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#flowery dr
shrewdoodle · 3 months
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RAHHHHHHHH‼️‼️‼️‼️ I LOVE SECRET BOSSES‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
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bcbdrums · 28 days
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Ron and Drakken's cooking show part ??:
Drakken: So, Stoppable. What got you into cooking? Ron: Well I had the Granny Crocket cooking set when I was eight, but KP is the one who really inspired me. Drakken: Possible!? How? Ron: One day I told her her tomato soup tasted funny, and then she told me it was microwaved ketchup. Drakken: Drakken: ....My grandmother's spaghetti sauce was boiled ketchup and garlic. Rufus: *weeping*
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selfox · 2 months
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And then they slept and it definitely took longer to Dr D to change back to human, cus as a cat he is very cuddly and purry.
Listen, I just wanted to turn him into a cat. Shego is waiting for her turn two. And then it'll be huge cat pile.
wip comic doodle sketch thing
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fma03envy · 2 years
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Vibezzz??
omg omg omg omg playlist for Asirel
Here you go:
(I made this impromptu by looking through my really long playlist of all the songs I like and choosing any ones that felt like they'd have Asriel vibes, so I'm not entirely decided on all my choices but yk)
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carbondated · 4 months
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tag dump ( cringe )
#A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme ... canon / verse 00/post agmgtw#fair youth. beneath the trees. thou canst not leave. thy song. nor ever can those trees be bare; ... canon/verse 1/university days#what mad pursuit? what struggle to escape? ... canon/verse 1/ pre library#heard melodies are sweet but those unheard. are sweeter; therefore ... canon/verse2/ pre final cluster#nor ever bid the Spring adieu; and happy melodist. unwearied; ... canon/ verse2/the halassi peacetime years#who are these coming to the sacrifice? To what green altar ... canon/verse2/decline of the final cluster#what little town by river or sea shore. Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel ... canon/verse2/return to luna#beauty is truth. truth beauty —that is all. ye know on earth. and all ye need to know ... canon/verse2/final years#gloria. did you finally see that enough is enough? ... arc/verse2/ dr niamh bertrun#heaven help me now. Heaven show the way; ... arc/verse01/ms melody malone#i would lie awake and pray you don't lie awake for me ... arc/verse01/prof melodie williams#i could take the whole world with me ... arc/verse2/prof allegra marlowe#meet me under the clocks at flinders st ... arc/verse2/mfmm tie in#gloria. no one said enough is enough ... arc/verse1/tdors vol#you crawled up on your cross ... my hand was tied to yours ... arc/verse1/darillium#every night away. every day alone. get me back on my own two feet ... arc/verse02/datacore#lay me gently in cold. dark earth. no grave can hold my body down ... arc/verse/02/library resurrection#of marble men and maidens overwrought .... wardrobe#thou foster-child of silence and slow time. sylvan historian; ... archaeology
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godblooded · 1 year
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“you know i love you, right?” mainverse!! confession!!
SEND KAT RANDOM THINGS.
you don’t even pause between her words. your eyelashes don’t touch your cheek, don’t so much as butterfly-brush the surface of your skin. between one breath and the next you belong to her entirely and as each moment comes to a close the next one claims you as hers alone. it’s all you’ve ever wanted; it feels so right you ache with it.
“ i love you. not too — you didn’t say it first, and i never say it in continuation ; every second i think it anew and have to let you know. and for me, you do the same. ”
you haven’t lifted your eyes from the car’s sleek dashboard, black and yawning and immense in this enormous black sheet of glass, this huge black box of a car, shiny and empty and unknowable as you. maybe it feels so out of character for you because it is; maybe you don’t know you, a lot of the time. but if you look them in the eyes long enough you fall into your reflection and it swallows you whole — when you wake up, you’re whole again. they make you and remakes you with every time they hold you in their gaze. spencer creates you into someone knowable, a trait so valuable you yearn for it.
“ thank you, spencer hastings. ”
you were a ghost before she met you. & in one sentence she’s loved you alive.
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harryspet · 5 months
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bambi eyes (2) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
word count: 4.7k
In which you've been a good girl and your Daddy Rafe can't get enough of you.
main masterlist
bambi eyes masterlist
When you opened your eyes the following day, you could still feel Rafe all over you. All at the same time, you felt him inside of you, his mouth kissing your lips, and the bed dipping beside you when he pressed his weight into you. When you slowly realized he wasn’t in bed with you anymore, part of you felt you might have imagined last night. You’d never truly enjoyed being with men, and last night, you felt closeness for the first time. Perhaps it was the combination of all the gifts and the attention he had provided you yesterday. 
You still couldn’t quite rap the idea around your head that you were the first and maybe only girl he had done this with. How long was he planning on keeping you here?
The digital clock sitting on the nightstand read exactly 8:00, and you took it as a cue to get out of bed. As you made up the bed, your mind again wandered back to last night. You imagined he left as soon as you fell asleep, and you’d let yourself get so comfortable that you hadn’t even noticed. 
You stared at the doorknob for a short while. It would be locked, you knew that, but what if it wasn’t — it didn’t matter. 
Before he left, you noticed he left you an outfit hanging on the armoire. He’d picked out a matching set of light pink leggings and a matching top. He also picked out a pair of socks that had little, tiny bunnies on them and lacy, white underwear. You brought the clothes with you to the bathroom, your fingers caressing the soft fabric of the clothing. You didn’t recognize brand, sure that it was popular with American girls.
You went through your morning routine, one that Rafe had laid out yesterday, and you found yourself having fun. You brushed your teeth as you ran your bath. There were a million bath products, and you spent a few minutes opening and smelling all of them. You settled on something sweet and flowery, and soon the aroma was spreading throughout the entire bathroom. 
You settled in the water with the bubbles enveloping you. 
You almost settled into a moment of peacefulness until you heard your bedroom door unlock. Wearing a nice plaid shirt and khaki pants, Rafe entered your small sanctuary. You sat up in the water, worried that you’d been taking too long. His eyes were soft and unthreatening, and you let yourself rest again. He took a seat on the edge of the tub, looking down at you, “Enjoying yourself?”
You nodded, “It’s nice. Thank you, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, princess,” He smiled, “You did good. Last night, I mean.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I have some exciting plans for us,” He stated before he reached into his pocket, “Here, I need you to take this.”
He placed a small white pill in your hand. You watched as he made his way over to the sink, filling up a cup of water and bringing it to you.
“What is it for?” 
“It’s, uhm, so you don’t get pregnant,” Oh. You placed the pill on your tongue, washing it down with the liquid, “I got a little ahead of myself last night. That’s why I’m going to have a doctor check you out today.”
“I’m going to the hospital?”
“No. Dr. Watts makes house calls. And he’ll be here in thirty minutes. I’ll come back and get ya’, yeah?”
“Okay,” You agreed, slightly worried that Rafe thought you needed to be seen by a doctor. 
Rafe moved to leave but stopped in the doorway, “Don’t worry, there will be time for little Rafe’s and Bambi’s. Just not yet.” 
You nodded, conveying your understanding, but in reality, you didn’t understand how he could know he wanted that with you, even in the future. After he left the room, you realized your fingers were beginning to wrinkle. You reached down to drain the water from the tub, deciding your next pressing issue was how you’d do your hair. 
There was a vanity made into the sink countertop with a place underneath for a chair to fit. You pulled it out and made yourself comfortable, looking closely through all of the drawers. You find lots of hair accessories, makeup, and other beauty products. You picked some things out that wouldn’t require a full tutorial for you to use. You also chose two pink bows to tie to the ends of your braids, taking a guess that Rafe might like that you match your outfit. 
According to Rafe, Figure 8 had a lot of these places called country clubs, and you wondered what sort of things people wore to places like that. Surely, Rafe would make sure you wouldn’t feel out of place there. If you fully earned his trust, if you continued to be good, you could probably have a normal life here. People were happy here, especially the ones that called themselves Kooks. 
The leggings fit you well, grabbing onto your curves, and the cropped pink top also fit you snuggly. 
Outside the window, you could see boats riding by in the distance and large birds that stood by the water, wading and looking for fish. You could already tell his home was large, just from the view from your room, making you curious about the rest of the house. As if he was able to read your mind, Rafe appeared again, holding the door propped open, “Let me show you the rest of Tannyhill, Bambi.”
You straightened, trying not to seem too eager as you approached the door. As you grazed past you, he rested a hand on your hip, rubbing his palm against your bottom. You looked down a long hallway with lots of old paintings and elegant-looking fixtures. He took your hand, leading you down the hallway, “This is my room,” Rafe opened double doors, and you peeked inside to see a large dark wood canopy bed.
He didn’t show you every room; in fact, he seemed to ignore one specifically. Your eyes widened when he brought you out onto a huge patio that overlooked an even more ginormous green lawn. 
“All of this is–”
“Yeah,” He finished your sentence for you, “Anyone would be happy here, right?”
“Yes,” You agreed quickly, which seemed to please him. He grabbed your hand in response, holding it and caressing your thumb with his own larger one. Although you could tell the seasons were changing, the weather felt nice, and there was a constant breeze flowing and relieving you from the heat of the sun. 
He gave you time to take in the scenery but five minutes later, you both could see a car coming down the horseshoe-shaped driveway, “That’s Dr. Watts. You ready?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
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You didn’t have much of experience with doctors but you knew already you must not be a good patient. You struggled with almost every answer that Dr. Watts asked you and, at some point, he started directing all of his questions towards Rafe. 
