#i need to. sleep. or something. if i can sleep idk

[blueberrybirdsworld]

Plus one 8/9

Summary : When Lando Norris realizes he's the only F1 driver attending the Monaco F1 movie premiere without a girlfriend, he panics and convinces Oscar to help him find a last-minute plus one.

Author note : I get this story idea after the private projection of the F1 movie with all the drivers in Monaco (also can we imagine they weren't wearing their team kit and actually did dress up).

Genre : pure fluff

Serie masterlist

Main masterlist

@F1gossip

🚨BREAKING NEWS: LANDO NORRIS SPOTTED KISSING MYSTERY GIRL IN THE SEA HOURS AFTER CLAIMING MONACO POLE

Captured by late-night paparazzi, the pair were photographed walking hand-in-hand along the sand, stripping down near the shore, and kissing in the water under the moonlight.

The girl’s face remains obscured in every shot so her identy remain a mystery.

@_user1:

pole position in multiple ways 😭😭😭

@_user2:

I’m not saying I’m sick but I am emotionally unwell

@_user3:

HE'S LITERALLY LIVING IN A MOVIE

@_user4:

the girl’s face isn’t even visible and yet I know she’s pretty and smart and laughs at his jokes ugh

@-user5:

McLaren PR is probably in cardiac arrest

@_user6

okay BUT WHO IS SHE ??? WHO. IS. SHE. show yourself respectfully

@_user7

is this his girlfriend??? summer fling??? secret situationship??? I need ANSWERS

@_user8

okay but seriously… photographing them in the water while kissing? this is clearly a private moment. this feels wrong.

@_user9

if he hasn’t posted her or made it public, maybe there’s a REASON. let them have something for themselves.

@_user10

idk... it feels like we’re watching something we shouldn’t be seeing.

@_user11

he’s allowed to have a private life. just because he’s famous doesn’t mean his real, human moments should be splashed online like this.

@_user12

I love the drama but this feels icky. he’s not hiding her, he’s protecting something real. respect that.

Texts messages

Bea (PR manager):

Lando.

Lando:

Good morning :)

Bea (PR manager):

What. Are. These. Photos.

Lando:

Just a swim?

Bea (PR manager):

YOU ARE NOT WEARING CLOTHES

YOU ARE KISSING A GIRL

IN THE SEA

THE NIGHT BEFORE MONACO GP

Lando:

Technically… I’m wearing boxers.

Bea (PR manager):

This is not helping.

Bea (PR manager):

Do we need to prepare a statement??

Lando:

No.

No statement.

Just let them talk

Bea (PR manager):

Okay.

Fine.

We let it ride.

Bea (PR manager):

…but for the love of God, just wear clothes in public from now on.

Lando:

No promises :)

Oscar:

EXCUSE ME.

Oscar:

I take one night of sleep

One

Lando:

Good morning to you too.

Oscar:

YOU’RE IN THE WATER

SHIRTLESS

WITH YOUR TONGUE DOWN HER THROAT

????

Lando:

It wasn’t like that.

Oscar:

It WAS LIKE THAT.

You were BLUSHING just saying hi to her yesterday.

Lando:

We got… less awkward.

Oscar:

LESS AWKWARD???

You two went from “oops our hands brushed” to “catch me practically naked in the moonlight with my girl”

Lando:

It was the moment.

The ocean.

The dress.

Her.

Oscar:

That’s it. I’m done.

You’re in love.

Lando:

I might be.

Oscar:

Well, congrats.

But also

Zak is going to faint

and Bea is going to KILL YOU

Lando:

She already texted.

Oscar:

Of course she did.

You’re still insane

Lando:

Can you go to her and make sure she’s okay?

Oscar:

She’s fine

She woke up to the post, screamed into Lily’s pillow, and called you “so unfairly hot it should be illegal”

Lando:

She said that???

Oscar:

You didn’t hear it from me.

@F1gossip

SPOTTED: Mystery girl near McLaren garage this morning and fans have questions 👀

After last night’s viral beach photos of Lando Norris sharing a very private moment with an unidentified girl, the paddock is buzzing with one question: Is this her?

Photos taken this morning show a young woman arriving with Lily Zneimer, longtime girlfriend of Oscar Piastri, but instead of heading toward Oscar’s side of the garage, the girl was seen walking confidently into the McLaren side closest to Lando’s team.

@_user1

what’s her @. I’m not asking for hate, I’m just asking for research purposes.

@_user2

I think I found her?? her Insta might be @your_usurname 👀 she has pics at the track and with Lily.

@_user3

if that’s her… she’s GORGEOUS. like unfairly beautiful.

@_user4

wait wait wait. beach girl from last night had LONG brown hair, and this girl does too. same vibe. same posture. IT’S HER.

@_user5

everyone chill 😭 maybe she’s just a friend of Lily’s tagging along. doesn’t mean she’s dating him.

@_user6

why is she near Lando’s side if she’s Lily’s friend??? explain that. explain it with charts.

@_user7

it’s literally their life??? why are y’all zooming and stalking and guessing? if it’s real they’ll tell us. if not, move on.

@_user8

okay but imagine being her right now. accidentally going viral for existing. I’d pass out.

@your_usurname

📍 Monaco, Côte d'Azur

I dream to be here 🏁

@_user1

guys we find her

@_user2

WAIT the yellow dress. that’s literally the same one from the girl that was at the F1 movie premiere with Lando 😭😭

@_user3

wait wait wait. she was at the race. she was at the premiere. and she was walking into the McLaren garage this morning??

@_user4

SO SHE’S THE GIRL FROM THE BEACH PHOTOS 😭😭

@_user5

okay no but the outfits??? she’s unreal

@_user6

I was wondering who she was when I saw her in the hospitality tent. She’s literally stunning.

@_user7

just say you’re dating Lando and go

@_user8

the last pic is so real like yes get ready on the floor, glass in hand, chaos around you queen

@_user9

if she is with Lando… I get it. she’s kinda everything.

@_user10

as long as she makes him happy idc.

@_user11

maybe she’s just a friend of Lily??? not everything is a secret relationship 😭

@_user12

kind of fucked how fast ppl went digging tho… maybe they just want to stay private

@_user13

literally leave her alone, she didn’t tag anyone, she’s just posting vacation pics

Permanent taglist : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @lilyofthevalley-09, @esw1012, @its-me-frankie, @linneaguriii, @ezzi-ln4, @rlbmutynnek, @actuallyazriel, @sofs16, @thulior, @sltwins, @henna006, @stylesmoonlight12, @lilaissa, @sideboobrry11, @l3thal-l0lita, @lorena-mv33, @ispywlittleeye-blog, @lesliiieeeee, @sageskiesf1, @adynorris, @curlylando, @rebelliousneferut, @justcharlotte, @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies, @emneedshelp, @lando-505, @yukimaniac, @sashisuslover, @f1norris04, @hi26loveie, @bunnisplayground, @nina481, @reallifemermaidprincess, @cars-and-frogs, @delululeclerc, @txmhxllqnd, @lydia-demarek, @destinyg237, @rhaenyrasversion, @sarascabiosa, @readz4u, @tvdtw4ever, @mynameisangeloflife, @teti-menchon0604, @suns3treading, @op814kitty, @prettyboyroseberg, @willowsnook, @ariesandwolves, @clarksgf, @knivesdoingcartwheels, @pinklemonade34, @fat-meh, @tiaajosephin, @landosbabe4, @easy4, @jule239, @mercrussell, @skylandori

