#Bottom row middle is beautiful tho
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miss louisiana i | c. leclerc, a. saint mleux | chase landry
poly! | fem! reader x obsessive! exes! charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux (+chase landry and f1 grid)
synopsis. your obsessive exes refuse to accept your new relationship with a man completely different from them. maybe they should move to louisiana? jk!. . . unless?
note. ok so reader is from louisiana and has cajun roots for context. chase landry is from swamp people 😭✌️ I loved that show when I was younger & I rewatched some recently and it reignited my crush on him sorry
WARNING(s); obsessive/possessive behavior, toxic/creepy exes (I make is as fluffy as I can tho trust), ooc Alex and Charles being a rich and out of touch, a spec of classism, stalking oops, (everyone Loves you)
miss.y/n📍belle river, la
liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, jacoblandry, carlossainz55, and 1,006,349 others
miss.y/n back where I belong ☀️🌷🐊🐝🐍🌿🐠
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mariene.y/l/n be safe in the water my baby 🤗
miss.y/n yes maman 🤞😊 you know I’m protected
user oop who’s protecting you miss ma’am
user omgggg how did Charles n Alex fumble so baddd 😩😩🙏 I’ve needed y/n’s cajun french baddie ass since DAY ONE 🗣️
charles_leclerc so beautiful mon ange 😍 but that water is dark and might be dangerous. ta maman a raison!
see translation | your mom is right
user stopp didn’t y/n break things off with them???
user2 currently losing it my fav throuple might be back 💪🗣️
carlossainz55 hope you’re doing well mi dulce ❤️
alexandrasaintmleux yeah no this isn’t happening
user carlos sweetie delete this comment while you still have hands <3
user SHE’S BACK IN LOUISIANA RAHH
user2 how did I not know she was from the middle of nowhere 😭 what is pierre part??
user3 how didn’t you know!!! her dad literally used to hunt alligator before he died and her mom remarried and moved back to France . Her dad was cajun
user this might be a reach but y’all think she knows anybody from swamp people? Love that show 🤣🤣
liked by miss.y/n
♤ ♤ ♤
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Alex’s leg bounced up and down nervously as her call went to voicemail for the 7th time in a row. She’d been calling your phone nonstop since hearing the news, anxious to know if it was true or not. It was always something that ate at her; her and Charles’ inability to relate to your childhood in Louisiana. They’d grown up among a higher class than you and in foreign countries. You would just giggle and wave off her concerns, insisting that even though they couldn’t understand your upbringing, that at least you could understand theirs.
“No answer.” She muttered, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. It was a habit she’d had as a child, one that you disapproved of and had trained out of her before you left them.
“She left us for a swamp man.” Charles pathetically finished Alex’s thought as they sat in his car, waiting to meet some other drivers and wags at the high-end restaurant Carlos chose.
“Don’t say it like that!” Alexandra turned her body towards the passenger window, “She didn’t leave us— not in that way! I told you she was homesick!”
Your father was a Cajun man who definitely took his culture to heart, doing a lot of hunting and fishing before he passed away suddenly when you were 12. Your mother was from France originally, and she remarried a rich Frenchman who’d ended up funding your modeling career after your success in pageantry. You moved straight to France at age 14 and found yourself in a completely different culture from how you grew up. You’d visited France before during summers with your mother, but it wasn’t home to you like Louisiana. You’d met Alexandra when the two of you were 19, and instantly bonded. Despite only really meeting briefly, it was love at first sight on Alex’s part and she supported you all the way to when you won Miss Universe after starting out Miss Louisiana.
When Charles had come along and had the same feelings that she did for you, it felt perfect, like everything had finally come together.
“With us is her home.” Charles replied, sucking his teeth.
“I can’t even—” Alex didn’t have to finish, the two had the same thought. They can’t even fathom the idea that you were with someone else.
x
Daniel was practically cackling in joy while Carlos at least tried to hide his amusement by covering his face. It was no secret that most of the f1 grid was praying for you to leave Charles/Alex so they could get a chance— but this wasn’t what they were expecting.
Bickering around the table ensued, only a few seconds before Alex was rolling her eyes with a groan and putting her face in her hands, “He doesn’t have any recent social media so I can’t even stalk him.”
“So we will just go there!”
“And what? Become swamp people?” Daniel was laughing so hard he was tearing up.
“Cha, that’s so ridiculous.” Alex mumbled.
“It is—!” Kika agreed suspiciously fast, “I just mean the split was recent, so maybe me and Pierre should visit her before you guys?” It’d only been a few months, but that had been enough to drive Charles and Alex a bit off the rails.
They’d only ever been apart from you for just over two days in the last year, up until you ghosted them. Well— it wasn’t technically ghosting when you left a note; a very brief letter in your familiar handwriting that told them you needed some space. They didn’t take it as a break up, although they did panic. Their numbers weren’t blocked, so they naturally took that as a good sign. This was probably because you wanted their attention since all their calls and messages were going through. The finality of it didn’t hit until it reached two weeks of no-contact from you and their photos were removed from your Instagram. The public noticed and so did the rest of the grid despite Alex and Charles’ now 3-month-long denial stage.
“le lieu s'appelle Pierre Part, yeah?” Pierre grinned and Charles sneered at him. (the place is called pierre part)
“They might have a point,” Daniel winced with a wide grin, “I think you’ll just look crazy if you show up. At least, one of us would just look like a friend who misses her, ya know?”
“None of you are visiting our girlfriend!” Alex frowned.
“Ex,” Carlos gently corrected into his fist with a cough before straightening up, “She jus’ is homesick maybe so give her some space and she will come back in no time.”
“I knew this would happen.” Alex slumped with her chin in her hand, “cet endroit est sa maison.” (that place is her home)
“You’ve never heard ‘if you love something, let it go’? If it’s meant to be, she’ll come back.” Daniel tried to reassure, but his face was almost a wince.
“We just wanted her close to us is all! We travel so much, we didn’t mean to take her away from her home—”
But Daniel gave them a look, knowing about their behavior with you. As in love with you as they are, Alex and Charles are intense about it. Endearing on one hand for awhile, but then the jealousy got worse and they were pretty delusional about their tendencies. He could understand it honestly— you were lovely. He imagined he’d be in the same state as Alex and Charles if you were his and you left him. Which is why he cut them so much slack, the rest of the table too.
“I don’t understand why she ran away like that!” Charles finished with a huff, running his fingers through his hair. He was starting to sweat. This felt like a cruel joke on your part— a mean way to get their attention.
“His ears are a little big.” Alex whispered, staring into her phone with a pout.
“et cela! regarde nos oreilles!” (and that! look at our ears!)
Pierre lost it at that; Charles pulling at his ears to make a point, “Maybe he’s just a nice guy, man!”
“We are nice!”
“Let me see.” Carlos walked around the table to see Alex’s phone.
She’d googled the name of your alleged new boyfriend— Chase Landry. He had starred on some Southern US reality show ‘Swamp People’; it mainly surrounded cajun alligator hunters in Louisiana. They had known you liked the show, but had never seen it themselves.
“Eh,” Carlos shrugged, “his ears aren’t that big. He is a little old for her though, no? 34?”
“Exactly! He is a pervert! I’m calling her again, actually.”
♤ ♤ ♤
♤ ♤ ♤
miss.y/n 📍pierre part, la
liked by jacoblandry, carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, danielricciardo, and 1,014,108 others
miss.y/n me and my dirty swamp man foreva 🤞💛🌷🦆
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user STOPPP SHE SAID THAT’S MY MAN N IMMA STICK BY HIMMMM
user2 stfu 😭✋ the fact that this man most likely has no idea that this is going on
user3 his brother liking her posts and filling him in
miss.y/n jokes on y’all Jacob doesn’t know what’s going on either
bellahadid beautiful lily faery and her dirty swamp bf <3
miss.y/n <3 literally
user BELLA⁉️
arthur_leclerc beautiful view of the water, ma sœur!
see translation | my sister
user THEY SENT Y/NS FAVORITE LECLERC BROTHER IN TO PLAY DAMAGE CONTROL
user2 not “my sister” 😭😭😭 leclercs let her go challenge
user y/n’s harem coming to her defense like the mighty morphin power rangers 😭😂🤣
x
this is part 1 of perhaps 3. I plan on making part 2 much longer and more writing than social media like this one, just for some balanceee
taglist; @alliwantisadonut @splaterparty0-0 @charizznorizz
Ren
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#dark! f1#f1 grid x reader#obsessive f1#charles leclerc x reader#poly f1#f1 oc#obsessive charles leclerc#ex! charles leclerc#Charles leclerc fic#carlos sainz x reader#alex saint mleux x reader#alexandra saint mleux#f1 reverse harem#swamp people x reader#chase landry x reader
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fic teaser | kim taehyung
pairing ↠ himbo!taehyung x reader (f. reader)
genre ↠ college!au; holiday!au; smut; one-shot; humor
summary ↠ after making some terrible memories together, Taehyung wants nothing more than to never see you again; and he was pretty much succeeding until — after a minor accident — he finds himself having to spend Christmas alone with you in the middle of nowhere.
rating ↠ +18
teaser warnings ↠ nothing explicit; profanity; nudity; mentions of sex; mentions of bondage; mentions of puking.
complete work warnings (full warnings on the post) ⇝ alcohol consumption; sexual tension; religious jokes; minor accident; very minor parent issues; second hand embarrassment; pov switch; explicit smut: masturbation, orgasm denial and control, edging, dirty talk, pet names, soft dom!taehyung, switch!reader, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), unprotected sex, praise kink, light spanking, a splash of degradation, begging; overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie, rough sex, aftercare.
release date ↠ released.
teaser word count ↠ 0.8k
estimated reading time ↠ 2 minutes
note ↠ so i had the idea to write a holiday!au for tae’s birthday around three weeks ago and just now finished the outline lol 🤡 i’m still working on it, but i decided to drop a little something so you can have a taste! the teaser happens a couple months before the actual fanfic, so it’s not christmas here yet lol sorry, i promise i’ll plan better the next time (i probably won’t tho).
note² ↠ wanna thank @imakeamess for the BEAUTIFUL BANNER, i know i was all over the place but you were able to create the most amazing art for me, so thank you once again🥺
note³ ↠ special thanks to @uarmymoonlight for helping me come up with the story and patiently listening to me rambling about this fic nonstop, i love you! and @vsualitae for helping me find inspiration and letting me spam his dms with this lol
note⁴ ↠ also, merry christmas for those who celebrate and happy holidays! hope you all have an amazing year ending and an even better new year🎄
if you wanna be added to the taglist just leave a comment 🥰
When Taehyung was eighteen years old, he told a slightly less experienced Jungkook that girls have a secret sweet spot on the back of their knees.
Yeah, pretty shitty, he knows, he knows— but!, in Taehyung's defense, Jungkook was too damn innocent for his own good and he obviously didn't expect that Jungkook would take a whole ass year to google it. How hard is it to differentiate a freaked out face from a fucked out face, really? It was only like, 30% his responsibility.
Clearly, though, the universe wasn't as understanding, because now Taehyung is pretty sure that he’s cursed.
Whenever he’s feeling like he’s hot shit, life finds ridiculous and absurd ways to humble him — being extra careful to guarantee Jungkook front row seats.
Fair enough. Taehyung has no problem owning his stuff, and he didn’t really believe all this karma shit anyway.
Except when it came to you.
“Shit.” Soojin curses, hands stopping in their search for her keys.
“What's wrong, babe?” Jungkook frowns.
“Can we maybe go to your place? My roommate had some work stuff to prepare and asked me to give her some space this afternoon.”
Taehyung groans “Soojin, we live on the other side of campus and I'm starving.” He punctuates this by lifting the food bags in his hands.
“But she's been super stressed lately, I don't wanna add to that.”
“We won't! We can be quiet, baby.” Jungkook reassures.
Soojin chews her bottom lip. “You sure?”
“Promise.”
Taehyung nods. “She won't even notice us.”
Soojin sighs. “Fine.”
“Also, it can be a great opportunity for Tae to finally meet her.” Jungkook turns to Taehyung. “She's painfully your type, man.”
“Don’t even think about it! My roomie is not interested in Taehyung’s fuckboy ways, Kookie, she’s a pure soul.” Soojin protests.
“Baby, that’s slutshaming. Not cool.”
“What? I'm not a fuckboy. I'm just a very good boy who likes to give people what they want, nothing wrong with that.”
Soojin rolls her eyes, then finally opens the door.
Barely they step into the apartment, though, the three of them freeze — somewhat distracted by the sight of a blond man standing in the middle of the living room, covered only by a blue underwear and a trail of purple marks on his neck and collarbone.
And damn, what a fine man that is. Taehyung had never seen such pretty pouty lips before and he can't help the sudden wish to add a couple of purples to that soft skin himself.
“What the hell?” Soojin's question prompts the man to cover his crotch with his hands. Pitty. “Who the fuck are you?”
“So, I found these old ropes in the back of my drawer, but I think they can hold—” you stop talking once you enter the living room, seeing a hell of a lot more people than when you left.
Jungkook snickers, glancing down at the rope still in your hands. “Pure soul my ass.”
When your name drops from Soojin’s mouth, something snaps in Taehyung’s mind. You see, he isn’t dumb by any means, but Taehyung sure sometimes is slow.
To be fair, he’d spent so much time trying to forget everything about you and the day you met that it’s only natural that he would take some time to recognize your face from his days I wish I hadn’t woken up archive.
But the way your fingers tighten around the knots before you hide them behind your back? Shit, how can he forget the way those fingers felt entangled in his hair that night? The way you made him groan against your neck whenever you pulled a bit too strong?
And your thighs? Fuck, they are so much prettier than he fantasized they’d be, barely covered by the oversized shirt you’re wearing. Taehyung almost has to stifle a groan because holy fuck how he wishes he could’ve seem them — felt them under his palms that night.
“Is he your work thing?” Soojin sarcastically points to the man’s general direction.
“Yeah, sorry about that, Soo, I just wanted to— Taehyung?!”
He grimaces, eyes immediately darting away from your form as he clears his throat, letting out a silent “hey.”
“You know each other?” Soojin frowns.
“We uhm… we met at—” you stutter “we met once. At a party.”
Soojin is silent for a moment, before her jaw drops “Wait— is Taehyung the puke guy?!”
The blue underwear man looks at you immediately. “Did you puke on him?”
“No! No, of course not, Jimin, it was him who— I mean, uh” so this is what humiliation tastes like? “Nevermind.”
The sudden sound of Jungkook’s laugh erupts beside Taehyung, and the boy takes his hand to his stomach as he leans forward. Taehyung is sure he’s never seen Jungkook so happy.
It takes around a minute for Jungkook’s laugh to turn into light giggling as he tries to catch his breath.
“She’s the girl you puked on? No fucking way, man.”
Well. Yeah. Karma and shit.
