#don’t stop my beautification

[lgbtally4ever]

DON’T STOP MY BEAUTIFICATION!

Starring Raiku from

LIFE-LOVE ON THE LINE

It looks really good from the preview in the above article

And, here are some pics from the series…

[second-axis-point]

MY GOD OLEASE WRITE MORE BLUSHY JOEL!! I DONT CARE HOW BUT PLEASE WRITE MORE🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Pairing: Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Warnings: None!

Content: Flustered Blushy Joel, Kisses, Praise

I just saw that post from ihugpedro. Kissing Joel's back. I’m having thoughts. The gears are turning gentlemen. Thanks for the request! 🧡

Scars and All

Your favourite body part of Joel’s, beside the obvious, was his back. You rarely had the pleasure of seeing him shirtless due to the fact that he was so self conscious about his body. You never pushed him about it not wanting him to be uncomfortable around you. But when he did allow you to see, you were all over him. You always did your very best to show him how handsome he was. Today was one of those days.

It was an insanely hot day in the QZ and of course, your shared apartment’s air conditioning had stopped working the day before. You had ditched your usual outfit of flannel and jeans in favour of just a pair of basketball shorts but Joel had held out. He just rolled up his sleeves and laid out on the couch. He was tense and touchy. You asked if he was hot and even offered him a short sleeve shirt but he declined. Simply stating that he’ll power through it. You sigh but relent, walking by him to grab the book you were reading and plopping down in the broken recliner next to him.

You read a few pages but looked up when you heard shuffling from the couch beside you. Joel had sat up and was peeling off the sweaty flannel that he had been adorning since that morning. You averted your eyes so as to not embarrass him but he didn't seem to notice, only tossing the shirt onto the coffee table and flopping back down. He was facing the back of the couch and away from you. You could see the curve of his spine. The definition of his shoulder blades. The slight softness near his hips. The freckles that decorated his skin. The small scars that cover him.

It made your breath hitch and your face heat up. You clear your throat and go back to your book, only pretending to read. You look up every once in a while. You kept up your charade until Joel’s voice cut through the silence.

“I can feel you gawking at me darlin’”

You furrow your brow.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about Miller.”

You close your book and toss it onto the table.

“Mmhm. Whatever you say.”

You get up and sit on the edge of the couch, a hand on his hip. He sits up once again, facing away from you. You scoot up behind him and put a leg on each side. You press a kiss to his neck while you wrap your arms around him.

“It’s way too hot for you to be wrapped around me like this.”

He pokes fun at you. You apologise and start to shuffle back away but you get stopped by Joel grabbing your knee. It was his turn to apologise, telling you that you could get up if you wanted to. You just smile and take your place behind him. You left some space between you so he could back away if he needed to.

You kiss the base of his neck, watching his reaction. You could see the pink rising to his ears. You continue down his spine until you reach his shoulder blades. You rub your fingertips along the line of a particularly deep scar. You then put a hand on his jaw, turning his head towards you so you could kiss the scar on his temple. This made his eyes water a bit but he only leans further into your touch. You kiss every scar you could reach without bending yourself in half. You admire the freckles that spreckle across his back.

“God, you're so pretty.”

You could physically feel the fire light in his veins. Joel’s face flushed and you could feel him practically go limp in your grasp. Your smile brightened.

“You shouldn’t hide underneath all of those layers all the time.”

No response.

“Though I do feel honoured to be the only one you trust with this.”

You say in between kisses.

“Shut up.”

He mumbles into his chest.

“What? I’m being honest.”

He leans back, forcing you down so that you were both laying on your backs with him on top of you.

“You are the most beautiful and charming man I've ever met in my life.”

You felt him heat up further. You were sort of afraid that you would give Joel heatstroke if you kept on. But he flipped over so he had his head, and a hand, on your chest. You ran a hand through his slightly sweaty hair, pulling strands from his forehead, and a hand down the line of his spine. You traced constellations with the freckles on his back and shoulders. Random patterns and games of connect the dot. You felt Joel relax under you.

“Y’know I love when you let me see you.”

He makes a noncommittal noise.

“I love you Joel Miller.”

That made him lift his head up. He met your eyes and gave you a soft smile. A smile that could melt the sun. A smile that could lift your spirits on the very worst of days. His smile.

“I love you too.”

Your lips meet and break apart all too quickly. His head drops to your chest and a sigh escapes him. Joel slept with his shirt off after that day. He was finally comfortable enough to let himself be open around you.

[apricia]

For ever by your side/ Aemond Targaryen x reader

Prolog: Alyssa Targaryen - Second of her name

King's Landing was in a celebratory mood. People celebrated Princess Helaena Targaryen's first name day. The little princess was barely aware of the celebrations held in her honor. Slept peacefully in the care of her governess. A big tournament drew all the lords, ladies and knights to the capital. While King Viserys, his Lord Hand, and the small council enjoyed the brutal games, Queen Alicent rubbed her plump belly. Her daughter's first birthday was just celebrated and she was already carrying her third child under her heart. She knew it would be a boy. Felt it in her heart. Another son for the king. Another descendant of Valyria. Silver hair, purple eyes. Alicent had wished that at least one child would not have these traits, but she knew that Valyrian blood was strong and at least her loyalty to the king would never be questioned. She was a loyal wife, a good queen. Just like her father asked of her. And so she once again carried a child of the king. It would only be a few months, if even weeks, until the birth. Not an event she was looking forward to. She remembered too much the pain of her last delivery. Squeezing Helaena out of her body had been excruciating, not nearly as easy as Aegon's, if childbirth could even be called easy. Alicent flinched when she was kicked in the ribs just as one of the opponents was knocked off his horse. A little fighter was growing inside her, she was sure of that. "Your Grace, I hate to interrupt the celebrations in honor of the Princess, but there is one matter that you must attend to. It cannot be postponed." Ser Harrold Westerling appeared next to the royal couple and although his voice was low, Alicent understood every word. What troubled her was the deep furrows on the Lord Commander's forehead. "What's so important, Ser Harrold, that it can't wait until after the tournament?" Viserys asked, frowning at his follower. "A woman has appeared in the keep, demanding an talk with you, Your Majesty." Alicent pricked up her ears at the word woman. She gritted her teeth and looked at her husband. Viserys was loyal to her, she knew that. Although he wasn't the husband she would have chosen for herself, she couldn't deny that he was good to her. Loving, decent and kind. He took no other women into his bed. No, he wasn't in the least like his brother Daemon, who hated his own wife and shared a bed with every whore in Fleabottom. A tight smile appeared on her face. No, thank the gods the king wasn't like that. "What woman?" Viserys demanded, and Alicent found him glancing sideways at her. Ser Harrold cleared his throat and his cheeks suddenly blushed with embarrassment. "She is a whore, Your Majesty, but she says the matters she has to discuss with you are important." Alicent struggled to her feet and rubbed her stomach. The little warrior in her had stopped kicking, as if he, too, would hold his breath and want to know what important matter it was that demanded the king's attention on his daughter's nameday. "Husband, it seems to me that the matter is urgent, we should deal with it immediately," Alicent smiled at Viserys. She knew perfectly well that Ser Harrold had only wanted to speak to the king, but something told Alicent that she needed to meet this woman. This whore who considered herself important enough to demand an audience with the king and whom the guards let into the keep instead of publicly flogging her and sending her back to the whore house she came from. "My dear, you don't have to come. Enjoy the tournament, I can take care of it myself." "No, a little walk is good for me. Your son is very active today." To emphasize her words, she rubbed her bulging stomach with a smile. Not long now and she would be holding her third child in her arms. Viserys nodded and offered her his arm. The carriage ride into the keep didn't take long, but Alicent certainly hadn't been prepared for what awaited she there. In the great hall stood a woman, beautiful, dark hair, dark eyes, and her skin was sunkissed. She looked too elegant for an ordinary whore, was dressed too finely and her posture too self-confident.

"What's the meaning of this?" Viserys demanded, helping Alicent down the few steps in the throneroom. "Your Majesties," the woman said in a musical voice that made Alicent squint. The woman held a basket in her hands and from a distance the young queen saw that something was moving in it. "My name is Mysaria, Your Grace. I -" "You are friend of my brother's, I remember you." Viserys eyed the woman, then looked skeptically at the basket in her hands. "Still, I don't understand what you want here. For your last interactions with my brother, I could have had you killed." He looked at the Kingsguard and grimaced as if he wanted to lynch them for taking him away from the tournament for a whore who was consorting with his brother. "I know that and I am very grateful to you for showing mercy to me, my king. But the affairs with Prince Daemon at that time do not bring me here today. At least not entirely." "Then what brings you into the red keep?" Alicent now demanded to know. Her hand rested on the bulge of her stomach. She was glad to have left the children with their wet nurse. Aegon was three years old and far too wild to endure his curiosity and energy for any length of time. "I'm coming at the behest of a friend." The way she used the word friend let everyone in the room know that said friend was also in the industry as Mysaria. The woman put down the basket and took out the bundle inside. There was a scream and Alicent flinched. A child's cry echoed through the room and Alicent narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Whose child is this?" demanded Viserys, who seemed to be losing patience. "Your brother's." Alicent's eyes widened and she stared at the crying baby in the whore's arms. One look was enough to know that this child was of House Targaryen. Silvery white hair, purple eyes. Alicent let out a snort. They were brought here because Daemon got a whore pregnant? Was she serious? Alicent understood an important matter differently. But Viserys stepped forward and stopped just inches from Mysaria. His eyes on the child. "She is beautiful," said the king in awe. "She is, Your Majesty. But sadly motherless now. Which is why I'm here." Visery's eyes darted from the whore to the child in her arms and to Alicent, who was watching the situation suspiciously. "Motherless? What happened?" "Her mother died in childbirth last week, Your Grace. It's common for women like us to stick together and raise children that result from relationships with our clients, but this is different. She is different” said Mysaria, smiling down at the child as she said her last words. "What do you expect from the king?" Alicent asked unabashedly and stepped closer to the whore and her husband. "That he tracks down Daemon so he can take care of his bastard himself?" Mysaria shook her head. "Your brother is in town, I've already spoken to him. He doesn't want anything to do with the child - his only child, mind I say." Alicent nodded. She didn't think much of Daemon, never did. He was wild, moody and selfish. Didn't understand honor, duty and loyalty. "Daemon is here?" Viserys asked. Sorrow in his voice. "He was." Alicent said nothing about the fact that her brother-in-law had not even had the decency to appear before the king or at his niece's second nameday celebrations. Gods, how she despised this man. "And he rejected this enchanting being?" Viserys asked further. A smile appeared on the king's face and only then did Alicent realize that the child had stopped crying. Instead, it looked at Viserys. Alicent guessed the child would be a few months old, maybe three or four. Her husband grabbed the little creature and stroked his cheek. A chuckle was heard. "What do you intend to do, husband?" Alicent asked, putting a hand on Viserys' shoulder. She prayed that the king would force his brother to take the child. It would be a fair punishment for this lecher. Alicent would only be sorry for the child. Having Daemon Targaryen as a father was a shame. This man was a disgrace. He had already rejected his child without even meeting it. Viserys looked at Alicent, back at the baby. "Does she have a name?" he asked Mysaria. "Not yet, her mother hadn't given her one, she fell ill with a fever right after the birth and wasn't able to take care of the little one." Viserys nodded his understanding and then stretched out his arms. "May I?"

