#animation reference pack

[temeyes]

going on a trip for a while! drew this b4 i pack hehe ✨

[pfpanimes]

⌕ mouthwashing • anya.

like or reblog if you save/use. ✨

[quibbs126]

My brain is now wondering about the prospect of triple changer Optimus. Like I don’t know, I think it’d be cool to see

I mean I can imagine it potentially making him too overpowered, like if he has a plane alt he can be a fighting beast in both the land and sky, but I mean maybe if you play it a certain way, you could make it work without that issue. Not sure exactly what that means, but basically I don’t think it’s impossible to pull off without it being too OP

I’m just thinking about the idea now

[fandomsoda]

I am not built to work, I am built to laze around, love, and create. And on occasion, I’m built for daydreaming in the sunlight and running through a flower field with friends in-toe. I’m built to share food with friends, I’m built to snuggle on lazy afternoons. I’m built to get up to shenanigans with those I love and use every breath I have to keep them and this world safe from hatred. I am built to break my societal chains and live a good life, helping others do so too. I’m built to provide for my community as they do for me, I’m built to grow and change and evolve and discover myself.

But never to work, no. Because I think that is work enough.

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

It's far too early in the morning for me to be awake rn, but imagine a post-canon happily ever AU for John and Arthur, where Arthur gets John like, a teddy bear or something to fidget with and keep him company while Arthur sleeps

[lucidfairies]

— pretty in pink [sevika]

synopsis: after you lose your final strike, your parents all but banish you to their old friend's farm, and well, as much as you hate it, the woman happens to be obscenely attractive

pairing: rich!bimbo!reader x farmer! sevika

warnings: younger!reader (twenties, sevika is thirties/forties), mean!sevika, pussy eating, backshots, fingering, orgasm denial, domestic kink, breeding kink, free use mentioned, dirty talk, pet names, fucking in front of a mirror, breath play, oral fixation, spanking + counting spanks, degradation, stomach bulge, squirting strap, strap referred to as cock/dick

wc: 4.8k

a/n: lots of quick notes! this fic is very much based on this post by @polkadotzzzz !!! and per usual, so many thanks to my dearest @sevsgiirl for helping me out with this one 🩷

It was only one party.

Your best friend, Jinx, invited you, and it was a well known fact that Jinx knew the best parties, with the best drugs and the best drinks. So of course you couldn’t turn her down, and thank god you didn’t. The party was packed, and the drinks and drugs were more than anything you had ever dreamt of.

That being said, when a picture of you snorting a line circled all of the tabloids, it was easy to say that your parents wanted your head on a stick. Your parents were notorious in town, seeing as they were the wealthiest. Somehow, their money got them top spots in every celebrity gossip magazine, and you were in no way except from it.

The idea was ridiculous. You were an adult, standing tall in your twenties, and it wasn’t anyone’s right (especially your parents) to tell you how to live your life. If you wanted to snort coke at a party with fifty of your closest friends, then you were going to. No magazine was going to stop you.

That was how you landed here, on the front porch of a woman that you didn’t even know the name of. Your parents stood in front of you as you waited for her to answer the door, and when she finally did, you hardly bothered looking up from your phone. This wasn’t going to last long, you were sure of it. Your parents wanted you to live on a farm, tending to animals like some kind of slob. They claimed it would “get you in line”, as if your life meant that much to them.

You had several men behind you, shuffling in your number of suitcases as your parents hugged the woman before you and made efforts to catch up. For someone they claimed to have known for so long, you had never heard of the woman, and when you looked up and finally got a good look at her, you only remembered her face from one meager photo on the wall.

She was tall, taller than your father even, and she was packed with pure muscle. The woman was truly intimidating, but you attempted to shrug it off. Maybe you could offer her money in return for not making you work with anything dirty.

“Sevika, we are so grateful for you,” your mother spoke softly, taking her hand and patting it like she was doing some innumerable service to them. “This is our daughter, I don’t think you’ve ever met her,” you stepped forward, still scrolling on your phone as you popped a large bubble of gum. Your mother wacked your arm and you rolled your eyes, turning off your phone.

“‘m Sevika,” she reached a hand out and you looked at it for a moment, noticing every speck of dirt that graced her palm. “Y’r daddy says you’re in need of someone to set you straight, sound about right?” Your dad chuckled and you sighed.

“That’s not exactly how I’d phrase it, pretty sure I’m just living my life as an adult,” you side-eyed him with a glare. “And regardless, none of this is any of your business.” You huffed. To you, it truly wasn’t anyone’s. Your parents' public image didn’t matter to you, you didn’t want any part in it.

Sevika hummed, turning to your dad. “Don’t you worry, boss. I’ll get ‘er in line. Thanks for stoppin’ by, ‘m sure you’ve got a lot to get to.” With a long bunch of final goodbyes, your parents were gone, and you were left alone with a stranger. The idea pissed you off - your parents were tired of dealing with you, and instead of wiping that picture off of the internet, they decided to dump you on a random woman.

“So what exactly will I be doing here?” You said, twirling a piece of hair around your finger as you popped another bubble. “I won’t have to like… clean up animal shit, right? I just got a manicure and I didn’t pay two hundred dollars just to ruin my hands, y’know?” Sevika rolled her eyes.

“You’re gon’ do what I tell you to do. That’s the point of this lil’ apprenticeship. Your bedroom is upstairs on the right. We wake at five, feed the animals, eat, and spend the rest of the day outside.” Your jaw dropped, eyebrows knitting. Sevika could see the piece of gum chewed into your teeth.

“Five in the morning? Why on earth would I get up that early?” You scoffed, pulling your phone out again. You could hardly wait to tell Jinx about this, but halfway through your message, your phone was being snatched from your hands.

“Jus’ because your father let you get away with being a brat don’t mean that I will. This,” she waved your phone around, “is mine now. For the rest of the summer, you work for me, and you work when I work, y’hear me?” You almost wanted to laugh at her. Yeah, this definitely wasn’t going to work.

“Whatever you say, boss,” you popped yet another bubble in her face this time, mocking the title she used for your dad mere minutes ago. “Do you have people who can like, take these up for me?” You looked over at your bags and she laughed at you.

“It don’t work like that out here, darlin. You carry your own things up. Since y’r new, I’ll take one for y’a. But only one.” You groaned, grabbing one of the suitcases as she did and following her upstairs. Compared to your bedroom at home, this room was like a closet. She dropped the luggage on the floor as if it wasn’t a ten thousand dollar handmade pink set.

“Well, where I’m from, we don’t throw expensive things on the ground like animals,” you shot, picking up the suitcase. “This is so not going to work out.” Sevika rolled her eyes, disappearing down the hall for the evening. Thank god you finally got a break from her.

The next morning was like hell. She woke you up bright and early, just like she said she would, and tossed you a disgusting pair of overalls that she instructed you to put on. Not only was the outfit ugly, but she also gave you no time to do your hair and makeup before she was yelling at you to get out the door.

“I’m not touching that,” you pulled your hands back as she handed you a bucket full of god knows what. “That’s disgusting, I already told you-”

“You ain’t breakin’ a nail, I get it. Suck it up and go feed the pigs. It ain’t gonna kill y’a.” You rolled your eyes, still not taking the bucket from her hands.

“No.” Her jaw tightened, and her angry gaze fell upon you. You noticed, then, that her eyes were grey, and they shined. If you didn’t hate her guts already, you would obviously coin that they were gorgeous, like the rest of her. But you hated her guts.

“Listen here, you brat,” her accent got thicker. “I’m not any happier about this than you are. But we’re here, and my job is to set you straight. So man up and go feed the pigs.” You glared, but took the bucket regardless. She rolled her eyes as you stormed off, the heavy bucket weighing you down.

You had to admit, the pigs were quite cute, especially the small ones. But that didn’t outweigh the muck on your hands, or the fact that this jackass woman insisted that you were a brat.

-

Two weeks of absolute torture had gone by. There was no way in hell that you would keep this up, not for the whole summer. You couldn’t even get through a month, let alone four. Not to mention the woman hadn’t even hinted at the idea of giving you a break. You didn’t go out for dinner, didn’t take days off, didn’t go to clubs. It was the worst possible life of a rich city girl.

Sevika was a terrible boss. She was mean and strict and she hated everything about you, you were sure of it. However, the woman was undeniably attractive, in a terrible way. She was mean to you and it made your knees weak, she called you a brat and you thought about her taking the brat out of you. I mean, look at those arms. She could take you whenever and wherever she wanted.

You were sure, though, that this was simply because you hadn’t had sex in three weeks.

“Sev,” you wandered downstairs, crop top and shorts clinging to your body like it was life support. She was on the couch, reading the newspaper in her reading glasses like it was 1983. She looked up, eyes dancing down the curves of your figure before snapping back to her paper. “Are there any local bars? I’m thinking of going out.”

“No and no.” She grumbled. “‘s jus’ gonna land you in the same situation that got you here. You’re not doin’ that.” You sighed. Luckily, contrary to her knowledge, you knew where your phone was, and Google Maps would happily show you local bars.

Without responding, you strolled your way back upstairs, gracefully grabbing your phone and typing in bars. To your dismay, only one came up, but it didn’t matter to you. That was the one you would go to, and the thought of getting drunk gave you a buzz almost better than weed.

You planned it perfectly: Sevika went to bed early, of course, so you could easily sneak out once she was asleep. You didn’t leave your slutty clothes at home, in fact, you filled two suitcases with them, so when the day came, the glittery, pink dress that was far shorter than it should be called your name loudly. It was a v-neck, falling far into the crack of your tits, with a south Asian inspired scarf. You paired it with pink heeled boots, and pink makeup to finish the look. The night was going to be amazing, you could tell just from the outfit.

The plan started well.

Sevika went to bed, as you planned, and you were able to get out with your phone, no less. You called yourself a taxi and got to the bar without a problem, practically welcomed like a queen. You tried to tell yourself that all of the stares and hoots and free drinks were because people knew you and not because all of the old men thought that you were hot, but it was notably the latter.

You loved free drinks, at the end of the day it didn’t matter who they were from or why they were sending them. So, as the shots poured in, you were more than happy to take them, and take them and take them.

Fortunately, some strange men also paid for your food, sobering you up every couple of shots. You didn't want to be drunk when you got home, fearing that it would interrupt Sevika's sleep, and lead to her finding out that you snuck out. So, the random meals and several glasses of water allowed you to maintain a constant state of switching between sober and not sober.

You all but sobered up when the bar doors slammed open, and Sevika appeared in the middle. She came towards you, grabbed your arm, and dragged you off of the barstool. She tossed some cash on the bar and turned towards you, furious. “What the fuck were you thinking?” She hissed, grinding her teeth together.

“Sev,” you groaned, looking around at all the eyes looking at you. “Can we not do this here?” You attempted to pull your arm from her grip with no avail. Instead, she spun the two of you around, pushing you towards the door and out of the bar with the grip still right on your arm.

She didn't release you until the both of you made it into her truck, where she slammed the door in your face and got into the driver's seat. “D’you think about things before you do ‘em? At all?” She roared, pulling out of the bar. “Did you see the way those men looked at you? You coulda gotten yourself in serious trouble.” You rolled your eyes, your favorite thing to do when she was around.

“It’s not your job to police what I do. In fact, I think you’re jealous. At least I have men paying for my drinks. You wish.” She practically cackled at that, and your already lame comeback made you feel even smaller. You were sure Sevika didn’t even like men, especially when you were digging through one of her drawers looking for your phone and stumbled across some interesting magazines.

