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princessbrunette · 1 year ago

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being sarah’s bff equals lots n lots of girlie nights !! so, of course, you’re comfortable enough to prance around tannyhill in short shorts n lil lacy camis after years of spending days n nights there !!

you’ve always thought of rafe as sarah’s mean big brother, nothing more n nothing less, so you tend to avoid him. he’s intimidating, yk !! besides, sarah’s warned you about staying away - “he ruins everything” she claims.

but rafe? rafe swears you know exactly what you’re doing when you’re roaming the halls in your shorts and cami that don’t leave a whole lot to his imagination, but then he gets you alone & realizes you really don’t have the slightest idea about what you’re doing :( so, he’s gotta teach you a lesson about wearing that shit around his house, right?

(also, please may i be 🐋 or 🍇 anon? pls n thank uu <3)

ᡣ𐭩 ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

sarah’s fast asleep in her humid bedroom, and you were too — before the loud credit music to the 2000s girly rom com you were watching woke you up. you were disorientated, warm, sitting up and squinting in the dark with a dry throat. you figured everyone would be in bed right now, it would be fine if you snuck down the stairs in your little pink lace cami and shorts to fetch yourself a drink.

he must’ve heard you go down, because there’s no way it was a coincidence that rafe appeared in the doorway, watching you down a glass of water, elbows leaning casually against the counter as you chug it down, practically bent over. he eyed you unabashedly, strolling over to the fridge beside you checking out your ass before turning to pull out a beer, cracking it open.

“you should be asleep.” he drawls, deadpan. he was never the conversationalist.

you pull your lips away from the glass, panting a little — mouth wet and breathless, making his dick twitch. “i was asleep. just got thirsty.” you turn to him politely, clearly having no idea how slutty you looked when you reach your fingers up to wipe the water droplets off your bottom lip and chin. you miss a drip, and it trails down your neck and chest. his eyes follow it.

“hm.”

“why can’t i be awake? does the kitchen close at midnight?” you smile, and it’s friendly, lighthearted even but his jaw ticks none the less, turning his attention to you as he takes a sip of beer, afterwards setting it down on the counter.

“no, just not used to having people roam around my house so late. ‘specially uh, especially not dressed like that.” he nods down at your get up in disapproval and you frown, looking down at yourself.

“these are my pyjamas?”

“those are two scraps of fabric.” he retorts, turning back to the fridge to close it after having left it open.

“whats wrong with them?” you tilt your head, all innocent like a kicked puppy and he actually has no idea if it was all an act or if you were truly this naive. he was looking forward to finding out.

“whats wrong with— okay, first of all— i shouldn’t have to come into my kitchen and see my little sisters best friends ass cheeks fallin’ out of her shorts.”

“s’not just your kitchen.” you interject sulkily, looking down at your feet. he steps closer with an impatient squint, gesturing around.

“you see anyone else around? my dad? no. i’m the man of the house now, alright? you’re a guest here, so you should really be listening to me.”

you look up at him, eyes glassy and doe like. it pauses him in his tracks, giving you the chance to speak.

“why’re you so mean to me, rafe? i actually don’t mind you that much, even despite the things sarah says.” you pout. he licks his lips, looking away with a sigh as he composes himself.

“well you’re smart not to listen to that girl. she’s fucking… she’s sarah.” he rolls his eyes, bringing a hand to his forehead to rub at it like he did when he was frustrated. “and i dont dislike you, okay?” he enunciates each consonant. “if i didn’t like you i would let you do whatever the hell you want ‘cos i wouldn’t give a shit. alright? i want you to be better. do well. s’why i gotta…” he gently places hands on your hips, waiting for any objections or resistance before turning you around to face the counter after being met with none. “i gotta guide you, yeah? teach you a lesson.” with that, he presses a hand on your back, gently easing you down to bend over the counter.

“what are you doin’, rafe? sarah’s upstairs.”

“i really… really don’t care.”

