#anchor tattoo my beloved

[fulane-de-tal]

ugh i need to get money for a beautiful tattoo and not be trying to purchase typefaces for my beloved machine

#je parle #i want to get an accordionist tattooed #playing my accordion ofc #my beloved sonola is my anchor to stability i adore her #ughhhhh money

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Morning Things (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: It’s another morning in Eddie’s room, just a slice of peace before you have to face the world.

AN: Found an old Eddie fic in my OneDrive back when I still fancied him/liked Stranger Things lmaoo, might as well post it.

Reader is gender neutral, no use of Y/N.

Masterlist

You didn’t realise that you were being greedy when you first woke up. As you rolled over to your back, you found your body was bundled up in the double duvet, which you sent sprawling out as your legs and arms stretched out across the span of the boxspring bed. A distinct dip cradled your head, between the two pillows that assigned sides to you and your boyfriend. Cracking open your eyes revealed the ceiling - the only dull wall in this room. 

It was like rolling to see the posters popping off their paper roused your other senses. You felt the entire duvet around you with no tug of war from Eddie to retrieve his fair share. No contact was made no matter where your hands reached. 

The twang of a beloved electric guitar caught your ears. No amp powering its usual timbre, its strings pinged against Eddie’s calloused fingertips before pausing. The man was down to his boxers, his instrument balanced across a bare thigh, and a sleeveless shirt hung off his shoulders to expose most of his tattoos to the break of dawn. Eddie placed his pick between his lips, swapping it with the pen already in there so he could scribble in his song book in front of him. He hummed the tune as he scribbled. He began mumbling then some semblance of lyrics emerged through half-closed lips before he flipped back to his pick to strum again. Once he’d repeated the tune, he experimented with a new sequence but winced, shaking his head with his mop of hair following behind.

Groggily, you managed to say, “Morning.”

The second Eddie laid his eyes on you, he dropped the pen from between his teeth, threw off his guitar, and dropped his pick onto his open song book. 

“Oh, I was enjoying that,” you complained pathetically.

Completely disregarding what you said as he crawled over you, Eddie’s nose nudged up against yours. 

“Good morning, sweet thing,” he grinned whilst he balanced over you. 

After stretching up, you rested your arms around his neck and anchored Eddie into the bed, half laying atop you. 

“What were you playing?” You sighed against his neck. 

“Just mucking around, throwing some bits I’ve been thinking of together. Seeing if they mesh.”

“And do they?”

“They’re starting to align.” Eddie rolled over onto his back, bringing you with him as he gestured above you, “I gotta encourage them to get their shit together a little more before I can show you.”

“Can’t fucking wait,” you said into the ticklish tips of his curls. 

Eddie kissed the crown of your head, “You gonna get up?”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“You inspire me no matter where you are. From lying here in my bed,” He waved grandly to wear his feet almost hung off the end, “To perched at the end of it.” You let out a close-mouthed giggle, invoking Eddie to do the same and allow those dimples to peep out of his cheeks, his hand crossing behind your back and squeezing you as he said, “So, you got places to be?”

“Nowhere but next to you.” 

“Does that include the bathroom?”

“You wanna shower together again, after what happened last time?”

“I was thinking more like pooping together.”

Hiding in his neck again, you groaned, “Eddie.”

“I feel like we’re at that stage in our relationship.”

“Nothing like communal shitting to inspire your next big hit, I guess,” and you pushed up a little, “Wanna stay here a bit longer first.” To sweeten the deal, you squashed his left cheek with your lips, smacking them loudly when you slumped back down into him. 

Accepting the bribe, Eddie tightened his grip around you and said serenely, “I can make time for that.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #my writing #wc: <1k+ #r: gn

[vs120shound]

She retired from the biz a few years ago, moved 3 states away, competed for Cover Girl status for an "ink" publication. There's life beyond SF for Quinn yet she's still probably a Marlboro 100s Girl!

NEW SERIES!

VIDEO OF THE WEEK 🚬 🚬 (SF HALL OF FAME) 🚬 NUMBER 6 IN THE SERIES!

For the Week of 100223-100823

★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ | Four-and-a-Half "Stars"

From vs120shound staff | ★★★★★ (16 total: L)

Tri-Media 9-Post, 44- Pack (Super-Megapost)!

Quinn from USA Smokers!

"No Menthol Girl here. This is a Marlboro 100s Gal! . . . Sure, she is pretty, very much so. But she’s as cute as a button, and then some. Sexy as a woman can be, to the order of being adult industry worthy. Wonderful smoking style, confident and alluring. Heavy smoker. Firmly addicted. Playful. Funny. Authentic. A joy. A treat. A treasure to behold. Understands and appreciates the smoking fetish. Proud of her habit. Enjoys the ritual of smoking. Acknowledges smoking is an identifying part of her personae. Girl-next-door look with a Goth flavor. Complimentary, exciting, trendy, fashion-setting, attention-grabbing and colorful outfits. Into tattoos big time. Excelled in partner shoots with other SF models.

"Left the website’s stable of SF models when she moved from Arizona to the Seattle, Wash. area, saying good bye to the SF World in 2021. Our loss. Her run was sensational for as long as it lasted. SF Hall of Famer. Smoking Goddess. A dream come true who walks, talks, loves and smokes. For that, we are grateful. Amen!"

. . . well, the Lead Introduction (what you are reading here is the secondary Intro) was lifted nearly verbatim -- with minor edits -- from the January 14, 2023-released post announcing tattoo-loving Quinn as our Number 3 selection for the "unofficial" official Top-25 all-time favorite SF models list distributed on vs120shound! Not much more to add other than we have no idea of the combined number of SF models/SF entrepreneurs/Social Media Smoking Darlings among the the three administrators and the 10 staffers for the ole VS120s Hound SF-Content Shop that have been seen -- viewed, glanced at, studied and downloaded over the years! So to say that we collectively rate only Ariel/Arielle "Skittlez Cano" (No. 2) and Laura from Australia (Snaps Random) as more beloved is saying a lot!

Hope Quinn is healthy, happy and safe in Greater Seattle with even more grand "ink" on her sexy little body! Know she's still smoking cigarettes, still probably with Marlboro 100s. And be prepared for this realization: Soon, if not already at the threshold, Quinn will be approaching the Big 3-Oh (30 y.o.). She must be in her late-20s by now! Ah, how enticing, the vision of a slightly more mature Quinn!

Quinn, No. 3 All-Time SF Model, The Media:

As announced on vs120shound in January 2023 for "The List!"

(In order) . . . GIFs (2); previous posts within our network of 4 blogs/vlogs/webpages (8); Instagram videos and "Reels" (5); links (contained within text) for Instagram videos (2); YouTube videos (2); photos from www.usasmokers.com and Facebook.com/usasmokers (9); anchor picture, à la Solène post mode (1) . . . 3 centerpiece photos used as "section breakers!"

GIFs (Graphics Interchange Format) of Quinn!

From de-activated smk-images on February 14, 2022 . . .

From USA Smokers website . . .

Previous Posts Featuring Quinn within our network

From vs120shound on January 31, 2023 (in a compilation video with stablemates Preslie and Amber; Quinn leads off) . . .

From vs120shound on January 14, 2023 . . .

From vs120shound on November 22, 2022 . . .

From vs120shound on November 21, 2022 (digitally-enhanced through AI by Juniorjunior from Smoking Fetish Kingdom) . . .

From vs120shound on July 29, 2021 . . .

From vs120shound on January 8, 2020 . . .

From vs120shound on March 13, 2019 . . .

From vs120shound on July 31, 2018 . . .

Quinn exhaling with a tight cone!

Social Media!

From Instagram@usasmokers on July 25, 2019 . . .

From Instagram@usasmokers on April 30, 2019 . . .

From Instagram@usasmokers on March 10, 2019 . . .

From Instagram@usasmokers on November 25, 2018 . . .

From Instagram@usasmokers on September 23, 2018 . . .

Links to some IG "reels"

From Jan 6 2020: https://www.instagram.com/reel/B6_74_9lYQJ/

From December 24, 2018:

Quinn posing with a Saratoga 120s!

From YouTube!