READ THE COMPLETE WORK HERE
note ↠ lemme know what you think 🥺
links ↠ navigation | masterlist | join my permanent taglist
#taehyung fanfic#taehyung smut#taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#taehyung fic#taehyung crack#taehyung humor#bts#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts smut#taehyung teaser#kth#kth smut#kth x reader#kth fanfic#btscarnivalnet#luawrites#fic:snow.flower#luaytc
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Thoughts on the special dolls? (Lily, giant Amaya, the color dolls, etc.)
Starting with collectors! I’m gonna skip Amaya cuz it’s the same doll scaled up, I do wish more of the girlies got 24 inch dolls though.
Jett Dawson!
Love herrrr, I love the 2D drawn look to her first set, I love her lil top bun split hair, I like the hoodie under jacket thing, her eyes don’t look that weird to me, love her fingerless gloves. I…wonder what the black on her legs is tho-
Now her dress…I’ve said before I don’t usually love flounce around the hips. But surprisingly I don’t mind it here! I also don’t hate the attached mermaid skirt. Love the drawn-on silver and black stuff.
Lily Cheng!
I love her. Love her.
Her hairstyle is so good, I love the accessories, I love her makeup and brown eyes. I love her lil fan accessory.
I like every version of her outfit but my favorite is the three peice top, belt and skirt. I love the pattern, I love the entire belt, the empty space on the skirt that makes way for the bow of the belt. THESE S H O E S GIRL(gn) THESE SHOES. AND I MEAN BOTH PAIR THEY’RE BOTH CUTE-
I love all her bangles and her earrings and again HER HAIR ACCESSORIES-
Also the bangs have been banging with these two.
Maria Garcia!
Extremely Day of the dead and I love that for her. She’s doing it ALL and it’s working out so well for her. Firstly the gold accents, the roses lining the sides of the dress and the black lace layers are so tastefully done. It doesn’t overload the dress at all which could’ve been very easy here. I love the Skeleton bodysuit underneath and the gold hand things-I don’t know what they’re called I want a name for those-
I adore the headpiece and the choice to make it a crown and two rows of roses. I love her hair color and skull purse.
Then we gotta get into this makeup (and BROWN EYES AGAIN YES) the sugar skull is beautiful and they balanced the red, purple and white excellently, especially since she has baby hairs.
Her hat?? Queen. Even if I prefer the headpiece. Her shoes also slay even if you don’t really see them. Girl 👏 committed 👏 to 👏 the 👏 bit
Roxie Grand!
Beauty 👏 in 👏 simplicity! We went from a girl doing it all to a girl doing not too much and I love them both. ✨ Women ✨
Firstly, her mermaid silhouette dress is gorgeous. I love the concentration of gems at only the top and bottom, with them sparsely in the middle.
I love the string of gems that outline her wait.
I love how her necklace kinda makes the dress look like a halter top. Her bangles all are super nice, love her big ass earrings. Her makeup is baller and I love that her eyes match the makeup. H A I R ON FLEAK MISS THING Look at her baby hairs and the hair wrapped over the ponytail holder.
Paris Hilton!
Paris, an icon, a legend.
I’m so sorry Stella is right there and like 39$ cheaper. Her base outfit is just Stella’s with the sequin dress but with a bejeweled safety pin on it. Even the crown- just. Girl.
Her second outfit is just soooo cunty tho. The faux blazer bedazzled dress and knee high bedsides boots is sooo good. Especially called off with the sparky fingerless gloves. Love her earrings too.
Fashion closet Avery!
I love this gimmick and I love that she comes with a bunch of clothes and two wigs. I like to think she fried her real hair and had to chop it off, hence the molded on pixie cut when she isn’t wearing a wig.
I won’t do all the outfits she comes with but I will say that the yellow Anti-sparkle Sparkle club outfit is extremely Sunny and the red sparkle bustier outfit is extremely Ruby. Love that for Avery.
Hair Salon Amaya!
Cool gimmick! Her whole thing is the color changing rainbow hair so yeah, makes sense. I don’t love her outfit purely because it looks weird at this scale. If it were life size I’d be obsessed but RH dolls have very short torso’s, so especially her jacket looks weird.
Twin Pack Sunny and Luna Maddison!
Love, love, love these two.
Things from both- Baby hairs, nails, bags, very different kinds of chunky shoes, opposite outfit silhouettes.
Specifics for Sunny- HER HAIR ACCESSORIES. There’s 5 and they’re so random looking it’s so perfect. I love her leg warmers mimicking her normal socks, I love her shoes even if they are platform crocs. Her skirt shirt and jacket are adorable and create a very baggy, drowned look that’s very purposeful. All I want is a bandaid on her nose and face stickers.
Specifics for Luna- I love that her bag is an entire fucking chest. I love her shoes that almost look like somebody molded clips of staples to the bottom. I love that her shirt, bustier, and belt make a tighter, more “basic” silhouette for lack of a better term. In contrast to Sunny she’s only wearing earrings which I adore.
Another thing I noticed and adore is that Luna has twin buns while the top of Sunny’s hair is pinned down, opposites again!
Kia Heart!
Lip color is CRAZY. Girl you need a lipliner!
Otherwise she is gorgeous and I love her. I like her dolls incorporation of rainbow more then most Amaya dolls because it’s a pastel rainbow now. It’s tastefully spread through her pink hair, doted onto her checkerboard sleeves and kept going through her holographic pants. The strangest rainbow in sight is those heels which work pretty well. The hearts everywhere give a lovestruck, heart-eyes type of look which I love.
Love her hair clips, big ass earrings and her lil mole.
Her second outfit? YES. I love all the layering with the hoodie under a jean jacket and a flannel tied over pink bedazzled shorts (I love a bedazzling moment)
My only problem comes in her shoes, her shoes, her SHOES. RH. Just make booties. Just make short boots. I own tons, they’re very popular.
De’Vious twin pack!
Half and half rainbow moment, love that.
I only wish they would’ve symplified the rainbow so Holly’s colors weren’t so…much.
Cuz obvious Laurel is the Red, Orange, Yellow of the rainbow, all on a white backdrop. This leaves Holly with Green, Blue, Indigo and Violet which is just a lot of colors to balance while making them distinct. She looks good but they didn’t nail it. I think removing the green would’ve been how they nailed it. It just looks so discordant with the rest of everything the colors-
Fashion studio Skyler Bradshaw!
Despite sharing a name with her, I have a love hate relationship with Skyler’s outfit concepts. It’s often lots of denim’s and spots inspired stuff and. Yeah this belt skirt is not really the moment. It’s giving 00’s denim insanity and it’s not great. Her shoes and bodysuit are just fine, no problems there!
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got tagged by @therearecowboysinmysoul and @transsexual-heart :)) thank y'all🫂🫂
shuffle ur music to predict how ur 2024 is gonna go, no reshuffles
january: on with the show - mötley crüe
dunno how 2 feel abt this.. kinda accurate kinda not
february: bottom- mccafferty
havent heard mccafferty in ages but from the looks of it ig februarys gonna suck like it did in middle school
march: windmilli vanilli - insanity alert
hell yeah
april: star star - the rolling stones
dunno how 2 feel abt this one either ??
may: sweet little sister - skid row
GATORS MENTIONED‼️‼️💯🔥🐊 MAYS GONNA BE BEAUTIFUL N TRUE
june: new hope for the dead - rock city angels
ok summer's usually god fuckin awful but maybe itll fix me this time around
july: nine ball - zach bryan
damn nevermind
august: shut up & fuck - faster pussycat
LMAOO no way in hell brother im not like that
september: saturday night - misfits
i have no memory of hearing this b4?? it makes sense 4 me tho
october: wasted - the runaways
this is good i think
november: underground - david bowie
beautiful n true bowie month. gonna be lonely n depressed in a way i can handle ig
december: drink one for me - hardy
man don't fuckin say that
tagging @junkyardromeo @jwowwsboobs @n3wy0rkd011 @northstarheartbeat
(n if y'all could do me a favor n make ur own posts instead of rbing this one thatd be sick thank u🫂)
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Written for The Smut Pile Collab: Western AU | MASTERLIST HERE.
(i'm gonna make you) feel it
a.k.a. ✨ MAKKI’S ADVENTURE TIME ✨
Hanamaki “Big Tease” Takahiro x Female Reader
Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.
Warnings: Porn With Plot. Corruption Kink. Reader’s engaged to be married - a bride. Cheating. Highly inappropriate touching and dancing moves (that’s their job tho). Alcohol. Completely unresearched strippers industry. Lowkey exhibitionism. Fucking in a public space (private room). Fingering. Oral sex. SMUT: Doggy style over a sofa. Makki’s a little shit. Overuse of the word “cute” (for real, so many times omg).
Word count: ~7.3k
Note: Saint Dymphna and poor little me would like to introduce you all to the: 🤠 LAWBREAKERS MULTIVERSE 🤠
So, @dymphnasprose basically came at me with: “what about we take cowboys and make them skskskskskssk like magic mike style strippers” and thus was born the wicked duo newest adventure. We had a lot of fun (and a lot of panic) but here it is! Anyone asks why I’m doing two once again it’s also dymph’s fault and my sheer love for Iwaizumi. Also, dymph I love u and I’ve had lots of fun doing this little group project together🥺💕
That being said I’d also like to thanks @mixedhell who once again is a mage of dialogue and helped me several times; Tay, my love @deathcab4daddy, who helped beta part of this and also @xmyshya who was kind enough to beta this too <3
Makki’s songs: Cowboy Casanova (dymph’s courtesy) + Feel it
You can also read: IWAIZUMI | MATTSUN
Hanamaki is focused.
He surveys the screaming crowd inside the packed nightclub, sees the different groups occupying the big booths, the pretty decorations that never fail to distinguish his targets inside the dimly lit room.
Makki likes the meaning behind the different outfits and colors; the details merging into the allegory of remarkability, crafting the idea of uniqueness in their special day where screams of freedom swimming inside intoxicated heads build a tendency into wildness. In building lasting memories of a singlehood that doesn’t really exist anymore, into falling prey of sexy, large men who could take them into a one-time intoxicating memory that they can savor into the end of times.
Marriages can end, Makki thinks, but memories like the ones he makes are forever.
And tonight he has already found the one.
You must be the prettiest little thing he has seen in months, all beautifully clad in a sparkling white party dress, a sexy slit that shows the classical frilly garter adorning your thigh, with a golden black banner that announces for the whole world that you’re taken, soon to be married and enjoying your bachelorette party. It’s almost a challenge, really.
Great. That’s exactly how he likes it.
A brilliant and ridiculous white cowboy hat decorated to leave a tacky gown falling from your head is perched on the table where your small group sits, about eight women dressed in black and a beautiful entourage of bridesmaids if he ever saw one, but it’s you; cute, happy little you who blushed at the very first look at his partially naked torso when all Hanamaki did was pass by your table in his low cut jeans and open flannel shirt, a tilt of his cowboy hat made with half a mind to compliment the ladies until his eyes laid on you.
Your bright eyes had shined with embarrassment at your interest, chest filling with a renewed pull of air at the mere sight of him, a burning in your face that he could notice even in the poorly lit room, flashing lights giving him just the best of peeks -- your plush lips punished by the row of white teeth that closed around the soft muscle and pulled.
That was all he needed, the smallest of sights and still, the biggest of hints.
You were going to be his tonight. He’ll taint that pristine white and you’ll beg for his every move, he knows it just as he knows the women will scream for him as soon as he steps on the stage.
And, in fact, that will be sooner rather than later.
He’ll make sure of it.
The loud music is pulsing through his body, like waves crashing against his skin, his heart seemingly beating alongside the bass in deep, sexy strokes of the R&B music echoing through the club. The youngsters are doing their dance, a coordinated thing between the six newbies of the Club, while Makki and Mattsun wait by the side of the backdoor of the stage, ready to take their places in the next performance.
“Anyone in your sights yet?” Issei asks him as he passes him the bottle of water, which Takahiro puts on top of one of the structures before sending a small grin at the dark-haired man. They’ve been here for four years now, and they have joined the place together, looking to make a good buck while going to College. Stripping is fun, easy, and profitable when you’re young and hot and Matsukawa and Hanamaki are nothing else but.
“The one by the left, the table with the tacky cowboy hat and the golden balloons.”
“A fan of the work, I see.” Matsukawa pulls the curtain to the side just an inch, his eyes quickly surveying the space and centering on the acquired target. Makki knows exactly what he’s seeing, a table filled with a group of beautiful women and you in white shining over them all, the balloons above the wall seeming way more ridiculous once he knows about Makki’s plan of action.
One dick for life. Ha.
“Poor little thing doesn’t know what she’s in for tonight.” Mattsun’s grin is mischievous and all-knowing. Hanamaki has a type, it’s a running joke, but every good joke starts from a glimmer of truth. And in Makki’s case, it may as well be the truth itself.
“And that’s a sexy little group.”
“Yeah, it is. But you already have plans for tonight, don’t you. I’ve heard about it from Oikawa.”
Mattsun doesn’t answer, only a chuckle and a lopsided grin marking his face as he keeps studying the crowd.
The group performance wraps up quickly, being one without public interaction and soon enough Oikawa is making a show, threading between the public with his mic, hyping the crew out with just the right few words.
The lights start going down, softly casting the audience in shadows while the stage is tinged in bright colors before becoming red and by the time people’s eyes are focusing at the center again, Hanamaki and Matsukawa have taken their places.
The music starts to play, soft and calm, pulsing through the bodies of everyone as their eyes focus on the attractive duo in center stage. They’re not supposed to end up naked yet, that’s saved for the end, but as the choreography flows, sharp hip movements, thrusting motions like ocean waves crashing on rocky shores, still get women screaming at the top of their lungs enough for it all to merge with the song as if it’s part of the original bass.
Makki’s wearing a half-opened plaid flannel shirt with nothing under it, and he pops every remaining button open along to the song, the screams getting louder. His jeans are tight enough that every plane of muscle is noticeable, and his belt is black and striking, with a big, bull-shaped buckle. Later he’ll change his outfit to leather chaps and a vest, but right now, he’s more laid back. He looks good, he knows it, but the appreciation in your eyes as you coily drink his from from across the room is like a fucking golden star on his pride.
On top of his head, locked tight, it’s his pinched front cowboy hat. As Makki throws it in the air and catches in the middle of dancing, the screams engulf him from all sides.
But everything else is fading to the back of his mind as his eyes find yours in the dark, the appreciative, enthralled shine in them not lost to Makki. Could never be lost to Makki, who holds onto it as if it’s a life-line; You’re interested.
Ok, that’s good. But it’s also the basics.
Makki twirls and fall on the floor, hips fucking into nothing as the crowd goes insane. He kneels on stage, his shirt flying to the spectators; two women take hold of it, pulling in contrary directions until it rips.
Makki throws you a wink, every woman in that direction claiming it as theirs. You, however, shrug into yourself, eyes looking away as your hands tight their hold around the champagne glass they’re holding. You’re so cute, hands in front of your face as if that would keep you from staring. Makki feels himself glowing, growing excited at the mere sight of your scurrying eyes as they choose the floor instead of his body.
