red velvet couch

melodrama through the eyes of a (fellow) synaesthete

hello everyone! just like lorde herself, i have a strong case of synaesthesia (I get colour visions, but also tastes and scents as well), so this is my attempt to review the masterpiece that is melodrama through my synaesthetical experiences

let’s go

green light: car air freshener, heated highway and the visions you get when you drive in heat (a la mirages), blackberry-scented cheap shower gel, a pistachio green silk scarf, old school adidas kicks, lemon juice drops on fresh summer salad, beige satin, old black cars (a la classic cadillacs and jaguars), maple syrup, the heat of cairo at around 11 am

sober: ripe honeydew, the smell of guitar wood varnish, red satin ribbons, smudged glass coffee tables, spilled lemonade on said tables, peach vodka, the feel of white plaster in old museums where security guards are very strict, cough syrup (both the colour and the flavour), artificial smell of mint, mint gum, velvet red carpeting in old and badly aired town halls, the humidity of rainforest

homemade dynamite: 4 am sunrise straight after a storm with torn dark grey, nearly black clouds being ripped, smell of gasoline, deep puddles in cracked pavement, dimmed street lights about to go out, magenta, white musk perfume from the body shop, deep indigo of the nearly sunrise of mid may, that walk home from a rowdy night out when everyone is more or less sobered up, but not sober enough to feel shy yet, still drunk enough to be honest with affection and cursing and slightly slurred speech

the louvre: bamboo blinds, bamboo shoots, bonsai trees, flowing honey, varnished birchwood, sunlit old halls in ugly grey soviet buildings, silver hellium-filled balloons, white shiny doors between a party-filled room and a closet where hook-ups and one-night stands take place, old oil paint, the sunny, lemon yellow butterflies, muddly skies of july, edelflower syrup in a glass of white wine, edelflower flower crowns, an expensive pool in a mansion-like house in hollywood hills, the eerie comfort and anxiety of the opening credits of twin peaks

liability: massive bouquets of lily of the valley, white lace curtains knitted by a grandmother, greyness of a sunday in a village on a last warm october day, a single light in an office on a late night in a massive skyscraper, dried flowers, drops of nosebleed on a crystal clean white sink, grey that turns into pastel lilac, the feeling of ripped paper

hard feelings/loveless: faint sunrise shining through the windows of a manhattan apartment in a skyscraper, all shades of orange spilling onto a hi-tec kitchen, cointreau liqueur, sunny warm nights on ocean beach, lukewarm bathtubs when the bath foam has fizzled, bonfires and burned marshmallows, just the beginning of feeling buzzed (like a glass of wine in), tender shades of yellow, rustiness of old heavy doors into a basement, scaffolding sounds, first sunniest days of spring after a heavy winter, sunset in the ocean, heavy fluffy sweaters / neon diner signs, anime eyes, porcelain dolls, peach-flavoured bubblegum, glass bowls

sober ii (melodrama): colour of crimson, heavy red velvet couches, smudged matte red lipstick, glass shards, ripped pearl necklaces and scattered pearls on sticky floor, red limelight, stilettos, tight black bodysuits, smoky-eyed tall models in revealing tight and latex dresses, marble furniture with golden decor, fistfights during a party, ripped suits and thrown ties and unbuttoned white shirts on boys with wealthy fathers

writer in the dark: light parakeet green, whitewashed starched tablecloths that crunch, old wooden tables, rusty cages for canaries, Advocat liqueur, big pearl necklaces on black dresses, big sunglasses (a la Audrey’s in Breakfast at Tiffany’s), sunny Sunday mornings on a patio with a cup of fancy tea, sunday clothes, white churches in greece, silver tears and crying in the backseat after a breakup, wilted flowers in a vase with dirty water

supercut: light green and orange, Love Is bubblegum, peaches, apricots, mint, Mojitos, fairy lights above people at a rooftop party, roadtrip one takes after a breakup with all thier belongings, flavoured water that doesn’t quench thirst, sparkling water with lemon and ice cubes, worn down picnic blankets, fancy dresses girls wear to the entrance into a nightclub, folding chairs, chilled champagne

liability (reprise): cold winter wind of february, the feeling on the tip of the tongue from scolding hot tea, big white rooms in museums, light green, light smoke of e-cigarette that smells like peppermint, the smell of sunscreen, the stillness of a swimming pool at noon in heat

perfect places: red wine, swinging chandeliers, red plastic cups, glass grand pianos, the last summer party in august, that warm feeling at the end of the party where everyone’s buzzed and affectionate and there’s a lot of kissing and hugging and swinging, big fake golden earrings, summer fruits, fancy hotels and luxurious lifts/elevators, skinny dipping, black velvet dresses that touch the floor, uncontrollable laughing in comfy sweaters

opulent & eclectic decor

Constellations (M)

Summary: He was the president of one of the most notorious fraternities on campus. You had expected him to be the same as his other brothers – a sex-crazed, binge drinking maniac… But the truth ended up surprising you – in more ways than one.

Genre/Warnings: College!AU, Fratboy!Namjoon. It’s pretty much all fluff up until the smut part… Then my trash self happened and added some dirty talking and teasing, along with slightly rough sex. There’s also swearing.

Word Count: 10.7k. (is it too late now to say sorry?)

A/N: IT’S FINALLY DONE!!! I spent the whole fucking day writing this fic and it is now 2:30 A.M and I’m fucking exhausted. I love this fic so much, okay. It literally feels like I put my entire fucking soul into this (although that might just be the sleep talking lol) but I hope you guys like it!!!