When was your last period? What kinds of birth control have you used? Have you ever had something called a pap smear? Do you have any allergies? What’s your family’s medical history? 
“I gave her a Plan B this morning, just to be safe.”
You found yourself just trying to keep up with the conversation they were having. At some points, you found the view outside more interesting, “There are small procedures we can do. An IUD can be placed inside the uterus, an implant can be placed inside the arm, or there is the traditional birth control pill. Right now, I can give her a shot that will prevent pregnancy for the next 3 months.”
You were sat where Rafe had placed you, on a stool in the middle of the massive kitchen. 
Dr. Watts didn’t look like what you imagined a doctor would look like. He didn’t wear a white coat; in fact, he was dressed very casually in shorts and a button-up. He also brought all the things he needed in a briefcase. 
“That’s fine,” Rafe agreed, his arms crossed. 
“Alright, so after that shot, we’ll do a couple of vaccination shots. And then I’ll take some blood for testing.”
Dr. Watts had several syringes laid out on the kitchen island, picking up the first one after washing his hands and putting on some gloves. Rafe grabbed ahold of your hand again, his eyes commanding you to look at him, “This is just to make sure you’re healthy. It won’t feel good, but it’s not a punishment.”
“Okay,” You said, although your heart was pounding, and you already felt tears in your eyes. 
“I’m right here; squeeze my hand,” He said, pushing your hair back as he gazed over your face. On your other side, Dr. Watts lifted the sleeve of your shirt. The first shot was to your upper arm, and the pinch made you squeeze your eyes tight, but it was over relatively quickly, “You’re doing so good, sweet girl. What do you think about ice cream for breakfast?”
You opened your eyes, and the calmness in his eyes was a signal to you that everything was okay, “Lana has the day off, but I can make an ice cream sundae. We’ve got everything, whip cream, cherries, chocolate sprinkles. What do you think?”
Rafe made you talk through the next few shots and when the doctor had to draw your blood, and he wiped your tears when you were all done. 
“That wasn’t so bad. I’ll walk Dr. Watts out, and we’ll make some ice cream.”
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Rafe noticed you seemed almost disappointed when he led you back to your room after your ice cream feast. He liked showing you around your new home and the place he grew up, but he wasn’t quite ready to unhook your leash. You were safest in his home and even safer within these four walls. 
Rafe took a seat at the edge of the bed, his hand still intertwined with yours, “How does your arm feel, Bambi?” 
“A little sore,” You answered, although Rafe could tell by your eyes that it was worse than what you were portraying. He pulled you gently forward, encouraging you to straddle his lap. 
“Poor thing,” Rafe said, his voice becoming even more raspy as he felt your closeness, “But hey, you did so well. You know, I’m really happy with you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you’re a good little girl. I can tell that you appreciate everything that I’ve done.”
“I-I do,” You replied quickly, making Rafe smirk. 
“And you understand that I’m in control … I mean, it’s only fair. Who knows what would have happened if I left you with that man, with those people,” You nodded at his words, and negative thoughts of his father, Sarah, and his evil stepmother started to enter his thoughts, “I’m giving you the perfect life, the happy home that I never got. Whatever, I won’t get fucking mopey, but just know after all that I’ve been through, I know how to lead a family properly.”
He stopped his mind from wandering to darker places and grabbed ahold of your hips, “Thank you for … taking me away.”
“I had to,” Rafe leaned in to kiss your neck, “You’re mine now. Only mine.”
He loved that he could smell the perfume he picked out for you and feel you in the clothes he bought for you. He took so much care in creating this paradise for you. 
“Daddy’s going to make you feel better,” Rafe said in your ear, “I have to taste you. You want Daddy to taste your pretty pussy?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Tell me,” Rafe commanded, squeezing your ass with his large hands. 
“I want you to taste me, Daddy.”
“Good girl, don’t be nervous,” Rafe praised, wrapping an arm around your lower back before he swiftly turned you over, placing you gently against the bed, “I’ll be gentle, just how I was last night. Not going to fill you up, just want to taste you.”
You were quite helpless with your arm being so sore, Rafe could tell you were struggling to move it. He thought of tying you down, of course, when you felt better. He took his time with your leggings, still excited as ever to see more of you. He spread your legs, kissing your center through the fabric of your panties. Wrapping his arms underneath you, he pulled you into him, letting your thighs warm his face. He kissed you like this for a while, teasing you, making you squirm when he kissed your inner thigh. Not able to wait any longer, Rafe pulled your thin panties to the side, “There’s Daddy’s pretty little pussy,” He kissed your clit first, and the next sounds out of his mouth were guttural as he took you into his mouth. 
You tasted divine, sweet like he always called you. Rafe became relentless, waiting until you were close to your peak before he pulled away. Heavy breaths fanned over your sensitive area, and you whined because of the lack of friction, “You liked that, didn’t you, Bambi?”
“Yes, i-it feels good, Daddy,” You responded, slightly embarrassed by how quickly you got worked up. 
“Should I keep going? Does my little girl want to cum? Go ahead and ask Daddy. Tell me what you want.”
“Can you please make me cum, Daddy?” Rafe could tell in your tone of voice that maybe you weren’t sure what you asking. He hadn’t considered that you might not know what an orgasm felt like. 
“Yes, Bambi, of course. Talk through it; tell me what it feels like, sweet girl,” After those words, Rafe held you even tighter and dipped his head down again. He pressed his tongue into you, waiting to find that spot that seemed to make you cry out before he focused all the pressure there. 
“It feels …it feels–” You gasped, “It’s too much, it’s too much–” Rafe took your scattered words and cries of pleasure as a good sign to keep adding pressure. When you tried to pull away from him, Rafe knew you were having an orgasm, but he kept you there, “It’s too much, Daddy!”
Rafe pulled away, giving your clit a short break, but soon he was replacing his mouth with his fingers. Rafe shushed you, “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” He pushed two fingers in and out of you, curling them up to find the right spot. For Rafe, the best thing about being with a woman was being able to watch them have multiple orgasms in a row. This time, he’d only make you have two, but he’d soon find out what your limit was, “One more. Just give me one more.”
Rafe started sucking your clit as he moved his fingers, “Please, please,” You wouldn’t beg him to stop; you were too much of a good girl. He knew what you needed and wouldn’t let you run from it. 
He slowed his fingers as you rode out your orgasm. Rafe entangled himself from your legs, needing to see your face. You looked so cute trying to catch your breath and with your face scrunched up. Rafe brought his hands over his mouth, wiping away the wetness, “That’s my girl.”
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A few days passed in your new room. Sometimes it crossed your mind to ask Rafe when you’d be able to walk around the house or when you’d get to go outside, but you stopped yourself every time. You thought you should be more grateful towards him, he’d provided you with so many things, and he was much kinder than any man you’d ever met. He was handsome, too, with blue eyes that often made it hard for you to think when you looked into them. 
Every day was similar; there were no more visitors like Dr. Watts, and you completed your routine exactly like Rafe had instructed. Usually, you’d share all of your meals, and Rafe would leave in between for work. You got more comfortable in your own company. At first, playing with the toys felt silly, like the activities were meant for someone much younger. Slowly, it started to feel like satisfying a part of you that hadn’t existed in a long while. 
Today, you had several coloring books laid out on the ground in front of your bed, and you’d spent most of the day coloring. You liked having your dolls set up nearby so, of course, they could see your work, “What do you think, Molly?” You’d spend hours by yourself, and it started feeling natural to talk to them, “Red or blue for the spots … Blue? You’re right; blue would be perfect.”
Rafe returned to you before dinner but you noticed he hadn’t brought a tray of food like he usually did. Instead, he was carrying a large cardboard box, “I’ve got a surprise for you,” He set it down on the carpet nearby you, his face lit up with excitement. You set down your marker, crawling on your knees towards the box. Rafe kneeled down with you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a soft kiss, “You’ve been so damn good your first week; something came for you in the mail.”
You looked at him, baffled, “I don’t know what it could be.”
“Open it,” He winked at you. 
Cautiously, you pulled open the flaps of the cardboard and then reached into the mountain of packing peanuts. You pulled out a long box, immediately recognizing a doll's face, but one that looked very similar to you. It was the right skin tone and had the same curls that you did, “Really? For me?” You placed the box on the ground, just admiring her face. 
“Yeah, why should you have to play with my sister’s old things?” Rafe opened up the box even further, and you could see she was dressed in a beautiful floral gown. It was a cream color with pretty blue flowers, puffy sleeves, and an even flouncier skirt. 
“She’s so pretty … and the dress is…,” You said, unable to take your eyes off of her, “You didn’t have to; I really do like the other dolls–”
“I wanted to,” Rafe insisted, “And that’s not it. There’s something else.”
When you reached back inside the box, you felt the top of a hanger. You pulled out a clear garment bag and inside was the exact replica of the dress your new doll was wearing, and it looked your size, “For you to wear to dinner,” Rafe explained after you stared speechless, “Which, for tonight, will be served in the dining room.”
“We’ll be matching,” You thought out loud, next picking up the doll from the packaging. 
“She’s welcome to dinner if you want to bring her. She’s completely yours. You can name her and everything,” Rafe said, gently grabbing ahold of your chin, “I want to see you in your new dress, though.”
“Yes, Daddy,” You agreed, standing with both the doll and dress in hand, “If I’m Bambi, maybe she can be …Bunny?”