Let me know if you want to be add or removed from the taglist :)

[gl1tt3rk1tt3n]

I'm always so surprised when I'm tagged in tag games whhheeeeee (and y'all are getting stoned before bed answers lmfao)

Last song: Two-Faced by Linkin Park

Last movie: Nimona (gods that movie makes me cry every time it's so good 😭 )

Last book: Malice by Heather Walter!!!!!!!!!!!! It's WLW and I'm just. I love. The main character so fucking much. I need to read the 2nd one but haven't yet, but I highly recommend if you're into queer fantasy (it's a queer spin on Sleeping Beauty)

Last TV show: Princess Jellyfish/American Dad (my partner and I watch 2 episodes of something during dinner and I had to include Princess Jellyfish because it's an oldie but goodie)

Sweet, spicy, or savory: Sweet or Savory it really depends on my mood.

Relationship status: Taken by @twinkle-dragon (this counts as your tag to do this should you do desire)

Last thing I googled: Shiny Solosis line (I was going through an outbreak in Pokemon Scarlet)

Looking forward to: Spiritual Camp next week! (I've gone a few years now it's very......hippie like minus the weed because of stupid laws lol)

Current obsessions: Uhhhh idk about "current" More like reoccurring? It moves in cycles X3 The Lion King, MLP, Neopets, Pokemon, Wings of Fire

Tagging: @opal-jam @leonineskies @cosmiccodychaos @tangleoflies @sugarpubby (just tagging ya back so you can see answers x3 )

Not tagging ten cuz uhhhhhhh...I don't talk to many people and tagged friends/moots I see in my notes often I don't talk to.

tag game

tagged by @litterateur97 @gigantomachy1916 and @lightyaoigami ❣️

Rules: Tag 10 people you want to get to know better.

Last song: getaway car by ms taylor swifttttt

Last movie: wallace and gromit vengeance most fowl :)

Last book: y/n by esther yi

Last TV show: mob psycho 100 :3c

Sweet/savory/spicy: it's so hard to choose,,, but spicy i think

Relationship status: married to my wonderful spouse & dating my wonderful girlfriend :')

Last thing I googled: best way to brush cats teeth

Looking forward to: my girlfriend visiting in 10 days and my birthday at the end of next month ❣️

Current obsession(s): meronia always

No pressure tags: @dreamfilleddonuts @aaxzlyte @chupacabrafritz @tinyowl12 @queer-omens-in-the-archives @vorareromantic @vriskarlmarx @empressofthewind @mellosberetta69 @squidish @lsdoomed and @deelavis

[postmoe]

Really wanna do...

A Konosuba AU type thing with Anaxa, Phainon and Mydei.

You're a God who welcomes passing souls to a new start or whatever they want, and when you get the Blasphemer, you can't help but feel smug that you get to be the deity that proves him wrong.

He somehow still makes you feel inferior, as though he intends to make you doubt your own existence. The back and forth is getting too much for you so you explain the rules, tell him to pick something to take with him-

"Anything? Anyone?"

"Yes, yes, now hurry up! There's a long line, you know."

And when he picks you, it takes you a second to register, then another to scoff at his decision. Well, OBVIOUSLY you weren't on the table... Right?

And then idk Black Swan or some shit come down to say "man we really should update that. Bye (Y/n)~!" and you're in tears because your comfy life as a God is about to crumble with some Blasphemer who doesn't even acknowledge you exist.

They have video games in your world, you're not new to most of these concepts. Adventurer's Guilds, taverns, NPC dialogue, it just sucks you have to start from zero. Not a Gold to your name, not even a name to your name! No one knows you and it hurts.

Anaxa is having the time of his life, taking on small, two party commissions, throwing you in the way because, "Aren't you a God? Then do something divine."

You have to explain that, "My level has dropped to 1, too! I don't have any magical powers or-" and it's when he starts snickering that you realise he knows all this, you don't need to explain yourself to him, he's just the biggest bully you've ever encountered.

Cold nights sleeping in barns are terrible, you either find yourself curled against him for warmth or if you're still awake then he pushes you off. If you do wake up against him, he makes a big deal about it, "I couldn't get you off, geez, why are you so heavy?"

Eventually, you realise you're getting nowhere. Living paycheck to paycheck is hardly an adventure, and you're starting to really hate waking up with hay in your butt crack.

The only issue is that every other commission needs 3 people or more, 4 being the sweet middle ground. You come up with the brilliant idea, "Let's hire people! We can start auditioning others who want to be in bigger groups too."

It's humiliating how little response you get. The tavern owner is nice enough to let you guys hang out there, find commissions on the board and cry when things go bad. Unfortunately, this just means you have become the laughing stock of the town. Anaxa has no qualms coming back covered in slime or goblin blood, whereas you haven't needed to wash your own clothes in centuries, let alone clean your skin of viscera and other unmentionables.

Eventually, a bright and happy man walks up to you, a simple tattoo of a sun on his neck, "It's never easy, is it? I always find it hard to get outside party members. It's easier to just do things myself most times."

"You can do that?" You ask, stunned by his confession.

He looks at you like it's obvious, "Uh- yeah. The party number is just a guideline, a recommendation but no one is going to run in and stop you if you're heading towards danger. Though I do hear it can get you into legal trouble on bigger bounties and closer to the city."

You're about to smile at Anaxa that you can do the job, only to see him laughing into his shoulder, "Did you know this too?!"

He wipes a tear from his eye, "Well, it's pretty obvious. Since when have we followed the suggestion of a commission anyway?"

Like that time you went to invade a small, goblin camp from the rear, only to fall into the river and wash up right in the middle of their nest.

Or the time a hoard of slimes had overrun a farm and you were cautioned to clear them out during a sunny day, only to get the weather report wrong and end up fighting them in stormy weather. You can still taste slime extract from that.

"What are you trying to do, anyway?" The stranger asks, taking a seat across from you at the table.

Anaxa slides over the commission pamphlet, "Demon Lord's Castle. A town nearby has been getting threats from the King and wants someone to fight him off."

The man looks wary at his explanation, "Not to be rood or anything, friend, but even with four people you'd have to be pretty in tune with each other. What's your status level at now?"

You both answer at the same time, "12."

"This says at least 32... How about this, I will gather my partner and we will help you on this quest?" The kind stranger suggests.

Your eyes light up, grasping his hands in yours, "Really?! You'll do that?!"

He laughs merrily, "Of course! To be honest, we've been eyeing this commission as well, so it works in both our favours!"

Phainon is the man with the beautiful soul that offered to team up. His constantly angry-looking partner is Mydei, an undying brute who can harness strength and expel it with every hit he takes.

