking eyes with Frank Castle, who was dressed in a sleek black suit, looking as handsome as ever.

“Hi, Frank.” You smiled. You didn’t see much of Frank these days, but he’d met someone, and you were genuinely glad he’d been able to find happiness after everything he’d been through. “Where’s Karen?”

“She’s somewhere around here.” He shrugged, tilting his head toward Billy. “You ever gonna do anything about that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrugged, taking a rather large sip of champagne.

Frank let out another chuckle, shaking his head. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

“I’m serious, Frank. What Billy does in his free time is none of my concern.” The lie left a bitter taste in your mouth, and you couldn’t help but glance at Billy again. The woman that had touched his arm was standing impossibly close to him, and he was murmuring something in her ear. You gulped, pushing yourself off the wall.

“I need some air.” You breathed.

Frank called after you, concern laced in his voice, but you didn’t stop or turn around. You made your way to the side door, where you knew no one would be milling about, and stepped into the brisk New York air. It was December, and it was freezing, but you didn’t want to wait for one of the hired servers to find your jacket amongst the hundreds of others in the coat room.

You exhaled, watching as your breath fogged in front of you. You usually had a better handle on your feelings. You didn’t know why it was bothering you all the sudden. Billy had always been a ladies’ man. A shiver made its way up your back, and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Christ,” you murmured to yourself, “It really is cold.”

The sound of the door swinging open startled you. You let out a yelp, stepping away from the door.

“Jesus,” Billy cringed as he stepped into the alley, “Where’s your jacket? It’s freezing.”

“I-” You started, confused at his sudden appearance. “I forgot it inside.”

He shrugged out of his suit jacket, quickly wrapping it around your shoulders. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms, trying to warm you up.

“Why are you out here?” You questioned, basking in the warmth of his jacket. It smelled like him, a rough mixture of oak and musk with a hint of spice in the undertones.

“I saw you leave and wanted to know what was bothering you. Then Frank shoved me out the door and called me a ‘fucking idiot’.” He replied, shrugging in confusion. “You know anything about that?”

This was your opening. You could finally do something about the feelings you’d been harboring for years. You could finally tell him that you had loved him since the day you met him. It could finally become more than it was. This was the opening you’d been waiting for. But you’d always been a coward when it came to Billy.

You shook your head. “I have no idea. I’m fine.”

Billy tilted his head, eyeing your figure in the dark. You tried to push past him, reaching for the door to return to the party, but he clamped his hand around your arm, pulling your shoulder into his chest. He murmured your name in a knowing tone.

You were terrified to look up at him and see the rejection written on his face. This would change everything, and you couldn’t bear the thought of losing Billy over something as silly as feelings.

“It’s fine. You should go back in. I’m sure that girl is waiting for you.” You couldn’t keep the bite out of your tone. The bitterness was too tempting, and you suddenly wanted him to feel bad about all the women he’d paraded around you over the years.

“Are you jealous? Is that what this is about?” He asked, amused.

“Why would I be jealous?” You asked, finally meeting his gaze.

“I don’t know.” He murmured your name, cupping your cheeks in his hand. “Why would you be jealous?”

He was giving you another opening, that was obvious. But this time, his eyes were full of warmth and care, and you couldn’t help the words from tumbling out of your mouth.

“Because I’m in love with you, obviously. I’m working on it. Don’t freak out. It doesn’t change anything.”

You tried to push past him again, but the grip he had on your face didn’t falter.

“Look at me. Does it look like I’m freaking out?” He asked.

It didn’t. He looked calm and collected, and cold, maybe.

“No.” You replied, curiosity clear in your voice. “Why aren’t you freaking out?”

He chuckled, shaking his head before resting his forehead against yours. “Because I’ve waited my entire life to hear those words from you. Because I was too much of a coward to do anything about it. Because I love you too, and I’m so incredibly happy right now.”

You gripped his shirt, bunching the fabric in your fists, before shoving yourself out of his hold.

“What?” You cried, resting your head in your hands. “What do you mean?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, watching as you paced in front of him. This was not the reaction you had been expecting, and now you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Why hadn’t he said anything?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You dropped your hands, clenching your fists and glaring at him.

He smiled and looked towards the sky, shaking his head again.

“Because I didn’t want to lose you. Because I was scared.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never been in love with someone. I don’t know how to be someone’s boyfriend, and I certainly don’t know how to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

You stopped pacing and turned to look at him. “What about all the girls? And the flirting? And the dates?”

“Futile attempts to get over my feelings for you. It never worked. I fall more in love with you every day.”

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands again.

“We’re both fucking idiots.” You mumbled.

He chuckled, stepping closer to you. He rested his hands on yours, gently prying your fingers away from your face.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, cradling your cheeks in his warm hands.

“Please.” You nodded.

He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. It started slow and sweet, but quickly turned into a searing, heated kiss. He pulled you fully against him, shoving his tongue in your mouth. You groaned and wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into the warmth radiating off his body. His hands made their way down your body, roaming across your back and along the curve of your hips.

He pushed you back, following you as you leaned against the side of the building. He gripped your bottom lip in his teeth, lightly tugging on it. His grip on your waist tightened as you let out a soft moan.

“Fuck, baby.” He mumbled against your lips. “I’ve wanted to do this for years.”

He left a trail of kisses along your jaw, pressing his lips against your neck. You groaned, lifting your chin to give him more access. Your pulse had skyrocketed, and you couldn’t help the sultry tone in your voice when you finally spoke.

“Wanna get out of here?”

He lifted his head from your neck, kissing your jawline again.

“Do you?” He questioned, running his hands along your waist. He pressed himself against you, and the friction of his pants against your most sensitive part had you moaning louder than you meant to.

“God, yes.” You rested your head against the brick, panting.

“Let’s go, baby.” He gripped your hand, pulling you back into the building. The warmth was a welcome reprieve from the icy outdoor temperature, and you very nearly moaned as it fully encompassed you.

He swiftly led you through the party, barely glancing at the people who tried to talk to him. You tried not to giggle as you were pulled past the girl Billy had been talking to earlier. You weren’t typically the vindictive type, but you had finally won what you’d been pining after for years, so the smile that crept on your face when her eyes caught his hand in yours wasn’t entirely a conscious choice.

You spied Frank across the room, who was lightly running his hand along Karen’s waist. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him, and he lifted his drink in response, smiling.

Billy found your jacket in the coat room, shoving his arms into his jacket when you shrugged it off your shoulders and returned it to him. He wrapped his hand around yours again, tugging you out the front door and into a cab.

He couldn’t keep his hands off you, running one of them up your exposed thigh while the other caressed your cheek. He pressed chaste kisses to your shoulder, throat, and jaw, and you did your best not to moan in the back of the taxi that was hurdling towards his apartment.

When the cab finally stopped, Billy threw a hundred-dollar bill in the driver’s direction, swinging the door open and pulling you through it. He pulled you against him, capturing your lips in another heated kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, hands resting on the small of your back.

“Billy.” You mumbled against his lips. “It’s freezing.”

He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Sorry. I just can’t believe this isn’t a dream.”

“You dream about me often, Russo?” You asked, resting your arms on his shoulders.

“Every night since the night I met you.” He responded, smiling.

He led you to the elevators that would take you up to his apartment. You’d been in this elevator a million times, but you’d never had Billy’s lips attached to yours while riding in it before. When you finally made it to his front door, he groaned as he pulled his lips away from yours, quickly unlocking the door and pulling you inside.

You pushed the door shut behind you as he slammed his mouth into yours, chunking his keys over his shoulder. The keys skittered across the floor, and you didn’t care that you’d probably spend hours with Billy trying to find them tomorrow. You ran your hands up his chest and onto his shoulders, pushing his jacket off his shoulders. He shrugged it off, letting it drop to the floor.

He pulled you off the door, walking backwards towards his bedroom, all the while keeping his lips attached to yours. He couldn’t get enough of you, and you wanted to drown in his kisses.

When he brushed up against his bed, he swung you around, gently pushing you onto the mattress. You plopped down, opening your eyes to fully look at him. He was panting, looking over you with soft, lustful eyes. You laid back, resting on your elbows as he slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt.

He discarded his shirt, dropping it to the floor behind him, and finally locked eyes with you. You were a sight to behold, lips swollen, and cheeks flushed. He groaned, dropping to his knees in front of you, and you gasped as he ran his hands up your legs, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He mumbled, “Anything you want. I’ll give it to you.”

“Anything?” You quirked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He nodded, leaving an open-mouthed kiss higher on your leg. “Anything.”

“Even Anvil?” You teased, yelping when he lightly bit your inner thigh.

“Is that what you want?” He smiled, soothing the bite with a soft kiss. “Want to be the CEO? I’ll put you in the chair, baby, but I don’t think you’d like it.”

“No.” You giggled. “I know I wouldn’t like that.”

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He murmured, ghosting his lips over the tip of the slit in your dress.

“Want your mouth, Bil.”

He let out a throaty groan, resting his forehead against your hip.

“This fucking dress.” He bunched the fabric in his fists. “This fucking dress.”

“You like my dress?” You asked, breathing in as he began to wiggle his fingers under the fabric, higher and higher until he reached the sides of your underwear. His fingers wrapped around the tiny strings, and he inhaled sharply as he looked up at you.

“I love your dress.” He groaned. “Every time I saw you tonight, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. You look stunning. When that douche whistled at you earlier, I wanted to break his fucking jaw.”

You grinned at his confession. “No need to break anyone’s jaw, Bil. I’m yours.”

He responded with a quick tug, pulling your underwear down your legs, and throwing it across the room. You spread your legs for him as he shoved his arms under your thighs, resting your legs on his shoulders. He bunched your dress around your waist, giving him full access to your pussy.

He didn’t waste any more time, flattening his tongue against your clit as he licked inbetween your folds.

“Oh, fuck.” You fell back, arching your back.

He masterfully circled his tongue around your clit, drawing you closer and closer to completion. He ran his tongue up your slit, sucking and licking in all the right places, and you couldn’t stop the whines coming from your throat. He was so good at it.

“Please, Billy. Don’t stop!” You gasped, arching your back further. He pressed his hands against your stomach, keeping you right where he wanted you. Heat built up in your core, spreading throughout your body. Your breath quickened and you couldn’t help the loud moan that you let out as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. Billy let out a throaty moan against your clit, and it sent you over the edge.