“If I wanted that, I could have that, and y’know it, peach. This ain’t about me, though. Get your ass in line or I’m tellin’ your daddy to leave you out here, ‘nd you know he will.” The thought of staying here any longer than you had to made you want to tear your hair out. Maybe the thought alone was enough to keep you in line. She pulled into the driveway and turned the car off, turning to you with a sigh. “Don’t do that shit again. ’m not like your parents, ’m not writin’ off y’r dumbass choices.”

“Let me go out then, for the love of god. Drinking won’t kill me.” You turned your attention to your hand, picking at your nail. “Not to mention, I haven’t had sex in weeks. Weeks! I could’ve checked that box tonight and you wouldn’t have had to deal with me like this anymore.” She was clearly unamused, wide lips remaining downturned.

“You’re actin’ the same way now that you do all the time; like a fuckin’ brat. Go inside and go to bed, for god’s sake.” She popped her door open and got out, slamming the door behind her. You waited a moment before following her, still angry from her slew of comments throughout the evening.

“Maybe it’s your fault,” you said when you stepped into the home, “you’re the one who’s mean to me, taking my things, making fun of my clothes. You’re a fucking jackass. I have no reason to listen to you. Full grown adult, remember?” You sneered, gesturing up and down your body.

“I did what I was told. Take a fuckin’ chill pill. I ain’t gon’ stand here arguin’ with you, it’s a waste of time.” She began to walk past you and you grabbed her arm, pulling as hard as you could. She was significantly larger and stronger than you, so you weren’t surprised when your efforts made little difference.

“You don’t get to just walk away in the middle of an important conversation! Stop being a fuckin-” She turned quickly, large body almost caging you against the wall. If you wanted to, it wouldn’t be hard for you to simply go left or right and move away from her. But now, her body was close, and warmth was bouncing between the two of you, and well, the same need from earlier came back.

“Stop.” She demanded, tone low. Her chest rose and fell quickly, as if talking to you was the most taxing thing on this earth. She stood there for more than a moment, eyes drilled into yours with an innate sense of fury. This was her breaking point. She wondered how long it would take when she first met you. You were driving her fucking insane.

“Make me.” You spat, angrily. She almost did. Truly. Well, until you did it for her.

She backed up and you followed her, chasing her heat. Before you knew it, the cotton of her shirt was in your hands and you were clumsily pulling her forward, pressing up on your toes until your mouth was pressed against hers. By some miracle, she didn’t fight it. Her large hands cupped your face, pulling you in and pressed her lips harshly to yours.

She wasted no time before she was running her tongue along your lips and pushing it into your mouth, knees practically weak when you moaned like a fucking slut. She wasn’t especially gentle when she pushed you against the wall behind you, but her tongue down your throat and her knee between your legs made up for it.

Your hands begged to run down her figure, but you weren’t exactly in the position to take control, so you instead placed them around her neck, pulling on the short hair on the back of it. Her hands met your hips, pinning you to the wall so that you wouldn’t grind against her. You pulled back from her lips, meeting her angry eyes once again before dropping your lips to her neck, sucking a dark hickey into it.

“Fuck,” she groaned, “‘course you like trashy shit like this.” she continued as you left several more. Your hands dragged down her front, finding her chest promptly. “Upstairs, now.” She pulled back from you, but you grabbed her hand and pulled her behind you. You had only been in her room briefly to acquire your phone, so the details of it had never been your focus. But now, you focused on the purple color of her sheets and the ambiance of it.

Like a pornstar, you pushed her back onto the bed, slipping your dress over her head and finding purchase in her lap. Her hand ran along your stomach, admiring your body briefly before closing her eyes. “This isn’t right, darlin’. ‘m too mad, and I promised y’r daddy I would get you straight.” You giggled.

“I like mad.” you insisted, tugging your lip between your teeth and grinding your hips into her, urging her to open her eyes. You leaned in, warm breath hitting her ear. “Put me in my place?” You squealed when she lifted you up and flipped you, trapping you under her.

“You ain’t gonna get what you want from this. ‘m gon’ fuck some sense into that pretty head, huh?” You nodded, smiling too wide to focus on anything she was saying. You were a fucking airhead, god, there were so many things she wanted to do to you.

You didn’t have anything but a cheap pair of panties under the dress, meaning that she had spent the last several minutes attempting to focus on anything that wasn’t your tits. But now? Now her mouth was blessing your left nipple, tugging it into her mouth and sucking, pinning you down with a hand on your lower stomach once again. She wanted to fuck the shit out of you, sure, but you weren’t getting what you wanted any time soon.

She switched tits, kneading the other with her palm. As she sucked, her fingers pulled at your nipple, creating the perfect combination of soft and rough. You were moaning like a bitch in heat, and she adored it. You were so fucking easy, letting her in your pants like it wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t long before she was kissing her way down to your panties, keeping eye contact with you as she did it. She looked like an animal hunting its prey, and the prey was you. You realized, then, that she had you exactly where she wanted you.

You knew you were in for it when she took a fat lick from the bottom of your cunt to the top, over your panties. You whined, back arching off the bed as your head fell back. She planned to eat you over your panties until you cried and begged for her, but she couldn’t take it. You were soaked through, like floodgates opened between your legs, and she needed you.

She pulled your panties down your legs, pushing your thighs apart until you were fully on display for her. “She’s so pretty, isn’t she?” she mocked, not breaking her gaze on your pussy. She leaned in, hands dropping to the backs of your thighs, and pressed a kiss to your clit. Your hips twitched and you whined again, lacing one of your hands in her hair.

She ate you like the world was ending.

Her tongue blessed all the pretty places that you needed it, flicking against your clit and fucking into you, sucking up every last drop that you had. She loved it, loved the way you moaned and twitched and begged for her to not stop, never stop. You were halfway to your orgasm and she pulled up, looking as if she was in an absolute daze.

“Gon’ make you a housewife, baby. Eat this pussy whenever I want, how’s that sound? Fuck, look at you,” her middle finger circled your entrance, gathering all of her spit and your slick. You sucked her in as she pushed it in knuckle by knuckle, and she swore she blacked out. “Pretty girl just needed the snob fucked out of her, didn’t you?” you could’ve cried when she added another finger, crooking them up into the perfect spot. “Answer me, slut.”

“Yes, yes,” you cried, “please, whenever you want.” She grinned, like this was the best day of her life. With two fingers pumping in you, she kept her mouth busy on your clit, sucking hard until you were quite literally crying, tears streaming down your face as your stomach twisted.

You clenched down hard on her fingers and she pulled them out, stopping everything. You whined, lifting your hips to chase her. “Bad girls don’t get to come. Open,” she tapped your bottom lip and you did as told, taking her wet fingers in your mouth. She couldn’t stand you, couldn’t stand the way you squirmed and pushed your thighs together as you sucked her fingers, knowing that it made you so wet. “Lay across my lap, yeah, good girl.”

Notably, her kind sense of security was short lived once you were across her lap.

“Count. If you stop counting we start over, y’understand?” You nodded, unsure of what was about to happen until her mech hand came in harsh against your left ass cheek. You squeaked, hurling forward and gripping the sheets. “What’d I say, peach? Gonna count or get hit?”

“One,” you whimpered, crying out again when her hand came down on the other side. It felt so good. “Two,” she went back and forth until your ass was beet red, and you got to a sparse ten. You almost asked her to keep going, but with the way your cunt was drooling on her lap, she couldn’t possibly keep going.

“Up,” she instructed, tapping your ass twice. “Face the mirror, ass up, tits down.” You giggled again, knowing exactly what was coming. Doggy was probably your favorite position, but doggy facing a mirror had to be heaven on earth.

By the time you got your shit together enough to do as told, she was already back, pajama pants stripped and harness clinging to her hips. Sevika had the body of a god, truthfully. You had always gotten wet over her arms, but her abs and her hips were nothing less than god-like. All of her was simply perfect.

The strap hanging from the harness wasn’t anything like something you had seen or taken before. It was long and wide, with veins to detail. She had lube in one hand, from what you could see over your shoulder, but you couldn’t see what was in the other. She climbed up on the bed, kneeling behind you as she placed her series of materials down. First, she took your wrists and pinned them behind your back with a pair of silk handcuffs, and then she lubed up her strap until it was ready for you.

Gods, she could’ve come on spot when she teased your entrance with the tip. You moaned like a fucking whore, rocking back into her as your cunt begged. The tip alone had your eyes rolling back in your head, and your state didn’t improve as she continued pushing. “Sev,” you whined, “it won’t fit, ‘s too big,” you cried out, and she laughed at you.

“You’ll make it fit, won’t you, bunny? Yeah, you will.” And, well, you did. The strap hit its hilt, filling you to the absolute brim. Watching your pussy stretch around her dick had to be the best thing she’d ever seen. “Fuck, peach, knew you were trouble but I didn’t think you’d be such a whore, too.” She placed her large palm on your back, pressing down on your shoulder blades so that your back arched as far as it could.

She moved slowly, head thrown back as she listened to the noises you made. Not only were you moaning out of your mind, but your cunt squelched with every thrust, wetting her hips as your skin slapped together. The scene in the mirror was obscene, filthy even. You looked like a whore, jaw slacked and eyes in the back of your head as she plowed into you.

However, it all got dramatically worse when she pulled you up, so that you kneeled in front of her as she fucked you. Her large arm wrapped around your throat, bicep digging into your windpipe. Your hands wrapped around her arm, but in comparison, they were small. She held you like that until your brain got fuzzy, unrelenting in her pace. She used her free hand on your clit, rubbing it just the way you needed.

“Y’r so fuckin’ full, sweet girl. See that in y’r belly? ‘s my dick.” You could see it, the way her strap poked out in your stomach with every thrust of her hips. Filthy. It was the only way to describe it. “God, imagine if I could jus’ have you whenever I wanted you,” her arm loosened around your throat, but instead of pushing you back down, she pressed two fingers into your mouth.

Sevika could hardly deal with the sight of you. She had already come once, most definitely, but the vision of you in front of her could make her come again on command. You were so fucked out, so pliant. So willing to do whatever she wanted. “What’d y’r parents think if they saw you like this, huh? What if I fill you up, get you pregnant?” You could’ve screamed, but a loud whimper was the best she got.

She pulled her fingers from her mouth and bent you back over, grabbing your hips rather than pressing between your shoulder blades. “Please,” you begged, “please get me pregnant,” she threw her head back yet again, orgasm building in her stomach. “Please, please please, fill me up, Vika, please,” she groaned as she came against the back of the harness, hips stuttering and abs flexing.

“Gonna fill you up and make you a mommy, ain’t that right, pretty baby?” You moaned again, too gone for words. Tears streamed down your face as her pace started again, unrelenting yet again. She fucked into you so hard that the bedframe shook, and soon enough, that familiar feeling was developing in your stomach. “‘m gon’ stuff you full of my dick everyday, shit,”

You screamed when you came, and it got a million times better when a warm liquid filled you, making it feel like Sevika had, in fact, filled you up. When she pulled out of you, she almost came again. Your cum and hers dripped from your hole down your cunt, and she watched you twitch and drool into the bedsheets.

She was going to clean you up, of course, but your pussy had her fucking entranced.She knew she was fucked, she knew there wasn’t ever going to be a moment moving forward where she didn’t want you on her face. And now, every time you acted up, she could fuck you into oblivion.

She got you cleaned up and in clean clothes, tucked into her bed with her, head on her chest. “That get you in line?” She joked, brushing hair off of your face.

“I don’t know, maybe we’ll have to go again for good measure.” You teased, pressing your nose into her jaw as your lips found her neck again. You left a couple more hickies on the side of her neck that you didn’t hit earlier and she chuckled.

“Why’d’ya like those so much? Looks a little trashy to me.” You sighed. Of course it did, it was a younger group thing, and she was not in your age range.