From YT's "Sensuality Soft" webpage in 2020 . . .

From YT's "Smoking Girls" webpage in 2020 . . .

Photos of Quinn!

From www.usasmokers.com and Facebook.com/usasmokers . . .

Quinn dangling a lit Marlboro 100s -- our anchor piece!

#SF #Hot women who love smoking cigarettes #Smoking cigarettes #Smoking #The Video of The Week (Honorable Mention)! #The Video of The Week (HoF) . . . Hall of Fame! #Quinn from USA Smokers (Arizona - U.S.A.! #Instagram #Youtube

[punk-pandame]

nart boys for tdov 🏳️‍⚧️

trans men of color my beloveds 💖

ID in alt text and below cut

support a trans artist and writer this tdov: buymeacoffee | patreon

[ID: a digitally drawn Naruto fanart. From left to right: Rock Lee, the tallest. He is wearing his spandex suit, rolled down with the sleeves tied around his waist. A red waistband is visible underneath, and the top half of his body is naked save for a trans flag wristband. He has anchor shaped top surgery scars with darker nipples than his medium skin tone. He had an undercut beneath his signature bowl cut. He is visibly ripped with six pack abs, pecs, and muscled arms. He is turned toward the rest of the group and leaning with one elbow on Kiba. Kiba is the shortest. He has brown skin with darker brown hair, beard, mustache, chest hair, happy trail, and arm hair. He is a beefy build with visible muscles and a healthy layer of fat. His arms are crossed over his chest, revealing a transgender symbol tattooed on one arm along with the red Inuzuka clan markings on his cheeks. He is wearing baggy blue jeans with a trans flag safety-buckle style belt. He has aged double incision top surgery scars and a large, aged C-section scar that cuts through his belly button. His jeans are hanging low, showing green checked pattern boxers underneath. Next to him are Naruto and Sasuke. Naruto is wearing a trans flag binder and bright orange shorts. He has his iconic whisker marks. He is kissing Sasuke. Both of their eyes are closed, and two of their arms intertwined with their free hands by their sides. Their hands are clasped gently. Both of them have black nail polish on, with Naruto's shaped into sharp claws and Sasuke's cut into normal, short squares. Naruto has a bit of ginger in his blonde hair, but the stubble along his jaw is very red. He has a mix of blonde and red hair in a faint, well-groomed happy trail. Sasuke is shirtless, showing aged double incision top surgery scars and a fresh hysterectomy scar. They are both fit; Naruto has a bit more fat, and Sasuke is a bit taller and broader. Sasuke is wearing black leather pants with a red belt. The belt buckle is silver and reads "T4T". A strap-on harness rises from under his pants and over his hips, and he has a prominent bulge from it. The background is a splattered lavender pattern. End ID]

#tdov #punky drawns #trans sasuke #trans naruto #trans sns #trans lee #trans rock lee #trans kiba #naruto #sasuke #sns #rock lee #lee #kiba #nsf uu #<<ish #i wanted to draw the ladies too but im so tired and its almost 11pm here so might have to wait im sorryyyyy #real trans boy hours #t4t #i feel like just seeing strap and a bulge isnt that bad but we also have tiktok puritans so like. idk

[finexbright]

What are your favorites of Larry’s many matching tattoos?

my absolute favourite is definitely the anchor/rope combo because i love how delicately it sits on both of their wrists, but also for obvious reasons the rose/dagger is beloved too

[cryopathiic-a]

'What is this?! Why can't I break this rope..?!'

█▃▆▃█▃▆▃█▃▆▃█▃▆▃█▃█

Whatever that shrine maiden did.. he couldn't undo it. That sacred binding, or whatever she called it, had fully immobilized Akaza. The strange red rope bound the Upper Moon at the wrists and ankles. Anchoring him to the ground, even preventing him from wriggling into the sanctuary of the shade just off to the side of this abandoned place of worship. How was this possible? All that old woman did was utter some words when he got too close to the grounds of an old shrine..! Suddenly he was here. Stuck on a cobblestone foundation, straining against moss and the dirt of holy grounds left to the mists of time for at least a few decades. Pink hair and tattooed cheeks now speckled with dirt and flecks of moss turned loose with their struggle.

"Damn it..!! Shit..!!" All Akaza could do was seethe as the veins beneath his skin bulged and strained with their knuckles beneath turned blue tattoos pale with white-hot frustration at his current situation. Bound and despite all of his efforts, unable to sever the thick rope that now felt as if it was burning the Upper moon with the tension and force behind their attempts to break free.

There was only an hour or so until daybreak. Akaza was fully exposed in a forest where no human dared to tread now that word of a demon had likely gotten out, and the rope felt as if it was made of lead. This was certainly not good.

Each Kizuki has their respective use and purpose. Handpicked by their Lord for their unique talents, the task of finding that elusive bloom is shared among them — but some have methods much less refined than others. And knowing that, Dōma didn't second-guess what might have happened to his beloved friend. Akaza was reknowned for his temper after all. This time, he just picked the wrong place and time.

And, oh, his night was about to get much, much worse. Because, unfortunately for him, the smell of his despair had drawn in a certain vulture.

A ruffle from above as branches rock and shed oak leaves on the disgraced third moon. And then—

❝ Hey there! ❞ Dōma's face comes dangling down, just inches apart from Akaza's nose. ❝ Would you look at that! We ended up bumping on each other again... ❞ Coincidentally. ❝ I must say, Lord Akaza, I did not expect to find you near this sort of establishment! Have you decided to revisit you opinions on religion, perhaps? ❞ Upper Two's face presses into a gleeful smile at that.

And he hops off; landing gracefully with fabrics floating around his form. After patting down on his hakama, Dōma pulls some stray white gold away from his face and turns to his fellow Kizuki with a grin; a grin that the trained eye would immediately flag as quite devious.

❝ Oh, that looks rather painful, huh? ❞ A lavender claw is first pointed to the restraints... and then Dōma takes that pivotal step too close to the other. His finger is distinctly icy when it traces down the veins littering Akaza's forearm and digs under the bind. That little wedge would be enough to increase the pressure for a moment, wouldn't it? Especially when that claw is flicked away, leaving the rope to lash an already reddened wrist. Dōma's face wrinkles with a cutesy smile.

❝ You poor thing... how did you manage to end up like this, huh? It's really unwise to be exposed out here, you know. The sun will be up soon. ❞ The tone grows somber as he directs Akaza's attention to the dawning light. That makes things urgent. Well. It's not often that Dōma would come upon an opportunity to make his best friend plead for his aid like that. And, in the gleam of his eye, it becomes evident that he intends to milk it.

❝ Oh well. You should be more careful next time, Lord Akaza! Although, I'm sure you'll figure this out by yourself, right? You don't seem to need my help. ❞ He explains, before waving the other off and turning to walk away —

He wants to hear it.

#(( LAUGHING MANIACALLY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAH )) #fruitanddarkness #♛ ¦ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇꜱ༺ answered

[wiltingwoes]

You recall how your lover once loved marionettes.

You’re well aware it’s been CYCLES since his death. You’re both IMMORTAL AND DESTINED TO WANDER THIS ACCURSED REALM AS PURGATORY ANYHOW. Why not make the most of it? Why not DO THE RIGHT THING AND ERADICATE ALL THAT DEFIED YOU AND HIM?

Ever since he informed you of how he PERISHED, you couldn’t help but feel a NAUSEATING TWINGE OF ANGER SETTLE IN THE PIT OF YOUR BELLY. SOMEONE PUT THEIR DISGUSTING HANDS ON HIM AND TOOK HIS LIFE. HE WAS INNOCENT. He was not like you — no, you were not innocent. You sought out immortality and accepted the CONSEQUENCES. He was INNOCENT AND DIDN’T DESERVE TO DIE IN SUCH A CRUEL MANNER. If you could personally FIST FIGHT THE GODS FOR SUBJECTING HIM TO SUCH INJUSTICE, you would TAKE GREAT PLEASURE IN SKINNING THE CELESTIALS ALIVE.