“That’s a cute name, sweet girl,” Rafe agreed, clapping his hands together, “Run along, I want to be surprised.”
Excitetely, you padded over to the bathroom. When you put the dress on, you were surprised by how similar they were, down to the placement of the flowers, although yours fit much shorter than your dolls. When you stepped back into the room with Bunny in your hands, you smoothed down the back of your dress so it would fully cover your bottom. Rafe’s eyes seemed to light up at the sight, and you did a small spin for him. 
“Wow, don’t you two look precious.”
His eyes looked hungry, although you could tell he wasn’t thinking about tonight’s dinner. 
For the first time in several days, you left your room, one hand tucking Bunny close to your body and your other hand intertwined with Rafe’s. The lights around the house were dim and Rafe led you to down a long hallway to a candlelit room. Although the long dining room had twelve chairs, only two places were set. Rafe pulled back the chair right next to the head of the table, and you initially missed his cue for you to sit as your eyes looked all over the room until he tapped your bottom. Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment, but you still took your seat. 
In front of you was a delicious-smelling plate of steak with a red sauce, small potatoes, and carrots. There was also a beautiful flower arrangement on the table, one made of cream and light purple flowers, “You look fucking beautiful, princess,” Rafe whistled, taking his place at the head of the table, “Like a fucking painting or something.”
Rafe’s words made you smile, and his compliments often made you feel overwhelmed. You weren’t used to someone taking notice of your appearance outside of sex, and when he looked at you, he looked at you as a whole, “Thank you, Daddy,” The words were starting to feel natural on your tongue, “It looks very nice in here, and the food looks delicious.”
“You ever been on a date before?” Rafe asked, pouring something fizzy into your wine glass. You shook your head in response, “Usually, you share a meal or do an activity together; meanwhile, you’re getting to know the other person. You’re lucky you don’t have to go on a million bad dates before you’ve found the right person.”
“What makes a date bad?” You asked. 
You moved to pick up your knife but paused when Rafe grabbed ahold of it first. He took you for as well and began cutting your steak into smaller pieces, “For me, girls have always wanted … things from me. Superficial things. You think they’re listening to you when you’re pouring your heart out …but really just thinking about how they’re gonna get what they want from you.”
You frowned, squeezing Bunny closer to your stomach, “That sounds horrible.”
When Rafe handed you your fork, you assumed you could begin to eat. 
Rafe nodded his head, taking a swig of brown liquor from his glass, “I don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
“Will your sister ever come to visit?” If the purpose of a date was to get to know the other person, you thought you could get some curiosities you had off your mind. 
“I have two sisters. Wheezie, she’ll probably come visit at some point, uhm but my other sister probably won’t. She’s not really welcome, anyways,” Rafe answered, poking at food on his plate, “Wheezie, though, I’m sure she’ll like you.”
Your lips pulled into a small smile, “I’ve always wanted siblings. I had some friends in the other girls, but Mas-” You stopped yourself, “We weren’t really supposed to like each other.”
“Blood doesn’t really mean anything. You should be able to choose your family,” Rafe said, “What matters is who’s loyal to you, you know?
You agreed, although you weren’t sure you really knew what loyalty felt like. As you were finishing up dinner, a loud knocking interrupted one of Rafe’s stories. Rafe seemed more caught off guard than even you were, fumbling to pull out his phone and check something, “Shit,” he cursed, “C’mon, Daddy’s got to handle some business.”
Rafe grabbed your arm as he pulled you from the dining room. He brought you to the stairs, “Go upstairs, close your door, and wait for me,” You tried to glance out the window panes by the front door but couldn’t get a glimpse of who was there, “Go.”
The strict tone in his voice made you hurry up the stairs, although once you were at the top, you ducked down and crouched behind the banister. You watched Rafe open the door, and a shorter, dark-haired man pushed his way inside, “What’s so fucking urgent that you’re showing up without calling?” You heard Rafe ask. 
“Don’t you look fancy,” The other man commented, “Having a dinner party without me?”
“Dude, what is it?” Rafe sounded impatient. 
“It’s Maybank. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have some important shit to tell you.”
“Fine, come to my office.”
Their voices faded away as they moved further into the house. You debated sneaking back down and eavesdropping, but you looked down at Bunny, her face reminding you to be good. You wandered back to your room, and like Rafe told you to, you closed the door behind you. 
He was occupied for an hour before he returned to your room. Running a hand through his hair, he breathed out a sigh, “Sorry about that,” Rafe said, taking a spot next to you on the bed. 
“Who was it?” You asked quietly. 
Rafe hesitated, “... a business associate of mine. I got some bad news. I’ll probably be gone most of the day tomorrow.”
“Can’t I go with you?”
“You still need time to adjust,” He looked down at you, “It isn’t something you’ll want to see anyways. My work is nothing a little girl like you should be involved in. I won’t let you worry your pretty little head.”
“I’m sorry …”
“I’m not mad at you,” Rafe grabbed ahold of your chin, “Before if I had gotten news like that …man, I would’ve lost my shit. But I have you, and just looking at you makes me feel better.”
His hand moved to your throat, squeezing as he kissed your lips, “I want to fuck you so bad in that cute little dress.”
You struggled to get a breath, his tongue exploring your mouth as he tightened his grip around your neck. Instinctively, you grabbed ahold of his wrist, and he pushed you back onto the bed. Just as he released his grip and you were able to take in a full breath, Rafe grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over. His movements didn’t feel like they usually did; he was rough and desperate. 
“Up on your knees,” He lifted up your waist and then lifted up the skirt of your dress, your face pressed into the bed, “Good girl, stay like that, spread open for me.”
You heard him spit before you felt him press a wet hand against your clit, rubbing, before coating your entrance. He was already hard, and he wasted no time pressing his length against your entrance. In this position, you felt him even deeper as he pushed inside of you, “Daddy,” You whimpered. 
“You’re doing so good for me,” Rafe cooed, “I know you can take more. I know you can handle it.”
You squeezed the bed tightly as he moved faster and went just as deep. Rafe kept you from pulling away, holding your hips so tight you were sure they might bruise. Unmercifully, he rocked into you, only going harder when you felt yourself reaching your peak, “I’m cumming, Daddy,” You told him, your voice muffled by the fabric of the comforter, “I’m cumming.”
Rafe grabbed the back of your throat, pushing into you harder, “Cum baby, you’re squeezing me so fucking good,” Rafe panted, “Oh, Daddy’s gonna fill you up, sweet girl.”
You felt tears begin to fall, a swirl of emotions inside you. It hurt, him stretching you over and over, and yet you felt good at the same time. You were so happy to have a home with a new Master who actually cared for you and wanted to take care of you. You were still scared that you’d wake up tomorrow and you’d be back sleeping on cold, cement floors. 
After Rafe finished, the tight grip he had changed to soft caresses. He softly rubbed your bottom before slowly pulling up the skirt of your dress, “Lay down, Bambi,” Although your muscles were sore, you crawled further onto the bed, laying down on your stomach. Rafe fell beside you, caressing your hair and then your tear-stained cheeks, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
You wrapped your arms around him as he pulled you into a deep hug. Rafe rubbed your back until you thought you might fall asleep until you heard him say, “You won’t like it if you wake up in your dress. Let’s go brush our teeth and change into our jammies. Then Daddy will tuck you in, okay?”
Weakly, you nodded against his hard chest, “Okay, Daddy.”
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part 3
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cosmicdream222 · 6 months
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The void explained in an old Reiki book
The other day @gorgeouslypink posted about Reiki and the Void on her challenge account here. Usui Reiki is the type of reiki I learned back around 2018, although I kinda half-assed the training and never fully read the book 💀 So I found one of my old Reiki books (it’s from 1995!) and flipped to the back to see if there was an index. There wasn’t, so I proceeded to open it to a random page and what is it about? The Void.
It’s kind of flowery Buddhist language but it’s the void y’all:
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Here is the text for easier reading:
Reality is created by the action of Mind from the Void. The Void is the depths of fathomless peace, purity, perfection, mystery and joy. In Wiccan terms it is Spirit, Ether or Goddess. All Be-ing comes from the Void, and it is the essence of all existence. All Be-ing (everyone) is already in a state of perfection, a part of the Buddha Nature (or Goddess Within). Reality is also the Non-Void, which is all potential, and a vast complex of worlds and shifting universes.
Mind emerging from the Void is the first Buddha source, but this source is obscured to most people by the illusion of the senses, the Non-Void. The reality created by this obscuring of Pure Mind is like the reality created in a mirror. People in incarnation do not awaken to their intrinsic purity (the Void) which exists beyond the senses. Their understanding is based upon the Non-Void's illusion. A distorted mind on Earth acts to creates a distorted reality, resulting in suffering.
"Mind, which manifests itself as wisdom, is intrinsically Void; yet everything proceeds from it and is therefore mind's creation." Everything real is created from the perfection of the Void. Yet, because of distortion and illusion, we perceive the world as imperfect and remain attached to delusion.
Wisdom=energy=creation is the Void, and participates in Nirvana. Human perception of reality is Non-Void, based upon potential, and participates in the Mind's creation of suffering in the world.
Enlightenment is understanding the joy of the Void, one's perfect Buddha Nature, and leaving the attachments and delusions of the Non-Void and the senses. Once true reality is perceived, attachments and cravings no longer have meaning, and Nirvana is attained. This understanding is Enlightenment, which leads to the release of the soul from karma and incarnation. It happens by the freeing of the Mind from delusion.
