Being In Love With The Process And Not The Results Is One Of The Healthiest Things In The World

being in love with the process and not the results is one of the healthiest things in the world

recently turned / shy vampire bf drinking from the vein in your neck, trying to control how much he has to take before you pass out, looking at the watch on his wrist from time to time, stopping sucking to ask if you're ok while at the same time struggling with the wicked ideas you make him have.

he feels guilty why is he getting hard?, you smell so good and the sounds you let out when he feeds on you seem like you want him to keep doing it. in search of self-control his hands clutch at your hips, he pulls you to him and is so embarrassed when your thigh bumps against his hard cock.

he stops to look at you. god, he's a mess, you think— pupils dilated and hair slightly sweaty as if he's done the biggest marathon of his life, his chest heaving up and down, a crimson trickle sliding slowly from the corner of his mouth.

you bite your lip looking at his red mouth and he groans as your fingers brush the tent in his jeans— they're so fucking tight, he feels dizzy, with your blood in his throat still warm and your hand pulling his belt out of the way. his big arms trap you against the wall, his long cold fingers ball into fists as he lets out a growl.

"make me cum." he commands, loaded with extreme confidence and a deep voice. your human boyfriend has never spoken to you like this before and the adrenaline and fear flowing through you makes you clench your thighs wishing his icy fingers were splitting your pussy, bumping into the mess he's made of you.

Childe with hints of Foul Legacy's features.

Childe with sharpened canines that aren't noticeable unless he teasingly nips at your fingers or laughs, boisterous and long and just a little bloodthirsty.

Childe with just barely pointed nails, to perfectly tap against any wooden surface when he's impatient.

Childe with cold, deadened eyes, until he tilts his head so the sun hits them just perfectly, jagged fragments of light glittering over his gaze.

Childe with slivers of broken skin over his knuckles, dark armor pushing through in its place that he stubbornly covers with his gloves.

Childe with a longer tongue that only flicks out every once in a while, almost always to stick out playfully at you.

Childe with scars littering his back, rough and torn and star-shaped, permanently stained a dark purple, which he only allows you to touch.

Childe who occasionally, instinctively makes little trilling and cooing noises, the sounds just slipping from his throat. if you listen closely when he's nearby, you can even hear him softly purr.

Childe who nuzzles against you, practically molding his body to fit with yours and rubbing his head against your shoulder before smushing his and your cheeks together, a wide grin on his face.

Childe with some subtle, monstrous traits that make you love him all the more.

⋆˖⁺‧₊for my fellow monsterfuckers₊‧⁺˖⋆

You own the home you live in. The last owners painted the walls of your bedroom a horrible off white.

You fucking hate it. Every day you wake up to off-white walls and off-white ceilings and pass through your off-white door to get to the rest of the house. You feel like you've been locked up in a padded room. It makes you want to die.

So what is there to do? Well, you own the home. Go out and get some paint, a roller or two, and a drop cloth. If the color makes you want to kill yourself, you should obviously change it.

But what if you didn't hate it. What if it just mildly perturbed you? Or maybe what if you didn't, like, reeeeeally mind it all that much, but you knew that another color would make you a lot happier? Does the decision that you come to change?

Sure, it's work moving the furniture out, setting up, painting, making sure you get the edges, cleaning up, letting it all dry, etc, but isn't adding joy to your life worth the effort? Don't you owe it to yourself to subtract mediocrity and add happiness? Do you need to be miserable to envision a better life?

Sylus: *An evil mafia boss who absolutely everyone is afraid of, even his own reflection*

Y/N: *sneezed*

Sylus: I told you to dress warmly. Look at you, all your lips are blue already. Go home quickly! Drink hot tea and under a blanket. Come on, sweet, don't be stubborn.