ᡣ𐭩 ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

#🍇 anon #rafe cameron prompt #bfb!rafe

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writing-whump · 20 days ago

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Hello Sol I don't know what would you think or is it okay with your fics but in my opinion it'd be great to read Hector while having panic attack,getting sick and then fainting in front of someone? Maybe like Zaya? I dunno why but I feel like this guy needs some care..things are not well between them right now but I love the brotherhood that you write

-I love your fics so muchhh 💜

-🍇

Thanks for the ask! Have some sick Olive and a distressed Hector. Including panic attack and emeto.

Too much

The next day was absolutely great.

Letting the group go on without her turned out to be a good decision. She woke up at 11, had a slow breakfast, watched a couple of her favourite movies and then went around town on afternoon.

Everything was in bloom. People were relaxed, unhurried, and everything tasted great.

Knowing she was alone in the apartment, she could sing as loud and crazy as she could, from current pop songs to Slovak rock from her parent's playlist. She felt like a total rebel, singing those songs in abroad. German songs in Slovakia and Slovak ones in Austria. And English in between to not lose the touch.

It was a nice thing that Isaiah and Matt both allowed for their common language at home to be English and not German. They were all used to it from seminars, but it was a lot of switching at the beginning and it made her feel better. She wasn't the only one speaking in her second language that way, struggling for words in everyday use.

Dylan never had a problem with it either, but Rip took time to adjust. His English was a little awkward, but he talked little as it was. It was harder to notice the progress, but he has been listening a lot and let Dylan likely talk with him in English, cause Seline could see him follow the conversations way better.

With Hector and Olive around, they all switched to German again without discussing it and it was a bit strange at the start. Took some adjusting, but going into the second week now, Seline struggled with it a lot less, although she allowed herself the grace of fitting English words when with Olive and Alessia alone.

She noticed that Rip and Dylan didn't switch to English when alone, staying in German to try it out. Dylan's German was a little neglected from not going to school, but he had some online friends he could talk in German and English so he was used to the switching itself. Seline would have liked to work on his Slovak, these days it invoved a mix of Viennese and English tiktok slangs.

Their parents trying to figure what "tough" was supposed to mean and how it was written was a funny conversation for being Dylan's most used word. Everything was literally tough or not tough as the only descripitve tool.

Ehhh.

Isaiah didn't show any problems in any language. Of course. Show off.

She sang only in Slovak that morning after his confession. So he couldn't understand the words, even if he caught the mood. Washed her hair and while hairdrying sang the most cheerful confident cheeky songs from her favorite female singers. Must have been confusing.

It confused her too, she didn't choose in on purpose, just went with the tune.

Took most of the first day to relax enough she stopped checking herself for moods. Allowing herself to feel without judgement first and then slowly get to analysing what it was she felt. She scrolled through several playlists as she walked around town to figure it out.

At the end of the evening she was dreading their arrival. Ended up dragging Alessia out for early dinner. Good call. They talked pretty long so the apartment was all settled when she came, Dylan and Rip occupying the couch and cuddling, Olive finishing paintings of the day, Hector falling asleep watching her in the weirdest positions.

Isaiah was...well. He couldn't seem to keep sitting if Seline was in the room. He would get up, fidgeting, ask if he could bring her something or tried to create some task out of thin air to keep busy.

She wasn't sure what he expected her to do. If he watched too closely she would have taken it as wanting an answer that she wasn't ready to give. But he didn't and his awkwardness made her amused, despite the circumstances.

They mostly avoided each other otherwise.

She worked from the desk, back towards him, when he was in the room and only went to sleep when he was soundly asleep on the bed they shared. Isaiah talked almost exclusively only when someone was around to witness it, as if afraid he would blurt something out again if they didn't.

Did he regret what he told her? It was such a spontaneous thing. It didn't seem rehersed or planned the way he would prefer it. Not the perfect place or time.

Something about the situation where it came up was endearing to her.

