#I'm trying but it's not even a little bit consistent

[pinkrangerv]

Oh, the Virgin of Guadalupe is so much more than that, too.

In Catholicism, the saints are departed souls who sometimes help God out with miracles and such. Mary, being a mom who loves her Son, also does so; it's a kind of special 'saint+' thing with her.

She's appeared to convert various nations before. And conversion involved varying degrees of bloodshed...until Latin America. Then it involved *flat-out massacres*.

I'm on mobile so linking is difficult (my phone needs upgrading so I can have two tabs open at once), but basically various European nations saw the Americas and said 'hey, free slaves!'. To which a minor hero of the Vatican said 'you can't just say it's okay to enslave non-Christians and kidnap folks; morality of slavery aside, the religion bit was intended for folks who actually knew what Christianity is in the first place and rejected it. These guys really obviously aren't that, no slaves for you'.

He was legally completely correct on many levels. So after the politicos agreed to run on that provided he never ever invoked it for Africans--and the poor bastard decided to save who he could and agreed--the politicos...sent missionaries to climb on the roof of a public building, recite what I'm going to say was John 3:16 (because that is the most lied-about verse ever) IN A LANGUAGE NO ONE SPOKE, and when there was not a mass conversion, rampage through slaughtering the place and presumably enslaving the survivors.

Mary, when visions of her appeared, were normally visions of a white woman in blue robes. (No idea why, but it's really damn consistent. The blue especially; it still is considered a fashion tribute to Mary for a girl to wear sky or pastel blue in a lot of Catholic circles.)

The Virgin of Guadalupe appeared clothed as a goddess. According to what I learned growing up, she was surrounded with symbols of having conquered the native gods. She was standing on the moon for a throne and the sun shone only at her whim.

And she told her newest follower to convert, and bring others with him.

Mexican Catholicism is unlike ANY branch of Roman Catholicism in the world. Most pick up local traditions, sure, but Thanksgiving sure isn't a holy day, even if Mass is said on it. These guys have holy days I've never heard of, clearly referencing prior religions. Good Friday involves a palm frond being handed out to parishioners, and bored children often make little cross toys during Mass; *every single frond* in the hands of a Mexican ends up a very complex stalk of macrame maize, maize being a symbol of the gods like bread is for Christians. The list is basically like looking at a Wiccan anthropologist's dream of survival.

The Pope called on THAT Mary vision. The one who said 'I can't stop these people, but I can try and bring aid'. The one who had been a Jewish woman in Rome, who had probably stood by the well plotting how to slide Judean law into the Temple taxes of Rome ("no one will notice my 'best' lamb is a bit scrawny this year, right? Such poor rain...").

The refugee and scared mother and the one who looked for ICE in Egypt's garb at her door.

Sometimes Francis has a brain.

[yey56]

HARLEY SAWYER X PSYCHOLOGIST READER Pt4

From:

You eyes opened and before you could even muster a work, the monitor said with the velvet voice you recognised so well.- Welcome back, my germ. I'm so glad you're finally awake. We have matters to discuss- Sawyer finished touching your face with his screen.

Your eyes closed halfway due to the light of the screen. A big eye observed you and a soft voice with a mechanic filter talked to you.

You still hadn't processed all of this information, being just woken up and basically blinded by a bright light was not exactly enlightening.

Harley?- You asked, still waking up- Harley is that you?- You looked confused and shocked. You didn't expect... This.- Is this what Leith did to you?.

Your hands started exploring his robotic body: inspecting the wires, twisting your fingers in them; the metallic articulations, bending the ones in his fingers as testing for movement; and his TV head, taking a closer look to the pixels that conformed it

He looked at you in silence while you analysed his whole self -... Yes. But that's not relevant now. I've been trying to reach you. And you've been squirming by sheer luck from my grip.- He still held you face with his cold metal hands. You found it comforting. A cold, dry feeling. It fitted him well.

So... You know what I did?- You already knew the extent of his control on the factory but you wanted to hear it from him- Yes, I do. I must say, excellent job. Liberating 1006... It was excellent- He laughed quietly.-

His hand on your cheek moved to your collarbone and while you were incorporating he put your arms against the wires that resembled his neck and shoulders in a way that you were now supporting yourself solely on him.

You cannot believe the progress the experiments have made...- He was talking very quietly, almost whispering- They had made hell real.- He seemed somewhat fascinated by his own words and you were listening to him very closely, wanting to know more information of the experiments

Some of them are nothing more than violents and hungry beasts.- The fascination was replaced by contempt- But others, the ones who you concluded that showed intelligence... They are taking control of little areas of the factory..

I've always knew that their resentment would make something great- You said, somewhat glad that some toys were showing dominance over others. You could already image who...- Horrible, but great after all.- The way you were saying it was almost mischievous with a hint of satisfaction.

And what about you?- You asked, your tone becoming softer this time- I've been searching for you. What have you been up to Dr?.

There is not much to do here but establishing our chances of survival and my dominance over this factory- You were confused by his words, tightening your grip on his shoulders-

What do you mean by insuring OUR survival?- The question came of a little bit more aggressively than intented.