You soon realise that these men aren't what they seem. Phainon is a glutton for punishment, accepting every challenger offered to him and won't even hit back most times. He just laughs it off before ending the fight in one, swift slash of his sword. He's a bit ditzy when it comes to his own safety, and you have watched in horror many times as a beast will bite him or swallow him or stomp on him-

Mydei is a pretty good cook. That's... the best thing you can say about him. You've almost been eviscerated many times by his "Godslayer Be God" attack. It's terrifying to think of how strong this man is and yet how spatially unaware he can be when fighting.

And then there's your reason for this Hell, Anaxagoras. He's become more of your savior since these two have joined, and though he's not firm on martial combat, he's created a pretty cool weapon with a monster drop and a gun. He tinkers with it frequently, sitting by the fire at night while you lay next to him and try to sleep.

You suppose it's not so bad, the four of you get closer as time goes on. You prioritised your spells on healing and water magic, but since they don't seem to need as much anymore, you start branching out into buffs as well. You can't lie that your heart does a little skip when one of them saves you from imminent danger. Their protectiveness almost obsessive.

You just wished it catered to smaller monsters too, or even plant-based enemies that aim to entrap and snare without any real danger. Yeah, you see where this is going.

They may know of your status as a God, but down here, in a world where you have to start from zero, you're well beneath all of them. You need them to survive.

[dearggntlereader]

touch starved!jj x touchy reader (angst/fluff)

You can feel the sun tickling your eyelids, beckoning you to wake up and start into the day, but you keep your eyes closed. You let yourself relish in the comfort that comes with laying in a soft bed with jj covering every inch of your body. 

It’s the first time he let himself curl against you in sleep, even if it’s unknowingly.

His Hand is cupping your waist and sometimes his thumb draws a few lazy circles over the mole right next to his hand. It’s like touching you comes as easy as breathing, with the way his legs are entangled in yours and his face is pressed into your hair. 

A stark contrast to the times he flinches when you as much as touch his shoulder or even step a bit closer unexpectedly. His comfortability with touching you right now causes a warmth to bloom in your chest, and a soft smile to start growing on your face.

It’s easy to get caught in the warmth and soft touches of the moment, yet you force yourself to think about your situation. It would be unfair to lead jj along if all you can do is wait for him to give and take touch easily. Can you live your life knowing he might never want to initiate touch? Could you keep dating and loving him if he asked you to never touch him?

it's easy to say yes, to imagine a life spent dancing and swimming with him. Yet you owe it to him to truly think about that life.

As you think about the way his laugh sounds when he lets loose and throws his head back, the way his forehead creases when he thinks hard, and the way his eyes seem to shine whenever he looks at you, you think you know the answer.

You let yourself concentrate on his breathing and the way his heartbeat sounds as it syncs with yours and slowly let it sing you back to sleep.

The next time you wake, your position has barely changed with the only difference being that jj is now awake as well. You can feel his eyes scanning your face and slowly turn to meet his eyeline. 

“Good Morning, pretty girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You smile brightly and squint at him, murmuring a "Good Morning” in response, eyes still adjusting to the light and jj’s sea blue eyes. He smiles and when he does, you know that's all you need, for him to keep looking at you

I don't like this that much but yeah i think it has a certain something idk (lace divider credit: cursed-carmine)

[arbitrarykiwi]

namgyu x big boobs! reader, my dream

your wish hath been granted 😫 idk why I haven’t done somethin like this before?! as someone with a large chest I feel like I would have thought to do this… so THANK YOU BIG BRAIN ANON!!!

also I may do one with namgyu and a reader with nipple piercings because 1) mhm 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ and 2) self indulgent

Anyways!!! I hope you enjoy!!!

Warnings: 18+ , NSFW themes , smut

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆

First and foremost, I know it’s so cliche- but he’s using them as pillows. He’s always so sleep deprived and when he does sleep it’s never good sleep….but when he’s laid up against the pillowy heaven that’s your boobs?! Oh he’s fucking out like a light

His favorite is when he’s fully on top of you, practically smothering you with his weight. He can place his head directly in the middle of the doughy flesh and you always play with his hair. Thats exactly the position he wants to be in when he’s home from a stressful day of club promotion.

“And then they fucking were telling people the wrong promotion that was going on…”

“Mhmmm.” You respond, waiting for him to continue with his rant about his work, one hand cradling his head to your chest the other alternating between playing with his hair and drawing light patterns on his back.

“So it’s like, fuck, okay I guess we’re running two different promotions because who the fuck am I to take away a VIP pass that was just handed out- fuckkkk, they’re so stupid.”

His words are muffled by your breasts, his lips tickle the skin as he talks, “you’re a good person, not going off on them.” You comment, fingers running through his dark hair.

“Mmmm…” Nam-Gyu hums, a tired response, nodding his head and sinking further into your cleavage. He shakes his head, nuzzling into you even more, his breathing becoming steadier. “Keep doin’ that.”

Nam-Gyu also often sleeps under your shirt, head pressed to your breasts and hands holding your waist.

He will get off a long day of work or come back from a hang out with Thanos, just jump on top of you and put his head under your shirt to decompress.

Mf also likes biting them. Not even in a sexual way. The second he sees the extra bit of tit spill over the top of a low cut shirt he wants to sink his teeth into the soft flesh. It’s comforting to him.

You often can’t wear low cut shirts out of the house because you’re covered in bite marks

Nam-gyu also will never not take an opportunity to squeeze a handful of tit. Much like biting, it’s comforting to just hold your breasts in his hands.

Sitting on the couch next to him? One hand is around your shoulder and reaching down to grab one of your tits, massaging the doughy flesh in his hand mindlessly as he watches a movie.

“Hmmm…” you hum out, suspiciously side eyeing Nam-Gyu. You two were supposed to be watching a movie but with the way his hand is massaging one of your breasts, lavishing in the feeling of how they don’t completely fit in his hand.

Warm palm pressed over your nipple and fingers dancing lightly under your breast, it was hard to concentrate on the movie.

“What?!” Nam-Gyu groans, shrugging, “it’s comfy…” he pouts, pulling you even closer. “So warm ‘n soft…” he mutters, hand still kneading your tits like they’re dough- still fully engrossed in the movie.

You shift a bit, huffing, hoping maybe he’d get the hint and either cease his touching or touch you more, but 15 minutes pass in the movie and he just sits there the same.

“Oh my god! Nam-Gyu I’m fucking wet, are you gonna do something about it or not?!” You say shoving him playfully.

“Shit, baby! Why didn’t ya just say so, c’mere!”

Also 100% the type to motorboat you just for the fuck of it.

Like he’s passing by as you’re getting changed and he’s going to pick up some more cigarettes? He’s taking a detour to shove his head between your tits- shaking his head like a dog and groaning like that’s where he needs to be alllll the time.

Afterwards he’s helping you adjust your shirt or bra back in place as more of an excuse to feel you up.

After he’s done he’s pulling his head up and giving you a big kiss on the lips before practically skipping out the door like a kid who just got a free bag of candy.

“Wha-! Nam-Gyu!!!” You scold as he nearly knocks you over in the bathroom- shoving his face between your tits, pushing your towel off your damn body and down onto the tile floor.

