i would devour him

What I Can’t Have~she (s.m.)

Part one of two (she and he) based on this lovely image. Hope y’all enjoy :)


Touring with Shawn Mendes had turned into so much more than strictly business. But for one night only. I knew that what had happened between us would never happen again. 

I had convinced myself Shawn felt the same.

It was no mistake. But it happened under terms neither of us could comprehend. We weren’t drunk, far from it. Right after a show, night one of two concerts in New York. His hotel room. No alcoholic drinks of fancy names and expensive costs shared between us in glistening flutes. Just two teenagers, standing in an unused hotel kitchen, staring at each other as though speaking words were the hardest task they had ever found themselves doing.

That was okay though. We did’t need to speak. But part of me wished we would. It would have helped us to understand better why we did what we did. If he didn’t press his lips to mine and I didn’t let him, I wouldn’t be laying in his bed the morning after, wondering….what was next? I hated him for this confusion he caused. But also, I yearned for more. Because this confusion was the damn near best thing that I had ever experienced in all my years on this earth. No award I had ever received, no crowd that had ever cheered my name would ever measure up to the feelings Shawn Mendes had evoked out of me.

Keep reading

devouring-time  asked:

This is an old prompt but I don't have a good new one and you said I could toss this back your way sometime: Fenhawke memory swap? <3

Hope this is ok. This is a continuation of this prompt.

Whatever the mechanics of the spell the runaway apostates had levied at them, it took weeks for the effects to fully fade away.

They came to him when he slept, memories that were not his, that were so real he forgot they were not his until he woke. Nightmares that shook him to his core, left him sick.

And every day, Fenris grew more and more distant.

Hawke couldn’t stop it. He tried everything he could think of, practically begged Anders to check him out, and almost even considered asking Merrill to use blood magic, before the dreams finally began to lose shape and potency. He never thought he would be grateful to have his own nightmares back.

Fenris had trouble looking at him.

“All right,” Hawke said. They had avoided each other, once it became clear what was happening. Breaking the silence between them felt like shattering glass. The elf sat by the fire, his shoulders rounded and hunched, his hand playing with the favor on his wrist, and he flinched at his words, but did not look up. Hawke approached slowly, stepped into the circle of light cast by the fire with his own hands spread. “I’m going to come sit next to you,” he told him. “Fenris, we have to get over this. I shouldn’t have lied to you; I’m sorry.”

The elf didn’t look up, but he did speak. “You think I’m upset with you?” he asked. His voice was rough. Hawke hadn’t heard it in weeks. He hated the defensive way that he held himself.

Hawke stopped, just inside the warm ring of light. The rest of the mansion was dark as pitch, and cold and unattended. He wished he had found the courage to come see Fenris sooner.

“I didn’t know how to deal with this,” Hawke said. “I still don’t.”

“You must have seen so much by now,” Fenris said, cold, bitter.

Hawke said, “Yes.”

“I never wanted you to know. I never wanted you to see me…like that.”

“Like what?” he asked, and the elf snarled in response.

Pathetic,” he spat. “Content. Danarius told me that life was my place, and I believed him. I thought I – I felt – I only wanted his approval, his pleasure. I only wanted - !”

Fenris.” Hawke’s voice, sharp, hard. Fenris fell silent.

It was a long time before Hawke spoke again. He moved, joined the elf on the little bench by the fire, the light bouncing off the elf’s snowy hair. Fenris plucked at the favor and did not look up, even when Hawke kissed his head, his ear, his cheek.

“That wasn’t you,” Hawke said. “That was done to you.”

“I allowed it to be done.”

“You didn’t have a choice.”

Fenris looked up, then, closer than they’d been in weeks. His eyes moved over Hawke’s face, and there was something cautious in his eyes, wary. He seemed surprised when he said, “You don’t appear to look at me any differently.”

“You thought I would?” Hawke asked. He pressed his forehead to the elf’s. He said, “Fenris, I love you.”

“Yes,” Fenris said. “I saw – our meeting. Our flirtation, the first time we kissed. More. When you look at me – Hawke, I’m not what you think I am. You’ve seen that now.”

“You’re not,” Hawke agreed. “You’re more.”

Fenris frowned at him, but his hands stilled. He searched Hawke’s face again. “You still want me,” he realized, and even though he wasn’t meant to answer, Hawke did.

“Of course I do.”

Kiss The Birthday Boy

(re-uploaded cause I messed up)

Happy Late Birthday Sharpshooter!!! I know Im lame I couldnt think of anything cool for his birthday. But Lance is ready for a smooch from any of his fellow paladins or alien ladies ;)

F1 drivers in suits

First off we have Valtteri Bottas mixing his patterns in the best and most pleasing way and proving to the fashion world once and for all that hard-boiled eggs do look good in suits (even if the suit could stand to be tailored a little more…). Also, that patterned grey won’t show cat hair making him a egg man who thinks about where his cat is going to sleep when he buys his clothes.   1000000/10 Humpty Dumpty would be proud.