So you made a vow to yourself. You will seek out the DIRTY PERPETRATOR YOURSELF IN THE AFTERLIFE AND DELIVER HIM JUSTICE. THE ANCHOR OF VEXATION AND FURY WOULD NOT REST UNTIL IT WAS SATIATED, AFTER ALL. Every time your eyes gazed over the DEEP LACERATION ON HIS STOMACH, that feeling only AMPLIFIED IN RAGE.

You never bothered to notify him of your CONNIVING PLANS. No, you wanted to SURPRISE him — surprises are always FUN! Especially when the thought of him grinning and PRAISING you brought a sensation of GREAT EUPHORIA. Yes, the two of you will DINE LIKE ROYALTY AFTER THE LOUSY FUCK REPENTS HIS CRIMES.

Eventually, you found the whereabouts of the CRIMINAL underground. You took SUCH IMMENSE JOY IN STALKING THE SHADOWS, EAVESDROPPING ON EVERY LITTLE MOVEMENT AND WAITING UNTIL HE WAS IN SOLITUDE TO STRIKE. Pale hands SHOT out, ENCOMPASSING THE MAN’S FACE BEFORE DRAGGING HIM INTO THE INKY DARKNESS. THROWN UP AGAINST THE WALL OF AN ABANDONED SHED, THE FRIGHTENED MAN COULD MAKE OUT THE GHOSTLY GLEAM OF HER EYES IN THE DARK — AND THE TOOLSET OF A MARIONETTE KIT.

He did not DESERVE an explanation. After all, he never bothered to GRACE YOUR BELOVED WITH ONE WHEN HE GUTTED HIM AND LEFT HIS BODY TO ROT. A thick piece of duct tape SLAPPED over the STRUGGLING man’s mouth, you got to work immediately — GIDDILY. Thin pieces of sea fishing lines wrapped around each limb as you kept your heel PRESSED FIRMLY INTO HIS CHEST TO PREVENT HIM FROM WRITHING AWAY — THE FUCKING MAGGOT. You hum a tune that you shared with your beloved. One that the two of you waltzed to under the pale moonlight.

Bernadette…you are my liberty…I celebrate the day that you changed my history…

The thought of him fills you with a DETERMINED GLEE. You can’t help the CHESHIRE GRIN from spreading over your painted lips, irises inflating from UNRESTRAINED EXCITEMENT. Once the lines were FASTENED TAUT, you then lean up and RELISH IN THE MAN’S TERROR ONE LAST TIME BEFORE HE WOULD BE TRANSFORMED. Tears spill down his cheeks, BEGGING EYES BURNING HOLES INTO THE BACK OF HER SKULL — but she does not RELENT. Why should she? He never gave her beloved MERCY. He never thought twice about his actions. HE KILLED WHAT BELONGS TO HER. HE IS THE REASON HER BELOVED IS SUFFERING.

IT WAS ONLY NATURAL TO DO SUCH A HEINOUS CRIME BACK.

Lifting the strings tied to both of his arms, Betty then YANKS THEM AS HARD AS SHE CAN WITH HER INHUMAN STRENGTH, HISSING A NOISE OF CONTENTMENT AS THE SOUNDS OF MUSCLES TEARING FROM THE PRESSURE FILLED THE WAREHOUSE. THE MAN MUFFLED A SCREECH OF AGONY, THE LINES CREATING HEAVY KNOTS AT THE BASE OF HIS ARMS. SLOWLY, SHE CONTINUES TO PULL AND YANK THE LIVING PUPPET, GRADUALLY RIPPING AWAY AT SKIN, MUSCLE, AND TISSUE. Once satisfied with his arms, she REPEATS THE PROCESS ON HIS LEGS, FORCING THE SET OF FOUR LIMBS TO BECOME NOTHING MORE THAN NUMB PIECES OF A DOLL’S FIGURE.

Oh, life and death…will always lead us to love and regret…

JERKING HIS BLUBBERING HEAD UPWARDS BY THE LINE AROUND HIS THROAT, Betty INGRAINED THIS MEMORY IN HER BRAIN LIKE A TATTOO. She then PULLED AND YANKED AS FAR BACK AS SHE COULD AS IF REIGNING IN A HORSE, LAUGHING AS THE PRESSURE CAUSED HIS EYEBALLS TO SHOOT STRAIGHT OUT OF THEIR SOCKETS. BLOOD SPLURTED FROM EACH FACIAL ORIFICE, CAKING HIS BODY IN HIS OWN BODILY FLUIDS.

A MARIONETTE. A FULL SIZED MARIONETTE.

As the man went LIMP, Betty then dusted herself off and leaned in to paint him some blushy cheeks and doll-esque features to finish her craft — then simply LEFT HIM TO ROT IN THE SHED, NEVER TO BE FOUND NOR BURIED.

JUST AS HE HAD DONE TO HER BELOVED.

#a nice lil obsessive type Drabble #tw: death #tw: torture #heehOOOO

[maruyaaya]

Hey Imeda! I am Low! I read your Pandalily fic recently and I adored it! I saw that you haven't had this account long and since I can't peruse/stalk your account to satiate my curiosity I've decided to inquire here :) I hope you don't mind.

Do you have any specific Pandora or Lily headcanons you can share? Do you have any WIPs in the works? Do you have any songs you are listening to on repeat right now? What are the top 5 ships that are giving you the most insistent brain rot currently?

And finally, I am done pestering you and I'm wishing you a day full of wonder <3

OMG HI LOW!! yes absolutely i am always happy to talk about pandalily they are my beloveds <3 yeah i set up this acc relatively recently bc i wanted a fresh start for my ao3 and i haven’t really had the chance to do much on it yet (i am unfortunately a full time university student) but i am so happy you sent an ask bc i am always excited to talk to ppl!! feel free to send more asks or even dm me for whatever reason!!

i’m gonna do the pandalily headcanons last bc i have so many of them, but firstly do i have any wips:

oh i ABSOLUTELY have wips. i actually am the worst at starting wips and never finishing them, but as for main ones i’m working on rn, i have a prongsfoot wip that’s currently around 50k words 75% done, a marauders x daisy jones & the six au, a (you have to hear me out on this one okay bc i know nobody ships this but me BUT HEAR ME OUT) friends with benefits sirius x barty fic that’s about half done, and another pandalily fic that is basically just taking shape but i don’t have much to say about it yet (im actually just the worst multishipper ever and i ship my favourite character, sirius, with every single person who dares to so much as breathe in his direction)

songs on repeat

ok so i am totally willing to just link my spotify, in fact: here and i have a pandalily playlist in the works here, but specifically, i’ve had never love an anchor by the crane wives, three by sleeping at last, and funeral by phoebe bridgers on loop over and over as well as the entire daisy jones & the six album.

top 5 ships giving me brainrot

1. PRONGSFOOT!! prongsfoot is forever in my head as one of my fav ships ever

2. pandalily! i absolutely adore their dynamic and the little version of them that i have created in my head

3. rosekiller. i think this is a relatively unpopular opinion but i am so intrigued by their dynamic and i’m currently in the process of drafting a LONG fic about them but i haven’t done much work on it yet

4. dorlene. UGH MY OG ENEMIES TO LOVERS i am forever obsessed with them and i can’t believe i haven’t written them yet