- Essential Reiki by Diane Stein, 1995
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
My tl;dr summary:
Our reality is created by the Mind, which comes from the Void. Everything comes from the Void, and its limitless potential. The 3D world (the non-void) we see is an illusion created by the senses. Unenlightened people suffer because they are stuck in the 3D’s illusion, thinking what they perceive with their senses is real.
True understanding, or Enlightenment, comes when we grasp the joy and perfection of the Void, realizing we already have it all, and can release attachments and delusions of the senses.
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dominadespina · 1 month
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THE SINS OF DESPINA HATUN
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Since the 14th century, one woman has haunted the history of the Ottoman Empire and the very minds of their historians with her influence over a Sultan who suffered a hummiliating fate.
The only wife of a Sultan who has been the target of curses; Despina Hatun. 
The reason for this great hatred of her has to do with the fact that she was influential and remain christian throughout her marriage. She was able to maitain the first and main place in the harem of her husband and to make him like her. A likeness that overtime grew into love and devotion. 
Her wishes did not remain mere wishes, and for this reason the muslim associates of Sultan Yildirim Bayezid Han, as well as later Turksih historians resented her. Today most people remember her as “Bayezid’s great love”. 
To Ottoman sources she was a fatal woman who lured their Sultan into sin. It can be concluded from that amount of hatred that she was allowed privileges and more power than was allowed for a foreign wife of a Sultan, or an imperial wife in general.
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SHE MADE THE SULTAN FALL FOR HER
"As for Yıldırım, let's say that he fell in love with the princess." - Necdet Sakaoğlu. Bu Mülkün Kadın Sultanları, pg 83
"Throughout his life he was devoted to Despina, and his brother-in-law Stephen in turn was a devoted and steadfast friend." - Herbert Gibbons. The Foundation of the Ottoman Empire
According to Chalkokondyles, when Bayazit's favorite wife, Lazareva [daughter], whom he took everywhere with him into battle, was captured and handed over to Tamerlane, he ordered that wine be served to him there, in front of her husband. The enraged Bayazit told Tamerlane that what he was doing was not worthy of his father and mother. - Две српске султаније : Оливера Лазаревић (1373-1444), Мара Бранковић (1418-1487), pg 107
"When the latter's wife, the daughter of Lazar, whom he loved more than any of the others, had been taken away, and Timur was taking her around in the camp with him, he made her pour his wine in front of Bayezid, her husband." - Laonikos Chalkokondyles
"He kept her close – she accompanied him everywhere - he appeared unable to part from her. She was the one person, who influenced him most and was of course blamed by the Ottoman chroniclers for the fall of Beyazid’s empire into the hands of Timur. They considered the young sultan totally captivated by her."- Anna Buxton. The European Sultanas of the Ottoman Empire
It is widely understood that throughout their marriage Despina and Bayezid shared a devoted sentiment-perhaps more on his part-despite the circumstances that brought them together. The couple had similar interests such as politics, wine, partying, European customs, conversations and according to historians found constant erotic pleasure with each other. Though all of these cited interests might just be Ottoman historians attempts to depict this woman as deceitful.
" The sexually robust woman – she satisfies all his desires- but remains a Christian." - Richard Franz Kreutel performs a service to Ottoman polemic.
It is said that for some days, Bayezid remained in Despina's chamber and completely forgot about state affairs.
Olivera (Despina Hatun) is accused by Ottoman historians of using her charms and beauty to lure Bayezid to her. This seems highly untrue as Bayezid's harem is labeled as being filled with "forbidden beauties." He could have set his sight on another with more charm and beauty, and in fact he did, but still remained devoted to Despina.
It seems they use her beauty and political influence only as a means to label her as a Femme Fatale who is cunning, power-hungry and worst even, an infidel. Yet, when we look at foreign sources about the personality of Despina Hatun, she is describe as being gentle and flowery.
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SHE WAS ALLOWED POLITICAL INFLUENCE
According to Dr. Zeljko Fajfric in his work "Srpske kraljice i princeze," released in 2007, no sultana before Olivera, who did not convert to Islam, managed to become so influential.
Yet something that is enough to critize him on is that he only puts this influence of hers to be due to her charms and beauty, yet again unintentionally labeling her as a femme fatale.
If beauty was all it took to have political influence, dozens more like her would have succeeded in that aspect, but she remains the only wife of Bayezid who had significant importance on politics.
Either Bayezid often sought after her opinion in matters of state or he took her as an advisor which might be the reason she was often with him, but no, a good scent, a soft spoken voice, long hair or enchanting glances will work, at least not for very long, even for a man prone to pleasure like Bayezi, and as we know Despina's political influence grew more with time than it decline.
A few things that are attributed to her council...
I: She helped accelerate the transfer of Prince Lazar's body back to Serbia.
II: She freed and paid ransoms for enslaved christians with the help of her brother; Stefan.
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SHE BROUGHT DEBAUCHERY TO THE OTTOMAN COURT
Despina is often blamed for having introduced wine at the Ottoman court.
This sin that Bayezid's partook in can not be credited to Despina because he was already throwing such feasting assemblies ever since his princehood. Him and Despina married in 1390, he was well too familiar with wine and pleasure prior to their marriage.
Despina, later on, might have organized such festivities for him.
" Wine and kebab assembly was established. The infidel's daughter came and toasted Ali Pasha. The lady said, see the moment." - Aşıkpaşazade.
Still it is highly unlikely that Despina, who comes from a culture where married women do not speak in the presence of men would even partake in such assemblies filled with drunk men.
What is more likely is that she organized her own wine assemblies in the harem, with the presence of other women, but the chances of her doing such a thing as drinking in the presence of men is highly unlikely.
She might have even brought wine and so called debauchery to the once "pious" court of the harem, but as for the men; who take up the majority parties in politics and war, they were already familiar with the beverage.
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merakiui · 20 days
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victorian era doctor riddle rosehearts and his darling patient suffering from hanahaki disease.
dr. rosehearts who is the finest medical practitioner in town, renowned for his expertise and intelligence in the field. so it's only fitting that, as a noble and only child hailing from a wealthy set of parents, you are given the best treatment available. riddle sees so many affluent families and so you're no different. this disease, however, is an oddity. it's very scarcely documented in old texts, and most of the information regarding it has been lost to time. supposedly, the cure to this flowery ailment remains unknown. for riddle, this is as much of a challenge as it is an inspiration. he will cure you; that's his promise as a proud doctor.
so to better monitor you and keep track of your condition, riddle suggests you be moved into his home. a temporary arrangement, of course. it's not nearly as grand as what you're used to, but it is quite spacious. it's half hospital and half home, a place in which patients come to him. for isolation purposes, if their illness is particularly dangerous, amongst other reasons. and what reason would anyone have to doubt the great dr. rosehearts?
your parents are desperate. they'll do anything if it means you'll stop coughing up petals or complaining of a throat scratched sore by persistent thorns. riddle collects samples of the petals in hopes that the town's botanist rollo flamme can identify the exact species, where it commonly grows, how to safely manage it, and so on. it's a peculiar case, one riddle has only ever spied remnants of in old notes.
you rely so heavily on dr. rosehearts, your way of life compromised. you beg him to help you, to get rid of whatever's causing this. it takes time, but rollo identifies the flower. it's a curious finding. such a flower is not native to this part of the country. in fact, there should be no reason for it to be here, for it cannot thrive in this type of environment. riddle is left puzzled. just how did such a flower find its way into your system? what is sustaining it? is it sapping your life away? so many questions arise, yet none can be answered in full.
most importantly, what does the timeline look like if death looms on the horizon? how long does he have before the worst strikes?
it has been some time and, though he knows he ought to remain impartial, dr. rosehearts has found himself infatuated with his poor patient. he tends to you like one might a rose in a garden, diligently and ever so carefully, pruning away signs of sickness in order to keep you somewhat healthy. it feels inevitable, even more so when your legs give out and, much to your horror, little branches with tiny leaves begin to poke through your ankles.
so now you're placed in a wheelchair, and that is that. most days he thinks you're more doll than human, especially since your spirits seem far more dampened than they once were. you wither in your chair, quiet and wistful, longing for good health. though it's in his profession to save, he's never seen you in a more beautiful state. like a statue doomed to exist in stiff silence. like a single flower struggling to brave harsh conditions. like a doll destined to be taken care of by his gentle, capable hands.
he was never allowed dolls as a child. such toys were distracting according to his mother. but now he has one for himself and, even if he thinks himself too old to play with dolls, you're one he just can't put down.
perhaps it's for the best that your legs are broken and your lungs are weak and your entire body is supported by this parasitic plant. with this, he's given the chance to finally indulge in one of the many things he was denied as a child.
the appeal of a doll is that they are versatile. they can wear an entire wardrobe of clothes. they can be bent into various positions. they can look upon you with glass eyes and smile with rosebud lips. and they can't speak. never speak!
riddle doesn't need to be traditional for something so unethical. weddings and rings and courtship mean everything in his dreams, but he is a man watered with logic and sensibility. and you are just a quiet, fragile rose drowning in unwanted, suffocating affection.
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shrewdoodle · 4 days
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This did surprisingly well on Twitter. Here’s some doodles. (also much higher resolution than the version posted to twitter)
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creepa-b0t-inc · 10 months
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Also making a collection of secret bosses. Why? Because I felt like it.