Your orgasm crashed through you, and you arched against the bed. Billy continued to lick your clit as you let out a loud moan. You saw white and couldn’t feel anything but the heat of his mouth on you as you breathed through the orgasm. When you finally shoved Billy’s mouth away from your core, your ears were ringing, and your brain hadn’t begun functioning again.

Billy crawled up your body, pressing kisses on your chest and jaw as he hovered over you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, chuckling at your dazed expression.

“I’m more than okay.” You breathed, resting your hands on his shoulders. “How are you so good at that? Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

He chuckled, kissing your cheek, and then pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, comforting motion.

“As much as I love this dress,” he started, thrusting himself up against you so you could feel the impact the dress had on him, “I think I’d love it on my floor even more.”

You whined when you felt how hard he was, and suddenly, taking your dress off became the most important thing you’d ever had the pleasure of doing for him. He reached underneath you, unclasping the top of the dress and slowly pulling the zipper down until it reached your lower back.

You shrugged your arms out of the sleeves, allowing the fabric to fall forward until your breasts were fully exposed. Billy grunted, running his hands down the skin of your torso until they met what was left of the dress bunched around your waist. He lifted your hips in a rough motion, pushing the dress down your body until you could kick it off.

You reached down to unbuckle the heels you were wearing when Billy’s hand covered yours, pulling it into his chest.

“Leave them on.” He murmured, shoving his lips against yours in a heated kiss.

His hands wound their way up your body again, stopping to squeeze your breasts before he rolled his body against yours. You let out a whine, reaching for his belt buckle.

“These need to go. Now.” You muttered, unbuttoning his pants, and shoving them down his legs.

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled, pushing the remainder of his clothing off his body. You were both fully bare, minus your heels, pressed up against each other, and you didn’t think you could take another second of waiting for him to thrust into you.

Billy had shifted his focus to your breasts, wrapping his lips around your nipple. He teased it with a lick, and you let out a frustrated groan.

“Something wrong, princess?” He teased, eyes flicking up to yours.

“Billy,” you whined, “I want you to fuck me. Please. Please.”

You were begging, but you didn’t care. You’d waited long enough to be this close to him and you were dying for him to be inside of you. His gaze instantly darkened, and he nodded, shifting his body so that he was lined up with your entrance.

“You’re sure you want to do this, right?” He asked, suddenly worried that he’d taken advantage of your vulnerability in the alley earlier.

“I’ve never been surer of anything, Bil.” You murmured, opening your legs wider.

He sank into you, grunting when he finally bottomed out. The bliss on your face was enough to remind him that he needed to move. He slowly began thrusting, motivated by your soft mewls in his ear.

“I’ve dreamt about this.” He groaned. “I’ve been waiting my entire life for you.”

“Fuck, Bil. You’re gonna make me cry.” You breathed, capturing his lips in yours. He pushed into you harder, and you let out a stunted moan in return.

“It’s true.” He murmured your name, picking up the pace of his thrusts. You couldn’t form a coherent response, punch-drunk on the feeling of him. “I love you.”

Heat began to build in your core for the second time that night, and soon Billy was pounding into you, mumbling sweet nothings in your ear as you came apart around him. The groan Billy let out when he felt you fluttering around him was downright sinful, and you moaned so loudly you were sure the party back at Anvil heard you.

Billy’s thrusts became sloppy, and you knew he was close. You captured his lips in a sweet kiss, and his pace faltered as his grip on you tightened.

“I love you more, Bil.” You mumbled against his lips. Your words un-did any semblance of control he had over himself, and he roughly kissed you as he came deep inside of you. You moaned with him, relishing the feeling of being filled by him. He pressed his forehead against your chest, panting as he came down from his high.

You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing his shoulder. When he was finally able to function again, he lifted his head and brought his lips to yours. He kissed you for what felt like hours, and you welcomed every second of it. He was finally yours, and you planned on spending the rest of your life kissing him every chance you got.

He slightly pulled away, looking down at you. “Was that okay?” He asked, nuzzling his nose against yours. He was still buried deep inside of you, and you could feel yourself beginning to leak around him.

“More than okay. I loved it. I love you.”

“I love you.” He mumbled, kissing you again.

You shivered with oversensitivity when he pulled out of you. The entire night felt like a dream, and you were terrified that you’d wake up tomorrow and find out it had all been in your head. Billy pulled you against him, cradling your head against his chest. No, you thought, you couldn’t possibly be dreaming the warmth you felt when he held you.

“You’re going to have to help me.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“What do you mean?” You asked, nuzzling your head into his chest.

“I’m terrified that I’m going to ruin this. I’ve never had a successful relationship, and this one feels like the most important thing I’ve ever done.” He confessed as his fingers trailed over your back.

“You’re not going to ruin anything, Bil. Relationships are tough, but we’ll get through anything that comes our way, okay? That’s what you do when you love someone.”

“What if I don’t love you the right way?” He asked, cradling you closer to him.

“You already have, Bil.”

“I swear I’m dreaming right now.” His chuckle reverberates through his chest.

“Want me to pinch you?” You asked, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“No,” he shook his head, “If I’m dreaming, I want to stay here forever.”

Your grin shifts into a soft smile, and you press a long kiss to his cheek. “Okay.” You murmured, closing your eyes. You drifted, lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat. It would be hours before Billy was settled enough to sleep, but he didn’t dare move. He watched you sleeping peacefully against him, unable to comprehend how the night ended with you in his bed. He’d finally gotten the girl, and he was terrified, but your sweet reassurances had put those insecurities to bed for now. When he finally drifted off to sleep, he prayed for the first time in his life to wake up the next day, wrapped in your arms.

Tag List:

@purple-amaranthe @raajali3 @emiemiemiii @messymissy @mossexe @fictional-hooman @oeuryale @violet-19999 @quackson03 @husherstan @deliciousfestsalad @dumb-fawkin-bitch @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @chiaraxtargaryen @lilyevans1 @22carolina08 @km-ffluv @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @imagineadream

[melancholicbutterflies]

a Papa Bear story

♡ PART IV ♡

Characters: Reader, Elvis Presley, Momma, Macy, Tommy, Danny, Mary

Summary: You get asked out on a double date with Macy.

Tags/Warnings: controlling!elvis, subtle themes of domestic violence

Word Count: 2,858

IT ALL HAPPENED so fast. You, Macy, Tommy, and Danny were talking one day after class, and Tommy had the bold idea to go on a double date. Him and Macy, you and Danny. Since the few weeks you'd seen each other at the Mall, you couldn't deny you were hoping something else would come out of it, but you never imagined it would happen so quickly, and the word date would be thrown around! Macy accepted on both of your behalf, and the matter was settled. Next Saturday you'd all go mini golfing and then to a diner afterwards. It would have been perfect if there weren't one not so tiny issue to deal with: you'd have to run the plan by your daddy first, who'd no doubt shut the whole thing down before you could say 'Jack Robinson'.

You waited on the ledge outside school for your momma to pick you up to go home. She was a little late getting there, but it gave you ample time to come up with some ideas to get your way. "Hey Momma," you greeted her, getting into the front seat.

"Hey, baby. What's got you so happy today?"

"Well, I got some good news."

"Good news? What's that?" She pulled away from the curb, glancing at you in curiosity.

"I got asked out. Well, not just me, but my friend Macy, too."

"A double date?" Momma whistled, "that's nice, dear. Your first one, right?"

"Yeah!"

"I'm real happy for you, baby. Not sure how your Daddy's gonna take it, though."

"Yeah..." You said quieter, fiddling with your hands on your skirt. "Actually, about that—"

"Oh no," she shook her head, interrupting you. "I'm not keeping this from him. He'll tan both our hides!"

"Well, no, not keep, per se, just if you could tell him real gently. Maybe he'd take it better from you. I... I really want this, and, and, he has a way of flying off the handle sometimes."

"Don't I know it. Listen, I'll break the news to him slow and gentle-like. I have my ways," she winked back at you. You had no idea what that meant, but you recalled the way he'd come out of their shared bedroom in a better mood than when he went in and figured it had something to do with that. Maybe your momma was magical. You wished she'd share it with you!

Later at dinner, which Elvis was able to be there for after getting a few days off from touring, your momma took over from Mary, the housekeeper, to serve him one of his favorite meals of all time, fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy. She did have Mary prepare a coconut cake, however, which would be served with dessert. Elvis slapped his hands together as he sat at the head of the table, grinning down as he was scooped his dish.

"Now this is a welcome home, honey," he smacked your momma's hide, although gently, causing her to blush as she went around to serve you, and then finally herself before sitting opposite Elvis at the other end. You sat adjacent to both of them. After saying grace, you all dug in; you were kicking your legs as you took in your first few bites. Your momma had surely outdone herself!

"Damn, oughta leave for longer next time," your step daddy groaned, eyes closing momentarily as he savored each bite. You pulled your fork away from your mouth which had some chicken pierced on it. "Don't say that, Daddy. I love having you home. We both do."

He turned to look at you fondly, holding your other hand under the table. "Oh, honey bee, I miss y'all too. I hate being on the road so long. It's real lonesome. And a helluva a lot worse on my stomach, too!"

You giggled, but out of the corner of your eye you saw your momma pinch her nose some. She always did that when she disagreed with something. Whatever it was, she decided to keep it to herself, and you figured it had to do with wanting to keep Elvis content when she broke the news.

"You slave away all day on this?" He asked. "No, not all day, but it passed the time. Was nice getting back into cooking again," your momma replied. Since you both came to Graceland to live with Elvis, he'd had his staff stay on and continue their jobs. Mary was in charge of cooking and other household affairs, and she took it very seriously. There was hardly a day your momma was allowed to cook, and while at first she loved the change of pace, she now missed the more mundane tasks.

"Well, if I didn't know any better I'd think you used my own Momma's recipe. She used to make this for me all the time back in the day." You of course had never known Gladys, but you heard so many good things about the woman. The way your daddy spoke of her she was practically a saint in his eyes.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it so much, dear."

"Mhm. Say, how was your day, darlin'?" He spoke to you first, eying you up as he kept shoveling food into his mouth. Your daddy sure could eat; as such he got the biggest plate, and he always finished what was put in front of him.