Without hesitation, she placed the child in the king's outstretched arms, who held it tightly to his chest. Alicent saw the smile on her husband's face. He was always in a good mood when it came to children, although Alicent wished he would bring that cheerfulness and warmth to her own children more often. The only person who she ever sah Viserys to bring such an loving expression was Rheanyra. As if she was his only child and Alicents children with him were worth nothing.  "Alyssa," came the king's voice. "Her name should be Alyssa and she should live here in the keep with us." His words were full of warmth, but at the same time there was a determination that made Alicent swallow. Alyssa had been his mother's name. A woman the king always spoke good things about. Of her beauty, her kindness and her strength. "You want to take the child in?" she asked her husband. He nodded. Alicent was expecting her third child, but she had no intention of raising another - a stranger, mind you. Especially not when it was the offspring of Daemon, who fathered it with a common whore. "Alicent, you may not understand, but it has always been my wish that my children and my brother's grow up together. As cousins, maybe more as siblings. I wanted our children to be close." Alicent understood her husband's wishes only too well. He always wished to be closer to his brother. To have a good relationship with him. But unfortunately that was not the case. Therefore, she could understand the wish that at least their children understood each other. Still, it wasn't what she wanted. "Unfortunately, by the late Lady Rhea, my brother had no children and I do not care who the mother of this little creature is. She is my niece and is now under my protection. I want her to stay here and grow up alongside my children. She will be an excellent playmate for Princess Helaena, don’t you think, my dear? Perhaps for our next child as well." Alicent put a hand on her stomach and felt another kick. As if the unborn in her agreed with his father's words, as if he wanted to keep Daemon's daughter as a comrade. Alicent nodded, knowing she couldn't change Viserys' mind. "Then let her stay." She stepped closer to her husband and looked at the little girl who was still smiling at her uncle. "Alyssa Waters," Alicent said, smiling. "No, my dear," contradicted the king. "Alyssa Targaryen, second of her name." Alicent's eyes widened. "Targaryen?" she asked, stunned. This kid was a bastard. She was the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and an unnamed whore! "Yes, Alyssa Targaryen," Viserys repeated his niece's name. "As king of the realm, I legitimize her. She's my brother's only child and I don't care about her origins. If she grows up here in the keep, alongside my children, then she'll be what she is: a Targaryen. And she's meant to be treated such are. From today, in her cradle, there will be a dragon egg by her side. Syrax laid two eggs. Our child will have one, and she shall have the other." And with that, the fate of this child changed from one second to the next. The daughter of a whore, insignificant and destitute, had become a princess, entitled to her father's inheritance, and future dragon rider in the blink of an eye. Alicent just looked at her husband without a word and shook her head almost imperceptibly. What was it about this baby that made her legitimate? Gave her a dragon egg? Was she that engaging? So special? Alicent strongly dared to doubt. But she would discover in time that Viserys wasn't the only Targaryen men who was immediately charmed by the child. Her unborn child, her second son, would follow his father's example.

[lackadaisicallizard]

Smart

A ravenrock microfic (peter x benjy)

“My mind is blank.” Peter’s head is in his hands, his tone defeated. 

“Come on babe, you know this one,” Benjy replies, his voice as calm and patient as ever. It’s a little infuriating how collected he is sometimes.

“When will I ever need to know the properties of a boomslang in my day to day life?” 

Benjy chuckles. “If you ever get bitten by one, you might change your tune.” 

Peter cocks an eyebrow at his amused boyfriend. “I’m never going to be stupid enough to get bitten by one.” 

“Didn’t you say James did when he was a kid once?” 

“Exactly.” 

Benjy laughs again, shaking his head. “I love you.” 

Peter hums. “Will you still love me if I fail this potions essay?” 

“You’re not going to fail the potions essay! You’ve got the best tutor in the school.” 

Peter’s lips curl up into a smirk. “Oh yeah, and when does he show up then?” 

“Oh fuck you, Pettigrew.” 

The smirk widens. “Is that an offer?” 

Benjy rolls his eyes but leans in all the same, waiting for Peter to meet him halfway before pressing their lips together. It starts as a slow kiss because even if they are tucked away in the corner, they’re still in the school library. 

Then one of Peter’s hands finds Benjy’s cheek and he feels a hand on his knee as the Ravenclaw moves in even closer. Peter can’t help but smile into the kiss, the warmth of the moment contrasting with the coolness of the library. As their kiss deepens, Peter’s fingers gently trace the outline of the other boy’s jaw, and the faintest gasp escapes Benjy’s lips as Peter’s fingers find the nape of his neck, weaving his fingers into soft brown hair and holding him there. 

Time seems to slow, and the awareness of their surroundings fades away, leaving only this moment. Only Benjy. 

Always Benjy. 

Driving him crazy with his beautiful face and even more beautiful brain. 

God, he wishes he could just live inside the brain of Benjy Fenwick, even just for a day. Just to see inside the mind of someone truly beautiful and witty and just good. 

Peter knows he doesn’t deserve him, but he’s far too selfish to give him up now. 

Because even if he can’t live inside Benjy’s mind, Benjy lives in his. He always will. 

They pull apart then, their breathing a little ragged, their heart rates slightly more elevated than they were a few minutes ago. 

“Can we ditch the studying yet?” Peter asks, already knowing the answer. 

Benjy smiles as he leans back in his chair, his eyes still very much sparkling as they stay on Peter’s face. “Not a chance, Pettigrew.”

It was worth a shot. 

“What if I told you that boomslang skin is used in both polyjuice and beautification potions?” 

Benjy blinks at him. “Did you know that the whole time?” 

Peter puts on his best innocent expression. “Maybe.” 

“Then why on Earth did you pretend you didn’t?” 

“Because when I don’t know things you tell me the answers, and I love when you tell me things.”

“Really?”

Peter nods. “Seriously. I could hear you go on about shrivelfigs for hours. Your mind is ridiculously sexy.”  

Benjy is quiet for a good ten seconds then as he stares at his boyfriend with a stunned expression. Peter is just starting to worry about the silence when Benjy stands up and holds out his hand. Peter takes it, bewildered, as he also stands and follows the other boy’s lead through the library. 

Peter finds his voice as they pass through the door. “Um, Benjy, where are we going?” 

“Back to your dorm.” Benjy’s tone is firm. 

“What about the studying?” Peter asks the question but has no intention on stopping the current unexpected chain of events. 

“We’ll get back to that later.”

“Is this because I called your brain sexy?” 

“Partly, yes.” 

“And the other part?” 

Benjy stops them then. They’re at the base of the stairs to Gryffindor tower. “What is a Chizpurfle carapace used for?”

Peter furrows his brow. “Um, what?” 

“Just answer the question, Pettigrew.” 

“Um, they’re often used in antidotes to common poisons, but they’re quite hard to break open so they’re often fed to venomous tentaculas first.” 

Benjy takes an audible breath at that, eyes widening slightly. “And Horklump juice?” 

“It’s used in the making of various magical ointments. Benjy, what is this-“ 

His question is cut off as he finds himself pushed up against the castle wall, Benjy’s mouth finding his once again. They kiss for an extended moment before coming up for air, Peter using the break to ask a question. 

“Not that I’m complaining about this in the slightest, but are you telling me that me knowing the properties of potions ingredients is turning you on right now?” 

Benjy shrugs. “Yeah, kind of. Is that a problem?” 

Peter smiles, noting the lightly flushed skin only inches away from his own. Benjy’s lips have been kissed a darker shade of pink and his usually neat hair is slightly disheveled. 

“Nope. Not a problem at all.” 

“Good.” Another chaste kiss. “Just one thing.” 

“Yes?” Peter doesn’t even need to know what it is that he wants, he would give Benjy absolutely anything. 

“Don’t hide how smart you are from me. Ever.” 

Peter smiles. “Oh you want a little competition, huh?” 

Benjy snorts. “I wouldn’t go that far, Pettigrew.” 

“Are you underestimating me, Fenwick?” 

A smirk. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

And he knows in that moment that he means it, because people underestimate Peter all the time. He’s used to it. He often prefers it, even. 

But with Benjy- well he’s finally met his match. 

Because Benjy sees him. Not his friends, not his pranks, not Wormtail or Pete, but him. 

Peter Pettigrew.

Whose world is slowly beginning to revolve around a wonderful, kind, blue-eyed, pink-cheeked, brown-haired boy. And as they stand there, wrapped in the moment of each other, Peter is nothing but grateful for the boy who sees him for who he truly is.

[siremasterlawrence]

Warping Cupid

A cool air is swirling into my room from my master bedroom window which is currently half way open and I can feel a kind, and calm presence flow over me. I flip to the other side of the bed to see this figure in a strange glow of color sitting in my chair waving at me as I leap upward to see a angel. He has a strange red wings appears as velvet color supremely blinding me in a state awe and shock totally lost to the idea I could be in danger.

He is a Cupid snapping his finger a blow of red roses floor through the window swoops around him and reform his the thorns go at it ripping his clothes. He floats back onto the chair now half naked expect for his short pants and gold shoes adorning his feet he is quite as he floats in to the air something is about to happen. Next thing I know my body is lit up rising to my ceiling he blows me a kiss and I am left in question of what is going to happen to me.

I am in a garden of roses with multiple short attractive guys with quivers and arrows on them and I cannot believe this is all vividly real too real. He smirks flipping his fingers in to the air a orb of light lands on to his palm transforms in to a harmonic that he plays. The music emerges in to the air as they all start to smile brightly dancing from through out the garden area spreading even more beautification.

“Do you comprehend who I am?” He asks me with a smirk leading me utterly floored at all so coming at me and I back up to see this. I sit on a rock at a loss telling him I am already aware that he is a Cupid he shakes his head and tells me to not be afraid of him he is here for me. “Why on earth did you and would you bring me here?” He plops on to the ground giving me a high five placing his hand on to my shoulder.

“Hahaha! Don’t be scared” he says as a gold dust appears on my hand.

“Use this gold holy dust to hit someone’s heart.”

“Be careful you should be warned.”