She couldn't analyse it too closely though. The gnarled mess of intense, conflicting emotions made her dizzy.

Thrill, excitement. Surprise but also not quite. Fear and dread. Like standing on the edge of a cliff and trying to make yourself jump. There would be victory in that jump, but it would also mean dealing with the fall.

It made her want to curl up under the blankets and never come out. Too overwhelming, too much.

Best not to analyse it at all for now—for everyone's peace of mind—and just go with whatever pleasant emotion and whim she craved.

For the next morning, she decided to take another solo day off. She snuck out at 7 am to get breakfast and wait out till everyone left before she returned.

When she came back from her stroll and more pictures of walled-up castles with dam barriers and the nearby lake at 10 am, the car was still there, though.

Dylan and Rip were waiting on the little square in front of their rental and Isaiah was nowhere to be seen. Hm.

The scene that welcomed her inside was chaotic.

Hector was knocking, soft but insistent, at the closed bathroom door, repeating Olive's name. Isaiah stood a step behind him, arms crossed as if he was physically keeping himself from intervening.

"What's going on?" she asked, letting her handbag down on the table.

"Olive is sick and doesn't want to come out," Isaiah explained.

Hector gave him a pointed glare, then knocked again. "Honey, please, let me it, it's alright-"

"No! Go away."

Hector looked positively disturbed now. Pale as a sheet and about to break the lock open, when Isaiah caught his arm. "What about we give her some privacy?"

"She is sick, I can't leave her alone-"

"You have to respect her wishes," Isaiah argued gently.

Seline wondered if she should ask permission—Hector acted a lot more like a wolf when stressed out—then shrugged, pushing the blond wolf aside, knocking herself instead. "Olive, are you okay? Can I bring you anything?"

There was the distinct sound of sniffling, even from behind the door, that must have been that much louder to the wolves behind her.

Hector's eyes were huge, face going from white to red. "Let me go, damn it-"

"It's okay, Hex," came a whimpering response. "Can you go for a minute- S-Seline, could you- could I have Seline here?"

Hector looked like that was the last straw, when Isaiah grabbed him by the arm and pushed him towards the door. "We are going on a short walk, okay?" He looked at Seline, pointing at his pocket wth the phone.

Seline nodded in understanding, waiting till the door slammed shut behind them. The atmosphere was distrubing, shaky and needed a moment of quiet before it felt less anxious.

"Olive?" she asked, not knocking this time, just waiting. It didn't really make sense why she would want her around instead of her boyfriend, but so be it. "Can I do anything?"

There was a long minute of shuffling around before the door finally unlocked.

Olive's face was as red as a tomato, tear tracks were all over her puffy cheeks. She brushed crumpled toilet paper against her running nose. She was wearing Hector's too-big hoodie, and her arms were completely lost in the sleeves.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Seline cooed, unsure what reaction would be appropriate and acceptable.

Olive watched her with those big lost eyes, so unlike herself, then reached her arms for Seline and tackled her in a hug.

Seline huffed in suprise, but returned the embrace. Olive was a lot more tactile than anyone she ever met. Rubbing her back hesistatnly, she was trying to wake up whatever human instincts usually responded to these things so she wouldn't stand there like a pillar of ice.

"I'm s-sick," Olive said, burying her crying face into Seline's chest—the black haired girl was much smaller than the blonde. "Woke up with sniffles, though it was just a cold...then threw up."

"Ahh man, I'm so sorry."

"P-probably have a fever. Always makes me cry." Olive backed up a little to give Seline access. "Could you check?"

Shaking off the surprise, Seline reached over to touch Olive's forehead. Her cold hand from the outside felt burned by the overheated, sweaty skin underneath. "You are probably right."

"Sorry. It's just that Hector freaks out when he sees tears...I don't want him to be so panicked over it. It's normal, it's just-" Olive shrugged, a fresh dose of tears running down. "Like a little kid, huh?"