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Hogwarts Common Room Aesthetics

The Slytherin Common Room. The echoing of footsteps against the cold stone floors. A huge room, crowded with objects and people, that still felt empty. Green light filtering in through the windows and causing shadows to dance around the room. The soft swishing noise of the black lake outside the windows. A cold room but a large fireplace at the centre, offering warmth and relaxation after a hard day of work. Tall, wing-backed leather chairs and handmade pillows with glittering embroidery. Intricate stone carvings decorating the high ceilings, many of snakes and statues. Old portraits of wise wizards with pointed hats and long, twisting beards hung up on the wall. Emerald green, grey and silver carpet stretching the length of the room. Round, polished wooden tables with spare parchment, inkwells and spell books piled on top. Cabinets in the corner filled with books and magical artefacts. The feeling of camaraderie in the room without even saying a word.

The Hufflepuff Common Room. The sound of high-pitched laughter filling the air along with the sweet smells of homemade cooking. Bowls and jars and boxes filled with delicious sweets and chocolate to snack on. A mini-bar like counter in the corner where one can get an endless supply of pumpkin juice. A crackling log fire surrounded by colourful cushions, couches, footstools and chairs that you sink into whenever you sit down. A cosy, round room that felt like home the minute you walked into it. Brightly-lit with rays of yellow sunshine streaming in through circular windows. Pot plants lining the wall and flowers hanging down in baskets. Small and worn but sturdy wooden tables dotted around the room, comfortable chairs tucked neatly around them. The buzz of social interaction and happiness. Small bookshelves filled with books about cooking, herbology and childhood tales that one would often reminisce about. Multiple rooms, all running off of one another, that are always filled with chatter and warmth.

The Ravenclaw Common Room. The buzz of satisfaction when you answer the door knocker’s riddle on the first try, and standing around and arguing with it when your answer is wrong. “What do you mean a raven and a writing desk aren’t similar just because they both have an ‘r’?” A high-roofed tower decorated to look like space, in which the tiny painted stars actually twinkled. White walls, columns, arches and exquisite architecture. Crowding around tiny, marble tables with rustic lamps for late night study sessions. Huge, wall-high pristine glass windows that let in white light. Equally high bookshelves crammed with all manner of books - books that are old, tattered and written in foreign languages, hardcover books where the paper glistens and comic books about superheroes brought in by muggleborns. The sound of scratching quills and quiet, excited whispers drifting around the room. Cobalt blue victorian styled chaise lounges with hampton style cushions. Inkwells, parchment and books scattered across the room - on the floor, on tables, on couches. The feeling of acceptance.

The Gryffindor Common Room. A roaring fire encased by a stone hearth, with a house crest carved into the masonry. Low, old, velvet red couches and chairs facing the fire, lighting up faces in a warm orange glow. Small seats but big groups, crowding together, sitting on people’s laps. Traditional red, gold, black and blue decorated drapes hanging down every wall - some detailing artworks of lions, some of wizards and some of horses. Tiny wooden tables with tattered books, brass objects and oil lamps covering their surface. Ebony brown chairs with red cushions half-tucked under the tables. Large, fire-brick coloured chairs facing one another, encouraging conversation. Green, red and gold pillows dotted around the room. Big, faded carpets worn out from being walked over for decades. Chessboards set up around the room, scarves and blankets tossed carelessly onto chairs, decks of cards sprawled over coffee tables. Gold-framed paintings of wizards and witches hanging from creaking wooden rafters. Checkered stone walls and tall, medieval-type stained glass windows. The feeling of safety, comfort and fellowship.


three - october 2012

And, without warning, it was when she got ahold of those green eyes once again that she felt the urge to brush her lips across his pink ones. She wanted to lean over and see what it felt like to be engulfed by him in a way she hadn’t been before. After a year of him, she knew his smooth yet rough sound and his pleasantly different manly smell. She had a whisper of what he felt like with short hugs and nudges to the shoulder. She was well acquainted with the way he looked - half grunge beauty and half pretty boy dimples.

But in no way did she know his taste. She reckoned it was probably too sweet - all that chocolate and strawberry flavored hard candy distorting what he was actually supposed to taste of. He was probably too nice, too lovely, and it wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the world.

read below - story page - thanks to @stylesmyth for that henny manip :)

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Patater photoshoot (nsfw)

(OKAy so this was meant to literally be me just writing down the prompt. But then I ended up writing a whole oneshot… anyways enjoy with a bad quality bit of smut at the end….)

Kent Parson comes out as the first “official" gay player in NHL history. Three weeks later, Alexei Mashkov announces he is bisexual. Reactions from the public are mixed between disgust and acceptance.

The two follow each other on social media, but other than that and a few interactions on the ice, they don’t know each other. After a month or so of them both being out of the closet, they are approached by a very well known magazine. The magazine plans to do an edition about NHL hockey players and want to do an entire five pages of Kent and Alexei. Together. Naked. In extremely suggestive positions.

Something about ”encouraging the public to accept people of different sexualities" is all Kent really knows. He doesn’t care. Mashkov may have agreed to it because spreading awareness is important to him, but Kent is only agreeing for one reason. Publicity. The fact that Mashkov is incredibly sexy and Kent has had a crush on him for months has nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.

So Kent shows up to the photoshoot. He’s whisked away immediately by stylists who wax almost all of his body hair. Makeup is applied all over his body to cover up blemishes and imperfections. Then his eyebrows are groomed and filled, his hair is styled and he’s been changed into a pair of tight, short, black under armour boxers.

Once he’s finally done being made beautiful, he’s lead to the first room they will be shooting in. Mashkov is already there. The lucky bastard hasn’t been waxed, Kent notices immediately. The second thing he notices is how fucking huge the man is. Yeah, he’s seen him on the ice before, but cmon, everyone looks big in hockey gear.

Wow, those back muscles are amazing. And shoulders and legs and okay literally every muscle on Mashkov’s body is toned to perfection.

Eventually Mashkov turns around and notices Kent standing in the room. Kent’s eyes immediately wander south, seeing he’s wearing similar under armour boxers, only his are dark grey and about two inches longer. They really don’t leave much to the imagination and Kent has to force himself to look away from Mashkov’s bulge.