“What the person could be obessed”

“Deadly so”

“Hmm! I see then”

“I will have to think about it”

“I would hope so “

“I choose….you”

“Oh Dear! My love”

“What babe?”

“This is not acceptable”

“Not allowed?”

“No! I am flattered”

“So then zip it”

“Nnnoooooo”

“Here we go “

“Bbbblllllffffff”

“I beg you stop”

“This is sinful “

“You are a Cupid “

“So what ?”

“Not a angel”

“Does not matter “

“I am I control here l

“I will send you back “

“You shall not”

“How dare you “

“Step back”

“Watch my hands “

“Don’t blow “

“Bbbfffff”

“Aaaahhhhh!”

“Uuuuugggghhhh!”

“You are a…a sexy specimen “

“The man of my dreams”

“You serve me”

“Of course “

“Walk over here”

“Take my hand “

“Look in to my eyes “

“Get closer “

“Hug me tight “

“Inhale my scent “

“Dog your nose in”

“Feel me up”

“Know my body”

“Inside and out”

“Lay your head on my shoulder “

“Kiss my neck”

“My checks”

“Lick my armpits”

“My cock”

“My ass! Taste your God!”

“What do you will?”

“Tell me your whim?”

“Whatever you wish “

“Don’t be silent “

“Please”

“Speak “

“I am your everything “

“Yes my King”

“Kneel at my feet”

“Kiss my hands”

“Transport me back”

“Us back?”

“Both of us”

“I love your place “

“Do you ?”

“I can make it grandiose “

“Well you have my approval “

“Yes Master”

The end

[ladylooch]

David meeting Sophie for the first time.

A continuation of this blurb

Mack rolls the edge of her wine glass along her bottom lip while taking in the scene across from her. At the kitchen island, David and Sophie are sitting together working on friendship bracelets. Sophie has Devils bracelets for when she goes to Lio’s games, but pointed out she has nothing for the Rangers game tomorrow. David, as he has been all night, turned on the charm and immediately offered to help bead together the bracelets for Sophie.

All night he has been catering to the youngest Hischier- asking her about school, clearing her empty dinner plate, filling her glass of water whenever he filled his, offering to hold the warm dish while she scooped out some potatoes at dinner. Mack can see how Sophie, so young and innocent, is effected by his charm. Mack is not as enchanted. Every move and chuckle and sweet gesture towards her little sister irks Mack to no end. Everything this man does has that effect on her. 

After the last sip of her wine, Mack stands, going over to observe the beads on the counter.

“You could wear this one.” David offers up to her immediately. It has red and blue beads, along with 14 and Carlson with a red heart after it. Mack’s face scrunches at it, then she tosses her long brunette hair over her shoulder before heading further into the kitchen.

“I’ll pass.” She fakes a smile, only for Sophie. “They look great tho, Soph.”

“I can make you one for Connor? You can wear it tomorrow.” Sophie asks.

“Mack? Are you sure you don’t want to come tomorrow night?” Lucie calls from the living room where she is putting in her request for tickets after putting Stella down.

“What?” Sophie whips her head to the side. “You’re not coming? No, Mackie, please! You have to come!” 

“I’ve been to enough hockey games.”

“That was Devils hockey though. Not Ranger hockey.” David shrugs simply as he works a bead onto the stretchy, clear elastic. “This good, Soph?” 

“Um…” Sophie trails off, leaning in closer to David. Mack watches as her little sister obviously inhales some of David’s cologne. Her eyes flutter to David’s face where she blushes, seeing him looking at her, awaiting a response. “Mhm, yeah. It’s great.” She says. Mack makes a face, eyes drifting over to Lucie who is watching too. Lucie looks amused, pursing her lips and shaking her head at Mack like “look at Sophie crushing on him.”

“This will look great on you with that sweatshirt. They have great things at the pro shop now.” 

“You think?” She asks, holding it up t her neck along with the few bracelets she has finished so far. 

“Yes, very beautiful.” David murmurs.

“Thank you!” Sophie exclaims, blushing at the compliment. Mack doesn’t think him saying Sophie is beautiful is right. David is WAY older than her little sister; it is so inappropriate. 

“David, can we talk?” Mack asks him. David startles at the pointed tone, then turns to look at her face. Oh shit, crosses across his expression. He did something, but he has no idea what.

“Uh, Mack?” Lucie questions, on alert.

“Let’s go in the hall.” Mack suggests to him as he stands to follow her. The door doesn’t even get fully shut before Mack is whipping around at him. “Stop hitting on my sister. She is barely fucking legal to you, OLD man.”

“What? I’m not hitting on her?” David genuinely laughs as he puts his hands in his pockets.

“Yes, you are and Sophie is falling for it.”

“Mackncheese, I am not hitting on your sister. I’m being nice.” 

“You call that nice in bumfuck Iowa? Cause here we call that being a fucking creep.” David is taken aback, standing up straighter as Lucie steps into the hallway. 

“Wow, seriously?”

“Yeah seriously!” Mack yells back. 

“Mack, calm down.” Lucie hisses.

“Am I being a fucking creep?” David asks Lucie, looking very hurt. 

“What? No.” Lucie shake her head, looking back at Mack like ‘what the hell?’. 

“Really? Because all grown men clear plates for people and refill glasses and make childish friendship bracelets with beautiful girls at 8pm tonight like he has nothing else to do.” Mack glares at David, arms crossed over her chest as he looks back at her. He shrugs his shoulders lightly. 

“I guess I was just raised different in bumfuck Iowa. You know, to be polite.” Unease pierces through Mack’s anger. Did she misjudge the situation? Silence settles in the hallway before David clears his throat. “Well, thanks for the invite, Luc but I’m gonna head out for the night.” 

“Okay.” Lucie says quietly, stepping aside so David can go back in to gather his things.

It is clear that the remaining people in the apartment heard Mack yelling at David in the hallway. All are quiet and reserved. Mack steps back in, feeling like she is standing in a spotlight, but holding her tongue to not say anymore. David grabs his plate of half eaten chocolate chip cookie, tossing it into the trash with his napkin. He dumps the water out from his cup, then puts it in the dishwasher before closing the door. 

“It was nice meeting you, Sophie. Best of luck with the rest of the school year. And have fun at the game. We will try to get a win for ya.” David waves, not daring to go over to shake her hand.

“It was nice to meet you. Do you want a bracelet?” She asks hopefully.

“Um, no. Thank you though.” David smiles gently, then goes to Con, giving him a hug.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah.” He hugs Lucie last. “Let me know if you still need me to watch Stell on Wednesday. Heard Lio tell you he was gonna be out of town, but I’m around. I know how much you two love your date nights.”

“Yeah, that would be great. I’ll call you Tuesday.”

“Sounds good.”

The last person he has to walk by is the one who is the reason for his early departure. 

“See ya around, Mack.” 

She opens her mouth to say something, but can’t think of what she should right now. Instead, her eyes look out at her family members who all have different levels of disappointment on their faces. The door softly closes behind David and the whole room exhales heavily.

“Nice. That was mature.” Lucie finally says to Mack, rolling her eyes and walking over to help Sophie finish her bracelets.

“What? David was the one-“

“No, you were. You’re the problem here, Mack.” Connor says, not even bothering to sugar coat what the rest of them are saying. Mack bites her lip as she looks at Connor. He crosses the room and gives her a hug that she limply accepts. “He’s good people. Give him a chance.” 

Mack grabs herself another big glass of wine, then sits down at the counter to help both her sisters finish bracelets. As she threads the beads through, she can’t help but think about David down in his apartment right now. She definitely overreacted. But something… she can’t name overcame her! It forced it’s way into her chest and throat until it was spewing angrily out of her mouth. Her brain rewinds the image of  David’s hurt face- his low eyes, squiggly eye brows and slumped posture. He was hurt. Mack hurt his character with her words and insinuation. Why does she keep doing that to him? She looks at Sophie, then at Lucie, before she speaks.

“I’ll go to the game tomorrow.” Both Hischier girls look up at her, then grin.

“Oh! It will be so fun! We can go grab dinner at that new rooftop off 9th and get espresso martinis and then show up totally on time for the game.” Lucie winks, “And they have these amazing-”

“Is Stella coming with us?” Sophie cuts their older sister off, cocking her head to the side.

“Ah…” She contemplates, looking at the ceiling. Nothing about what Lucie rattled off is kid friendly. “Yeah.” She finishes sheepishly.

“So, we can go grab pizza and then be there bright and early for warmies, so Stella can see Connor?” 

“Yep, that sounds more like it.” Lucie laughs, wincing slightly. “Stupid Lio being out of town. We hate him.” Lucie jokingly growls. 

Mack smiles, then goes back to sliding more beads on the bracelet she is working on. She finishes it up, then looks at the whole thing including the Carlson, 14 and the heart. 

Maybe she will wear this one tomorrow for her apology tour at Madison Square Garden.

[prettyboykatsuki]

Fang I'm perched on your blog waiting for you to talk about the angst marriage🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

the visual of you being perched is so cute 😭

tags ; fem!reader (wearing a dress + referred to as wife)+ hurt/comfort (heavy on hurt), errors bc of im on my mobile device, estranged marriages, al-haitham x reader bc he fits the idea better

He always undoes the back of your dress. He’s carefully to have always done it. He did it the first night of your wedding and he’s done it every time you’ve worn one ever since.

You’re fond of the habit. Sometimes, you would wear dresses deliberately so he would undo the binding by hand. To feel the touch of your husbands skin, long and slender fingers against the nape of your neck. You mourn the warmth of it. Even the metal of his wedding band was so lovely.

Lately the habitual act of it is exhausting. It is mechanical, like hard steel. A persistence like the rotting tooth begging to pulled from your mouth. You love your husband, but perhaps you resent him in equal measure. You resent yourself for tenderness. A nerve so raw it cannot touch air without seizing. It is terrible to be estranged like this.

Still, night comes. Al-Haitham stands behind you as you removing all of your beautification. Quietly, silently - he undoes the back of your dress. A dress with buttons along the spine. You take your earrings out. Wipe the stain on your cheeks and mouth. When was the last time you saw him? Had any time alone with him at all? He’s always so cooped up in his studies.

You don’t think it was always so troubling. To be a wife had not felt like a such a duty when you were merely young and in love. The Grand Scribe position is still formally empty, but Al-Haitham has remained in his position.

But now you are entering the later stages of your life. There is lines on your face that were possible with age and time alone. And you are, just a bit lonely. More than you can ever remember being.

“You’re here.” You say, but not spitefully. And despite his difficulties with sincerity, a look of anguish passes over his face. He grabs you shoulder, bending down to kiss it. Regretful. Lonely. Maybe living together makes it hard for someone to stop mimicking you.

“I’m here,” He parrots, rubbing your back in the place he knows it aches most “I’m sorry.”