So fucking pure.
Takahiro wants to force you to look up and revel in the guilty desire he’s bound to find there. There’s no need to avoid him if he doesn’t charm you, that’s the beauty of soon-to-be brides. There’s such a deep will inside them to be faithful to the allegory of a husband they do not have yet, lost in a daydream of happiness in finding the one when they haven’t even tasted anything but. Makki eyes the golden balloons floating around the table while he dances -- one dick forever.
Poor little thing. He can’t let that happen, can he?
When Makki hops off the stage and walks over to your table between deafening screamings and pleads for him to take them, instead, his hand closes around your dainty little one, adorned with pretty french nails and just a single golden ring and even the soft, smooth skin of your hand against his rugged palm is a thrill inside his veins.
Your eyes are shining, nervousness sweeping from them as they lock with his. Hanamaki tries to be lowkey, giving you a reassuring smile supposed to be nice, to be trusting -- a complete disconnect of the way his guts stirs in the excitement of your touch.
He lowers his lips to your ears, pretends the way his nose runs over the shell is a mere accident. “Let’s go for a ride, sweetheart.”
Your lips fall open by the side of his face and Makki can feel the way you suck a breath, a little gasp ruining your efforts when he lets his lips brush against your jaw. Another accident, whoops. He’s such a careless boy, isn’t he?
Your teeth punish your bottom lip as your eyes seem to look anywhere but him, trembling hands as you seem half-way into telling him no. Makki can't have that, though. He brings his face to look deep in your eyes, a lopsided smile he can manoeuvre into being just the right amount of kind by now.
"You're not gonna let me go up there alone, will you?" He almost pouts, big hands finding their way on your arms in up and down motions that drag just the right amount of trembles from you for him to know he's winning. "There's no fun without you, sweet girl."
He dips his lips onto the shell of your ear once again, just in time to hide his mischief. "You're the star of the show. I'm just your ride."
That seems to make you giggle and Makki uses that to bring his grin into your view, palms sliding down your arms to clasp your hands and - finally - guide you up with him.
One thing Makki knows is that he likes his brides sweet.
Pliant.
And as you get up and follow him quietly and sheepish, clumsy tripping over yourself when some of your bridesmaids erupt in cheers, he knows he is right once again -- you’re just his type.
Thing is, Makki doesn’t waste time. He makes you twirl in your high heels just to have you falling in his arms, he picks you up without effort, a little gasp breaching your lips as your hands plant against his chest.
Makki just has to grin at the way in which you close your palms and retreat them back to yourself, quick, burning up in a beautiful, delicious expression of shame. Fuck, he wants to make you beg.
When he’s at the stage, he drops you on your feet with enough aggression to get you to slide straight to the floor, unsteady knees opening under you until your ass is planted on the stage.
Makki thinks your open mouthed expression, little breaths breaking through your lips as your anxious eyes stare up at him, have to be the best thing he’s seen in a while. And he’s just starting.
He bends at the waist, his hands to reach your knees and push them open, your bright little white dress sliding up so much he can steal a peek at your fancy underwear.
Such a vixen, aren’t you? All wrapped in lace.
Makki lets himself fall on top of you and you gasp, even as he stays holding himself in a plank, not one bit of skin touching yours. The song is pumping, slow and sexy even if the screams sound louder in the close space. He twists his hips, the rolling motion has them right between your juicy thighs. You’re forced to keep them wide open and the way in which you look mortified just may be what ends him.
Makki drops his knees in the ground, lets the screams wash over him as he drags his hips against your center, soft, then hard. His hands by the side of your head, his toned chest right in front of your face. He knows by the way his skin burns that you’re staring at him -- good, he wants to be the center of all your attention tonight.
Your hands are in front of yourself as if you’re afraid at your own excitement, eager eyes looking for his in a wirlwind of emotions and it makes his fucking skin erupt with goosebumps that the most noticiable one is desire.
Oh, Makki’s going to wreck you. The song turns frantic just as he comes to slide over your body, nose trailing along your collarbone and chest, teeth nipping at your clothes as if he would prefer to be doing it to your skin instead, and he feels the way your shame almost consumes you, body shaking as he finally reaches destination: right above your beautiful open thighs, so close he can almost taste you.
Unfortunately, it doesn't last. And Makki is forced by the choreography to climb back up your body even as he lets his hands linger a bit too close to your clothed center, every woman around screaming as if they can read his mind.
He gets back up and kneels between your open legs, thrusting in time with the music as if he’s actually still thinking about choreography and not in doing this to you later. You’re growing more embarrassed by the moment, your whole body burning and tense, but responsive to his movements and, better yet, his smiles.
His body is used to the motions, to swirling and grinding and thrusting in a wave motion, crashing over your hips time and time again until your lips fall open, and he knows he hit the jackpot.
Makki holds himself in a plank again, his skin turning clammy with the exertion, but he angles his crotch just right and has you singing a groan for him again -- then turning bright with shame in sequence.
Such a precious little thing indeed.
The ground choreo ends way too soon for Makki’s wishes, but he’s soothed by the way in which you let yourself be picked up, hands clinging to his shoulders with such a fierce hold he almost wants to test it out. He throws you up for a moment, relishes in your nails at his back, and his forearms hold you by the underside of your knee, closing on your hips.
And that makes your pretty little clothed cunt roll right against his semi-hard on. There’s a ripping sound, probably your slit getting wider to acomodate your open legs and thus, him.
Lovely.
Makki rolls his hips, right against your center once, and the crowd erupts in screams just as he starts mimicking fucking you standing. A beautiful option he saves in the back of his mind for later.
You let out a yelp, then proceed to try and hide your head against his neck, your pretty mouth gliding against his skin gives him such a high he almost loses the tempo of the song. He tells you to hold on and plants his hands on your bare ass, lifting you until he can have you in front of his face, a bit uncomfortable move but one that has every single woman in the club wet -- it’s in the air by now, and he can smell it. The idea makes his skin prickle, your hands holding his hair for dear life as if you’re afraid to fall, but your clothed cunt is right there, and he can’t pass the opportunity to steal a little touch as he pretends your hold is what pushes his head flush against your pussy.
You let out a beautiful sound almost in time with the song, and he is letting you fall once again on his arms, the smile on his lips the last nail on your pure coffin.
And unfortunately that means time’s up.
Makki lets your legs fall but holds you by your waist, depositing you on your own two feet at the stage and snickering at how your legs falter to hold you up on the high heels. So, as a gentleman, he takes your hand in his, helps you down the few steps on the stage, almost groans at how your hand seems to not want to let him go.
Before he leaves you, he pulls your hand into his lips, absolutely glowing at how breathless you look from the little action after he literally ravished you on stage. It physically pains him that he needs to pick up another bride into his show.
“See you later, pretty one.”
Under you, your legs are faltering, knees trembling like a newborn deer as you’re left alone to fend for yourself in the long path back to your table. Women congratulate you, screaming on your sides at the men who was almost fucking you dumb on stage and his friend, as they continue their show.
Your heart is beating in your ears, leaving you stupid and lost as you’re finally - finally - rescued by your friend, who brings you back to the table with loud congratulations and happy cheers. You feel your body sweating and throbbing, weirdly pulsating for something you can’t name.
Recognizing it would make it real and you cannot believe that after five years in a nice relationship with your only boyfriend and soon-to-be-husband, this is the first time you feel this wet.
You plop down on the closest seat, hands pressing to your chest as you try to both fan yourself and hide behind them. It proves, as expected, a hard task.
Your childhood friend has arrived and you hug her sideways, the short conversation you two exchange somehow lost to your poor heated brain as your eyes keep sliding to center once again at the stage.
The way he dances on stage feels overwhelming, this bride-to-be suffering way less touching and grinding than you, as “Big Tease Makki” stays standing up, his hands groping everywhere in his sculpted body as he dances to the sensual song, including the considerable bulge in his pants.
Something flashes and he turns his head your way so sharply you feel the need to melt further on the sofa, poorly hiding away as everyone around you cheers once again.
His eyes on you were burning a hot trail that slithers over your warm skin even in the dark, the ghost of a feeling of touch, erupting goosebumps along their way as they circle your neck and dip down your side, strutting over your chest to end by your face. Even in the distance, you swear you can feel the way those lips slip into an easy grin, satisfied at the way they have you breathless and weak by thought alone.
The idle chatting of your friends, excited and drunk are dulled by the pounding of your heart inside your chest, and you feel constricted by their presence on your sides at the booth, both ways filled with testimony to your inner turmoils-- can they see your sinful thoughts while they stay that close to you? Can the pounding of your heart and the heat in your face be felt at such a short distance?
The mere idea that they can pry inside your skull and discover the sinful dreams unfolding is too much for you right now, your spine shooting up while you balance yourself in your pretty heels and ask in a meek, nervous voice for the girls to let you pass. Some ask if you need help or if you’re going to the bathroom, and in both options it feels like you’re going to be flanked immediately, so you deny it and say you have to make a quick phone call about something you forgot to confirm and they all nod away, drunkenly squealing for you to be quick.
You’re almost free when one of your bridesmaids, your childhood friend, looks up at you with puzzled eyes.
“Hey, everything's okay?” She’s not drunk, only happily buzzed with sparkling wine, but her eyes are attentive when they lay on your face, worry etched in her brow as she looks for hints hidden in your dolled up face.
“Yeah, just need to take a breather.” You give her what you hope is a reassuring smile even as sweat drips down your back, but the place is dark and loud and she lets you go without much prodding. The place is full and swarming with women, groups of men present but fewer, waiters clad in skimpy clothing as they work the tables full of drinks, shots and champagne. Some are flirtatious, charming smiles along with muscles as they sweep women off their feet and leave their wallets thinner; others are pretty serious, and the mysterious aura has their pull, the ecstasy of conquest working as an aphrodisiac.
You pull past the bodies, feeling a bit light headed as your chest pounds and the booze traverse your body, clumsy steps on too-high-heels you’re not used to, but your bridesmaids had pushed you to wear along with screams to live a little and say hello to the last night before you’re a proper married lady. You’ve never really felt the weight of those words as the last two days, tasting for the first time the sweetness of night as you’ve never before.
If brown, bored eyes make a appearance in your mind as you flee to the corridor leading to the private rooms and women’s bathroom, you’re quick to stop the train of thought before it leads down a muscular torso clad in a tight jeans with a firm ass and a hot, big cock that humped against you in every opportunity while he took you to the stage.
A drop makes it way past your cunt lips to stain your fancy underwear and you groan, ashamed. You’ve never felt this unbecoming need before, the arousal so thick your breasts seem to be heavy against your ribcage, dress feeling too tight on your heated, oversensitive skin.
You’re reaching the curve left that will take you to the bathroom when big hands engulf your frame, palm over your mouth and you’re pulled inside one of the private rooms, too breathless to even make a sound.
“Howdy,” his voice sounds right by your ear, as you’re caged against a burly body and the closed, probably sound-proof door. “Got a fugitive here.”
“Uhh, sir, I--”
“Sir?” He laughs, head thrown back prettily as you drink the arch of his throat. “Oh my god, call me Makki, pretty one.”
The petname makes you flush, tongue heavy and clumsy in your mouth around words. “Uh… Makki, I’m sorry but I, ah…” You fumble with your hands, avoiding touching him, eyes downcast as you try to also avoid even looking at him. It’s too much, he seems everywhere.
“You’re engaged? I can see that, love. You have a banner right there.” He sounds so nice, mischief and boyish glee as he stands way too close to you.
“Then you understand…”
“I understand this is your last night of freedom, right? The last chance for you to be bad,” He breathes against your jaw as he noses along your skin to your ear, his cowboy hat gliding softly against the side of your face, “To be wild.”
Your mouth opens and closes but not a single sound comes out, your brain completely lost to the science of mixing letters into words. All you can think about is how your blood seems to be galloping in your veins, the pounding of your heart so oppressingly loud the beat of the song seems to mimic it and not the contrary.
You are lost to everything but the unbelievable feeling of painful arousal, so sharp and deep your bones seem to be melting out of their places and dripping into the outside by your cunt.
“But,” Leaves your lips dumbly and Makki’s fingers silence you, his lips so close you can taste his every exhale, the flap of his hat managing to blind your vision to anything past his face.
“You’re going to be married to the exact same man forever, sweetheart. You can let go one night. One night for you to feel good.” Makki licks at your throat and your lips fall open with a shameless moan as you burn with shame. “Has he ever made you feel this hot, sweetie? Hm? Have you ever even felt like this? It’s your last chance tonight, right? Don’t lose it.”
Makki’s hands massage their way down your sides, grabbing at the flesh of your hips, brushing your ass, and you’re dead silent as you drool away in your panties. Unable to think, unable to speak, embarrassment clogging your throat together with an impossible, unacceptable yes.
“C’mon, sweetie, let me take care of you.” It’s a plea, and he knows your chest will hurt with the same need that is in his tone. “Just this one time, so you can know what it feels like… how great it can be.”
“One time.” He promises you, earnest eyes boring into yours and, dumbly, enchanted, you nod… and agree.
Well, Makki ain’t waiting around for you to change your mind.
His hands loop around your thighs immediately, pressing you against the door until he can press his body between your open legs. The slit of your dress gives in just the little bit needed to allow his hips to make their way against your core, his lips busying themselves with planting kisses along the arch of your neck, teeth nibbling at the lobe of your ear, tongue gliding over the shell.
His breathing is soft, but so close it feels like it engulfs the room, slithering inside your head and scrambling your thoughts. His crotch presses against your center enough to hold you high and open, one of his hands relieved of their place as it climbs your side and closes around your jaw, angling your head back until you’re trapped between his face and his chest.
You shudder, eyes fluttering closed as if you cannot hold them open, and Makki feels his skin prickling, warmth spreading from his limbs to his chest and down his hips to center themselves at his burning length. You’re such a little vixen, all big eyes and open mouthed staring at him while he has hardly done anything.
He can barely wait to see how you’ll burn when he buries his face in your pussy.
Right now, though, Makki reigns in his excitement, fingers caressing your cheeks until your pretty eyes open up again, dazed. There’s just something about getting pretty little things like you to yield, to breathe out as his lips plant themselves carefully, softly, against your cheek, then the line of your jaw, your chin and your nose.
Every little kiss has you getting restless, trembling in his arms while your hands close around his shoulders, painful little welts that he loves to see. Such desperation.
It’s really the best.
His lips press against the corner of your wobbling plush lips and you shudder, but they push it back, and when Makki finally decides to kiss you, you’re opening your mouth in your eagerness, tongue lapping awkwardly at his lips as he chuckles and decides it’s time to stop playing.
When he kisses you then, you gasp, precious little sound leaving you as if you had no idea you could even make it, and then you’re melting against him, pressing against his chest as his mouth works its wonders on yours, tongue circling, searching, sucking. He nips at your lips, steals all the short bits of breath from your lungs until you’re writing against him, pressing sinful hips against his crotch in such a desperate way it’s endearing.