The prototype... He was the one commanding the toys to end with anyone in their way. When you opened the cages most of them tried toe scale the factory but he blocked the way. He's searching for that clay doll.- You interrupted- The prototype is searching for Poppy? Why?- He continued- She wants to finish him. To destroy him. She disappeared after the hour of joy. That sneaky liar has managed to hide herself very well...

So... What does that have to do with you? With us?- You asked with precaution-

I've made a deal with the prototype... I will improve the toys we have to go against Poppy. He won't kill me since I'm useful. Whether he likes to admit it or not, he needs me for this. I'm his best shot. I'm not worried about the prototype right now.- Harley seemed confident in his statement, and probably he was right.

You remembered the Prototype... Before Doey, he and mommy long legs were your favourites out of all the experiments. They both showed high levels of intelligence and you often turned you interviews with them into something more like a conversation.

Mommy was always willing to talk. Often with a sweet voice but sometimes a more terrifying one would overcome the conversation trying to intimidate you.

But the Prototype was not always willing to talk. Mostly at the start he just stared at you, twitching his metallic hand.

He was the first successful experiment of the company and though he was far from perfect he was one of the most intelligent living beings you ever had the pleasure to converse with.

He was your first job with a non-human patient, it wasn't something you could forget. His hate for the company was never hidden, he had a deep hunger for violence and as new experiments started to come in he would often encourage them to violent acts, this led to him being isolated.

1006 became more erratic, violent and unwilling to collaborate. Other psychologist started to quit and refusing to work with him because of this same reason. They feigned pity for him, compassion and empathy, they tried to hide the instinctive fear they had for him so the prototype acted in response driving them away.

You on the contrary never gave up on him. You didn't offer kind words or condolences for his situation. You acknowledged him as the challenge he was for the stability for the company and talked to him out of pure interest. You own curiosity hungry for understanding what was going inside his mind. He was unique.

It was like the first toy you ever give to a kid. You can break it, hide it or give mor etoys to the child but the first one will always remain in their minds.

With time, the prototype started adopting some of your behaviours. He started imitating you tone of voice when asking, trying to seem more familiar to you by coping your corporal expression .

You knew what he was doing, you did something similar in your first years of career and even used that method with some people.

So tell me, Prototype- You adjusted the comments of the experiment in the table nearby- why did you intimidate the last professional- and please do not insult my intelligence by trying to lie to me- You sigh sounded more like a laugh- either tell me the truth or don't talk, let's not lose time.

What time- Do I HaVe To- LOSE??..- His voice changed from yours to a distorted one and then to mommy's.- YoUr FRIEND the D0c-t0r does Not- L3t M3 leave.

You know full well by, you are hyper aware of everything around you so don't feign innocence on why you are here- You knew Harley was watching through the one way glass on the wall and you knew the prototype knew as well.

Once you and Harley started becoming closer he started insisting on supervising you whenever you had interviews with the most dangerous experiments.

He understood you fascination with them. Their broken minds and the challenge they supposed were a fitting challenge for you, he felt the same with the experiments the company made him run.

Though he has never managed to comprehend your need to maintain direct contact with them. He always insisted on you staying on the observation room and talking with them through it but you always denied it, claiming it killed the fun.

Harley always saw them as nothing more than beasts, he didn't want to see you teared apart by them but he couldn't do anything to stop you.

You lived for the risk and for reconstructing the puzzle that composed the minds of the Playtime experiments.

Even though you were fascinated by the experiments you couldn't help but enjoying your superior positions in comparison to them.

You couldn't see yourself subjecting to your own protects, as selfish as that may sound.

Y/N?- Sawyer's metallic voice woke you up from your memories- Your heart rate has decrease, you have spaced out.

So basically, 1006 is the one in control here- You mumbled, still looking directly to only one place.

Harley, I'm not willing to subject myself to one of our projects.- Your tone was dead serious- I understand that the factory right now is the closest thing on earth to hell but I'm not willing to play apart on my projects game

No.- Voice dry, he responded- You don't seem to grasp what the factory is now.- He looked at you.

You weren't there to see it like he did. What the prototype did on the hour of joy, how he seemed to have it already planed. The speed he had to take control of everything

Again, he wasn't scared of his own survival and control within the factory. He was the only thing 1006 had, therefore, he wouldn't be discarded and if you could just listen to him, you wouldn't either.

The prototype is searching for Poppy. Right now I don't know why, not yet.- He said with that calculated tone of voice he always carried- I cannot get to wherever she is, wherever Ludwig hide her, he make sure to make her unfindable.

But you can- Both of his hands on your shoulders now.- Understand your position in this factory, you are the only human here, pure flesh and bones. You are vulnerable. Don't be prideful, it will get you killed.- He said severely and with harshness in his voice.

You took his hands away from you and started to stand up- No Harley, I have no interest in finding Poppy and neither in letting the Prototype dictate if I die or not. -You quickly changed topic trying to avoid talking about 1006-You have control over the systems of the factory don't you, maybe you might be able to get me high enough to search for a wrap pack... And you have an Omni hand as far as I'm aware. You should have executive privileges- You started standing up, with Harley making some resistance.

You started walking as if you were in your house and went to the room with all of the monitors, Harley closely following you.