He looks back up and meets Mashkov’s eyes, blushing lightly as he sees the man’s slight smirk. Great, he was caught checking him out.
“Um, I’m Kent Parson, from the Las Vegas Aces…“ he introduces himself quietly, sticking out his hand. The other hockey player smiles and shakes his hand gently. “Hello, little captain. I’m Alexei Mashkov. You call me Alexei,” he replies, and holy shit that Russian accent is hot.
“So I guess we’ll be shooting together today?“ Kent tries to make small talk. “Yes, I’m very excite,” Alexei says enthusiastically. Kent is about to reply when a woman and a man who Kent assumes are from the magazine approach them.

”I see you’re all warmed up to each other, huh? Great, well if you are both ready we are going to start now,“ the woman says. She’s very tall and gives off the impression that she’s a hard worker. Kent likes her already. “I’m Kara, with my co-marketing manager, Brian. We will be here to instruct you through out the session. If either of you have any questions or are uncomfortable with the poses don’t hesitate to say anything. Alright?” Before Kent or Alexei can reply, Brian is gently pushing them off in the direction of the set.

The set is simple, three white walls and a white floor to match. Kara tells them to stand in the centre of the room.
“Good! Now Kent, dear, angle yourself directly at the camera, and look down at the piece of masking tape- yes there, perfect.“ Kent feels more than awkward, standing there while the photographers, assistants and other workers watch intently.

“Okay, now Alexei, stand behind him with your hands on his waist.” Kent hears movement and then a pair of large hands grip his hips. The touch causes his face to redden and he ignores the tingly feeling he gets up his spine.
“A bit low there, Alexei, but I like your enthusiasm,“ Kara says, glancing between the two men and a clipboard. Alexei coughs awkwardly behind him and slides his hands up a few inches, wrapping them around Kent’s waist. “Wow you have small waist,” the Russian murmurs behind him. Usually Kent takes pride in his feminine features, but now he’s just struggling to keep the pink out of his cheeks.

“Okay, now move closer together.“ Alexei moves forwards a step and Kent feels his presence, along with warm breath on his hair. “Closer, please. As in touching. And wrap your arms around his waist, it will feel more natural.”

Alexei has to bend slightly so his arms fasten around Kent’s waist. Soon he feel’s the large man’s crotch pressing against his behind, along with his toned upper body against Kent’s back and shoulders. The run of Alexei’s skin against his own is insanely satisfying. Kent couldn’t stop his blushing if he tried.

“Perfect! Now Kent, focus on the ground and try to look shy… yes, that’s good. Alexei, stare right into the camera. Looking dominant and confident… yes, just like that, FREEZE!“ As Kent stares at the ground, looking shy, the camera goes off and he can’t help the feeling he’s getting from being pressed against the other hockey player.

They do more poses that aren’t so bad, like just simple hugging and hand holding. Alexei and Kent begin getting more comfortable and stop looking so guarded in the pictures. Brian claims they want to try everything. Kent isn’t sure if he can make it through everything without getting a boner.

They are lead into the next room with an actual set. It’s made to look like a fancy living room, with a large velvet red couch in the middle. Mashkov offers him a sweet smile of reassurance which makes Kent’s heart skip a beat.

“Alexei, lying on the couch please, with your feet on this end and head at this end.” The hockey player follows instructions, laying across the velvet piece of furniture. Kent struggles to keep his mind out of the gutter as he watches the attractive man get into position.
“Kent, honey, go sit on him, with your legs on either side of him.“ Kent rolls his eyes at Kara, “You can just say straddle him, you know. You don’t need to give me fancy instructions,” he says. This earns a few laughs from the lady.

Kent takes a deep breath and moves towards Alexei, who’s watching him intently with deep brown eyes. C'mon, Kent has done this multiple times in real situations, why can’t he just fake it this time?
“Uh, you’re okay with this?“ Kent whispers to Alexei, waiting for the small smile and nod that follows. Kent smiles back, before climbing onto the large man, straddling his hips. Kent settles over Alexei’s crotch, his cheeks turning bright red as Alexei let’s out a soft huff of air before biting his lip. Kent’s entire body is on fire. “You very pretty,” Alexei whispers softly. “Sorry I’m not control body well,“ he adds, his face growing red to match Kent’s. Kent feels butterflies in his stomach. “Thank you, it’s okay, me too,” he says quietly. Alexei’s smile makes his heart flutter and they don’t break eye contact, even when they hear the camera going off.

“This is going well boys, you two have a lot of chemistry,“ Kara says. Kent breaks his gaze away from Alexei’s adoring one, accidentally shifting slightly over the man’s growing bulge. Alexei lets out another soft huff of air, that sounded oddly similar to a quiet moan. He looks back at the man and smiles sheepishly, but sees him with his eyes shut as if he’s concentrating really hard on something. Speaking of hard…

The camera goes off again as Kent watches Alexei. Kent doesn’t think he’s ever met a more gorgeous man.

“Kent, grab Alexei’s arms and hold them above his head on the couch arm.” Kent’s face manages to grow even redder as Alexei offers him his wrists. He leans forwards so he can reach, causing him to rub against Alexei again, and this time it’s him who lets out a loud, embarrassing moan. Alexei’s eyes look oddly hopeful as he looks down at the man bashfully. This should be much more awkward than it is.

“Maybe we should take a short break, try this again in fifteen?“ Kara suggests, and Kent gives her a playful glare as she giggles to herself. Kent feels Alexei’s hands on his waist as the man sits up, then he lifts Kent off of him and places him on his feet as if he weighs nothing. Seriously? Is everything about this man sexy? How can he just pick Kent up like that?