The hand on your thigh dips further under your dress, finds the plush meat of your ass and engulf it in its palm, delighted at how inexistent is the small little thing you’re wearing and how fucking delicious it feels. His fingers dig into your bottom until you break the kiss to gasp at how easily he can slip his long indicator from your ass to your pussy.
It’s his time to lose his air at how fucking wet you are, ruined fancy panties and moist thighs.
“Oh god, look at that. Little bride is so wet for this cowboy.”
You make a face, lips pursing in an awkward turn and coily shifting to look down, appraising looks on his chiseled chest. “Okay this one was bad!” Makki offers with an easy smile, the hand on your neck dipping into your breasts, palms pressing on your chest as he turns his focus on circling the hard nipple through your clothes, closing around the plush meat until your offending honest little lips part once again to him. He can see in the turbilion of your eyes how you’re still swirling against guilt, holding back from him.
“But can you blame me? Look at me.” He makes a mention with his head towards the big bulge straining his tight jeans, which have you unconsciously looking down, his hand sliding over your jaw to tilt your head up to meet his eyes, charming, easy-going smile in his lips. “Look at you.”
He rolls his hips once against your sex, feels the blistering heat even through layers of clothes but he’s done this enough to know exactly where to aim, having a moan escaping through the tight cage of your lips before you can hold everything else in by the lock of your teeth.
He can’t have that, though. He thrives on applause after all.
“Now, beautiful, I’ll need you to stop that right there.” His fingers dip under you to slide against the soiled fabric clinging to your folds and you all but tense, melting after as if you cannot conceive how good is his mere touch. “I want to hear you, c’mon.” Your eyes drop on his in hurt, but you free your bottom lip, mouth imediatelly falling open around a groan as Makki presses aimless around the entrance of your sex. Damn, Makki likes this.
“Yes, like that. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” His cock is straining against his boxers already, length rolling in perfect aimed strokes over the apex of your sex as his fingers thread on the outline of your beautiful cunt and when he dips inside a single fingertip, your sex and hands cling to him, all the beautiful curves of your body against his and he just-- He wants to see.
“Ok, dinner time!” Makki chuckles as he brings his hands once again to hold you firmly by your thighs, fingers spread enough to keep rolling against the edges of your cunt.
“Wha-What?” You give a charming yelp at the way he holds you effortlessly while abandoning the door to walk over to the couch. It’s just a cheap upholstered thing in front of the circular stage with the pole hanging from the ceiling, but it’s just the perfect length for what he needs.
He lets you fall, open and disheveled over it, legs spread to show the lace he saw earlier, stained and soiled after just a bit of makeout.
“You’re so cute.” It’s mockingly, really; meant to be a jab at how you’re so hazed and undone by just a few moves of his, but the way in which your doe eyes thread up to him, shiny and unfocussed; your hands closing around your frame as a hand plants in front of your breasts is just… cute. There’s no other word. You’re just a cute little thing and he wants your demise.
Makki groans and pulls you to the edge of the sofa by your legs, easily dropping between your thighs in a wave move, face planting itself on your breasts to suck at sweaty clothes, teeth pulling the fabric down until your nipples peek through and he sucks them inside his mouth, too.
You tremble so easily, even worse when he abandons it to nose his way down your body tightly clad in the white dress, kisses over your belly until he’s nosing at your clothed cunt, open mouth kisses adding to the moistness in your poor underwear.
“Delicious.” Makki says for no reason other than to state his thoughts, tongue rolling over the clothed slit as if its skin, reveling in how your poor legs start to shake, needing the aid from his hands spreading them to finally stop. “Tell me, honey, have your fiancé ever fucked you good? Hm?”
The mention makes you stiff, head pressing to the side of the sofa as if you’re fighting a battle inside your own mind, triggered by the piece of trivia question.
“I bet he hasn’t,” Makki laughs, nosing at your pussy with such pressure his whole face gets smeared in your juices. “Is he your first boyfriend? Tell me more.”
“I--how do you--” You stutter through bitten lips, truth tipping out once he easily spreads you open with his thumbs on each side. “Yes.”
“What a waste, such a wet fucking pussy and not one single effort from your hubby to-” Makki pulls your underwear aside, tongue lolling out to lick a long strip from your entrance to your clit, “lick”, once, it”, twice, “clean.” and thrice.
You let out a cute little noise and he gets impatient, pulling the lace at the side with enough force it rips easily under his hand. Your indignant noise doesn’t even sound right, lost in a moan at the way he closes his lips around your clit and brings his tongue to play with it fast. His hand presses harder on the skin of your thighs, leaving you open as a present, ripe and wide.
If Makki says he eats pussy as a fucking meal, it’s not out of vanity. He doesn’t like to stroke his own ego, it’s just the plain truth. He works his tongue around your cunt, licks at your puffy lips, slither his way over the labia, gathers all the dripping …. and lets it drip over your pussy, just to suck it up and spit on it, after all he never understood the whole don’t spit on the plate you eat. If it’s pussy, he’s sure it’s the fucking other way around.
You’re writhing and moving around, a symphony of gasps and moans fighting their way past your tight lips. Makki doesn’t mind. As he brings his thumbs to stroke up and down the sides of your cunt, he knows you’ll be screaming in no time. It’s just too much. It’s clear you’ve never had anything like this just by the frantic way you’re humping his face, hands grabbing at anything and everything they can, unable to hold on. His only shame is how busy his mouth is, unable to tease his way into the pure debauchery you’re demonstrating.
He pauses a bit to angle himself back, eyes trained at your pussy, dripping fucking wet all over the dress and the sofa. His thumbs spread at the sides of your entrance, pull it open just to see it blink and gap, begging for his cock without a word leaving your lips. Shit. His cock is straining against the tight jeans in such a painful way he has to let one hand go, open his button and fly, let the poor warrior fight its way past the band of his calvin kleins.
Then he’s back at his work, one thumb keeping you open as his hand returns to plunge his indicator inside slowly. Makki’s mouth almost falls open at the bewitching way your walls give in, letting him sink inside the velvety wet inside with ease. You’re clenching around him, groaning above and begging below, so he lets a second one inside at the retreat and advance of his wrist.
“Have your little husband ever made you feel like this, huh? Have he eaten this little pussy so good you make a mess?”
“Jesus Christ!” You moan above and Makki laughs. He loves this. Loves the little religious bout he gets from tight little brides when they actually taste heaven amidst sin. You try to ride his fingers, but he presses the back of your knees higher, and you let out a breathless “God!” at the new angle.
Then he starts the real game, fingers moving around your heat in search of a specific spot he finds with little prodding and then abuses until you’re begging.
“Oh my god! I, fuck--Jesus!”
“Yes, just like that sweetheart. If you beg for me real pretty I’ll give you what you want.” He says as his fingers keep plunging in and out of your heat in an upwards motion, strong but slow, dragging the feeling of his thick digits inside your walls. It’s close, he can feel it in the way you’re swelling around him, restless kicking out legs and praying for God as if it isn’t Makki who’s giving you all this.
“My name, sweetie. Beg for it, c’mon. Say it out very loud, how you want my cock to fuck you nice and hard as you’ve never had before, huh? Just--”
“Fuck!”
“Just tell me more how you had no idea it could be so good and how you need me to show you how fucking good a man can actually fuck.”
“Oh my god,” you all but yelp, but then sighs a, “yes, please.”
“Hmmm? Couldn’t hear you.”
“Oh fuck, Makki please fuck me!” There’s a breathless, outstandly maniac laugh breaching your lips after that, a flow of quick words falling from your lips as a train of thought, “Jesus I’ve never felt like this, oh my god I think I’ll actually die without--”
“There we go!” Makki laughs, voice loud as he stops everything to get up and once again bends down to pick you up.
“Wha--Wait!” You squeak, body tense and trembling at the loss as Makki only kisses around your tearstained face and makes his way around the upholstered couch. “Makki!” That has to be the needier, whinier tone he has ever heard his name in.
And he loves it.
He lets you slide through his hands, bends you over the back of the couch, your ripped panties sliding to the floor by one of your legs. One of Makki’s hands descends hard on your ass with a loud slap, your lips opening around a beautiful moan. The other does the same, both circling and massing the plump flesh as your ass and pussy blinks seductively at him.
That does it. Makki curses as he pulls his pants and underwear down, his hard, bloody-red cock slapping up against his navel; he closes his hand around it to slap it between the crack of your pretty behind and feels everything in him tingling at how wanton you sound in your moan, angling your back so that your ass can climb higher, head against the seat cushions.
“Yes, baby, just like that.” Makki praises you as he tilts his cockhead on your slit, up and down, up and down against your clit, labia and entrance. It’s absolutely delicious how you clench to try and hold his cockhead, but it slips up to bob against your ass. “Ops, let’s try again.”
He does the same thing a second time but then you groan and whine once again, “Makki, please!”
Well, fuck, who’s he to deny you, right?
He pats your ass and supports his weight at the back of his feet, cockhead right against the beautiful hole weeping for him and, carefully, slowly, deliciously starts dipping inside. Your pussy sucks him in as a vice, muscle clenching and releasing; loud, satisfacted moans in your lips. It’s almost choking to him that the loud noise in the room comes from him, too, mouth falling open in a growl.
When his hips are nested against your ass, Makki has the urge to kiss you but squatches it down in favor of holding you strongly and fucking you throughly. Motioning himself in waves as he had on the stage, his cock slides in and out of you with such delicious, timed precision he thinks you’ll come twice on him before he’s done.
Your tight heat is velvety wet around him, squelching sounds sinful in the room as he grinds his hips against your ass, cockhead nestled against the firm pressure of your cervix. There’s babbles tipping from your lips, as if your mind has broken and you have to pronounce your mess of thoughts out loud. It’s cute.
Maybe he'd appreciate it more if his mind wasn't falling him also; his whole body feels constricted, strained, hips rolling in long, deep, strong strokes that make his cock into a pleasure antena, broadcasting to his whole being, blistering heat spreading through his veins and turning sharp at his spine and to start pooling at his balls.
He is about to dip his hand to your clit and end you when your body seizes, legs kicking while dangling from the backrest of the couch and your pussy starts creaming hard like a vice around his cock.
“Fuck!” He groans, tensing his whole body before you bring him over with you, hand slithering to hold the base of his cock, hard. Then he laughs, no breath to spare. “Wow, baby, no heads up? Now you gonna have to give me one more, I’m not done with you yet.”
You let out an indignant groan, but rest boneless under him. Makki retreats his hips from your snug grip and starts pistoning his way inside your heat, unforgiving even as you yelp and whine, oversensitivity probably making you burn. Makki lets one of his hands let go of your hips and fall hard on your ass, in time to feel the way your pussy grips at him, yelp turning into a moan. Makki lets his hands slide down the side and curve his wrist so your fingers can find your clit, rubbing him frantically as he angles his hips just right, every wave of his body aimed against your precious spot.
“Yup,” Makki groans, growing exhausted. “Just like this.”
Your eyes snap open, hands frantically reaching to hold on anything by them as you look back at Makki with shiny, big, dazed eyes in absolute terror at the fact you are, indeed, going to keep cumming on his dick, second orgasm hitting you so hard and fast Makki actually tips over with you, the pressure in his balls releasing in one blissful climax at the incessant contracting of your cunt and the wave of your orgasm gushing out of your pussy in the closest thing to a squirt he could pull out of you amidst a unending orgasm.
Makki stays inside you as he rides his high, grinding his hips even as you cry from the oversensitivity. When he pulls out, he’s careful with the condom and also has half a mind to hold your body, throwing the used thing somewhere to be cleaned after. Almost as if perceiving the breach, his cellphone starts ringing somewhere, loud as fuck in the closed room.
“Damn, fuck,” Makki scrambles to the sound, his legs almost giving out under him and his fingers so numb it takes three tries to actually accept the call. Which he didn’t read who from.
“MAKKI! WHERE ARE YOU, WE’RE STARTING IN FIVE.” Iwaizumi nags at him, stern and loud, piercing through his haze enough to make his brain drop some adrenaline into his bloodstream, suddenly alert and kicking, muscles straining but holding as he pulls his underwear and jeans quick over his ass and searches for his cowboy hat in time to dip and run to the presentation.
“Sorry baby, gotta go.” He saunters to you, plants a kiss on your sweaty head and another at your swollen lips and smiles the same sinful smile that ended up bringing you here, along with a tilt of his cowboy hat. “Duty calls.”
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Tutorial on how I do my moodboards💕
For @kray-dragon, @lyranova & @jovialnoise and anyone else who’d find this helpful
Bonus: How to recolor certain colors in an image
Reblogs are appreciated 👉👈💕
PicsArt
PicsArt
The filters on this app are paid but one of its most useful features are in Effects -> scroll all the way down to Colors where you can replace the colors of an image(one of the best features😩), colorize, and hue.
LiveCollage
It’s where I put my images into a collage. They have a lot of formats but my favorite is the standard 3x3 with 9 images. I always do 9. And in the edit section, lower the space between the border and the images to close the gap. And they also have AMAZING filters😩😩 I like their filters the most😎
It’s where I put my images into a collage. They have a lot of formats but my favorite is the standard 3x3 with 9 images. I always do 9. And they also have AMAZING filters😩😩 I like their filters the most😎
Photos
Well, the iPhone photos also have good editing options. I use it for their basic filters which work really well tbh. I like their warm and black and white filters. In fact, I used the dramatic warmth filter for the Julius moodboard. But I use it the most for exposure, brilliance, black point, warmth, coolness, tint etc etc. it’s just convenient but you could also use the Lightroom app for all that.
Lightroom
My photography friends make images and presets for me so that’s why I use this app but android users can use it for the features I use in the iPhone photos app.
Palette Cam
NOW THIS APP it’s literally the best for saving palettes of any images and it has nooooo ads at all but it’s only on ios so I’d recommend “Pigments” for android. The one I use is so freaking good tho😩😩
IbisPaint X
I use it to redraw certain things like for example, for the fuego & solara moodboard, in the image with the man holding up the woman, the man had shorter hair which fuego does not have so I went on ibis paint and did this
See? it’s super cool and helpful to retouch images like that!
CapCut
It’s a super easy app for editing videos and stuff and I just included that as bonus if yall needed recommendations for video editing too hehe it has super complex features that would make your edits look out of this world if you know how to use them properly.
————————
Ok enough chitchat let me tell you how I do it😎
So there are two different character moodboards I do. Solo character and ships.
For both solo characters and ships, I always have two quotes which I place in the middle row, left and right.
The quotes ofc have to be related to the character or the vibe of the ship
Then I have at least one hand picture in the board bc uhhh hands are my thing😅👉👈
For the solo characters the center picture is always an icon of their character, or the main motif.
The Julius moodboard has a starburst art in the middle of it and the overarching theme is stifled divinity so it’s like an explosion or a reveal of his power.
While Yami, William, and Yuno boards are their icons.
The rest of the pictures on the board are their vibes. Royalty vibes and crowns for Julius and Yuno. Soft vibes like birdhouse, bird and his beautiful smile for William. Yami’s culture and his propensity for smoking in his board etc.