You started touching some buttons and all of the factory became on sight for you through the cameras. You stayed observant of everything. Analysing every room, watching the changes made by the months of chaos.

At some point, Harley restricted you with another one of his bodies while the main one looked at you.

-You've always been stubborn but the circumstances are not on your favour and since you refuse to listen then I cannot let you go.- His metallic hand grabbing your chin so you would look at him.- Don't fight it. It will make it worse.

Harley knew that, when very deep in though, you would just not listen or not pay attention to your surroundings, so he made sure your attention was on him.

Harley, what are you doing?- Your voice was steady and neutral- I sense anger in your voice. Believe me, this was my last resort.- His hand left your face, he though he heard something from you but the moment he gave his back to you, he heard the sound of metal hitting the floor.

One of The Doctors robotic bodies, the one holding you to be precise, had dropped to the floor after you unplugged a certain wire that connected to his body. You supposed that was the one that permitted the hive mind effect.

He quickly looked at you again. You were running toward the exit door. He could easily outrun you, but now you knew how to unplug him from his body.

However he ignored that fact and went for you either way. His screen glitching and all of the nearby monitors turning on while you were passing running against them.

Now he could understood what you were whispering a few seconds ago "Mine as well". The same way his first option wasn't to restrict you; your first option wasn't to escape.

You knew you were in a huge disadvantage but just thinking about living with the constant paranoia of your live depending on the Prototype made you feel nauseous.

You knew his potential, that's what a very deep part of you feared him just as much as admired him. But after all, you should look out for yourself even if that means going against Harley.

You still don't know how you managed to get out of the land of none and get back to the main corridors that led to the construction area.

That was a safe place, at least save from Sawyer.

Your first option was not available but your second best was still there. The safe haven seemed like a resemblance of normalcy in this hellhole.

Doey looked relieved upon your return, and he locked even more glad when you said you where staying. You didn't specify the reasons why but at leat you had a generator completely independent from the main system and therefore, from Harley.

You were... a little hurt from your re-encounter with Harley... Just a little...

You didn't expected him to give control so easily, again, he could still have way more control than others could but being at mercy of others wasn't really your style and you weren't willing to go through that.

You spent so much time searching for him. And for what? For a half ass conversation without any closure. You didn't need any feelings that could make you dependent on Harley. You shouldn't let yourself get carried away only because you have feelings for someone...

Therefore, you just toned it down. You will do as you always do with every feeling that gets more complicated than curiosity, you will ignore it and then bury it.

You were able to ignore your fascination for the prototype because, rationally ,he was dangerous; you could ignore your affection for Doey or mommy because you still were curious to see where the limits where. So you should be able to bury your feelings for Harley because it puts in danger your life and your autonomy.

Harley was not much happy either. He wanted you back, he just needed you to see reason. Eventually you will encounter a big danger such as Catnap or someone big and you will understand that you can't do this alone.

You will realise sooner or later, but in the meantime he would keep a close eye on you and, if the opportunity ever arises, he will just accelerate the process and take you himself to his area.

He could still feel your touch on his wires. His body long gone was substituted by this machine. Though he couldn't eat, he could feel. A very weak stimulation but it was the nearest thing he had that resembled the reaction to touch.

It was a matter of time, its not like you will last long. No wrap pack, no weapons thousands of resentful creatures inpatient to eat you...

You will come back. You must.

When the prototype asked him where you were, he answered that there has been a problem but this they only needed time.

1006 was not happy. Even thought there was an argument Harley, always the calm doctor knew his experiments so he was able to deal with the prototype effortlessly.

His germ could not hide forever, it was not in your nature. Germs evolve, the expand and sooner or later, a doctor finds it and neutralises it.

He just needs to wait until you expand to catch you. You wont be still for long. You never are.

The doctor can only hope that you won't be late to your appointment

-unedited fic-

[laz-kay]

Having analysed both Brad Bakshi and David Brittlesbee's characters so heavily over the course of the last few years, I can safely say that my theory of them being endgame has solidified.

Now, "endgame" doesn't necessarily mean they need to become romantically involved. I'm saying this as a diehard BradDavid shipper (maybe the BradDavid shipper), but there's a strong probability we have - in fact - been queerbaited with these two mfs. Shocking, I know.

We know there's a female character making an appearance in a later episode, and she's - supposedly - an ex lover of Brad's. I, for one, am thrilled we're getting an insight into Brad's personal life, and I think people are losing sight of that. There is every possibility Brad and David are two straight guys, and I still believe - with this theory - they belong together somehow.

There have been far too many circumstances where David and Brad have found comfort in each other, have shown vulnerability with each other, and have shared interests. The parallels between their characters - despite them being completely juxtaposed versions of the other - are stifling.

Being together doesn't automatically constitute a romantic relationship. Maybe these two trauma-filled individuals deserve to have someone who listens to them, who helps them become a better version of themself, and makes their life that little bit easier.

Brad and David are opposite ends of the same spectrum. The spectrum here being "fear of rejection and getting hurt". They go about hiding this phobia is completely different ways. David - being the open book he is - forces us to think nothing else is going on underneath his surface. He lays it out for all of us to see so we needn't ask about his mental health or his greatest fears, because we believe we already know everything there is to know.