You smile. Somberly with as little devastation as you can convince him of. You squeeze the hand on your shoulder.

“You’re forgiven,” Because it is not okay, “I’m glad you’re home.” Because you mean it. He laughs humorlessly.

“Me too,”

[mandolin22]

Therapy - Part 5

Warnings: SMUUUUUT 🌶

Full playlist “ 🌊Namor🫧” on Spotify!

Word ct 2.1k

Enjoy 🫡

_______

As rain pounds on the window, thunder rumbles in the distance. You glance up from your computer to look at the droplets racing across the window; the little drop you chose won the race. You then glance over at your night stand which sits the token given to you by the Talokan king. It has been several days since you last saw him and for some reason you are missing him. Missing someone you’ve never actually known. You quickly try to wipe away the smile that appears on your lips and get back to work.

You have been trying to catch up writing the book you had wanted to write for the past couple years. Will you ever finish and publish it? No. It was more of something to keep you busy than anything, especially on days like today where it has been storming most of the day and night.

Several hours later, you finish brushing your retry and head back into your bedroom, putting your pjs on and climbing in bed. Your mind wanders to what it would be like to crawl in bed and into Namors arms. Is he a good cuddler? What would his arms feel like wrapped around you? Breathing in his intoxicating scent, your fingers running through his dark hair, caressing his face, feeing his chest and arms….is it getting hot in here or….you soon fall asleep imagining so many things that you’d never speak aloud.

The following days goes by rather slow, you find different things to keep you busy. Music has always been one of your healing mechanisms so you decide to pack a small bag and bring your Bluetooth speaker down to the beach as dusk begins to approach. The days had been one of the nicest and when you realized how nice and warm it still was you decided to head down to the water. You place a large blanket out to lay on, set a few pillows down, and put your speaker out and with your favorite playlist on. You lay there in your oversized band t-shirt, shutting your eyes, feeling the warmth from the remaining sun on your body as it sets, your music softly playing in the background. Deeps breaths, absolute peace.

You don’t know how long you’ve been laying there but you realize it had gotten dark. It was such a beautiful day, the weather was still nice, you felt no need to cover yourself with blankets.

The moment you feel your body getting wet and cold your shoot your eyes open to see the Talokan king standing at your feet.

“Shiii-“ you heart nearly stops at his sudden appearance.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, “you looked peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you.” He says.

“So you were just going to stare at me?” You ask propping yourself up on your elbows. You smile, tossing him a towel and move over slightly, inviting him to lay next to you.

He dries himself off and lays next to you. You move yourself against him so he is spooning you. Your breath shutters when your body hits his. You’re terrified, not of him just….of the situation and not in a fearful way just very nervous. He notifiers and slowly lays his arm around your body, pulling you even closer to him. You hear him sigh in contentment once you finally fully relax against him.

“Y/N,” he begins and pauses long enough for you to turn over to see him. Your noses touches one another’s. His hand cokes up to caress your face and he whispers something in his native tongue.

“What is it?” You softly ask.

He takes a moment to respond to you, “Allow me to take you to be my queen.”

You look deep into his eyes as his searches yours. You glance at his lips and slowly lean in, matches and the moment your lips touch it is pure ecstasy. An instant moan escapes your lips as they gently move in sync together.

As he releases your lips for you to take a breath, his arm reaches behind your back and next thing you know, he is overtop of you. He runs his hand that isn’t propping him up along your body, whispering who know what in his beautiful language.

“Is that a yes?” He asks, searching your eyes. He drops his head into your neck giving you soft kisses up to your ear.

“Mmmm….yes.”

You feel him smirk against your skin, “Entonces di mi nombre, mi reina.” He whispers into your ear.

You have no idea what he said but boy did it sound good.

You feel his hand firmly grasp your side, his hand sliding under your back, you turn to meet his lips in a desperate, passionate kiss. He pulls your shirt off and places kisses across your chest, his hands wandering over every inch of your skin. You tangle yourself hands in his hair and he kisses across your breasts causing moans to escape you, pressing yourself against him in desperation. His lips lock with your again as your kisses get more and more heated, moans coming from both of you, touching every part of each other, not being able to get enough.

“I promise to protect you.” He says, dragging his fingers down your center be meeting your eyes.

“I promise I will love you.” He says, kissing your neck.

His hand reaches for your thigh, leaving his firm grip there. “Let me love you.” He says, asking permission to continue further.

“Mmm” you sigh, your senses heightens.

“Words, mi amor.”

“Please, Namor.”

His touch leaves your body but only briefly. Before you can adjust, his touch is back causing you to gasp loudly. His lips trailing on the inside of your thighs. His hands gripping you hard and spreading your legs for him. You feel his hot breath hovering over your heat. He moans as you feel his finger slide over you causing you to buck your hips towards him.

“Please…”

His lips connect and you gasp, try grasping for his hand to entangle your hands in. He reaches his free hand up for you to hold onto in which you grasp with everything in you.

He sends vibrations through you as he moans into your body. The perfect work he continues to do with his tongue and he laps your wetness up as it is the only thing keeping him alive. You don’t know how much longer you can hold on which he senses. “Let it go,” he says, “don’t hold on.”

That is all your need for you to hit your climax from his mouth, your eyes shut, trying to squeeze your shaking thighs against his head but he releases his hand from your and hands your legs open as he doesn’t stop eating you. You gasp and squirm, moaning his name for the once silent beach to hear. He finally stops and hovers his body back over yours. Your eyes open as you finally get your breath back only for his lips to once again take it away. He groans into your lips and you both push your bodies against each other, wanting more, needing more. You gasp loudly, digging your nails into his back as he plunges two finger into you. You shriek and he immediately looks at you. You go to speak and explain but he already knows.

“You should have told me,” he softly whispers against your cheek, turning your face so you look at him in his eyes.

“I wasn’t sure how to tell you…that I’ve never been with anyone. It was embarrassing.” You respond.

“Not embarrassing. No. You’re perfect. Tell me if I hurt you and I will stop. Okay?” He assures.

You nod as he goes back to slowly using his finger on you, pressing them up into you to his knuckles, hitting your spots just right. His fingers do the work for a while but then you beg,

“P-please…”

“Please what?” He asks, locking eyes with you.

“Fill me with you,” you gasp as his finger continue thrusting in and out of you. “Please, Namor.”

His fingers leave you and your legs are spread open. He makes eye contact with you once again, “Yes?”

“Yes oh please now.” You beg.

“If I hurt you-“ he begins.

“I don’t care! Please!” You shout at him.

He smiles, slowly pressing himself into you, both of you gasping for air at the sensation. He leans down to you, your arms immediately wrapping around his back, holding onto him as though he is the only thing keeping you afloat in the middle of the ocean.

“Ready?” He asks before he fully begins.

You moan and nod into his neck. He slowly pulls in and out for a moment until you hook your leg around him causing an animalistic moan to escape him, picking up his pace, thrusting and grinding into you. His moans that flood out of his mouth turning you on even more than you ever imagined.

The sound of the waves, moaning and skin slapping fill the beach that was once silent.

“You okay?” He asks as he groans and moans as he thrusts harder into you.

“Yes!” You gasp as your body shakes with new sensations as he hits all of the right spots. “Oh yes….” You moan, your hands tangling themselves into his hair,

His lips meet yours, his tongue slipping into you fighting for dominance which he obviously wins. He bites your lip and pulls you up to him so you’re sitting on his lap as he continues thrusting into you, hitting new spots getting deeper and deeper. You cry out and claw his back and he grasps your breasts, moaning into you, sucking and kissing you. You decide it’s your turn and you push him back with all your might and he lays down, you starting to ride him. His hands on your hips matching your body with his thrusts. His eyes intently locked on every inch of your body. The moans escaping his lips are keeping you alive you are convinced. He can’t take anymore and flips you over, holding your hands down and viciously pounds into you, you’re not sure who is louder at this point. You’re calling out his name as your life depended on it which seems to only urge him on more. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, his other hand getting to work on your very sensitive wetness and you cry out as he somehow continues to surprise you and bring new sensations to your body.

“Namor!” You scream.

His response is only more aggressive groans and grunts. He speaks in his native tongue as he continues to ravish your body.

You’ve lost track of how many times he has made you come at this point but he won’t stop until he is perfectly satisfied which doesn’t have you complaining one bit.

He abruptly pushes your leg off on him and his lips are suddenly locked with yours. He is close you can tell.

“Mi amor… oh….” He grunts into you as he bucks and circles his hips into you. “Come on…come on….” He groans. Aggressive sloppy kisses being exchanged as he pours into you filling you with his warmth. He groans as he slows down as not to just suddenly stop.

He looks at you, your eyes closed, your grip on him loosens your arms falling to the ground, heaving heavily. He brushes your hair off your face and places several soft kisses on your forehead. “Well done, mi reina.” He says looking at your delicate body that he just claimed as his own.

You look at him and smile. “What does that mean.” You coarsely ask, you voice left you a while ago from the screams he caused.

He pulls out of you, laying beside you.

“My queen.” He responds, pulling you to him and pulling a blanket over your body to keep you warm as the night darkens.

You nestle into his warm sweaty body. “That was amazing.” You whisper to him.

“Mi amor, you have never done this before…”

“I haven’t.” You shyly respond.

“I would have never known. But you’re with that boy?” He questions.

“He’s always tries but I just can’t get myself to be with him.” You say.

“He touches you, in any way, I will kill him. You’re mine now.”

“Namor…” you turn to face him.

“Mine.” He grasps onto your body and kisses you deeply.

You lay next to him and fall asleep before you know it. You don’t ever recall being more tired than you are tonight, for good reason that you definitely don’t regret either.

__________

Taglist: @bontensbabygirl @theboggyman

Lemme know if you want to be tagged in the future!

[maerinhearts]

Watch Yourself

You're heading out for dinner to meet your boyfriend's high school best friends and teammates, but it's hard choosing a dress that you think will look good enough on you for this occasion... You feel really down, but luckily your boyfriend is here to help...

Warnings: Eventual smut, some humor, fluff at the end, fem!reader, fingering, oral fem receiving, praise. (Let me know if I missed anything)

3600+ Words

18+, minors DNI, please.

Smut below the cut.

You frantically sift through your closet for the perfect outfit. You’re pushing aside piece after piece of clothing, dress after dress. You needed to find the perfect outfit for dinner. Nothing too revealing, but nothing too modest.

“Babe,” you hear your boyfriend call out to you from your bathroom. “We have to leave in 10 minutes, have you picked a dress?”

You decide not to answer, even though you knew silence was an answer to him. Frustrated, you grab the fabric of the dress you were looking at and bury your face into it, not caring if your makeup smudged on it. You try to keep the tears at bay as anxiety settles into your body and the thoughts come creeping in. What if he doesn’t like the dress you pick out? What if his friends hate you? What if he decides to break things off with you because you can’t decide on a dress? You’re so indecisive, you know it can be annoying. Maybe you shouldn’t go…

“Hey,” you hear him softly call to you, closer this time, possibly in the doorway of your closet. “What are you doing?”