For my BC moodboards, I also include one image that’s their magic. Like Julius: clock; Yami: the moon and his katana; Yuno: hand with wind magic and Bell’s wing; William: tree.
For the ship moodboards, I try to have at least two hand pictures but it always doesn’t work out. I also include at the very least, two human pictures or silhouettes either together or apart. And the rest are also the motifs, vibes, and maybe even a photographically representation of a situation the ship went through together.
The most important thing in a mood board is
‼️PLACEMENT‼️
THIS IS SO FREAKING IMPORTANT TO MAKE SURE IT LOOKS GOOD
Uniformity is important(at least in a 3x3 where it’s possible but if it’s another format, that’s a whole nother talk BUT EVEN THEN ITS IMPORTANT)
Look at these!
The cross is all dark and the corners are light
The X is all light while the edges of the cross are all dark.
It looks more pleasing to the eye!! You can’t have random placement of the pictures inside the formation too.
In the Yuno moodboard, in the cross, the top and bottom are royalty themed while the horizontal line are the quotes.
Same with William’s. Top and bottom are the golden dawn and it’s castle. The diagonal connecting the birdhouse and the bird are well, connected, bc yk birds.
I cannot STRESS how important placement is. Please please please place them where they would look neat.
Now let’s talk filters.
You can you any app that you like😎 I use Filto, PicsArt and most often, LiveCollage.
For my dark moodboards, I first make em all black and white and then I colorize them in PicsArt with the Colorize effect all the way down in the colors category effects.
Since the colorize tool is very intense by default, you have to increase the fade on the slider given and lower it down a bit to make it more subtle but at the same time give it a filter.
I’m learning how to make two toned filters and presets so give be some time for that but yee
Colors of the filters are important for the vibes of each character.
For example, while yuno’s color is light green, I chose viridian for the filter color bc of his cool attitude.
Filters are easy game but let me teach you how to recolor certain parts of an image
Go to PicsArt -> effects -> scroll all the way down to colors -> color replace
I can change this orange hair, into pink hair.
It’s very cool😎
I hope this helps and I’d love to make more tutorials in the future🥰🥰🥰
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tagged by truly a beautiful goddess @jamaisjoons to post 9 selfies from 2020. thank you solar flare 💗✨
i don’t usually take selfies except when i travel or am being silly so the whole top row is from japan. best selfie of the year tho is bottom middle when i was in a 5 hour summit meeting and at hour three turned my camera off to do a face mask. true inspirational beauty lmao
tagging: @yehet-me-up @jenmyeons @kyungseokie @chillingkoo @imdifferentshadesofpurple @red-exo @ninibears-erigom @inkedtae @kimtaehyunq @yoonia @onherwings @suqakoo @delhyun @jaeyoonurl @yixingminseokjongdae @yeojaa @snackhobi @yeolville and anyone else who wants to do this! as always please only do so if comfortable 💗
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Sunday 29 June 1834
4 38
11 ¼
With her an hour and five minutes and two kisses. Very fine morning F68° at 5 ¼ - Off from Mont-sous-Vaudrey at 5 38 just an hour from the time of my getting out of bed – slept comfortably - good beds as everywhere – charming morning – nice rich corn country – the country from Dôle here, bare of wood, and not as pretty as before - from here (Mont-sous-V-) to Poligny rich corn country finer as it nears the mountains - just out of Mt.-S.-V- a leagues drive thro’ the forest of Rahon and all the way good road - easy descent upon Poligny seated amid vines that creep up some distance on the high mountain side - the town tho’ shabby streets on entering and very narrow a pretty good one and very tolerable hotel au grand cerf where we have just breakfasted milk and good alpine strawberries - the houses are at the very foot of the mountains - bare rock and shingle sparingly covered with herbage rise almost perpendicular above the houses - but some of the Craven hills look as considerable - At Poligny at 7 35 and off at 9 48 - Miss W- lay down for ½ hour before and as long after breakfast and having eaten biscuits in the carriage going a stage before breakfast seems to have suited her very well - I have not enjoyed my breakfast so much since leaving home - for on breakfasting immediately after getting up I never eat with relish - narrow shabby streets on sortant as well as on entrant Poligny - rocky hills terraced almost to the top with vines - pass the old convent, now a séminaire with 499 jeunes gens, in the fine
SH:7/ML/E/17/0048
beautiful vallon de Vaux, and nearly at the end of end turn (left) and traverse to the top of the mountain to the little café and restaurant du vallon de Vaux at 10 50 - walked up nearly the whole of the ascent and a little beyond the café in 50 minutes - very fine view over the rich wooded extensive plain of Dôle - Poligny very picturesquely situated at the very foot of the mountains - had the day been very clear I daresay could have seen Dijon plain enough - the intervening towns and villages with their clochers scattered over the wide plain forever peeping up among the wood - tolerably [even] and rich pretty drive along the mountain top (the 1st mountain plain) to Montrond, a nice little scattered village with old ruined round tower on the top of round hill (the mont rond?) - cheval du renfort to Montrond but not from there the next stage (Champagnole) pretty drive to C- 1 good street and then down the steep descent to the other part of the town where is la poste, a good-looking hotel where we might have slept very well - cheval de renfort again - the town surrounded by fir and beech wooded mountains - got out of the carriage just out of the town, and walked ¼ hour up the hill - and from 2 23 to 3 (the last 5 minutes downhill) A- and I walked up the hill, and then down the steep tho’ shortish descent almost to Maison Neuve in a (pretty little) basin at the foot of the pine-covered mountains - the poste and hotel (a poor looking place) a lone house - a few good-looking houses scattered about at a little distance - at 3 ½ (in ¼ hour’s slow trotting had gone about 1 mile English? from Maison neuve) pass le Lion roux, a nice, clean, good-looking auberge (‘on loge à pied et à cheval’) where we might have slept well enough - not very possible to have slept at la poste (at Maison neuve) - at St. Laurent at 4 ¾, very good, clean, well-built village - Good -looking Hotel de l’Ecu de France, probably la poste, for the horses were there ready - I walked up the hill from 5 ¼ to 5 35 the road along this narrow gorge cut out of the rock with wood above and below - very fine descent upon Morey from 4 ¾ for 57 minutes only seven of which about the middle of the descent without sabot, tho’, except at last down upon the deep Gorge at the end of which is Morey, the road was very good and did not fall more than about 3in. at a yard - the postboy grumbled at my insisting on his not trotting with the sabot on, looked as cross as the old gentleman and declared he would make me pay for the retard - making a new road a little above the old one along the last part of this long descent just down upon the mountain torrent (dry now) that runs along the bottom of the valley - seem intending to cross the stream and carry the road on the other side of it - the valley of Morey a deep very narrow gorge little more than room for the nice, clean, good little town - reminded me of the Pyrenees - the perpendicular limestone hoary rocks (200 toises above 1200 English foot high) very fine - at Morey at 7 47 La poste, good enough looking hotel but the dirtiest people we have met with and the scantiest dinner we have had - however good beds (3 bedded room) large lofty room and comfortable enough. Rowe with the postilion – very impertinent – so would only give him at the rate of 15 sols per poste - because 1 ½ came to 22 ½ sols he would not take the 23 sols would have liards because he thought and I said I had none – would not take the money at first – had up the maître de poste, very civil but got out of the way - threatened to send for one of the police (one of the women of the house said a gendarmé) so got rid of the man - A- laughing, George trembling (like aspen leaf) she said - dinner at 7 ¾ - the postilion business had prevented my writing - very fine day F63° at 11 pm much cooler here on the Jura - three quarters hour with Miss W- before getting into my own bed at eleven and a quarter
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May I request Kuroo with an extremely ticklish female s/o? SFW, please! Thank you!
Anon... This is such an adorable ask and I want to thank you from the bottom of my ❤️
Kuroo Tetsurou with an extremely ticklish female s/o
• Hohohoho you're in for a wild ride
• Kuroo...Kuroo and a weakness of yours is a deadly combination
• Especially tickling
• Knowing that he can literally wiggle his fingers near you and see you already panicking cause you know what's going to happen is like a lullaby for him
• The moment he finds out, it's game over for you
• Sneaky is his middle name, so the first few times will be a surprise for you cause you never know when he'll pop up or where he'll actually tickle you
• Are you trying to reach the top shelf? Lol guess again
• Are you trying to read a book? A sneaky finger will find it's way somewhere near your neck
• But then Kuroo realises something.
• Isn't it better for him (and worse for you) when he looks you dead in the eyes before tickling the living snot out of you
• And he does just that
• You've noticed that he's been pretty silent when it comes to his famous attacks and even though you have relaxed, you're still paranoid
• And kuroo uses that to his advantage
• You'll be watching a movie, minding your own business and then
• Poke.
• You try to ignore it but you just know he's planning something
• Poke.
• He does it aGaIn
• You turn around and lock eyes with death Kuroo
• He leaves whatever he is doing behind and cracks his fingers
• "Oh shit..." "Oh shit is exactly right babe"
• The thought of running away hasn't even settled in your mind, Kuroo has you already pinned down onto the couch
• Your arms are pinned up high above your head cause more access right
• Now, his eyes are beautiful. His eyes with that little teasing glint are deadly
• He wouldn't do anything. He would just look down at you, his gaze dancing around all your weak spots that he knows and those he wants to try out
• You're sweating buckets by now, hE iSnT dOiNg AnYtHiNg
• "K-Kuroo?""Hmmm... "
• He's still staring you down, his smirk growing bigger and bigger as you start squirming
• And when you open your mouth to say something
• He goes in for the kill.
• There is not. One safe spot. On your body.
• You are half laughing, half screeching, half crying, half running away (you're just doing everything lol)
• There are spots you didn't even know were sensitive until his sneaky fingers found their way to them
• Doesn't let you breathe tbh
• Teases you the whole damn time-
• "Aww is my kitten ticklish~" "But your ribs are my favorite body part to play with~" "Oh! Is this a sweet spot as well, I'll save that for later"
• It takes him a long time to actually stop tickling you cause he kind of zones out
• Your laugh would be a melody constantly stuck in brain and that teasing smirk would turn into this softest smile as he watches you laughing (or crying your eyes out...or both)
• WOULD EMBARASS YOU IN FRONT OF THE TEAM AT LEAST ONCE
• Public tickles are also a thing cause he loves when you have to beg him not to do anything
• And when he actually agrees you know you're gonna get rEkT at home
• Wake up tickles as well, those are so soft tho, he is actually very nice then and just wants you giggling not full on laughing your lil heart out
• But all in all, he would not let you live when he finds out about this lol
• So prepare to be sore for days in a row cause tickling you is also a stress relief for him
• This is just one of the many cute couple things you'd guys do so enjoy as much as you can ❤️
#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo testuro#tickling
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and now for my ✨ aesthetic ✨ plague dragons~ (tw for plague primal, eye strain, capsule gene, rosette gene, tapir gene and mild body horror)
top row is VoodooChild, Irken, and Lucky, who simply exist to be pretty and don't have much lore~ Lucky is a kelpie, tho!
middle two g1 "siblings" are Disease and Vector, a pair of nasty toxic cyborgs that exist purely to transmit disease and challenge the resilience of their fellow dragons. assorted toxins currently ooze from their bodies, I'd recommend keeping your distance.
bottom row are my favorites! Chillwave is my beautiful vaporwave child. they're a dj that runs the bowling alley in the town my clan built in the abiding boneyard 😌 in the middle is Candytuft! he can't regulate his magic and recruited several mana thieves to help him... and/or drain his enemies, whatever's most useful at the time. (he's also blind, but he's got a bat familiar to help him get around!) last but not least, it's Honeydont! she might look like a delicious, fruity melon, but she's actually a cactus! and her cactus juice is ✨toxic✨ :D
#flight rising#dragon share#fr g1#eye strain#my dragons#capsule gene#tapir gene#plague primal#rosette gene#body horror#poison gene#toxin gene
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Chapter 37 - A Strange Girl Who Is Everything I’ve Ever Dreamed
Seattle Washington, September 21 1990
(Andi is 20, Chris is 26)
ANDI: "Ok, I can do this right? I mean... right?" I say as I stand in front of the full length mirror in our bedroom, My dark curls styled in loose ringlets that cascaded down passed my shoulders, looking at the simple white strapless dress that hugged my bust perfectly and flowed down to just above my knee. It pretty much looks just like a sun dress with a lace overlay starting from just under the bust. It's pretty '60's inspired and it was all I could afford - and it was the only dress that I found suited me the best without it being too elaborate, that also went perfectly with these solid white heels on my feet that feel too tall. I just hope I don't trip at any point.
"Yes, baby girl... you can do this,"
I turn around and see my father John, standing in the doorway leaning against the frame in a white dress shirt, black jeans and a black jacket. His hair just to his shoulders and a full beard and I suddenly felt like a little girl again.
"Daddy," I say and my bottom lip trembles as he walks over to me and embraces me in a hug.
"How's my girl?" He says and I practically cry feeling his arms around me. I hadn't seen him since December last year and I knew I missed him, I just didn't think it was this much. He smells exactly the same, reverting me back to when I was a little girl and I would hang on his every word and snuggle into him as he held me.
"Uh, well I'm getting married," I giggle through my tears as I pull away from him.
"I see that," He chuckles as he glances over me.
"Oh my god, I'm a mess," I say as I turn back to the mirror and grab a tissue wiping my eye trying carefully not to mess up my make up.
"No sweetie you are beautiful... you look just like your mother when we got married," He says and I turn back to him. "I wish she could see... " he trails off for a moment and looks down at himself.
"It's ok daddy... she's here," I say and he gives me a half smile.
"You know... I always loved your mother. No matter what. I made mistakes and I regret the day that I left more than anything -
"Daddy - "
"No you need to hear this. I miss her more than anything. I know we probably were never meant for each other but she was a really good woman, and I loved her very much and I was just too damn stubborn and hardheaded in my ways to realize just how much she wanted me to be there... How much she really meant to me," John looks at me with his dark eyes filled with so much love for me and so much regret.
"Daddy it's ok... she knows,"
He gives me a small smile, then takes me in his arms again embracing me in a hug and I knew for sure the tears were going to start again.
"I love you my baby girl," He says, his voice deep and comforting.
"I love you too daddy," I sigh and he holds me for a few more moments and then pulls away giving me a kiss on my forehead.
"Ok, I'm gonna let you finish getting ready and I'll meet you at the back sliding door... that is where we planned it right?"
"Yes," I giggle. I can tell he's a little nervous about giving me away. He gives me a wink and squeezes my hand then turns and heads out of the bedroom. I then turn back to the mirror and try to fix up the rest of my make up, making sure nothing smudged with all the emotions I'm feeling. Suddenly I somehow couldn't shake this weird dizzy feeling, thinking maybe it was just cause I haven't eaten anything. I've been way too nervous to even think about food all morning.
I take in a few deep breaths and close my eyes for a moment to try and focus but it's almost like it made it worse.