5. normally i’d have jegulus around here i think but currently i’ve been having intensive brainrot about the idea of a dynamic between barty and sirius. i think they’re two characters who are very similar and yet hate each other and i think it’s really interesting to explore a two sides of the same coin dynamic between them and idk i have a lot of thoughts about them i could absolutely rant for a very long time abt the sirius/barty dynamic i have in my head

bonus bc it isn’t a marauders ship but my favourite ship of ALL TIME is soukoku, aka dazai/chuuya from bungou stray dogs. i like them a Normal amount (i’m crazy abt them)

and now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, here are a few of my pandalily headcanons that i can think of off the top of my head

first of all, my fav pandalily song is trouble by halsey. it’s literally them. that’s their dynamic to me

pandora’s much more open about her oddness and want for Blood while lily is more closed off about it. it’s still there—absolutely still there—but pandora kind of awakens it in her and helps her to realize that it’s okay to show that part of her

they met through james and regulus and often go on double dates with them

they absolutely get matching tattoos. probably ethel cain lyrics or something abt the inherent eroticism of cannibalism idk

my favourite headcanon is that pandora and evan are twins and evan tries to get lily the shovel talk when he meets her for the first time, but actually just ends up half in love with her bc he thinks she’s so cool

speaking of, evan and lily joke that they’re going to run away and elope so that evans name could be evan evans and pandora thinks it’s the funniest thing ever

bonus headcanon that evan is the older twin by a few minutes but pandora tells everyone that she is and he doesn’t correct her

they watched bones and all together and every 5 minutes they would whisper “this is so us” to each other

they absolutely LOVE baking together. they do it at least once a week and they make cookies or cupcakes or something and decorate them like pinterest photos and give them to their friends

they have two shared pinterest boards. one is really cutesy baking ideas and cute room decor inspo and the other is full of quotes abt cannibalism and blood and eating each other whole. they treasure both of these boards equally

lily is the biggest taylor swift fan ever and she makes pandora listen to her songs together. pandora moderately enjoys taylor swift, but will listen to her constantly to please lily. lily’s favourite song is this is me trying and pandora likes cowboy like me

they give each other flowers all the time (notably lilies ofc). pandora can’t stand to watch them die and always presses them and keeps them all in a little notebook with the date they got them

they’re obsessed with biting each other. like not even just during sex, they do it all the time. they’ll be watching a movie and pandora will just reach over and bite lily’s shoulder for fun

their favourite show to watch together is hannibal. they’re crazy about it. they rewatch it all the time to an unhealthy extent

they often say really strange declarations of love to each other in front of other people like “i want to eat you down to the bones” or “i want to rip open your skin and crawl inside your kidneys and sleep in there” and everyone around them just laughs nervously and can’t tell if they’re serious or not

i probably rambled much more than i needed to but i am always very excited to talk!!

#should probably start using this acc more huh #this has Awakened something in me i’m going to talk so much abt my wips now LMAO #imeda answers asks!!

[depressedstressedlemonzest]

Taaaaag gaaaaame

I was tagged by the lovelies @vintagelacerosette , @sisitrip , @juliakayyy , @mikhailoisbaby , @creepkinginc ,@ian-galagher , ,

• Tea, coffee, or soda? Between these? Soda. But I drink water more than anything.

• Dogs or cats? Both. I have one of each!

Nala!

Midnight!

• Can you play an instrument? I played violin from 5th grade to senior year in high school. I can play a couple things on the piano with a guide.

• What’s your sun sign? Libra ♎

• First song lyrics that pop into your head? Eight now I have Rihanna's S&M stuck in my head.😂😂

• Do you have any tattoos? Yes! Three as of now, but I have an appointment for 2 more the next two saturdays.

My gallavich tattoo, my essie munson tattoo, and an anchor tattoo.

• Favourite place you’ve travelled? I havent really traveled but one place so florida!

• What’s the last movie you watched? Currently watching Rocky.

• What languages do you speak? English and that's it. I know a couple phrases in Spanish and French.

• Do you have any hobbies? Writing, reading, making art, being in the gallavich community with you guys <3, reading fanfic, collecting little doodads here and there.

• You can hang out with one fictional character for an hour, who do you choose? Mickey! My beloved!

• Compliment yourself: You're genuinely a good and nice person even if your brain says you arent.

[artworldhub]

Tattoo Sleeve Ideas: Unleash Your Creative Ink with These Jaw-Dropping Designs

Introduction:

Hey there, ink aficionados! If you're itching to rock a killer tattoo sleeve and showcase your artistic side, you've come to the right place. Tattoo sleeves are the ultimate canvas for self-expression, allowing you to tell your unique story through a stunning visual display. In this article, we're diving deep into the world of tattoo sleeve ideas, where creativity knows no bounds. So buckle up and get ready for some mind-blowing inspiration that will leave you itching for that next ink session. Let's roll!

The Majestic Nature Sleeve: Unleash Your Wild Side

If you're a nature lover, why not bring the great outdoors to life on your sleeve? Imagine a breathtaking landscape of towering mountains, lush forests, and serene waterfalls. Incorporate elements like majestic wildlife, blooming flowers, or swirling winds to create a scene that captures the essence of your connection to nature. Whether you're a mountain enthusiast or a beach bum, a nature-inspired sleeve is sure to turn heads and ignite conversations.

Mythology and Folklore: Embrace the Power of Legends

Step into a world of myths and legends by adorning your sleeve with characters and symbols from folklore. From Greek gods to Celtic warriors, the options are limitless. Picture fierce dragons, mystical unicorns, or ancient symbols representing wisdom and protection. A mythology-themed sleeve will not only make you feel like a modern-day hero but also spark curiosity and admiration among those who catch a glimpse of your captivating ink.

Pop Culture Extravaganza: Wear Your Fandom with Pride

Calling all movie buffs, comic book fanatics, and music lovers! Turn your sleeve into a shrine of your favorite pop culture icons. From iconic movie quotes to beloved characters, let your passion shine through ink. Imagine a sleeve adorned with superheroes, film references, or even the album cover of your all-time favorite band. Get ready to bond with fellow enthusiasts and engage in lively conversations about shared interests.

Abstract Art: Surrealism Meets Ink

If you're looking to break the traditional mold, dive headfirst into the world of abstract art. Let your imagination run wild with geometric shapes, vibrant colors, and mind-bending illusions. Abstract sleeves offer a unique opportunity to express your creativity and evoke emotions through unconventional forms. Each stroke of the artist's needle becomes a masterpiece that tells a story only you can decipher.

Timeless Traditional: Honoring Tattoo Roots

Sometimes, going back to the basics is the way to go. Traditional tattoo sleeves pay homage to the timeless classics, featuring iconic symbols like anchors, roses, and swallows. These bold, timeless designs have withstood the test of time, carrying with them a rich history and symbolism. Rocking a traditional sleeve not only showcases your appreciation for tattooing's roots but also exudes a timeless cool that will never go out of style.

Conclusion:

So there you have it, my fellow ink enthusiasts! Tattoo sleeve ideas that will ignite your imagination and get your heart racing with excitement.

Remember, getting a tattoo sleeve is a personal journey, so let your creativity flow and embrace a design that truly speaks to you. Whether you're drawn to the beauty of nature, the power of mythology, the thrill of pop culture, the abstract realms of art, or the classic allure of traditional tattoos, your sleeve will be a work of art that tells your unique story.

Now, go out there and find that tattoo artist who will turn your sleeve dreams into jaw-dropping reality. Happy inking!

#tattoos #tattooartist #inked #body art #sleeve tattoo

[whitesunlars]

what other tattoos does he have?

mafia au percy covered in tattoos my beloved

s a l l y across his right knuckle

then like chain link around his wrist

up his entire right arm he has a sleeve of ocean waves and a storm and it's waves up his arm and then thunder and lightning up and around to the back of his shoulder

he's got a large anchor on his back like the pole part is down his spine and then the curved part of the anchor starts at the small of his back

he's got his mom's birthday in roman numerals across his left ribs

he's got a light house up the back of his left leg

upper right thigh he has a small cartoon octopus he got after losing a bet but it ends up being his favorite. it's wearing a top hat and has a monocle

and he has his mafia's emblem on the left side of his neck i haven't decided what the emblem/crest looks like but something ocean-y like three waves or a trident or something because i'm calling the mob the Tridents

ask me more about my as of unwritten and unpublished mafia au that i can't stop thinking about

#your asking my answer #Anonymous #mafia au #when he leaves the mafia he gets another trident tattooed on his left fore arm and it's shaft is broken and shattered #because he's free #and after he falls in love with annabeth he has her birthday added next to his mom's #and eventually she sketches a little blue print that he gets somewhere on his chest

[tryalittlejoytomorrow]

Rules: List five things you never get tired of writing; it can be tropes, themes, characters, phrases, whatever brings you joy. Then tag five people!  

Tagged by @winterlovesong1 , thank you dear 💜

1) Angst and Hurt/Comfort: as evidenced by my body of work - a good 75% of my fics, I’d say - I love nothing more than to explore the angst and give my babies the emotional comfort they deserve and of which the original content often deprives them of, or doesn’t do justice to their pain/trauma. I’m not a glutton for pain for the sake of pain alone, I love writing angst and comfort as balancing each other out.