"It was good..." You said, glancing at your lap. "Yeah?" He hummed. "What was good about it?" You glanced at your mother in a way you thought was surreptitious, but only got your daddy's hackles up. "What was good about it, doll?" He pressed, now too glancing at momma.

"I'll tell you later, dear." Momma said as you too spoke: "I'm a bit tired," and that was a mistake, because Elvis stopped eating. Which was never a good sign.

"What happened?" He repeated. "Someone gon' tell me?"

There was an awkward pause, so quiet you could hear someone out mowing the many lawns of Graceland mansion. "Well?" Daddy's voice started to get testier. You figured it was better to be out with it; he was impatient and stubborn as a mule. He'd all too happily wait you out and be worser for it.

Momma spoke first: "Well, dear, Y/N here got asked out on a date. A double date," she emphasized, "so don't go blowin' anything out of proportion."

"Who said anythin' about blowin' anything out of proportion?" He said, strangely calm.

Momma opened her mouth, then closed it, choosing her words carefully as she too sat down her fork. "Well, you know, honey, I love you, but sometimes you can overreact—"

"Overreact? I'm perfectly able to hold my damn temper," he bit out the words, fist clenching around his napkin. It was utterly ironic, and you couldn't help the giggle that slipped from your mouth, much to momma's widened eyes.

Your daddy's head shifted to you so fast he might've gotten whiplash. "And you, lil' girl, what have you got to say for yourself? Huh? And what's so goddamn funny?!"

"Nothing."

"Yeah, don't sound like nothin'. Who is this boy, anyhow? Ain't I tell you to stay away from 'em? Didn't you promise me?"

"Elvis!" Your momma cried. "Now why would you tell her a thing like that—?"

"Shut your mouth, woman, I'm talkin'. Y/N, you're testin' my patience, speak up!"

Your good mood evaporated at his cold tone, and you saw your momma felt similarly hurt. He hadn't ever yelled at her from what you'd heard, and it wasn't something your real daddy ever did, so it frightened you some. You didn't ever think Elvis would lay a hand on you or momma, but his booming voice shook you to your core. You knew his mood could turn on a dime.

"Uh... U-um..."

"What," he said it like 'wot', his southern twang coming out more in his anger. "Out with it!"

"You're scaring the poor girl," Momma interrupted again, quickly silenced by a glare cut her way.

"H-he's just a boy from school. We're in the same grade together."

"Gimme a name."

"Danny," you whispered.

He stroked his chin, which was developing a five-o'clock shadow. "And how'd ya... hatch this lil' plan o' yours?" He sneered.

"Well, it wasn't really me—"

"Don't lie to me, hunny, you're already on thin ice!"

"I'm not," and you looked him in the eye as you said this. "It was another boy—"

"Another boy? How many boys you been talkin' too?!"

"Oh, Elvis, let the girl speak!"

"Didn't I tell you—"

"Enough!" You shouted. Both of your parents looked at you as if you'd gone crazy. Maybe you had. But you didn't like this! Your daddy had only barely come home and he was already ruining everything!

"Y/N," Momma cried in shock as Elvis went, "Oh, you're in for it now, Y/N Presley!" And you believed him, because he rarely used your name, preferring a term of endearment, and he never, ever used your full name. But all your feelings caught up to you then: you were angry he didn't understand you, and sad that he was being so mean to you and momma, and that he'd probably ruin this shot at happiness for you when you didn't even get to experience it. It was all just so unfair!

"Lil' girl, don't you dare run away from me!" Elvis warned, but you had already taken off, getting a head start that allowed you to climb the stairs faster and slip into your bedroom, shutting the door and locking it behind you. This was another one of your daddy's rules you'd broken: leave your door open, so that he can check on you. You imagined locking it was the equivalent of all hell breaking loose. At this point you didn't care, and besides, daddy was already so furious with you, so what was one more nail in the coffin?

You heard the doorknob jerking from left to right as you laid in bed with the covers over your head, sobbing. Faintly you heard your step daddy order you to 'open this door right now, or else!' You kept shouting 'no' and cried louder. Finally, Elvis seemed to give up, for it grew real quiet and the shadow under the door disappeared. You cried yourself to sleep that night, hugging your big bear to you that Elvis had won at a county fair one summer. It was your favorite bear, and even if you were angry at its owner, it made you calm down enough to fall asleep.

The next morning you slept in, wanting to delay the inevitable as long as you possibly could. Finally, the smell of pancakes and bacon roused you from your bedroom; your stomach was gurgling loudly from not having gone to bed early without finishing dinner. And you knew Mary made the best breakfast in town.

As you crept downstairs, rubbing your eyes, you heard your parents talking in hushed tones, heads bent towards each other. They lifted as they caught you coming around the corner. "Look who's up," your momma said, smiling tiredly. "How'd you sleep?"

Your eyes flit to Elvis, who looked not at all like himself. For one thing, he usually slept in later then you, so even half past eleven was early for him. But more than that, he looked defeated and continued to distance himself from you. You'd hoped he'd calmed down since last night, maybe even come around some. At least he wasn't yelling at you or momma anymore.

"Y/N?" Momma tried again to get your attention.

"Oh, quit you're worryin'. The girl looks fine ta me," Elvis muttered. "Certainly took her time comin' down here. Ain't realize we were such horrible company to keep. "

Momma frowned at him, sighing. "Oh, dear, don't be that way." She'd never say so, but she was starting to feel like there were two children she had to take care of in this household.

"And what way am I bein'?" He groused. She didn't bother answering, knowing it wasn't a fight he'd ever let her win. "I'm goin' back upstairs. Didn't sleep a wink last night."

"But you've barely eaten!"

"I lost my appetite," he bit out, striding past you, monogramed bathrobe whipping past him, stirring some air around you in his hasty departure.

You felt real awful, felt some tears accumulating at the corner of your eyes; you hated to see your daddy so upset with you, and it didn't look like it was anything you could do about it. He'd just have to cooldown. You worried you might have lost your close relationship with him in the process, though. Momma quickly came to comfort you, "Oh, don't cry, baby. Your daddy's just... havin' a hard time comin' around to the fact that you're growing up is all."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. He just needs some time alone right now." She looked at you. "For some reason he's got it set in his mind that you shouldn't be around boys. Said it wasn't proper, and was insisting on maintaing your purity."

"Purity?" You questioned.

"It's got to do with his religious habits, I 'spose. Anyway, I said that's not right to shelter a growing girl like that, she'd only resent him for it and be even more curious to seek out that attention from boys in ways that are even worse. Hell, it's what I did. Your grammy didn't even want me going to school with other kids and decided to homeschool me."

"Really? I didn't know that momma." She nodded. "Over time it caused a rift between us, and it wasn't until I was on my own for several years that we repaired it and I saw where she was comin' from, although I still didn't entirely agree with the way she went about it."

"Still," she went on. "Maybe I shouldn't a' said that, because he got himself all wrapped around the axel again at the idea of you following after me in that way and he went and spoiled his breakfast." She shook her head, laughing a bit. "Live and learn, I guess."

This was a lot of information for you to take in. "What should I do?" You asked pleadingly. "I hate to have daddy so upset with me. We never fight like this..."

"Just give him time," she reminded you. "And for God's sake, don't let this delicious breakfast go to waste!"

Later that day, Daddy was sitting out on the lawn tanning, reading a book. It had an angel on the front and you figured it had to be another one of his religious ones. He was always reading them. "Hey Daddy, can I talk to you?"

He didn't immediately do or say anything, and you thought he was now giving you the silent treatment, but finally he laid his book flat on his chest, peering over at you with a raised brow. "I'm listenin'," he said.

You shuffled back and forth on your feet as you tried to think of what to say to move past this rift between you two. You didn't want to give up your burgeoning freedom, but it was worse having him stay mad at you like this; you just couldn't bear it any longer.

"'M sorry for hurting you like I did last night. It was all so new and... and, I didn't even know what I was really saying yes to. I just wanted to fit in but none of that matters if I don't have my daddy anymore."

Some of what you said might've been the right thing, for he opened his arms wide to fold you into his embrace. "You have me, honey bee, you have me. But thank you for sayin' that, baby. I hate fightin' too, and I missed ya somethin' real awful. You know we ain't ever gone to bed mad? And I don't wanna start now." He began peppering you with kisses to your cheek and forehead, no longer held back. It made your heart sing to be close again with your daddy; when he was sweet like this to you there was no one that made you happier on earth.

"But ya gotta understand why I was so angry with you, pumpkin. Ya know that, right?"

You picked at his shirt where the buttons lay open on his big hairy chest. "Yeah, daddy, I know."

"I need to hear you say it, darlin'." He picked up your chin to look him in the eye with his forefinger.

"It's 'cause I disobeyed you."

"And how did you disobey me, hunny?"

"I agreed to go on a date with a boy."

"That's right, baby." He kissed you some more, real sweet-like. "Why's that wrong?"

"Because...because they're trouble and I'm a special girl, and you don't want nothin' bad to happen to me."

He hummed, looking like a weight was lifted off him. "That's right, satnin. My special, innocent little girl." He patted my hair with a smile so wide it made my heart hurt.

taglist:@everythingelvispresley@dkayfixates@animalloverthingsss@suspiciousmindsxo@iloveelvis@18lkpeters@doll-elvis@ccab@elvisalltheway1@satninroses@darkmoviesquotespizza@jaqueline19997@louisejoy86@myradiaz@velvetelvis@sillybookmarks@alllriseabove@livelaughelvis @blog777e @kissforvoid @lillyrob @whatstruthgottodowithit @ashtag6887

[gilverrwrites]

Just imagining our dearest Reader being so hooked onto Sionis's cock. His most favorite plaything doesn't care where he do it with them or how he do it. Whichever holes of his choosing, and they can't have enough of him you know. The feel of him inside of them or the taste of him as he fucks them beyond stupid, and ruins them as they wish. So utterly addicted to this horrible, sick bastard and always wanting more and more. Even humping him like his own goddamned pet until he gives you what he wants. Always desperate to please him ...

While he parades them around in provocative dresses, and a tight choker with his name on it. Feeling them up in public, and having his way whenever. Just the Reader calls him Daddy, even in front of company and always rubbing that godawful fucking ego of his.