Next up Romain Grosjean wearing his customary expression of existential dread (mortalterror.jpg). He did not tie that tie himself but rather opted for a very obvious clip-on and I am going to shame him for it forever. Love the choice of collar though. He may be a drama bitch but the man knows his classic fashion (of course he does he’s french). 10/10 calm your tits. 

Thirdly, Antonio Giovinazzi looking for some reason like he is in the pits of hell but that’s the fault of the photographer, not his outfit. Classic shawl collar navy and black satin- no fault with the classics.  He looks like an elven prince who was unceremoniously stolen from the middle of his fairy ball and is confused by where he ended up.  infinity/10 stop sleeping on this suave and talented boy. 

Marcus Ericsson.  Why does he look like he wants to eat me? also if you are going to wear a notched collar like that without a breast pocket for a pocket square you need a boutonniere or at the very least a lapel pin gawd.  176/10 because he would devour my brain if I rated him any lower.

Next we have Daniil Kvyat who does have the top breast pocket but with no pocket square in it (the horror!!!!). The tie is great though I love the tie. He is trying to prove that even basement gremlins can dress up and have fun once in a while. I support him. 9000/10 support your local basement gremlin.

Last but not least we have Stoffel Vandoorne who is gazing longingly at a cheeto someone has dropped on the floor. There is no fault to be found with charcoal and blue, ever. It is one of the truly perfect color combinations in fashion. There is, however, fault to be found with these specific shades of charcoal and blue on him particularly, as well as with the cut of this suit. Please help this chld, his sleeves are too long and the colors make him look orange. Please send him a tailor and a proper stylist asap.  200/10 a soft orange waffle is still a soft waffle.  

anonymous asked:

Would love to read more about memorie loss Obi-Wan! Maybe with the remaining 212th and 501th clones?

“Ouf!” Cody blinked in surprise as he walked right into a shape around the corner, the men stopping right behind him as he stared down at…at…

“General…” He whispered out before quickly pulling himself together and offering the rumbled looking man his hands. “Sir, here. I apologize, I wasn’t expecting anyone down the corridor.” He managed to get out, helping the redhead up.

No one was suppose to be there, the 212th were on cleanup duty!

“No apologies needed.” Warm, clean high Coruscantian filled the air along with a small smile. “I think I’ve gotten myself lost. A nice R2 unit let me down here but I lost sight of him and…well lost.” A sheepish laugh.

Cody desperately wanted to cling to the others hands but forced himself to let go. “I see, that may be R2D2, the Emperors unit. It can be mischievous but I don’t think it meant any harm.” He assured.

“That does explain why the door shut behind me.” Obi-Wan glanced back at the elevator then turned sheepish green eyes on them. “You wouldn’t mind helping me?”

He wanted to scream ‘of course not’ that he’d be willing to do anything for the other man. That he’d give anything for Obi-Wan to continue smiling at him and the rest of the 212th like that.

‘We shot you down, but you’re here and you’re injured and kind of broken but you’re HERE.’

He didn’t say any of that. “Of course sir. Where were you going?”

“I was trying to find the training salle An-the Emperor talked about. Get some workout, I’m starting to feel…cooped up.”

“I see, of course, there is one on this level actually if you don’t mind us walking around doing cleanup duty.” Cody offered, hopeful that they may be able to keep half an eye on the man.

“Really! Well then R2 wasn’t being mischievous, please then.”


“There you are. I was wondering where you went.” Anakin moved into the gym, one of many on the entire ship. Obi-Wan stopped mid move and smiled at him.

“Yes, I needed to move, I was getting really cramped up.” Obi-Wan offered in turn to the unasked question.

“I see. I do wish you would have left me a message, I spent some time looking after you.” Not strictly true but telling Obi-Wan that he could track him through the bond sounded unwise even to Anakin.

“I apologize, I just…” The other shrugged and Anakin reached out, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Its fine. Just next time, please?”

“Next time, for sure.” Obi-Wan smiled at him, that warm and gentle smile that always set Anakin’s thundering heart at ease.

‘I need talk to him about who he was…I need to tell him before we reach Coruscant…’ The media would devour him whole if he didn’t warn Obi-Wan.

The Negotiator back on Coruscant.



But alive.

“Obi-Wan…I have some things I need to speak to you about.”

“I get the feeling its serious.”

“It is.”

“Does this have anything to do with the poster of me in Jedi robes and the name Negotiator written on?”


“I’m not oblivious sire.”

“Doooon’t call me that, not you, not alone.”

“Then can I have the truth?”

Anakin sighed but nodded, taking the other by the shoulder. “Yes. But you’re not going to like it. No you’re not going to like most of what I have to say and I’m not even sure how much I should tell you.”