Ok, Andi, you're ok... just relax
I flick open my eyes and make my way to the bathroom that was just beside our bedroom, and lean against the sink. I haven't felt like this in a long time and usually this happens when I'm about to have a time slip. I've been taking those pills so I have no idea where this is coming from. I steady myself for a moment and glance at myself in the bathroom mirror when everything really started to get blurry. I open up the medicine cabinet and take out the bottle of Lorazepam, then just as I popped open the bottle cap, everything went completely dark.
*****
CHRIS: Standing outside in our backyard, I feel like I have been waiting forever for this moment. I'm finally making Andi my wife and all I could think about was how incredibly nervous I am in front of all these people. I know it's just friends and family but still, I can't help but feel that way, especially when they are watching. I glance down at myself in my black button up shirt, that I left untucked and black pants and adjust my suede wrist bands, fidgeting with them because I'm so damn nervous.
Everyone had taken their place. My sister Katy standing next to Demri, My brother Peter standing next to me, My mom sitting in the middle row with my older brother Patrick, Kim matt and Ben all sitting in the back row along with Layne, Jerry, Stone, Jeff and Eddie. Eddie Vedder - now one of my closest best friends - sitting in the back with his date that he brought - I think she said her name is Beth? - Anyways, When Jeff and Stone and I started working on some music back in August, they introduced me to Ed and said that they were wanting to continue on in a band with him, and hit it off so incredibly well. He's such a great guy... he just has this soulfulness about him that reminds me of Andy. I know Andi was so shy around him at first and it was funny to see two incredibly shy people try to get to know each other. I think Andi was the one who said something first though... and we all know how hard it is for her to be the one to spark up a conversation.
Speaking of Andi, where the hell is she?
"So are we almost ready to get started? Where's the bride - Andrea, it's Andrea right?" The officiant says to me.
"Yea, um... I think we are almost... ready?" I turn and give Peter a look of confusion and he looks down at his watch.
"Um, yea... let me go and see if she's ready," Peter says and pats me on the shoulder and heads down the small isle. I see Peter walk up to Susan who had just come out of the house and say something to her, Susan nods, then disappears back into the house.
"Susan's going to check on her," Peter says as he comes back down the isle and takes his place beside me again.
"Ok," I say and start to fidget again.
"You alright brother?" Peter asks.
"Yea, yea... I'm just nervous," I say. After a few moments, Susan comes back, walking down the isle and smiling to everyone as they greet her, then finally reaches me.
"She's gone," She lifts herself up and whispers in my ear.
"What?" I say flatly.
"She's not in the bedroom," She says again. Feeling my heart begin to pound a million times a minute, I gently move her out of the way and walk hurriedly down the isle while our guests begin to stir, wondering what's going on. I make my way inside the house and run as fast as I can up the stairs to our bedroom and she is nowhere to be found.
"No.. No, no, no, baby not now,"
I check the opposite bedroom, and nope not in there either. I then quickly run into the bathroom and see her dress laying in a clump on the floor with her white shoes and white lacy garter belt.
*****
(Andi is 28)
ANDI: "I'm sorry!" I yell back to the neighbor screaming at me as I fumble putting on one of the shoes I had taken from the back yard from one of the houses a few streets over from our house. It's my freaking wedding day, and I can't believe I had somehow forgot to tell myself that this would happen. At least I was able to make it back to the same neighborhood.
I couldn't have slipped at a worse time either. Right in the middle of Chris and I... well... god his lips felt so fucking good, hitting that perfect spot. I was so fucking goddamn close too. Fucking Christ!
I quickly make my way down a few blocks, pretty much running so that I wouldn't make the ceremony too late and finally come up to our old house. There were tons of cars parked outside, but it looks like everyone is in the backyard. Pushing my curls behind my ear, I quietly make my way up to the front door, head inside and immediately up the stairs, hearing everyone's voices out in the backyard. I step into the bedroom, walk over to the window and see everyone conversing while it looks like Chris and Peter are talking to my dad and preventing people from coming inside the house.
"Shit, ok gotta hurry," I say to myself and run into the bathroom, tearing off my stolen clothes and jumping in the shower to quickly clean myself.
Fuck, I'm so hungry
In no time I finish, dry myself off and try to style my curls as best I could. I remember my hair was so perfect in soft loose ringlets, now it's damp as I try to scrunch it with some hair product knowing I don't have time to whip out the curling iron to make it the way it was that day - I mean this day. I quickly change into my wedding dress, finding it a little tighter than I remember but still able to get it on, only now the top of my cleavage is visibly showing.
I guess my boobs did get bigger.
I then grab the white garter belt and slide it up to my thigh, then slip on my white shoes. I then head back into the bedroom to check myself in the full length mirror, try and fluff my curls a bit as they fall down around my shoulders in tight curls and see if I can quickly throw on some make-up. As I move over to my dresser I hear a few voices coming up the stairs again and I start to panic a little.
"I'm just gonna check the bedroom again, you never know she might have - "
The door opens and I quickly close up my powder compact and see Chris in his black button up dress shirt, untucked with the top 2 buttons undone, his necklaces laying against his bare chest, those black suede wrist bands and black dress pants, his curls - oh my god those gorgeous curls I miss - down passed his shoulders with his silver hoop earrings poking through, his beard perfectly trimmed, neat and subtle when he first started to grow it, and those beautiful blue eyes that light up my soul each time he lays them on me.
"Hi baby," I smile at him and he immediately rushes over to me and wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly and whispers "Hi"
"Um, could you just give us a few minutes?" Chris says after a few moments of him holding me and turns to whoever was with him and they nod and head back downstairs. Chris then closes the bedroom door and turns back to me.
"Ok, tell me that I'm not crazy here, but I could have sworn you... you looked different this morning... or..." He says as he walks over to me. His eyes wander over my body, landing at my chest lingering for a moment, and then flicking back to my eyes.
"No, I'm the same... I just, decided to change my make-up," I say and bite my bottom lip.
Holy shit he looks so fucking gorgeous.
He keeps his eyes on mine for a few moments and once again looks over my body, then catches my left hand noticing the tattoo on my ring finger had been completed. He takes my hand and then flicks his eyes back to mine.
"We're already married aren't we?" He asks.
"Yea," I say after a few moments.
"When are you coming from?" He asks glancing over my chest again.
"Uh, 1998" I breathe as his cologne fills my nostrils the closer he moves to me.
"So... are you here to marry me?"
" I am,"
"So when you come back, we aren't actually married then?" He asks and I can see the look of confusion take over him.
"Technically no, but you take me to city hall and we make it official then" I tell him.
"Do you at least come back in time for... tonight?" He raises his eyebrow at me.
"I do," I say remembering our wedding night. It was the best night of my life. "But just go easy on me ok? I'm probably not going to be exactly my happy self when I come back,"
He gives me a concerned look for a moment and moves closer to me. I didn't really want to get into specifics but I remember feeling incredibly heartbroken when I slipped. He then touches his forehead to mine and I close my eyes relishing in the scent of him. He then places his lips on mine starting gentle at first then swiping his tongue across my bottom lip and deepening the kiss. Without realizing it, my fingers make their way to his hair, lacing them through his curls, relishing in them as he draws me into him.
Dear fucking god, his lips feel so good.
He then pulls away from me and glances down at my chest again.
"See something you like?" I raise my eyebrow at him.
"Uh..." He trails off and I catch him biting his bottom lip. "You uh, you're fucking gorgeous in that dress," He adds flicking his eyes back to mine.
"We better get downstairs before people start to wonder what's going on up here," I sigh when he touches his forehead to mine wanting him to just make love to me right here, right now.
"Yea, you're right. Ok, I'll head down first," He says, places another kiss on my lips, then reluctantly pulls away from me and turns, adjusting himself and I giggle.
"You shush," He says flashing me a smirk before he disappears downstairs.
*****
Seattle Washington, April 2 1980
(Andi is 20, Chris is 15)
ANDI: "Shit! Jeezus What the Fuck?!" Chris yelps as I suddenly appear on the bathroom floor completely naked while he is in the clawfoot bathtub taking a shower. He covers himself but looks completely terrified at me while the water continues running over him.
"Andi, oh my God, um... shit," He says and turns the shower off while I try to gather myself together. I still feel incredibly dizzy. He quickly jumps out of the bathtub and grabs a towel from the rack to cover himself with and an extra one for me. He moves back over to me and nervously helps wrap me in a towel, giving me the shyest smile.
"Hi," He says sweetly. My god he's so young and his hair is so short.
"Um, hi," I say a little disoriented.
"Are you ok?" He asks.
"Yea, I think so," I say as he helps me sit up on the toilet. Suddenly he starts to giggle and which in turn made me start because I seriously did not mean to scare him, but I have to admit, that scream he let out was hilarious.
"Here, let me get you something um, I'll be right back," He says laughing and hurries out of the bathroom while I continue to giggle and situate myself a little better. A few minutes later he comes back wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants and one of his T-Shirts for me.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you," I giggle.
"It's ok, I figured you wanted me to scream like a girl at some point," He laughs as he crouches down so that he is pretty much eye level with me. He hands me over the T-Shirt and I quickly pull it on, flipping my curls out from underneath. It was pretty much a night shirt on me as it was long enough to come down to my mid-thigh.
"It's um... it's good to see you," He says with a small smile.
"You, too," I say as I look into his incredibly young features.
"I was um, just gonna hang out at home today so... wanna hang out with me?" He asks so cutely.
"Yea sure," I smile back at him. He then holds out his hand for me and I take it, and he leads me out into the living room part of the basement of his old house he lived in with his mom.
*****
ANDI: "So... what should I put on now?" Chris asks me as he crawls on his knees over to the stereo and stops the turntable.
"I don't know... I'm cool with whatever," I say as I lay down on the shaggy carpeted floor of his living room with my eyes closed my legs crossed at the ankle with my one arm supporting behind my head.
"Ok, um... do you wanna pick something?" He says as he looks back at me with those blue eyes.
"Mmmm... how about the Ramones?" I ask.
"Road to Ruin?" He smiles at me.
"Sure," I say and he immediately flips though his records, finds it and puts it on. He then moves back over to the coffee table, sitting in front of it and just beside me, grabs the joint that was burning in the ashtray and takes a few drags from it.
"You know, you never said when you're coming from," He says as he exhales a cloud of smoke.
"1990," I say quietly with my eyes still closed.
"Oh, so you're like what... how old?"
"20," I say quietly again.
"Huh..." He trails off and takes another drag.
"What?" I ask opening one eye at him.
"Nothing," He says and I close my eyes again. I can feel him studying me for a few moments and then he takes another drag.
"Andi, are you ok?" He asks. I guess he could tell that I really wasn't in the mood to be time travelling.
"Yea... yea I'm ok," I sigh wishing that I could tell him it's our wedding day and that all I want to do is just marry him and be with him but instead I ended up being here with him when he's only 15 and we can't do anything at all because that would be completely wrong, not to mention illegal if anything else. I always forget we're just friends in this time and as much as I love that he's my best friend, I just want to go back to my time.
But I love him so much. Fuck this fucking sucks. I hate myself so fucking much.
"Andi?" He asks again and I find myself trying to hold back my crying but I just couldn't help it. I cover my face with my hands and start to sob, feeling like an absolute idiot.
"Hey, no... no don't cry. Did I say something wrong?" He asks as he butts out the joint.
"No," I say quietly as I wipe my eyes and sit up. He moves even closer to me while I continue to wipe my tears away. He pushes my curls behind my ear, and cups my face in his palms looking at me with those blue eyes that are so young and have no idea of the life ahead of him.
"Andi, you can tell me anything you know that right?" He says and I'm suddenly reminded of his birthday in the park when he said the exact same thing, the exact same way only I really can't tell him everything right now. I then wrap my arms around him wanting him to hold me and feeling his arms slowly embrace me. Without him saying one more word, he hugs me tighter as I softly cry into his shoulder.
*****
Seattle Washington, September 21 1990
(Andi is 28, Chris is 26)
CHRIS: "... and Chris, do you take Andrea Marie O'Riden to be your lawfully wedded wife, in good times and in bad times, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others as long as you both shall live?"
"I do," I say without any hesitation as I slip the white gold wedding band on her finger, knowing it is the only time she will ever wear it.
"Alright, with the power bestowed upon me and by the state of Washington, I now pronounce you... Husband and Wife,"
I smile looking into those beautiful dark eyes of hers and knowing that she is an older version of herself, she is still so incredibly beautiful and everything that I ever dreamed about.
"...you can kiss your bride," the officiant says to me with a chuckle and I immediately lean down to her, pressing my lips to hers as she giggles against my lips for a moment, then cups my face in her palm. At that moment, everything stood completely still as I hear all of our friends and family laugh and cheer for us, applauding as I pretty much refuse to take my lips away from hers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I now introduce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Christopher John Cornell," The officiant says proudly though I still remain placing a few quick kisses on her lips while she giggles so sweetly as everyone continues to applaud us.
*****
Hours later, I sit in one of the large reading chairs in our living room as the last of our guests leave. Susan walks over to me while my hand grips my roots as I play with Andi's wedding band between my fingers.
"You need anything?" She says as she places her hand on my shoulder.
"No... just my wife back," I exhale and lay my head back on the chair, closing my eyes.
"I know... she'll come back. She always does," Susan gives me a small smile and I return it, glancing up at her. She then turns and makes her way to the front door giving me a soft wave as she says goodbye, and I am left alone to wait for my love to come back to me.
#Time After Time#fanfiction#time travel#alternate universe#also on ao3#also on wattpad#fantasy#grunge fanfiction#grunge#chris cornell#chris cornell fanfiction#soundgarden#soundgarden fanfics
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I want an 8th year fic where Harry is a really bad kisser. like. REALLY bad. Like, no coordination, spit all over the place, no-idea-where-he’s-going-with-this bad. And it makes sense because he’s never quite had the emotional education that makes him super attuned to other people’s needs? anYWAY when he and ginny break up they have a bit of a row and she wants to throw something at him just to THROW SOMETHING AT HIM because it’s hard to accuse the actual puppy dog who saved the goddamn world of anything -- ESPECIALLY WHEN HE’S SO WEEPY -- and so she just says it. She just says it, You are a bad kisser, Harry. You are a very, very, very, very bad kisser.
AND at first of course Harry is like how dARE YOU, and no YOU are, but then it gets stuck in his head and he starts asking around. First of all, do people even like kissing? It is a thing people like? It’s always felt kind of off and gross to him and cut to Hermione talking a million miles an hour, confiscating an empty classroom to draw out a full chart on a blackboard about the benefits/social history/beauty of make outs -- IF you want them. Harry nods furiously and is taking notes.