Brad, on the other hand, is ambiguous as fuck. He's an aloof guy who's masquerading as a sociopathic capitalist in order to keep people distant. Keeping people distant - and somewhat frightened of you - means there'll be no questions. No questions means no opportunity for vulnerability, hence no reason to get hurt by any of his colleagues.

Analysing from the first season, it's apparent how much the two have changed; how much they're moving along the spectrum towards each other. Evolving, if you will. David has become more closed off, and Brad - miraculously - has opened himself up to helping people without any ulterior motive/self-gain.

It’s almost as if their job roles have shifted too. David becoming more corporate based and Brad leaning towards creative because of Dana. All David seems to talk about right now is monetary value and how COVID was great because it gave the video game franchise so much revenue. And Brad, despite having money at the back of his mind at all times, does have the creative team at heart. Every financial decision Brad has forced down the team’s throats has somehow benefitted creative more than corporate. Battle Royale? The Casino? Playpennies?

It's as if they're closing in on each other somehow; becoming more like the other because it makes them a better person? Their initial plans of hiding their fears haven't worked, so why not try the mirrored response?

Look, they both come from abusive households, have a crippling fear of losing people close to them, and hate showing vulnerability. There's a lot that is different too, but it's become increasingly obvious that these two dorks need each other in their lives. As friends and companions.

When David asked Brad to help him move, I'm convinced he thought he and Brad were already best friends. Hell, they'd worked together for the better part of a decade, still shared an office at that time, consistently called each other during lockdown to play a dumb video game for a bet, and Brad even helped David find a girlfriend. I'd believe we were buddies if I were David.

Brad is never seen without a long sweater/shirt on. During "Quarantine" when he's on a solo call with David, we see him for the first time in a short sleeved shirt exposing his arms. Almost like a subliminal way of letting Brad express vulnerability without meaning to. He's very slowly becoming softer and more "David-ish", and that's probably a good thing.

Idk, man. I just think these nerds need to get a shift on and move in together or something. Sit and have wine nights and talk about their shared trauma because societal norms suck and men should talk more and have more friends. They need to look after each other, because it's quite clear no one else is/will for a while.

[sysig]

I can’t see a damn thing

[doggytail-duck]

I'm at the point where it's increasingly hard to function again, I can't even do fun stuff let alone things I need to get done

[eggmeralda]

I may have lost all hope

[goldentigerfestival]

i will never not find it hilarious that they completely forgot to animate patty at the very end of the final cutscene in the last three frames of the whole group

and the dub didn't even give her voiced lines when everyone was shouting they so the localization forgot about her too

[anistarrose]

Please don't tune out when you get to the non-partisan section of your ballot this November. First off, where state Supreme Court justices are elected, Republicans are trying their darndest to elect candidates who will destroy reproductive freedom, gut voting rights, and do everything in their power to give "contested" elections to Republicans. Contrast Wisconsin electing a justice in 2023 who helped rule two partisan gerrymanders unconstitutional, versus North Carolina electing a conservative majority in 2022, who upheld a racist voter ID law and a partisan gerrymander that liberal justices had previously struck down both of.

Second, local judicial offices will make infinitely more of an impact on your community than a divided state or federal legislature will. District and circuit courts, especially, are where criminalization of homelessness and poverty play out, and where electing a progressive judge with a commitment to criminal justice reform can make an immediate difference in people's lives.

It's a premier example of buying people time, and doing profound-short-term good, while we work to eventually change the system. You might not think there will be any such progressive justices running in your district, but you won't know unless you do your research. (More on "research" in a moment.)

The candidates you elect to your non-partisan city council will determine whether those laws criminalizing homelessness get passed, how many blank checks the police get to surveil and oppress, and whether lifesaving harm reduction programs, like needle exchanges and even fentanyl test strips, are legal in your municipality. Your non-partisan school board might need your vote to fend off Moms for Liberty candidates and their ilk, who want to ban every book with a queer person or acknowledgement of racism in it.

Of course, this begs the question — if these candidates are non-partisan, and often hyper-local, then how do I research them? There's so much less information and press about them, so how do I make an informed decision?

I'm not an expert, myself. But I do think/hope I have enough tips to consist of a useful conclusion to this post:

Plan ahead. If you vote in person, figure out what's on your ballot before you show up and get jumpscared by names you don't know. Find out what's on your ballot beforehand, and bring notes with you when you vote. Your city website should have a sample ballot, and if they drop the ball, go to Ballotpedia.

Ballotpedia in general, speaking of which. Candidates often answer Ballotpedia's interviews, and if you're lucky, you'll also get all the dirt on who's donating to their campaign.

Check endorsements. Usually candidates are very vocal about these on their websites. If local/state progressive leaders and a couple unions (not counting police unions lol) are endorsing a candidate, then that's not the end of my personal research process per se, but it usually speeds things up.

Check the back of the ballot. That's where non-partisan races usually bleed over to. This is the other reason why notes are helpful, because they can confirm you're not missing anything.

I've seen some misconceptions in the reblogs, so an addendum to my point about bringing notes on the candidates: I strongly suggest making those notes a physical list that you bring polling place with you. Many states do allow phones at the polling place, but several states explicitly don't — Nevada, Maryland, and Texas all ban phones, and that may not be an exhaustive list. There may also be states that allow individual city clerks to set policies.