“How about you tell me about the fact that I used to be a Jedi?” Obi-Wan smiled at him. “And we’ll…take it from there…see if I remember anything?”

“Okay.” Anakin breathed out. “So…you used to be my teacher and…”

turians  asked:

Prompt: ice cream date for the pairing of your choice!

Thank you so much for this! <3

I am sorry, it’s a little trite and super quick because I am stubbornly trying to write my way out, but I hope you enjoy it all the same :)

“Commander, what are you doing?” Garrus stared at the woman with a spoon frozen half way to her mouth.

“Erm…” she shifted uncomfortably, she definitely did not expect to be discovered huddled behind the Mako with a giant tub of ice cream, in the middle of the night, in her pyjamas, by her rookie turian. 

Embarrassing would be the understatement of the year.

“Losing any shred of respect my own crew has for me?” Shepard offered grimacing, unable to read his expressions.

Garrus blinked.

Shepard blinked right back at him.

“Well, this is delightfully awkward officer” she finally broke the silence “care to at least join me?”

“Me?” he flared his mandibles pointing at his own chest.

Shepard sighed “No, the turian that’s standing right behind you. Come on Garrus, give me something here, I am having a bad day, well night, is it still night? I can’t tell anymore. And now I’m rambling. Sit you’re ass down or go to bed and leave me be”

Garrus shook his head in confusion, Shepard got the distinct impression that she has utterly disconnected the poor boy from reality. She couldn’t really blame him. Finding your commanding officer hunkered down in an oversized t-shirt with ice cream dripping all down her fingers was a surreal sight.

To her surprise, he recovered quickly, took a tentative step towards the Mako and then another a more sure one, before gracefully folding himself in the corner beside her.

“Is this a human thing Commander?” he said readjusting himself in the tight gap so as not to intrude on her personal space. She wished he felt more at ease with her, maybe one day.

“Time honoured tradition Vakarian” she smiled sheepishly up at him.

“What is that? It’s dripping…” a mild disgust crossed his face.

“Ice cream.” she said popping the half melted spoon of ice cream into her mouth.
“And that is?” he frowned, watching her hands which were sticky with the stuff.
“Cold dairy stuff. Just a butt load of sugar really” her cheeks coloured, she really was a mess tonight, her dignity was disintegrating with alarming speed.
He was observing her impassively, and she really couldn’t read him, it was pissing her off.

“You know you terrify me?” he suddenly spoke making Shepard whip her head up at him.

“What?” she stared.

“You’re like a force of nature” he looked down into her eyes “And I don’t know what to do with that”

“More like a natural disaster” a nervous laugh bubbled out of her, she never noticed how intensely blue his eyes were until they were inches away from her own.

“Maybe,” he laughed, his subharmonics vibrating against her sending shivers all down her spine “you’ve exploded into our lives and swept us along with you”
“You could always go back?” she answered in a small voice, she felt small, it was never her intention to force anyone, but the way he spoke about it, it was as if they didn’t have a choice.

“I don’t want to” his answer was firm “At first, it was just a way to get to Saren, but now, well…” he trailed off looking away from her.

“And now?” her voice quivered, she hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“Now I need to watch your six” he turned back, flaring his mandibles in a smiled “I’ve seen you work, you’re determined to die at least ten times a day”

“That’s not what you were going to say…” she said almost inaudibly.

He snorted “No it wasn’t. Maybe I’ll tell you if you let me try some ice cream?”

Shepard baulked “It’s levo!”

“I’ll live, I’m curious. Or is this just an excuse not to share?” he smirked.

“What happened to being terrified of me?!” she frowned.

“Sorry Shepard, but once you see your CO in frilly lace, it kinda changes your perspective.” he gently nudged her, his subharmonics ringing with amusement.
She flushed scarlet, pulling her t-shirt further down herself “I liked you better when you were quivering in my presence.”

“That could be arranged” he purred leaning even closer to her.

Now it was her turn to become entirely unhinged from reality. She’s never heard him flirt before, his voice sent shock waves all down her, a pleasant heat pulling her relentlessly toward him, Shepard struggled to breathe. She fought against the feeling, swallowing hard and summoning all of her resolve to move in the opposite direction.

“Did you just…?!” she gasped.

“Did it work?” he laughed completely oblivious to her reaction “Can I have the ice cream now?”

“Ass” she spat, thrusting the tub a little too hard at him.

“Thank you Ma'am!” he took the tub from her hand, brushing his fingers in the process, the relentless pull assaulted her again.

“And I was going to say” he took a deep breath scrutinising her face “That now I will follow you wherever you lead because you are brighter than a supernova and I can no longer look away and I wouldn’t want to, not anymore.”

She didn’t trust herself to speak, to breathe, if she did her resolve would shatter and she would launch herself at him, devour him whole.

“Can I have the spoon now?” innocence returning into his voice.