Fr, to be Romans' favourite little free-use plaything, not a thought in that pretty little head of yours that he didn't put there, so obedient and needy, desperate to please him if it means getting just a tiny taste of his cock, yes, please!

I've been thinking a lot about Janus Cosmetics CEO Roman. Specifically about him convincing you, his new assistant/soon-to-be plaything to wear a dress he’s picked out for you to the after-party of a big product launch. One of those sheer, sparkly diamanted dresses, a skimpy little skin-coloured thong, a matching JC necklace and a pair of heels. Nothing left to the imagination, and all night he's got his hand on you.

This is your first time at such a big social event after all. Assistant is just a stepping stone, you wanna make it in this industry, right? Who better to show you the ropes than Mr Sionis? Don't worry, he’ll make sure all the big shots know your name, and what a firecracker you are.

You're nervous? Don't be! Here have a drink? It’ll make you feel better, I swear. No? Maybe another will help.

Oh and the best part? Well, the paps just loved you and that gorgeous, one-of-a-kind dress. You’ll be all over the glossies tomorrow, doll. Bet your family is gonna be so proud!

I also had this idea that he would nickname you bunny affectionately, because you’d forgotten to take off your bunny-eared woolly hat at the beginning of your interview.

On your first day he gifts you one of those fuzzy keyrings that looks like a bunny tail, but before you can even touch it he clips it onto the belt loop at the back of your skirt/trousers. You think he's trying to be cute, and you don't want to upset your new boss so you keep it there. Clipping it as close as you can each day and forgetting about it.

When you first try on the dress you're all hesitatant, for obvious reasons but Roman reassures you; you're beautiful, don't worry, its not that revealing, and it’ll be dark. Do a spin for me? God, it would be a crime not to take you out in this thing.

But it is missing something. You've no idea what he means until you catch him fiddling with the clothes you'd switched out of.

“Oh, yeah. I don't think there's anywhere to put it.”

Nonsense! Before you even realise what he's doing he hooks his hand into the slit of the skirt, pulling it up to expose your ass and clipping your makeshift tail to your thong.

Now you're perfect.

[abloomingperiod]

home | min yoongi

you can hear the urgent noises of the city outside of your windows along with the faint noise of the last raindrops slowly falling - unlike your own, which seems to only fasten their pace.

if it wasn’t for his arms embracing your figure, you swear you could slide down the floor like a puddle of recently melted ice.

“i-i… i don’t know what to d-do-“ you're able to phrase, those being your first words in the last 10 minutes.

“you don’t have to” he softly responds as his hand brushes your hair to the back of your ear, eyes attentively travelling through your face.

then, as you laid there on his lap as he always made you, yoongi starts rocking your body back and forth, pace slower than the bpm’s of a lullaby.

“but i should! i should!” you say as your eyes get drowned by your tears.

he tsk-tks, “you shouldn’t listen to whoever tells you that, even if it’s inside you” he says, his lips now finding you hair with repeated pecks, nose lovingly searching for your shampoo scent. “it’s okay, it's okay. for now, let it out and rest. you’re safe” he murmurs, arms tightening around your figure as you laid your head on his shoulder.

“you’re only saying that because i’m crying. tomorrow, i’ll be just as much of a loser as i am right now” you interject, voice weak and barely reaching his ears by the end as you nervously fiddled with your fingers.

“i’m saying that because it’s true. you’re home. i know you want to stop feeling like that, but you can't control your emotions, so just let it out. it's nothing unusual. and don't talk about yourself like that" he responds, his own fingers caressing yours as he always does when sensing your restless anxiety "if you feel lost, just remind yourself that you're home. i mean that." he keeps going, his voice barely audible if you didn't have your ear right next to his plump lips. "i can be home for you, if you let me” he responds.

“you wanna be home to a loser?”

“you clearly have no idea what a loser is" he says with a weak scoff. yoongi knows for a fact that you have a thing for the dramatic, but he also knows when it was you, someone that put a lot of pressure on themselves, feeling bad because you "should have everything sorted out".

he knew it, because he felt it, too. he knew the feeling like the palm of his hand, and he knew how god-awful it was to not be able to believe it when someone tried to genuinely help. he also knew, that he could use every trick in the book to reaffirm your worth and values, and it still wouldn't make a difference.

he knew you needed comfort, serenity and a place to freely feel. you needed a home.

he had felt that, and he promised to himself he would never let you go there alone. not you, not his home.

"i wanna be home to who is home to me” he says in a much serious and rigid tone, marking his words in your mind like no other sentence ever could, “and i love my home.”

you look up at him, and his eyes are already on yours. yours get wetter and wetter, as his keep going further and further inside your soul until you wrap your arms around his neck and buries your face back on his shoulders.

“look at me," he lifts your chin and goes to softly caress your arms, "not having control of everything is part of life. there’s nothing you can do about it but feel it when it hits you. don’t hold back from yourself, you’re more than safe to express it” he reassures. “you're not alone, and i understand what you're going through, okay?” he nods, searching for a mirrored action from you.

you feel more tears coming, but instead of hiding your face, you nod back.

"we've been there before, and you stood with me until everything got better. we can do this again, okay?” he says, tiny smile appearing on that puffy face of his “i'll be here for the good and for the bad, like you.”

you return the tiny smile and he pecks your nose making exaggerated muac noises, your smile only growing as you try to hide it with a muffled “stooooooop” coming out of your mouth, but he doesn’t let you and instead puts a finger on your cheek, returning your face to his. “look at me” and as you do, he gently pecks your lips, slowly as he possibly could, and you swear you could feel you heart slowing its frantic pace along with his lips.

pulling back, yoongi grins at you and whispers “you will always figure things out, and if any time you don’t feel like doing so, i’m here to help. we’re home, i’m your home. deal?”

you keep your eyes locked and a nod with “deal” comes out.

“good” he sighs, hands caressing your cheeks and eyes staring at your face like you're the only thing in the world as his gummy smile appears.

“you’re the best home i've ever had” he tells you, caressing your knuckles.

you weakly chuckle at his cute remark, your heartbeats slowing down along with you tears until you finally can breathe normally again and your right hand lovingly touches his clothed chest.

“you’re not bad yourself”.

[yeahyankee]

Palimpsest [Trigun '98 - Post Show - Vash x Meryl] - Pt. 3

Meryl ended up only having room for half of her plate of food. The rest of it sat ignored, perched on the corner of her work desk.

She'd tried to go to sleep a dozen times since then, woken up anew each time the storm rocked the house, making the rafters and shingles quake in their ramshackle rental.

Ultimately, she climbed out of bed and sat down at her desk. Insomnia was a hell of a good time to transcribe her notes into her report for the week. No time like the present.

Meryl felt herself get lost in the rhythm of typing. When she could manage to separate herself from the discomfort of having to report the sins and tragedies of other humans—the news was just reporting back a series of facts.

That was enough to keep her mind busy most nights until she ran out of steam or typewriter ribbon.

Except, today, her enemy was light itself.

She rounded out the hefty quote at the end of a page and pulled a blank one towards her.

Her table lamp flickered and sputtered out. Meryl cursed, getting up to fiddle with the room's light switch. Nothing. She sighed, knowing the sandstorm had finally knocked something loose at the local plant.

Outside, she couldn't hear anything but the scrape and shudder of sand blowing against the home.

Meryl made her way downstairs cautiously and tried to remember where the generator in the house was. Did Milly say it was in the basement? Outside the house? She couldn't remember.

She kicked herself. Hadn't Vash checked on it earlier?

She pressed her palms against the cool walls downstairs, closing her eyes to feel her way along. It was too dark to see anything this late, with the occlusion of the sand, no moonlight or street lights to guide her.

Downstairs, the sound and the cool dark made it sound like she was in a deep cave. The dark was an improvement, if she was being honest, to the storm's lead-up. The way it turned the sky an ember shade of red, so much like August. The churning red sky, the cratered, smoldering absense where parts of the city used to be.

A bead of sweat cropped up on her temple as she made her way through the dark. Vash was a lot of things, one of those things was a being that was not...to their understanding. And it wasn't until he'd left ages ago, that she realized--even beyond the spooky marksmanship and the hole he'd blown in the moon--people knew he wasn't like them when he showed up to town.

Like a minor note in a major chorus, they picked him out each time. The sorrow that followed Vash wasn't something he sought out, it was his punishment for being different, standing outside the flow of time.

Something slipped around her forearm and she jumped.

"Hey, whoa now, it's me," Vash said in the dark.

She slapped at him where she pictured his chest would be, "I'm not a barn animal, you don't need to horse whisper me."

"All right, fair enough," he said, grabbing her hand unceremoniously in the dark.

Meryl's soul felt like it was about to leap out of her skin. He'd practically sponge bathed her in a nightgown and somehow this seemed like the most shocking thing he'd done all evening.

"Come on, I wanna show you something," he said, tugging on her hand gently. He waited for her to catch up, mindful she wouldn't trip. "Watch your step."

"Is the generator working?' Meryl asked idly as they padded to the back of the house.

"Nah," Vash said. "Compressor's busted."

Meryl followed him to the back of the house, where the long, covered sunroom looked out towards a dusty field. The slant of the add-on roof shielded most of the covered porch from damage.

But she could see now, it provided an almost impossibly beautiful view onto the lone field, only caught in moments of visibility between rough snatches of wind.

The braided gusts of sand wove past them, and it reminded her of her old experiments as a child, shaking up water and sand in a glass bottle--a tiny imitation surf.

Vash let go of her hand and took a seat on the rattan bench, littered with Milly's favorite blankets for napping.

"I couldn't sleep so I've just kind of been watching the storm."

She sank down into the worn cushions next to him, pulling one of the crocheted blankets around herself. Less for warmth and more for comfort.

"It's beautiful," she said, relishing the dull thunder of sand buffeting against the tin roof, hearing the sand slide downward, like a big, bristled brush.

When she checked back, she noticed him looking at her, face at ease but inscrutable. "You look like you're feeling a little better, that's a relief," he said.

Meryl struggled to find her voice for a moment, "Good, yeah, I'm fine, thanks."

"Come here for a sec, you had a knot on the left side of your neck," he scooted back on the settee, making room in front of him. "Let's get that out, too."