“Jus’ makin’ what’s mine.” You giggled. She laughed with you, until you were both laughing. Maybe this arrangement wasn’t going to be as bad as you thought it would be.

tags: @ferxanda @skullsbown @watashiwaglr38 @angelllbabyy @rbnvrnxoxo @sweetnfemme @abbyanderswife @ellieshothousewife @2sosa @averysmorgue @ivorydevil @bunbunpudding @beatdariceee @that-one-daydream-you-forgot @jennylettersonsgf @furrytaesss @sunflowerwinds @ghost-queen101 @prettyyyy-girl

[blumineck]

Calling all artists, animators, and fans of fun and useful pose references! In 2 weeks time I will be taking part in @adorkastock & Friends' MASSIVE Group Poses for Artists Shoot.

We've got a bunch of models of different sizes and shapes, more props than you can shake a stick at (including bows, a pole and a POOL), and two full days of shooting to get as many reference photos as we possibly can. It's gonna be awesome, and there will be some PHENOMENAL references coming out of this.

If you'd like to pre-order Photo packs, you have until the 25th October. Get them here:

In the meantime, as a taster, here are some of the photos from last time I collaborated with @null-entity (who's also part of this project!) Enjoy!

(You can find the rest of these sets in my Patreon Shop)

[dragon-in-spirit]

You can tell the Stardew community has been chomping at the bit for 1.6 and all the changes it makes to modding by the fact that the update has been out for less than 12 hours and already a huge number of mods have been updated to it or newly released that rely on the new functionality

[cloudtransprncy]

Purr

Wonyoung X Male Reader | 5700 words Tags: Hookup, backshots, manhandling, rough, hot as fuck, WAP

White ears, pink ribbons, and an invitation to find out what this kitty does behind closed doors.

The house is packed. Bodies everywhere. Bass so heavy it makes your drink ripple in its plastic cup. Some frat's Halloween party where the costumes get lazier and the drinks stronger as the night stretches on. You've forgotten whose place this even is. Friend of a friend of a roommate, maybe.

You lost your friends about an hour ago—last saw them heading toward the keg in the kitchen, now they're ghosts in the digital ether, not answering texts. So you've been wandering, drink in hand, caught in the limbo of being alone in a crowded room.

You adjust your half-assed cowboy hat—the only real evidence of your last-minute costume besides the checkered shirt and boots you already owned.

Four drinks in and the world has that pleasant blur around the edges, like someone's applied a subtle filter to reality.

That's when you see her.

She's leaning against a metal railing at the edge of the makeshift dance floor, surrounded by three equally stunning friends. They're all laughing at something on someone's phone, heads bent together in that conspiratorial way that creates an invisible force field. One gloved hand wrapped around the bannister, posed in a way that seems both accidental and perfectly calculated. White cat ears with pink ribbons perched on dark hair that falls straight down her back. Her makeup is precise—eyeliner sharp enough to cut, blush high on her cheekbones, lips glossed pink. There's something distinct about her features—delicate but arresting, wide eyes that seem to absorb everything while revealing nothing.

Her outfit is simple but effective. White halter top. Pink satin skirt. Thigh-high black boots. Pink gloves past her elbows. Her body creates a silhouette that doesn't seem entirely real, like she was drawn rather than born.

She watches the crowd with this expression—not quite boredom, not quite amusement—like she's mentally captioning everyone's photos with comments they'd never want to read.

Then her eyes catch yours.

And they stay there.

You drain your drink. It's more for something to do with your hands than courage, but it serves both purposes. As you watch, a group of guys in basketball jerseys approach her circle. There's some back and forth, laughter, and then her friends are peeling away, following the guys toward the kitchen. She stays behind, waving them off with a dismissive flick of her gloved hand.

Perfect timing. You push through the crowd toward her, bumping shoulders with strangers who've already forgotten you exist before you've passed them.

Her eyes track you the whole way. She doesn't pretend she wasn't looking. When you reach her, she straightens slightly. The movement is subtle but deliberate, like everything else about her seems to be.

"And what exactly are you supposed to be?" You gesture vaguely at her outfit.

She blinks slowly, a half-second too long to be natural. "I'm a slutty cat," she says, voice softer than expected but somehow cutting through the music. "Can't you tell?"

You look at her again, taking your time now that you have permission. "I see the ears. But I don't know if that explains"—your eyes move down deliberately—"everything else."

She doesn't react to your gaze the way most would. No embarrassed laugh, no looking away. If anything, she seems to catalog your reaction, filing it away for later reference.

"And you're... what? A cowboy?" She reaches up, adjusting your hat with one gloved finger, letting it linger just long enough to make a point. "A little basic, don't you think?"

"Last minute," you admit. "Not all of us plan our slutty animal costumes weeks in advance."

She laughs—genuinely, you think. It sounds different than the practiced social laugh most people deploy at parties. "Maybe you need to get closer to appreciate the details," she says, voice dropping into something more private.

You step in. Close enough to notice things. The expensive perfume that probably costs more than your monthly coffee budget. The tiny rhinestones at the corners of her eyes that catch the light when she blinks. The almost imperceptible chip in her nail polish on her left index finger—the only flaw in an otherwise flawless presentation.

"I don't even know your name, cat girl."

"Wonyoung," she offers, gaze alternating between your eyes and mouth with scientific precision.

"Wonyoung," you repeat. "I'm—"

"Doesn't matter," she interrupts, something playful but challenging in her expression. "Tonight's not about names."

The directness catches you off guard in a way that makes your pulse quicken. You place your hand on the railing beside her hip, close but not touching. A question.

"No? What's tonight about then?"

She considers you, teeth briefly catching her bottom lip in a gesture that seems both calculated and unconscious.

"Alright, cowboy. Dream date vibes—go," she says, leaning in with playful curiosity in her eyes.

You grin casually. "Oh you know... some Boba, then some backshots."

Her eyes widen before she erupts into genuine laughter, head thrown back. "Oh wow! Honestly, I respect it." She leans in teasingly. "But I don't think you're hot enough to be saying shit like that."

"Oh, so you are checking me out?" You raise an eyebrow, amused.

She tries to suppress a smile, gives a playful scoff. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Too late—you already laughed." You smirk, stepping closer.

"It was a pity laugh," she says, biting her lip, playfully defensive. "I felt bad."

"Nah, you're a bad liar. I'm definitely your type."

There's a beat. The music pulses between you, bass dropping on some remix everyone will forget by morning. She glances down, then back up, eyes mischievous.

"Alright, fine. You're halfway to my type."

"What's the other half?" you ask.

Her voice drops lower, as she traces her fingers lightly down your arm. "Someone who can handle me."

"I can," you say, voice low, matching her energy.

She smiles, fingers tangling with yours, pulling you closer. "Let's see if you're all talk, then. My place is 10 minutes from here, and you saw my roommates leave with some guys so..."

The bass drops. The crowd surges. Bodies push and her body presses against yours for a moment. Something clicks into place. Simple chemistry. Complex consequences.

Her eyes widen slightly, then narrow with purpose. You've both just recognized something neither of you has named yet.

You look at her—really look at her—and wonder briefly about the reality that exists beyond this moment. The classes she attends. The coffee she drinks in the morning. The books on her nightstand. All the ordinary things that make up a life outside of this charged exchange.

But tonight isn't about that. Tonight is about following the electric current between two bodies and seeing where it leads.

"Lead the way," you say.

...

You don't even remember the Uber ride.

Just fragments. Her thigh against yours. Her mouth hot on your neck. "God, I want you," whispered against your ear, not caring if the driver heard. Her gloved fingers slipping under your shirt, tracing your stomach, then lower. Her climbing halfway onto your lap, skirt riding up, while the driver pretended not to notice.

"God, I can't wait to get you alone," she'd breathed against your mouth, her tongue sliding against yours again, tasting like cherry and tequila and bad decisions you'd never regret.

All you know is that now you're in her bedroom, and Wonyoung is on her knees on the edge of her mattress, those glossy lips stretched around your cock while you stand before her.

Her room is a trip—glow-in-the-dark stars scattered across the ceiling, walls plastered with posters and polaroids, fairy lights strung around her bed frame casting everything in a soft pink glow. A Hello Kitty plushie stares at you from the pillow. The contrast between the cutesy bedroom and what she's doing to you right now is fucking with your head in the best way.

"Holy fuck," you breathe, watching her take you deeper.

The cat ears are still perched on her head, though slightly askew now. Her pink gloves are soaked with spit, one hand wrapped around what she can't fit in her mouth, the other cupping and squeezing your balls. The satin fabric against your skin feels unreal—slick but with just enough friction to make your knees weak.

Spit drips down her chin, pooling on her white top. Her lipgloss is destroyed, smeared across her lips and your cock. She pulls back, just enough to swirl her tongue around the head before taking you deep again, making a show of it.

"Get on the bed," she says, pulling off with a wet pop, voice raspy in a way that makes your dick throb. "I'm not done with you."

You climb onto her pastel sheets, pushing aside a few stuffed animals. She's on you immediately, shoving you back against the pillows, her body lithe but surprisingly strong for someone so small. The way your hands practically span her entire waist is a heady reminder of how delicate she is compared to you.

"Stay still," she orders, straddling your thighs, then lowering her mouth back to your cock. Your hands find her shoulders, feeling how narrow they are beneath your palms, how fragile her collarbones seem under your fingers.

She takes you deeper this time, relaxing her throat around you. The wet heat of her mouth is almost too much. You reach for her head, but she grabs your wrists, pinning them to the bed on either side of your hips. The look she gives you from under her lashes is pure power—this tiny girl somehow in complete control despite her size.

"Fuck, you're strong," you murmur, testing her grip and finding yourself genuinely restrained.

She pulls off just long enough to say, "Don't underestimate me just because I'm small," before sinking back down, taking you impossibly deep for her size. The contrast of her petite frame handling all of you makes your head spin.

"Fuck, your mouth," you groan, watching her cheeks hollow as she sucks harder.

She pulls off completely with a wet gasp, a thick strand of saliva connecting her lips to your cock. She takes a deep breath, then deliberately lets a string of spit fall from her mouth onto your shaft, using it to stroke you with one gloved hand while maintaining eye contact. The sight alone nearly makes you cum.

"You like it messy?" she asks, her voice husky, already knowing the answer.

Before you can respond, she swallows you down again, taking you impossibly deep in one fluid motion. Her throat constricts around you as she holds there for several seconds, nose pressed against your pelvis, before pulling back with a desperate inhale. Saliva runs down your length in rivulets now, soaking into the sheets beneath you, dripping down to coat your balls.

She establishes a rhythm that's driving you insane—deep, gurgling strokes with her mouth while her gloved hand follows, twisting slightly on the upstroke. Her other hand massages your balls, now slick with her spit. The wet sounds are obscene, sloppy and loud in the quiet bedroom.

"Wait," you gasp, feeling the pressure building, "I'm getting close."

She doesn't slow down. Instead, she somehow intensifies her efforts, one hand working your shaft in perfect sync with her mouth, the other pressing firmly behind your balls in a way that makes your vision blur. Your muscles tense, toes curling against the sheets as you fight the building pressure. You want this to last, but her technique is unreal.

She pulls off suddenly with a gasping inhale, strands of spit connecting her mouth to your cock in a spider web pattern. Without missing a beat, her gloved hand maintains the rhythm, now twisting on each upstroke, her thumb circling the sensitive spot just under the head.

"Not yet," she says, her voice raw and husky. "I want to play with you longer."

She looks up at you through mascara-smudged lashes, face flushed, hair clinging to her sweat-dampened skin, and you've never seen anything more erotic in your life. Her lips are puffy and red, glistening with a mixture of spit and pre-cum. She licks them deliberately before taking another deep breath and swallowing you down again.