She broke down laughing.

oddlyfamiliar  asked:


Anything for you, my love. <3

(cross posted on ao3)

Originally posted by kurtwellers

She’s curled up in bed, refreshing herself on the stats of some of the Tampa Bay Ray’s she’s going to be playing tomorrow when a knock comes at her door follow by a muffled yell of her name.

Ginny would know that voice anywhere and she gets up quickly, not thinking of the tank top and boy shorts she’s wearing, to go open the door. It’s late enough and she doesn’t want noise complaints from her neighbours.

The team had gone out for a drink and she’d begged off, not feeling like being around the people or the noise that inevitably came with the clubs her teammates would drag her to.

“I know you’re in there, Baker. Prob’ly going over hitters like the try-hard you are,” his speech is slurred a little and she braces herself as he knocks three more times on her door.

The sight that greets her is more than enough to make her need to hold back a laugh.

Her captain is swaying dangerously despite a hand on her door frame, a Hawaiian leis is inexplicably around his neck, and he’s most definitely missing a shoe. 

Mike sees her standing in front of him and his face brightens to truly animated levels, cheeks pink from the copious amounts of alcohol he’s ingested, eyes bright and shining as he takes her in.

“There she is! Ginny Baker in the flesh!”

Ginny just crosses her arms and leans on the opposite side of the frame, freely enjoying the state of a drunk Mike Lawson. She’s only seen him like this once before and he wasn’t anywhere near as intoxicated as he currently seemed to be.

“Having a good night there, Lawson?” She probes, trying to keep from giggling as he guffaws dramatically before gesturing wildly at her.

“Woulda been better with you there, that’s for sure,” he confesses guilelessly. 

She raises her eyebrows at him and takes a second not to think about how close they’ve come to crossing a line. While seeing him drunk is amusing, his loose tongue is much too dangerous for her to be around.

Don’t think about his tongue. Don’t think about his tongue.

But it’s too late, she can feel the phantom press of his lips against hers and how his tongue would trace a path from her mouth to her neck and lower. She’s reminded that she’s not wearing a bra when she feels her nipples tighten and become erect; the fabric covering her chest hiding nothing.

Mike either notices and somehow still has the cognitive function not to comment, or is simply too drunk to realize.

“I need to stay with you, rookie, Dusty kicked me out cause he has a girl with him,” he doesn’t wait for her to invite him in, he just half-walks-half-stumbles his way into her room and flops down face first on the bed unceremoniously. 

There is a couch he could sleep on but trying to move him seems ridiculous and asking for trouble, not to mention how hard it would be on his back, so she just sighs and coaxes him higher up the bed and under the blankets. She makes him drink a large glass of water, and at least take off his shoes, well, shoe.

As soon as she hears the faint snores, if she’s honest she was expecting him to sound like a freight train, she quickly finishes going over the hitters and turns off the light to snuggle down into the sheets.

Once again, she chooses not to think about the fact that Mike, Mike, is in her bed, sleeping and cozy not a foot from her. She smiles faintly as she takes in his relaxed features and messy hair.

Ginny is not sure if this will ever happen again so she lets herself bask a little bit. Not too much though, she knows better. 

Morning comes to her in fragments, then all at once. During the night, she half remembers hearing him get up then come back; Ginny think she recalls him patting her thigh and gruffly telling her to “scooch” before he climbed back in, making the bed warmer and smell like scotch and his aftershave.

She’s dreaming that she’s pitched a no-hitter and Mike is hugging her on the mound, arms wrapped around her tightly, arms that feel like they don’t want to let go. Then, she’s awake and she feels Mike’s arms around her for real. 

Mike is warm, broad, muscled, smells human and real and she feels anchored. Anchored in the best way, like she’s been drifting and listless and finally found a safe shore.

She’s on her side, Mike spooning her from behind and, because she can’t help herself, she gently wiggles her way further into his embrace. He just sighs into her hair and holds on tighter; the surge of joy that runs through her would make her dizzy if she wasn’t laying down.

Without meaning to, or maybe unconsciously meaning to, she presses her ass into him where she can feel him hard and long against her. His hand, which had been bound around her stomach moves up and under her shirt until he’s cupping her breast. 

She freezes for a tiny second then relaxes into him more. She thought he was asleep.

“What are ya doing there, Lawson?” She asks, voice sleep rough.

“Sleeping, what are you doing, Baker?” He responds, voice equally as hoarse as her.

“Your hand doesn’t feel very asleep, old man,” she counters.

“Well, neither does your ass, rookie, but you don’t hear me complaining.”

She bites her lip and half hides her face in the pillow. 

She feels his thumb every so lightly brush over her nipple, like a tease, like a warning, like a hello, and she can’t help the full body shiver that runs through her. Ginny feels him shuffle closer and breath her in, warm air from his mouth hitting the back of her neck and shoulders, heightening what she’s feeling and making her want to turn in his arms and devour him whole.

“Christ, rookie…I knew you would feel good, but I didn’t think you’d feel this good,” he mumbles half into her hair, half into the pillow.