2) Pregnancy and Kid Fics: I mean, I wrote a 290k fic about a one-nigt stand turning into a surprise pregnancy and a love story for the ages, so...really, who’s surprised here? 😹 honestly, just pry this out of my cold, dead hands. I just love writing seasons of change, and pregnancy is just such a delicate, terrifying, beautiful moment to write about in a relationship. I don’t necessarily see all my ships with kids, but when I do - oh God, when I do, I need to give it to them. And I love the rawness and the vulnerability that goes with knowing the world is a broken bone but still wanting to bring joy and sense to it. (Also: bonus point for the sexiness of attractive people interacting with children, makes them extra hot. 😹)

3) Modern AU/Setting: okay, sure, your world is on fire, it’s war, your husband is being accused of murder, yeah, yeah, I get it, but picture this: what if I wrote you in a modern setting where everybody lives and you’re a Christmas enthusiast or planning your beloved cousin’s wedding? Yeah, what if? God, I love modern AUs. College AU, coffee shop AU, tattoo artist/flower shop AU, gotta catch them all.

4) Pretend Relationship: fake dating but #oops I love you for real, with a big slice of mutual pining on the side, please. This might be my favorite trope ever. Nothing gets me going more than hey, come here, my boyfriend just dumped me and I can’t go home for Christmas without a man or else my mom will nag me for it, please be my boyfriend??? and omg it’s the best friend who’s been in love with her forever and who never dared say a thing??? and she slowly realizes she loves him too, always has, always will??? KICKING MY LEGS CRYING SCREAMING THROWING UP, I just love fake dating so much. Or fake married too, obvs.

5) Metaphors and parallels: it’s not me if there’s no true north/anchor/steadiness/hands/flowers metaphor at some point. This is who I am. And I love echoing those metaphors to show the evolution of the character’s feelings and thinking. Bonus point if it draws a parallel between my otp. Takes one to know one.

(it’s not a good Five Things if there’s no +1 at the end: bonus point for writing about loose hair falling across the face and tucking it behind the ear my beloved)

Thinking of all these things reminded me why I love writing so much, even if I don’t love fandom so much atm. It also reminded I’m behind schedule for updating #oops 😹

tagging @queenofchildren @lochrannn @gizkasparadise  !

#Angèle babbles #my life as a fanfic writer

[httpsgfg]

This picture just lives in my mind absolutely fucking rent free. All the time. Ever since i saw it first. It won’t leave and i am fine with that

please 😩 what a blessing!! the outfit. the rings. dhmu

#hi aria #oh to rob his closet #denim!!!jacket!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #when was the last time he wore jeans im gonna cry #calumthoodshands #answered #anchor tattoo my beloved

[clumsyyhearts]

Everyone drop ur best ideas about Kaz’s future tattoos since we all know he’s gonna get a TON of them post-CK. I’ll start. I think he gets all fourteen of Inej’s knives on him somewhere, and Sankt Petyr is tattooed on his chest so the tip of the knife points at his heart —

#hah yeah. couldn’t sleep was thinking about heavily tatted kaz my beloved #folks drop ur ideas i wanna read em ALL #six of crows #kaz brekker #i think he’d get a tattoo of an anchor as well #both to represent inej’s ship and the effect she has on him (as an anchor keepin him steady) #sobs and i think he’d get more crow tattoos too maybe six of them real small somewhere on his arms #god dammit i made myself cry about kaz again

[bluewinnerangel]

Hi, just saw your comment about Blue and my beloved Joni Michell. That album is one of my favourite albums of all time!!! Obviously now I can never not relate anything to Larry, but ‘my old man’, ‘little green’ and ‘blue’ it’s mad. But my favourite will always be ‘river’ it’s soooo bittersweet. I think Harry covering ‘river’ would be heaven! Thanks 😊

Hey putting you together because I am lazy <3

This is gonna sound pretentious as fuck but I listen to Blue top to bottom most of the time and I find it hard to separate these songs as it's just such a beautiful whole. Especially after I got my hands on the vinyl (and there's a scratch that exactly only covers My Old Man and that one crackles like a fireplace it's beautiful it's like I got my own little comforting version just mine and I am so SO in love with it), but I am always extra excited about A Case Of You, so I'm gonna call that my fav but it's .. it's so so so good in part because of its placement after all the other songs that were just played, you know? Also I love LOVE River, once summer was over I really went yk what's the soundtrack for the rest of the year broskis suprise it's River. Man I YELLLLL I SCREEEEETCH along with Joni it's appalling someone start a business making headphones for cats because the poor baby needs some.

Also @anon the Both Sides Now post isn't mine, it's @hazzabeeforlou 's (you can read it here), but the Canyon Moon one is and you can read that one here, although I've been thinking about editing that one / remaking one for just Joni as there's a few details in there I don't necessarily agree with since writing but also they're minor details and again I'm lazy and weeee.

But to keep relating this to my little HarryLouisBlog here just knowing or being sure there's more in Harry's music that can be related back to Joni Mitchell is nibbling at my brain every time I listen still.. and maybe that's part of the magic why I love it so much, I'm not sure. I'm trying not to think about it, but every time Blue (the song) comes on I can't help but think about Harry listening to it. The lyrics are just insane:

Blue

Songs are like tattoos

You know I've been to sea before

Crown and anchor me

Or let me sail away

Hey, blue

There is a song for you

Ink on a pin

Underneath the skin

An empty space to fill in

Well, there's so many sinking now

You gotta keep thinking

You can make it through these waves

Acid, booze, and ass

Needles, guns, and grass

Lots of laughs

Lots of laughs

Everybody's saying that

Hell's the hippest way to go

Well, I don't think so

But I'm gonna take a look around it, though

Blue, I love you

Blue, there is a shell for you

Inside you'll hear a sigh

A foggy lullaby

There is your song from me

What is that WHAT IS THAT on an album he's oh so obsessed with, man I can't shake it. But obviously also not factoring in harry(/larry) this album is just such such a treasure and I don't think I'll ever get sick of it.

If anyone's not familiar with Joni Mitchell but a big ol Harry fan as one typically is if you're exposed to my ramblings here, just listen to Carey as it's Canyon Moon's mom, same with Both Sides Now for Fine Line, and obviously My Old Man with the "we don't need no piece of paper from the city hall" line, and you should be sold lol.

(about this, and see this Joni Mitchell tag in the context of Harry's songs)

#joni mitchell

[bopbopstyles]

BARTENDER Y/N AND THE FRAT FAMILY AT FORMAL!!! PLEASE!!!

i used a few asks to build out this scene including this, this and this. here is y/n’s outfit (it’s hot). this is connected to behind the bar.

enjoy 5.6k of fluff and smut. warning: some choking :)

You pulled the dress down as you stood in the bathroom of the hotel room you were sharing with Harry. To say you were nervous would be an understatement—you were internally losing your shit. Harry had asked you a month ago to go to his formal with him and at the time you had just thought sure, it’s just another event. But now you were here and you were wearing one of Rhea’s dresses that showed almost every inch of your skin and you were this close to feigning sickness. And not because you were nervous about what Harry would think—Harry didn’t care what you wore—you were nervous you would be wearing the wrong thing and the rest of the dates would think you were crazy.

Because the truth was that maybe your dress was a little crazy. It had a deep plunge down to the base of your breasts that showed your cleavage and instead of seams going up from the hem to the hip, there were laces, meaning you couldn’t wear underwear, and also that a significant amount of leg was showing as well as all of the tattoo on your hip. Essentially, you had to be very careful while dancing. You had asked Harry about the dress code and he had just shrugged, before pulling you in towards his chest and running his hand through your hair. That had quickly distracted you and the thought had fled from your head, meaning you had to rely on Google and your roommate, and neither of you were in sororities or had ever gone to a frat formal before.