Meryl muttered something, seemingly at her lap, and then awkwardly budged herself. She perched herself at the very edge of the settee.

Vash's hands found the back of her neck in the dark, working the pads of his fingers around the tenderness in her neck, easing out the pain slowly with practiced swipes of his thumb.

They slipped underneath her jaw, working out all the tension from when she ground her teeth in her sleep.

"You're a mess," he chuckled softly behind her. She could feel it rumble against her back as he leaned in.

"You're one to talk," she shot back, her mind going back to memories of his body. So painfully torn up, but lean, and practiced, a savage beauty to the patchwork of scars and along his flesh.

She'd counted every bullet hole on his body. Cataloged every entry and exit wound, knew every freckle, cut, and hair on his head. On some of their scariest nights, she counted them back to herself, as Vash tried to keep down the pain medication long enough to sleep.

"You know what I always wondered?" Vash asked, fingers kneading into her scalp.

"What?"

"How come you never said anything after you kissed me, that one time."

He tipped her head back and she opened up her eyes, staring at him. Somewhere along the way, she'd come under the impression that they'd silently agreed to never speak of that night again.

It was an impulsive, celebratory move, the night they stumbled back home after his recovery. The truth was that they were both delighted that Vash could walk, more than anything else.

"I was glad you weren't dead. Plus, you fell on me on the way back to the house," Meryl bristled, but as she did, she could feel Vash shift closer.

"That's the story you're going with?"

"That's what happened," she insisted.

"And now?"

He was stone sober tonight, and she had no idea what that meant. His hands swept around her hips, lifting her effortlessly into his lap.

Vash brushed the straps of her nightgown downwards, planting soft, lingering kisses on her shoulder.

"You're beautiful, Meryl," he murmured into her soap-fresh skin.

"That tickles," she shuddered, squirming in his lap.

A short huff of want, and then lips along her earlobe. His fingers curved around her ribcage, tugging her nightgown down. The tips of his fingers traced circles around her budding nipples. Lace scraped deliciously against her sensitive skin.

She leaned against him, as his fingers explored her, tracing paths from her ribs to her belly-button. She jolted softly in his lap when she felt his fingers bunching up the gown, sliding it back.

The lightest touch, so soft it almost tickled, brushed against her inner thigh. Her heart would be thundering out of nervousness if it hadn't begun to thunder out of want first.

Vash's fingers appeared at her lips, pressing against them softly for entry. She opened her mouth and took both of them to the knuckle, enjoy the salty-sweet taste to him.

Fingers slick, Vash pressed into her. She already was wet with want, his fingers slipping into her easily as her curled them upwards.

He spread her legs, hooking them on his knees, so her hips could cant upwards.

The pressure in her hips built as she bucked towards his hand, lips mouthing silent pleas.

Vash kissed along her jaw, pulling his fingers out of her.

She pressed into his hand, needy, and his middle finger pressed down on her clit, rubbing soft and slow.

Meryl bucked up against his hand one final time, feeling herself hurtle off the edge with abandon, topping into a velvet dark.

The storm outside ate any sound of their indiscretion in the solarium, and that was probably for the best.

Later that night, as she rested, curled into his chest, and counted the seconds between his breaths getting longer, more even.

When she was sure that he was a sleep, she pressed her forehead to him and whispered "I didn't think I'd see you again."

Vash's lumbering arm pulled her close, almost making her jump.

"Didn't think I'd find you."

"We didn't do a good job at this the first time around, did we?" she said glumly, feeling lulled into some false sense of security, convinced he was already asleep, babbling in a dream.

"Never too late to start over, I think," he said, suddenly humbling her. He lifted a sleepy hand to poke her on the nose. "You worry too much."

"Give me less to worry about, then," she grumbled, but felt herself relax against him.

"Yes ma'am."

She smiled.

In the morning, after the storm was isles away from town, they would wake to a glorious sky, draped in colors you could only imagine most days in the desert.

Pinks, that bled into explosive purple, soft blue, and delectable, sherbet orange, everything painted a new coat of dazzling varnish.

Maybe you could overwrite something painful with something good.

Maybe to try was human.

[java-dragon]

Bookbinding for Beginners by a Beginner part 4- Quarto Edition

SO QUARTOS! I've mentioned them a few times between 1 - 3 posts. So let me just jump into Quarto before I get into "Now I have this neat-o type faced document that I have split off... so what do I do now o' gremlin writing these posts???

I believe in being a tease sometimes, plus if I don't do it now while I'm remembering shit I won't do it.

ONWARD!

SO What is a quarto?

Well a Folio is 4 pages per one sheet of 8.5 x 11 paper.

A Quarto is 8 pages per one sheet of 8.5 x 11 paper.

And these things will BREAK you if you don't pay attention. Tiny, mighty and o-so-sweet looking.

Behold a text block I have finished up with end pages tacked on but this is 8.5 x 5x5 on the bottom... on the top? THAT is a quarto... about 5.5 x 4.5

SO what do you do? HOW do you get a quarto?

I will mention again- that this is for fics 50K or less. The sweet spot for me seems to be somewhere around 20-30k or less. But that's just me.

Well like previous go through your formatting as you usually would but for the text body itself the font size will need to be increased. Not unless you enjoy squinting or using Sherlock Holmes' magnifying glass to read. I think you might need serious help but do you boo-boo.

I set my font size for folio around 11 or 12 depending upon my mood. For Quarto? I set the font size to 26 and that's just so it's legible.

I will keep all of the fic info at a smaller font size but that would be 11 or 12 now instead of a font size of 8 or so depending upon how much I'm using from the tags.

But it will be a lot of "See the previous post" for formatting.

The trick is going back to Bookbinder JS if you want to format word to spit out Quarto size- be my guest. I cheat. I choose the path of least resistance and less math you have to deal with.

There will be more mathing involved.

But back to Bookbinder JS:

Paper size and Duplex remains the same.

Page Layout section? Hit "Quarto" and upload your pdf file.

Going down to the signature you can do perfect bound (again paperback) or signatures (for stitched books). I keep to stitched books because honestly it's nice to not rely only on glue to keep your book together. But once again follow your happiness. I'm merely stating opinion. Don't take anything as gospel all I want to do is help people break into bookbinding and fan binding cause once you get the basics down I find it very relaxing.

With that aside out of the way, fiddle with the signature size- the more the signatures the more you're going to have to sew. But if you keep everything together it won't lay nice and neat and look rather bulky. So strike a middle ground.

NOW after you do your print off... you're going to have to fold each page... one by one... twice. You're going to have to play "Line the numbers up with each individual page" for the entirety of that signature. I suggest having the pdf open while you're doing this so you can jigsaw puzzle your way into a text block.

But fold down first, then fold that in half.

By the way I hope you have some sort of cutting mat and ruler and cutting hobby knives by this point cause you're going to have to shave the tops off of the pages so you can open it up and read it like a normal book.

I would only do this if you're like me, and have a fondness for smaller fics that you'd like on your shelf and also have a special breed of self inflicted masochism.

I'm a multi-tool of reasons as to why I've done this. One- I got curious as to how to do this. Two- it's now a hyper fixation and weekender hobby. Three- The sea has called me home and having copies of my favourite stories just sounds like making a boat a home to me. Four- I was born with the "Fuck it how hard can it be?" Gene. Five- that gene is a double edged sword but I'm at least spreading what little I know around for anyone that may wish to teach themselves how to do this.

Once you have everything folded, and trimmed, it's time to put that tiny precious stack of paper into your book press, and you compress it down like it owes you money and think of it as you getting your own back for having to do so much fucking math and folding.

NOW I can start getting into how to make loose pages of folded paper into something resembling a book.

[slime-stew]

secret posts for tumblr cuz i dont like posting long rambley blog things to twitter :3 decided to do the shiny pokemon alongside the masterball which might against all odds after 22 years be one of if not The first regular ass items retexture...

the textures are all for the most part just ripped from pokemon stadium 2 which is fair considering melee's development time and also the considerably lower necessary poly count for a little spawnable dude. it also means that i can just use whatever ps2 does for shinies and LUCKILY it has that weird ass HSL system that means i can just grab the textures off of spriters resource (large shoutout to my man Mr. C for extracting them so i don't have to) and wiggle the colors around correctly and just chuck them in. i did have to grab the master ball texture from some furret minigame for authenticity. both this texture and the pokemon colors are different to modern colors but melee players are either too zoomer to care or too old to know they changed, so it's fine. the master ball wouldn't work on the regular uv so i had to fiddle around in blender and i figured i might as well add a Little detail but i'm p sure this is my first actual model swap so i probably still fucked up...i know some stuff didn't import correctly but it looks mostly fine now.

melee pokemon fun facts:

ditto has a unique texture for his Goo

porygon is made of solid color in melee. seemingly all the other pokemon in melee use tiny 8x8 solid color textures for bodyparts of a single color (something that stadium did) but porygon is Properly done with like vertex lighting and shit, probably because his original texture was just a fake shiny thing so it would have looked ugly with a proper lighting engine

unown models don't show up in hsdraw idk why!!! probably bc there are 26 of them. it works in DAT wizard tho

snorlax has a yellow mout in the viewer but i think that might also be hsdraw dying

a lot of textures with partial transparency like goldeen fins or porygon eyes are very subtly different in melee, i'm not sure if its the melee dev team cleaning them up or if its a case of the originals being compressed and losing some of that in stadium, but regaining it in a more sophisticated engine. cant say but the textures still line up so idc

hey remember what i said about unown? its not even differently colored so i dont have to change it anyway

clefairy is the only pokeball pokemon in melee with unique textures for its shiny form, and i have to be specific because some are not in melee (like gyrados) and some are not from pokeballs (like jigglypuff)

[faeriefrolic]

Sims Tag Meme

Thank you so much @cactusblossom for tagging me!!! This was really fun to do. I tag anyone who sees this if they want to do it too!

What’s your favorite sims death? The ranting about death is hilarious, Grim basically says fuck around and find out for that one lmao. I haven't personally seen it in game but it would be wild. But I have to go with the classic delete the pool ladder from ts1 and locking sims in a room with fireworks :)

Alpha CC or Maxis Match? Maxis match! I like my game to be colorful and cartoony.