He’s face first in your cleavage, your tits surrounding his head, he’s pulling you closer to him by your back and shaking his head, he’s even growling like a dog. You squeak and surprise and can’t help but bust into a fit of giggles.

“Mmmm, gonna miss these fat fuckin’ tits today….” He groans, pulling his head up to trail kisses along the top of your breasts, “…gonna miss my pretty girl.” he finishes, mumbling against your skin, taking deep breaths of your shampoo and soap.

His lips trail up your neck, sucking and biting lightly as he makes his way to your lips.

“You’re gonna be late.” You say through giggles, connecting your lips to his, hand coming to cradle the back of his head and fist a handful of his hair. You pull him back off you, “seriously ‘Gyu, you already woke up late, ya gotta get to work.”

He sighs, eyes rolling. Nam-Gyu fights against your hold, freeing his head from your grip and leaning back down.

Grabbing one breast in his hand, he’s bringing it to his mouth and wrapping his lips around your nipple, tongue lathing against it. “I’m already late…what’s being later.” He mumbles, very obviously not caring about going to work at this point. And with a mouth full of your tit, he’s beginning to guide you backwards to be bed.

On a NSFW note, tit fucking 100%. He’s addicted to it.

There’s nothing he loves more than fucking your tits and covering them in his cum over and over till you’re a sticky white mess <3

He’s the one pushing your tits together- you just have to lay pretty for him, loll that soft pink tongue out and let him fuck your pretty tits.

Sometimes he gets so into it that he’s literally having one hand on the headboard of the bed to steady himself as he gets lost in the feeling of your tits wrapped around him.

It’s been nearly an hour and Nam-Gyu hasn’t let up, leaving you a panting shaking mess as he assaults your nipples with his fingers and tongue.

Your chest is covered in spit and your nipples are raw but he seems to never be satisfied. His hand works one breast, alternating between squeezing and kneading the soft flesh and pinching your hardened nipple.

“Mm fuck…” Nam-gyu groans, pulling off of your chest with a wet, slobbery pop. “Perfect fuckin’ tits.” He practically growls, lolling out his tongue to lick a wide stripe up your nipple, eyes locked with yours.

“Gonna be a good girl n let me fuck your tits?”

You’re nodding frantically, grabbing desperately at his shoulders to pull him up and into a sloppy kiss. He’s panting into your mouth, hands gripping at your waist like he’d be losing you if he let go.

Nam-Gyu pulls away breathless shifting himself and straddling your stomach. “Hold em together for me, baby- fucking hell…” he can’t help but cut off his own words when you’re pushing your tits together before he’s even finshed his sentence. Your manicured nails (freshly done with a set he paid for) are pinching at your nipples spreading the mess of his spit around your breasts even more.

His cock visibly twitches, jumping as it stands tall and throbbing. When he presses his cock down to your chest and slides his cock in the tight space between your tits…oh he’s fucking gone.

He’s addicted to it, simply put. He can’t get enough of how it looks when his cock head pokes through the top of the swell of your breasts, smearing your sternum with globs upon globs of pre-cum- practically leaking (poor baby can’t help himself he just loves it too much). He could never get tired of the feeling of thrusting up into your mouth just slightly, your tongue rolling around the tip and cleaning him of the white sticky mess he keeps making.

“So fucking hot- ohmygod- yeah, that’s it, hold em still for me baby, mhm- fuck!” His ramblings are cut off when you enclose your lips around his tip, tongue deliberately flicking against the slit. With the feeling of your lips around his tip and your tits squeezed around his cock- he’s cumming in under 5 minutes.

“Open your mouth, pretty, tongue out- ohhhh there you go….” His thrusts speed up, becoming more erratic and jolting you on the bed. “So fucking good f’me, just letting me fuck your tits, gonna fuckin’ paint em’ white, you want that huh? Want me to make a mess all over your tits?”

When you nod, looking up at him with wide eyes, tongue sitting out, pretty and awating- he’s blowing the biggest fucking load- painting your tits, your tongue and your face with his thick cum.

I know I said that he’s finishing in under 5 minutes when he titty fucks you…but done get that twisted- he’s going multiple rounds

There was one time you genuinely had to tap out becuase you knew it would be more of a mess than either of you cared to clean up if he kept going- I’m talking layers upon layers.

One time, when he was so fucked out and needy, he pulled his cock out from between your tits and laid on top of you- licking you clean of the large amounts of his own cum off of your tits- finishing with a messy kiss he’s back straddling you and pushing your tits together.

When you asked him about it later- he completely denied he did it.

“So like….would you eat your own cum out of my pussy since you did it off my tits last we-“

“I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about. Why would I eat it if I can just fuck it back into you, hm?” Nam-gyu responds with an eyeroll, not even removing his eyes from the video game he was playing.

“Yeah okay whatever, you drillbit. Come find me when ya wanna talk business.”

Nam-Gyu immediately rips his head phones off, eyebrows furrowing, “Drillbit?! Like the fucking tool?!? Oh!- Where the fuck did that one come from?!?- business?! What do you even mean?!!”

You don’t respond, just turn back around and press your tits together with your hands, walking backwards a couple steps before turning back around and walking to your room.

But baby is obsessed with you, so he’s following you, pausing his game and bolting off the living room couch.

He also likes helping you pick out bras. Much like his biting habit, it’s not even sexual for him, he just likes being part of the decision to decorate his favorite pillows!

He keeps up with the sales too, he’s the one to let you know when the lingerie store is having deals of buy one get one or a percentage off.

He takes this job seriously, checking the reviews to make sure if other people say they’re uncomfortable. It may be cute and oh so sexy but if it had the potential to be uncomfortable?! Oh fuck no, his princess can’t get it.

All that being said, needless to say you can literally get away with anything if you just flash him or something, anything to do with your boobs.

He gets so mad when you flash him during arguments- he can’t help but to get painfully hard and lose all direction of thought.

You want him to get off the video game? Flash him.

You want him to do chores for a week? Promise to give him a titjob or let him fuck your tits and you’re golden, he’s doing it on his hands and knees and happily

Needless to say Nam-Gyu is obsessed <3

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆

Ohhhhh this one was so fun to write 😩 I hope yall enjoyed it as much as I did cause this had me going feral.

Taglist: @namsgyu @nuttybeans @namgyucat @g1rlonth3intern3t @reilapse @yuuumeee

[spikershoyo]

Daddy’s Boy | oscar piastri x mark webber | smut | minors DNI!

warnings, tags, and notes: smut, dark!!!, older man x younger man, daddy issues, tinge of angst (because I can), Oscar can be seen as babied here but he’s just sad, very much inspired by chris piastri leaving Oscar in England to focus on his family (if that ain’t a bit fucked up then idk), slight inspection of rim, dad kink, one (1) use of “who’s your daddy?” I know cringe, multiple use of “dad” in a sexual setting, crying, hope you all enjoy! <3 (also posted on my AO3 livvyvyviviw4k3)

Oscar is unsure of the time, his eyes fluttering open as his face lies against the pillows. There must be a mark over his cheek, sleeping for what felt like the whole day. 