This time she does something with her throat—a controlled swallowing motion while you're deep inside—that has you seeing stars. Your hips buck involuntarily, but she takes it, accommodating your thrust with practiced ease. Her nose presses against your pelvis as she holds you there, throat contracting rhythmically around your head. The pressure and heat are unreal.

She keeps you on edge like this—bringing you close with intense deep-throating, then backing off to focus on your shaft with her hands or gently sucking just the tip—for what feels like an eternity. Your breathing is ragged, sweat beading on your forehead as you struggle to hold back. Your hands fist in her hair, not guiding anymore but just holding on for dear life.

The sheets beneath you are soaked with her saliva, your thighs slick and shiny in the dim light. She seems to revel in the mess, deliberately letting spit run down your length, using it as lubrication for her gloved hands. The wet, sloppy sounds of her mouth and hands working in tandem fill the room, punctuated by her gasping breaths and your strangled moans.

Just when you think you can't take anymore, when the teasing edge has become almost painful, she takes you deep again, her throat working around you with purpose.

"Fuck, now I'm really gonna cum," you warn, your voice strained and desperate.

This time, she doesn't back off. Instead, she looks up at you with determination in her eyes, maintaining that crucial eye contact as she takes you deeper than before. One hand grips the base of your shaft firmly, the other massages your balls with precise pressure. She swallows deliberately around the head of your cock, her tongue pressed flat against the underside, hitting that perfect spot.

You lose it, your release hitting the back of her throat in hot, heavy pulses. There's so much that some escapes the corners of her mouth despite her best efforts to swallow it all. She doesn't stop or slow down, continuing to work you with her mouth and hands through your orgasm, extending the pleasure to almost unbearable levels.

Her throat works visibly as she gulps down your release, making obscene swallowing sounds that only intensify your pleasure. Her eyes water from the effort, mascara beginning to run in faint streaks down her flushed cheeks, but she never breaks eye contact. There's a look of triumph in her gaze, a satisfaction at reducing you to this trembling, groaning mess beneath her.

When your orgasm finally subsides and you're twitching with oversensitivity, she slowly, deliberately pulls away. Thick strings of spit and cum stretch between her lips and your cock, forming an obscene web that breaks and falls across her chin and neck. Her hand continues to stroke you gently, milking the last few drops from you.

She sits back on her heels, breath coming in heavy pants, lips dramatically swollen, chin and chest glistening with a mixture of saliva and the cum that escaped her mouth. Her cat ears are somehow still hanging on, though now sitting at a rakish angle on her disheveled hair. The gloves that once were pristine pink satin are now darkened with wetness in places, sticky and slick.

"Holy fuck," you breathe, genuinely stunned by what just happened. Your cock is still hard, barely softened by the intense orgasm.

She notices, a knowing smirk spreading across her messy face as she wipes her chin with the back of her hand. "Told you I wasn't done with you yet," she says, her voice absolutely wrecked in the sexiest possible way, rough and raspy from the workout her throat just got.

She reaches behind her, unzipping her white halter top and pulling it over her head. Her breasts are small but perfect, nipples pink and hard in the cool air. The cat ears wobble but stay in place.

"You're so fucking hot," you tell her, reaching for her waist.

She stretches, arms extending above her head, back arching in a way that's distinctly feline. Her small breasts lift with the motion, nipples hardening in the cool air. Her eyes hold a challenge as she slowly moves toward you.

"I want your mouth on me," she says, her voice husky with need.

Instead of letting her climb over you, you suddenly sit up, grabbing her by the waist. She gasps in surprise as you flip your positions, pushing her down onto the mattress with firm hands. Her eyes widen, pupils dilating at your show of strength.

"Is that what you want?" you ask, your voice low as you hover over her. Your hands easily pin her wrists above her head, one of yours enough to hold both of hers. "Tell me again."

"Yes," she breathes, arching into you despite being restrained. "Please."

You release her wrists and move down her body, deliberately taking your time. Your hands slide along her sides, feeling how tiny she is beneath you. When you reach her thighs, you push them apart without gentleness, making space for your shoulders. She moans at the manhandling, her head falling back against the pillows.

You hook your fingers into her thong, pulling it to the side rather than removing it. The first thing that hits you is her scent—musky and sweet with a hint of sweat from dancing all night, but undeniably arousing. There's a faint trace of her perfume mixed with the raw smell of her arousal that makes your mouth water.

"Fuck, you smell good," you tell her, your breath hot against her inner thigh.

She's already wet, her folds glistening in the dim light. You study her for a moment—she's pink and swollen, clearly aroused. She's shaved but you can see and feel the slight roughness of hair starting to grow back. The texture is oddly intimate, more real than porn-perfect smoothness, the slight stubble creating friction against your fingers as you trace her outer lips.

You start slowly, just running your tongue along her seam, tasting her properly. She's tangy and sweet, with a hint of salt from the night's exertions. The flavor is addictive, making you groan against her. Her hips buck at the vibration, seeking more contact.

"Oh fuck," she gasps when you finally circle her clit with your tongue. Her hands find your hair, fingers tangling in it but not directing, just holding on.

You explore her with your tongue, discovering which motions make her thighs tremble, which spots make her breath catch. You alternate between broad, flat strokes and focused attention on her clit, learning what she responds to best.

"Please," she whimpers after a few minutes of this teasing. "I need more."

You slide one finger inside her while continuing to work with your tongue. She's incredibly tight, her inner walls gripping your digit eagerly. The contrast between your larger hand and her small body is stark—one finger feels substantial inside her.

"More," she urges, lifting her hips toward your face.

You add a second finger, feeling her stretch around the intrusion. You curl them upward, searching for that spot that will drive her wild. When you find it, her reaction is immediate and dramatic—her back arches off the bed, a strangled cry escaping her lips.

"There," she gasps, her hands now gripping the sheets beside her head. "Right fucking there."

She's watching you now, propped up slightly on her elbows, her gaze heavy-lidded but intense. The sight of you between her legs seems to turn her on almost as much as what you're doing to her. When your eyes meet, she bites her lip, a flush spreading across her chest.

You maintain eye contact as you suck her clit gently while stroking that spot inside her. Her breathing quickens, her stomach muscles visibly tensing with each curl of your fingers. Her wetness increases, running down your palm and wrist.

"Don't stop," she pleads, one hand reaching down to touch your shoulder, nails digging into your skin. "I'm getting close."

You increase the pressure of your tongue, maintaining a steady rhythm as her breathing becomes more erratic. You can feel her inner walls beginning to flutter around your fingers—the first signs of her approaching orgasm.

She reaches down with her free hand, spreading herself wider for you, giving you better access. The gesture is incredibly erotic—her taking an active role in her pleasure while still letting you control the pace.

"Just like that," she encourages, voice tight with building tension. "Don't change anything, please, I'm so close."

Her thighs start to tremble, her hips making small, involuntary movements against your face. You curl your fingers more firmly against that spot, sucking her clit with slightly more pressure, and that's what pushes her over the edge.

You feel her start to tense, her thighs trembling on either side of your head. The inner walls of her pussy clench rhythmically around your fingers as her breathing becomes shallow and rapid. You maintain your rhythm, not changing a thing as her orgasm builds.

"Right there, right there," she chants, her voice tight and desperate. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna—"

She cuts herself off with a sharp gasp as her body goes rigid, suspended on the edge for several breathless seconds. Then she shatters, her back arching dramatically off the bed, thighs clamping around your head with surprising strength. Her release floods your hand and chin, her wetness increasing dramatically as she comes undone.

"Don't stop, don't stop," she begs as waves of pleasure roll through her. Her hands fist in the sheets, knuckles white with tension. Her stomach muscles contract visibly with each pulse, her entire body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm.

You work her through it, continuing to stroke that spot inside while gently sucking her clit, feeling each aftershock ripple through her slender frame. Her pussy grips your fingers in rhythmic spasms, pulling them deeper as if trying to keep you inside.

Only when she weakly pushes at your forehead, oversensitive and spent, do you finally relent. You plant a soft kiss on her inner thigh before gently withdrawing your fingers, watching her twitch at even that small movement. Your hand and chin are soaked with her arousal, glistening in the dim light.

She collapses back, chest heaving, limbs splayed across the pastel sheets. Her skin is flushed pink from her cheeks down to her chest, a thin sheen of sweat making her glow in the dim light. Her thong is still pushed to the side, her pussy visibly swollen and wet from your attention.

"Holy shit," she breathes, one arm thrown across her eyes. "Give me a second."

But even as she's still recovering, you're already hard again—painfully so. The sight of her completely undone by your mouth and hands has your cock throbbing with need.

Before she can fully catch her breath, you flip her over onto her stomach in one smooth motion. She gasps in surprise but immediately pushes her ass up, instinctively assuming the position. She looks back at you over her shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded but gleaming with renewed interest.

"Harder," she says, her voice still breathless. "You can be rough with me."

You grab a handful of her hair, pulling her head back slightly as you lean down to bite the sensitive junction between her neck and shoulder. She moans, the sound vibrating through her slender frame. Her nails dig into the sheets, bunching the fabric in her fists.

"Yes," she hisses, pushing back against you, her ass rubbing against your hard cock. "Like that."

You trail bites and kisses down her spine, feeling each vertebra under your lips. Your hands grip her narrow waist, fingers easily spanning her sides. The pink skirt is still bunched around her waist, exposing her perfect ass and the thong still pushed to the side.

You grab the thin fabric of her thong and rip it off in one motion. She gasps, then laughs, the sound quickly turning into a moan as you push two fingers back inside her from this new angle.

"Fuck," she breathes, her back arching deeper, presenting herself to you even more. "Your fingers feel so good."

You curl your fingers upward, finding that spot again easily. Her reaction is immediate—her whole body shudders, a string of curses falling from her lips. You add a third finger, stretching her, watching her face twist in pleasure as she looks back at you.

"You're so fucking tight," you tell her, feeling her clench around your fingers. The view from behind is intoxicating—her slender back dipping into a perfect arch, pink skirt still bunched around her waist, her face half-turned so you can see her reactions.

"I want to feel you inside me," she says, voice husky with need, pushing back against your hand. "Now."

You position yourself behind her, one hand on her hip, the other guiding your cock to her entrance. From this angle, you can see how tiny she looks beneath you, her waist narrow enough for your hands to nearly encircle it, her ass perfectly round and invitingly raised.

"You're so fucking wet," you murmur, sliding your length through her folds to coat yourself in her arousal.

"Please," she whimpers, pushing back against you. "I need you inside me."

"Ask nicely," you tease, holding the head of your cock at her entrance but not pushing in.

She looks back at you over her shoulder, eyes narrowed despite her vulnerable position. "Please fuck me," she says, but it sounds more like a demand than a plea. "I need to feel all of you inside me."

You push into her slowly, watching your cock disappear into her inch by inch. Her mouth falls open, a low moan escaping as she's stretched around you. The view is intoxicating—her back arched deeply, her skirt bunched around her waist, her long dark hair spilling across the pastel sheets, and your much larger frame positioned behind her smaller one.

When you're fully seated inside her, you both let out a shaky breath. She feels impossibly tight from this angle, her inner walls gripping you like a vise.

"Fuck, you're deep," she gasps, reaching back to grab your thigh, urging you to move.

You start with slow, shallow thrusts, watching her reactions carefully. Her fingers dig into the sheets, her face half-buried in the pillow but turned enough that you can see her expressions. Each time you push in, her features twist with a mixture of pleasure and sweet strain.

"Harder," she breathes, pushing back to meet your thrusts. "I won't break."