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Let me know who I'm missing, and if possible, getting sprites would be nice so I can add them to the chart!
I'll try to add credits here, let me know what I should add/fix
Jevil/Spamton by Toby Fox
Snow-E by Lemonemy
Gospell design by Scratch Lunin
Blookette by Evil Nya Nya [@SmoochaGhost2 on twitter]
Sunsette & Cressette by Snokie
Wicker/Varminter/Gatsby/Jack/Helios/Nova (But Cooler) by Astromity
Will-fye by Spoon-Breaker
Collage/Stanley P. Scribbleton/Greas-E/Buzzkill/Dr. Pox by IndieMedley
Rublaad by imaginary-regret-608
Banner/Vangel/Haxter by Shaz0s
Halojack/Beltrowel/Gauze by Huecycles
Flowery/Descora & Belle/Atlas by Anne/Bepceleste
Host by Ne0nwithazero
Brandal/Screepto/Fakeris by LocalH00ligan
Radiola by Modtro64
Timber/Starlet/Screamo/Camellia/Wilter/Hycrisik/Mantle Keeper/Hex by R. V. Pine
Sleek by Axniety
Nova by Marnielovesyou
Skuntle Bingoid by ImpactWinter
Tenna by tvlandofficial
RErunner/Lustrelocks/Astrochew by HogRidah
Jukdyne/Dooblod/Terry Crow by RoxRox
Gygar by Rocco
Mederial by PomPom
Nonbinary Secret Boss by Furkrum (I thought it was funny)
Stern by JustTheMoonz
Rachel by R. T. Oak
The Neighbor/Mizpelt/Eve/Gilmore/Kass Sheere/Antoinette/Rock-E/Herifix/Honeur Able/Bellamy/Teel da Eel/Subject_17 by Creepa-Bot Inc.
Dirk/Serif by Emihead
Memme by DELTARUNE Chapters
Glonk by 4chan
Emeraldo by Parkerino69
Micheal Sperour/Shuebert/Min-E by l1zardart1stre
Woostern/BONSLICK THE WICKED/Sonatta/Shikari/Quiddo/Left-E by Mercair
Petaly by Jas
Deadeye by CondorCrest
Vee Sal by Sandshrewdoodle
Verre Trempe by Checherex
Rosey the Rose/Nightmar-E/Orbead by GoYourOwnWay196
Mad Hatter by Scare
Cabelle/Blanca-chan/Hero by Booripley
??? Robot by Deltaconduit
Memodia by Sunhatgirl
Veehenchezz/Olliever by Bonkers B Bonkers
Yogbert by danimodder
Floe/Clawhauz/Vessel by MrkySpices
Ike by TheC0MICguy
Mike by Pep
Mike by Vulpes Borealis
Lucidia by The​Yoter​Man
Immortal Hydrangea/Lillian/Bonibon by Wandering Makers
Sockswald by TheWinterer
Solis by Marineflames
Dillon by jjaym15
Brianna Friz by TheMilkMan
Slush-E by 4444pi
Chancellor by Marmarbles
Minerva by Sylladexter
Seraphim/Laughing Vapor by Weaponizedalibi
Gerden by Right-brain-left-brain
Trinky by Marbles!!
Helel by ZET
Getty Wellson/Davilone by Yinky Tunes
Peris by PetahPetah
Graves by hazard100
Patient Zero by Nermike
Roulette by Dollyglot
Inka by Pixelator
Spree Blitz by Ornstein
Creengle Snap by Kael Salesman
Cehll by A Lego.
Meucci/Roundhouse/Rosaline/Candrell/Coda by Wilkus Milkus
Wormwood by Freedom Co.
Lux Aeterna/Hearty by Spamemailguy
Rumi/Sergoyle by Frosty
Wanky Jo/Nyyrk by Change_it
Hymnis/Knockpad by Bog
S. Lacker by TzarLicken
Tapes by Broom
Horse by ExistingKirb
Pup-C by Scare
Ornamiel/Chrysette/Bandit Aster/Kaerel/Moquiere/Baker & Ratty by Isastuff
Howdy by S.A.
The Great Bazow by Lettuce_turtle
Moonslammer by Vindicator
Monitoon/Mixel by Toosday
Senstar by Mr. Luwigi
Foe by Bryleethebig
Goldie by DeltaVelvet
Satinelle by Octobox
Remild by Espeon
Rainie by Left-Brain-Right-Brain
Rael by Direct to Darkness
Roti by Followerex
Candy/Pastrot by ColorWorld
Dr. Etal by Uevos
Edd-E & Snatchy/Princheque by Rejona
Harlamour by Rosaic
Fleur/Ice-E by Red
Railey/Vantablack by Glitch-the-artist
The Hopless by Cyphis6
Tee-V by Filipnofishstickfailure
Alvaos/Soupa by Bryan the Celestial
Lumia/Curly Bracket by Kate Bun
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manicpixiedreamcurl · 2 years
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Headcanon: Eddie likes making smart girls dumb
Word Count: ~2,620
Warnings: 18+ only. Minors dni. Dumbification kink (yup!), rough oral sex (m receiving), face slapping, degrading language throughout, reader is worry on legs and eddie lives to turn her brain off essentially. Reader says something mean but she's stressed and she APOLOGISES AND MEANS IT.
A/N: “Hey, Jo, don’t you have like five different proper wips that aren’t just these needlessly long headcanons your brain comes up with when you should be sleeping?” “Yup! Now read the needlessly long headcanon.”
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“Maybe just a little break would do you some good, sweetheart?”
You shake your head, remaining as you are, hunched over your desk. Evidence of how you’ve spent the afternoon is spread across the table. Various empty coffee cups, your bright desk lamp, stacked textbooks, a colour coded periodic table, your lilac notepad that was new last week, now open a quarter of the way through, covered in black notes and pink highlighter lines.
Eddie arrived twenty minutes ago, uninvited, having not spoken to you properly in three days.
Since you were asked by a desperate Ms Loudon to tutor him in History at the beginning of the year, Eddie has improved in every subject he takes. You didn’t just sit with him and run through major events, didn’t just read his essays half bored to give him meaningless feedback. You taught him how to help himself. Finally, Eddie has the knack, the knowledge on how to motivate himself to just sit down and study. 
It was a strange, sick relief to realise with finality that he wasn’t stupid like people thought. No, Eddie’s capable, smart even. But smart only goes so far when you can’t sit at your desk without finding yourself seeking out a joint, or a guitar, or a porn mag. These days, he gets Cs more often than he gets Ds or Fs on tests. More Bs on essays than any other grade. The first A he’s had since the eighth grade came, red and circled, in Art last week. An essay on Jean-Michel Basquiat with multiple scribbles reading “good point!”
Turns out, setting a schedule that works for him, taking breaks every hour for a Dr Pepper or a crunchy snack, sitting with you in the library so you can talk each other through your notes, works for him. 
So yeah, he knows your way works better than his ever did, ever will. But shit, it’s a Saturday night, and the test isn’t till Tuesday. Chemistry’s a bitch, sure, but Jeff’s your lab partner and Eddie’s heard that you can draw structural formulas with the same ease as writing your name. Or drawing a love heart on his hand, the way you like to do sometimes.
He’s so grateful for you. Not just that he credits you as the reason he’s assured to graduate this year, but that, since he kissed you for the first time, leaning over a library table to hold your busy head in his hands, you’ve opened yourself up to him so sweet it makes his heart sore. You taught him so much, sharing your seemingly endless smarts, and you’ve let him teach you in return. How to play a power chord, roll a joint, let a boy like Eddie lay you down and master your body till you’re a writhing, crying mess with an empty head.
So now, watching you rub your sore eyes, stretch your sore back, crack your sore neck. Yeah, he wants to do something about it. 
“I just think maybe you’re overexerting yourself this time,” he says from your pretty, flowery bed, shoes left at the door the way your Mom insists on, the rule held fast even when she’s out. 
You feel your shoulders tense, frustration running up the back of your neck to clench your jaw. Why is Eddie even here? You didn’t invite him. Didn’t ask him to come sit a judge, share his unsolicited opinions on the way you work. 
“You can think that, but I need to have these notes on carboxylic acid memorised tonight so I can focus on oxidising and reducing agents tomorrow. That gives me the right amount of time to study reversible reactions on Monday night.” You look at him with a tight smile, hoping you’ve explained yourself enough that he’ll leave it, now. “I have a plan, Eddie.”
“You always do,” Eddie grins, his bright eyes not working their usual magic. You look back to your book and sigh, frustrated that you’re using brain power trying to work out how to ask him to leave when you should be focused on reduction reactions. “But, I mean, how long will it really take you to learn what you need about, um, oxidising stuff, tomorrow? Don’t you think you could get back to the acids then, too?”
“Why should I?”
“Cause it’s a Saturday night. You’re exhausted. And deep down you want to watch Children of the Corn with me and cuddle.”
Your heart tweaks inside its ice cage, and you hate him a little then for trying to tempt you away. “Of course I want to relax, Eddie. That’s not the point.”
Eddie smooths his hands across his knees. “Well, what is the point? ‘Cause I really think you’d be better off taking some time away from all the books.”
The graphite at the end of your pencil snaps to leave wood chips, the final push that has you twisting in your seat and yelling. “You’re really not the right person to be doling out advice on studying, Eddie! The fact that you think wanting to relax means you should is the reason you’ve been a high school senior for three years straight!”