You should also pause and think before you take a photo of your ballot, because even some states that don't ban phones still ban ballot photographs. But whether it's a photo, or just having your phone in general — in an environment as high-risk for voter suppression as the current one, you don't want even a little bit of ambiguity about your conduct. Physical notes are your friends.

[xrayspec]

this morning my housemate told me she was cold bc she left her bedroom window open all night and she has now opened the downstairs windows while she's working in her room

[astralis-ortus]

guess i missed you too much

✱ boyfriend!bc x fem!reader

— that's what being in love does to you.

w.count → 1.2k genre → fluff warning → reader referred to as baby and my love, 2 (two) chatroom screenshots a.n → based on this request! ngl i was like '!!!' as soon as i read the request bc i can just imagine how it would go i'm—ㅠㅠㅠ also, i have an announcement here about requests, commissions, and fanart shop—i would really appreciate it if you'd check it and help a girl out♡ ⋆ if you're enjoying my stories, do send me a ko-fi ⋆ see masterlist

to put it simply, chan is dumbfounded.

he's pretty sure he had mentioned to both han and changbin that you're coming here, to seoul, in a exactly week and chan needs to have all the urgent project revisions to be done prior to your arrival. he's absolutely sure the two promised they will only be gone for a little while to get some coffee to wake them up, and chan is now certain that the two are definitely not only heading out to grab those goddamn coffee.

"if you two aren't back here in 5, just know this is your one and only warning," chan muttered through gritted teeth, trying his best not to sound too pissed before sending the voicenote in their '3racha only' groupchat.

it's not that chan didn't understand—he knows he's been pushing both changbin and han more than he usually does, and chan is very much aware that the duo are bound to be a bit more rebellious than usual once they reach their point of exhaustion, but he really is looking forward to the time he's about to spend with you, and he's not about to let anything come and ruin that.

it's been a while since you've last spent a considerable amount of time together with chan. sure, there are stolen dates here and there whenever a holiday would match up and you could take some time off to visit chan's version of paradise (which is unironically everywhere within the bounds of japan) together, but those visits always ends as quickly as it starts and left the two of you with a longer list of regrets by the time you had to let your hands slip away from chan' warmth.

so this time, when you finally were able put your responsibilities on rest for two whole weeks, it didn't take much of a convincing for either you or chan to finalize the dates when you would finally be able to be within each other's reach. chan even went the extra mile to immediately book your flight coming in, though you had to basically threaten him with no video calls for a week if he went through with his other plans to spoil you rotten.

well, you could only hope that chan won't pull any uno reverse card on you once this plan came to an end.

a bell sound from his phone quickly distracts chan from the lines of lyrics he's trying to edit—an action he came to regret when the notification in view were merely a singular line of emojis sent by changbin, consisting of the same teasing faces and a pink ribbon both changbin and han been sending chan for days now on end.

"oh, he's done," chan groaned, head tilted back in annoyance as he threw his poor beanie back at the sofa where changbin was supposed to be seated right now. to be frank, chan didn't understand what changbin has been implying with the string of emojis at all. presumably changbin and han had seen the way chan saved your kakao talk profile—hence the pink ribbon, but why now? exactly when chan's the most sensitive of the topic? the fact that chan couldn't contact you drives him even crazier—you had told him you haven't been feeling well and you'd text him again once you feel better, but that was like, what, an eternity ago? chan didn't want the risk of waking you up either especially with your trip coming up, so…

he's basically helpless.

another set of annoyed groan became chan's initial response when his phone came alive with a new notification. reluctantly grabbing the device, chan was mentally prepared for a text bubble sent by the youngest of the three, containing of the same string of emojis changbin had just sent—only for his heart to jump out of his chest when he saw the pink ribbon next to your name.

before chan could type another reply, his attention were robbed by the knocks on his studio door—which is a little weird considering neither han or changbin would bother, and the fact that it's nearly midnight meant that almost no one that chan knows of should be looking for him around this time of night.

"manager hyung?" chan cautiously called out, instinctively grabbing his discarded beanie before he went to reach for the door. "did you leave something? or are you—"

the words on chan's tongue dissipates soon after the door swung open—but even with the way his eyes just doubled in size, chan still couldn't believe what he's currently seeing right in front of him now.

"hi, my channie," you finally spoke, a wide grin decorating your lightly flushed face from all the adrenaline you've been feeling; and only then, chan seems to wake up from his trance.

"wha—baby?" chan could hear how voice had skipped an octave higher, but he couldn't care less—did he fell asleep? is this a dream? chan had to pinch himself before he even pulled you in his arms, tightly wrapping the giggling mess that you are in his warmth. "you're actually here? wasn't your flight next week? did i got the dates wrong? how—"

"whoa whoa, calm down there, racer," you quickly stopped your boyfriend's wild train of questions, still with your smile plastered across the span of your face—your plan is a massive success.

"it was supposed to be next week," you confirmed, eyes still taking in chan's perplexed face while your brain etched the memory in its hall of fame, "but i miss my boyfriend too much to wait another week, so… i asked for bin and jisung's help to change my plane ticket!"

suddenly, everything that's been happening to chan in the past week just clicked—the time he caught changbin and han meddling with his laptop, the nervous chuckles, the way they become way to secretive with their phones, the phone calls, and those lines of goddamn emojis. it all finally makes sense.