You tighten your grip on her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as you pick up the pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin joins the chorus of her moans and your heavy breathing, filling the dimly lit bedroom. Her cat ears have somehow managed to stay on through everything, wobbling with each thrust.

You lean forward, pressing your chest against her back, one hand sliding around to her throat. You don't squeeze, just apply gentle pressure, feeling her pulse race beneath your palm. Her reaction is immediate—a full-body shudder and a tightening around your cock that nearly makes you lose control.

"Yes," she hisses, reaching back to grab your hip, encouraging you to go harder, deeper. "Fuck me like you mean it."

You pull your hand away from her throat only to deliver a sharp slap to her ass. The sound echoes in the room, followed immediately by her gasping moan. A pink handprint blooms on her pale skin, and you follow it with another slap to the other cheek.

"Again," she demands, her voice rough with desire. "Harder."

You comply, bringing your hand down with more force. She cries out, her inner walls clenching around you in response. The contrast between the delicate curve of her body and the harsh sound of your palm connecting with her skin is intoxicating.

You pull her upright, her back to your chest, your cock still deep inside her. With one hand, you gather her long hair, pulling it aside to expose the slender column of her neck. Your lips find her skin, tasting salt and the lingering sweetness of her perfume as you drag your tongue from the curve of her shoulder up to just behind her ear.

"Oh god," she moans, her head falling back against your shoulder, giving you better access.

You continue exploring her with your mouth—the nape of her neck, the sensitive spot where her shoulder meets her throat, the delicate ridge of her spine. Your free hand slides up her torso to cup one small breast, thumb circling her nipple as you lick a path across her shoulder blade.

She turns her face toward you as much as she can, and you lean in, gathering saliva in your mouth before letting it fall onto her parted lips. Her tongue darts out to catch it, a primal gesture that makes your cock throb inside her.

"Fuck, that's hot," she breathes, her pupils blown wide.

The headboard knocks rhythmically against the wall now as you guide her back down to her hands and knees, but neither of you care about the noise. Her moans get higher, more desperate, her body trembling beneath yours as you drive into her with increasing intensity. You can feel her starting to tighten around you, the first telltale signs of her approaching orgasm.

You reach around her slender body, your hand finding her clit, circling it in time with your thrusts. She cries out, a sharp, broken sound that tells you you've hit exactly the right combination.

"Right there," she gasps, her voice strained. "God, don't stop."

You maintain the rhythm, the pressure, the angle—everything that's working for her. Her inner walls flutter around you, gripping you tighter with each thrust. She's close, so close you can feel it in the way her body tenses beneath yours.

"I'm gonna cum," she warns, her voice breaking on the last word. "Fuck, I'm so close—"

"Look at me," you demand, tugging her hair to turn her face toward you. Her eyes meet yours, glazed with pleasure but focused on you. "I want to see you when you cum."

That does it. She breaks apart beneath you, her body clenching around yours so tightly it almost hurts. A string of curses and broken moans falls from her lips as she comes undone. You can see every emotion cross her face—the initial shock, the overwhelming pleasure, the surrender. Her thighs tremble violently, her entire body quaking with the force of her orgasm.

The visual of her coming apart combined with the rhythmic grip of her body around your cock pushes you right to the edge. You're seconds away from your own release.

She senses it, somehow aware even through her own pleasure. "Wait," she gasps, reaching back to stop your movements. "Not yet."

Before you can react, she's wriggling away from you, turning around to face you. Despite having just experienced an intense orgasm, she moves with surprising agility, pushing you onto your back and straddling your thighs.

"I want you to cover me in your cum," she says, her voice raw and desperate, eyes wild with desire despite her recent release. "All over my face."

She leans down, taking you into her mouth again, tasting herself on your cock. The sight of her—flushed and sweaty from her orgasm, cat ears somehow still clinging to her head, eagerly sucking you after you've been inside her—is almost too much.

That's all it takes. You pull out quickly, one hand stroking yourself as she positions herself, her back against the pillows, cat ears still somehow clinging to her head as she looks up at you eagerly.

Her hands grip your thighs as you stroke yourself once, twice, three times before exploding across her face.

The sight is fucking obscene—ropes of white painting her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, one streak catching on her long lashes. She moans as it hits her, tongue darting out to taste what landed on her lips, eyes never leaving yours. A few drops land on the rhinestone necklace still around her neck, creating an obscene contrast with the delicate jewelry.

It's the most erotic thing you've ever seen in your life.

When you finally roll off her, both of you breathing hard, staring at her ceiling covered in glow-in-the-dark stars, she turns her head toward you with a satisfied smile, your release still glistening on her perfect face.

"So," she says, voice raspy and smug, "convinced about my costume now?"

You laugh, genuinely laugh, turning to face her. "Most convincing costume I've ever seen."

She stretches beside you, body elongating in one fluid motion, arms above her head, back arching slightly off the bed—every movement reminiscent of the animal she's dressed as. The motion causes her breasts to lift, and despite what you just did, you feel a stirring, your cock hardening once again.

She notices, a sly smile spreading across her cum-streaked face. "Careful, cowboy. Look at me like that again and we'll be going for round two before I even clean up."

"Is that supposed to be a deterrent?" you ask, reaching out to trail a finger along her collarbone.

She catches your hand, bringing it to her mouth and placing a kiss on your palm that somehow feels more intimate than everything you've just done.

"First," she says, sitting up and finally removing the cat ears that have somehow survived the entire encounter, "shower. Because as hot as this was—" she gestures to her face, "—I can't have a proper getting-to-know-you conversation with cum in my eyelashes."

You laugh again, surprised by how easy it feels with her despite the circumstances of your meeting.

"Lead the way, slutty cat," you say, and she pulls you up from the bed, toward her bathroom, her naked body as graceful in motion as it was beneath you.

And somehow, you know this night is just the beginning.

[insertdisc5]

📚 A List Of Useful Websites When Making An RPG 📚

My timeloop RPG In Stars and Time is done! Which means I can clear all my ISAT gamedev related bookmarks. But I figured I would show them here, in case they can be useful to someone. These range from "useful to write a story/characters/world" to "these are SUPER rpgmaker focused and will help with the terrible math that comes with making a game".

This is what I used to make my RPG game, but it could be useful for writers, game devs of all genres, DMs, artists, what have you. YIPPEE

Writing (Names)

Behind The Name - Why don't you have this bookmarked already. Search for names and their meanings from all over the world!

Medieval Names Archive - Medieval names. Useful. For ME

City and Town Name Generator - Create "fake" names for cities, generated from datasets from any country you desire! I used those for the couple city names in ISAT. I say "fake" in quotes because some of them do end up being actual city names, especially for french generated ones. Don't forget to double check you're not 1. just taking a real city name or 2. using a word that's like, Very Bad, especially if you don't know the country you're taking inspiration from! Don't want to end up with Poopaville, USA

Writing (Words)

Onym - A website full of websites that are full of words. And by that I mean dictionaries, thesauruses, translators, glossaries, ways to mix up words, and way more. HIGHLY recommend checking this website out!!!

Moby Thesaurus - My thesaurus of choice!

Rhyme Zone - Find words that rhyme with others. Perfect for poets, lyricists, punmasters.

In Different Languages - Search for a word, have it translated in MANY different languages in one page.

ASSETS

In general, I will say: just look up what you want on itch.io. There are SO MANY assets for you to buy on itch.io. You want a font? You want a background? You want a sound effect? You want a plugin? A pixel base? An attack animation? A cool UI?!?!?! JUST GO ON ITCH.IO!!!!!!

Visual Assets (General)

Creative Market - Shop for all kinds of assets, from fonts to mockups to templates to brushes to WHATEVER YOU WANT

Velvetyne - Cool and weird fonts

Chevy Ray's Pixel Fonts - They're good fonts.

Contrast Checker - Stop making your text white when your background is lime green no one can read that shit babe!!!!!!

Visual Assets (Game Focused)

Interface In Game - Screenshots of UI (User Interfaces) from SO MANY GAMES. Shows you everything and you can just look at what every single menu in a game looks like. You can also sort them by game genre! GREAT reference!

Game UI Database - Same as above!

Sound Assets

Zapsplat, Freesound - There are many sound effect websites out there but those are the ones I saved. Royalty free!

Shapeforms - Paid packs for music and sounds and stuff.

Other

CloudConvert - Convert files into other files. MAKE THAT .AVI A .MOV

EZGifs - Make those gifs bigger. Smaller. Optimize them. Take a video and make it a gif. The Sky Is The Limit

Marketing

Press Kitty - Did not end up needing this- this will help with creating a press kit! Useful for ANY indie dev. Yes, even if you're making a tiny game, you should have a press kit. You never know!!!

presskit() - Same as above, but a different one.

Itch.io Page Image Guide and Templates - Make your project pages on itch.io look nice.

MOOMANiBE's IGF post - If you're making indie games, you might wanna try and submit your game to the Independent Game Festival at some point. Here are some tips on how, and why you should.

Game Design (General)

An insightful thread where game developers discuss hidden mechanics designed to make games feel more interesting - Title says it all. Check those comments too.

Game Design (RPGs)

Yanfly "Let's Make a Game" Comics - INCREDIBLY useful tips on how to make RPGs, going from dungeons to towns to enemy stats!!!!

Attack Patterns - A nice post on enemy attack patterns, and what attacks you should give your enemies to make them challenging (but not TOO challenging!) A very good starting point.

How To Balance An RPG - Twitter thread on how to balance player stats VS enemy stats.

Nobody Cares About It But It’s The Only Thing That Matters: Pacing And Level Design In JRPGs - a Good Post.

Game Design (Visual Novels)

Feniks Renpy Tutorials - They're good tutorials.

I played over 100 visual novels in one month and here’s my advice to devs. - General VN advice. Also highly recommend this whole blog for help on marketing your games.

I hope that was useful! If it was. Maybe. You'd like to buy me a coffee. Or maybe you could check out my comics and games. Or just my new critically acclaimed game In Stars and Time. If you want. Ok bye

[swficreference]

Introducing the Star Wars Reference Wiki!

Introducing the Star Wars Fic Reference Wiki, a wiki for fic writers by fic writers!

The Star Wars Fic Reference Wiki is intended as a way for fic writers and other fanwork creators to easily look up pertinent information without having to slog through dense paragraphs or comb through categories with dozens or even hundreds of entries with few indicators of what the pages are. Do you want lists? Do you want tables? Do you want easily digestible bullet points? We've got 'em!

We build pages from common questions we or other fic writers have, such as:

All these fics incorporate events from Jedi Apprentice, but what really happened to Obi-Wan Kenobi in Legends?

How do the stories in Revenge of the Sith and The Clone Wars mesh together?

Which characters are LGBTQIA+? Who are some LGBTQIA+ creators who have worked on a Star War? How about a timeline of LGBTQIA+ people and content?

BBY/ABY, BrS/GrS, BFE/AFE... what's the difference between these and all those other calendars? What calendar do characters use before the Battle of Yavin?

What are some idioms or kriffing swears this character could use to sound more Star Wars-y?

Does the GFFA have its own version of a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup?

What could be used as a pack animal in one of the many, many deserts?

Why does this fic call him "Yan" or "Glamnor" Dooku? Is her full name Padmé Amidala Naberrie or something else?

How many costumes does Padmé wear? What about other SW costumes?

What are some canonical design options for a Kiffar OC's facial tattoo?

Are these the droids you're looking for?

Are you constantly losing those handy tumblr posts compiling useful resources? We have a permanent page for that!

(Swears in light mode; LGBTQIA+ characters in dark mode)

We've only recently started building the wiki, and are creating new pages all the time! We'd love help or suggestions for new pages. Have you never edited a wiki before? No problem! We have a tutorial for that. Are you not super confident about your English? No worries! Other wiki editors are here to help! We have a Discord server for the wiki, and side channels for things like SW fic recs and general fan chat.