“I’m go water,” Alexei mumbles, scratching the back of his neck and offering Kent a small smile before he heads out of the room. Kara smirks at Kent as he stands there, watching the larger hockey player leave.
“Oh, be quiet you,“ he says, blushing for the hundredth time. “I haven’t even said anything yet!” She giggles. “But look, if you think he’s attractive you should go for it.“ Kent isn’t sure why he’s taking advice from an almost stranger. He shrugs and sits back down on the couch. “I don’t think he’s interested,” he says sadly. “I wish he was though. I’ve been crushing on him since he was drafted in 2010. I was 17 at the time and I may or may not have had his poster in my bedroom.“ Kara laughs loudly at this, and places her clipboard down on the prob table nearby.
“That’s a hilarious story. But listen honey, he’s definitely into you. The whole time we were waiting for you to arrive, he was asking all the assistants if he looked okay for you,” she tells him. Kent’s heart flutters with hope. “And they were all like, ‘he’s a gay man and you are wearing tiny boxers, I’m sure he’ll think you look good…’“ Kent laughs, just as Alexei walks back into the room, wearing a different pair of boxers.
“Brian tell me put these on,” he says, and then yawns, touching his hands to his neck as his upper body stretches. Kent’s eyes may or may not watch as the man’s skin strains against his muscles.

“Are you both ready to start again?“ Kara asks. Alexei sits on the couch beside Kent, reaching an arm onto his shoulders. “I’m ready. You okay? Looking cold,” Alexei says, as an explanation for putting his arm around the small captain. Kent blushes and nods. Kara giggles to herself again.
“Okay sorry, but I totally ship you guys. Anyways, maybe you guys can come up with some of your own poses. The pictures so far have turned out better when you didn’t know we were taking them…“ Alexei nods beside him, his hand gently rubbing circles into Kent’s shoulder. He’s flirting, right?
“Maybe I have idea,” he says, standing and pulling Kent to his feet. “I’m pick you up?“ He asks with a raised eyebrow. Kent nods and Alexei smiles wide at him before wrapping his large hands around his thoughts and pulling him up. Kent goes willingly, wrapping his legs around Alexei’s waist.
“You have a nice smile,” he says quietly. He feels Alexei’s hand gently squeeze his leg. “You have nice everything,“ he says back. Kent is sure he is blushing as Alexei holds his gaze. The camera goes off a few times, making Kent remember where he is.

“Maybe Alexei can hold Kent against the wall? It will make the pose seem more… provocative…”

Next thing Kent knows is he’s being held up against the wall, with Mashkov’s hips holding him in place. Kent’s hard. He couldn’t stop it from happening, okay?! Alexei is really attractive and the idea of him
fucking Kent against the wall is really hot.

Kent has his arms around Alexei’s neck, head tilted back against the wall, his eyes shut and his mouth hung open as if he were letting out a loud moan. Alexei has his face buried in Kent’s neck as he holds the small man up. The shot is from the waist up, making it really look like Kent is being fucked by the other hockey player.
“I’m get many chirps for this…“ Alexei mumbles.

After that the two are a lot more comfortable with each other, as far as the sexual poses go. They do a lot more. Kent’s favourite was when he was bent over the couch, with Mashkov standing pressed against him like they were fucking again. Alexei has a boner through out most of it, and Kent bites his lip every time he feels it press against his bum.

“So, this magazine is like lowkey a big porno?” Kent inquires, as he gets into another slightly awkward position with Mashkov.
“I’m not minding. I’m get talk to and touch boy with beautiful body,“ Alexei says, then mumbles something to himself in Russian. Kent flushes, his stomach dipping.
“You think I’m beautiful?” He asks, as his arms wind around Alexei’s neck for the pose. Alexei’s hands grip his ass. “I’m thinking so. I’m also think you like me,“ he whispers, smirking down at Kent. “Hey, don’t get all cocky just cause your hands are on my ass.” The camera goes off. “It’s very nice,“ Alexei says with a shrug, moving his hands up to rest on the small of his back instead. “Well thanks,” Kent is definitely not blushing again.

The next pose is quite simple, just a hug from behind. Alexei decides to be bold and press his lips to the soft skin in the crook of Kent’s neck. Kent shivers, and then Alexei starts sucking a hickey into his skin. Kent’s knees go weak and he moans loudly, cursing to himself when the camera goes off to capture the moment.
“I’m not sure they’re acting…“ Kara mumbles to one of the assistants. Alexei asks for another break. Everyone leaves the room, closing the door behind them and as soon as they’re alone, Alexei resumes kissing his neck.

Kent moans quietly and tilts his head back against Alexei’s chest. The taller man trailed a hand down Kent’s chest and stomach, before dipping into Kent’s boxers. Kent bites his lip as Alexei takes hold of his cock, slowly pumping as he sucks on his neck. Kent is a moaning mess. “Cum,” Alexei whispers in his ear huskily. Kent is about to make a comment about how he can last longer than five seconds, when Alexei nips at his ear and whispers again, “Cum for me princess.“ It’s the rough, Russian accent that has
Kent releasing in his boxers as Alexei strokes him. “F-fuck Alexei…” he mumbles, moving away from the larger man. He blushes as he turns to look at him.
“That was so hot. I’ve literally never finished so quickly…“ he says sheepishly. His body is tingling as Alexei smiles lazily at him. “I’m make you cum again later if you are wanting. I’m make you whenever you are wanting,” he says, wrapping his long arms around Kent’s waist. Kent smiles, before leaning up to kiss the man softly. “I’m definitely wanting.“

Plan Gone Wrong

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x OC (female!OC)
Genre: Gang!AU, Law Enforcement!AU, Angst, Friendship, Slight-Comedy, & Slight-Romance
Words: 3,563
Song(s) That Inspired Me: Fire (MAMA 2016 Ver) | 21st Century Girl | Deeply Love | Everlasting Love
POV: 3rd Person

Summary: After having been separated for almost an year, the five lethal members of Mystics is called together by their agency head to tackle a special mission–and it’s all thanks to Bangtan. It is no secret that they had history, however, any sense of commodity has been thrown out the window when these seven boys decided to upgrade their criminal charges and target the female agents. Now, with their backs against the wall, the agency decided it was time to send in their special task force. Yeah. Good Idea. PSYCHE!