You pull your face out of the fabric of the dress and look at him. “Um-,” you mumble as you turn your reddening face away from him. You smooth the fabric of the dress out. “Nothing,” you say finally, “I’m just trying to pick out a dress.”

“Would you like my help?” he offers. “I did buy all these for you.” He comes to stand beside you and starts looking at each dress carefully.

You stay silent as he carefully pulls a hanger off the rod and holds the dress up to you, looking you up and down to assess the fabric against your skin. He mumbles something to himself before putting it back in its place. He pushes through a couple more dresses before picking up a slate blue, satin piece. It was simple with a low V cut neckline, stopping just above your navel. The straps of the dress were thin, and they crossed in the back. The dress was floor length with a slit in one side that stopped halfway up your thigh. It was a sexy dress that your boyfriend bought for you to celebrate your birthday. You loved that dress. It held a special place in your heart.

He hums as he holds it up in front of you. “I think you should wear this,” he suggests with a twinkle in his eye. When he makes eye contact with you, he frowns. “What’s wrong?”

You clear your throat. “I just don’t think that dress would look good on me tonight is all,” you tell him nonchalantly as you turn back and start going through the dresses for the third time that night. “I think maybe I should wear something more modest, anyway.”

“Baby, I don’t buy modest,” he tells you; the undertone of his voice is snide.

You decide not to answer him, and he huffs out a breath beside you. You stop to look at him again.

“I want you to wear this,” he tells you matter-of-factly.

“Rin-” you start but he puts a finger against your lips.

“You wore this two months ago and you looked so sexy. Why don’t you want to wear it tonight?”

You sigh. “We’re meeting your friends,” you remind him. “Shouldn’t I wear something less sexy? Besides, it wouldn’t look good on me tonight anyway…” you tack on the last bit under your breath, but he heard you.

“Excuse me?”

Your eyes widen in fear. You hadn’t meant for him to hear that. You wanted to keep your insecurities to yourself. Your boyfriend had a real problem with you talking down about yourself. The last time you did he forced you to look in the mirror and call yourself beautiful every day for a month. It was torture. You must admit, though, that by the end of that month it was easier to call yourself beautiful.

You turn to apologize to him, but when you turn, the apology never makes it past your lips. He looked more than angry. You quietly take the dress out of his hands. “I’ll wear this,” you say softly.

Without a word, he turns and exits the closet, leaving you to get dressed. You dress slowly once he’s gone. You know he probably left to plan what your punishment would be this month for talking bad about yourself. You reach over and zip the side of the dress up into place. You smooth out the bodice of the dress as you turn to look at yourself in the mirror. It still fit perfectly, hugging the right parts of your body, and barely hiding your tits. You sigh heavily as you begin looking for your favorite pair of black heels to go with.

When you exit the closet, you see Rin perched on the edge of your shared bed, elbows balanced on his knees and head hung low, deep in thought.

“I’m ready,” you tell him, clutching your purse to your chest.

He looks up upon hearing your voice and gives you a crooked smile. He leaves his spot on the bed to approach you. He silently pulls your purse away from your chest and tosses it on the bed behind him.

"Hey!” you cry out, “I’m going to need that!”

You frown up at him, but he’s not looking at you. His eyes rake your frame slowly, lingering on your chest and the skin of your thigh that was showing. When he pulls his gaze back up to your face, he smirks at you.

“We’re going to have a talk when we get home,” he tells you before leaning down and softly kissing your pouting mouth.

He grabs your hand and finally drags you out of the house. You were finally meeting his friends tonight. The only thing you knew was that it was a fancy restaurant that his friend, who you’re sure is called Osamu, picked out. The whole ride there, Rin was using his free hand to touch you wherever he could reach no matter how many times you smacked his hand away. He even got as far as touching the edge of your panties before you finally grabbed his hand tightly in both of yours, keeping him from touching you any further. You couldn’t fathom why he would want to touch you today. Normally, you found his blatant advances cute and entertaining, but tonight you couldn’t stand the feeling of his touch.

Scratch that. You couldn’t stand the joy you felt from his touch. He shouldn’t be wanting to touch you like this.

When he announces your arrival, you close your eyes briefly and take a deep breath. You couldn’t push your anxiety away. You were nervous to meet his friends. Maybe if you had a few drinks, things wouldn’t be so bad.

Rin squeezes your hands as he shuts the car off. “Are you ready?”

You nod and you both exit the vehicle and head inside.

Osamu set the reservation up so that you could have your own private room. Rin says it’s because the other guys, Atsumu mainly, can get really loud and out of control. It’s just better this way. You hold his hand tightly as he guides you through the restaurant. You were the last to arrive and you were reminded of that when the room erupts into cheers and applause when you both enter.

“The star late to his own party,” a blonde-haired guy says.

Rin waves him off as you move to stand slightly behind him, shy.

“We’re only late by ten minutes,” Rin tells him.

“Why were you ten minutes late?” another guy asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Rin rolls his eyes. “Do you want me to introduce her to you all or not?”

They all collectively agree and Rin steps out of the way to reveal you.

“Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is the guys,” he introduces.

You shyly wave at everyone as they all greet you excitedly. Rin guides you to your seats and the night kicks off without a hitch. Rin orders you your favorite wine and by the time people start leaving, you’re on your fifth glass and finally joking with Atsumu, who also had a little too much wine to drink.

Rin and Osamu were still quietly conversing about who knows what as Atsumu continued to tell you stories about Rin in high school.

“And then, just as we were rounding the corner, the principal-”

“All right,” Rin interrupts, standing up. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

“Awwww,” you and Atsumu groan out in unison.

“But I was just getting to the good part, Rin,” Atsumu whines.

“Yeah, Rin-Rin, I wanted to hear the rest,” you whine as well, jutting your lip out for good measure. Your head is light, and your body feels warm. You totally had a wine buzz.

You see something flash in your boyfriends’ eyes as you pull out the nickname you use for him. You’d never said it in front of anyone before.

“Rin-Rin?” Osamu asks, snickering.

Rin turns his gaze on Osamu who immediately quiets down, turning away to take the last sip of his drink.

“Come on, darling,” Rin addresses you. “It’s time to go home.” He holds out his hand to you.

Atsumu pouts beside you as you take your boyfriends hand to leave. You turn back to Atsumu to tell him goodbye.

“We can finish your story next time!” you tell him, beaming. “It was nice meeting you!”

You all collectively say goodbye as Rin escorts you to your car. It’s a short ride home of you singing along badly to the music playing on the radio and Rin smiling as you try to get him to sing along with you.

Rin guides you to your room when you get home, forcing you to sit on your bed as he kneels to take your shoes off for you. You watch as he disappears into the closet with your shoes and you swing your dangling feet, waiting for him to return and help you undress.

When he comes back, you notice he is only wearing his suit pants, which were unbuttoned.

“Come,” he says softly, beckoning you closer to him.

You quietly approach him, and he begins unzipping your dress and pushing the straps down. It pools at your feet, and he bends down to pick the dress up when you step out of it. He leaves you there in just your underwear to hang the dress back up in your closet. When he comes back into the room, he stops in front of you, hands softly gripping your bare waist. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck in response.

He eyes you carefully. “Care to tell me what was going on earlier?”

You try to back pedal, removing your arms from around his neck and attempting to step away. He just wraps his arms tightly around you, keeping you from going anywhere. Your eyes find the chain around his neck, and you reach up to play with it, finding that more interesting than what he was wanting to know.

“Y/N,” he says in a warning tone.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you tell him. You still felt lightheaded from the alcohol, and you knew if he pried any further, you’d tell him everything that was on your mind earlier that night.

He sighs. “Why did you tell me you wouldn’t look good in that dress?” he tries again.

You pout. “I just feel ugly today,” you admit quietly, scared of what the outcome would be if you didn’t start talking to him.

“Hmm,” he hums. Suddenly, he grabs your hand and pulls you across the room. He places you in front of the mirror and you groan.

“Not this again,” you whine. You make eye contact with Rin, pleading with your eyes that this wasn’t the punishment this time.

He stands behind you, silent. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch his hands snake around you, sliding up to hold your breasts.

He leans down to talk in your ear, voice husky. “This is what you’re gonna do,” he begins, and you gulp. “You’re going to sit on this bed behind me, facing the mirror, while I fuck you. And you can’t look away.” He kisses the tip of your shoulder before pulling away from your body and directing you towards the bed.

You sit down on the edge, dazed, and watch as he closes the distance between the two of you once again. He places a finger on your chin, tilting your head back to look at him. When you make eye contact, you push your lip out in a pout again. Without saying a word, he slowly lowers his mouth to yours, gently caressing your lips with his own. As he pulls away, he begins littering your chest with kisses as he slowly drops to his knees on the floor in front of you. You watch with wide eyes as he hooks his fingers into your panties and yanks them off in one fluid motion, tossing them carelessly behind him.

He licks his lips at the sight of your already glistening pussy. His gaze remains trained onto your core as he hooks your legs over his shoulder. “Eyes on the mirror,” he tells you and when you make eye contact with yourself, he licks a stripe right up your folds, groaning at the taste of you.

Your mouth falls open at the sensation and you try to continue watching yourself as he flattens his tongue against you, licking another wet stripe up your pussy. You fail soon after as he begins devouring you, pushing his tongue into your dripping hole. Your hand fists into his hair, head falling back with a loud moan as he fucks his tongue into you.

Suddenly, Rin’s hand is roughly gripping your chin, his mouth leaving your heat for a moment as he squishes your cheeks together and forces your gaze back on the mirror. You whimper at his strong grip, squirming against the bed as you lock eyes with yourself once again. Your hand leaves his hair and you wrap your fingers around his wrist.

Without another word, he dives right back in, hand never leaving your face. He’s relentless with his tongue this time, making figure eights against your clit as you attempt to rock your hips into his face. You’re moaning around your squished cheeks, nails digging into the skin of his arm. He’s eating you like he’s starved, like he didn’t just eat a four-course meal two hours ago.

You can feel your body begin to tighten, shaking slightly as your orgasm builds up. Your moans become louder as you tightly close your eyes in preparation for your release.

Rin shoves two fingers into you, roughly pumping them in and out of you, continuing his abuse with his tongue on your clit. You come soon after, loud moans leaving your lips as he continues pushing his fingers into you, riding your orgasm out. He pulls his fingers away as you come down and stands up, the hand on your face moving to cup the back of your neck, suddenly gentle as if you might break if he were too rough. He presses a kiss against your mouth before stepping away to pull off his pants.