Which left you here, standing in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath before you turned around and entered the bedroom, where Harry was waiting for you. You could hear the low rumble of music playing from the portable speaker Harry had packed with him, his pregame playlist that you knew well by this point flowing through the air. BLEACH by BROCKHAMPTON was currently playing, one of your shared favorites, so you decided it was time. You swiped the remnants of your makeup into your makeup bag and zipped it shut, leaving it on the counter for when you packed up tomorrow, and then you turned and opened the door.

“Holy fuck.”

Harry was standing a few feet away, holding a glass hotel glass filled with amber liquid and staring at you, eyes wide and jaw dropped. “Hi, babe,” you said, giving him a small smile. “Like?”

He cleared his throat and closed the space between the two of you, pressing your back lightly against the wall behind you. “I don’t know if we’re going to even make it to the venue,” he said, running his hand up the laces at your sides. “We might need to just skip the pregame and stay here.”

“Oh?” You slid your hand up his chest, splaying across his exposed chest under his sheer black dress shirt. Of course the two of you had accidentally matched, his all black outfit the perfect compliment to your dress. “But I spent so long getting ready,” you complained, scratching lightly at his skin.

His head dropped to your shoulder, resting his forehead against your leather jacket. “Fine. But I cannot be held accountable for the things I might be forced to do to you.”

You chuckled and pushed at his chest, moving him away from you. “You don’t look to bad yourself, Styles.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, gesturing at his outfit. “What do you think? Am I hot enough for you?”

“Hmm,” you said, running your eyes up and down his body. “Nearly.”

“Nearly?!”

You nodded, pushing his suit jacket back a bit so you could hold onto the pudge at the top of his pants, one of your favorite things about his body. “I wish you didn’t have to wear a shirt.”

His eyebrows lifted, the corner of his mouth lifting at your words. “Well, that could be arranged.”

“As much as I would love to fuck you right now,” you murmured, “we have places to be.” You leaned in and pressed a lipstick-tinged kiss to his jaw. “Come on, baby.”

“Not so fast,” he said when you tried to pull away, spinning you around and pressing you back up against the wall and dropping his glass to the table next to him. “This is the last alone time I’m going to get with you for a while and I’m going to fucking enjoy it.”

He left a line of open-mouthed kisses down your neck, causing your pulse to quicken and you curled your hands in his hair, the long strands sifting between your digits. “H, Matt’s expecting us.”

“Fuck Matt.” You chuckled but Harry didn’t—he just sucked on the juncture of your neck and shoulder until you pulled his head up, giving him a terse look as if to say I’m wearing a fucking dress, idiot, try to be discreet at least. And then you released him and he reconnected your lips.

Your hands dove under his suit jacket, curling the back of his dress shirt in your hand and tugging, needing something to anchor you as he slipped his tongue between your lips. His hands were pushing up the hem of your dress, desperate for more of your bare skin, and when he reached where your underwear would usually be, his breath hitched and he pulled away.

His gaze fell to where your dress sat bunched up at your hips, his hand splayed over your skin. “Are you…not wearing underwear?”

The giggle that left your lips made Harry pinch your skin softly. “No, I couldn’t with the laces.”

He groans, dropping his head to your shoulder. “I really wish I hadn’t figured that out because now I’m not going to be able to fucking think all night.”

“You’re never thinking anyways, it shouldn’t be too different.”

“Hey.” He lifted his head and pouted at you. “That’s mean. Say you’re sorry.”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the p sound. “Now come on, we need to go or Matt’s going to tell everyone we were fucking again.”

Harry shrugged. “It’s not wrong.”

“We’re not fucking right now.”

“No,” he said, eyebrows wiggling at you, “but we could be.”

You groaned, and pushed down your dress, stepping out of his grasp. “You’re hopeless. Now grab the whiskey—we’re going now or I’m not touching you for a week.”

That got him moving immediately, the handle of whiskey and bottle of Coca Cola you’d brought with in his hands as you made your way down the hall to where Matt’s room was. You knocked on the door, Harry’s arm hooked around your back and holding you close, nosing at your hair gently. It was adorable, frankly, how needy he got around you. It didn’t matter what you were wearing or what time of day it was, he just constantly wanted to be touching you.

The door swung open and you stepped inside, Matt clapping Harry on the back and giving you a tight squeeze. Caleb and Tyler let out hoots and hollers upon seeing you, before introducing you to their dates. Matt had brought a girl he had started seeing recently, Katie, who you actually quite liked—she was quiet and sweet, but definitely knew how to have a good time. Harry set the whiskey and coke on the console table where the other alcohol was, and you poured yourself a drink, needing some alcohol flowing through your veins. Sipping on your drink, you lost yourself in conversation, Harry’s body pressed to your back and his chin on your shoulder as you talked.

You ended up sitting on the hotel bed talking to Katie about her major and your respective hometowns. She asked you about Harry and how you’d met and you told her the whole story from start to finish. You had her laughing when you quoted things Harry had said to you in the bar and cooing as you described how sweet and considerate he was, how he’d just hang out in the bar and do his homework at the stool nestled against the wall whenever you worked an earlier shift during the week. He surprised you constantly at how much he was more than the simple frat boy you had expected.

When you finished your drink you caught Harry’s eye and raised your glass, silently requesting a refill. You watched him go to the bar and grab two Whiteclaws, one for him and one for you in your favorite flavor, Line. Tyler came over to him and asked him something and Harry shook his head before slapping his hand away, and then came over to where you and Katie sat.

“Your drink, malady,” he said, handing you the can.

“Thanks,” you replied, taking it and flipping the tab open. “What did Tyler ask?”

He huffed out a breath. “Tried to steal your Claw. I asked him if he was my girlfriend, which he obviously wasn’t, and told him to fuck off.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I’m so happy my boyfriend is so possessive over his alcohol.”

“With those two you have to be,” he said, leaning against your body and sliding an arm around your shoulders. “So Katie, what do you think of my beloved big?”

Katie’s eyes widened and then flickered over to Matt. “He’s…great, honestly. I didn’t really know what to expect when we met, but I’ve enjoyed getting to know him. I’m not really sure, like, what we’re doing, but it’s good so far.”

“Well,” Harry said with a smile, “I have it on good authority that he likes you.”

“Harry,” you hissed, knowing exactly what he was up to. “Stop meddling.”

He raised his hands. “Sorry—I’ll leave it be.” He had been trying to get Matt to pluck the courage and make it official with Katie for ages, rather than just hooking up and essentially dating without ever labelling it. Since he’d been dating you he had turned into this dating guru overnight, a wealth of knowledge that you thought was completely bullshit half the time. “I think we’re leaving soon—if I don’t get Thing 1 and 2 to the actual bar soon they’re not going to even fucking make it.”

You nodded. “Want me to help rally the troops?”

“Please. I swear, you’re the only one they listen to anymore.”

“It’s because they’re both in love with me,” you replied with a roll of your eyes and Harry scoffed. “What? It’s true.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Harry kissed the top of your head and then turned back to Katie who was watching the two of you with a smile. “Sorry, Katie, but I need to steal this one.”

You got up and went with Harry to convince his littles and their newly acquired littles, Alan and Brian and their respective dates, to start heading out. Tyler somehow ended up giving Alan a piggyback ride out of the hotel room, both of their dates following with annoyance on their faces. It was going to be a long night.

The frat had rented out a club in the town they’d selected for formal, which was one of the main reasons you were excited for the night. A legitimate bar rather than a shitty frat one? A dream. The light were flashing as you all walked inside, Mr. Brightside blasting on the speakers. Harry kept his jacket since he had all of your belongings tucked into it, and you all found a booth in a corner to stash your stuff in. You grabbed drinks and before long, you were on the dance floor, Harry’s hands on your hips and yours around his neck, grinding against him.

His fingers kept brushing up the laces on the sides of your dress, utterly obsessed with the skin you had on display. Sexy Bitch by David Guetta came on and you immediately discovered that Harry was going to taking full advantage of the songs, speeding up the speed of his hips against you, even twirling you around so your ass pressed against the front of him, his head dropped to your shoulder and bitting marks on your exposed neck. His fingers dug into your hips and swayed you back in forth on him and you just smiled and laid your head on his shoulder, letting him take over.