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Bare Your Teeth and Dig Your Grave

What is this? I have no idea. Character study? Inferences? Headcanons? Who knows my friends.

Any way time to thank @liketolaugh-dgm and her friends @nea-writes @lpwrites @allxnwalkxr for giving me points on characterization in an ask because they’re way better than meeeee

Summary: The General has a lot of information that no one knows. The most important piece, he thinks, is the fact that Allen Walker has always been a pretty creepy child.

Part 1/??? will maybe be a stand alone if people think it sucks??

Characters: Cross, Allen Walker, Lvellie, mentions of Link

Warnings: Cussing, slight mental breakdowns, very very vague illusions (?) to blood and very nasty eating habits

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elfsplaining  asked:

prompt - modern AU stripper surana giving Solas a lap dance, he *greatly* approves

Glimpses: Lonely Elf in the Corner

Rating: M

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Solas x Surana

Warnings: Mention of sex work

This work is part of a series. { I II }

“You seem off tonight.” Solas looked up, drawn from his stupor by a tall, thin woman in dark high heels and a tight-fitting velvet dress. He’d know her voice anywhere, and her body from any angle. Eirwen wore a curious, almost-concerned expression even as she stepped back to let another dancer pass. “I mean, you’re usually pretty weird, but you’re, like, extra dissociative.”

He sighed and shook his head, not bothering to force a smile. “Ir abelas, da’len. I have been better.”

She eyed his suit, noting how he’d already loosened his tie and apparently hadn’t ironed his shirt recently. “Anything I can help with?” He didn’t answer her at first, then nodded. 

“Perhaps. A Boulevardier. No -two.”

“You- wow, you don’t usually get bourbon this early. You know it’s only nine, right?”

He chuckled softly. “I am aware of the time, yes. Please, da’len, you know I tip well.” She nodded and left him for the bar, more concerned than she’d like to be about his state of mind. They were dance partners, that’s all. Casual acquaintances. They owed each other nothing, and she certainly had no business worrying about him. 

But in their practices, usually before her work or on her days off, they were close. For a few short hours they were the only people in the room, and she could dance for an audience of one. There was something at once both intimate and isolating in those quiet moments, in the way he held her when he dipped her low or how his chest felt pressed to hers. 

He was always so professional with her, so restrained. Though he never had a problem touching her, he was stone-faced and silent while the music played -unless he was giving her instructions. And mostly, it was perfect. She didn’t want to do this for him, she wanted it for herself. He was there to help her get what she wanted and nothing more. 

Still, the subtle pain in his eyes made him more. They could be friends. They could be more.

With her almost-instinctual flirtatious smile she returned to him, carrying a tray of drinks. “Two Boulevardiers, for the lonely elf in the corner.”

He rolled his eyes but thanked her. “This is hardly a corner. I am in the center of the room.”

“Yeah, but the quiet part.” She paused, watching him down his cocktail far too fast to enjoy it. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” he replied, his voice flat and clear.

“Oh, okay, ouch.”

“I did not mean…” He sighed heavily and sat back in his chair. “There is no need to burden you. It will not affect our dancing, or how much I pay you.”

She said nothing after that, just replayed his words in her head. Somehow, she tended to forget about the money. He paid her handsomely for her time, for every practice. He always bought dinner if they went out, and tipped her highly whenever he was at the club. That, she knew, had to complicate their relationship. 

“A private dance,” he said suddenly, and she pulled herself from her trance to look at him. 

“Yeah, we do that a lot.”

“No. You know what kind I mean.” He was almost done with his second drink. She watched him, eyes flicking between his glass and his face. “In a private room.”

“Oh!” She blinked, surprised both at herself for being so oblivious and at him for asking at all. He’d never asked for a private dance, he never even stayed close to the stage. He was more the type to hang back nearer the bar, watching, drinking, occasionally chatting up a waitress or two. “Of course. Now?”

He hesitated a moment, finished his drink, then nodded with a cringe. “You have… very strong cocktails here.”

“You ordered very strong cocktails.” She crossed her arms and watched him stand with a slight wobble. “Solas, come on. You’re being… weird.”

“I will be fine,” he said, attempting a lighter tone. “I will have a Bone Dry Martini, then just water.”

“I… seriously?”

He smirked sideways at her and she sighed. “Alright. Go to the private rooms in the back, tell the bouncer Eirwen sent you. I’ll meet you there shortly with your drink.” He nodded and stood, walking with surprising coordination towards a large human bouncer standing outside a long and narrow hallway.

She got him his drink and joined him in a sizable, curtained-off room with a red velvet couch and small black tables at either end. He glanced up when she walked in, smiling distantly. 

As she set his drink down she gently pushed him back again the seat, using one finger on his shoulder. “Whatever this is… you are sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“It is better not to. Besides,” he eyed her, blue eyes sweeping down her slim figure. “I am here for you tonight, da’len.”

She raised an eyebrow and laughed, her voice soft. “For me? I’m flattered. Are you not always here for me?” She saw how his gaze faltered, locking on her hips for a moment before he forced them back to her eyes. 

“I misspoke. You are right.” He sipped his martini and loosened his tie even more, eyes narrowing. “I am always here for you.”

“Good.” She eased herself into his lap, one knee on either side of him. “Do you know the rules?”

“No touching.” He smirked. “I would never.”

“Mm… I’d hate to see you thrown out.” She reached above him, her small breasts briefly in his face and her back arched as she pressed a few buttons over his head. The music from outside seemed to dull as another song played over it, a slow but bass-heavy beat overlaid with aching female vocals. She shifted back to him, smirking. “Unfortunately, you have already seen much of what I can do.”

His eyes darkened and he held his hands at his sides, trying to keep his gaze on her face. “I highly doubt that.”