“On your hands and knees,” he commands as he pulls his trousers off his feet.

You obey him, moving to get onto your hands and knees on the bed, still facing the mirror. You knew better. He moves around you and you feel the bed dip behind you as he fits himself in between your legs.

You watch your face as he pushes his length slowly into you, your mouth dropping open in a moan as he fills you.

Rin leans down and wraps his arm around your chest, pulling you flush against his chest. His hand finds the column of your neck, gently squeezing as you gulp.

“I’ll make sure your eyes never leave that mirror,” he says lowly, pressing a wet kiss against the side of your neck.

He begins pumping his length in and out of you, slow at first, just to hear those sweet, soft moans you let out when he goes slow.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he murmurs into your ear. You feel tears well up in your eyes at his compliment, watching as one escapes down your face and finds it’s way onto Rin’s fingers. He pulls you tighter against him, if that was even possible, and picks up his speed.

Watching yourself get fucked like this was hot, you had to admit. And the way his cock was dragging along your walls made you forget all about the way you were feeling before dinner tonight. Rin seemed to always have this effect on you. It was like you were cock drunk, if that was even a thing. You couldn’t think of anything other than his cock fucking you and how badly you wanted him. It clicks in your brain that this was probably his plan all along and you almost laugh. You probably would have if he hadn’t picked up his pace, practically slamming his cock into your cervix.

“Fuck me,” you tell him and his hips stutter at your words, caught off guard by your encouragement.

Next thing you know, he’s pressing your face into the mattress as he repeatedly, deliciously, fucks into you.

“That’s it, baby,” he mutters out. You almost sigh in relief as he begins to come to life behind you. He always talked during sex, constantly praising you. He was uncharacteristically quiet tonight, and you think it may have been your fault.

His hand glides down your spine before grabbing your ass in his hands and squeezing the flesh.

“So fucking good,” he gasps from behind you. Suddenly, he pulls back and smacks your ass with both hands. You yelp and turn your head to glare at him.

Wordlessly, he just shoves your face back down and holds you there.

“Look so pretty like this,” he muses from behind you. You would have rolled your eyes at him, but his hand was heavy on the back of your head and your eyes were already rolling into the back of your head from the pleasure he was giving you.

He stops and adjusts his stance before pulling away and thrusting back into you at a new angle, one that had him stroking that soft spot inside you. You fist your hands in the sheets beneath you as you feel your second orgasm approaching. You clench around him in an attempt to keep it at bay, not wanting your pleasure to end yet.

He hisses from behind you. “Fuck,” he gasps out. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

In an instant, he’s yanking you up against his chest again by your hair. You gasp as your back hits his chest and he’s shoving his fingers in your mouth while his other hand trails down your body to rub your clit.

“Watch yourself as I make you cum,” he commands, and you do. Your gaze immediately finds yourself in the mirror.

Your face was sweaty, and your hair was haphazard, sticking to your neck and face. You continued to assess yourself, pussy clenching when your eyes landed on Rin’s fingers in your mouth. Feeling bold, you close your mouth around them and begin sucking on the digits. He presses his fingers harder against your clit, ripping a moan from your throat as the knot in your stomach becomes unbearable.

“Cum for me, angel,” he encourages, pressing a hot kiss to the base of your neck.

You do as your told, releasing around him, losing control of your body as you hear him moan from behind you, pumping you full of his own cum.

As you both come down from your highs, he gently pulls out of you before collapsing onto the bed, pulling you on top of him.

“Some talk,” you joke, chest heaving against his.

He snorts from underneath you, hands moving to play with your hair. You’re both silent for a while, relishing in the others presence.

Finally, he breaks the silence: “Don’t ever call yourself ugly again.”

Your breath hitches in your throat and you try to make yourself smaller by burrowing further into his body.

“I love you, Y/N,” he tells you softly. “I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on in my life. And maybe I’m biased, who knows? You take care of me, you’re funny, you’re witty and you’re a hell of a cook. You know all of my favorite things. You purposefully ‘forget’ to pack me a lunch just so you can visit me at practice and eat with me. Sometimes you even bring my teammates lunch. Which… honestly, you gotta stop. They’re starting to think you’re their girlfriend, too.”

You giggle and lift your head to make eye contact with him, finding his eyes full of love and adoration. Your chest becomes tight with emotion.

“All of those things are why I think you’re beautiful. And why I love you.”

You push your forehead back into his chest as you feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Stop, Rin, you’re going to make me cry,” you grumble against his skin.

He just massages your scalp and presses a kiss against the crown of your head.

“It’s true,” he reassures you. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you,” you whisper, kissing the bare skin of his chest as you close your eyes and succumb to sleep.

[forthesanityofstorytellers]

WHG Prompt 5 - Air of Authority

Lyra leans back on some social training from home and can't believe it actually works.

Taglist: @concealeddarkness13 @maple-writes @pied-piper-of-hamlet @pen-of-roses @ratracechronicler 

--------------

She was left alone for most of the rest of the ride, ducking into a room that seemed to be for her and pulling out the other bits of food she’d managed to steal. Only when she was alone did she feel a tiny hint of regret that she was doing this alone.

Oh well. Jake and Hansel only wanted to get back home. Not help. She had to convince them to help out here. This time she was only restricted by what she wanted to do. Nothing else.

Well…nothing else that couldn’t be overcome. She still had to abide by the rules enough so that she didn’t stand out…which meant she probably shouldn’t have threatened the citizen in the foul suit or broken the screen. But he was begging to be knocked down a peg and out here, there was no one to tell her how high-borns were supposed to behave.

She finally finished what she’d swiped from various tables and was trying to decide the best way to get her hands on some materials enough to make a bow when she felt the train come to a stop. She peeked out only to find a pair of guards outside where she was, ready to take her on. But this was how it was supposed to go, right? Train ride, out to the almighty Capitol, put on display, listen to someone drone on with the lies of how this is honorable, then to a…what was it…a training room, she thought. That was where she’d be able to approach the others or listen from a distance. That was where she really wanted to get to.

So she let herself get practically pulled this way and that, down hallways and past windows and more screens, plopped in a chair, a small group of others surrounding her.

She snarled and snapped when they tried to remove her bandana, the team hesitating and looking around. “I have this on for a reason,” she growled at them. “Trust me, taking it off works against any sort of beautification process.” She hadn’t managed to fend them off last time…and after a moment of consideration, it seemed she wouldn’t be able to fend them off this time either as someone grabbed it from behind and practically snipped it off her head. The rest came with equal precision, her jacket pulled off before she could really react.

She grunted at the sudden silence, the weird chattering monkeys looking at each other and then their leader, who was eyeing her up and down. Lifting her head, Lyra cleared her throat and flexed her wings for a moment, the fluttering noise filling the room as she worked them before letting them down once more.

“Stop gawking,” she demanded of them. “You have a job to do. Do it.”

That seemed to snap them back into action, the group chittering and chatting amongst themselves. The head of the group glanced at what he’d prepared and back at Lyra, her training giving her the authoritative air of the highbloods and, with it, the instinctual space afforded to one of a high standing. While they chatted among themselves and began to buzz around her, trying to work her looks into the costume, she stood as still and commanding as she had been trained to do.

“No,” she said, slapping at one of their hands when they went to put the costume on her. “That won’t work. That fabric doesn’t work with my skin tone; are you blind?! Get something that works with me, not against me, or do you not know your own occupation?”

The action almost seemed to take them offguard, which was odd. Surely they had tributes that didn’t willfully stand here and get stripped bear every single time? Either way, she grabbed at the costume and snatched it from their hands. “Go on. Get your betters. Let them try to handle me with grace and dignity you don’t seem to be able to afford.”

After another moment of conferring with each other, the reluctantly left the room. Left her alone.

They really shouldn’t have.

Lyra ripped the stupid costume into ribbons, tying each one to her horns to make them look like a prop, then taking the bits that were whole and creating a loosely-fitting cape that could hide her wings but would shudder as she flapped them to create a sort of wave of the fabric. She the shirt and pants she borrowed, ripping up the seams to create a skirt that had slits but would still go down to her ankles, the colors almost muted compared to the costume but seemed to work in her favor. She grabbed a few of the colored brushes and went over herself once to add some shades or highlights, make it look like the team had done their  job, and then took some of the brushes and snapped the ends off for a tipped point. She managed to hide those in her skirt before a door opened and she spun, head up again as she strode towards the opening.

“Finally,” she huffed. “I thought I would have to wait around here all day.”

She was a highborn. She knew how to perform, how to get the respect her position deserved…and it appeared that the training worked even when she wasn’t home. She was taken by the guards – peacekeepers, she was pretty sure she heard someone call them – to something pulled by giant beats that snorted and pawed. At first her mind thought they were Kamare clan, giants that could take the form similar to these creatures. Her eyes lit up at first before she realized they had flat heads and were smaller than the two-skinned ones from her home system…plus the Kamare wouldn’t allow themselves to be worked like this.

The sight caused a small pang of a longing for home, something she didn’t experience often. She shook her head and glanced at the other tributes, reminded herself why she’d come. She took her place next to the other tribute and did her best to ignore the sounds coming from nearby, the loud cheers and jeers from those watching.

She remembered this from last time too. The noise was too much then. It would be the same now. At least this time she was prepared. She flattened her ears to her head and prepared herself to be thrust out in front of everyone, concentrating on the images and names she’d gathered from the images of the Reaping. She had an idea of who she could start with, who looked like they might have needed a friend out here. Who looked like they wanted to escape. Who looked like they’d be able to help her figure out how to break this place and cause as much chaos as possible when doing it.

[rubinee]

You're doing it! Randomized kink generator time 😎 Got some interesting ones here I think

Glove Worship

Face Sitting

Macro/Micro

Mutual Masturbation

Dacryphilia/Crying Kink

oh wow an anonymous message! i wonder who mightve sent it, certainly not my beloved mutual 🥰

glove worship

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

i mean i AM into beautification and gloves can be part of an outfit... and i like (my) hands.... it's just never occurred to me. nothing wrong with it i just feel kinda eh about it | edit i couldn't stop thinking about it while typing the other replies so i'm gonna say it might be a nice addition to a scene

face sitting

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know | unrated

sitting on someones face or having my partner sit on mine feels like something i truly cannot know until i know. so i want to experience this before giving any comment on it.

macro/micro

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

i had to look this one up but this is the one with the giant women isn't it. if anyone wants to share and explain to me what they find enticing about this please do for educational purposes my ask box and dms are always open

mutual masturbation

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

yeeh 🥰 i love learning how people touch themselves, it feels really intimate to me. and they get to see me too. overall really nice no notes

dacryphilia/crying kink

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

crying can feel really cathartic so if it happens that's great! but like maybe i'm missunderstanding this but i don't get anything out of the tears themselves (or like crying/ seeing my partner cry)

thanks for the ask thank you for indulging me in this!