You had never really enjoyed dancing with a guy until you did it with Harry. He managed to be a perfect combination of fun and sexy all in one, alternating between screaming the lyrics to grinding slowing against your ass, his hands holding you as close as humanly possible, the ends of his hair tickling your skin. You never felt uncomfortable with him—you felt sexy, desired, and wanted more than anything else.

Matt, Tyler, Caleb, Alan, and Brian were hovering in the vicinity and when Jordan Belfort came on they all lost it, creating a mosh circle of some kind and turning into the peak frat boy that you knew lived inside of Harry, even if you didn’t see it all the time. Katie and the rest of their dates danced with you, screaming the lyrics and dropping low when you wanted, tipping your heads back and laughing as the boys jumped all over each other, Harry’s hands on Tyler’s shoulders as he jumped and down. All of their suit jackets were long forgotten and the back of their dress shirts were sweaty, but no one cared. Your hair had long since gone up in a ponytail and you were deeply regretting wearing long sleeves, because an entire frat and their dates packed onto a dance floor was making you sweat.

You needed air or a break at the very least. You tapped Harry on the shoulder and pointed to the bar, and he nodded, before yelling for you to put it on his tab. As Hot Girl Bummer started you slipped away, letting the music swirl around you as you pushed through sweaty bodies, guys you knew through 260 or Harry giving you high fives and hugs as you moved. Finally, you made it to the bar and you sighed, the lack of bodies making the temperature drop at least ten degrees.

“Can I get a whiskey on the rocks, neat?” You asked the bartender and his eyes widened, but he nodded. You leaned against the bar, your arm on the counter and sighed. Watching someone else make you a drink was so unpleasant—you just wanted to be the one with the handle in their hands, behind the bar.

“Do you have a tab open?” The bartender asks, setting your drink in front of you.

“Styles,” you answered. “Question—how much would I have to pay you to let me behind the bar?” He looked at you in confusion. “I’m a bartender too. Just…want to make some right now, you know?”

“Oh,” he said. “Sorry, but I can’t let you. Protocol and all that.”

You frowned. “Really? Even for an actual bartender?”

“Yeah,” he replied, grabbing a glass from below the bar. “I couldn’t give a fuck, but the bosses, you know?”

You took a sip of your whiskey, grimacing slightly as the straight whiskey slid down your throat. The first few sips were always brutal but once the ice melted a bit, it was perfection. “Pretty please? I’ll even make you a drink.”

“I can make my own drinks.”

“But—“

“Hey babe.” You turned and Harry was standing behind you, looking between you and the bartender. “What’s going on?”

“I was trying to get this kind bartender—sorry, what’s your name?”

“Adam.”

“Adam to let me make a drink.”

Harry nodded once, and then looked up at Adam. “Well, mate? What do you think?”

Adam seemed utterly unamused with your shenanigans, but personally you were having a grand time. “I already told her—it’s against policy.”

Harry frowned, before looking down at you and placing his hand on your back. “Sounds like it’s a no-go, babe. Adam, can I get one of whatever she got?”

“Straight whiskey?” You asked him, surprised.

“That’s what you got?” You nodded and he exhaled sharply. “God, you’re going to kill me. Yeah, straight whiskey. Fuck it.”

Fuck it didn’t turn out to be the best advice. An hour later, you were back in Harry’s arms, his arm wrapped around your waist and your hand curved around the back of his neck as you pressed your ass to his front, eyes shut as you moved. “What’s the likelihood you’d let me fuck you in the bathroom?” he mumbled in your ear, nipping at the skin below your earlobe.

You considered his words, your alcohol-fogged brain struggling to process the pros and cons. “How clean is the bathroom?”

“Clean,” he answered immediately.

“Hmm,” you hummed. “No. I want a cozy bed and to be able to enjoy you for hours.”

He grazed your pulse point with his teeth and you groaned, only him able to hear the sound over the music. “Hours, huh?”

“Well, I can go for hours,” you retorted, grinding your ass against him harder. “It’s you who can’t.”

“Hey, that’s mean.” He turned you around, catching you when you almost fell in your heels. “Who said I can’t last for hours?”

You rolled your eyes at him and pressed your thumbs into his biceps to hold yourself steady. The whiskey had you a bit weak in the knees, just how you wanted it. “I did, based on personal experience.”

Harry dug his hands into your hips before slipping them down to your ass, his rings digging through the material of your dress and into your skin. “That’s it, we’re leaving.”

“What?”

He ducked his head and kissed your jaw, a low moan falling from your lips. “Yeah, I’ve got a girlfriend who thinks I can’t fucking last and I’ve gotta prove her wrong.” With that, he was wrenching you off the dance floor, rushed goodbyes to his lineage, and pulling you towards the booth where Matt and Katie were making out for his jacket. Matt flipped you off when you interrupted to say bye and Harry just rolled his eyes before pulling you towards the door.

Harry was ripping off his clothes before you’d even fully gotten inside the room, kicking off his dress shoes as you unlocked the door. Your head was spinning from the way he’d kissed you in the Uber you’d taken back, how he’d sucked and pulled on your lips, marking your neck with his mouth as you panted in his ears. Now, in the room, it was no different, except this time he picked you up off the ground, carrying your through the room with his lips on yours before dropping you to the plush hotel room bed.

“Can’t fuckin’ last,” he mumbled, making a line down your sternum where your dress exposed your cleavage. Your fingers tucked between the strands of his hair, tugging softly as he sucked right over your sternum. “We’ll see about that, baby.”

“Your clothes,” you breathed out, pushing at his chest to create space. You wanted to be able to feel him, to see him in all of his beauty. “Off.” Fingers fumbled for the buttons and he helped you, pulling it free from his trousers as you slowly made your way down his shirt. You were suddenly thankful for the fact that he never properly buttoned his shirts, leaving the sheer black material loose down to the third or fourth button.

He ripped off the shirt once you got it unbuttoned, tossing it to the floor and ducking back down to find your lips. Your hips pressed up into him, desperate for his fingers or anything—just something to help you through the burning that was running through your body. “Needy, hmm?” He taunted, pushing up the hem of your dress, exposing your bare center. When he ran a finger up your slit you couldn’t stop the needy cry that filled the space between you. “You’re so wet,” he said in awe, poking his finger inside your slit experimentally and watching your hips buck up to get more of his finger.

You were chasing him, bending and moving your body just to have an inch more of him, anything more he would give you. Fingers dug into the pearl white duvet that was most definitely going to be a mess after you were done with it, but you didn’t care. You had a feeling you wouldn’t be sleeping much anyways.

Harry scooted backwards so his body could fall to the bed, crawling between your legs and blowing softly on your clit, making you keen, body snapping up from the sensation. “Fuck, baby,” he moaned, biting gently into the skin of your inner thigh. His free hand rubbed at the spot after, holding your thighs open so he could suck on your clit, the heat of his mouth and the pressure of his palm on your skin and the rapidity of his fingers inside of you being too much.

“H,” you panted, tugging on his hair and holding him close to you. “Need it.” You were basically shoving your pussy into his face, riding his fingers and his tongue, just chasing the feeling inside of you. When you were drunk you came with ease, and tonight seemed to be no different, the cumulation of grinding against him all night and the way he had kissed you in the car culminating in you being nearly at an orgasm. There was also how he looked between your legs, his hair tickling your skin and his eyes darting up to look at you every once in a while, loving to watch you reach your edge.  

“Come for me,” he said, suckling on your clit and then licking a circle from your slit back to your clit. “Come on, baby.” Then he slid another finger in and curled them, hitting the spongy part at your front walls and you cried out his name and curses, arching your back as your orgasm overtook your body, heat curling up your spine as you came.

He licked you through it, pulling his fingers from you and kissing over your slit as your walls fluttered, shockwaves rolling through you. “Too much,” you said, shaking your head and pulling him up. “Want you.”

“Me, hmm?” His cocky persona was coming out in force and you were too drunk to deal with him. You could see he was too from how he fumbled with his belt and his pants, you laughing as you helped get his socks off because you refused to let him fuck you with his socks on. “How do you want it?” He asked, pushing your dress the rest of the way up your body to reveal the peaks of your  breasts and your flushed skin. With your help, he pulled it off your body fully, leaving you naked for him. “Fuck—no bra or underwear? I’m a lucky man.”