Seline was completely floored with how naturally Olive leaned into her as if this was normal to her.

"I should go to the pharmacy," Seline said, placing her hands on Olive's shoulders. "Get a thermometer and meds, what do you say? Does your stomach still hurt?"

"Uhm," Olive said, then snuggled against Seline again, struggling to hold her weight. "Could you stay?"

That was the opposite of what she needed to do though. Seline sighed, leading the sick girl back to the room she shared with Hector. She helped her bury under the blankets, brought a mixing bowl and water...but Olive was stretching out her hand and wanted to be held and it was so strange.

Still needed that pharmacy, Seline didn't have much against stomach flus packed up. And it would be difficult to explain to the pharmacist what they needed, nobody talked English here.

In the end, she decided to text Alessia if she could go and explain what meds they needed. Maybe as a local, the girl might also know the best sorts of remedies for this situation.

...

It has been a while since Isaiah had seen Hector this disturbed.

"We need to go back, this is fucking nonsense-"

"She asked you to go," Isaiah reminded.

"It's not fair! And it makes no sense! She takes care of me when I'm sick and it's fine, I have done it for her before, this is ridiculous-"

"Keep walking. You are not exactly the picture of calm right now."

"I know what my girlfriend needs."

Isaiah barely held back from rolling his eyes. He so didn't care about these ego expressions of who had more right to do what in a relationship.

Maybe Hector knew her better and knew when to push through resistance? But Olive didn't strike him as someone confused or unsure of what she wanted.

"Seline is with her. She was distressed; maybe she just needed time to pull herself together."

Hector gave him an angry glare, chest rising and falling rapidly. "You have no fucking idea-"

"I don't know Olive enough, yes. But I know the feeling when you are overwhelmed by sickness and you can’t be looked at." Isaiah’s voice was calm, too calm, and it only seemed to incense Hector further.

"Don’t lecture me," Hector snapped, teeth clenched, hands shaking. "Don’t talk about us like you know—"

"I wasn’t talking about you," Isaiah said, still walking, gaze fixed forward.

That stopped Hector for a second. Just a second. Then he barked a bitter laugh and turned away, rubbing his face like it was burning. "This is driving me insane," he muttered. “I should be there. I’m useless out here."

"You’re not," Isaiah replied. "You’re doing what she asked." Maybe she had a good reason.

"No, it’s nothing! It’s doing nothing!"

They had reached a quiet path at the edge of the hill overlooking the lake, tourist signs scattered along the walkway, empty picnic tables glowing in the late morning light. Hector stopped walking, his whole body taut with a sharp kind of energy, shoulders hunched, hands curled.

Isaiah could smell it now. The adrenaline, the spiral. Something inside Hector was unraveling.

"Hector," Isaiah started carefully, "you need to slow down your breathing."

But it was already happening. Hector’s breath hitched, too fast, too shallow. His hand went to his throat like it was closing. "I can’t—I can’t breathe—I can’t—"

"Look at me." Isaiah stepped in front of him. "Look at me, Hex."

Hector looked up, eyes wide and glassy, lips trembling.

"You’re panicking."

"No," Hector gasped, and swayed. "I’m not—don’t tell me—"

But Isaiah didn’t argue. He reached out, hands firm but slow, and placed them gently on Hector’s upper arms, grounding him. "Breathe with me," he said, his voice dropping into that low, steady cadence he used when wolves lost control. "In through the nose… come on. With me. In. Hold it. Now out—long and slow."

Hector tried, but choked. His knees gave out and he dropped to the nearest bench, clutching his stomach.

And then he doubled over and retched.

Isaiah moved too, sitting down beside him. Rubbing small circles into his back as Hector threw up onto the grass beside the walkway.

"There you go," Isaiah murmured, tone unchanged. "Let it out. You’re okay."

Hector’s hands were shaking violently. His whole body was. Isaiah didn’t move, just stayed there, warm hand on his spine, steady and close.