Thank you for initial brainstorming and showing us there was an interest in and audience for this wiki, from us (facingthenorthwind and immithrax) to you: @nimata-beroya, @cacodaemonia, @elismor, @genericficerblog, @seth-shitposts, @takadasaiko, and @virusq!

Many hands make great wikis, so please, come on over and join us, and check back to see what new things we have in store! If you find our pages useful, we'd also love if you could spread the word, so other people can make use of the resources we've worked hard to create.

[paintingpuff]

So with the terrible Minecraft movie trailer dropping,

I've seen a lot of people bringing up better stories in the world of Minecraft, like Story Mode or the books or the SMPs, but may I add another option that would be a way better use of your time and money than the Minecraft movie (esp cuz its free)?

Animation Vs. Minecraft

(Note: contains out of context spoilers for this series to give you a sneak peek of what's waiting for you)

There's a good chance you've seen the first video, since it's one of the most watched minecraft videos on youtube, made by the same guy who did Animation vs Animator.

But did you know that the stick figures pick the game back up and continue the series?

There are now three completed seasons packed with fun episodic content that naturally blossoms into a larger, engrossing story that amounts to /several hours of animated content/. It's got fun characters, gorgeous fight scenes, and even musical numbers, all told with next to no dialogue!

The whole thing is a love letter to Minecraft, with way more passion and knowledge of the game than WBS.

New episodes would show off the latest updates, like when the main characters explored the ancient cities and lush caves before they were officially released.

There are even homages to the Minecraft animation community, such as the episode featuring Monster School (my favorite part of this is the way they purposefully imitate the old janky animation in Herobrine's movements)

Not a fan of piglins always being villains? While there's certainly some bad piglins in this series (though I'd argue they're under duress), the main cast also befriends some, include this adorable piglin child.

Still not over Reuben's death from MSM? Well they've also got a pig (named Reuben by the community), and it both doesn't die, and occasionally does some badassery himself!

Speaking of the action, this series doesn't just reference minecraft's world and creatures: it expands on the mechanics and worldbuilding, creating avenues for some truly incredible action that can only be achieved within minecraft. It takes full advantage of the medium and world.

My personal favorite example of this is the team's expansion on the Lucky Blocks mod, exploring the idea of a "randomizer" power to its fullest extent.

The action scenes are the kind where you have to watch them five times over because each character is doing something completely unique and fun.

Here is all the episodes of season 1 compiled in one video to get you started, though there are also playlists out there:

All in all, this series is funny, gripping, and adorable, and is worth your attention far better than some corporate schlock.

[ssahotchnerr]

what about an Ellie-verse where they have a family day planned but Aaron got home from a case super late the night before and is exhausted but trying to hide it/power through and reader assures him that he’s allowed to be tired and they have a movie day at home instead! I think of the quote where Hotch says he felt like he constantly had to be the perfect Dad and husband because he only had a short amount of time and it makes me so sad for him :-(

rain check

my heart 🥺 cw; girl dad!aaron, fem!reader, established relationship, reader is referred to as mom, hurt to comfort - aaron is self-deprecating per usual, domestic fluff <3 wc; 1.5k

One second, Aaron’s eyes were shut, his head resting comfortably against his pillow as he slept soundly beside you. What felt like the next: Ellie pouncing onto his chest.

He startled, opening his eyes and finding her sweet face. He couldn’t be annoyed, nor could he help the way his heart warmed immediately at the sight of her - how he's missed her the last couple days.

"Hi Daddy."

"Morning El Bel." He mumbled sleepily, "what're you doing?"

"Mommy asked me to quietly check if you're awake." Her tiny brows furrowed, tilting her head to get a better view of him as if she couldn't already tell. "Are you awake?

He chuckled, yawning into his words, "I'm awake."

"Good." She looked pleased. "C'mon it's zoo day!" Her hands landed on his chest, shaking him lightly. "We're gonna see monkeys."

"Really? I think there's already a monkey right here." He teased, tickling her side and releasing a plethora of giggles.

Ellie's talk pulled him out of bed - Elephants. Lions. What's your favorite animal? Jack wants to see the snakes, but they're scary. Mom is packing a lunch so we can have a picnic. She only left at his suggestion she should go help you, specifically, choosing his sandwich for him.

He showered, and nearly fell back asleep in the process, counterintuitive to what he had hoped would wake him up. The stream of warm water hitting his tense muscles relaxed them immensely, melting the stiffness from his shoulders and dulling the edge of his thoughts.

Once he pulled himself out, he got dressed, shaved, going through the motions hazily with a heavy body. The lack of sleep was already giving him a migraine, pulsating behind his eyes.

"Hey," you poked your head into the bathroom. "You almost ready?"

"Yeah, sorry." Aaron nodded, capping the ibuprofen. "Just taking a while to catch my bearings this morning."

Your eyes moved from the medicine bottle to him. It was dark when he climbed into bed, late, and you could vaguely remember the weight of his body settling down beside you, tossing an arm around your middle and scooting close.

And this morning, you had awoken before him, so now you had the opportunity to really look at him. The bags under his eyes - while always there - were more prominent. His eyes lacked their sparkle, drowned by the weight of pure fatigue. You could always tell when he needed a day, and he needed a day.

"Aaron..."

He recognized your concerned tone, immediately waving it off. "I'm fine."

"But-"

"I'm fine, sweetheart." He insisted, placing a kiss on your cheek on his way out. "Don't worry. It's going to be a fun day."

But naturally, you worried.

Any normal day, you would've been out of the house in less than an hour. When initially making the family day plans, the goal was to leave around 10 am. Or in Aaron time - 9:45, and it was already quarter after. Aaron, being Aaron, never deviated from schedule; the tardiness alone would have been enough of a sign that he was off his game, but when paired with everything else, it was quite damning.

As Jack - the ever helpful big brother - helped Ellie tie her shoes, you cornered your husband in the kitchen, watching him pour an extra large cup of coffee.

"Why don't we take a rain check?"

"Hm?"

"It's going to rain." You lied bluntly and badly, the fib so undeniably obvious.

"No it's not." Aaron laughed gently, his eyebrows quirking lightly in confusion. "I checked this morning. The radar is perfectly clear."

"Aaron, you're exhausted," you stated the obvious, sympathetically. "Do you really want to be on your feet all day long? And how's that headache of yours?"

Silence was his answer, screwing the to-go lid shut slowly. His tired eyes found yours, defeated. "Ellie's been looking forward to this. As has Jack."

Moving in front of him, your hands found his shoulders, offering his rigid muscles a soothing squeeze. "We can do something fun here. The zoo isn't going anywhere."

Dropping his head, he huffed a laugh, a rather disappointed-in-himself one at that. "Yeah, but I am."

Your brows crinkled in confusion. "What?"

"Any second, my phone could ring and I'm gone again." He said, his eyes rolling ever so slightly. "It's best to take advantage of what we can do when I'm here. And I am. What if the next time, it does rain?"

"Then we accommodate again." You solved easily, bringing a hand to his cheek. "Listen to your body Aar. Taking a day off isn't going to make you any less than a father. It's okay."

"And what, give them another reason to be disappointed in me?"

You frowned, "you know that's not true."

"I'm sorry." He sighed with a head shake. He did, but still gently admitted under his breath. "But that's how I feel."

"I know honey, and I wish you didn't. You don't give yourself enough credit." Your thumb stroked his skin sadly, releasing a breath from your nose. "They'll understand."

His gaze moved off to the side, unconvinced. "I don't know-"

"Are we going now?" Jack's voice entered the kitchen. Ellie was at his side - her tiny backpack on and ready to go.

You shared a quick look with Aaron, whose jaw was tight, an unhappy expression plastered on his face. "I'm not sure, you two. Dad's not feeling well today."

Ellie's eyebrows dropped in concern. While their resemblance was always uncanny, she looked like a miniature version of her father in this moment especially. "Are you sick?"

Aaron remained silent, biting down onto his lip, so you answered for him again. "He is a little bit, yeah. Would it be okay if we went to the zoo another time?"

"Yeah, we can always go to the zoo," Jack nodded with zero hesitation. "But what about the picnic we packed?"

"We can have it here." You mussed his hair gently. "Right in the living room, how about that?"

"Really?" Ellie's eyes widened. "A picnic inside the house? We can do that?"

"Yeah, it'll be fun." You crouched down to her level next, offering her a grin. "We can watch movies, play some games, and let Dad get some rest."

"Cool, I'll go see what we have." Jack hurried out and down the hall, beelining for the playroom.

"I'm sorry you're sick Daddy." Ellie consoled, wrapping her tiny arms around his legs and peering up at him. "We can see monkeys another time when you're all better."

His eyes softened, his scowl turning into a smaller pout. "Thanks El, I appreciate that."

She gave him a bright smile before running after her brother, pigtails bouncing atop her head.

Your eyes found his as a small smile tugged at the ends of your lips, conveying without words the reassurance you knew Aaron needed- they love you. His expression, while not entirely convinced, was more hopeful. He pulled you close by a belt loop on your jeans, wrapping his arms around you.

After selecting a few games and movies, Jack helped you set a picnic blanket on the carpet. Meanwhile, Ellie dragged every - literally every - stuffed animal she could find to the living room, creating a makeshift zoo just for Aaron. If he's sick, she'll bring the zoo to him.

You didn't say it aloud in front of the kids, but you watched his demeanor change. As if this healed something in him.

While he didn't verbalize it as often anymore, the weight of leaving home was something he held quietly in his chest - the dire need to be perfect with such a limited time. To go above and beyond for the kids to make sure they were happy, loved, and knew they were everything to him.

You witnessed it every time he left for a case; the instant dread that overtook him whenever his phone rang, the solemn expression on his face as he gave them hugs goodbye, the dismal tone in his voice over the phone during bedtime check ins. As if he were awaiting that one day he returned and they realized what a neglectful father he was.

While you reassured him, and he appreciated your reassurances, there was always the little voice in his head telling him not to get too comfortable. If he grew complacent, the life he loved could once again slip through his fingers. 

But now, with the plans falling short, Jack and Ellie didn't display any remorse or sadness, only the care, concern, and empathy for their father you together have taught them.

He didn't need to be on all the time. Quality time was quality time no matter the plans. And, making sure Dad was okay was more important than anything else.

"Do you think Dad's feeling better?" Jack's voice pulled your focus, looking up at you from his spot on the carpet. The second movie of the day was playing on the screen.

You glanced over at Aaron, who was fast asleep on the couch - head leaning back against the cushion, his feet crossed as they rested on the coffee table in front of him. Ellie was nestled into his side, her eyes trying their hardest to stay awake and follow the movie, but ultimately failing.

"Yeah, I think he is." You gave Jack a smile, holding your arms out; he didn’t hesitate to scramble up and join you. "This is exactly what he needed."

[booksandteaandtears]

That's your wife? sunshine version

Dr. Jack Abott x f!attending!wife!reader

summary: You started working as a pediatric surgeon at the PTMC about a year ago and people have not yet figured out that you and Jack are married because your personalities are very different

obviously a little inspired by dr. Doug Ross fighting with parents (does anyone else think dr. Robby is kinda like Mark Green?)

slightly angsty, but mostly fluff

mentions child abuse

reader gets hurt but not too badly

masterlist | thunder version

You'd always loved working with kids, working as a nanny during college and volunteering at different foster facilities. You had gone to med-school with the goal of becoming a pediatrician and after many years of internships and residency you had landed a job at UPMC Presbyterian. You'd had loved it there for years, but about a year and a half ago a position had opened at PTMC, with the chance to become Chief of pediatrics in a few years.

