#drink wines along

[savage-rhi]

✨️Kinda magenta?✨️

[royalarmyofoz]

you guys ever think about what american auto s3 would have been like if it wasn't cancelled?

[feitanswife]

Also

Clavell: hello I came to deliver your paperwork, I’m sorry for forgetting to send it

My mom, who had no idea this guy was even coming over: Paige go get ready for school I have things I need to talk with the director about

I see you mom. And I don’t blame you one bit.

[tojiswhore-aventurinesslut]

In the words of Mr. Kento Nanami

WORK IS SHIT

[starsandthorn]

zhongli watching hu tao and venti meet: this is the worst day of my life

[latestdreamgirl]

ouuuuh. thinking of a vampire au w/ doom rn X[ (RUNS DIRECTLY INTO A WALL

[socialpermadeath]

Ziyal and Garak weren't going on a date, the saunas are actually a rather traditional place for gossip and conversation in Cardassian culture. Ziyal was inviting Garak to be her catty uncle who likes to talk shit at family functions and he accepted.

[terrainofheartfelt]

I'm sorry I have to disagree. When in Rome is Dan's post breakup song for Blair. Because it's musicians Dan would actually listen to imo. Can easily picture a tear rolling down his cheek as he listens on the flight to Rome

Did…did you mean the song “The Promise” by When in Rome? or is it one of the several songs titled “When in Rome” that comes up on the Spotify search function?

If the latter, then please let me know the artist bc I’m now curious and want to listen! If the former…. I don’t really see it. Or hear it, like, When in Rome (the group) sound more like they are to Rufus’ taste. Rufus Humphrey, confirmed Wham! stan, never forget.

But a plurality of music hcs can exist! But I shall continue pushing my own musical agenda on this blog o’ mine. That song bops though.

Either way, we were both wrong on this ask, because Dan’s breakup music is absolutely him listening to Blue on vinyl on repeat ala Jessica Day.

[mirage-of-the-virtuoso]

{Not sure if anyone would see this, but if you were at the gala and love to interact more with Chrys, you can legit just point him out and go "Wait, weren't you at that gala?"

He will deny this, but it's now an option to start talking to him.}

[harmcityherald]

I can attest that the moon is grey. Went there last night. Remind me not to do that again. Paying the price today. Laughable but uncomfortable. Part of me needed it. part of me is spanking myself. Part of me don't care what nobody thinks.

What the hell did I eat? whatever it was it was unacceptable. That was after we splurged and bought ourselves take out last night. You don't know how much you miss those sloppy burgers and fries until you go a few years without them.

alcohol was the mistake. One damn wine cooler lol. But mixing that with my long list of meds of course I know Is complete fuckery. So its a rough start waking up at 2 in the afternoon. Throwback to my old days.

[harrysbelovedd]

espresso [rafe cameron]

“oh he looks so cute, wrapped round my finger..” ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

pairing - rafe cameron x reader

summary - rafe doesn’t do relationships, cuddling, kisses, and sweetness. strictly no commitment hookups had sufficed. that was until he met the girl at the coffee shop.

warnings - nothing rlly, just super sweet whipped rafe

Rafe was heartless. Cold. Rough. Any situation he had with girls was nothing more than that—a situation, a fling. He had absolutely zero desire to be in anything committed.

To his friends, his sisters, his family, and his hookups—he was a mean, heartless monster. (Only tolerating Wheezie, of course.)

And he liked it that way.

No one expected anything from him, no one bored him with their feelings. It made his life so much easier not being overly concerned about the well-being of others.

But today, when Wheezie dragged Rafe to some fancy coffee shop she’s been wanting to visit, his philosophy flew out the window.

“Yeah, I’ll have the caramel latte with cold foam,” the young girl recites her order. “Oh! And a chocolate croissant.”

“Yeah, for sure!” I smile at her, typing her order into the till. “Anything for you?” I turn my attention to the man next to her, presumably a father or brother—probably brother, he seems younger.

He doesn’t say anything, his gaze remaining intent on my features, like my words flew right past his ears.

“Um.. sir? Did you want anything?”

The girl next him sighs, shoving his shoulder. “Stop staring at her you creep.”

His head shakes, like he was snapped out of a trance. He comes to the situation at hand, pinching the bridge of his nose “I’m sorry, that was probably creepy, my bad,” he chuckles awkwardly. The girl next to him makes a face at him, surprised by his actions.

“It’s okay,” I smile. “I zone out a lot too,” I let out a small giggle, trying to make him feel more comfortable.

He grins, “Yeah, um, I’ll take a macchiato, thanks.”

“Great, and could I get a name for the order?”

“Whe—“

“Rafe,” he interjects. I grin, writing his name down.

He pays for the drinks, smiling at me before going to find a table with the girl.

-

“What was that?” Wheezie questions loudly.