From there the research expands into a full-scale survey amongst the 7th and 8th years about the best snogger on Hogwarts grounds [on a scale from 0 to 10, 0 being ‘like being slapped about by the giant squid’ and 10 being ‘like a veela caressing the inside of your mouth but also you’re in fire’]. Entirely unexpectedly, WHAT A SURPRISE TO EVERYONE INVOLVED, Draco Ambrosius Giselda Anne Paulus Fucking Malfoy (named after all of his auntie’s favourite corgies) ends up the UNANIMOUS nr 1. Harry and Hermione, main conductors of said research, are appalled. Especially when subject #18 (Hannah Abbott) goes all glassy-eyed staring at the survey parchment and whispers “that mouth tho”, seemingly to herself.
Cut to Harry and Hermione holed up in the classroom with pictures of everyone from 7th & 8th year hanging on the walls with bits of red thread connecting them. Malfoy’s is in the middle, circled several times and surrounded by question marks. Harry looks frazzled, tie undone, and he’s reading through the case again. “It can’t be!” he says, incredulous, while Hermione laughs a little crazed and disbelieving. “It has to be,” she says, shaking her head. “By Jobe, it has to be.”
CUT TO HARRY inviting Draco A. G. A. P. F. Malfoy to an official interview where he shakily reads a pre-prepared statement off a paper while Hermione stands behind him and mouths with cuz she wrote it. And Draco’s like, “Ok let me get this straight. You want me to kiss you. To teach you how to kiss.”
“For science!” say Harry and Hermione at once.
Draco complies on a curriculum of 10 weeks ON the condition of the final result being conducted in the middle of the great hall -- DURING DINNER! -- in full view of the whole school. “I’m rehabilitating my image,” he says, picking a piece of lint off his robes. “It would be beneficial.”
Harry says “DEAL” and Hermione says “Uh” and they shake on it and so it happens that Draco and Harry set off on a vigorous 10 week curriculum starting off with lesson nr 1, peppermint spells. This is quickly followed by lesson the second, which is basically Draco pushing Harry up against a wall and hovering close without actually touching him. Almost brushing their lips, then not. Breathing against his neck, his jaw, the corner of his mouth -- then leaning away again, all until Harry is a frustrated shaking mess, trying to chase after Draco’s mouth if only to JUST GET IT OVER WITH. But it’s a no-go, it’s just Draco’s hand to his chest to hold him back saying, “Not yet.”
Lesson nr 3 is Draco’s fingers tracing the shape of his lips and hovering close and Harry opening his mouth and Draco putting the pad of a long finger to the flat of Harry’s tongue and watching, quiet, when Harry sucks at it. Lesson 4 is cancelled ‘cuz Draco is “BETTER THINGS TO GO GOODBYE” (announced by way of a howler), lesson 5 is the two of them in a broom closet and Draco’s hands like fists in his robs, brushing his lips to Harry’s, just brushing them, a total of five exCRUCIATING minutes and then leaning down to bite at his neck, which Harry needs a full hour after Draco leaves to recover from (”calm down calm down what is wrong with you Harry Potter CALM YOURSELF DOWN”). Lesson 6 Draco has him on his back in the grass behind the lake and licks the corner of his mouth, nips at his bottom lip, ignores it when Harry’s fingers slip between the buttons of his shirt to touch the skin of his stomach. Lesson 7 begins with Harry already wrecked and they haven’t even STARTED -- on the stairs to the owlery, Harry one step higher than Draco, Draco’s teeth hard the fading hickey from last time, Harry’s hands in Draco’s hair -- babbling, saying, “You’re never gonna kiss me, are you, God, you’re never gonna--”
And then Draco leans up, aligns, sucks Harry’s bottom lip into his mouth. Licks up, sucks the top lip, and has to catch what is BASICALLY a swooning Harry James Fucking Potter and they stand like that for a second, swaying, breathing hot and wet against each other’s mouths.
Lesson 8 Harry has had ENOUGH, goddamn it, and there are only two to go and they’re not nearly advanced enough and also SCIENCE, and so Saturday afternoon in the alleyway behind Puddifoots -- between a trashcan full of half-eaten cupcakes and a soggy cardboard box -- Harry has Draco up against a wall, opening his hot maddening (horrible, good-for-nothing) mouth with a shudder and a moan. It’s all tongue, at first, and Draco has to tell him to slow down, has to put his fingers to Harry’s lips, cradle his face, tilt it, show him how to pace it, how to breathe through it, how to suck on his tongue. How to start slow and end hot and heavy and shivering and being unable to pull away to cast a simple charm against the drizzle or even move the godDAMN inch it would take to take cover under the awning. Idiots. Now you’re wet. Now you’re soaking wet and still making out and it’s been a literal two hours. Great. Wonderful. Don’t come crying to me when you catch your death of cold, I swear.
Lesson 9 in the changing rooms after Quidditch practice, this time Harry’s back against the tiled shower wall, mouth swollen and skin tender from Draco’s stubble and his hands in Draco’s hair -- Draco’s gloved hands under his shirt, fingers shaky, palming his ribs. Harry whispering “God,” and “Fuck,” and “Come here,” even though Draco’s already there, as close as he can get.
Lesson 10 Draco spends sucking at Harry’s pulse point. Pulling at the skin, soothing it with his tongue, breathing over it -- first hot, then cold. They’re in the empty classroom, door locked, Harry up on one of the desks and Draco’s legs slotted between his. Harry rides his thigh, doesn’t mean to, can’t quite help himself, is embarrassed and bothered and hot and comes like that, with Draco’s lips wet to the shell of his ear.
The next day Harry’s showered for the occasion. He’s showered and shaved and conducts himself a little bit like a robot on his first day out saying things like, “Hermione, could you be so kind to pass the butter” in a flat and shaky voice. Hermione is, in fact, so kind as to pass the butter, which Harry immediately drops when Draco enters the great hall. Robot Harry stands and walks to face him, and says Hello and Okay and Okay (again) and Now? Shall we do it now? And Draco clears his throat like 30 times before he can say yes okay fine now.
And then they kiss. And Harry has come to know those lips better than he knows his own, and has come to like holding on by the small gap between the two buttons of Draco’s shirt -- right over his stomach -- and has come to anticipate the small gust of air that leaves Draco after that first press of lips. After they move to settle into place, cock their heads, slides their tongues together. Draco is the one who rushes into it now, and Harry is the one who gets to smile into it, gets to tell him to slow it down, gets to relax them into it.
Somewhere in the distance some silverware clatters. Three Hufflepuffs walk into each other. A 4th-year Ravenclaw drops the two glasses of juice she’d had in her hands, one of which was for her friend. It’s okay, because her friend was about bring a potato to her mouth, but that’s fallen off the fork anyway. Nearly Headless Nick gasps a quiet good lord and McGonnagal puts a hand over Mme Hooch’s eyes. Hermione is furiously taking notes.
Draco murmurs something into the kiss, something about having given them enough of a show, and Harry laughs, nips at his lips, at his chin, his jaw. “Hold on tight,” he says, and slips a hand around Draco’s waist. Dips him, dramatically, holds him in the cradle of his arm -- bends to kiss him again. Draco laughs against his mouth, only a little outraged, and Hermione adds some arrows to her chart.
Somewhere nearby Ginny mumbles a quiet damn, and, that’s one steep learning curve.
“It’s a steep something, alright,” is what Hannah Abbott has to say about that, glassy-eyed again.
Hermione’s now fanning herself with her notebook. “Good science,” she says, nodding quickly. “Very good science.”
#drarry#Drabble????#or whatever this is#a lot of words about boys necking#anyway SO I WANT THIS FIC#this is not the fic#this is just a tribute#m for making out#and maybe someone jazzing in their pantfs#MAYBE#really don't ask me I have NO IDEA what this is#Draco#Draco Ambrosius Giselda Anne Paulus Fucking Malfoy#(named after all of his auntie’s favourite corgies)
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- - - The Affectionner - - A Creepypasta Origin
Axel Coss, black haired boy, with a white streak of hair going down the middle of his front hair. Strange really, not many kids a white streak of hair. But, moving on from that, he lived with his mom, Cece Coss, his dad, James Coss, and his two brothers, Ames and A.J. Triplets of course, they did everything together . Play, draw, clean, and otherwise. They all five lived in St. George, Utah, on a empty land, with their house and field. After the triplets were born tho, James and Cece decided to move to Kansas. But that didn't work out well. So, they moved to Mississippi. Where the triplets are now 15. School was pretty easy and all, everyone loved them. Well, the majority of people in their school. Axel was really the quiet and calm one, Ames, the short tempered, and A.J, the awkward type. So, they all kinda just stuck together like a pod. A couple more and now they are all 25 , well...two are at least. Ames and Axel- now , A.J ... when he turned to the age of 22, he got kidnapped and was tortured to death. LITERALLY. Nobody was able to find him. Until 2 months later, after he died he was found in a rusty old grey building. Almost looking like it was gonna collapse. His face torn, ripped...his arm and legs broken. It was just a nightmare, but thats only the start of it.
Ames got pretty emotional afterwards - Axel didn't say much after as well. He sometimes stayed in his room for hours , not eating, sleeping, nothing really, just thinking. 4 months passed and later on, Cece and James had been kidnapped by the same guys from when A.J was. And the parents died as well. The kidnappers had been caught and taken to jail. Ames soon left Axel, and if he was being honest to himself..he was glad Ames left. After everything that happened Ames started to drink and abuse Axel. Thats when his life became even more of a living hell. Work got harder, the bills were too much, and nothing could really make him happy at this point. Except for thing. Stitching. He would stitch blankets, stuffed animals, and when he got a bad cut- sometimes even himself. That was the only thing...for now. He was like cursed or something. Thats when he got to point- - -"Your fired." "What?" his voice shuddered as he clicked his pen a few times. "Your..FIRED!! You always mess up on the cars when we are on break- and you are too quiet- good for nothing piece of roadkill!" his boss, Keith, screeched as he took a fair raise of the hand and slapped him across his ear to mouth-that somehow cutting him. I mean, he was holding a wrench so- that probably why. Axel gently ran his finger down his face from his ear to mouth and felt the blood rushing out. "O-okay, under-s-stood..sir." the male exhaled taking th scarf he brought in with him because it was usually cold in the warehouse. Axel slid it on and ran home. At this point it was too much. He sat on the dining room chair rethinking his entire existence. "Do i even matter?...Of course i don't- not to my parents, not to my boss, ...not to my family.." out of the corner of his eye- he spotted a small, brown and white gun. "Thats it..." he said to himself, with a faint- but crazy smile. He walked to the gun, and made sure it was loaded. The black haired male pointed it to his heart and shot himself. Blood splattering on the wall and carpet. No screams, no cries, no pain. With the last bit of energy that he had, he shot himself in the head...
"Hey! Ax! Over here!" his brother A.J shouted waving from the field. He smiled softly and ran to the other versions of him. "whats up?" he asked kneeling down to his height. "Why do you always wear that scarf? It kinda looks like its from the eighteen hundreds." Ames spoke lifting a piece of the scarf up from Axel's neck. "Well, this girl at school gave it to me." He laughed softly rubbing the back of his neck. "Ooooooo!- Axel has a crush! Axel has a cru-" Ames interrupted what A.J said by pushing him backwards- "Oh shut up, its probably just a present." he sighed. "Whatever you say, maybe you should ask her out! Whats her name??" A.J declared getting up and picking some dandelions from the ground and putting them in his hair. "O-Oh uhh, her name is Jane-." Axel slightly blushed. Ames sighed laying down with his hands behind his head. "Yup, just as i expected- good old Jane Arkensaw.. she's kinda a brat if you ask me." "H-hey! Thats not true, she's actually really nice if you get to know her." A.J looked confused. "Isn't she the one who hasn't been coming to school for some time?" Ames glared at A.J- "Yes, yes she is." Axel replied taking the dandelions out of A.J's hair and putting them in a row at the top of his black silk hair, seeing he was struggling to put them in since they just get falling out. "i hope she's okay tho..."
HIs eyes shot open and then rubbed his head. "just another stupid nightmare..." he calls them nightmares because, well to him they are just painful memories. He put on his boots and looked at the calendar, "Huh....Macy Stars...well, this should be fun." He sighed and git his scalpel, stitching utensils, needles, thread, and his scarf. Ax put the scarf on and walked out with his drawstring bag.
(This is the bag btw)
He followed the directions where it told him to go. Now, he would normally go on his own free will and time, but it was like Slender decided when she dies. He shrugged it off and soon arrived. "This must be it huh?" Ax sighed ruffling his own hair a bit so his scar would show as much. He thought if you had scars it makes you weak, can't take care of your self. Anyways, he quietly entered through her back door,which was unlocked. "Who leaves their back door unlocked at a time like this?" The medium hight male said looking at the sunset and took in a deep breath then exhaled. That sorta calmed him down. Axel walked up the stairs and looked in the bathroom to see her doing her makeup. He had to admit she was beautiful, but still worthless to him. She was in fact a girl that went to his school. "There we go!" She smiled at herself in the mirror and did a duck face as if the mirror was taking a photo of her. She was really nice to him and all, but he didn't care, he didn't care about any of the victims of his. "They don't deserve this love...." he shuddered under his breath. Axel walked in holding a scalpel and his eyes now looking fully gold. The brown faded away, no mercy in his look. Macy spotted him in the mirror and screamed backing up her back hitting the sink. "How did you get in my house?!" She screamed and reached for a small mirror of hers and hid it behind her. "That's a pretty stupid question to ask...more concerned how I got in your house...then how your gonna survive this? Well, I can answer that for you. Your not." He walked to her and slashed the scalpel across her face- giving her a scar as well, "OWW- YOU LITTLE-" She screamed in pain holding one side of her face and taking the mirror and trying to hit him with it. Axel sighed seeing her on the ground, she had fell. He bent down, and grabbed her arms- putting them together. "W-wh-What are you doing....?!" She asked in a shaky tone. No response, he softly held them tightly tighter and took out his stitching utensils and started to weave her arms together. "Ow stop please!!" She begged trying to kick him- but he was almost done with the stitching process. Is she really that weak, stitches don't even hurt that bad, it's like poking yourself with a sharp en or pencil. Macy looked down at her sewn arms and her eyes as wide as the galaxy. "I really don't like loud noises you know... so, if you would have just been quiet I wouldn't had have to do this.." he softly whispered in her ear and sew her mouth together. No matter how hard she tried to scream- it was all just muffled noises. "There we go. Now, if you don't mind me, I will proceed to kill you." Her eyes were wider now. Tears formed in her eyes and just looked down. "Aww.. come on now-" he started to say, lifting up her chin and wiping the tears away. "I'm just putting you out of your misery- we only live in this world to die, it just is stressful for me to see people in pain like this." That was a lie of course. He didn't care if his victims were hurt, physically or mentally.
He cut open her stomach and found her heart. "There it is..." he took another piece of thread and needle then started to stitch a X into her heart. Soon, a golden piece of light came out of her heart and Axel held his arm out-the light transferred to his arm and he sighed in relief. "That felt good," he thought then looked down at Macy. "You know, life is as valuable as your love.." he smiled then ripped her heart out in one light pull. Her body falling to the floor . He smiled softly and set the heart near her makeup. He always set the heart of theirs next to something they loved. "Now that that's done," he sighed getting up and grabbing all his things and heading out.