Eddie’s kind face goes hard. Your throat tightens with regret.
"I didn't mean that." 
"No?" He asks, smacking his hands to his knees as he stands. Your heart fights its way from the ice, pounding and hot with worry. He’s moving to your door when you rush to him, grabbing his arms to hold him there.
"I'm sorry," you say, eyes watering, overwhelmed. Your brain is fit to burst, thoughts running wild. Eddie’s going to break up with you now, for being mean. Eddie’s going to break up with you and never speak to you or kiss you or touch you or smile at you ever again. "I'm so sorry, Eddie."
"I dunno. That was, uh, kinda mean, you know? Sounded like you think I'm dumb or something." 
Your head shakes rapidly. "I don't think that. I know you're not dumb, Eddie. Please, I'm sorry-" 
"You're sorry?" 
"Yes. Yes, I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that." 
"You gonna apologise to me properly?"
You stare at him. 
There it is, behind the cold stare. He’s got what he wanted. There’s no way you’re going back to that desk now. Even in the low light of your table lamp, you can see the mischief, the satisfaction and anticipation. Eddie isn't angry, not in the slightest.
"Eddie-" 
"You just told me you don't even know why you insulted me. That’s kinda stupid of you, ya know? Sounds to me like maybe, between the two of us, you might be dumb one. So maybe instead of arguing with me, you should stop pretending to know better and just let me be in charge, ‘kay?" 
Your fingers flex on his arms, one kind of nervous tension leaving your body even as another creeps up. Eddie blinks slowly, like he’s waiting. When you don’t say anything, unclear on what he wants you to say, he sighs, takes his arms from your hold to grasp you. One hand, wide and strong, finds the back of your head, directing your gaze to his. The other presses against your throat, the contrast of warm fingers and cold rings sending shivers through you.
“Are you going to let me be in charge tonight, dummy? Do what I tell you, and nothing else?”
Your head would loll if it wasn’t for his grip, and you wonder if he knew that already. “Mm. Tell me what to do, Eddie.”
Eddie grins, hums, presses a quick kiss to your lips. He murmurs into the skin of your cheek. “Let’s start with you on your knees, ‘kay?”
You breathe a soft, affirmative noise as he pushes you down, down till your knees are pressed to the soft rug in the middle of the room. Distantly, you realise that Eddie stood right here on purpose. Knew you’d end up just like this while you were still in a tizzy at the thought of him leaving. The thought is gone in an instant with Eddie’s thumb digging into the back of your mouth, circling your tongue to gather drool. The other hand goes for his belt, the rough tug and the clinking sound making your clit ache. You watch, mouth open and pleading, while he unzips his pants enough to pull himself from his boxers. Eddie fists his pink cock with tight fingers, the spit he took from your mouth aiding a smooth glide. 
It’s torture. You can smell him, the musk of Eddie’s cock, the lingering smell of his tea tree shampoo that he rubs through the thick, dark hair as the base when he showers. The pretty pink head is dripping white pre, more and more forced out each time his foreskin closes over the tip. 
“Eddie,” you whisper, looking up at him to find his gaze focused on your desperate face already. “Please.”
“I’ve got a choice for you, dummy,” he says, hips jerking at the thought of what he’s about to offer you. “If that empty head of yours can manage it.” Eddie pulls his foreskin back, exposing the white cum collected there, and smooths it away with two fingers. “Open.” 
You practically unlock your jaw, tongue exposed so he knows how much you want this. Eddie smirks, fingers finding your mouth. He presses the pads to the taste buds at the very back then drags them forward, covering your tongue in the masculine, salty taste of his cum. Your mouth waters, swallowing it down the second you can and following his fingers with your mouth, managing a little kiss to them before his hand is flat on your cheek. The sharp smack makes you squirm, eyes darting from his amused gaze to his cock. 
“Good?”
“So good,” you nod, eyeing his tip, hoping for more. 
“Hm. Here’s the choice then. My cum in your mouth,” Eddie widens his stance, bringing his cock perfectly level with your wet lips. “Or breathing.”
You groan, mouth opening wide again, knees shuffling desperately. It’s answer enough. Eddie laughs, grasps his cock at the base, and slides home. 
“Shit,” he says, holding your head at either side. Your chin finds his heavy balls, throat long since used to taking Eddie all the way. The stretch, the plugging of your throat, is blissful. Nothing else is important now. Not tests or studying or broken pencils. It’s not your place to worry about that anymore, not your place to worry about anything. You just need to keep your mouth open and let Eddie enjoy your throat. His head rolls, long hair reaching down his back. Eddie groans through his teeth and returns his gaze to you. He finds your eyes red-rimmed and watery. “Shit, shit, shit.”
He keeps you there longer than you're used to, until the stunted breaths you can only take through your nose like this stop being just enough. You jerk, hands moving from your thighs to his, instinct forcing you to bat at him through denim. Your lungs protest enough that you gag, forcing him from your throat and back to your mouth. You take a desperate, gasping breath as Eddie’s cock leaves your warmth.
Another slap, quick and harsh. “You made your choice, dummy,” Eddie says over the sound of your returning breath. He clasps his base again, driving back down your throat but granting you the blessing of thrusting, giving you half seconds to breathe around his dick when the tip finds your tongue again. 
Then he holds his hips still, hands covering your ears and bobbing your head like you’re a toy, made to move along his cock as he desires. The movement makes you dizzy, like your brain is knocking around your skull. “Fucking perfect like this,” he says. “Doing what you’re supposed to be doing, just taking my cock like a silly slut-”
Your nose meets the wiry hairs at the base of him with each aggressive push of your head, your eyes rolling back at the smell of him and the throb of his thick, perfect cock in your gullet. Everything now is just smell and taste and feeling. Nothing to think about, question or consider. 
You want to rub your cunt desperately, but your own body wouldn’t allow it unless Eddie were to suggest shoving your fingers in your panties. Instead, you ache between your legs and keep your jaw wide for him. Your cheek throbs suddenly with another slap, no longer a punishment, but just because the way you take a little violence makes Eddie’s cock twitch happily. 
“Who's fucking dumb, baby?” He asks, forcing himself down your throat again, waiting until you’re twitching and writhing. Below him, on your knees where you should be. “Who’s fucking dumb? Me or the slut who chose the taste of my dick over breathing?” He slaps your right cheek, crosses his hand over to slap the left. Your face tingles pleasantly. “Fucking-” Eddie presses forward, cock going no deeper, but just squishing his swollen balls against your chin. “Answer me, you stupid slut.”
You try. You try because Eddie told you to, but he’s blocking any sound that could hope to escape. The vibrations of your attempt at me, I’m dumb, travel up his cock and he groans. “‘M gonna cum,” Eddie pulls away, listens to the desperate gasp and the release of built up spit over his cock. He thrusts again, taking and giving you back his cock in quick succession, saliva dripping down his balls and covering your chin. “Gonna cum in your fucking mouth. All it’s good for. ‘S not for speaking, fucking talking back and insulting me, ’s just for sucking my fucking dick- shit!”
Eddie rests the head of his cock on your tongue, using the waves of drool you’ve given him to jerk his cock into your mouth. You moan happily the whole time, tongue finally able to do its job of licking at Eddie’s salty, smooth head for his pleasure. His cock twitches, throbs, and Eddie covers your tongue with ropes of his thick cum. You hold it, even when he takes his softening cock from between your lips. You open them to display it, a white pool in your pink mouth. Eddie huffs a laugh. 
“You’re not impressing anyone with that. Just swallow it, dummy.”
Eddie’s cum flows, thick and wet, down your throat. The final slap turns your face to the side with its impact, leaves your cheek almost numb, You press your face back into Eddie’s hand, body knowing it’s always his touch that you need more of, even if it hurts. You sigh blissfully, feeling good, used, and empty. 
“Come here, dummy,” Eddie says softly, throwing himself back on your bed and opening his arms with wiggling fingers. You climb into his arms without a thought, pressing your whole face to his sweaty neck. You lick a little, wanting another hit of the tastes his body provides. Eddie rubs a thumb over your aching cheek. “Feeling good?”
“Mmm.” Your clit is still crying for attention, your cunt has been leaking and ready for him since he pushed you to your knees. A faraway thought assures you that Eddie will get to that, once he’s eased you out of the headspace of degraded dummy back to his pretty, sweet girl who gets kisses between her legs for being so good and smart.
“This brain of yours, baby.” Eddie strokes your hair and kisses your temple. “You gotta learn to turn it off sometimes, you know?”
“Don’t need to learn anything.” You shift and squirm in your cuddle to find more of Eddie’s skin. “You do it for me.”
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Everlark (Mockingjay, Ch. 25-27)
peeta also being in the burn unit bc he was in the city circle
what i personally believe is that he's the one who tried to put out the fire that overwhelmed katniss, hence his own burnt hands and forehead
her using peeta's coping mechanism of pain to stay grounded in reality
when katniss talks about all the people she trusts being said, she highlights that there is peeta but he wouldn't know any more than her about 13's plans.