“Shut it, Wheeze. I was zoned out, is all.”

She blows out a puff of air, “Yeah right, me and that barista could practically see the drool falling out of your mouth the second you laid eyes on—“

I kick Wheezie’s leg under the table when that same pretty barista comes by with our drinks.

“One caramel latte with cold foam and a chocolate croissant,” She smiles sweetly, placing the pastry and sugary drink in front of Wheezie. “And one macchiato for Rafe.”

When my name rolls off her tongue, I swear I see stars. She says it with a sweetness I’ve never heard before. Her voice so soft and kind. As she’s placing the drink in front of me, all I can think about it how much I wish I knew her name.

So, I incite a moment for her to tell me. “Thank you…” I pause, trailing off.

“Oh, Y/n!” She says, surprise I asked such a question.

Y/n. So fitting. It’s perfect.

“That’s a pretty name,” for a pretty girl, I wish to say.

She grins, her cheeks flushing a shy pink. “Thanks, if you guys need anything else, let me know!” She informs before wandering off.

Once she’s out of ear shot, Wheezie begins. “Might as well go kiss her over the coffee beans.”

“Oh, shut up, Wheeze.”

one year later

I walk through the doors of Tannyhill like I have so many times before, it’s become a second home.

“Hi, sweetie.” Rose says from the living room where she sips on a glass of wine, reading a book.

“Hi, Rose! Do you know where—“

“He’s in the gym with Topper and Kelce. Beware I hear a lot of groaning and shouting. Too much testosterone for their own good.” She jokes.

I chuckle, shaking my head as I head to the side of the house near the garage where the gym is. The blasting of rap music grows louder the closer I get along with the clanking of weights, and occasional grunts.

I open the door and see Topper and Kelce doing pull ups while Rafe bench presses. Rafe can’t see me due to obviously needing to stay focused.

“Hey, Y/n,” Topper greets, jumping down from the pull up bar.

Before I could ever reply with a greeting, Rafe hooks up the bench press, sitting up quickly. “Y/n?” He smiles, his smile faltering when he turns back toward his friends. “Aye, Kelce, turn that shit down.”

He gets up, walking toward me and pushing me out the door and back into the hallway. He closes the door behind him and his hands find their spot on my waist, a grin taking home on his lips. “Hey baby.”

I smile, my cheeks flushing pink. “Hi.”

“What’re you doing here?” He asks, his thumbs rubbing comforting circles into my skin that’s exposed near the hemline of my shirt.

My hands run up his chest, manicured nails running along the collar of his shirt. “Nothin’… just missed you is all.”

“Yeah?” He questions, that sly smirk on his lips. “You missed me, baby?”

“Yeah, come hang out with me? We can just stay upstairs or we can go to the beach maybe? Or go get lunch, hm?” I coo, my hands now running along his jaw, studying his every feature.

“Whatever you wanna do, my love. Just wanna spend time with you.” He leans in, his lips kissing their favorite spots along my jaw and neck. He pauses for a moment when he hears childish giggles from the other side of the door.

Topper and Kelce walk out, teasing grins on their faces. “I missed you baby,” Topper mocks. “I missed you more, come kiss me and spend time with me, please Y/n. Let me worship the ground you—“

Kelce was cut off by a rough punch to his shoulder. “Ow! Shit, Rafe. Not my fault you’re whipped.”

Topper and Kelce chuckle, walking past us toward the front door. “Try that shit again and you won’t be able to walk out of here!” Rafe threatens.

“Oh cmon, Rafe. They just know you’re wrapped around my finger,” I say loud enough for them to hear.

“Ain’t that the motherfuckin’ truth!” Topper shouts before shutting the front door behind him.

Rafe buries his head in my shoulder, “Baby, you’re just egging them on.”

I chuckle, “Sorry, you’re just so cute all wrapped around my finger.”

He looks back in my eyes, a smile on his lips. “I’m whipped and I’m proud.”

I chuckle, slapping his chest playfully as I drag him upstairs.

[eponymoussquared]

Pesach time!

That magical time of year where we have to clean the entire house and not eat anything with bread(+most things you can make fake bread out of) for a week and a day. But its ok, we have cardboard-sorry, I mean Matza-to eat! In fact, its mandatory! ...I won't say there aren't any good parts of Pesach, but it can be a pain to get through. That said, in honor of Pesach, heres a little side story from Sheidy Business:

Sheidy Business: The Extra Cup

The meal was finished, and Mara couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief. Cooking for fifteen children and seventy-six Sheidim had been exhausting, but they had managed, especially since Sheidim could shrink. To her left, Leah, tugged at Mara's skirt. "Bubbe, it's time to pour for Eliyahu HaNavi, right?" Mara nodded with a smile. "Thats right. You go open the door, Leah-I'll pour." Immediately, the other kids started to argue. "Hey, no fair-I wanna help!" "Why should it be you!" Mara finished pouring a glass of wine, then clapped her hands, silencing the cacophony of voices. "Oy vey, fine, you can all go welcome him. " To herself she mumbled "I never thought the kids being TOO into the rituals would be an issue.." As they went, she smiled to herself, listening to the chorus of voices reciting the blessings that welcomed Eliyahu in. And sure enough, as it did every year, a coat floated through the doorway and took its seat across from her. It wasn't a very big coat, or a fancy one-it was rather shabby and worn, with tears here and there. Mara didn't mind, however-how the Prophet dressed was his business. She watched as the glass drained itself, although the coat did not move, and she nodded at it in respect. It waved a sleeve back at her. Then it got up and floated away, most likely having many more places to visit tonight. Mara chuckled slightly. She wondered sometimes if it was merely a hallucination, or some dybbuk or any other kind of ghost that was just messing with her. But she liked to think it was Eliyahu joining her for the Seder every year. She clapped her hands again, and said "Come on, kids-and close the door again. Eliyahu's got his fill, and we don't want to let all the heat out."

[syoddeye]

john price x f!reader thing. unedited. ~600 words.

john price finds a dent in the driver’s door and a note tucked under a wiper.

sorry i can’t afford to pay, please forgive me x

and he’s angry, of course. who wouldn’t be? piece of shit. then he registers the looping handwriting and the little heart in the corner. interesting. he pulls the cctv. lo and behold, there she is. the culprit. some stumbling drunk buffoon.

~~

you probably shouldn’t have nabbed an e-scooter when you were three sheets to the wind, but you did, and fuck, you’re paying for it. you genuinely feel bad about the dent you left in the parked car last night, but you think a broken wrist and three stitches in your lip is more than enough punishment, thanks. you groan, remembering how you tossed the scooter into a bush and hiked a few streets away before calling 999. having to clock in for an opening shift added insult to injury.

~~

he imagines it’s rough going, working an espresso machine with a busted wrist. he supposes the manager didn’t want her as the cashier given the lip. pity, the swelling and stitches aside, she’s quite cute. but serves her right.

he wonders how she’ll react when he picks up his coffee and procures the printed still of her face, clear as day, fleeing from the scene of the crime.

he should feel bad, considering her injuries and what a barista job pays, but. it’s the principle of the thing.

“rough night?” he asks, hovering at the end of the bar.

“huh? oh, yeah. could say that,” she smiles tiredly. it’s a little strained, but still warm. “pity partied too hard.”

john’s smirk flattens. “pity party?”

“yeah,” she shrugs. “series of unfortunate events.”

like running into my car?

“what, bad date?” he jokes carefully, hiding behind a friendly grin.

“ha, guess so. it was supposed to be an anniversary dinner.” she explains dryly, looking all the more defeated as she tamps the grounds.

“supposed to be?”

she glances up, locking in the portafilter with a crank of her good arm. she finally looks a little suspicious of him. smart. “yeah.”

“i don’t mean to pry. you just seem like you could use a vent.” solid recovery.

it works. she considers a moment, shrugs again, and nods as she pulls the shot. “guess so,” she licks her lip and looks back, evidently deeming him harmless. not smart.

“found out he was cheating, called him on it, and he stormed out. after we ordered.”

that’s. that’s not what he expected. but it stirs something oddly protective. john’s a bit old-fashioned, he’s the first to admit it, so to hear about a man carrying himself so poorly? a man running around on a pretty thing like her?

it doesn’t sit well with him. car be damned.

“so how’d you…” he prompts, nodding at the cast.

“oh, yeah, we ordered some fancy wine. i drank most of the bottle alone, sobbing,” she cracks a self-deprecating smile and it dislodges something in his chest. “but the server didn’t charge me for dessert. i, uh, fell on my way home.”

crashed. you crashed into my car.

“sounds terrible.”

“it was. the whole night was. anyway.” she pauses to slide a pen from her apron to write on the cup. “americano to go?” she asks, pushing the drink over the counter, eyes floating to the next order.

john spots the same little heart, the looping letters. he looks back at her, plugging along despite the clear heartache and injuries. he sighs, crumpling the print out in his pocket.

“think i’ll have it to stay, actually,” he mumbles, knowing she doesn’t hear him as she makes the next drink.

he camps out at a table where he can watch her. there’s a dent in his car, but he’s decided there’s a barista-sized hole in his life.

[listentoourheart]

Just read a post saying 夜華 "represents an absolute disaster of a man" who really hurt 素素 and questioning why people liked his character.

Well. That is true.

He is an absolute disaster of a man. But he's also a sincere, intelligent, disciplined, and absolutely loyal disaster of a man trying his best to throw off centuries of inculcation and socialization while trying to work within the system he was raised in (after, notably, attempting to fake his death to avoid the system in the first place).