[marscomicscorner]

ghost helps a highschool loser with beautification arc and it goes wrong

Anya’s Ghost by Vera Brosgol

Anya, 1st generation in America living with single mom from Russia, is trying to integrate in an American high school while befriending a ghost called Emily that helps her cheat at tests. (I love when people actually use their powers for petty things for their own advantage. You have telepathy damn right you will use it to levitate the remote control over. If I had stopping time powers Id never loose a fight. anyway.)

ENTER VERONICA SAWYER i mean ANYA

the potat throws away the previous сырники because she’s apparently ‘fat’ which is a SHAME AEEEEE

veronicaaaaa

WHAT SCHOOL has skirts as PE uniforms? 

Beep tests indeed were, I didnt miss that as part of my American school experience.

context: mom thinks Benjamin Franklin was an American president

lesbo 

context: why don’t Anya like going to church? Well, it’s orthodox and that means it’s got russians present. old ones. Which is a very valid point, I can confirm.

This reminds me of dipper daydreaming about dancing with Wendy “oh Dipper, show me that list again.... aaaah”

Anne Boonchuy’s ghost.... 

10/10 would recommend. 

[dxrlingdaydreams]

Fictober #3 | "That Was Not My Intention"

Original Fiction Word Count: 672 Contains: WLW Sapphic Fluff

The two sat cross-legged in front of her bedroom mirror, a smile plastered across her best friend’s face. It wasn’t the first time the teens spent the night getting plastered in Mars’s apartment- college will do that to you. Regardless, she savored every minute of it. 

“Stop squirming!” Her friend demanded, her laugh sharp enough to shatter glass but just as beautiful. Before Pluto could listen, eyeliner had smeared down the side of her face. A gasp escaped the two of them immediately but the shock of the mess erupted into drunken giggles. 

“I told you to hold still-” The sass rang through Mars’s voice and she shook her head in faux-dismay. “Hold on a second.” 

Pluto used the opportunity to take another sip of her wine as Mars reached for the makeup wipes. Quality time between the two of them was something she never took for granted. It wasn’t rare, per se, that they got time alone; however it was the parts of her week that she cherished the most. 

As she set her glass down, her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Mars taking a firm hold of her jaw- forcing her to meet her gaze. Not even at her most stoic, let alone drunk, could Pluto keep her face from flushing. 

“What are you-” She didn’t have time to finish her question before the cold, harsh sting of the makeup remover brazed her cheek. Pluto winced and tried to pull from her friend’s grasp, but her grasp held strong. 

“Hold. Still.” Mars’s nagging was insistent as she pulled her in closer. “You’re going to make me ruin it.”

There, of course, wasn’t much to ruin; the application was sloppy at best. While she forced Pluto’s hair from her face with her palm, Pluto did her best to avoid her gaze. That was too intimate, especially for her. For a moment it seemed like the harsh wiping was only making the smearing worse but eventually the smudge disappeared. The same radiant smile returned to Mars’s face in satisfaction. 

“There!” She announced with pride, releasing her friend’s face. “Crisis averted.” 

With a fumbling flick of her wrist, the eyeliner took a semi-adequate wing shape and they both settled on calling it good enough. Mars sat back and looked over her work in admiration. 

“Beautiful-” she sighed. “Let’s take a picture!” 

“B-Beautif-” Pluto faltered as Mars wrapped her arm around her shoulder and pulled her in once more. The fog in her brain returned to what Mars was asking of her. “Mars, you know I don’t do pictures.” 

Despite Pluto’s protests, the girl hushed her and withdrew her cell phone from her pocket with her opposite hand. Mars planted a kiss fresh on Pluto’s cheek, taking the photo just as her gap-toothed grin spread from ear to ear. 

She began to draw back from her friend but Pluto took the initiative to lean in further, gently pressing her lips against hers. Mars disentangled from her grasp as her eyes widened in disbelief. 

“Pluto..” she murmured, averting her eyes to the bedroom surrounding them. 

“I love you,” The words escaped Pluto’s mouth frantically. She hadn’t even realized she said them until it was too late. 

“I’m so sorry. That wasn’t my intention..” Mars frowned. “You’re my best friend, but..” 

All of a sudden, the room began to spin around the poor girl as her closest acquaintance dismissed her love for her. Pluto retracted into herself, knocking over the glass haphazardly. 

“No, no, you’re fine,” she tried to assure both Mars and herself while she got to her feet. “It’s fine.” 

“Wait! You don’t have to go,” Mars reached for her hand but Pluto was already reaching for her bag, halfway out of the door. 

“I really do.” When she took this tone, this.. attitude, Mars knew it was best to leave her alone. “Thanks for the wine.” 

With those few words, Pluto had disappeared into the darkness and left Mars to drink by herself, contemplating what this meant for the future of their friendship. 

[aclosetfan]

OK so i have this hc where BC finds out Butch is a very talented graffiti artist and decides to ask the mayor for permission to let Butch graffiti (?) around Townsville (as long as he doesn't make anything too offensive or something). my prompt is: BC watching Butch working and just being like "im so gay for him hElP" :DDD IT WOULD BE AWESOME if bubbles were there too and BC thinking how she's really happy that two of her fav people get along so well and gsjshsjs honestly anything just involving Greens + Bubbles + art + BC 'secretly' being full of LOVE would be PERFECT. Thank you! (sorry for the long ask lmao)

:) please forgive the delay, anon! I love this prompt and tried capturing the spirit of it to the best of my ability! Also, I added Boomer to this, and made Buttercup a trans guy named Bud. It’s sort of a spiritual successor to this post, hope you don’t mind!

There’s more exposition in here then I wanted, but I find with one-shots, I always tend to lay a more detailed foundation so people understand the world we’re visiting. I don’t know if that’s the correct way you’re suppose to do things, but i love lore, so I write it lolol.

for this prompt game!

============================================

“I didn’t know he was,” Bud paused, ripping his eyes away from Butch to look over at Boomer, “uh, like, actually good at this?”

"Whose good at what?" Boomer grunted, wiggling and stretching his tongue around his straw as he tried to wrestle it back into his mouth.

Bud rolled his eyes, taking pity on the other far more...broken boy, and held the straw circling around Boomer's liquefied lunch in one place. "Butch," he clarified, "who else?"

Boomer let out a delighted noise and took large, greedy sips of his lunch, smacking his lips obnoxiously when he was done. He opened his mouth like he was going to answer when at the last second, it seemed he decided against it and pulled another gulp of mush through the straw. Bud couldn't stop the disgusted face he pulled, watching the chunky yellow gunk slowly travel up the see-through plastic straw. He supposed his discomfort couldn't be helped since he had, in fact, volunteered to watch over Boomer while Butch helped Bubbles with the Mayor's urban beautification initiative, and that included holding his cup of food while he ate. It wasn't like Bud was required to help him go to the bathroom or anything, but still, it was freaking nasty, and Boomer was constantly asking him to itch places Bud had no desire to itch.

Maybe babysitting someone with the attention span of a goldfish would have been easier if Boomer hadn't insisted on attending the project with Butch and Bubbles and had just stayed in his fully air-conditioned home, but no, Bud had never been that lucky. Instead, he and Boomer sat across the street from where Bubbles and Butch worked, sitting on a concrete barrier that had taken a great deal of maneuvering to hoist Boomer onto, so he could "supervise."  The heat of the sun was uncomfortable but not unbearable, and that was only because of the intense breeze coming off the busy roadway. However, the concrete was steaming to the touch, and he kept adjusting to save his poor thighs.

Sweat began to drip uncomfortably down his back, and he felt it pooling in his binder. If he had known he would have been stuck sitting under the sweltering sun with absolutely no shade, he would have worn something different and, maybe, put on more sunblock. Or, better yet, he would have just said no to the whole endeavor. 

Again, rolling his eyes, Bud's gaze fell back to the two across the street. Bubbles and a handful of other artists were volunteering with the Mayor's public infrastructure committee to promote public arts around the City. Unfortunately, here was a lot (a lot) of inappropriate graffiti downtown in the city’s poorer districts, and Bubbles had specifically requested permission to paint over some of the more offensive, bigoted stuff. She had initially wanted to do traditional painted murals but had quickly become enamored with all the graffiti styles that, you know, didn't promote white supremacy and other shitty stuff like that.

Bubbles had done a great deal of research into the Townsville tagging community. She could go on about the differences between tagging, Mular work, wildstyle, and all kinds of graffiti techniques forever, and had actually gone so far as to track down some of the people whose works had really inspired her. She'd call them and ask if they were interested in doing more in a specific "beautification" zone. More often than not, no one seemed to want to refuse their bubbliest Powerpuff, despite some insisting that their identities needed to remain anonymous. 

Not even two weeks into the boys' return to the city, they had unsurprisingly gotten the run-down about Bubbles' project as it was the only thing she seemed interested in talking about the last few weeks. Mostly speaking to Brick since they were the one who boasted the boys' collective attention span, Bubbles had explained the committee project, showing off pictures and lamenting about how she hadn't been able to track one of her favorite artist's down.

It shouldn't have been such a shock, but it was when Brick had laughed and snapped at Boomer to get his attention. Bubbles had been enthused, and Boomer's ego had been sufficiently rubbed enough that he agreed to help her out. Unlike some of the other taggers she had worked with, Boomer didn't care about his anonymity as he was already too infamous anyway but was adamant that he maintain complete creative control. In Bud's opinion, Bubbles had been a really good sport about that, considering it was her project, so one busted lip and two black eyes later, Boomer and Bubbles compromised on a perfect, shared "artistic vision."

Then, of course, as everyone already likely knew, Boomer broke both his arms, cracked his clavicle, and suffered through a 24-hour coma due to a rocket-launcher-related incident that he and his brothers kept insisting had been "worth it."

"It's not like he was ever using his head much anyway," Butch had shrugged, waving off Blossom's lecture, and Brick had added, "and it's not like he died this time, so what's the big deal?"

"Yeah, bitch, I lived!" Boomer had cackled, putting any of Blossom's arguments sufficiently to rest.

Whatever Boomer had done to himself, it had knocked his Chemical-X off-kilter, impeding his regenerative healing abilities. As a result, he was stuck with two arm casts and a neck and back brace that didn't allow him to rotate his head. His brothers took turns babying him while he healed, and today had been Butch's turn, who Boomer had already volunteered to help Bubbles in his place. Apparently, Brick hadn't been willing to switch shifts, needing what they called "a fucking minute alone," which was fine since Boomer had wanted to come supervise the art project, but someone still needed to actually watch him while Butch was busy working.