"I hate this," Hector croaked, when he could breathe again, resting his forehead against his forearm. “I hate feeling like this—useless and weak and—"

"You’re not weak," Isaiah said immediately.

Hector gave a broken little laugh. "You have no idea what it’s like."

Isaiah’s hand paused, but didn’t lift. "You think I don’t?"

Hector didn’t answer.

There was a long silence then. Just the wind rustling in the trees above, the lapping of the lake far below, and Isaiah’s quiet, solid presence next to him.

After a while, Isaiah stood and shrugged off his jacket, laying it over Hector’s shoulders.

"You’re cold."

"I just threw up. Look somewhere else."

“I’ve seen worse.”

"Don’t."

Isaiah raised an eyebrow. "Don’t what?"

"Don’t be nice." Hector’s voice cracked.

Isaiah hesitated, then sat down again beside him.

"I’m not being nice, I’m being honest. You’re not okay, and that’s okay. You’re not useless. You’re overwhelmed. And that means you care." His voice was softer now. "It means you love her."

Hector’s breath hitched again, but this time it didn’t spiral. His eyes shimmered. He looked away.

Isaiah didn’t push.

"Take it slow," he said after a beat. "Breathe. Watch the lake. Then you can go back. Let her know you’re okay too."

#sickfic #emeto #hurt/comfort #vomiting #panic attack #sick #bromance #werewolf wip #my writing #Olive #Hector #🍇anon

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alan-becker-confessions · 23 days ago

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i like to think that victim and chosen made the exact same face when seeing the dearest person on their lives die right in front of them (dark and mitsi) - 🍇

Why do you do this to me

#confessions #mod ivy #🍇 anon #ava tdl #ava tco #ava mitsi #ava victim

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luv-lock · 2 months ago

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WHERE ARE THESE ACCUSATIONS COMIN FROM?!!! hello!?

-🍇

I don't fucking know???

It's probably because I write for Damian.

That's the child that they call me a pedo because:

#🐰.ask #🍇.anon

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faithinlouisfuture · 5 months ago

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I follow you for Louis and know nothing about F1 so tell me please: is this Lando man a lil fruity? Bc I get vibes.

asgeshdjirjrkdkdnd girrrrrrrl (ng) I will literally not say one word and only present to you Exhibit A of ♾️

#anon #🌚🌚🌚#🍒🍓🍓🍇🍎🍑🍊🍋🍍🍌🥑🍏🍈🍐🥝🥭🫐#lando norris #this too can be categorized as the #loudo agenda #exhibit a (to z)

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yanoverload · 5 months ago

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Preciso fazer uma pergunta que está batutando na minha cabeça mas sabe a tradição de comer 12 uvas verdes debaixo da mesa pra ter sorte no amor??? Vc acha que um dos yanderes faria isso pra ter sorte com o Darling ??? Sério eu tô pensando nisso faz uns 15 minutos

- 🍇 (eu ia mandar em inglês prós nossos queridos gringos mas eu tô levemente bêbado e o meu inglês quase vira latin)

Translation: I need to ask a question that's been going around in my head, but do you know the tradition of eating 12 green grapes under the table to have luck in love??? Do you think one of the yanderes would do that to have luck with Darling??? Seriously, I've been thinking about this for about 15 minutes.

🍇 MY LOVE READ THE CHRISTMAS POST I DID!!! OMG WE ARE ONE IN THE SAME CUZ I WROTE ABOUT RAMUNE DOIN IT!!!!

He loves these little love spells and tricks... Anything he sees on tiktok? he's doin it!!! Has done love spells before (with yours and his cum inside it because I think it's funny) also loves to mess up with religious stuff.... I didn't add to his kink list but he def has a hierophilia!

