A.N: i’m not christian so i’m sorry if any of what i say is offensive,, im trying not to mention as much religion…
His hands started to give out from holding his weight up for so long, so he hovered above on his elbows for support. That deepened the kiss. Tongue was everywhere, you wouldn’t even know what the goal was with this tongue. His crotch brushed against hers, a slight tough but enough to make him moan her name ever so loudly into her neck.
“Oh, Y/N,” he sighed into her neck. He placed small kisses on her neck and on her shoulder, moving back up to her neck. He was having the time of his life. As for her, she stared up at the ceiling. In lust? In desperation? Was she grabbing onto his shirt, desperate for a deeper touch? No. She stared at the ceiling, her eyes filled with boredom, her breathing stable, her body stiff as wood. The routine was simple and the same. Her five year long boyfriend would come over for steak and mashed potatoes for dinner with her parents, sometimes it was with mac and cheese when her mom felt adventurous! Then they’d go up to her room for their 7-8 study session, only to turn into an intense make out session. Or an intense make out session for him. But it never ended with sex. The Lord would not approve of premarital sex. Please do not break the routine.
He let out a grunt and placed one last kiss to her collarbone, letting out a deep sigh. He lifted his head above hers and touched their noses, rubbing his tip against hers. “God, I want to marry you,” he sighed. His eyes were still closed in lust as he savored her smell, the taste of her. Her eyes were wide open, her lips forming a fake smile to show him she was just as enthusiastic as he was. His eyes opened to meet hers and he returned a bigger smile to her. He kissed the tip of her nose and slowly made his way off of her, letting out a loud groan as he made his way up. He sat back on the bed and watched as she made her way up as well, her hair just slightly messed up from the slight head movements on the pillow, her lips glistening from spit and chap stick. Their eyes met and his smile turned into a smirk, proud of his work of art. She placed her hands in her lap and returned a small smile. He furrowed his eyebrows and reached up to move a strand of hair away from her face.
106,190 words. Victor/Yuuri. Explicit. Canon compliant. Slow build. Switching. Fills in the gaps between episodes 7-12. (And beyond.)
With the final Grand Prix performance of the season now behind him, Yuuri soon found himself faced with a new kind of horror.
If there was anything he was dreading more about this trip than the competition itself, it was without a doubt the annual ISU banquet. Yet here he was. In a stuffy room filled with stuffy people with nothing to do but gossip, drink, and make Yuuri feel self-conscious. No wonder he’d sought refuge in a bottle of champagne last year.
The gathering was held in one of the banquet halls on the first floor of their hotel, and the décor was quite different than last year. Warmer and more inviting, with wood paneled walls and a softly lit chandelier overhead that glittered with hundreds of crystals. Though the room was reasonably comfortable in size, it was an intimate space to share with so many guests.
Yuuri’s memories of the banquet in Sochi were still fuzzy, but he was certain he had embarrassed himself thoroughly enough that he didn’t want to see any of these people ever again. He’d begged Victor not to make him go, only to be answered with a tearful response of: “But the banquet is where our love story began.”
♡ - pretend to be in a relationship (w/ fratboy!jin) i remember this is for @versigny i love you bby i hope you like it <333
To say you were excited to attend this “party for the elite” was nowhere near Seokjin’s expectations because you should’ve known Seokjin’s ass would pull a trick like this on you (but it’s not exactly a trick if you never fell for it in the first place). So when you show up at his dorm with a black tee with a pair of jeans, he looks a tad disappointed. Deep down, however, not really when Seokjin secretly lives for anything you wear that appear to be so simple but so fucking good on you.
“Didn’t you get the memo?” He pouts, leaning against the doorframe, blocking your access with his strong build and cockiness pulling the corners of his lips, “I said fancy,”
With a snort, you push him in to invite yourself to the real party; familiar faces all around but not quite where you’d go up for a conversation, overrated music playing in the back and the smell of cheap alcohol already being ripped into the atmosphere with a heavy amount of weed that’s not up to what you like. Seokjin follows closely behind you when he knows how his mates could be at the sight of a gem - “Wow, Y/N. Simple, but you look hot as fuck.”
“Here’s a seat, on my lap,”
“You thirsty, Y/N? Because I’m parched.”
See, Kim Seokjin called it, folks.“Watch it, boys,” You coo, the same time Seokjin’s arm slings around your waist as an indirect statement you’re off the shelf of being single. He goes beyond that to bury his face in your neck, mumbling a soft insult directed to the couple of guys who… gave a compliment in a way that riles him inside out, testing his patience until it’s off the radar and into the fire of rage. Seokjin was capable of feeling that and more.
“Hey, this is a party in your dorm and you’re already being a sour sport?”
“You’re right,” He gives in too soon, too soon for your - “How about a kiss?”
how about alex fierro in 3B??? because it's canon that alex does wear dresses (there's dresses in her room) and no one draws her wearing skirts or dresses. (i was gonna ask for hearthstone in 3E but someone beat me too it haha. though if you want to draw more hearth, shall i recommend 2A?)
[the shirt says ‘sorry 4 not giving a shit’ in pink letters]
I know it's been asked before but do you know any big ways to improve or feel satisfied with your own art? I've been drawing for over a decade of my life and feel like I'm still bad and can't finish a piece I'm proud of and it makes me feel so miserable. I don't want to give up, I see many artist like you that get me pumped to draw and aspire to get better, it's just not happening. I won't accept "drawing isn't for me". It's the only median like to do and I need a creative outlet. ahh I'm sorry!
hmmmm i think what really started me on my progress was taking a break and just going on an “art trip” to find the styles which i found myself drifting towards. which kind of art form do you identify with? what colour palettes make your eyes wanna do backflips?
import your external interests to make drawing feel more homely. you love plants? puppies? the colour red? big jackets? ripped jeans? jazz music? rainy weather? PUT. THEM. IN. draw what makes your brain buzz with excitement but also remember to start with what makes your heart comfortable as well.
the whole point of discovering these first are to help you find your identity before what you draw really becomes who you are, instead of just aimlessly working on the practical theories of art without knowing what you want to really achieve through it. most of us started on art for this reason - self expression. best of luck nonny!!