His appearance strikes so many people, sometimes he would pretend to be a human to lure in victims. He is a handsome, kind, boy- so it's pretty easy. But he doesn't do it often, only when there's nobody really good to kill.
He still has his black hair with the white streak. And of course, he wear a big grey scarf around his neck with a small black X at the bottom of the end of the scarf. A beige, sorta brown jacket. Sometimes he would wear a black zipped up leather coat, but that's only when it's really cold outside. Black pants with a chain going form the top right corner of his belt, to the lower half of his left side. Sorta like his scar. Black boots with a stitched in X at the bottom corner of both boots. Some witnesses have said he is a tall, around 5'5 , male. Some people say he takes in emotions, that's not really it tho...
See, what he can do is- he only takes peoples lives, who get a lot of love, and give a lot of love, and not really sad people. He would climb through their windows at night , or when they are alone. But in some cases he just breaks in wherever he can. Axel is a ghost, spirit, otherwise. But he doesn't really like doing all of that appearing in thin air thing. Ever since people have reported sightings of him, he tries his bets you stay of out sight. Axel will use his stitches to sew a big X into their heart so he can acquire all the love that has been given to the person, or, the love that they have to share. If they attempt to scream or fight back, he will sew their mouths closed- or arms and legs together. The reason he takes the affection from his victims is because, his parents gave him none- and when he was alive, nobody gave him any either. After some time, the affection runs out, so he needs to restock it every 2-4 days. If one of his victims try to give him affection before they die, he will go to their height smile at them , and say...
"Im afraid ...your love means nothing to me.."
He also has another famous quote which is..
"Life is as valuable as your love."
If he were to go on a mission with a creepypasta - his most compatible people would be
-Puppeteer
-Jason The Tomaker
-Eyeless Jack
- Laughing Jack
- Jane The Killer
- Sally
- Zero
- and Judge Angels
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Four Continents 2020 - Men’s FS: Group 3
I’ll update this post as the event happens
Brendan Kerry
I don’t get to see much of Brendan bc Australia has such a small fed
This is a dapper outfit, but I don’t care much for the choreo or music choice
Good attempt on that first quad though
Today’s program seemed a little...subdued?? It wasn’t over the top in performance, but he did what was necessary to get the job done/have a clean rest of the program
Han Yan
DUDE i haven’t seen him in so long
i also keep forgetting he’s the same age as me alsdkfj;alskdf
he’s had a rough bout of it during the past couple seasons - it’s been painful to watch
CLEAN TRIPLE AXEL, great flow to it
oh god i’ve missed him in gr8 condition so much
he’s really fighting for it tn
god why is my stream giving me a hard time - han deserves my full attn
the suave “puts hands in pockets” choreo sequence
god this choreo keeps giving me goosebumps
i’m so proud of him??? he really went out there and said “you thought i was done? no !! i’m still a contender for the beijing 2022 team !!!”
Camden Pulkinen
I haven’t watched much of Camden since he graduated to seniors - let’s see !! please don’t give me jump anxiety
major step out - sigh camden p l s
that was a beautiful triple axel tho, okay he’s keeping it together
his spins are a bit on the slower side and his bottom leg isn’t always completely straight
he’s doing well - but i will note that he doesn’t quite project up to the top row; it feels like he’s in his own bubble - hopefully this continues with time
wow he really squeaked out that triple axel combo
that lutz was so tilted - b o y
oof you can tell that he’s starting to get tired bc his landings are becoming kinda shaky
okay !! you did what you came here to do <3
someone threw him the smallest pikachu, splendid
Kazuki Tomono
i’m so ready for west side story/roxanne
he hung onto that first jump - come on
god i’m literally holding my breath every time he jumps
okay, give me that face-ography during the roxanne theme
i love kazuki’s expressiveness in this program - he really sang “maaaad”
ugh he popped into a double sal - that’s gonna cost him points
his jumps feel less crazy to me overall though, but he does sometimes need to wind his body around to end the jump
i’m living for him going wild during the vocal portions of the roxanne theme - he’s really fighting for it
congrats kazuki, you made me clap in the middle of my apartment at 12:10 AM
Tomoki Hiwatashi
This outfit literally makes me think of Yuzu’s Romeo and Juliet wut - which was inspired from some Johnny Weir costume right
tomoki’s lines are really elegant but also full of energy, which i appreciate
His jumps rotate hella fast
Really hung onto that triple axel landing despite the huge bite coming from his toe pick
his split jump is even more overextended than jason brown’s - wild
there are just so many random leaps in this step sequence - pretty, but so many
(cries in triple axel fall)
emergency combo successful ?
ANOTHER split jump?? tomoki we get it you have flexy hips and legs
ooh cantilever (kinda rushed but oh well)
i don’t quite get the ending pose (that he almost fell out of) but okay
Nam Nguyen
I haven’t watched Nam in a hot sec (since his...somewhere over the rainbow program?)
imo his jumps got really shaky after leaving TCC and/or puberty, so we’ll see how he is today
boy there’s so much snapping choreo pls chill
he has so much spunk today, and he seems to be enjoying himself on the ice
i type this and then he immediately pops and does a single axel god nam why
lost some momentum on that second jump in the combo
god every time he smiles and does nice arms/hands in the step sewuence it makes me smile :’)
wow nam really has grown/matured so much since that shaky “somewhere over the rainbow” program - i’m here for it !!! he used to have one bad jump and then the whole program would fall apart
he’s turning up the performance for this last music cut and i’m HERE FOR IT
he should be proud of what he put out there today - if we just ignore the single axel as;ldfksjadf;
Great job group 3 !!
#brendan kerry#han yan#camden pulkinen#kazuki tomono#Tomoki Hiwatashi#nam nguyen#mens#figure skating#team australia#team china#team usa#team japan#team canada#four continents 2020#it is i a simple human#time to ramble
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Cas and Izzy
A/N: This is short and probably shitty... I wanted to write some Dad!Shawn, but I wasn’t as inspired for this as I expected. Edited kinda quickly and shitty. Hope you like it tho!
Pairing(s): ShawnxReader
Word count: 766
Warnings: None! Pure flufff
"Wait, but, dad, there aren't enough letters for all of the keys!"
"I know, bud, that's why one row of letters comes back. Look, it starts with C here, and then you go from D to E, F, G, A, B, and start again. I always remember that D is this one here, between two black keys."
"But what are the black keys?"
"... You know what? We'll get on that later, let's start with just the white ones."
Soft sounds of the piano being played by my husband filled the house. He was teaching our eldest, Castor, how to play piano. The boy has been begging his father for ages to teach him, but Shawn has never gotten around to doing it. Today, on one of his rare days off lately, I forced him to spend time with his son and give the little guy some lessons.
"Iz, can you get my phone?"
"Of course mummy!" The little girl bounces up from get chair. When she returns, I pull up my camera, filming my two boys behind the instrument.
"Mum?"
"Yes baby?"
"Why won't daddy teach me to make music?"
I crouch down on my knees next to her, wiping away the little wrinkle between her full brows. "I think it's because you haven't asked him, pretty. I'm sure if you asked him, he'd want to teach to how to play. Which instrument do you like?"
"Guitar!"
"Then, when dad is done teaching Cas, you can ask him, yeah?"
"Okay mummy! Can I show you the drawing I made now?"
"Of course, hun, just let me finish this up." I tell her, typing the last bit of my work review, and make sure to save it before exiting the program.
Ismene all but pulls me along to her room, fishing the paper out from between the thousands of others she'd make daily. This one is a drawing of what seems to be her, in the middle of the page, standing on a black platform and a lot of little yellow and white spots around her.
"Is that you looking at the sky? It's very pretty, baby."
"No, mama, look! It's me singing for a hundred people, just like daddy does!"
I realize what she meant to accomplish with this: she has this little black stick that's supposed to be a mic in her hand, and the spots are fans with their flashlights on. It's beautiful, even if she painted it a little messily. That might've made it even better.
"Do you wanna do the same thing as daddy then? Sing for a lot of people?"
"Yes! That's why I want him to teach me!"
"Why don't you show him this then? I'm sure he'll love it. And if you ask him, I know dad won't mind teaching both you and Cas to play piano."
"But I don't want to play piano, mom. I wanna play guitar."
"Hey, I'm sure he will teach you, but you can't keep on asking me again and again. Go downstairs and ask dad, okay?"
She nods, curls bouncing on top of her head, and dances down the staircase. "Daddy!!" I walk after her without a rush, listening to the conversation unfolding in the music room.
"Yes baby?" Shawn asks, turning around, half listening to Cas playing Little Star and half focused on his little daughter.
"Can you teach me to play guitar?"
"Of course I can!"
"I have an idea!" Our son chimes in, just as I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Can you teach us the same song, and we can play it together!"
"Sure bud, sounds good! Can you continue practicing with this song, then I will get a guitar with Izzy, and I'll be right back, yeah?"
Yes, Shawn has so many guitars he has one room filled with them. Only his favourite guitars and the ones he needs daily are in the music room.
"Hmmm." The boy nodded, turning away from his father and placing his fingers back on the keys. Izzy squealed in delight, and latched onto her fathers' arm as he carried her across the hall.
"Hey Shawn, I've got to go grocery shopping. Can you handle these two for a while?"
"Sure hun, go ahead. Love you," he muttered, placing a quick kiss on top of my head.
"Love you too," Was my response, and just before I left, while I put on my shoes, I heard their voices, the piano and guitar on the background, and I couldn't help but feel extremely happy and content with my children, my husband, and my life in general.
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Jaquelin Taylor Row
1108-1112 Capitol Street
Built, 1845
Demolished, 1938
[HOR] — looking towards 1108-1112 Capitol Street — note Old City Hall at left
Fie upon the modern indelicacies of attending to business!
[HOR] — detail of 1112 Capitol Street
This row of three houses was built in 1844-45 by Jaquelin P. Taylor on the site of the modest frame dwelling of Jacob Cohen. Mr. Taylor had come to Richmond as a young man from Orange County, and as a large importer of dry-goods he had built up a considerable fortune. In his obituary notice he is said to have been one of the oldest and most respected citizens of Richmond, whose name was synonymous with the word probity. Executor of William Barret, he was in process of winding up his friend’s affairs when he died suddenly in January, 1872, just after celebrating his seventy-fifth birthday.
(VCU) — 1889 Baist Atlas Map of Richmond — Plate 5 — showing the occupation of Jacquelin Taylor Row by the T. R. Price Estate and the Richardsons
The two easternmost houses in the row remained the property of Mr. Taylor’s heirs as late as 1910. He left no children, but his wife’s family, the Richardsons, who during Mr. and Mrs. Taylor’s lifetime had occupied the middle house, later moved into the one at Twelfth and Capitol, which had been the Taylors’ own home. The Misses Jane and Harriet Richardson and their two brothers are remembered as "characters" by all those who knew them. One brother, who was very tall, was often seen in the Capitol Square, feeding the squirrels, with whom he was so gentle that they ate out of his hand without fear.
(Find A Grave) — Judge Beverley Tucker Crump
The Misses Richardson were unadjusted to such modern indelicacies as ladies attending to business, so Judge Beverley Crump, who had charge of their affairs, had to bring them what money they needed in cash every month: going to a bank would have been quite out of the question for them. Mr. Jaquelin P. Taylor II, a great-nephew and namesake of the builder of these houses, recalls that when he came to Richmond as a youth he had to pay regular Sunday visits to the Richardsons and that he put up with the inevitable attendance at church for the sake of the excellent dinner that always followed.
(Chronicling America) — advertisement, Richmond Times — Sunday, May 12, 1895
The westernmost house was sold in 1851 to Thomas R. Price, a leading citizen of his day. In 1833 he had founded the well known dry-goods store of Thos. R. Price and Company, of which he was head at the time of his death in 1868. Under various names, Fourqurean and Price, Fourqurean, Price and Temple, etc. this concern survived well into the twentieth century. Mr. Price’s son Edward is remembered by Mr. Munford (and by this writer) as an usher at St. Paul’s over a long period of years. "A man of patrician appearance and of courtly manner, Mr. Price gave distinction to the old Church he so faithfully attended and served."
(Lee's Lieutenants, Army of Northern Virginia, Inc) — Johann August Henrich Heros von Borcke
Major von Borcke, the German officer on Jeb Stuart’s staff, tells in his memoirs of a visit to the Prices in this house in 1884. He had cared for Channing Price, when the latter was mortally wounded at his side, and ever since the Civil War the family had cherished von Borcke’s sword, which had barely escaped destruction when Mr. Price’s store was burned.
(Fandom) — Ford's Hotel in the 19th century
The Price family owned No. 1108 up to 1903, when it was bought by Gilbert K. Pollack, a member of the City Council who built himself an office on Broad Street. In 1911 and 1912 all three houses were sold to the City. During the next twenty-five years a game of battledore and shuttlecock went on between City and State for possession of the site, known (from Ford’s Hotel which had stood to the west of the Taylor houses) as the Ford Lot.
January 2020 — the former eastern extent of Capitol Street
Meanwhile the houses were occupied by various worthy organizations, notably by the Juvenile Court (which had its beginnings there), the Tuberculosis Association, and the Academy of Arts, the last two organizations remaining, respectively, in 1112 and 1108-10 until the buildings were about to be demolished over their heads. It was finally decided that the projected State Library was to occupy the site, and in 1938 they were pulled down.
January 2020 — former Leigh Street Baptist Church
Together with Linden Row, the Jaquelin Taylor houses were the finest example of the rows of houses built during the ’forties and ’fifties. In some respects these were superior to Linden Row. The porches, with their delicate Corinthian columns, and the fences with pineapple posts like those of the contemporary Norman Stewart and Barret houses were particularly beautiful. Mr. Taylor’s own home, 1112 Capitol, was further adorned with an exquisite iron balcony on the Capitol Street side.
[HOR] | January 2020 — comparison of the fencing at Jaquelin Taylor Row and the former Leigh Street Baptist Church
During the demolition, the corner house was found to have a curious and interesting dome above the well of the stair, which was a continuous spiral from the bottom to the top of the house. When the houses were demolished the fence was given to Leigh Street Baptist Church, where it is now installed, and the balcony and front entrances to the Valentine Museum. The balcony is now in the garden of the Museum. [HOR]
January 2020 — looking towards 1108-1112 Capitol Street
As Ms. Scott relates, this block of Capitol Street would change radically in the wake of the new State Library that replaced both Ford’s Hotel and the Jacquelin Taylor Row in 1938. That it is a handsome art deco building in its own right compensates somewhat for the loss of the older houses. Auld lang syne.
Things were changed again in 1997 when the library relocated to its third location at 800 East Broad Street. The old location transformed into the Patrick Henry Executive Office Building, and this end of Capitol Street was filled in to make a driveway for the Commonwealth’s fleet of gubernatorial SUVs.
(Jaquelin Taylor Row is part of the Atlas RVA! Project)
Print Sources
[HOR] Houses of Old Richmond. Mary Wingfield Scott. 1941.
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