She laughed, a sound that sent a shudder through his blood. As they music built she slowly rolled her hips, rocking them back and forth, her dress hitching to the top of her thighs. He could just barely see the bright blue of her lace panties when she drew her body back, bending impressively, showing him how flexible she really was.

She returned to him, dark hair partially covering her face. There was a slight part to his lips, a hunger in his eyes. This was working. She eased back from him, standing slowly, spreading her legs to let him appreciate the hard-won muscles of her thighs and calves. Moving in perfect time, keeping sync with the music as it swelled and swayed and bounced, she strode a few steps away from him and bent over, letting him see the pert shelf of her ass. The lace of her underwear barely covered anything, and he could just barely see the outline of her outer labia through the fabric -or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

She stood, looking at him over her shoulder with a devilish smirk. He forced himself to return her expression, having only then realized he was almost slack-jawed. 

With deliberate, calculated movements she crept back to him, climbing into his lap, biting her lower lip. His hands twitched at his side, his empty glass sitting on the table. She saw the slight movement, knew he was losing control, and suddenly grabbed his wrists. He gasped quietly, looking up at her, his arms pinned above his head and held back against the wall. She leaned in, using his wrists for leverage, so close their lips could touch. 

“That’s enough,” he hissed. 

“What?” She breathed, unable to hide her alarm. She eased herself off him, letting him stand -or try to. He stumbled and braced himself against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut. “Are you going to be sick? There’s a trash can right there…”

He shook his head and leaned into the wall, breathing. “I have to go.”

“No, you’ve had too much. Just… let me call you a cab at least.”

“I can walk. It’s fine.” He turned around, blinking hard, and she walked up to him. She put a gentle hand on his upper arm and squeezed, attempting to ground him. “Da’len… I’ll see you tomorrow. Just… let me go.”

“Solas…” he pushed past her, stumbling back into the hallway. For a few heartbeats she stared after him, heart racing and thoughts a mess. Then her eyes widened, and anger flared in her veins. “Hey! You bastard, get back here!” She walked outside, heels clicking loudly, and saw him leaving through a backdoor. There was already a bouncer going after him. “You didn’t pay!”

{ to be continued }

if you enjoyed this fic, please hit the reblog button on this post. comments are cool but not necessary -you can leave no tags, a keysmash, or even just ‘nice’ if you’d like! thanks for your support -arden <3 

MidoTaka MiniFic - Well Hung

Title: Well Hung
Characters/Pairing: Midorima/Takao mentions of KagaKuro and MuraHimu
Rating: T for innuendo
Summary: Given enough rope, Shintarō will use it.      
Words: 687 (Read here or on AO3).

Well Hung

“Are you serious?” Takao cackled loudly as he let his head fall back against the red velvet couch. “How big are we talking about?”

“Can’t even stand up on its own,” Kuroko said solemnly. “Too heavy,” he explained.  

Takao’s eyes bulged as his jaw dropped. “Seriously?” he asked, sounding thoroughly impressed.

Kuroko nodded vigorous and Takao gasped audibly.

“I can show you a picture, if you’d like,” Kuroko offered.

“Alright,” Takao agreed as he eagerly scooted closer to Kuroko to have a look at Kuroko’s phone.

“Himuro-kun sent it to Kagami-kun who sent it to me,” Kuroko explained. “See,” he said. “It’s just sitting there between his legs.”

“No way!” Takao exclaimed. “It’s enormous!”

“It is indeed,” Kuroko agreed. “Himuro-kun nearly cried when he saw it. He told Kagami-kun he’s not sure he can handle it. He wants to give it a good home, but he doesn’t know what he’s gonna do with it or where he’s gonna stick it.”  

Shintarō slammed his lucky pencil down rather loudly. He had had enough of this crude conversation. He got up from his perch at the dining room table where he’d been trying to study – trying being the operative word.

He was in med school, so naturally he had a lot of school work and Takao, by comparison, had a lot of down time. They shared an apartment and so Shintarō tried not to mind so much when Takao had friends over but this, this was beyond the pail.

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Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader Insert 

Genre: angsty 

Summary: matt can’t seem to shake off something that happened to you, that he believes was his fault. 

Words: 1,251

His calloused and bruised hand was resting gently on your waist, while his other hand held yours up in the air. His glasses were off, per your request, so his eyes rested on your chin. His face wasn’t shaved smooth, but it wasn’t beardy either; just the perfect amount of stubble.

The jazz band had started to play a soft tune, and that was when Matt asked you to dance.  You were surprised he agreed to going to Tony’s gala, given the physical state he was in, so it was a shocker that he wanted to move at all. Your first response was to ask if he was sure, and he replied with, “I don’t want to keep taking away these moments from you.”

“We talked about this, Matt,” you replied quietly, “you’re not ruining this relationship.”

“Just please,” he said, “I want to make this right.”

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Otayuri secret love AU

Inspired by « Into you » - Ariana Grande

- Yuri is celebrity, feathers, leather, fluffy stuff, large coats, pastel pink clothes, long and brilliant hair

- he’s JJ’s boyfriend, canadian singer, songrwitter, King™

- at the begining they seem so much in love, JJ’s stealing kisses from Yuri’s lips after concerts, taking him to clubs and dancing with him

- we won’t talk about all their dirty games here -

- but as soon as Yuri is taking it seriously, JJ thinks that he owns Yuri so he cares less

- Yuri highly dislikes this and starts getting jealous af during all their parties

- once, drunk as hell, he finds himself with his bodyguard, the Kazakh one, who brings him safely to home

- Yuri is a huge mess, and starts crying because the hell, his boyfriend doesn’t care about him, he flirts everytime he’s around or not and fuck he can’t get enough of this

- he sits on the red velvet of the couch, wearing a pink crop top, a fake furr on his shoulders, blue shorts, one side of his hair braided and the other waving on his shoulder