"is that so?" chan shook his head despite the clear view of his dimpled smile, arms tightening around your waist, "so you three little naughty being has been cooking up plans behind my back, that's what you're saying?"

the sound of your sweet laugh fills chan with an overwhelming sense of warmth— you might spend the majority of your year apart from each other, but for chan, it's moment like this that makes all the dark nights of longing seem worth to be worth his patience.

after all, you're everthing chan ever wanted in his life.

"my my," clicking his tongue in faux disappointment, chan gently fixed the strands of hair falling over your eyes—ones ever so tender whenever you fixed your gaze on him, "what am i gonna do with you, hm? you naughty little baby?"

"not sure," you cheekily replied, lightly scrunching your nose the way chan usually does. you're just happy that you're finally in chan's arms again, to hell with any of the 'repercussions' chan might be building in his head for your little misdemeanor.

"but can you kiss me first?" you continued, trying your best to stay nonchalant despite the sudden spike of your heartbeat due to your own silly attempt at being witty and chan's surprised laugh, "i think i need my boyfriend's kiss so i could face my punishments later."

frankly, chan's head is still plagued with tons after tons of questions of your little successful stunt—he can't help it, you're someone he love and cares about after all,

but who is he to deny your sweet little plea?

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[seat-safety-switch]

Have you ever gone that extra little bit on a project, only to completely ruin it? We all have. Being human is about trying harder and then immediately regretting any additional effort we spent on it. Whether it be running your sleeve through some fresh paint, trying to adjust some setting glue, or even going back for that last little polish only to fuck the whole thing up forever, never doubt your ability to snatch failure from success.

True experts know the secret to delivering consistent results every time: slack off at the end. Just resist that urge to go the extra mile, and be happy with the miles you already accomplished. Learn to use the magic phrases "good enough" and "I'm happy with it." In this way, you will avoid disaster. Hell, the bible says they took the seventh day off after creating all of existence, and things turned out kind of sort of okay even after coasting to the finish on that one.

There is, however, a hidden risk. Bear with me now. If you are constantly half-assing to the certain amount, eventually you will get a lot faster with practice. Soon, you'll be able to get done in a half-ass what you once needed three quarters of an ass to complete. It is in this extra quarter-ass that danger lurks, for this is the new place where you will be tempted to go above and beyond. Oh, things finished up so much faster than before, I still have time to– No. Stop it. Now you have more time to post about how great this one went on the internet, and then start a new project!

I hope that this is helpful and instructional for all of you. I'd write something more after this sentence, but I think things are going pretty well already, and I'd be afraid to fuck it up with some incomprehensible analogy to giraffes that would get etched on my tombstone. See? I went too far as it is, now it's all weird.

[strawberrymochin]

The Moan Analysis✎

A slight analysis on how jjk boys would moan | Gojo satoru; Geto suguru; Nanami kento; Ryomen sukuna; Toji fushiguro | got a little carried away while writing nanami and toji

Gojo satoru

✎ starting off with the vocal king of sorcerers, gojo's moans would be vocal 'vocal'. Normally gojo has a playful smooth voice that does charms to human ears, however it changes completely in bed. His voice would go two or three octaves lower as he pants and groans as he thrusts in you. He's a kinda guy who would whispers slutty compliments while fucking you in the middle of the night, depriving you of your beauty sleep. If you're the one who's riding him, he would be squirming as whimpers would follow his delicate trembling lips, especially if you clench too hard around him. He has no shame voicing his pleasures and thus innocently ruins neighbour's peace.

Geto suguru

✎ Suguru's a guy, who lies mostly within rough grunts to panting breaths. He won't be the one to be much vocal while doing the thing. The vocal one in the relationship would be you, since you can't keep your mouth shut when he takes you (c'mon I mean nobody can keep it shut if it's geto suguru). He loves hearing your moans instead. And boy, he hasn't voiced out his thoughts yet, as its kinda embarrassing to him but if you would agree to it, he would record your moans into a playlist. I'm not even kidding, there would be a sorted out one containing your moans from finger fucking, eating you out, fucking you etc. (not to mention he would jerk off to those playlists when you're away from him)

Nanami kento

✎ ASMR. I repeat ASMR. The moans of nanami kento would be literal asmr to your ears. As a former salary man and now again a sorcerer, nanami gets real tired and has trouble sleeping. You were thinking of suggesting him asmr to relieve stress however you realised maybe he would want something more better. And this is how you would find yourself facing the mattress as your back is firmly pressed on namami's toned chest as he thrusts in and out, while snaking an arm around your curves finding his way to your neck slightly choking you, making you drool. His moans would be breathy and slight croaky. He won't waste his stamina trying to talk rather than keep his mind focused on the sensation on the pleasure where you suck him in so good. The only time he would be any vocal would be when he reaches his climax as he cums inside you with a series of low groans.