That does it.

She extricates herself from his arms, hearing a soft noise of protest from him before she turns around – she wants to look at him. She settles and takes him in, watching as he does the same.

“Don’t look at me like that, Baker, or I’m going to kiss you, and I guarantee my breath is horrible right now,” she’s more than a little taken aback by his frankness. For someone who’s avoided even referencing what else they may be to each other besides teammates, he’s being awfully forthcoming about what he wants.

“Mike,” she whispers because she can’t think of anything too say. There’s too much she needs to express and Ginny has no idea where to even begin. 

“Will you come to my place when we get back to San Diego? I think we should talk, when I’m less hungover and you have more clothes on,” he smirks just a little bit and she shakes her head at him fondly, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea…,” she trails off, not sure how to ask what she wants to ask.


The use of her first name has her meeting his gaze, his open and honest eyes completely transfixed on her.

“What changed, Mike? I thought…,” she trails off again, not even sure what she thought.

He smiles at her and her stomach swoops.

“I woke up with you in my arms, Baker,” he cups her cheek gently, “there’s no going back after that.”

Ginny’s breath catches and she smiles at him unsteadily – a rush of something, something she’s not ready to name quite yet, flows through her and she feels lighter than she’s felt in a long time.

Unsure of whether or not her voice will come out even, Ginny just nods at him and snuggles back into his arms. The hand that was cupping her check slides around her neck and runs down her back as she becomes encased in his warmth.

She can’t wait to get back to San Diego. They have a lot to talk about.

Thinking Bout You 🌙

A/N: So I dug up this little gem of mine from the depths of my drafts and I decided to post this because I love all of you. At first, I was planning to save this for the future but I figured that all of you would need something to keep you occupied while I attempt to finish up my requests. So enjoy some ‘good good’ Lu smut (sort of) while I work on everything else ;)

Pairing(s): Luhan x Reader

Warnings: Masturbation

Genre: Light(?) smut

Requested: No

Summary: To fill up the loneliness in your heart when Luhan leaves for work, you decide to have a bit of fun by yourself.

Word Count: 1285

Soundtrack: Thinking Bout You // Ariana Grande (because I’m a hoe for her)

Originally posted by vixionz

I’m used to being alone. I’m used to rolling over in bed, opening my eyes and drinking in the morning sight of Luhan fiddling with his cufflinks and adjusting his suit jacket while gazing at his reflection in the wardrobe’s mirror. I’m used to the heartwarming smile he tosses in my direction as he smooths his perfectly-gelled ebony hair back with one hand, accompanied by the standard question of, “Do I look okay, baby girl?”

I’m used to responding with my usual and genuine, “As you do everyday”. However, let’s be honest for a moment. Luhan always looks way more than okay. In fact, the ravishing, mouth-watering sight of him in a neatly-pressed suit never fails to send little shocks of lust-filled heat right down to my core, throwing me into overdrive every single time. If he wasn’t always running late for work, I would have pounced on him and devoured every inch of his cologne-scented body without a second thought. But it’s okay. I’m used to it.

Following that, I’m also used to the little kiss Luhan blows to me as he turns and heads for the room door, murmuring, “See you tonight”. Then he’s gone, leaving me with a cold and empty bed and an aching core, as well as a hollow and needy void deep within me. I’m used to it.

However, I am never used to the desperation that overcomes me whenever I hear the door downstairs clicking shut, signalling the reality of Luhan’s departure and the dreadful fact that I won’t get the opportunity to see him for more than twelve hours. So here I am, abandoned with such raw sexual frustration that nearly drives me over the edge every single morning and clutching a pillow so tightly as though I’m physically trying to cling onto Luhan. Now that sexual frustration is something I can never get used to.

So sue me. Here I am, indulging in such sinfully delicious inappropriate fantasies about Luhan while he merrily goes on his way to work without a single clue that I’m deliriously horny and in need of his -and only his- cock in me. Well, then. It’s time to take matters into my own hands.

Laying myself back down on the pillows and allowing my body to sink into the welcoming softness of the mattress, I let my eyes drift shut on their own as my mind takes over. In all honesty, I must admit that I’m scared. Terrified out of my wits. Okay, so I may have read a countless number of steamy romance and explicit sex novels where the drop-dead gorgeous protagonist indulges herself in various self-pleasure moments but firstly, my life is not a novel and secondly, I’m not drop-dead gorgeous. I’m just me. Way too tiny, awkward me.