- he asks the bodygurad his name, « Otabek » and he asks him to stay here for the night, because he’s not really ok and Otabek hasn’t other choice : he must accept

- the next morning, JJ comes back, drunk as hell and falls on the bed without noticing that Yuri has left with Otabek

- he asked Otabek to take him to the mall, so he did, they took a Starbuck together, talked a lot about everything and nothing -but a lot about JJ-

- Yuri truely appreciated this morning, he even found Otabek really Otabae

- everybody was thinking that JJ was a lucky bastard, Otabek was no exception

- one day, they came a little bit too far, kissing each other : oops

- in fact, Yuri didn’t care about JJ anymore, he was falling for Otabek and there was no other choice

- Otabek became his personnal bodyguard, because JJ thaught that he was just getting close to Yuri for the job and trusted Otabek -poor baby JJ he shouldn’t-

- « A little less conversation, a little more touch my body » -  Yuri Plisetsky to Otabek Altin

- at every party, Otabek is here, watching at Yuri -who seems annoyed af- and the little russian angel is smiling back at him

-  « Baby, let’s keep this secret  » - Yuri Plisetsky while kissing Otabek Altin

anonymous asked:

Are you a photographer? What sort of set up would you have for louis? Nude photography?

no i’m not a photographer! but i do love to imagine concepts for photo shoots of louis.

some of my fav settings are:
•laundromat at night, with hanging plants and neon lights illuminating him
•a nature setting, either in a forest or a field, maybe a small lake. taken at misty morning or bright, hot evening
•an old fashioned living room with a fireplace, large red velvet couch, and white fur rug, louis smoking, and a glass of champagne on the floor
•headshots of louis with minimal makeup, but lots of highlighter. coloured lights shimmering off of his face and emphasizing his golden skin

i have a side blog for louis aesthetics if you’re interested! @louisconcept
Christmas Enemy // c.h

Originally posted by bestpicsof5sos

credit to the original owner of this gif

Requested: yes

Pairing: Y/N x Calum

Series: Paid to be Popular - The Purpose of Love - Bittersweet Generation

Description: Calum and Y/N hate each other, but have to deal with the pain since the annual Christmas Party is coming near. Unfortunately, the party doesn’t turn out as they thought when they both get locked inside - alone.

The snow hit your nose as you hurried inside. Michael was greeting you with a wide smile and cup of hot chocolate. It had been a tradition that the boys would gather their beloved friends to London and have some sort of crazy party usually involving getting drunk, stoned, high, whatever they could find and probably making some terrible Christmas decorations, always throwing them out the next day.

“Cal isn’t here yet,” Michael said as you threw your black boots covered in white snow in the corner and gave him your scarf and jacket before entering the house. Every year it was a new celebration, new house, new people. Expect for you. You had been invited to these parties since the very beginning.

You walked from the small entrance to a giant living room. It was such a cosy house with only one floor. Luke was sitting down by the fireplace with his girlfriend and Ashton was pouring up some sort of eggnog to himself, probably for the third time. Luke and his girl were leaning up against a red velvet couch, not sitting on it like normal people would do. Beside the couch stood a table on a pretty carpet and the wooden walls were filled with creepy, but nice paintings. You were pretty early, but as soon as you saw at least five other people walking around the room, you sighed for not being one of the firsts -  but still being before that asshole of a bassist. 

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The couch sagged on the left,

it was like all the things I’d left unsaid,

The indent remained but he did not,

every time I looked at it,

I was reminded and I could see the reason he left me,

It was as thou the couch and I were one,

it sagged on the left,

a bitter remain,

where we hugged and laughed

and now it felt stained,

I can’t sit there you know,

it just looks at me and reminds of who I used to be,


A maiden fair,

now a husk of that velvet flair,

I know I should throw it out,

Discard the sagging couch,

but it gently reminds me,

Sometimes the worn seats are the most comfortable and make you feel at home not stuck on leather loneliness or vinyl vexation, but a red velvet couch and a place to rest my cheek.

Protective—Neymar Imagine

anonymous said: Can u do one were me and Neymar are dating and I’m pregnant and me and Rafa and Davi are out shopping and we get mobbed by the paps trying to get a pic of my stomach and I get afraid and when we go home Neymar finds out and get angry and gets very protective for the rest of my pregnancy please.

thanks for the details, it made this easier to write!
I wrote this today, so it’s posted earlier than expected.


“Okay I’m just gonna steal your girls for the afternoon, we need some girl time and Y/N probably vomits from time to time looking at your face,” Rafa teased; referring to both me and my belly. Neymar threw a pillow at her; which missed by a long shot. 

I laughed, “We’ll be back soon, Ney.”

“Whatever you say meu amor, but going shopping with Rafa is a death wish,” Neymar shot a glare at Rafa’s direction as she threw the pillow back at him. Davi ran down the stairs quickly all of a sudden and grabbed my hand.

"Y/N! I want to come too.” He squealed. I nodded and picked him up, kissing him lightly on the cheek. “Of course, baby.” I smiled kindly towards him and he nuzzled into the crook of my neck. Neymar heaved a long sigh and plopped down onto the couch.

“First my girlfriend and soon to-be daughter, now you’re taking my son. Who’s next? Poker?” Neymar snapped jokingly at Rafa. She shook her head disapprovingly and ruffled his hair before skipping down the stairs.

“See you!” I waved, starting down the stairs with Davi in my arms. Him, squeezing my bloated tummy. Neymar rushed over to me and kissed my head.

“Not even a goodbye kiss,” Neymar shook his head.

I giggled, “You just gave me one.”

“That doesn’t count, I had to run like three meters to catch you,” Neymar joked and pretended to pant and rubbed his back hand across his forehead; acting to sweat. I rolled my eyes and smiled sweetly.

"Sorry I don’t kiss sweaty guys, that’s nasty,” I laughed and lightly pushed him back; giving me enough time for me and Davi to rush downstairs (as quickly as I could) and walk out the door, slamming it behind us. 