He doesn’t bother in checking the time, feeling a familiar ache start to throb around his hips and back. If he bothered to get up and check, he’d see the soft purple bruises on his hips, the red marks that have faded into a soft burn all over his ass cheeks. 

He knows Mark is in the apartment, he can hear the faint talking of him on the phone, the clinking of the the ceramic mug where his almost lukewarm coffee gets left around, his steps around the house, idly walking through every room. 

So he’s not worried about getting caught as he starts pushing his hips against the bed, grinding like a desperate bunny. He lets out a soft sigh, half-asleep as he arches his back. 

Oscar just needed to be pressed into the mattress, get coddled and kissed and hit while getting told how good he was. 

He nuzzles closer into the pillows, mouthing over the warm fabric and pushing a bit more desperately against the mattress, whining lowly. He feels fuzzy all over, detached from his body. One hand squeezes between his chest and the bed, pressing against his aching cock. 

A soft gasp escapes his lips, hips lifting off the bed as he arches up, ass in the air like there was someone there to push back against him. 

“Fuck, please, please.” He moans softly, voice croaking with sleep as presses the tips of his fingers to the underside of his cock, caressing there gently. 

Oscar suddenly jolts when the bedroom door opens, and Mark walks in casually. At least he’s not on the phone anymore. 

He quickly notices Oscar’s stillness, focused blue eyes raking over Oscar’s covered body. He steps over to the bed, sitting by the edge. 

Oscar hums as he feels Mark’s hand rest on his back, soothing and rubbing over his spine. “Morning, love.” Oscar groans softly, eyes finally fluttering open to look up at his manager. 

The room seemed brighter, the blinds drawn back a bit more. It wasn’t too early, maybe around 10 or 11. He chases after Mark’s touch, begging for it silently. 

“What is it?” Mark muses, smiling down at his precious boy. Oscar attempts to turn over onto his back, only managing to lie on his side. Oscar blinks up at Mark, mind still catching up with his mouth. “Please, Mark.” He sighs. 

But he seemed displeased, brows furrowing. “Please, who?” The question hangs over Oscar, waiting, expectant. Oscar moves in closer, wanting Mark to pull him onto his lap and kiss him. 

“Please, dad.” He whispers, cheeks pink and hot. 

This satisfies Mark, smiling again and pulling the covers off of Oscar. He was dressed, some black boxers and what seemed to be an old Red Bull shirt that used to belong to Mark. “What can dad do for you?” Mark asks softly, hands curling around Oscar’s hips, helping him sit up and lie against his chest like a ragdoll. 

Oscar buries his face into Mark’s neck, feeling like he might fall asleep right there, inhaling the masculine cologne Mark puts on every morning. Something nautical, strong, and musky. Oscar lets him slot a thigh between his legs, Mark’s rough fingers dipping under the band of his boxers. 

“Want more.” The younger boy slurs, nose pressed under Mark’s ear. “More? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?” The words are crude and land like cold water over Oscar, being made aware of his insatiability. 

But the guilt doesn’t last long, his craving winning over everything else. “Dad, please. Want more.” Oscar moans, pushing his hips against Mark’s thigh. 

And who was Mark to deny him? 

So he undresses him, pulls the covers back completely, and has Oscar lying on his back, staring up at him with expectant eyes. 

Mark is slow, unbuckling his belt, letting Oscar drool and reach out just to swat his hands away. “Good boys wait.” His voice is gruff, but he’s being gentle with him. 

Oscar whines, throwing an elbow over his eyes, feeling need and shame spread all over his cheeks, his face hot and tender to the touch. He hears his pants drop, then the soft rustle of a shirt coming off, and soon, the bed dipping. 

And everything becomes warm again when Mark touches him, the contrast in skin tones. “On your stomach.” Mark hums, patting Oscar’s hip. And he follows, turning onto his stomach and presenting his ass up like it was on a silver platter. 

Mark’s hands grope and squeeze, and Oscar’s legs are being pulled apart. “You didn’t touch here, right, love?” Mark asks, hands spreading him apart, eyes focused on Oscar’s hole, remembering how he fucked it open until the younger boy was crying from overstimulation. 

“No, dad.” Oscar hums, letting his chest fall against the bed, face back to being pressed into the pillow. “Good boy.” Mark reaches over and ruffles Oscar’s hair, making him smile lazily, eyes fluttering open and closed at times.

Even when Mark pulls away for a moment, Oscar whines from the lack of touch, only content when he comes back, hands soothing over his skin. Mark presses a kiss low on his hip, lips traveling down to his right cheek, whispering soft praise that makes Oscar’s lips quiver. 

He uncaps the lube, pouring some over his rim and then on his fingers, slowly pushing two fingers into Oscar. 

The young Aussie gasps, his voice broken, hips bucking against it. Mark frowns and slaps his ass, making him yelp. “Don’t. I’m not in the mood for bratiness.” 

Oscar whines and nods. “Sorry, dad.” He whispers. Mark hums and kisses over the top of his spine, a soft it’s okay. Markadds another finger to help Oscar loosen up, making him arch into it. 

He can tell that he’s holding back on fucking himself on Mark’s fingers, but he’s being very good. “Let’s get you filled up,” Mark smirks, eyes set on how Oscar melts into his touch, how easy he is for him. 

There’s a beat of silence, one where Mark takes the time to drape himself over Oscar’s back, kissing over his temple, turning his head to make him look. “You okay? We can stop.” He asks, making sure he isn’t reading the situation wrong. 

Oscar’s eyes are glazed over, the flush spreading down to his chest, lips parted as he breathes heavily. He nods, assuring, smiling. “Yeah, please.” He whispers. It earns him a kiss, then another. 

When Mark nods and lets his hand drag down his back, Oscar shudders, eyes blinking slowly. He feels even more hazy as Mark intentionally ignores his flushed cock, red and leaking. But he doesn’t dare to mention it, letting Mark take the lead. 

The first push in is tender, then the feeling of soreness settles into his bones. He finds it achingly delicious, like pushing at a bruise until it hurts, and then adding more pressure on it. 

Oscar moans softly as Mark thrusts steadily, pushing against him tightly. One hand grips his left shoulder, the other firm on his hip, thrusting harshly and keeping a brutal pace. 

“Fuck, dad, please.” Oscar winces, eyes rolling into the back of his head, needing more and needing less simultaneously. “What is it?” 

“More! Please, please, more!” He sobs, head falling forward, hanging between his shoulders as sweat starts to form on his hairline, a blissed out smile on his lips. Oscar can feel his arms almost give out, Mark’s grip on his shoulder not enough to keep him up. Mark fucks into him ruthlessly, buried to the hilt in Oscar to the point that it made loud sounds of skin slapping against skin. 

“Who’s your fucking daddy? Mhm?” Mark’s words echo in Oscar’s somewhat empty brain, making something twinge painfully inside him. “I’m speaking to you.” He pushes, the hand on his hip slapping at his ass again, this time harder. 