Initially you had wanted to turn it down. You had worked in the same hospital as Jack years ago as a resident, but had left when you kept being referred to as "Abbot's wife", instead of people seeing you as a doctor in your own right. Even though you'd kept your maiden name they seemed to link your medical abilities to your husband, and you hated it, so you'd always worked in a different hospital since then. You'd worked too hard on your career to be okay with being treated like that. Jack had been sad that you couldn't drive into work together anymore, but he respected your decision and fully supported your career.

Jack had convinced you to take the job at PTMC in the end, agreeing to keep your marriage secret except for a select few. None of the staff had questioned it so far and working at PTMC had been great. You loved the pediatrics team and the chances you had been given by performing new and exciting surgeries.

You especially loved being the on-call pedes surgeon every couple of shifts, consulting down in the Pitt. With PTMc being a level 1 trauna centre a lot of interesting cases were brought in every shift.

You knew everyone's name in the ER. They thought it was because you put in a lot of effort to get to know them, but you secretly knew because Jack would gossip about his staff with you. So not only did you know their names, but you knew that Javadi had a crush on Mateo, and Trinity had her eyes on Garcia. Sometimes you were the one delivering gossip to Jack, because you brought his nurses coffee and pastries which meant they told you everything.

Besides the treats, they liked you because you were always bright, happy and just incredibly good with children. You could calm down even the kids that McKay had trouble with. You had bright patches with dino's on your coat and had stickers for a ton of specific interests, ranging from cars to animals to TV-shows. You'd given Whitaker a sticker to soothe his feelings on more than one occasion and carried a special pack with some of Mel's favourites.

No one in the Pitt had even entertained the thought that you, with your bubbly personality and ever present smile, could be married to their very own anxious, demoralised and borderline suicidal attending.

You had spent that morning in surgery, fixing up a kid's lungs from a major pneumothorax after a consult in the Pitt. You'd been alerted that the child's father had arrived in the pedes' waiting room and that he had been asking for you.

You took a deep breath and turned the corner with Kiara right behind you. "Mr. Morgan?" You called out. A man raised his head at you and you nodded for him to follow you out of the waiting room.

"Your son's nursery brought him in this morning, he had a fever and was complaining of pain in his chest and back. We operated on a collapsed lung this morning. It was collapsed because of trauma, and it was so severe we could not treat it without surgery. We suspect someone kicked the boy in his ribs. I was called in for a consult by the doctors in the ER, and we found several old injuries during our assessment. Bruises and sprained ribs. Burns on his leg. It appears to us that the child has been hurt over a longer period of time."

You tried to control the anger in your voice. Your place was not to judge the man, but to help his son, but you were having trouble keeping yourself in line.

"This is Kiara, she is the social worker that is tied to the Emergency Department. She's been with your son since he was brought in. We want to have a conversation with you, and then child protection services and the police will be here to investigate further. There might be a reasonable explanation for all of this, but we are legally obligated to make a report and involve the police. Could you follow me into my office please?"

Mr. Morgan stood still in the hall. "You're saying you got the police involved?" His face grew red with anger. You raised an eyebrow, apparently the man was more worried about getting caught than trying to deny the accusation.

Kiara stepped in. "Yes, as the doctor explained, we have to report suspected cases of child abuse. I can talk with you about the next steps, so we can ensure this all goes smoothly for your son."

Mr. Morgan took a step towards you, his breath touching your cheek. He smelled of stale coffee. "You reported this to the police?" He asked again. You nodded, trying to step backwards to create distance. He grabbed your wrist to stop you. His voice grew louder. "I'll raise my boy however the hell I want to raise him. A nosy bitch like you has no say in it. Fucking whore of a doctor who thinks she's all that. Bet you've never raised kids of your own. Where is my son! I'm taking him home!" A bit of spit reached your face from the intensity of his outburst. Several people had poked their heads out of doors in the hallway, alarmed by the raised voice. You felt nervous by the way this was enfolding so you tried to deescalate the conversation once more. "Sir, the law in Pennsylvania states that I have to report you. If you've hurt your child, these are the consequences. There's nothing I can do about that. Your son is what we are worried about here, he's just had surgery because of his injuries. Let's try to talk and see what we ca-."

You felt the punch before you could have seen his fist flying at you. He was a big man and the force of it knocked you to the ground. Your hands flew up to your face, holding your nose. "Fuck." You groaned. You tried to inspect your nose, which, in hindsight, was a mistake, because you missed the foot that came flying into your ribs. A second kick landed soon after.

Kiara cried out next to you, calling for help. A group of nurses came flying in, grabbing mr. Morgan and pulling him off of you. You groaned and turned on your side, trying to breathe. Panic was taking over.

The chief attending came running up, assessing your nose and ribs with soft fingers. The touch grounded you and you tried to steady your breathing. You didn't say much, the pain in you body and the anger that was circling your mind keeping your throat closed.

"I need you to talk to me dear," she whispered. "Does this hurt?" You groaned. "Right, you need an x-ray so we can see what's going on. Let's get you down to the ER. Let's call 'em to let them know we're coming. Somebody get a gurney!"

You felt your heartbeat pick up as she mentioned the ER. Your fingers brushed her arm as she shouted orders. "No ER, please." You groaned at her. "I- I'm fine. Doesn't hurt that bad, I promise." You winced as you tried to put a smile on you face. "Try to convince someone else on that. I'm not keeping you out of the ER just so you can keep your husband in the dark." You groaned, again. "Don't call him. He'll worry. I'm fine." Your attending smiled at you. "Don't worry, I'll leave that to dr. Robinavitch. I would rather not be the one to tell you husband we let you get hurt while working."

Robby, Langdon and Whitaker were waiting in front of the elevator. They took over the gurney when the doors opened and rolled you into one of the rooms. Langdon tried very hard not to hurt you further and assessed your face carefully. You still winced when he brushed your left eye. "Sorry." He whispered at you. Robby was poking your ribs in the meantime. You turned you head towards him.

"Robby," You started, "You didn't call yet, did you?" He nodded and poked a particularly sore spot. "Let's asses first, I'll call him after." You whined at him. "Don't, Robby. He'll just be mad, I'll tell him when I get home." Robby looked at you sternly. "We'll talk about this later." You pouted at him and let Langdon inspect your face again. "Yes dad." You murmured. Langdon couldn't help a laugh escaping him.

Half an hour later you were working on convincing Robby not to call Jack. Your ribs were bruised and you had a massive black eye, but the CT's showed no breaks in you face or your ribs. It did hurt like hell though.

"I am a patient now, Robby, I do not give consent to cal my emergency contact and I am perfectly capable of making that decision right now." Robby nodded fiercely at you. "Yes, those are very pretty words, and very true, but the matter of the fact is that Jack will kill me when he finds out you are in his ER and I did not call him. My life's on the line here, not yours. It's bad enough that Gloria's coming down to investigate, I can not handle an angry Jack on top of that." You almost felt sorry for him.

"I just don't want him freaking out. I'll tell him when he comes in, then he can immediately see that I'm fine." Robby sighed at you. "That won't stop him from killing me and Dana." You grimaced back at him, pain pulsing through your bruises because of the movement. "He won't kill Dana, he'll hold you responsible."

Robby threw his hands in the air in surrender and was called away by an incoming trauma, leaving you alone.

You had planned to stay in the ER bed for another hour to make sure you had no concussion, but five minutes before you wanted to leave the curtain around your bed was ripped open.

"I was going to bring you a coffee upstairs and when I arrive one of the nurses tells me you've been knocked down by a parent and you're in the ER. And when I asked when it'd happened, they told me it was over two hours ago." Jack's face was angry. You opened your mouth to argue but where interrupted.

"So, let's see how you're doing" Langdon stepped in through the curtain and was shocked to see Jack standing there. "Dr. Abbot," Langdon called out, "What are you doing here so early? You shift doesn't start for an hour and a half. Is there a big trauma coming in?" Jack turned, still angry. "Where's Robby?" He demanded. "He's in curtain four, I think. He's been screaming to Gloria about hospital security for the past thirty minutes. But what are you doing here, do you need to discuss something with dr. Robby?" Jack grunted. "Bring him here." You winced at his tone. "Jack, come o-" Jack turned towards you. "Don't. Langdon go get Robby." Frank was confused. "He's in four with a patient. Why can't you just go to him? I've gotta check up on this patient." Jack turned fully towards him and Langdon could see the fury in Abbot's eyes. "Because my wife was brought into the ER this afternoon, and dr. Robinavitch did not contact me. That's why."

Langdon looked around the Pitt. "Your wife was brought in? When? I don't see an Abbot on the board? Where is she."

Jack pointed to you and you grew red.

Langdon opened his mouth but no sound came out. Whitaker kept looking from you to Jack.

"That is your wife?" Langdon gasped after a moment. "She's here all the time! How did you never tell us?" Jack shrugged and gently pushedsome hair out of your face. "Not like you ever asked." You leaned in to his touch. "You can hover around, but let Frank take a look at my face please." Jack's finger brushed your eyebrow. "I can do that. I don't want a resident working on my wife."

You took his fingers and pulled them down, kissing them softly. "Langdon can take care of it. Just sit tight and hold my hand. I'm fine Jack, I promise." You could see some of the worry leave your husband's face. "Sit down. We'll ask someone to cover your shift so you can take me home after. You can make me dinner and we'll hang out on the couch all evening, all right?" Jack resigned and took a seat next to you on the gurney, stroking your thigh with his free hand.

Langdon discharged you a couple minutes later and you managed to get Jack out of the Pitt without bumping into Robby. Jack was still mad that he had been blindsided, but he knew your injuries weren't bad. He'd promised you he'd be screaming at Robby tomorrow, but you were pretty sure you could get him to forgive his friend before then.

Tomorrow was going to be confronting enough, by then the entire hospital would know that the bubbly pediatrician and the grumpy ER physician were married.

Jack helped you into his car and leaned over you to fasten your seatbelt. "Jack," you told him when he was satisfied it was on tightly, "I'm not a kid, I can fasten my own seatbelt." Jack looked up into your eyes. "I know you're not. But you're my wife and I want to take care of you. You scared me darling. I was just going to take you a cup of coffee and I find you in my ER. That's something out of a nightmare. That elevator ride down was the longest of my life. I know you're going to be okay, but I was really terrified for a second there. So just bear with me while I treat you like you're made of glass, all right? It'll make me feel better about it." He walked around the car to get into the driver's seat.

You smiled at your husband. "So, did you abandon the cup of coffee in the pediatric ward or did you have the foresight that I would still want it." Jack fastened his own seatbelt and turned to you. "I did abandon your coffee. So I'm guessing our first stop on the way home is to get a new one?" You nodded at Jack. "You bet. Let's go, husband of mine!" He started the car and took another peek at you, glossing over your face to make sure you were all right. "I love you, my wife."

[kisses4themissus]

Unknown Feeling | M.R X Reader

a/n: wydm i gotta go to work now :'( pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch X Single Mom!Reader wc: 2.4k

!! warning; semi proof read !!

prev | masterlist | send me a love letter ♡ | next pt

It was off, lacey sat across from nick with a look of uncertainty.

“I got you a gift buggy!” Nick smiled as he grabbed a small gabby cat keychain form his pocket, lacey smiled politely at it; truth be told lacey had hated the kids show, her allergy to cats filled it, only acting happy to please you.

“Thank you, nick.” She gently placed it down on the table beside her, you held back a laugh at the motion, the hidden look of disgust on her little face.

“Nick? I’m dada!” Nick smiled, making you nod and smooth the hairs on lacey’s head.