"we are both fire mutts now" - still a (broken) team
"those same blues" mentioned again
haymitch understanding katniss. the dad that stepped up. i love that he says "i'm with the mockingjay" instead of "yes"
katniss being our fave feral girl by literally biting into peeta's hand as he stops her from taking her nightlock
the fact that when she says "let me go", our baker boy with the beautiful words and the charm can only say "i can't"
just another instance where these can't let each other go. has anyone made a counter for these instances?
peeta is well and truly back. to do that. to know he can't let her go. that even when she bites him so hard he bleeds, he just looks into her eyes and lets her know he can't let her die
the fact that after the way katniss was used in the games and then in the rebellion, afterwards when she's damaged and broken and bruised and they have no more use for her, she's just sent off to 12
"there's no obstacle now to taking my life. but i seem to be waiting for something" - the same way peeta kept his hand open with the nightlock pill waiting for katniss to curl over his hand for him, katniss waits for peeta's permission to die
i love that she doesn't even mention peeta by name when she sees he's returned. we just know instinctively that he's the "him" that's back.
peeta says dr aurelius wouldn't let him leave the capitol til the day before which makes me think peeta had really been trying to be discharged to get back to katniss.
"his eyes have lost that clouded, tortured look"
katniss who understandably has fallen into physical disrepair over the last two chapters now feels "defensive" as peeta looks at her, frowning, and tries to push her hair out of her eyes somewhat. her relationship is SO different to the one she has with everyone else. and that's because it's really the only one where she's concerned with romance and her looks etc
peeta digging up and bringing her primrose. the boy with the bread is still here bringing gifts that can't have a price put on them. he is the sweetest most beautiful fictional boy
katniss is relieved that gale is in 2, far away. that era of her life is over, that friendship is over.
although she's still confusing right to end. why are you thinking about gale's lips kissing other lips. i think it's just like her finding closure but still.
katniss falling asleep on the sofa but waking up in her bed. we can guess who got her there
it's only after peeta comes back that katniss starts to hunt, find closure, grieve with others.
peeta bringing her a warm loaf of bread again.
them taking the family plant book and creating a new book to honour and remember the dead. her, peeta and haymitch creating their own makeshift family book. so tragic so beautiful
"peeta and i grow back together" - like it was inevitable.
But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. So after, when he whispers, “You love me. Real or not real?” I tell him, “Real.”
i love how simple and matter of fact this whole passage is. she doesn't need to go into flowery descriptions or explanations. she's already done that for three books.
i just love this whole passage so much. so much hope. so much love. after all that's happened, katniss learns to live again, to hope again, to love again, to see goodness again. and peeta is a key to her achieving that. and it's so beautiful
as an adult, i now know that this scene is alluding to their first time having sex. the mentions of his arms that build to his lips that build to her hunger from the beach that night. "so after" is after that night, that moment in their relationship where things become elevated in a new way.
him whispering that is not him asking her to declare it or say it. he's asking her to confirm what he feels, has felt. that she loves him. and she knows now her answer forever. real.
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jjasen · 1 year
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have you ever been in love?
summary: confessions at Midsummer’s with JJ
warnings: alcohol, cursing, angst aplenty 
a/n: for context, reader is Kiara’s childhood best friend and hangs out with the Pogues, and is also family friends of the Camerons ❀ 
word count: 2.9k
You and Kiara made your way across the neatly manicured lawn of the country club towards the Heywards, who were setting up the grill, arms linked as you tried not to stumble in your heels or trip over the hems of your dresses. Kie disentangled herself from your arm in order to approach Pope as she called out in an absolutely atrocious British accent, “Excuse me sir, but are we supposed to shuck these ourselves?” 
Pope spun around, ready to chew out another entitled kook, but relaxed when he saw it was the two of you. He nodded at you, then addressed Kie, “That accent was really bad,” he laughed. She made a face and scrunched her nose at him. 
“Looks good, Pope,” you smiled at him. “What are you making?” 
“Oysters,” he replied. You wrinkled your nose, and seeing your expression, he offered, “You know, oysters are supposed to be natural aphrodisiacs.”
“You’re not really selling it well, Pope,” said Kie, rolling her eyes and adjusting her purple flower crown. 
“Oh, shut up,” he said, “Anyways, I thought the two of you weren’t coming to this Midsummer’s shit.”
“Kie’s mom made her go, so she forced me come to ‘suffer in the oppressive horde of elitists’ with her,” you explained, turning your head as you heard somebody call out your name. Sarah waved at you from the porch and beckoned you to come over.
“Little miss Kook princess is summoning your presence,” Kiara grumbled. Pope snorted, glanced at you, and unsuccessfully tried to play it off as a cough. 
“Kie, you know I’m not getting in between whatever happened with...that,” you said patiently, rolling the shell pendant of your necklace between your fingers. She rolled her eyes but waved her hand at you and smiled gently, signaling you to see what Sarah wanted. You trekked back across the lawn and smiled as you approached the vivacious blonde.
“Babes, you made it!” Sarah cheered, looping her arms around your neck and pulling you in. You could smell her flowery jasmine perfume, and her wavy blonde hair tickled your nose.
“Yeah, I did! Sorry I missed your entrance, though, Kie and I were running late. You came with Topper, right?” You asked, glancing at her aforementioned boyfriend, who was sulkily nursing a crystal tumbler full of amber liquid and glowering at everyone who approached him.
She winced. “Sore subject. Let’s go get something to drink, yeah? I’ll tell you all about it.” You followed her to the bar on the edge of the dance floor, where Sarah ordered you both glasses of lemonade with sparkling water, sprigs of edible flowers and mint adorning the glasses. 
You smiled as you sipped your drink at one of the tall bar stools. “Tastes like childhood,” you said, having drunk countless glasses of the fizzy lemon beverage at Tannyhill with Sarah. The two of you continued to chat, watching  couples, including Ward and Rose, drift in their finery and flower crowns across the dance floor. 
“I swear to god, she’s going to poke Wheezie’s eye out with that thing,” Sarah laughed as you watched Rose squeeze the youngest Cameron sibling to her side as she talked to the Dr. Thornton. She suddenly frowned and glanced over at you, fiddling with her necklace and biting her lip. 
“Do you think you’ve ever been in love?” she asked, her face solemn, her honey-brown eyes widening. 
You thought of your friends, of the Pogues, all of you laughing together at the Chateau. You thought of JJ slinging his arm around you, belting out Taylor Swift lyrics with you, a beer can in his hand, of his casual, lopsided grin when he called your name. 
“I don’t know,” you said uncertainly. “Maybe. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. I just- I just don’t think Topper gets me, y’know?” Sarah said, eyeing him and Kelce, who were downing shots and laughing on the porch. She traced a finger absentmindedly across the rim of her glass. “He’s just...so serious about everything. I don’t know, he’s getting really possessive all of a sudden, and I feel so- so suffocated, I guess.” 
You nodded and hummed in contemplation, understanding that she already felt smothered by her father’s expectations, but in the back of your mind you were still thinking about Sarah’s question. 
Had you ever been in love?
Was it love that you felt when JJ plucked a blushing pink beach rose off of the bushes that lined the boardwalk and tucked it in your hair, saying it reminded him of you? Was it love that time he taught you how to surf and applied aloe to your sunburnt back, and every muscle in your body tightened when his touch lingered a moment too long over you? Was it love when you answered his drunken 3:00 a.m. calls, and he slipped through your bedroom window just to hold you tight as he cried over his father? 
You blinked rapidly, trying to clear the thoughts of him from your mind, and turned to Sarah, who sprung up off of her stool all of a sudden. “Come on, let’s dance!” she exclaimed, grabbing your hand and dragging you onto the dance floor impatiently, her hand gripping yours tightly, and you tried not to stumble over the hem of your dress. 
“Sarah, you know I don’t dance,” you insisted, resisting her insistent tugs on your arm. 
“It’s not that hard! I’ll teach you, I promise. It won’t be the same as our Just Dance battles, I swear, I’ll go easy on you,” she wheedled. You rolled your eyes and relented, allowing her to take both of your hands and place your left hand on her shoulder, the other resting on her waist. She guided you through a basic waltz, despite the jazzy, fast-paced music that was floating through the night air, the string lights bathing everything in a warm, golden glow.
“Okay, I’m going to spin you now!” she exclaimed gleefully, twisting her arm and letting you go. Your eyes widened as you felt her hand slip from yours,  and you stumbled into Rafe instead of whirling back to Sarah. He was standing at a table alone, tumbler in hand, and he grabbed your waist with one arm, lifting his drink higher with his other hand so as not to spill it. 
“Hey, watch it!” He exclaimed gently. “You okay?” His forearm clenched around your waist to steady you as he looked down at you and set down his drink, a mixture of concern and amusement in his eyes. 
“Yeah, sorry,” you said, avoiding eye contact and tucking your hair behind your ear. You were unsure with where you stood with Rafe after his altercation with JJ and Pope at the annual summer movie night. “Sarah was trying to spin me, she was teaching me to dance, and I-” 
Rafe cut you off, waving his hand. “It’s all good,” he said absentmindedly, his eyes focused on something over your shoulder. If you had looked behind you, you would have seen JJ drawing near. “Here, show me what you got.” You glanced up at him as he caught your hand smoothly and twirled you, the skirt of your dress gently swirling out around your legs. 
“Okay, okay, pretty good!” He encouraged, looking you up and down. You laughed and let go of his hand, turning around to look around for Kie and biting your lip. 
Instead, you saw JJ approaching the dance floor, a tray of empty glasses perched with ease on one hand. He adjusted his bowtie with his other hand as he jogged down the porch steps towards you, looking dashing as ever in his server’s suit despite the purple bruise shadowing his jawline. You furrowed your brow, sure that you’d asked him yesterday if he was serving at Midsummer’s today, and that he had replied that he wasn’t.