Oscar huffs, trying to keep the same energy as Mark keeps fucking into it. He tries to hyper-focus on the pleasure, moaning softly, but he knows he has to answer Mark. “Y-you, fuck, you, dad.” He stutters, arching more into it. “Can you please touch my cock, dad?” Oscar manages to get out before a sob rips from his throat. 

And while Mark is overcome with a wave of arousal, Oscar’s dirty words making his head spin, he does feel a bit concerned at the sudden outburst. But even when he dares to slow down, Oscar shakes his head violently. “No! Keep going, please!” He gasps, a few tears running down his pink cheeks. 

“Oscar-“ “Please, dad? Want you to fuck me harder, please.” He whimpers, looking over his shoulder as best as he can, mouth open as he pants. There’s a lingering sadness in his eyes, but Mark doesn’t stop, not with that pretty face begging him not to. 

He pushes Oscar’s face into the pillows, getting more leverage. His cock throbs in his tight hole, breath stuttering as Oscar clenches. “Fuck!” He groans, Oscar’s voice muffled, tears and drool staining the fabric. 

Mark dares to reach round him and play with his hard cock, giving into all the wishes Oscar had asked of him. Another sob, this time more pleasurable, shocks itself out of Oscar’s mouth. 

Mark smiles and jerks him off. “There’s my good boy. Does that feel good? You like it when ad makes you feel good?” Oscar nods, greedily swallowing up all the praise. “Yeah, I know. Only I can make you feel like this.” 

Oscar whines, pushing back against Mark when he reaches that spongy spot that makes his mind mush. “More, more, more.” Oscar slurs, biting his lip, legs shaking a bit. 

“More? Yeah? Daddy never paid that much attention to his baby boy?” Mark rants on, knowing which bruises to press on. Oscar gulps, burying his face away. 

It hurt, yeah. It hurt like hell. But he loved it, knew there was something weird about liking it. But as long as Mark kissed him and told him he loved him, it was okay to hurt for a little while. 

Oscar sniffles, back arching as Mark passes his thumb over his sensitive tip. “That’s why you’re a bit fucked up, mhm? Like it when you get to call me dad?” Mark goes on, cock brutally thrusting into Oscar. 

When he squeezes gently around his dick, Oscar gasps and spills into Mark’s hand, eyes blurring with tears and pleasure, brain fog clouding his mind like no other. “Dad! Oh, fuck!” He whimpers, letting Mark abuse his hole until his drool is pooling on the pillow, dripping down his chin like a dirty dog. 

“Yeah, baby. Call me dad, fuck, just like that.” Mark groans as he spills into Oscar, pulling out to watch it drip out of his spasming hole. 

Mark gets off the bed, leaving Oscar limp and sniffling softly into his pillow. When he comes back, he kisses right over Oscar’s taint, cleaning him up lovingly. He soothes him gently, hands caressing over his skin, massaging where he must be sore. Oscar appreciates it, but he’s a bit too wrecked at the moment to say anything. 

He sits by his head, lifting Oscar by his hair as gently as he can, spit connecting from his chin to the pillow, eyes shedding tears silently, cheeks hot and pink. Mark coos softly, cleaning the spit from his pretty face, then pulling the boy to his chest, kissing the top of his head. 

Mark shushes his little sobs and soft sniffles. 

“Dad’s got you.”

[rowanthestrange]

idk how much the remembrance association overshadows in the UK, but poppies are also opium, right? And apparently they're also a symbol for sleep, peace and death bc sedative I guess. So that checks out. ( @rearranging-deck-chairs )

Its use as a drug is also deliberately mentioned in Interstellar:

Cora: “Hellia was the most harmless world in the sky. Then the Corporation bought the entire planet, including its population, for one reason only. To harvest the Hell Poppy.” Belinda: “Is that like... drugs?

But in that case is a different kind of opiate of the masses (which television is referred to as being, if you’re on your TV meta game).

Belinda: “PoppyHoney? I'm sorry? Your planet was invaded for honey?” Cora: “No. My planet was invaded for honey flavouring.” They took the seeds and burnt the fields so we could never grow it back.

So Poppy is:

-Something in need of remembrance. Tick. -Can be used as an opiate/drug/sedative. -Not honey itself but just flavoured like honey.

And potentially specific to the Doctor’s offspring now, and the story he’s now telling about Gallifrey: the seeds (child?) were taken, and the fields burnt (Pythia2.0) so they could never have any more children.

[happypopcornprincess]

a Kim x Kenta fanfic

Fandom : Pit Babe [S1 and S2]

Warnings: ED, mentions of emotional abuse, trauma, assault, kidnapping, canon level violence, blood.

a/n - Well I wanted more KimKenta fics on this site so I wrote one and BAM this turned into a looong fic I'll just post this part by part even idk how many parts this will be so stay tuned lmao. This is set after Pete leaves Kenta with Kim, hope y'all like it.

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Kim closed the door to his apartment, resting his forehead on the wooden door as he sighed.

The favor Pete had asked from him was simple enough; keep Kenta hidden and safe until the entire situation with Tony and his henchmen dies down. The plan made sense, he had resigned the X Hunter team, and was halfway through his process of relocating back to Korea in a few weeks.

Who in their right mind would think that Kim would be insane enough to harbor an escaped convict in his home willingly? The same man who had kidnapped him and tried to kill him in the past?

Except that he was, in fact, doing that exactly.

A voice deep, deep inside his mind was hurling curses at him for agreeing to this, but then, with everything the X Hunter family has done for him… he couldn’t say no. This was the least he could do, they had quite literally saved his life.

He contained a shudder when he saw Kenta still standing in the middle of his common room, glaring at his mantle of prizes and framed photographs menacingly.

“Ahem.” Kim cleared his throat, as Kenta shifted his glare at him. He didn’t say anything, staring at him with expressionless eyes.

“Well, I’ll get the spare room ready for you. Or you can just…” he looked at his sofa; hardwood frame with minimal cushion. He then looked at the entire 6 feet something frame of Kenta, there was no way he could sleep there properly, “…I’ll get the spare room ready.” Saying so, Kim left the room, thinking to himself that if Kenta had a good night sleep, then he would probably reconsider any prior thoughts he had of murdering Kim in his sleep.

---/---/---

Kenta walked into the ‘spare room’ of Kim’s apartment, taking the almost empty space in. A window on the other wall was open, and he made quick work to shut it and pull the blinds, just in case someone was spying on him. Spared of the giant cardboard boxes stacked in a corner, the room was a haven for someone who had spent the last year in a matchbox sized jail cell on an iron bed. A mattress was laid down in the middle of the room with a comforter and pillow.

“Hey.” Kenta turned to find Kim standing at the entrance with a water bottle and a pack of chips in his hand, “figured you were hungry.” He smiled apologetically and placed them on a box near him.

“You need anything else?” he huffed out, placing his hands on his waist, waiting for an answer.

Kim had brought him snacks without him asking, a packet of red spicy chips. Kenta wasn’t used to this. He had been handed things, and was told to make do with whatever was given. Tony gave him enough food for sustenance, it was all greens and protein rich food, and the prison food was worse, at least Tony had the decency to add a bit of spice.