But all the same, my own insecurities don’t hold me back from exploring the inner depths of my own body in the heat of the moment. With newfound curiosity, I hesitantly slip off my boxers and pull my panties down to my ankles, slowly spreading my legs as I lean forward to peep at the most private area of me. My glistening womanhood winks back at me, enticing me to touch her, to feel and explore with one trembling finger. The digit slides itself in between the folds and the breath hitches in my throat as my mind throws up an image of Luhan, plunging every nerve of mine into sexual overdrive. In my mind’s eye, a mental slideshow of every minute detail of Luhan plays; his turfs of jet-black hair, the same hair which I grip on to tightly whenever he manages to hit my sweet spot. His eyes, the same eyes which always undress me lustfully whenever he gets in the mood. His ski-slope nose, his heart-shaped lips which have left the most fantastic kisses on my bare skin, his unscathed hands which have groped, grappled, stroked and held me.

With every little detail that crosses my mind, I gradually add a finger in between my own soaked folds and nervously pump them, breathless and desperate moans and whimpers tumbling from my lips clumsily and artistically at the same time. The silence in the bedroom is filled with my cries of high pleasure and my back arches itself as rapid images and memories of Luhan run through my head. His name escapes from my lips at the exact moment I manage to locate my sweet spot, the speed of my pumping, soaked fingers increasing as the need in the pit of my stomach grapples every inch of me, almost sending tears straight to my eyes. 


His name spills out into the open, pleading and needing as I ease myself into a temporary high while riding my soaked, slippery digits, nothing but the thought of him invading every sense of mine. Through my rapid breathing, a honey-like explosion occurs in the pit of my stomach, causing me to release right on my fingers to the erotic pumping sensation and the clouded images of Luhan in my head. White strings of my release drip onto the sheets and down the insides of my thighs, throwing up a blush on my cheeks at the bashful thought of anyone else ever finding out about my dirty little activity. Plus, I don’t even want to begin the thought of getting up and clearing the mess, especially since my entire form feels like it’s taken a nice, long dip in a bathtub of steaming hot water after that mind-blowing orgasm.

Pressing the palms of my hands against my burning cheeks, my gaze drops down to the guilty stains on the bedsheets. Good thing no one is around to take notice of it. Until the bedroom door bursts open, revealing a frantic-looking Luhan who immediately catches sight of me in bed; legs spread wide to show him my chasm of a womanhood, four fingers still drenched in my own sticky release, the stained sheets and to top it all off, the frozen ‘eyes as wide as a deer’s caught in headlights’ look on my flushed face as we stare at each other for what seems like eternity.

“H-Hi”, I blurt out stupidly, instantly shutting my legs and folding them over the evidence of my self-pleasure, but there’s no point to it, really. Luhan’s dumbfounded gaze flicks from me to my evident nudity, his socked feet rooted to the spot in the doorway, and I don’t miss the tent in his suit pants, growing in size as the seconds tick by. 

Coughing to mask my embarrassment, I busy myself with arranging the pillows and avoiding eye contact at all costs. “So what brings you back? Work finished early today? If that’s the case, it's really early, considering the fact-”

“(Y/N)”. Luhan’s curt mention of my name halts me from my aimless blabbering, clicking the door shut behind him and sealing us off from the rest of the world. Suddenly, the tension in the bedroom has risen ten-fold, causing me to break out into a sweat. It’s obvious that Luhan senses it as well, judging from the suggestive glint in his eyes and that smug little smirk of his which has crept onto his lips. He proceeds to take his own sweet time tugging off his tie, casually strolling his way over to the bed where I’m still seated on like a wax figurine, legs clenched together so tightly that the wetness of my core has spread itself all over the interior of my thighs.

He pulls his lips back in a Chesire-like smile. “Well, I was about to retrieve some paperwork which I’d forgotten but after discovering what my baby girl has been up to, I can’t just leave her in this state, can I?”

Hope - Jay x Reader

Anonyme:  Hi!! I was wondering if you could do a jay x reader fic where the reader is super shy and insecure? I think it’d be interesting☺️

Summary: The reader is very shy. She is in love with Jay and hopes one day that he notices her. Then one day her dream came true …

Words: 665

Notes : English is not my language, so I hope it’s up to it!

Originally posted by fudayk

You look at him. Again. You look at the brown hair, the bright brown eyes, the strong face, the curve of these muscles. You will never get tired of looking at him. And one day, you hope he’ll notice you.

You’re Snow White’s girl and you’re pretty shy. You spend your time reading books in the forest or communicating with the animals of the forest, like your mother. You do not have many friends. Your best friend is Jane, the daughter of Godmother. She knows your big crush on Jay, the best friend of her boyfriend, Carlos. Every day, Jane tries to persuade you to talk to Jay. But you decline the offer every day.

You’re sitting on one of the benches in the school yard with the company of Jane. She talks to you about something she did with Carlos but you do not pay much attention to it.

“-Y / N? Y / N!” Jane shouted to catch your attention.

You turn your head towards her.

“-What’s going on Jane?

-You still look at him … "Jane says, shaking her head.

”-N-No, what are you talking about?

-Y / n, you’ve been devouring him for a while now!

-Why would I do it? He’s with Lonnie … “you say, tilting your head down.