Ryomen sukuna

✎ Kk, forget about his moaning, this merciless guy would fuck you so hard that you would barely hear any sound other than you whining and moaning under him. The only time you could hear him moan, would be when you give him a blowjob or a titjob whatever he wants. His moans would consist of breathy groans to slight pants while he degrades you. You would know you're doing a great job if his voice cracks while passing you a snarky comment or if his breath hitched while you draw your tongue over his tip licking it clean as it twitches in your mouth. Though every single thing you do would make him experience heaven (which he would never go, nor you guys....lol) he would never accept that you have a slight dominance when sucking him or riding him as it would affect his ego.

Toji fushiguro

✎ Forget about his moans, his existence itself is the sluttiest to ever happen. Also he's such a softie in love babe I swear. He won't be much vocal again except the time he reaches his climax. He would cum as he whispers delicate words of you being such a good girl taking him in as he pants and groans. His words might mess up a little bit, as he cums, might end up blabbering nonsense incoherent words as he rides his high. He makes sure to say one thing everytime you guys have sex, is that he's grateful for you to exist in his world and would beg you a million times to never disappear. To never leave him. That's the only time he shows his true self to you, which you embrace in your arms, cupping his cheeks to gently kiss him to sleep. Even though he seems tough outside, I feel he might be the most insecure person due to his childhood experiences and might hesitate to open up to you. But there's no doubt he would be on his knees for you.

Other parts of the series- The cum analysis | The dick analysis

© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated |

[hoshifighting]

Workaholic!Joshua

— Synopsis: Joshua consistently skips happy hours or works overtime. You've tried to warn your friend countless times, but he didn't listen to you. As a result, it's no surprise that Joshua experienced a burnout on the office floor. — WC: 5.3k — WARNINGS: Smut, fluff, angst, office setting, fingering (f. receiving), clit stimulation, handjob, penetrative sex, a little bit of car sex, protected sex, dirty talk, flirty Joshua.

[Please be aware that the following text includes mentions of burn-out, collapse, fainting out, which may be a sensitive topic for some]

[Issue Club Serie]

You remember when you heard your manager talking about a job vacancy in the recruitment and selection sector. The name immediately stood out to you—Joshua. You studied with him in college, and you knew he would be perfect for the role.

The manager loved him. Joshua was charismatic, empathetic, and dedicated—everything the recruitment team needed. Every morning, he would thank you profusely, and at least twice a week, he would insist on buying you an overpriced coffee. It took some time for you to convince him that he didn't need to do this.

But there was something else you couldn't help but notice. The sheer number of job interviews Joshua had to lead, the late nights you'd see him at his desk with tired eyes, and how he always seemed a little lonely, even though the team welcomed him with open arms.

Joshua would rarely show up to the department's happy hours on Fridays or the company parties, and even then, he would only talk about work. There was no relief, no relaxation. You found yourself listening to him until the end of the night, as the rest of the team started to ask if he would even bother coming anymore, knowing he probably wouldn't.

You couldn't help but feel for Joshua. He was clearly passionate about his work, but at what cost? You watched as he isolated himself, unable to find that work-life balance that so many of us strive for. It made you wonder, what was driving him to push himself so hard, and at what point would the stress and loneliness become too much to bear?

As his friend, you couldn't help but worry about his well-being. You'd seen him cancel plans, skip social events, and even miss out on family gatherings, all in the name of his career. It was admirable, sure, but also concerning. 

You could consider reaching out, inviting him for a coffee or a quick chat. Maybe he just needed someone to listen and remind him that there was more to life than just work. 

But then again, who were you to judge? 

Everyone has their own path, their own motivations. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that Joshua was heading for a burnout. You wondered if there was a way to help him find a better balance without undermining his ambitions. It was a tricky situation, and you weren't sure how to approach it.

As you glance at the clock, the hands indicate it's already 3:35 pm. Your stomach growls, reminding you that you've been so absorbed in your work that you've skipped lunch. Deciding it's time for a much-needed break, you gather your phone and wallet, heading towards the exit of the department.

But just as you're about to leave, you spot Joshua, his fingers dancing across the keyboard in a blur of movement. You can't help but let out a small sigh, knowing he's likely putting in extra hours again. Turning around, you make your way over to his desk, standing beside him.

"Joshua, it's past 3:30. Don't you think it's time for a break?" you say, your voice laced with concern.

Joshua looks up, blinking a few times as he registers your presence. "Oh, hey Y/N. I'm just trying to get this report finished before the end of the day," he explains, his brow furrowed in concentration.

You can't help but smile at his dedication. "Come on, you've been working non-stop. Let's go grab a bite to eat across the street. My treat," you offer, hoping to coax him away from his desk.

Joshua hesitates for a moment, glancing back at his computer screen. "I don't know, Y/N. I really need to get this done..."

"It can wait, Joshua. You need to take a break and recharge," you insist, your tone gentle but firm.

With a sigh, Joshua nods and starts to gather his things. "Alright, you win. Let's go," he says, shrugging on his blazer.

You can't help but feel a sense of triumph as the two of you head towards the elevator. "So, how are the apprentice interviews going?" you ask. "They're going well, actually. The candidates are all so eager and eager to learn," Joshua replies, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You chuckle, nodding in understanding. "That's the best phase, but I hope they don't overwork themselves in the future, right Josh?" you say, casting him a knowing glance.