He might be epically failing for the five years (? three years? ten years?) he's with 素素, but he's trying his best. And he takes personal responsibility after he fails her instead of running around blaming everything else the way a typical bad boy does in American media (and this is one situation where I think the blame should be shared around). And changes his behavior for himself and his son (instead of, again, typical American media bad boy temporarily changing himself to win a girl).

It's been 3 years in college away from home and I still flinch and immediately capitulate when my mother yells at me over the phone. Imagine the ingrained response after 30,000 years with the knowledge your grandfather can pretty much DO ANYTHING up to and including executing your wife grusomely if he feels like it and nobody else is going to lift a finger to care--much less stop it.

He's not entitled to forgiveness from any viewer or from 白淺, but he's a character I personally forgive (though, yes, I did curse him out multiple times during the whole "素素 in Celestial Palace" arc).

[biolums]

keeping my makeup on bc i wanted my roommates to see it when we hung out but when i text asking if they want to hang out now no one answers. guess ill just die. hhhhhhh

[blondieeu]

salvatore. nanami k.

cw: filthy, age gap

reader is 23, nanami is like 30-45 if you have a problem then go away

an arranged marriage with nanami.

your parents selfishly gave you away to him as a business move. on your end it was involuntary, but on his it was just something so he could take over his fathers business faster that required having a wife.

nanami kento is way older than you— at least got 10-15 years on you. he woke up early, worked out, shaved his face every week and stayed in his office for most of the day, giving you space. nanami was grown.

nanami kento was also a very traditional man, hence why your parents chose him. he enjoyed a traditional household. nanami worked during the day, handled business, his fathers business that he was in the works of taking over, and you? he only expected you to play the housewife role, giving you money when asked for various tasks. he only really asked for you to take care of the house and laundry.

you tried your best to not like him— to spite your parents. you really tried to ignore him every night when you went to sleep in the same bed together, you tried to stay quiet when he asked vague questions about what you wanted for dinner or what you wanted to do that day.

but you couldn’t ignore how attractive your husband was. he was mature and he always smelled good. you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together when he got a faint stubble on his face when it neared his time to shave again.

so after a couple months of moving in together you’re sitting at the dinner table, on the topic about trying to have sex or not. there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you didnt wanna have sex with nanami. even if you were pissed that your parents married you off, you did like your husband.

“we don’t have to.”

he said it bluntly, taking another bite of the pasta as he sat on the other side of the table. he was dressed in a collared shirt, a tie neatly around his neck.

you quickly picked up the glass of wine on the table. glass barely even touched before you started drinking regardless of you being well into the meal. you didn’t drink wine.

“i wouldn’t mind trying.”

he didn’t have any real expression on his face as he ate. glasses a little further down his nose than usual as he finished the pasta with one last big bite.

“okay. we’ll try tonight then.”

“ohhnnnggshiiittt”

nanamis cock was fat and gritty. must’ve had about a million veins on it because you swear you could feel every single one. he was well groomed as well, he kept it hairy but to an extent which was expected from him.

he knew how big his cock was. he knew it was big all the way from when he even brought up the topic of having see to begin with. getting into the bedroom and having him avoid taking his cock out until you were all prepped and in a daze.

and nanami made you feel so full with him. could feel him all the way up in your stomach. he made fucking sure you knew he was in there too from the way he pressed and pushed around at your abdomen whenever he got a chance.

your husband had your ass at the end of the bed. all perked up for him as he stood behind you on the floor. nanami had his hands on both sides of your upper back as he pushed you farther down into your shared comforter.

“does it feel better like this? or in the—previous position?”

his voice sounded out of breath, quiet subtle groans coming from him as he waited for his question to be answered. his pretty blond hair falling out of its usual perfect place but his pace never ever faltered.

it was honestly sickening for nanami to seriously expect a response from you like this. your body so hot, kisses and sweat coating it with your face so fucked out. eyes glossing over and your mouth half open, head bobbing with every stroke he gifted you.

the various pornographic noises that left your mouth bounced off the walls and throughout the house along with the even worse sounds of his pelvis hitting your ass over and over.

“n-amiiii”

“talk to me”

your new husband was quick to grab a fistful of your hair and pull you up from your position on the bed. forcing your head to rest on his shoulder and letting his hands glide along your body.

his fingers traced symbols and letters—his name— on your clit, the other pinching and pulling at your breasts while he kept rocking his hips into yours, mindlessly. your hands wrapped around both of his wrists, pushing at his waist and thighs softly.

“s’good nami”

“yeah?”

the blond started to kiss at your neck, his stubble tickling you but his motions never stopping. he was so experienced at this, made you feel so naive, inexperienced.

blondieeu xx

a/n: haven’t written for my fav in a while and i had this locked up in my drafts!!!