And since Bubbles’ beautification zone involved derogatory language about Bud and his transition, he felt obligated for whatever stupid reason to help out, like it was his fault or something that they were stuck at this shitty, hot intersection. He hoped, at least, no one thought it was his fault, but he pushed his unease and anxiety far away for the time being.  

Still sucking away at his lunch, Boomer spoke up through a mouthful, pulling Bud's attention back to the present.

"Yeah," He spoke, chewing on a chunk of yellow (?), "we've all tagged when we were kids. Butch is pretty good, I mean, I'm better, but he has potential. Is he my first choice? No. His lines, eh—" Boomer shrugged, then winced in pain before continuing, "—needs work, but a few more days under my wings, and maybe we'll really have something with him."

"I can hear you," Butch yelled as the light turned green, and the few cars stopped went barrelling ahead.

"Finally!" Boomer called back, "Your dripping paint! And stop muddling the colors! And Bubbles, please, this isn't some heartless studio work! My vision requires actual passion!"

"Sorry, Boomer!" Bubbles waved him off, her voice echoing up and down the currently empty street, "I can't hear you! Traffic!"

"Oh, har har! Very funny!" Boomer mocked, "Pretend I'm slow clapping right now! Bud! Slow clap for me!"

He gave Boomer a long look, but despite himself, he felt an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips and complied, slow clapping on Boomer's behalf.

"Har! Har!" Boomer said again, in time with his clapping.

"Bud!" Bubbles gasped as the traffic began to pick up again, "Betrayal!"

"Forget him, Bubbles," Butch flipped the two of them off, "I'll be your brother now. He can stay with Boomer. I like you more anyways!"

"Oh! You think you can replace the niche I fill that easily, huh!?" Boomer cried, and shifted on his ass until he faced Bud, "Bud! Throw my drink at them!"

Bud snorted, taking the drink away from Boomer entirely, like he still somehow had the ability to reach for it, "Not gonna happen. I'm not making you another one of these. Never again. It's against nature to blend burgers and fries together, okay?" 

"Is it really too much to ask for unbridled support in a goon nowadays?" Boomer pouted, "One day, I'll have a million minions ready at my beck and call, and then you'll all see."

"I look forward to it." He laughed, pushing the drink back in front of his face, "And I'm not your goon. Now, drink up, I don't want Brick on my ass about your calorie intake."

"They're the only one who actually loves me." Boomer nodded solemnly before taking another sip.

"Excuse me? Are they here right now feeding you?"

"Fine. He's the only one who loves me after you," Boomer amended with a smile as the telltale signs of his impending temper tantrum dissipated.  

As he ate, Bud watched Butch and Bubbles. They were once again obscured by traffic, but he could see them still joking around through the gaps. It made him weirdly happy. Bud would have never guessed how much he'd end up actually enjoying the Rowdyruff Boy's company, but puberty had made them strangely likable. Of course, they were still pains in the ass, but now, they were at least funny about it, and it was nice seeing Bubbles and Butch getting along. He briefly wondered if Butch thought the same thing about him and Boomer. His heart flip-flopped at the thought.

Pulling rapidly at the front of his shirt to generate some air flow, Bud watched Butch shake a spray can and carefully, watching his lines, sprayed a neat line onto the wall. Bubbles had refused to show Bud what the finished piece would look like, but so far, it seemed like they were spraying something that needed bright neon effects. Depending on how complicated a project was, Bubbles could sometimes spend whole days down here painting, but with two people on the job, Bud was hoping it wouldn't take too long. The heat was starting to go to his head, and Boomer could hardly be comfortable with all the extra bracing. He highly doubted the two across the street were fairing any better.

And as if Butch was reading his mind, the other boy stopped painting and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He said something to Bubbles as he tossed the spray cans down and without warning, pulled his shirt off over his head, throwing it onto the pile of his and Bubbles' stuff. Bud's heart came to a screeching halt, in perfect tune with the blue Ford Buick, which literally came to a screeching halt as the light turned red.

With the cars at a now stand-still, Bud had an undisturbed view of Butch, shirtless, sweaty, and intensely focused on the work in front of him. The intensity written on Butch's face wasn't unknown to Bud, he had seen it plenty of times when they had fought, but it was different encountering it in a non-violent setting. Butch's eyebrows furrowed together in concentration, completely absorbed in his work to notice Bud staring. It was a lot to take in, and Bud unconsciously pulled Boomer's drink protectively into himself.

"Uh, Bud?" Boomer scooted closer, his open mouth following the straw, but he ignored him.

The heat was definitely going to Bud's head, but he didn't think he cared anymore. He couldn't figure out if he were experiencing an intense bout of gender envy or if it was a side-effect of the very insignificant crush he had developed on the taller boy over their short acquaintanceship. Whatever it was, it wasn't pairing well with the heat. The way Butch's back muscles flexed as he stretched this way and that to spray paint, and the way he'd shake those stupid cans, made Bud next to dizzy. He tried focusing on Butch's work, ripping his eyes away from his body, to admire his talent (because Butch was better than just "good" like Boomer claimed), but that only seemed to make Butch more attractive.

He watched Bubbles glance over in Butch's direction, then not so discretely, she turned around to make eye contact with him, waggling her eyebrows. Bubs had been there the day Butch had hand-delivered some hand-me-downs to try on, and apparently, the look on his face had given away too much. Right after Butch had left, Bud had been cornered and interrogated, and now, he heard nothing else from her besides Butch (and, duh, graffiti).

Bud looked away, unwilling to entertain whatever delusion his sister was thinking. He didn't need hers on top of his own. Bud searched for anything else to look at to pass the time. Staring at the cars was fine, until they stopped and he was awkwardly making eye contact with the drivers, and watching Boomer eat his blended burger and fries was making his stomach turn, so whether he liked it or not, his eyes fell back on Butch and Bubbles across the street.

What Bud saw was horrible. It was outrageous. It was the cutest thing he had ever seen. Butch stood there with Bubbles, laughing, as he rubbed a splotch of paint off her cheek. Bubbles was laughing too, loudly animating with her hands a story Bud couldn't hear over the sound of traffic unless he wanted to eavesdrop on them with his super-hearing. He didn't need to, though. He was fine just watching because that gross, mushy feeling from before was back, where he found himself happy that they got along.

If Bubbles liked him, then maybe, Blossom would too, and if both of his sisters liked him, then maybe, just maybe, Bud would try his luck and ask him out. Maybe. Only if Butch maybe liked him back, but Bud didn't count himself that lucky. Butch had a lot more going for him than Bud did.

Or...well, maybe not in the eyes of the law, but who really cared about that besides Blossom?

"Excuse me!" Boomer huffed, wiggling around to get his attention, "hello!"

Bud jumped, almost surprised to find himself back on a hot, steamy concrete barrier on the side of the road of an incredibly busy intersection.

"W-what!" His voice cracked, turning to face Boomer with wide eyes.

Boomer tsked, "Are you done checking out my brother?"

Bud relaxed his hold on Boomer's shake, noticing his white knuckle grip on it, and with an anxious laugh, argued, "I-I wasn't—"

An evil smile spread across Boomer's face, and Bud immediately switched to the offense.

"I swear," He jabbed a finger at Boomer, "tell a soul, and I'll break the rest of you."

Without even blinking, Boomer shot back, "How about you stop manhandling my food, and I'll think about it."

"How about me starting with your left leg?" He threatened.

"Oh, Butchie!" Boomer sang, "Guess wh—hmph!"

"You wanted your food, right?" Bud shoved the straw back into his mouth, "Now, eat up!"

[sleepy-sinner303]

TW, Maid s/o part 2

You immediately took the human girl to your room, put her on the bed, and started to wipe the blood from her face and her little body with a wet cloth. You took care not to hurt her. when you started wiping between her legs, she groaned in pain and tears began to flow from her eyes, she made a fist with her tiny hand in her mouth and bit herself hand, when you looked between her legs you saw that her thighs were bruised. You didn't want her to suffer any more so you took her in your arms, she instantly wrapped your arms around her neck, and you took her to the bathroom and put her in the hot tub, her body started to relax a bit so you stroked her hair and she bent to your touch, after cleaning her, you took her out of the tub and laid her on the bed.

You are sleeping with her, she is still naked, you wanted to bring her clothes, but you did not want to leave her alone. So to keep her warm, you hugged her and stroked and smelt her soft hair, she started crying lightly and buried her face in your chest and she started trembling, sobbing and crying;

C-Carla-Sama... I'm so sorry, you killed your father because of me! *sobs* I'm so scared... I'd wanted you to take my virginity, not him! *sob* he was so mean to me, although he knew and saw that my body was hurting, he did not stop! it hurts so much- *sobs* I'm scared of getting pregnant Carla-Sama... I don't want that! I don't want to carry his child- *sobs* I'm so dirty now... I feel so dirty *sniff*

finally, she looks at you with watery eyes. It was painful for you to see her bruised and scarred face.

With her tiny hands, she takes your big hands and presses them against her soft cheeks wet with tears and caresses your hand on the top of her cheek.

Carla-Sama... p-please erase that man's touch from my body, I-I feel so dirty- *sobs*

Thank you very much for accepting my previous request! I thought you couldn't write because there are too many too, but I was very happy when I saw that you replied.

This is the continuation of https://sleepy-sinner303.tumblr.com/post/691739012310958080/twtwtwheavytw-rape-lets-say-your-father-is-still this ask, people! Be wary, very TW!

"Do not apologize, woman. I planned on killing this man long ago. He wasn’t contributing to our legacy anymore, plus he brought us defeat after defeat and was losing himself in his own insanity."

[Carla cautiously strokes her cheek, before showing his fangs.]

"I wanted to make you mine the second I saw you. I still want to. I won’t go further than a kiss and some bites. I am no monster like my father."

[Carla begins to suck the girl’s blood, making pleased hums and stroking her body.]

"You taste as delicious as what I imagined. Don’t go to any other man. You belong to me now, forever… I will soon erase my father’s memory from your most sensitive area. But for now…"

[Carla kisses her passionately.]

"Feel my love."

Have a good day and thank you for trusting me with this ask!

[waitmyturtles]

Okay, this could either go the amazing route or the cringe route, we’ll see, but: that there is Raiku, who played beloved Yuuki in Life: Love on the Line. This is a preview for Don’t Stop My Beautification/Ore no bijoka ga tomaranai!? -- Raiku’s character moves into an apartment where, long story short, in order to live there, he needs to cross-dress and work at a cafe.

It’s a TV Tokyo late-night show, so I’m hoping they do good by this premise, because seeing Raiku in this role excites me, but I’ll be waiting with trepidation. (I feel like I have a high standard for shows that may not differentiate between gender expression and gender identity, which Life as a Girl on NHK did really well.)

Anyway -- Raiku in a starring role. At least I’m happy about that!