JJ strode past you and lightly brushed your waist as he slipped behind you to hand a note to Sarah, and a shiver rushed down your spine at the brief contact. He glanced at you, at your dress, his gaze hardening as he saw Rafe standing behind you.
“JJ!” you greeted him, “I didn’t know you were serving tonight.” 
“Yeah, well, I didn’t know you were here with him,” he said, jutting his chin at Rafe, “so I guess we’re even.” 
“What? No, I’m not-” you faltered, but he turned around to go back inside. 
“While you’re at it, get me a Mai Tai, huh, buddy?” Rafe called out. “Make it two!” Kelce jeered, making his way over to you. 
“Rafe, please stop,” you said coldly, sending him a scathing look as you tried to follow JJ up the steps, where Kiara’s mother grabbed your wrist.
“Mrs. Carerra!” you exclaimed, startled, straining to to see if JJ was okay.  Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Rafe, Kelce, Logan, and Noah follow him into the club. Your stomach sank with dread. Not again, you thought, please, don’t hurt him.
“Honey, just let him go,” she said, with sympathy in her eyes. “Boys like them, they’re not worth it.” 
You jerked back, unexpectedly stung at her words. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Carrera, but I really have to go,” you said, looking for JJ desperately through the club’s windows. “He’s worth it to me.”
Striding in purposefully, heels clicking on the floor, you ran through room after room of the country club in search of the blond pogue. “JJ?” you called out, hearing nothing but the distant music and chatter of the people outside in response. You made your way back outside, disheartened, hoping to find Pope and Kie to help you find JJ. 
You hurried across the wraparound porch, looking for a glimpse of Kiara’s lavender dress or a flash of brown curly hair as you rushed down the steps. 
“Look- look, man, I can walk myself, I got legs,” you heard. JJ. Wide-eyed with disbelief, you watched as a security guard roughly manhandled JJ across the porch. Heads turned to watch the confrontation. 
“Hey, Mr. Dunleavy, I see you got your drink there, I’m actually gonna down that,” JJ rambled, “Whew!” The security guard tightened his grip on him and jerked him down the steps. “Thanks, Daryl, really appreciate the discretion,” he said sarcastically, “I actually just need to find my date and I’ll be going...oh, there she is.”
JJ turned to Daryl, spreading his arms wide and giving him a mocking salute before snagging your hand. “JJ, what are you even doing?” you whispered, taken aback. He shushed you. “Pope, Kie, Rixon’s cove! Let’s roll!” he called over his shoulder, and you could hear Mr. Heyward and the Carreras admonishing their respective children as they ran to join the two of you, whooping with delight. 
Your heart began to pound as JJ took your hand and led you through the crowd with ease. You grinned despite yourself as the two of you broke into a run across the grass, hand in hand, veering around the club to where his motorbike was parked. Pope, Kiara, and John B were right behind you, panting and laughing, as JJ grabbed the extra helmet he kept for you and held it out. 
“We’ll meet you guys there, just give us a sec,” he announced, leaving no room for discussion. You wondered what had happened with Rafe, what had been said or done, that had gotten him so worked up. Once the others had loaded into the Twinkie and left, sending the two of you curious, questioning glances, you turned to JJ, helmet in your hands. 
“Okay, what’s going on?” you asked gently, stepping towards him and setting your helmet on the seat of his bike.
“Did you come here with Rafe?” JJ asked, his voice rough and scratchy, a strange tone of urgency in his question. The way he was looking at you made you feel feverish, a flush rising to your cheeks, and you were the first to break the intense eye contact. 
“Why do you care, JJ?” 
“Because- because I just do, okay?” 
“That’s not a reason,” you frowned. You fiddled with your necklace, the grooves of the seashell familiar and soothing to your touch. It was a tiny white clam shell that JJ had pressed into your palm once at the beach, a hole already bored into it. “For you,” he had said, grinning, his blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight, “a good-luck charm.” Later that day, you had strung it onto a dainty chain and clasped it around your neck, and hadn’t removed it since. 
JJ ran his hands through his hair roughly, pacing back and forth in front of his motorbike. “Fine. You really wanna know?” he snapped. He gesticulated wildly in the direction of the dance floor. “That was supposed to be me and you out there.” He huffed. “Listen, I like you, okay? I fucking- I fucking really like you, and I hate that I feel this way. I hate that I let myself think that I could ever deserve you. Shit, I’m falling in love, and I don’t know how to stop.” 
He rubbed his hands over his face and glanced at you, his gaze softening.
“We- we can pretend this never happened, I swear- shit, this wasn’t supposed to happen. I’ll get over you, I promise, just please- please don’t leave me,” he said desperately, his voice breaking and his blue eyes shining with unshed tears, begging you to respond with something, anything.
Something in your chest broke at the thought of JJ believing you could ever be capable of abandoning him. “JJ,” you whispered. You wanted, in that instance, to touch him more than ever, to pull him close to you. To hold him tight and never let him go.
“Listen, just tell me nothing is going to come out of this so that I can stop hoping, ok? I just- just please -” he rambled, before you reached for his face. You gazed into his clear cerulean eyes so intently you could have counted each of his eyelashes, and flickered your eyes down to his lips.
“JJ, stop,” you whispered. “I didn’t come here with Rafe. I would never do that to you.”
“What?” He blinked at you slowly, scanning your face in confusion, furrowing his brow. 
There was a blond eyelash on his cheekbone, and you brushed your finger over it, your cheeks burning, warm all over. You looked down. “I think this is the part where you’re supposed to kiss me.”
“What?” he said in disbelief. You gave him a gentle smile, and leaned in closer. You could feel the contours of his chest, feel his biceps flex as his arms hovered unsurely around your waist, the heat of his body incandescently burning through the thin silk of your dress.  
Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed a careful kiss to his cheek, light as a feather. You continued to brush your lips down towards his jaw, stopping at the sultry curve of his mouth. You could feel the pounding of JJ’s heart, his pulse quickening at your touch and his breaths shallow. Pulling away, you looked into his blue eyes questioningly. Was that ok? Did you like that as much as I did? You tried to communicate through your gaze.
“Oh,” JJ mumbled. “Oh.” 
Leaning down, with that casual crooked grin of his, he brought his hand up to cup the bare skin of your neck, the other now firmly pressed into the small of your back, drawing you into the delicious heat of his body. Before you could blink, his lips were crashing down on yours and your hands were tangled into his hair and his hand was tracing your jaw, blissfully hot and feverish and oh, so this is love. This is what love feels like. 
Breathless, you moved to gasp for air as JJ continued to lean into you, wanting more, nestling into your neck and trailing hot sloppy kisses down your collarbones. “I thought,” he murmured between kisses, “that I’d never get to do this with you.” He pulled away to look at you, his expression soft, vulnerable, blue irises gleaming beneath half-closed eyelids, the crescent shape of his mouth curving gently. You felt giddily intoxicated with his proximity, as if the edges of your body had melted into him, and you pressed him closer to you. 
JJ cleared his throat and let out a low laugh. “We should, uh- we should probably head over to the cove,” he whispered, his breath heady and hot against your cheek. You nodded, reluctant to let him out of your embrace as he tenderly put on your helmet and clasped it beneath your chin. You straddled the bike behind JJ, and he glanced back at you, as if to check that you were really there, that this was real, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. You smiled at him widely and pecked his cheek in reassurance.
And then you were flying through the air, cheek pressed against JJ’s neck as the wind whipped through your hair, your arms wrapped around his waist. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen flex as he leaned forward, accelerating, and you thought, yes, yes, I have been in love. I am in love. 
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myfanfic-urfantrash · 2 months
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Honkai Star Rail A/B/O: Dr.Ratio As An Alpha With An Omega
cw: omegaverse, nsfw
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Dr. Ratio treats his omega fairly well but he doesn't baby them. He'll certainly get them whatever they need though he might have a smart thing to say here and there. He doesn't mean anything bad by it, he just wants the best for his omega.
Doesn't praise his omega when they make their nest, he thinks they should know how wonderful of a job they did if they're letting him in it. He will offer up praise if they do need it though it won't be some long winded flowery paragraph about how wonderful they are and how he's so lucky to be allowed into such comfort like some alphas. He's brief, a simple "this looks comfortable" is enough.
The omegas he's interested in have to have some brains though most think they have to be on the same level as him this isn't true. He's perfectly content with having an omega that's not a scholar so long as they're willing to learn and better themselves, their honest efforts would win his heart.
Doesn't care too much what his omega smells like though something that doesn't overwhelm the senses like mint are preferred as they can be distracting. A scent like honey and tea might attract him as it's more subdued but still strong enough to catch his attention.
Before their heats he's as meticulous as usual and preps in advance to make sure they'll be well taken care of before, during, and after their heat. Gathers their usual pillows for their nest, his most recently worn clothes, and scents each item thoroughly before placing them in a neat pile just outside their usual nesting area for them to get to work without stress.
During the heat he's calculated just how many times he can get his omega off before he knots them to keep them satisfied. It seems a bit cold but he's taking in account what are the best times to give them food so they don't go hungry for long and have the strength to eat on their own. Of course he'll feed them himself if they want him to he just understands if they want to be independent while feeling miserable. He cares quite a bit he just won't admit it.
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