”-It’s not because he’s with Lonnie right now that you’re out of luck with him!“ Said Jane putting her hand on your shoulder.

You look towards the couple. They looked happy. Lonnie is one of your friends. You love her a lot but you’re jealous of her and her very close friendship with Jay.

”-It’s very funny Jane …“ you say sarcastically.

”-I do not laugh Y / n, when I’m with them, Jay often talks about you!

-That is true? I thought he would never notice me!

-But if ! He loves you very much! You have to go talk to him! “Jane said excitedly.

You reflect for a moment. If Jane said the truth, you may have a chance with him, but you’ll never succeed in taking the first step.

”-I promise you I’ll go talk to him, but I have to go, I’ll be late for my next class, see you later!“ Tell me before leaving for next class.

After class, you walk in the corridors to join your dorm that you share with Ashley, the daughter of Rebel. You’re so focused on your book that you do not even notice the two people in front of you that get into you.
You fall to the ground with a big crash.


-OH MY GOD! I’m so sorry! “Said two people at the same time.

You look up to see Carlos with his dog in his arms and Jay next to him.

”-Oh, that’s okay, I did not look where I was going …“ You say, getting up slowly.

Jay leans over to the floor, picks up your book and hands it to you with a smile.

You blush and take it. "Thank you”

“-Do you know where Jane is?” Asked Carlos.

“-Yeah, she’s with her mother and King Ben!” You say smiling to him.

“-Thanks Y / n!” Said Carlos, then he left.

The atmosphere between you and Jay becomes annoying.You’re about to leave but Jay took your wrist.

“-Hum, Y / n, I’ve been watching you for a while and I’d love to get to know you …” Jay said blushing.

You blush even more than usual. You took a long time to answer. Jay’s face started to decompose, but you smile at him.

“-Me too I would like to know you …” You say, smiling shyly.

“-Hum, what would you say earlier are going to walk in the forest before the meal?” Jay asks.

“-Yes, why not …” you say, smiling shyly.

Jay smiled fully excited, kiss your cheek then gone to join Carlos probably.
Your face is warming up even more than usual. You smiled while biting your lower lip. You finally had your chance. The next time you see Jane, you have to tell her everything that has just happened in detail.


an innocent lesson gone wrong

Tales of Berseria Analysis - Magilou’s character arc - Contradictions.

And then just one was left…


Magilou is a difficult character to talk due to the ambiguity in her own character…and while the game and other characters have, also, a grade of ambiguity, most of them come in consequence of the themes they explore …Magilou’s ambiguity, in the other hand, is in her presentation (Because for a big chunk of the game the only thing that we know about her is that she is a “Great Witch”, that she is NOT and exorcist and that she is NOT the traitor, that would be to obvious…

Oh, hi Alvin) 

…and in her persona and in order to read her we need to ask us,; How much truth are in Magilou’s says and actions?

She is an apathetic witch that just stayed to end because she was boring or maybe she had her own agenda?  How much important was Bienfu to her?  She joins Velvet only for the opportunity to find Bienfu or she wanted to use Velvet to generate chaos and destruction for her own selfish reasons? She had a change of heart in some point or she just followed the group to the final battle, just to see how everything ends? She just found the Menagerie interesting or she grew to care for them?

…What is the truth behind Magilou?

It difficult to assure, but, I want to believe that the moments in which she is completely and genuinely honest, without a trace of doubt, are her faces to faces with Melchior, both, in Hexen Isle and in Meirchio (And her scene with the Menagerie before facing Melchior, but that one is far more straight forward that the other two)…and from them, is where we started to build up her true character.

Those are our first direct taste of what Magilou is, no more reads between lines, no more interpretations, no, here she just throws it her own truth…and it’s quite revealing.

Being in an unconscious level or not, Magilou may still have some sort of affection for Melchior (And taking into account how much of a bastard Melchior has been, not only with her, it say something about how much she desires the embrace of a loving family, even if that family have to be Melchior…or Bienfu…and yes there is an optional conversation later with Grimoirh that confirm this but I liked that we also have it in the main story)…but the real gut punches doesn’t come until later.

Magilou is a deeply cynical person, we know that, and she always expects the very worst of people, thing that is pretty in line with the beliefs of the Abbey and Melchior’s teachings. She is very pointy about other people’s flaws, their mistakes, their hypocrisy (Again, the best example here it’s probably her comments to Velvet for treating Phi as a tool or as a replacement for Laphi) and she seems to have developed sort some of enjoyment from that…and she hates it.

Magilou hates herself (Or, at the very least, has a very low opinion of her), Melchior and all of that logic and reason represent.

Her speech in Meirchio let us know about all of her deep anger and resentment against Melchior’s beliefs and her lines about the Menagerie and herself (and Melchior) being different of each other’s let us know how she sees herself and the others…and then you put it together and it’s when really hits home.