“I guess that will be it.” Kim nodded to himself, “goodnight.”

It was then Kenta realized that all while he was talking to himself in his head, he had been staring unblinking at Kim, again.

Kenta braced himself for Kim to slam the door shut and curse him out, but he just went away while the door was still ajar. He blinked, puzzled at the lack of reaction, whereas if it was Tony instead, he would have been on the floor getting kicked senseless for not answering him.

---/---/---

Kenta was hungry.

He paced his room with slow, heavy steps, like he always did when he was hungry, something to distract him from his growling stomach. eyeing the door like it might open on its own. He tried to open the window, but the harsh afternoon sunlight made him more irritated. He thought of asking Kim for food, but then he wondered… would Kim think he was mooching? Maybe it would seem he was ordering Kim around his own house, or would he just glare at him like he had the first few days?

A knock cut through his thoughts. Kenta opened the door faster than he meant to, and nearly stumbled forward from the momentum.

The scent hit him first—rice and something warm, maybe broth. Then Kim appeared, leaning lazily against the doorframe, his hair a mess, eyes a little tired. “Food’s ready,” he said casually, “Come on, I’m starving.”

No sarcasm.

No side-eye.

Just… normal.

Kenta gave a curt nod, swallowing the urge to say thank you, and followed Kim to the kitchen. The aroma made his stomach tighten painfully, and the moment he sat down, he didn’t wait. He dug in. Seaweed soup, rice—it didn’t matter. It was hot and homemade, and that alone made his chest hurt in ways he didn’t like thinking about.

“You’re going to help out around the house if you’re staying, I’ll cook and you can do the dishes.” Kim said as he chewed, not even looking at him, “I’ve got to pick up some stuff from the garage tomorrow. You mind tidying up the things a bit? This whole moving and packing had screwed up my system.”

Kenta paused for half a second, but only nodded. “Sure.”

He reached for his empty bowl to get up and wash it when Kim, without looking up, scooped another ladle of rice into it.

Kenta blinked.

“I made too much,” Kim muttered, eyes on his kimchi like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “Help me finish it.”

Kenta didn’t say a word, and started eating.

---/---/---

Kim knocked on the door, arms full of groceries, keys in his teeth, exhausted to the bone.

His fingers ached. His brain was fried. But he was done. Officially out of X Hunter. The paperwork was signed. His S15 was parked in his condo garage. Everything else? Whatever. It could wait.

Kenta opened the door, and Kim’s sight met his broad shoulders adorned in the same black shirt. He looked up to meet his eyes and met the same blank expression. Kim mentally reminded himself: get him some spare clothes.

But the moment Kim stepped inside, he stopped cold.

The floors gleamed. The furniture had been rearranged to let the sunlight spill in from the balcony, lighting up the once-dim space. The kitchen sparkled. Laundry fluttered gently in the breeze outside. It smelled like detergent and clean air.

Kim’s breath caught, his jaw on the floor.

“This is…” He trailed off. His voice cracked without warning.

“It’s, okay?” Kenta said flatly, but Kim caught the smallest dip in his shoulders—something anxious hiding under the monotone.

Kim turned, and laughed, throwing his head back.

“Kenta,” he wheezed, pressing a hand to his chest, “I haven’t seen this place this clean ever.” He peeked into the spare room—boxes stacked neatly; the dust gone.

He turned back and caught the look on Kenta’s face. Not confused. Just… unsure. Like he didn’t know what to do with praise.

Kim softened. “Thank you,” he said gently. “Seriously. You didn’t have to do so much. But I’m glad you did.”

And there it was, just the faintest curve at the corner of Kenta’s mouth.

Kim saw it, and didn’t say a word.

---/---/---/---/---

Kenta was halfway through getting ready to take a shower when the bedroom door swung open without warning, and a basket of clothes landed with a loud thump on his mattress.

He blinked at it. Then at Kim, who stood smirking with all the satisfaction of someone who believed they had just done something incredibly thoughtful.

“What is this?” Kenta asked, voice low and vaguely accusatory.

“Spare clothes,” Kim said cheerfully. “I had a few lying around, figured you might need some.”

Kenta reached into the basket and pulled out the most outrageous pair of pajamas he had ever laid eyes on—bright orange with splashes of yellow and cartoon ducks smiling up at him like they knew his suffering.

He held them like they were a biohazard. “Is this a joke?”

Kim grinned. “Nope. Those are vintage. Comfy as hell.”

“I’m not wearing orange.”

“Well you can’t wear that anymore either,” Kim shot back, nodding to the corner of the room where Kenta’s entire wardrobe—two black cargo pants and a stack of identical black shirts—sat folded simmering in sadness.

“I’m fine.”

“You will have the best sleep in these!” Kim said, already moving to grab one of Kenta’s black t-shirts like it personally offended him. “This shirt is days away from falling apart. You need something comfortable to sleep well.”

“I don’t need—”

“I don’t care,” Kim interrupted, his tone still frustratingly upbeat. “You’re not walking a runway tomorrow dude. You’re sleeping. Wear the damn ducks, Kenta.”

Kenta scowled, grimacing at the bright colors of the clothes.

Kim gave him a smug smile, holding up Kenta’s worn shirt by the hem. “If I see you in this again, I’m burning it.”

He walked out before Kenta could reply, leaving the basket—and the duck-print pajamas—on the bed like some kind of cursed offering.

Kenta sat down and sorted through the clothes Kim had left him with.

Bright Red. Pink. Orange. Plain white shirt with SpongeBob on it. Neon colored t shirts, Five of them.

They looked like something a toddler would pick out at a night market.

A toddler with horrible fashion sense.

Kenta exhaled through his nose. He wanted to shove the clothes back into the basket and pretend the interaction never happened. But instead… he picked them up again, holding them gingerly between two fingers. They were… soft. Faintly smelled of detergent and something unmistakably Kim, like sunlight and green apple body spray, maybe.

He shook his head. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered.

Still, twenty minutes later, when the shower steam cleared and he stepped into his room, his old shirt felt like sandpaper against his skin. The shirt Kim gave him was lying there, daring him.

He sighed. Stared at it. Then, without admitting anything to himself, he pulled it on.

---/---/---

The next day Kim found Kenta making omelets and coffee in the kitchen, wearing his old pair of neon pink cotton pajamas, the trousers riding up his ankles as the shirt was basically a crop top on Kenta’s tall body, but he looked content.

“Looking good Kenta.”

Kenta didn’t move, didn’t look at him, but muttered, “They were on top of the pile.”

“Right,” Kim said, hiding a smirk. “Top of the pile.”

“Shut up.” Kenta gave him the kind of glare that would make lesser men run. Kim only grinned wider.

But Kenta didn’t wear black again.

And Kim didn’t throw his clothes out.

---/---/---/---/---

Part Two coming Soon Comment down to be added to the taglist.

---/---/---

More Thai BL Fanfics

My BL Masterlist

Tangled Fates: The Sign Series Fanfic A Phaya x Tharn fic about their past life as Sapuna and Wansarut.

