st_vincent: 36 hours in France to play a really fun show. Got to see my friend star in a movie. Got to meet one of my favorite directors of all time. Got to see some of my favorite musicians and old friends. Got to talk to some rad women after the livestream rebroadcast. Feeling very lucky. My heart is sick over the Texas elementary school shooting. Really glad Stacey Abrams won the nomination for Georgia. I dunno, everybody. Take care of yourselves. I guess we oughta do what Maggie Nelson says and practice radical kindness. I don’t have the answer. Just wishing everybody the best. Truly. @prada @margaretqualley #clairedenis @tindersticks_uk @jessicalaksmi #maggienelson @staceyabrams
15 notes
·
View notes
finnick odair who loves watching you a little too much.
“that’s it, honey.” finnick had you laid on the mattress, thighs trembling, lips abused— red and bitten. but you were frustrated. finnick odair, instead of being on top of you, was sitting across the room; he had not laid a single finger on you the entire night leading up to this. he was resting comfortably on the loveseat that felt like lightyears away, refusing to just walk over and fuck you stupid like you deserved.
his legs were spread, repositioning himself whenever he would twitch—body telling him to get up and take you in all ways imaginable. but a sick and twisted part of him loved that feeling, the delicious burn under his hands as he gripped the armrests to force himself to sit still. he clicked his tongue, giving a wicked, all teeth grin. “honey… you can do it, don’t stop on me now. it wouldn’t be very,” he paused, watching your fingers slow down at your hot and bothered clit. like the tease finnick is, he let out a long, breathy moan to finish his sentence, “nice.” you strangled out a pathetic whimper, a nonverbal beg for him to please get away from that chair and finish what he started.
you had already orgasmed once, when finnick was gently talking you through—promised he’d take care of you after. he lied, and now you were trying to force yourself through a second, and finnick hasn’t even dared to touch himself. despite this, you could tell he was influenced by the sight of you; breath heavy and hot, biting his lips and brows knitting together when you’d arch your back or ask him oh so kindly to touch you. how much you needed him, it should have been written in the bible. your eyebrows furrowed, eyes closing in pure exhaustion and exasperation. “please, finn—“ you whined out, fingers lazily playing with yourself as your other hand traced up and down your stomach. you were desperate, attempted to taunt him closer, “i know you want to touch… to,” you whimper, two fingers slipping inside yourself, “kiss me, to fuck me.”
finnick’s eyes drank in the state of you as if you were the last drop of water in a chalice, his own fingers twitching against the armrests. “finnick,” you sighed, fingers slowly moving as your hips bucked against them, “you’re so mean to me…” and finnick loved the way your teary doe eyes opened and caught his, like you were speaking to his soul. his hands finally moved, rushing to undo his pants and move them down low enough to pull himself out. your eyes shifted down, letting out a quiet moan when he finally broke, thumb playing at his tip. “you know your way with words, sweet girl,” he praised, eyes fluttering as he got off to you pleasuring yourself.
neither of you lasted long after that, finnick talking you through your second orgasm as he tugged at his cock. “look what you do to me—fuck, keep touching yourself.” you incoherently sobbed out little ‘yeah’s’ and ‘’m so close, finn.’ after both of you came, calming down from the delicious highs of sadistic edging, you struggled out a weak, “i’m gettin’ rid of that chair.”
2K notes
·
View notes
the more I listen to this album, the more impressed I get by the concept of writing an entire record about an intense romance when everyone was expecting a devastating narrative of the breakup that preceded it, except in reality, you pepper enough hints to paint a thorough, unforgiving picture of the mental state that made you believe that rebound was worth it in the first place. she tells us she would spend forever pining for him if they didn’t try to be together, that they would kill themselves if the other person ever left, but she refutes those claims herself a few songs later. she makes it clear that she’s too broken to be trusted, and then she gets mad at you for not trusting her. underneath it all, the story of what broke her in the first place simmers, and you’re ultimately left with sixteen songs about the rashest decisions she’s ever made. figuring out what got her there is up to you. it’s all in the text. she hates being analyzed, but she wants you to analyze her. she talks about being manipulated like a doll, and she does the same to you.
370 notes
·
View notes