You giggled and he smiled at the sound, sucking on your jaw softly. “From behind,” you told him, pushing him back so you could hop up onto all fours.

“Can do, baby,” he said, loving to use pet names when he was drunk like this. Once you were on your hands and knees for him, head tilted to the side so you could see him behind you, his hand came down on the skin of your bum. It was a shock, but not unwelcome in any way—the impact had your mind fumbling, fingers digging into the pillow on the bed just above where your head rested against the duvet. You squeaked as he did it again, rubbing into the skin gently, and you wondered if you’d have the outline of his hands on your skin tomorrow.

Not that you minded in the least. “Condom,”  you panted, trying to piece together any rational thoughts in the moment, because all you could process was your desire to have him inside of you. “Where’s the condom, H?”

“Fuck,” he said, letting go of your skin. “Duffel. Fuck—where is it?” His feet hit the ground and you chuckled into the duvet as you watched him root around in his duffel bag for the condoms he had packed. You kept your ass in the air, not wanting to have to move, and he seemed to be happy with this decision. “Waiting for me, huh?” He asked, getting back on the bed after having dropped his pants and underwear to the ground, scampering across the bed to you. “Look so good for me. Ass in the air, just begging for me.”

“Shut up and fuck me,” you told him, pushing back against the air, taunting him. You seemed to succeed because he cursed before ripping the condom open, grabbing the condom and rolling it down his length. It was fast, all of the build-up, but you didn’t care. The two of you could barely keep your hands off of each other, so the foreplay didn’t matter all that much anymore. You just wanted to feel him stretch you, fill you up, hear him grunt in your ear as he fucked into you, see his pupils blown out and hear your name leave his mouth. Fucking him was one of your favorite activities, no matter how long it lasted or how it happened.

He slapped your ass again, rings digging into your flesh, and your fingernails dug into the duvet, searching for purchase. “You always like that,” he murmured, leaning down to bite softly on the skin of your bum. His hands slide up your back, grabbing and pulling at your skin as he rolls his hips against yours, his erect cock rubbing against your folds. You pressed back into him, searching for more, but he had nothing to give—he seemed to just want to linger here and get his hands all over you.

You were panting, letting out a combination of his name and begs that he would remind you of in the morning with a joking smile on his face. “H, please, come on—“ Your words were cut off by him slamming into you without warning, your body jerking forward from the impact, a deep moan leaving your mouth.

Then he was building a pace, a brutal one that left the back of your thighs stinging but you loved it. Loved knowing you’d feel him in the morning, loved how he filled you and consumed every part of you, ripping you to shreds and sewing you back together again all at the same time. From the angle you could feel him pressing against your g-spot over and over again and stretching you out just like you liked it.

All you could do was hold onto the duvet and rock back against him as much as you could, but by and large you just let Harry take over, knowing he could set a pace that you could never rival. His fingers were digging into the skin at your waist, a tight grip that was sure to leave marks, and he was mumbling your name over and over, mixed in with curses and random words you couldn’t even process.

He was so good. There were no words to even properly to describe the feeling of Harry fucking you like this, hard and fast and filling every need you had. You could feel another orgasm building, the combination of his hands gripping your body and the depth he was reaching inside of you making you fall through an orgasm faster than you could process.

“More,” you mumbled into the duvet, reaching behind you for his hand blindly.

“Yeah?” His hand slid up your back and came to rest on the back of your neck, tightening slightly around the sides. Ever since that first time you’d fucked and his love for being choked came out, the two of you had experimented with it, only to find out you both loved it. You liked it right as you were about to come, as just something to push you over the edge, while Harry liked it for longer periods of time.

His fingers pressed into the sides of your throat and you rocked back onto him immediately, hands sliding up and pressing into the mattress, holding your body up barely as you chased your release. “Close,” you said when he pounded into you faster, the sound of skin on skin filling the room.

All of a sudden he was pulling you up, your back coming to rest against his chest, reaching a different depth inside of you. You could hear his pants and groans even louder in your ears and you moaned his name, reaching up to press his hand back to your throat. “Want my hand on your throat, baby?” He said in a husky voice that had you nodding. His palm circled your throat, thumb on one side and his fingers on the other and he pressed down slightly, before adding a bit more pressure. He knew that he had to keep building pressure because the pain faded fast and you needed more, and he most definitely didn’t disappoint.

“Gonna come,” you said, words gravelly in your throat as you stuttered the words, the depths he was reaching inside of you and the pressure on your neck making a brutal combination. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” he answered, adding a bit more pressure before dipping his head and sucking a mark onto your shoulder. Together, it overpowered your senses, sending you into overdrive and pushing you into your orgasm, body shaking against his as you came.

He held you close, fucking you through it and loosening his grip so you could come down. You fell back down to the bed, hands on the duvet and holding you up, breathing heavily as you pushed back against him, wanting him to finish too. “Come on, H,” you mumbled, looking back at him. “Come for me, baby.”

His eyes found yours and with a grunt you could feel him spilling into the condom, hips stuttering against yours and hands digging into your skin. “Fuck,” he hissed, head bobbing as he pulled out.

You rolled over as he got up to the dispose of the condom, brushing your hair back and catching your breath. “I take back what I said earlier.”

As he walked over to you he smiled, before bending to the duffel and grabbing two more condoms. “Don’t worry, I’m not letting you forget it. I’ve got plenty of condoms and a whole fucking hotel room to explore with you.”

Your eyebrows lifted and he tugged on your leg, you head bouncing on the mattress. “The whole room, huh? What’s next, the bedside table?”

He rolled his eyes and bent over, picking you up, knowing you would be Jell-O in his arms. “I was thinking the floor.”

“The floor? It’s carpet, H!”

“I’ll put a shirt down, hush. I know you like the burn.”

You blushed because he was right. Fuck him for knowing you this well. “Fine, but you’re helping me with the lotion tomorrow.”

He chuckled, dropping down to the ground in a mess of limbs as he settled to the floor. “Course, love. It’s my favorite activity.”

In the morning, you woke up to a head of hair, light snores in your ear, and tight muscles. You groaned, before rolling over. You had to pee and badly. Harry’s hands tugged at your skin, wanting you back, but you pulled away, making sure not to wake him as you got up and on shaky legs made your way to the bathroom.

The sight of your face in the mirror made you sigh. Your hair was a disaster, most definitely a rat’s nest that wouldn’t be coming out anytime soon, and makeup you’d been too lazy to take off smeared under your eyes. Marks and bruises littered your skin, the remnants of many, many rounds with Harry last night adorning your body. You pressed one on your shoulder gently, hissing at the pain that radiated from the spot.

You sighed and sat down on the toilet, peeing quickly before standing back up and washing your hands and face, cleaning off the leftover makeup. Then, you pushed open the door and called Harry’s name.

He picked his head up, rolling over and knuckling at his eyes. “What is it, baby?”

That pet name never ceased to make you smile, the sweetness of it on his lips causing your heart to soar. “What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Styles? Hmm?” You turned in a circle, showing him the damage he’d left on your body with raised eyebrows.

He immediately blushed at the sight of the red and purple marks on your skin. “I’ll kiss it better, c’mere, baby.” He reached out his hands, wiggling his fingers to get you into his grasp.

Despite knowing he’d only cause more because he was a sucker for hungover morning sex, you made your way over to him, sitting down on his lap. “Made quite a mess, mister.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, kissing across your cleavage softly. “Looks pretty, though.”

“Think so?”

“Know so.”

“Tell that to literally any human being when they see me. I look like I’ve been fucking attacked.”

“Not attacked,” he said, peeking up at you. “Just fucked really, really good.”

You laughed, brushing your fingers through his hair, before kissing him gently on the lips. “Good thing I love you otherwise you’d be in for it.”

The two of you fell back into the hotel sheets, desperate for one another, despite spending the entire previous evening wrapped up in one another. Around you, your formal attire littered the floor, but neither of you cared, just wanting a few more minutes together before you had to leave each other’s arms.

#btb blurbs #concept night #harry styles drabble #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fiction #anon #answered