Call It What You Want : Wandee Gooday Fanfic How Oyei and Cher found solace in each other; Pre Canon AU

[lexxxrated]

Oh my god, Elle😭😭 I don't think you understand how OBSESSED I am with your Barty!!! Could I request a NSFW alphabet for him if you haven't done one yet??🙏Thank you!!<333

sure babes! some of these are copy and pasted from old celebration asks

Barty's NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Almost annoying; constantly hovering and fussing, wants to SPOIL you. You might have to put your hand up and say “Barty, pls, I need a minute” lol 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he's a cocky bastard - I just know he'd be bragging about how hung he is/if it’s pierced. fem partner - boobs [small, big, whatever] he just loves boobies. masc partner - always grabbing/smacking their ass

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I think with his breeding kink, he loves to see his cum almost anywhere on you - though if it's not spilling out of you, it's wasted. has pictures of you dripping with it - face, stomach, back, ass, everywhere. loves to taste himself on your tongue.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

There's nothing Barty isn't down for....so maybe a 'dirty' or just 'secret' is that he sleeps with a stuffed animal still [same though]

From my rosekiller response: IDK how many "secrets" they'd have because they don't strike me as the type to feel any shame over their more depraved actions, but they've definitely fucked on Crouch Senior's grave.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Oh, he knows what he’s doing. Any technique he lacks he makes up for in enthusiasm

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

reverse cowgirl where reader is leaning forward and he gets to watch their ass bounce

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Hmmm I don’t think he’s cracking jokes during sex but he’s not exactly speaking soliloquies either

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Barty partakes in manscaping

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I think Barty talks a big game sometimes and then ends up being a total melt in bed just cooing and fussing over you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

absolutely jacks off to the most innocent pictures of his partner/crush; get's so crazy over the thought of something so innocuous [like you smiling in a polaroid] being so sexy

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

breeding kink, innocence kink, choking/gagging, blood/bruising? honestly, the list goes on and on for this dude

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Any. fucking. Where. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

His partner existing. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I have a hard time saying for Barty tbh......I think he'd be down for everything at least once! I can’t imagine him saying no to honestly anything

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Hmmmm I wanna say he prefers giving though he loves to see you on his knees for him. Barty's head is sloppy and rushed but he's enthusiastic and gets the job done.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

FAST, Jesus Christ we gotta ask him to slow down for a second; you'd think he’s part rabbit with how fast and often he goes at it. you'd have to teach him to be gentle, idk that he’d even really know how at first

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves them, can't get enough of them. thinks his cock should be inside you at all times.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Sooooo game

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I think if you give him a few moments, he’ll bounce right back up

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

omg he has soooooooooooo many toys! all different colours too because he loves the chaos. uses them on his partner alllllllll the time (just wants to make them feel goooooooooood) and also asks you to use them on him like "okay! my turn!!!!"

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

I think he likes the idea of it but I don't see him really having the amount of control/self-restraint to actually withstand either teasing or being teased - always starts games he can't finish

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s loud. Definitely a screamer, running his mouth the whole time too 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If anyone in the marauders era had a pierced dick it was him

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

responded to this here

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

this fucker is down for whenever and wherever - insatiable to the extreme

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I don’t see him falling asleep until he knows you’re taken care of, settled, and asleep yourself.

[thecomfywriter]

hi hello how are you?

it’s 2:07am and i don’t wanna sleep quite yet because im restless and pacing around. so yap time!

i feel like i rarely yap about my books unprompted (on tumblr). when it comes to the “good morning plebeian” posts, those are most often about myself vs my books.

not that i’m going to yap about them right now. lol.

or maybe i will. i don’t know yet. i’m kinda just word vomiting all my thoughts.

chemistry is lowkey stressing me out a bit because bruh… why do i even need to know about how to make an alkene from an alkyne dawg???? why????

i know why, but still. >:(

my walks have been super fun, but i wanna start biking again. but i keep having to delay it because it’a been SO hot holy shit i nearly passed out today oop-

i didnt, luckily, but that’s besides the point. the point is, i was feeling hot and dehydrated and on the cusp of being a victorian child. like helloooooo can we prove that i am worthy of my melanin??? what is this weak behaviour in heated conditions? bro i started discombobulating 💀

regardless, i have two chapters to add to cos in terms of the rewrite, and four to rewrite / edit before i order the proof copy and edit on the pages. i’m acc so hyped for it wowowow. i also really wanna work on the gotn cover but idk ive been feeling so uninspired when it comes to art recently. :/ no bueno.

okay imma yap about tis and tcal for a second. tread lightly, because there may be spoilers.

so when it came to the rewrite, i wanted to sort out the timeline of events so it was better understood for ME on when things happened and why. and can i just say…

alan is too mwah mwah RAHHHH (🤡) for me to put him through the amount of shit that i do.

ACTUALLY TOPIC CHANGE WOMP WOMP I HAVE SOMETHING ELSE I WANNA TALK ABOUT

i cant understand when people say they enjoy making their ocs suffer. the derived pleasure from their pain. i remember a point in time in my life where i did (angsty teenager core lol), but even then, it was more the thrill of watching them overcome the adversity as opposed to the pain they felt in the moment itself. it’s a big reason why i loved eoj more than anything. evan goes through OOFFF in that book, but it wasn’t the fact that he went cold that got me hyped. it was watching him thaw out again.

i don’t know. i just can’t seem to wrap my head around the idea of making my ocs go through so much pain so unnecessarily. i understand it happening as a necessary plot point, but the traumatic backstory just because has never really clicked for me. i just don’t get it. i’m trying to, but it just confuses me.

maybe i just need to hear it from the other pov tbh. because im not familiar with the idea of it. it could just be there’s a sense of intrigue in watching someone from such a rough background be so resilient as to survive. in not sure. but i’ve never understood it, and yet it seems so common in writing spaces, to hurt ocs and put them through the absolute most.

womp womp. not me yambling about something completely new.

okay, final thoughts in this post (which implies i may start a new one to continue yambling 👾👾). i like the difference in magic systems i’ve clarified between tis and tov. tbh, i found myself blurring the lines between the two worlds sometimes, but now that ive outlined some of the eras in tis, the magic system is making more sense to me, and it explains a LOT of why their world operates the way that it does.

okay! cheerios! happy writing!

[brainfullofbees]

.

[beebopboom]

something something about how they created a silly little dance - which angels are not meant to do

because Aziraphale doesn’t know how to ask for forgiveness - angels are meant to give out forgiveness not receive it

[elkkiel]

Sleeptober day 3 – Hypnotize

bro is mesmerized fr

[crystallizsch]

yuusha loungewear??? i suppose???

+ more frozen references have at ye—

also the ghosts actually made the outfit for her using ramshackle's curtains and yuusha doesn't really have the heart to get a "better" one (+ she thinks there's nothing particularly wrong with it in her opinion anyway so why bother)

[da3drat]

green knight screenshot redraw hehe. I don't want to talk about how many hours I spent making imperceptible expression tweaks trying to capture Dev Patel's big scared wet eyes.

[kaddyssammlung]

(the collection is made out of the linked twitter post. big thanks)