“You’re name is nicolas though!” She explained, looking at her mom, as if asking if the man in front of them was dumb. “I heard you’ve been doing ballet, you like it?” Nick asked, scooting the the edge of your couch.

You saw the plain difference, robby had asked the same question and gotten a whole exclamation of her ballet moves and class while now nick only gotten a small nod. “I’m going to be a rat again.” Lacey explained, looking to the side before back at you. “Can i get a juice, mommy?” She asked politely making you nod before getting up.

Not long after you left nick followed, sighing as he leaned against the kitchen island, admiring you.

You pulled out a small juice box, many cartoon animals on the carton, as you cleaned up you stood at the sight of nick. “What is it?” You asked, grabbing a small pack of pretzels for a snack for lovebug.

“Motherhood suits you y’know? The whole material is your vibe.” He chuckled, moving closer to you. 

“Opposited to your non paternal vibe?” You joked, laughing at it.

He rolled his eyes playfully and moved closer to you. “I could take care of you girls, i’ve got my own place not the far from the studio, you could quit the hospital and take care of lacey full time…maybe some more?” His words made you scoff.

“Sure, so you can leave again!” You smirked, placing your hands on your hips. “I was young, didn’t know what i even wanted.” Nick tried to defend, making you scoff. 

“And i wasn’t?” You asked, tilting your head to the side slightly. Nick sighed and stared at you for a moment before scoffing at you, an annoyed smile on his face as he paced the room.

“I get it now, you want me out so you can make that emergency doctor to her dad!” He accused, at his words you couldn’t help but laugh at his audacity. “You know what, he’d probably be a better dad than a deadbeat like yourself.” You scoffed, picking up the juice box and walked over to lacey who had zoned into her cartoons.

Nick walked over and sat down beside lacey. The little girl drank her juice and watched you both before going back to the TV.

“You excited to be a rat this year, baby?” Nick asked, lacey nodded wordlessly. 

“What do you plan on doing?” He asked, trying to start a conversation. Lacey sighed and blinked slowly, “Dance.”

Nick sighed and got up from the couch, this meeting clearly not working in his favor.

- - - - - - - -

It had driven robby crazy, you had been avoiding him at all cost. When you would run into him you’d refer to him as dr. robinavitch, there had been rumors of your own dating life going around now, robby had hoped none were true.

You had been spotted several times getting into a truck with a random guy. One of the nurses said they had seen you out in public with him at grocery stores and coffee shops.

Robby knew deep down he shouldn’t have felt that way after he hadn’t cleared up rumors of him and collins together. It was a constant thought in his head, were you and lacey happy with...him?

Sighing as he leaned onto central before getting pulled away by a trauma, most of his days had gone faster as he thought of several ways he could apologize to you, it had killed him to see the look of love change to nothing, as if you never opened up to him. He sighed as the EMTs rolled in more patients.

Robby glanced over them before sending them to open rooms and some into the trauma rooms. All while assisting the residents and interns robby couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift off to you.

As he exited the trauma room, tossing his gloves into the nearest trach can he mindlessly looked up and stopped as two ICU nurses rolled you in on a wheelchair, vomit bag in hand. “She keeps fainting, vomiting excessively and a high fever.” The nurses began listening off your symptoms to robby as you gagged into the vomit bag.

He knelt down and looked over you, ignore the death stare you gave him, he nodded and motioned for the closed off room. “Don’t do it robinavitch!” You warned him, your hand gripping one of the nurses hands as she went to wheel you away, stopping her from doing so. 

He smirked at you and tugged your hand back to your lap, following behind the nurses. “Too bad, it’s my ED, and I think you don’t look too good.” He chuckled, as you thrashed from the nurses. “I’ll go into an urgent care after work!” You yelled, glaring as one prepared an IV.

“You work at a hospital for gods sake, just see one here!” One of them groaned, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t make me give you propofol!” She warned, at he threat you groaned and helped the two as you got into a hospital bed.

As robby went to check you over a trauma caught his attention, he looked at you for a moment before leaving to the trauma, leaving you and the nurses in the room.

As you fell in and out of sleep, a knock on the door made you glance up, both dr. collins and dr. king stood at the door. You sighed and attempted to sit up. “Heard the ICU’s best finally fell.” Collins teased earning a small nod, you attempted not to be upset at heather, she couldn’t have known about you and robby either..

“Lovebug caught something, I assume it’s the stomach flu.” You sighed, motioning to the several vomit bags now laid out nearby in case. Dr. king sighed looking between you and collins. “We just need to rule out other things, Um– is there a chance you could be pregnant?” Mel asked politely, making you snort at the question, you shook your head at her.

“We’ll still have to run a test to be sure but more than likely you probably caught a stomach bug.” She nodded, handing you a testing cup. You nodded and got up with the help of the two women. Mel had helped walk you to the bathroom, quickly filling the cup.

You washed your hands and let your thought go to your patients upstairs or lacey’s practice. With a groan you realized you had left your phone upstairs on your desk. Walking out of the restroom, you walked over to mel and handed the test over.

Thankfully collins had gotten pulled away and mel walked to the lab to have the sample tested. You looked around, it had seemed busy, quickly making your way to the elevators, as your foot stepped in, a firm hands stopped you. “That’ll be an AMA, get back to your bed!” Langdon scolded, making you groan.

“I thought i was in the clear,” You whined as langdon guided you away from the elevators.

“I just left my phone upstairs, please can i go get it?” You begged, making him snort a laugh. “Sure you did, i’ll send an intern up.” He watched as you got back into the bed before flagging down whittaker to get your phone. The blond nodded and scurried away.

“I have two legs y’know?” You rolled your eyes, langdon shook his head. “And excessive vomiting, don’t need someone slipping in your dinner..” He smiled before leaving to central.

- - - - - - - -

It had been about two hours since you had tested, majority of the ED workers had “happened” to be passing by your room. You had managed to fall asleep, the fatigue hitting hard. 

A soft knock made you wake from the light daze you had fallen in. Mel stood at the door with her eyebrows furrowed. She stepped in and stood up closer to your bed. “Um- I got your results back.. It’s actually positive…” Her words make your stomach drop.

“Excuse me?” You asked, feeling ringing in your ears at the news. “You’re pregnant, congratulations, or if you need we can have a medical abortion, totally your choice!” Mel ressured, making you nod, your thought going wild. 

“Don’t put it on my chart please, um– just say it’s the stomach flu..” You asked the doctor who nodded, a bit confused but agreed. She had quickly dismissed you, helping you as you disconnected from the IVs, you shrugged on your jacket and walked back upstairs, quietly.

Lacey was going to be an older sister? It had to be robby’s child, you had refused to let nick get near you in any intimate way. Your thoughts ran wild the elevator ride. 

As you sat back down at your desk, you placed your hands on your head, wishing the world would swallow you whole at the moment. One of the nurses walked over and watched over you. “You alright?” She asked, eyeing you carefully. With a nod you sighed and got up to attend to the patients nearby, distracting yourself from the news.

As your shift had continued you couldn’t help but want to see the results yourself after seeing on your period tracker your cycle had been late,  quickly telling the others you needed to buy something at the cafeteria you had slipped down to the ED, making your way to their supply closet.

Slipping into the room, you searched over the shelves before landing on the pregnancy tests they used. You grabbed three and shoved them into your jacket pockets, making sure nothing stuck out.

As you went to leave, robby entered the room and blocked you in. You scoffed, the universe had it out for you that day. 

“Can i get by dr. robinavitch?” You asked, not making eye contact. 

“Not unless we talk.” He shook his head, crossing his arms as you nodded and looked around the room. “Dr. king cleared me, i have the stomach flu, lacey caught one from the kids at the studio..” You explained, grabbing a vomit bag in case, you quite literally couldn’t stomach the situation. 

“I mean about the park, these past few weeks..about us?” Robby kept his gaze on you, watching as you look down at your shoes; those pregnancy test burning a hole into your pocket as he kept talking.

“Talk? Talk about you randomly running off and appearing in a relationship the next week?” You asked, scoffing, your outburst taking robby off guards. “We should talk about this another time michael, i have patients and so do you. Now if i may leave!” You excused yourself and pushed past him and ran back upstairs to the nearest secluded bathroom.

Robby sighed and groaned as you ran past him, refusing to speak to him, calling him michael, it wasn’t like how he imagined it would go, rather then it sounding soft and filled with love, now it had a serious tone and nothing more.

Robby huffed into his hands as you left him in the supply closet, he couldn’t help but grow frustrated at his own actions.

As he leaned his forehead against the shelving, the supply door opened.

“Sorry to interrupted your breakdown but no one had taken a look at a dancer with a broken ankle in south 15..” Dana informed, watching as robby took a moment before nodding at her. “Yeah– yeah i’ll be there..” He sighed, running a hand over his head before walking out of the supply closet.

- - - - - - - -

“Hi there, i’m dr. robby, heard you have a broken–!” Robby stopped as he made eye contact with the three girls in the room, cursing under his breath.

Lacey sat on the patients mom’s lap, tapping away on her tablet while the mom quietly rocked lacey and herself on the plastic chair. “Broken ankle, um–how did it occur?” Robby asked, grabbing the nearest stool and sat down by the patient’s ankle.

“Dance practice…I was suppose to be our sugar plum..” The teen sighed, resting her head on gurney’s railing. Robby nodded and looked over to the ankle before nodding to himself. “Looks like you’ll be needing a cast and a replacement.” He sighed, his gaze following to lacey who had occasionally looked up from he tablet to listen.

“I told her only to do four pirouette’s for the practice...” Lacey muttered under her breath, robby hid a smiled as he typed up the order on the computer. “How many can you do?” Robby asked lacey, turning as she looked at robby before looking to the teen in the gurney. “I’m not showing you, look at what happened!” She said dramatically, patted the teen’s uninjured leg in comfort.

“A nurse should be in to set things up for the cast, then i’ll be back.” Robby smiled and went to leave the room, quickly waving to lacey before exiting.

- - - - - - - 

You paced the bathroom as the test laid face down, the timer on your phone going. As you thought of possibilities your phone rang, looking at the contact you sighed and answered.

“Yes mom?” 

“Oh perfect you answered, listen anna had a bad fall and her mother called to say that she won’t be able to be in the show and well me and marissa were going through the storage unit and happened to find your old sugar plum and it’s perfect since tomorrow evening the photographer will be here..” SHe hinted making you scoff.

“I haven’t done sugar plum since I was eighteen, nice try mom..” You sighed.

She scoffed on the other side before confessing. “Fine, when i picked lacey up, i may have snooped through your closet to have your costume resized, it should fit like a glove honey!” She reassured.

You sighed, going to open your mouth but stopping as the timer went off. “Yeah, sure mom. um–I’ll call you in bit!” You quickly hung up the phone and flipped over the test results.

All tests laid out the same result.

Negative.

next pt

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[cherisi]

Clubbing NPCs: Two Worlds Mod Pack | 80+ Animated Deco Sims

Bring the energy of a real night out to The Sims 4 with the Clubbing NPCs Mod! This set of animated deco Sims ensures your clubs and parties actually give what they need to give. No more empty dance floors or awkward gatherings—now, your Sims can party alongside a crowd of dancers, DJs spinning tracks, bouncers keeping the sneaky teens in check, and dealers working the scene. Say goodbye to partying with just Nancy Landgraab and some random townie—your Sims’ nights out will finally feel like nights out!

Items List

Features

Dancers Silhouette Dancers Mr. & Mrs. Bouncer Dealers Seen And Not Heard DJ Club Dancers (Requires Pole Dance Mod by Mercuryfoam) Idle Clubbers

For more information about the set, how it works, and what’s included please refer to the official download page: Patreon

Download

Early Access: March 21. March 28. April 4 Public April 11th Mod Showcase