She sees herself as someone weak, unfeeling, someone that cannot endure the inherent pain of emotions and has choose to refuge in the comfort of the teaching that she despise but also protect her from that pain…

…a contradiction that she hates and may be the trigger that made her develop her funny persona, as a copping mechanism, and maybe, as way to inject a little of chaos and irrationality in a world she hates.

“…Despite the pain, the anguish, they embrace the life they’ve been given…”

Magilou admires the party and the strength they have and she doesn’t, it’s unlikely that she had decide to follow Velvet right from the begging for this reason, instead she probably developed this deep admiration and respect in some point between TItania  and Aball (I would want to say that she developed her feelings in random moments during the journey and she just don’t fully acknowledge them until Aball when she saw Velvet overcome the same thing that destroy her …it’s pretty vague and I may be overanalyzing the all thing, but the throwaway line in Hexen Isle “if Velvet could do it…there’s no way I can’t”…again, it’s pretty vague, but it just make some much sense to me)…and if you take the “Stab on the chest” line in the context that we were discussing , she may indeed get hurt by the “less that kind” treatment that she receives from the Menagerie from time to time…but that pain is just another part of her emotions, a side that she may be ready to enter  one more time…

“If that’s what you call ‘evil’, then I will live and die with evil as my mantra!”

…but only after she has an emotional close to all her traumas, in the final fight against Melchior.

Even as absolute follower of the ideas of reason and logic, Melchior is finally defeat by his own love by flowers, his own emotions…it was a stupid move for him in that situation, foolish, a completely irrational act that leads him to be devoured by Velvet…I would say myself but I think Magilou said it better.

Hey…master…Emotions are a real pain, aren’t they?

A real pain in deed, but a necessary one…and, most important of all, one that you can’t really throw away, not even the greatest supporters of reason could cut they are attach to the chains of emotion, not totally at least.

Magilou doesn’t change to much after this but, in the same way than Velvet, we can argue that she, at least, has made peace with the contradictions in herself and her own past, and that she has finally started to embrace this side of herself that she left aside long time ago, her own emotions…and this is show specially in the Majelu side quest, trying to avoid that Majelu and Valta walks to the same path that she and Melchior (a kind gesture born just form  pure empathy…and it is very sweet)… and some of the skits post the battle.

Sorry guys but this skit…it just destroys me…it is so beautiful.

Magilou is an incredible character by herself, but she is also one of the final pieces to complete this great map of Emotion Vs Reason that Berseria wants to shows us.

There is a lot of collateral damage product of this ideological clash, but as with all the other character and their respective arcs, Magilou’s perspective is unique. Meanwhile Velvet is much more proactive about her own situation or Phi which took the better aspect of both sides, Magilou is the one that gets ripped apart by this war and finally ostracize from both sides…living as just that, a contradiction…

All the members of the Menagerie are flawed people, they have a lot of troubles and issues in their backs, but most of them were emotionally functional (and when a mean most, I’m talking about of Mid Game Velvet, which goes to really dark places, to darker to called healthy) and then it is  Magilou…just staying there, apathetic to everything and isolated from everyone…growing to give us that genuine laugh at the end of the game…

and then i just realize how much I have grown fond of her character…

It’s funny; actually, how much this all situation reminds me of other of my favorite character, Jade from Tales of the Abyss.

The snarkiest of the main party, with a military past, funny and sarcastic personas that hide a more apathetic and unfeeling side to themselves, an arc mostly centered in the inner change of their views of the world and themselves and a heartwarming friendship with a main character who has an amazing character arc (And don’t get me wrong, both character are completely different, their purpose, their meaning, etc, etc. I was just pointing some similitudes of two characters that I love from a franchise that I also love).

…I consider Jade one of my favorite characters, and I say that in a general sense, he is one of my favorite characters. PERIOD. And when I thing “Holy shit, I may love Magilou even more than Jade” that means that Magilou may just become one of my favorite characters. PERIOD…

Well maybe it’s a little too early to decide that…but what I can assure right now is that Magilou is an incredible character and my absolute favorite in a cast that is already great.

Magilou is amazing, the Menagerie is amazing and this game has been just an incredible experience.

Part 1: Tales Series Retrospective

Part 2: The Elements of a Wonderfull Game

Part 3: Velvet’s character arc - Blindness and toxicity

Part 4: Rokuro’s and Eleanor’s character arc - Obsession and Conflict.

Part 5: Laphicet (Phi)’s and Eizen’s character arcs - Coexistence and Romanticism.

irdeadite  asked:

I can imagine Oculus findings Chimney's eyeball collection and being very excited about it. How does he feel about not-fresh-out-the-skull eyeballs? Does he enjoy pickled eyes? (I guess that's what you could call em) lol

*cough cough* He has heard about this mighty collection and it really has piqued his interest already. oh to have a taste~ 
But yea, he prefers fresh ones, but pickled and well-preserved are totally in his good books~ He’ll eat anything~ haha!