Do you cheat when your sims gain weight? Nope! I like body diversity and it's a part of their life. The only times I would cheat their weight is if it was glitched (like Madeline and Tabby at one point with the gain weight from pregnancy mod. My sliders weren't playing nice and their animations/arms were messed up)

Do you use move objects? I do, for deco objects. I don't like using it for functional objects though because sims are dumb and can't route/interact with them if they're not placed normally. I like having playable homes/lots than just aesthetically pretty ones

Favorite mod?

First expansion/game/stuff pack you got? I started playing sims with ts1 when I borrowed it and the Livin Large EP from my brother. I still have all the ts1 cds in my room (but sadly no disc drive to put them in lol rip) For ts2 I *think* it was Open for Business, I remember making bookstores with it. For ts3 I bought base game + seasons bundled at Gamestop randomly one day and uhhh oops lol. I don't play ts4, but I have the base game + cats & dogs.

Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing? I pronounce it like aLive

Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? Crystal Leblanc, my little kitty faerie doll! She's an oc of mine and I love watching her get excited over tiny things and her cute faces. I also really love Pewter Dusk, he started as just a random sim request from @shuckleberrysims but I started a save with him and he's so adorable and fun. I love awkward fish genie.

Have you made a simself? I did long ago, but I don't think I even have their sim file anymore lmao

What sim traits did you give yourself? Cat Person, Bookworm, Shy, Supernatural Fan, Natural Cook

What is your favorite EA hair color? I don't think I really have one? I despise the gross green-brown preset in ts3 though, it's SO UGLY... especially when random generated sims had it, uuugh. So glad there's a fix for that now.

Favorite EA hair? A few Uni Life hairs are cute but my recent favorite is one that Mignonette has as a teen/ya. It's a rly cute messy updo hair with a bandana bow. She aged up into it as a teen and it looked really cute on her so I kept it! It's from Master Suite stuff!

Favorite life stage? I think you can guess lmao

Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? Gameplay, I cannot build to save my life, I make ugly boxes

Are you a CC creator? No, but I'm interested in learning more about it, I've been fiddling with ITUNs in s3pe and such. I've made mods for Skyrim but I'd like to make more sim downloads (I need to put the Dusks up for download if I track down their cc...)

Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad? 2016 switter gang hi!!! It's been a long time and a few of them are no longer on simblr. but I like to think I have some friends on here, though I'm very shy and go on hiatuses a lot

What’s your favorite game? TS3! I wish I could play ts1 again though :(

Do you have any Sims merch? No but I should get some...

Do you have a YouTube for sims? No, I'm pretty self conscious of my voice and I'm afraid of my game error 12'ving or crashing while recording lol. I do stream in discord though

How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing? When I started playing I had very minimal cc and was very vanilla. Then I got into berries after discovering simblr, and I really like all the different colors and fun designs. I just think they're neat.

What’s your Origin ID? Honestly I don't know and I don't wanna open origin lol

Who’s your favorite CC creator? Oh gosh too many... too many slkdfjlf but to name a few off the top of my head, @sim-songs, @nectar-cellar, @poisonfireleafs hair, @xiasimla, @teekapoa

How long have you had a simblr? Since 2013! All of my older posts are gone now though when I deleted them years ago :( I wish I could look back on them. Wayback machine doesn't load the pictures and only has a few pages of my old blog.

How do you edit your pictures? I used edit with actions in photoshop before I got reshade. Now I just use @erasabledinosaur's wonderful presets 💗 I'm currently using Papercut and sometimes Strawberry Rhubarb!

What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far? Honestly, University Life will always have a place in my heart as it was the first EP I bought after base game + seasons. I have really fond memories of my simself running around the uni world exploring everything about ts3, everything was so new and exciting to me. and I love the uni townies! Especially Cid and Shea. I made ocs that are loosely based on them. (Very loosely since my Cid is nothing like EA Cid lmao)

What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next? Well since EA abandoned ts3 all I can ask for is the game magically becoming 64 bit 🙃

[bayisdying]

TINY CURL (NSFW 18+)

A/N: Listen. This was born because the way I felt personally attacked by that fucking curl. Motherfucker knows he's hot as fuck. Damn you Danny. Anyways enjoy this fucking smut you whores.

Tagging the whores: @mtnofgrace @mrsjaderogers @dragon-kazansky @cycbaby @askmarinaandothers @callsignscupcake

Happy Thirsty Thursday!

Lucky wasn't very fond of going to Navy dinners. She liked dressing up in nice dresses and all but it was always so stressful meeting all the high ranking officials. Navigating her way through conversations without being discharged from the Navy.

What she was fond of? Her man looking damn good in a suit and doing his hair all fancy.

She was almost done getting ready, just needed a hand zipping her dress all the way up. She walked into the bathroom and had to pause to gather her thoughts. Mickey was finishing up his hair, leaving a single curl on his forehead.

He sees her in the mirror and smiles at her.

"You look gorgeous Lucky girl." and he wasn't wrong. She was gorgeous, but he was delicious.

"Zip me up?"

He motions for her to turn around, and his expert hands zip the dress up. His touch was gentle but it sent chills up her spine.

"Are you alright Bay?"

"Just fine." She squeaks out, turning around and eyes finding that damn curl again.

He kisses her forehead, not wanting to mess up her lipstick - that would have to happen later.

Lucky is uncharacteristically quiet on the drive to the hotel where the dinner was being held. She was fiddling with her fingers and Mickey could feel her side-eyeing him. He wasn't sure what was wrong but he laid his right hand on her thigh, which caused her to jump a little.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, worried.

"You just look too good for your own good." She whispers. "especially with that fucking one, tiny curl."

He laughs. "the curl has you hot and bothered?"

"Yes!" She exclaims then whines knowing he is going to tease her with this knowledge the entire dinner. And as much as she usually loved his teasing, the last thing she needed was for some higher up to see them messing around.

"Oh Bay." His hand moves higher, the thigh slit of her dress giving him easy access to bare skin. Goosebumps pop up everywhere on her exposed skin.

"Mickey, we have to behave."

"Where's the fun in that pretty girl?"

Fuck.

As if the night couldn't get worse, they had been seated at a table with nobody they knew personally - but they were some of the head honchos.

Ice probably thought it would be smart for the two of them to socialize with these people - too bad his surrogate daughter was practically on fire.

When Mickey talked, the curl moved and it was damn near hypnotizing. Lucky had to keep sipping her drink to keep herself busy, and she really tried to join the conversation. But it's hard to talk when your husband's hand is ghosting you where you need him the most.

It's even harder to talk when he finally reaches that spot. Lucky swears if she had been drinking at the time she would have choked.

He makes lazy circles over her underwear, smirking a little when he feels the wetness already there. Only he could do this to her.

Lucky was barely hanging on by the time dessert was served. She was soaking wet, damn near ready to cry, and miserable. Mickey had that damn smirk on his face again, and his curl was coming undone a bit.

"Damn him for being so fucking sexy." Lucky thinks before removing his hand and excusing herself to the bathroom.

She knew he would follow her, she was his magnet. He could never stay away from long.

"Having fun cariño?"

The words are barely out of his mouth before her lips are attacking his with a fire that burned hotter than the sun. She's pulling him as close as possible by his suit jacket, hands everywhere she could reach. They don't part until they are both breathless.

"Take me home right now Mickey."

"Yes ma'am."

They snuck - not so subtly mind you - out of the hotel lobby. Once they hit the parking lot he lifted her easily into his arms bridal style and her lips attach to his neck leaving bite marks wherever she can.

They barely make it through the doorway before her dress is unzipped and on the floor leaving her bare except her very soaked panties.

She reaches up and curls the curl that started this all around and around her finger.

"You just love the curl don't you?"

"Fuck yes."

She squeals as he picks her up and brings her to their bedroom. Kisses growing more and more needy as he lays her gently down.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world." He says, his eyes drinking in the sight of her.

He removes his clothing and pulls down her underwear leaving nothing between them. He slowly sinks into her, easily bottoming out with how much he's teased her tonight.

The sound she makes when he's fully inside her is music to his ears. He starts at a slow and steady pace, drawing moans from Lucky as she claws at his arms, begging him for more, but he doesn't give her it just yet. She's begging him for harder and faster. Her words are incoherent and breathy as he fills her so deliciously at that damn tortoise pace.

"Mick...Mickey please."

"Please what Lucky? Use your words."

"Just.."

"Just what?" He teases.

Tears slide down her cheek and he wipes them away with the pad of his calloused thumb.

Her first orgasm comes like a freight train, it's so intense Mickey has to still inside her as she cums around him with a primal scream.

"That's it baby girl. That's it cariño. God you feel so damn good." He moans as he starts to move again. This time his pace is a little faster, but it still feels torturously slow.

Lucky can only whine in response as the pressure in her stomach comes back.

"You know how we were saying we wanted to start a family?"

Lucky's eyes meet his, tears still welling up from her last release.

"How about I put a baby in you right now?" He asks with a growl that tips her over the edge again. The thought of giving this beautiful man a baby consumed her mind as she came again.

Once she came down from her second high, he finally gave her what she wanted.

He went faster, deeper, and harder. Causing her to scream out in pleasure, and damn it if he didn't love that.

"Fuck Bay. You're so good. I love you. Holy shit." He can barely string words together when she cums around him a third time, his own release following shortly after. After a few minutes of catching their breath, Mickey slowly removes himself from her and finally collapsing on his side of their bed.

"Holy fuck Mickey." Lucky says pulling at that damn curl - now a total mess and barely even a curl - one more time. "That was hot."

"Can we name our kid Curly if this works?"

She playfully punches his shoulder.

"So no to Curly Garcia?"

-----

A/N: IM SO SORRY MOM.

[kuivamustekala]

could u share 2, 5, and 10 for krenn and 1, 3, and 8 for janny? perhaps even a 5 for mischief if u are feeling silly 💜

I am just going to preemptively slap a readmore here bc I know I will ramble

Krenn

2. What is their grooming routine?

Krenn's every day, most basic grooming routines are very simple. Wash his face, clean his beak, put his hair up so it's mostly out of the way (or let it down, if it's the end of the day), all done! He's not in the habit of long showers, and he especially doesn't care for hot water - a quick, cold shower is all he needs. He's not really one to pamper himself, so his everyday routines include washing and such as more of a necessity, or just another thing on his list of things to do.