The lil diva

#samhain talks #asks #yandere oc #sub yandere #male yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere incubus #🍇 anon #come to brazil

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nanawritesit · 1 year ago

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Aahhh anon 🍇 here i just wanted to say i love your works sm and so glad that most of the time im early to read ur works (cough cough I set up the notification thingy— cough cough) but a small reminder to not stress yourself over request and always stay healthy and be happy! <3

oh my goodness, you’re so sweet anon 🍇 i think i might cry 😭💞 i’m so glad you like my writing :) thank you so much for the reminder! i try not to stress over writing, but sometimes i do feel really guilty about not writing as much, so this really helped me feel better 🥰 i hope you stay happy and healthy as well!

#anon 🍇

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dontmakemeright · 1 year ago

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Hey Sir, I'm curious whats your favorite way to fuck someone? Mouth, Pussy, Ass? On their hands and knees, them riding you, laying down? Because you get so many fantasys, but like... what are yours? ~🍇

Hi baby ♡

I'm really into different stuff for different moods and situations. I'm insanely into giving oral, pussy or ass or cock or whatever. Recieving oral is more of a power thing for me or a treat if my sub is really into it. I actually prefer having eye contact or being able to see my partner's expressions, so I really like good old missionary in every way and good Lord, riding. Or holding them up against a wall, sitting, taking them on the side. When I'm really in the mood I enjoy face in the pillow, ass up, just rough and primal fucking too.

Mostly I'm into whatever I know my sub or partner's getting off at the most because my main turn on is the other person being an absolute mess because they're so fucking turned on ~

#🍇 anon #ftm dom #ftm top #ftm trans #trans dom #trans top #dom/sub #ftm t4t #trans boy #trans man #anon ask

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literatureloverx · 9 months ago

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It’s genuinely hard to choose but I think what really hooked me to your content, and what felt the most original and unique, where the “ideal types” posts. I love them and I can’t wait for the next ones you have planned (I believe Nikolai’s and idk if any others?). You also seem so down to earth from your posts and intelligent and analytical (I love and share your take on Mori, and if you write about him I’ll go over the moon). Also omg I just saw your posts with pics of how you imagine Fyodor and his darling’s house— another thing that proves my point of you thinking of everything, doing things that feel unique and everything I said!! Love you and your content <3

— 🍇

PS: Oh I also saw that post about what’d happen if someone hurt Fyodor’s girl, but then I wondered… since his ideal type focused a lot on her “purity”, and him being kinda traditional… would he feel disappointed or treat her differently/lose interest if she was r*ped?

Hello, dear 🍇-anon!♥️

Thank you so much for your heartfelt words (I’m not sure how to handle so much flattery, but thank you)! ♥️

I plan to write Nikolai’s and possibly Akutagawa’s ideal type posts in the near future. I love you too! ♥️

MDNI. I never mentioned the word 'r*pe' and it’s not descriptive, but it’s definitely suggestive. Read with caution.

Regarding your request: I don’t think so, because it’s not her fault. She is vulnerable and, well, a woman. I imagine he sees his darling as someone who needs protection, as she’s not fully capable of protecting herself.

If something like that were to happen to her, he wouldn’t blame her—it would be the fault of those who were supposed to protect her in his absence.

To him, she would still be ‘pure’—pure, but damaged. I can definitely see him struggling emotionally, even becoming angry because he doesn’t fully understand why he feels so affected.

After all, many women endure such horrible things, often worse—he feels he shouldn’t be this wounded by it. Yet, he wouldn’t be able to help himself, and he wouldn’t be great at consoling her either.

His strength in other manipulation tactics (like making her forget the event) comes from his usual lack of deep emotional investment. But in this case, he’d be wounded too, and it would be a difficult time for both of them. Still, he’d eventually find a way to help them both move past it, sooner or later.

Wow, writing about this made me very emotional. If there are people reading this who have gone through something like this, please feel hugged and loved, because you are somebody, and it is not your fault. We live in a corrupt world, but together, we can work toward the goal of making it a more livable place for both women and children. ♥️

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd fyodor #yandere bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #🍇 anon #🍇-anon

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