Rafaella honked the horn of her Range Rover as me and Davi walked towards the car. She revved up the engine and slid her seat belt on as I helped Davi into his car seat, buckling him in safely and shutting the door. I slid into the passenger seat and buckled my seat belt and Rafa turned to me before driving.

“I thought you and Neymar were doing something dirty, considering how long you took to get out here,” She eyed me and my cheeks flushed.

“You know me better than that,” I joked.

Rafa shrugged, “Do I?” I playfully nudged her as the Range Rover sped off.

Rafa had been holding two bags on each forearm plus her purse, which weighed as much as an anvil. I was surprised that her arms weren’t falling off. Davi was dragging his feet across the white floor of the mall as Rafa entered another store.

“Oi, Rafa are we going to leave soon?” I called after her. We walked into a vintage clothing store and Rafa was already pulling shirts and dresses off the racks. Davi started whining, “Y/N I wanna leave…”

“I know I know, we’ll only be a few more minutes, I promise,” I assured him, then picked him up along with my two bags. I hadn’t bought too much. Just a summer dress and a few tops, but Rafa was going all out with her credit card.

“Yeah, well Neymar told me specifically to get you a beautiful dress because he’s taking you out soon so…” Rafa trailed off, and she grabbed my hand leading Davi and I out of the store.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

Rafaella laughed aloud, “Well actually no, I just want you to buy something beautiful, not that your other clothes aren’t incredibly stylish and chic.”

“Please never use the word chic.”

“Alright let’s just go buy you a fancy dress,” Rafa dragged me into an elegant store with several dresses and fancy furniture. The walls were painted pale pink and there was gold and white wall paper all over the store. I raised my eyebrows and eyed Rafaella.

“Is this too fancy?” I asked concernedly and Rafa shook her head and ran off; checking prices on the dresses and pulling them off the racks. I laughed at her and set a now sleeping Davi on one of the red velvet couches and took off for Rafa, though I didn’t know if any dresses would fit me considering I was pregnant. I checked my watch worrying if Neymar would wonder if we were never coming home, it read 10:00.

“Alright, Rafa c’mon it’s getting really late,” I encouraged and she threw me (quite literally) a violet dress and a sparkly silver cross body sleeve and a trail of sparkles that led down to the end of the dress. She handed me a jade colored strapless dress with several jewels at the waist. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll be able to fit into the these when my niece pops into the world,” Rafaella teased.

We then bought the dresses and Rafa bought a silver and gold one and soon Davi took Rafa’s hand and we were out of that store. I checked my phone and found that I got several notifications; Rafa had posted a picture of me and Davi caught off guard. I smirked and double tapped, when my eyes wandered around my screen, uh oh

“Rafa did you accidentally geo tag us?” I eyed her and she checked her phone and her expression hardened.

“Merda,” Rafa cursed, “Oi, I’m sorry. Let’s get to the car." 

We walked quickly down the escalators and through the mall rapidly so that we could maybe beat the paparazzis that would soon be at the mall. They were extremely crazy with Neymar, and crazy with me and Rafa too. Right on cue, Rafa swung the glass doors open and the blinding flashes were only what I saw as we exited. The clicks and yells: “Y/N OVER HERE!”


I grew nervous and Rafaella and Davi were nowhere to be seen, I silently cursed and the paparazzi grew closer to me and someone suddenly appeared out of nowhere and the camera blinded my vision and someone harshly shoved me as I fell on my side. Pain shot through my body, making me worried about my baby. Rafa suddenly came to my side with Davi and helped me up.

“You monsters! Back up, she’s pregnant!” Rafa yelled.

After a few minutes of shoving, we pushed ourselves out of the mob and eventually we jumped into Rafa’s Range Rover. She swiftly steered us away from them and onto the highway. Rafa rubbed my arm softly and that’s when the tears finally fell and we drove home quickly.


I slammed the car door behind me and rubbed my eyes hastily so that my tears wouldn’t be visible. I unlocked the door and was greeted with a fuming Neymar. He had the television remote and his iPhone 6 in his hands and raised his eyebrows at me.

Meu amor, what’s up?” I faked a smile. 

His expression hardened, “Why did I have to find out from some news reporter that you fell hard on your side!” He shouted. “Are you okay? Is our baby girl okay?”

He walked up the stairs, with me on his heels and he flopped onto the couch. He tiredly gave me a look and exasperatedly rolled his eyes at the television. He made his way over to me and held his hands around my bloated stomach. That’s when he started crying. He had never shown his weak side, he was always expected to be the strong one.

“She’s fine, we’re fine,” I assured him and he looked up at me with his puffy eyes and gave me a half-hearted smile. I smiled back and then kissed him; our lips moving in perfect synchronization. His tears felt moist against my lips and his lips tasted salty. We broke away and he caressed my cheek.

“I’m sorry I yelled, it’s just that she’s so special and I don’t want anything to happen to her,” Neymar explained. “She’s my princesa, you’re minha rainha. I love you both so much.”

“Cuddle me too!” A voice cried, and Davi soon came rushing in with Rafa. Neymar playfully roared and tickled Davi as he burst into a fit of giggles. Neymar kissed my tummy and my lips once again and smiled lovingly.

“Sorry, it’s just I get really protective over minha familia,” Neymar apologized. “I think I broke a vase thinking about someone hurting you.”

We all burst out laughing.

“If you ask me, it’s kinda hot when you’re protective,” I teased, as I stood up and Neymar stood up as well.

“That’s it, come here you!” Neymar laughed as I ran upstairs, with him on my heels and the giggles of Davi and Rafa filled the room.

I love this family. My family now.

hope you like this anon, I kinda switched it so the girl fell, so Neymar had a reason to be extra protective. I kinda wrote this just when I came back from school, okay I should shut up now. Thanks for the request it was fun to write!