He still likes to keep himself looking nice, though. When he's fiddling with his hair, he'll run his hands over the tentacles, making sure they're growing healthy and the skin isn't getting dry or scaly-looking. There's a tub of heavy-duty hand cream near the sink in his workshop - the webbing between his fingers and the claws make gloves annoying to wear, so he only wears them if he absolutely has to. And since he sometimes spends long hours with his hands deep in splatling guts, covered in oil and ink remnants and whatever else, his hands would be flaking and calloused to hell and back if he didn't take care of them. He keeps his claws filed a bit shorter, so they don't risk breaking as easily (and a bit duller than they'd be naturally, just for the sake of safety). It's a lot of little things that are not really a part of his routine in a way he'd realize to say, if asked.

5. What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstance?

Now this... is a very good question. Krenn does not cry often. Most of the time his distress manifests in other ways - he might get snappy and almost angry, or he might kinda shut off and go quiet, or he might end up trying to take charge of the situation at hand in an attempt to redirect the emotions into something more productive if the situation calls for it. Even when he is just flat out sad, it's rare for him to cry: you're much more likely to find him just kinda hiding somewhere, face hidden, trying to wait it out until the emotions settle.

It was probably late at night, with Sara sitting in the workshop with him, both of them fiddling with something to keep their hands busy, not really aiming for productivity of any kind. Krenn was talking about a childhood friend of his who'd passed away unexpectedly while they were at sea, and was almost startled to realize his eyes had filled with tears. I think he only really cries when the emotions manage to creep up on him, and he's too busy to realize it.

He doesn't like it.

10. What objects do they always carry around with them?

Most of the time he just grabs his keys and phone. He's got a wallet phone case, and a few small tools on his keyring - a screwdriver, a tiny measuring tape, a small swiss army knife, probably a small but decently bright flashlight in case his phone is out of battery. If he's heading out for work-related purposes, he'll usually grab his tool case, and during summer he won't leave the house without an insulated water bottle. Also I feel like he probably has a spare pen or pencil in at least one pocket on every article of clothing he owns. Man's got the vibe of someone who goes to an Ikea and grabs a few of the pencils just to have them around.

Janny

1. What is the character's go-to drink order?

Whatever kind of fruity iced tea or lemonade strikes its fancy that day. Peach and raspberry are always solid picks! Usually it'll also go for the bigger sizes. A girl needs its treats. For a hot beverage, it's a fan of spiced fruit teas of varying kinds, and every now and again it'll go for a strawberry milk tea.

3. What was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go?

Janny's most expensive purchase was a quality couch and a matching armchair, both in deep teal. The first couch in its apartment was an old, second-hand one that was starting to become less of a couch and more of a hard slab in the middle of the living space, and once it got a stable enough job, it decided to get into the habit of saving and then get a very nice couch as a reward. The armchair wasn't planned on, initially, but then some sales happened at a rather convenient time and Janny's very good at convincing itself that an impulse purchase is actually a good idea. (And to be fair, this one was, in fact, a good purchase.)

Most of Janny's spending, outside of necessities, goes towards a variety of fun things. A variety of little treats, for one, as well as fun decorative things for its apartment and new clothes every now and then. Janny tends to get rather attached to its clothes and rarely buys new ones without debating on it for a longer while - the impulse purchases happen in the home decor aisles instead.

8. Describe the place where they sleep.

Janny's bedroom is rather small - most of the apartment's footprint goes towards the living room, with both the kitchen and bedroom suffering a bit for it. This isn't helped by Janny's bed being a bigger one - I don't know the words for bed sizes for the life of me and this isn't helped by the fact that they're apparently different practically everywhere in the world, but it's got a 140cm/55in wide one with a soft mattress, several pillows (a few regular size ones, accompanied by a couple body pillows) and a couple blankets forming a very cozy squid nest. There's also a bean bag chair kinda crammed in the corner, where it was banished to after the armchair moved in to the living room, a small desk with a saddle chair situated by the window, and a couple wall-mounted shelves that hold whatever comics Janny's reading in the moment, a variety of decorative thingies, and there's probably at least one mug sitting somewhere. There's probably some half-worn clothes strewn about, and overall it's a bit of a mess, most of it banished to the floor to keep the bed dedicated to good eepies.

Mischief

5. What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstance?

Mischief's cried quite a few times as of late. They wiped tears from their eyes on several occasions when Roachie, after having realized what the weird changes around the old dragon skeleton were about, was helping them build a nest. When Roachie set the egg into the nest and then settled by Mischief to watch the sun set, Mischief leaned against their shoulder and cried. When the two of them returned to their first starter house, Mischief thought they were for sure done with the tears, and then they set their backpack down and realized they were tearing up again.

The last time they cried was in the Inbetween, after they'd logged off and closed the server for everyone. They went to move the files into storage to make space for a new world, but instead found themself holding the files close to their chest, trying very hard to not let tears fall on them, sobbing as sadness, longing, hope and excitement all swirled together into an overwhelming mess of emotion.

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

How is Robin's sense of self? Has it changed over the years, or does he still have good grasp on his identity? Has Abel influenced it at all?

═══ HEADCANON INQUIRIES ═══ LEAGUE VERSE

This is one of my favorite topics to explore with Robin (I probably say that a lot but I mean it) - its an incredibly deep dive that I'm happy you're interested in. It's also a part of Robin's character that I've been slowly inching my way into as I don't want it to come across as something sudden; it's a delicate subject matter that I truly want to capture in an accurate sense. There are so many repercussions of isolation by itself but also in relation to Robin's own traumas and physical condition?

He has practically lost what it means to be a person.

Something I, as a writer, have been dipping my toes into is really revamping Robin's character in terms of how much he genuinely lacks in terms of human interaction and how much his physical conditions impact his frame of mind. More recently I've been fiddling with the idea that Robin is, tecnically, a walking folklore or even a cryptid to the people of Ionia. He has too many weird attributes and if you describe him in a prose heavy way he immediately becomes horrifying; this is something I've been actively experimenting with in my threads with my mutuals and have noticed in a few other interactions. I'm not sure why I had never thought about it before, but I feel its quite a natural progression for him considering where he currently is.

Example; His words are not harsh as he stalks around the ronin, staring down at him with those horrifically wide eyes, the fire of the campside less a warm invitation and more a damning inferno within the reflection of his iris. Robin always did have that strange way about him, a strangely uneven splice of a man and something otherworldly. Perhaps he was now, simply something that never was supposed to return - a being who knew too much of what lay beyond, one who knew too much of what could be crawling within.

Example 2: The realization of a thief dawned upon the mage and he, with the slow creeping nature of an owl, rotated his blind gaze in the direction of the brush where the man hid. Irrefutably nightmarish was the hollow stare which locked onto the hiding jackal, one which screamed of death and horrific ends to all those foolish enough to steal from the land the mage had cultivated.

His condition erases more and more of him per day, and it plucks at his individualism as he merges further into the wildnerness of Ionia; he has no one to pull him from taking the same steps everyday. Much like how animals in nature practice the same motions from dawn to dusk - he is the same, he goes down the same paths, gathers the same berries and herbs etc. It can be easy to see how this has twisted his perception of himself; he gives himself "jobs" to do because it is his only way to see others and have a moment away from the mundane schedule of his life. He has always seen his worth in his work, every verse, every timeline - he is tied to what he can produce and without any interuptions he will never stop. And given that he no longer needs to eat or sleep anymore, he is consistently going without end. I imagine one of the only people to really tell him to slow down and stop would be @yanlei while he was with the Order of Shadows - perhaps one of the only people in his whole life to make him feel like a human being, instead of a workhorse, instead of a failure.

Even worse throughout all of this is how humans are cultivated and created through our memories, we are made from all of the little things throughout our lives. Big events, small events, every tiny little interaction changes our perception of ourselves and our lives. Robin is currently, and has been, gradually forgetting his life from before his murder; he hardly even remembers his family and they were his main driving force for everything he ever did. He remembers their names, how many siblings he had, how old they were...but their personalities are lost on him. Without those memories, what is he but the moss growing up the wall of his shack? How can he hope to ever properly heal without having the ability to open those memories back up and look at them with a fresh stare? What is left of life when the rest has gone?

His purpose in life is clear when there is a task; he knows little of who he is without it.

As for Abel he is a totally different story in and of itself. "Abel" originally formed when Robin was 15 years old and took over several spaces within his life that were empty. It became his mentor, his only "family" - even going as far as to use his father's voice from his memories, and it also taught him things he asked it to. Robin is acutely aware of Abel's nature and is generally mistrusting of it; however it has not lied to him even remotely as much as he believes. Abel taught him how to speak and how to navigate the deeper underbelly of Zaun that ROBIN WANTED TO GO INTO. Robin was disillusioned when he could not find the answers he wanted, and was arrogant enough to travel into a place of unethical work in order to try and find a solution to the loss of life tormenting him.

Abel simply gave Robin the tools in which he asked for, but every decision, every mistake, and every error was caused by Robin alone. Even in death, Bel pushes Robin to break his habits and find people to communicate with, it rewards him for it and offers him ways to heal but only HE can cause the change he wants to see and experience. Until he can find it within himself again that he is a human and not a beast within the woods, he will have moons for eyes, and a gait that follows the breeze swept through the trees - what comes after..? He has yet to see.

[ducknotinarow]

[Rise Raph and Rise Casey]

Casey fiddled with his hands slightly, looking up to Raph. Sometimes he forgot how big they were compared to him. With mission done, World saved, and Casey here for, well, forever, it gave time for them to talk. He had dropped the small bombshell before things went to Hell, but now that everything was taken care of? Well, maybe they should actually discuss things,

"Raph?" Casey speaks up, "I, look, if you don't want to call me your son, I'd understand, a-and if you don't want me to call you my dad, I'd get it."

Even if he had been dreaming of this moment since he was a tiny child; dreaming of somehow seeing his dad again,

"But, well, I would like to get to know you?" Casey suggested, "If, you'd want to get to know me?"

| muse interaction

Well, the world was saved now. Raphael was even back with his family, Leo managed to break through his krang brain washing. Outside some minor lasting results for Raph, he was all fine again, they all were. The dust had settled, and their home was saved more importantly though their family was safe. The one thing they always fought for most alone with the safety of others. Course now that family had one more member.

Casey.

Yeah okay sure they had other humans that they had included into their little odd bunch. Like April. But that isn't why Casey stood out well, at least for Raphael. He still had the conversation heavy on his mind right now. He didn't physically need to be holding on to that photo Casey showed to him. The image was burned into mind easily enough. Him in the future war battled, older, but holding a baby all bundled up in blankets. A look in his eyes Raph knew he hadn't worn before. Because that bundle was a baby Casey. His baby. Casey was his son. And well all that was the same Raphael had been rephrasing and repeating those thought a lot because it was well a lot to take in. Having a child was one thought but meeting them?

Raph had noticed that the others got some tidbits of information on their own future selfsame. Leo was so hit shot ninja master, Mikey was a bad ass mystic ninja, and Donnie was the greatest mind the world ever knew. Raph wasn't surprised by any of what they told Gimme from Casey. He could see all that being true. There was a swell of pride in his shell, knowing his brother one day reached their potentials like he always knew they could Never once did something about himself come up and Raph had a feeling he knew why and that added a twist of guilt when it came to Casey. Smiling bright up to Raph it was different from how he looked to Leo. Towards Leo it was looking at somehow he was seeing again, the same for the others. But Raph? Something was just very different.

Likely didn’t help that he near about ran away from the poor kid either jeez Raph. Raphael sighed to himself as he reached up and dragged his fingers down his mask. It was a lot though and Raph’s mind had been swimming trying to work through all these thick foggy, murky thoughts of his he didn’t know where to start. In part he wonder if this was how his pops felt when he suddenly found himself with four turtles in his care.So lost in trying to figure out what to do here he didn’t even noticed Casey make his way over to him now.

"Raph?"

Raph turned to look down to the kid, left to stare back into the trait they shared with the snapper. Bright green eyes. It wasn’t a lot but it was enough to show he and Raph were related, he had his eyes. The same bright shade of green enough to get by as human but not many humans had green eyes even like that. unsure how to answer in the moment left to near jump out of his shell. Funny how a small little human seemed to set Raphael of all on edge like this. Unsure what to call them. Name made the most sense..but is he meant to call them something else? Did future him have names for them? oh he was spiraling again instead he just offered a wide smile hoping it be enough, before he started to wonder if he was shown off to much of his teeth in the moment. So he closed it into a tight beak smile. Shit is he even smiling? he forgot how he smiles!?

 "I, look, if you don't want to call me your son, I'd understand, a-and if you don't want me to call you my dad, I'd get it."

What? Raphael felt like his heart was sinking at the mention alone no of course that wasn’t it! Oh jeez Raph great how about telling this poor kid that though?! Why was Raph finding it so hard to find his voice for once, he never been one to get so lost into his mind like this always reacting through smashing before thinking, shouting before being clam and collected.

But then he looked at them again. Sure their family was able to be reunited. Raph saved Leo and got captured, and then they almost lost Leo for good. But they all manged to get back home in one piece. That being the four of them together again. Casey? Casey world was gone. His family was gone. One could argue he still had his family but. Casey didn’t he had familiar faces people he knew but they didn’t know him. In part did Raph ever get to know him much? Sure his world was awful and the result of a major war going on living to survive over just to live like they could. Casey didn’t know anything of this current world hell Pizza was so new to them even. So was everything else, and everyone else.

"But, well, I would like to get to know you?"

Raph slowly moved to sit on his knees so he could better look at Casey. Right now Raph wasn’t look at some random human claiming to be his kid. he was Looking at Leo, Donnie and Mikey. He was looking at himself. Watching how Casey tripped over his words how they played with their fingers how they didn’t know what to do but wanted to still try.

 "If, you'd want to get to know me?"

“What makes ya think I wouldn’ wanna know ya Casey?" Raph offer hand lifting to set his hand on to their shoulder. Letting it hover a moment to make sure that was fine before he finally let his heavy drop on to their shoulder. " imma be honest here I got a bit spooked when ya told me. Aye mean that ain't easy suddenly finding you got a kid to look out for I mean." Yeah now he was really starting to understand his own father in this moment. "but that don't mean anythin' against yous okay? I jus...don't wanna disappointing after all i don't know how I am or was to you as your dad. I might not be the same turtle yet?" Raphael tries to express the best that he can. Unaware of just how little even Casey knew about him. "I mean I wouldn't have told yas to stay with us if I didn' wanna get ta know you." He offers next

Letting eyes fall to the ground now " It can't be easy for yas right now either, I don't wanna add to all you got ta handle...but maybe for now lets just stick to names and figure it out from there?" shifting his gaze back to them to see how they feel about it all. It was like when he was kid again despite having a father Raph found himself in a parental role once more. "but for the record Case, you're wrong I do wanna call ya that." Giving a slight squeeze to their shoulder. "Who wouldn' ? Ya lived through an apocalypse, ate rats, faced the krang and never backed down, heck ya came to a world ya didn't know and stayed focus on ya mission too. Pfft more than I can say for anyone else." Giving a roll of his eyes a moment taking a shot at the others well giving the praise to Casey. "You been facing through so much and yet ya still got guts to keep moving on forward. Who wouldn't wanna know someone 'ike that? 'ike you? And ya say i'm ya dad in the future?" Smile brighten up a little "That's the most amazing bit to me."

He waits a bit once more hit with his thought about this poor kid lost in a world of familiar strangers. "I think you're already pretty cool as is."

[sheliesshattered]

After my last rambling post about my recent and future sewing projects, I was able to make some real progress on the project currently on my table, the Lengberg Castle Bra interpretation. Setting the cups ended up being less of a pain than I thought it would be, possibly because I just went ahead and ran a gathering stitch right at the seam-line on the cups, then marked the 12, 3, 6, and 9 o'clock positions on each and pulled the gathers until it was just small enough to match the circular holes in the front of the body piece. Pinning each cup into place and sewing them to the body after that was easy.

Getting all the tiny wrinkles out of the mockup when I was draping it on myself was always going to be a longshot, and I guess in the end I didn't quite get them all smoothed out. But there's really not all that much gathering on the cups -- once I've fiddled with the fit and flat-felled all the seams, it probably won't even be visible, certainly not through clothing.

Eventually all those raw edges will be getting flat-felled, but for now I've left nearly all of it as is so that I can adjust the fit once I can really try this thing on. I did do a little bit of flat-felling to the vertical cup seams right where the cup meets the body, since I wouldn't be able to get in there again after that seam was sewn. In a theoretical future version of this I might actually want to take those vertical seams in a little more right where they meet the body, and thus avoid having to gather the cups to ease them in, but at least for this version I'm not going to mess with the fitting along that cup-to-body seam.

To really be able to try this on and check for fit, I'm going to have to get the eyelets for the side spiral lacing in place. I have been meaning to make a set of lacing strips with a little bit of scrap coutil and left over grommets from my Rhaenyra dress, but eh I don't feel like doing that much hammering right now. And I think that because this whole thing is un-boned, lacing strips might give me an approximate fit but not the real fit. Getting the side lacing in will allow me to fit it the way I actually intend to wear it.

But before I can start on the hand-bound eyelets, I needed to finish the top edge of the reinforced lacing area, and continue that part of the way around the armscye. I did this with a little twice-turned rolled hem held in place with a whip stitch. I continued that finish up towards the shoulder seam, but didn't quite get there -- I expect that in the fitting phase I may need to adjust that shoulder seam again, so I'm leaving that area unfinished in case I need to move the seam.

I left my long thread tails in place so that I can just finish this up once I'm solid on the fit of the shoulder seam. I did almost all that handsewing while on the phone with my brother last night (my 10 year old niece, who generally loves hanging out with me in person, always cries out "noooo!" when she realizes her dad is on the phone with me, because, and I quote, "you always talk for hours!!"). It was a good mindless handsewing project with lots of tiny stitches to do while chatting for not quite 3 hours, lol.

I didn't realize until a few hours later how much I had overdone in sewing all those tiny stitches, and my right wrist has been hurting since late last night. The spoonie chronic pain and weird joint issues are a primary contributor to how slow of a sewist I am, and I'm definitely going to have to delay my plan to start on the eyelets for at least a day or two, maybe longer. I might be able to handle measuring and marking out the locations for all the eyelets today, but at this point I'm doing as much with my left hand as I can just to give my right a rest. I'd rather take a couple of days off now than a couple of weeks or months off because I continued to push when I should have rested.

So the plan for finishing this, whenever that happens to be and at whatever slow pace I need to go, is to get the eyelets in for side spiral lacing, and then adjust the fit on the shoulder seams and the vertical seams of the cups (and maaaaybe the cup-to-body seam, but I'd really prefer not to mess with that one if I can avoid it). Once I'm happy with the fit in the shoulders and the cups, I'll be able to flat-fell those seams and finish up the armscye hem. After that it'll be down to handsewing a narrow rolled hem on the neckline and attaching a skirt of some description. I have some ideas for what I want to do with the skirt, but I'll figure out the specifics if/when I get that far.

If I need to take a longer break from handsewing and put the eyelets off for more than just a few days, I might shift gears and work on one of the projects with less handsewing. It might make sense to sew the mockup for Jack's Very Fancy Santa Hat while I have the muslin out and the white thread in the machine, but that's like, maybe an hour of work total. I also recently pulled out the 7 yards of brushed cotton herringbone that is destined to become a smokkr/Viking apron dress type over-layer piece, and if my wrist isn't in too bad of a shape, cutting that out from my existing pattern should be pretty straightforward.

And yeah, I'm mixing eras all over the place with my silly Pre-Raphaelite inspired historybounding -- 15th century Lengberg Bra and 13th/14th century cotehardies and 9th/10th century apron dress. But eh, that's the fun of historybounding in contrast to actual historical reenactment costuming: I can pull inspiration from whatever era I feel like, use whatever fabrics and colors and weaves (or knits!) that I want, put the seams wherever works best for me. And hopefully much like the Pre-Raphaelite art, I'll end up with something that is a little fantasy and a little historical, while still being comfy and practical to wear in my every day life. And hopefully my chronic illnesses will actually allow me to sew all the things I so desperately want to make and wear, sooner rather than later.