Joshua ducks his head, chuckling quietly. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you," he says, the hint of a smile still playing on his face.

As you step out into the bustling street, you feel the sun's warmth on your face, a pleasant contrast to the cold, sterile office. You turn to Joshua, a playful grin spreading across your face.

"Alright, Josh, here's the deal. If you talk about work during this break, you'll owe me an ice cream," you declare, wagging a finger at him.

Joshua laughs, a genuine sound that lightens the mood. "Deal. Though, to be honest, I'd buy you an ice cream anyway," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Don't you forget it. And remember, I'm serious," you say, trying to keep a straight face as you give him a mock-stern look.

Joshua raises his hands in surrender, still chuckling. "Alright, alright, I heard you loud and clear."

As you both find a cozy little café, the smell of freshly baked bread and brewed coffee envelops you. You choose a table by the window, and as you settle in with your meals, the casual chatter of other patrons creates a comforting background hum.

"Did you hear about the latest drama?" you begin, leaning in conspiratorially. "The director's wife found out he was cheating on her because her strawberry jam kept disappearing from the fridge—and the director doesn't even like strawberry jam!"

Joshua's mouth drops open, his eyes wide in disbelief. "No way. Seriously?" he exclaims, staring at you.

You nod, your face a picture of exaggerated exasperation. "Yup. She noticed it was going down way too fast and started putting two and two together."

Joshua shakes his head, still processing the story. "That's wild. You know, during the last interview I led, they actually put some strawberry jam on the table so the candidates would—" He stops abruptly as your glare pierces him. He laughs, holding up his hands again. "Sorry, sorry! No work talk, I remember."

You can't help but smile at his sheepish expression. "Thank you. So, back to the story. After she figured it out, she didn’t just confront him. Oh no, she went all out. She invited him to a romantic dinner, complete with candles and, of course, strawberry jam."

Joshua raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "And then what happened?"

You lean in closer, lowering your voice. "She waited until he took a bite of the dessert she made—some fancy strawberry tart. And then she calmly asked him if he enjoyed it as much as his 'office snacks.'"

Joshua bursts out laughing, nearly choking on his food. "No way! That’s brilliant. What did he do?"

You grin, enjoying his reaction. "He turned beet red and started stammering. She didn’t even wait for an explanation. She just got up, left the table, and moved out the next day. Took the jam with her too, just for good measure."

Joshua laughs so hard tears form in his eyes. "I can't believe it. That's some next-level pettiness. Good for her."

You noticed Joshua seemed more relaxed after your lunch together. He even managed a smile when you passed by his desk later that day. However, during the week, your attempts to repeat the lunch outing were met with resistance. Each time you invited him, he had a different excuse.

"Hey, Josh, want to grab some lunch today?" you asked on Tuesday, hoping to replicate the success of your last outing.

"Sorry, Y/N. I need to lead the apprentice interview," he replied, not looking up from his computer.

On Wednesday, you tried again. "How about lunch today? There is a pasta sale going on at the mall."

Joshua sighed, shaking his head. "I wish I could, but I need to filter the job applications. We're getting so many, and I need to find the best ones."

By Thursday, your frustration was evident, but you kept it in check. "Lunch today, Josh? You deserve a break."

"I'd love to, but I need to solve the issue with the employees' late salaries," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "It's causing a lot of stress for everyone."

Joshua was developing into someone who rarely took a break from his work. Today was Friday, and as you were leaving with your coworkers, all you wanted was to taste a cold beer and find some refuge from the rough week. The whole department was eager to hang out together, and the air was filled with energy.

You were refreshing your makeup at your desk as your coworkers trickled out, laughing and chatting. Glancing over, you saw Joshua standing by the printer, watching the curriculums pile up.

"Josh, you coming out with us tonight?" you called over, hoping to finally get him to relax.

He looked up, "I don't know, Y/N. I have these curriculums to go through, and then there's the report I need to finish."

Tired of trying, you sigh in defeat, the weight of your concern for Joshua pressing heavily on your shoulders. He notices, his eyes meeting yours briefly, but you turn away and walk out. You knew you didn't have the responsibility of checking on him every single time—it was his choice to work himself into exhaustion. But how could you not worry? He was a great friend, and the thought of him breaking down alone between the dividers of his desk was unbearable.

As you sip your beer, trying to enjoy the happy hour, the image of Joshua's lost eyes lingers in your mind. The laughter and chatter around you fade into the background as your thoughts drift back to him. After a few hours, the night winds down, and you remember you forgot your keys at the office. Debora, your coworker, offers you a ride back so you can retrieve them before heading home.

The office is dark and silent as you and Debora step inside, your footsteps echoing softly on the tiled floor. Only one light is turned on, casting a dim glow over a single desk. You immediately recognize it—Joshua's desk. But he isn't sitting there.

A sense of dread fills you as you approach, the cubicle dividers blocking your view. As you round the corner, you see him—Joshua, sprawled on the floor.

You gasp, rushing to his side. "Joshua!" you scream out, your voice trembling with panic. You carefully lift his head and place it on your lap, your hands shaking as you check for signs of consciousness. He's unresponsive, his face pale and drawn.

"Debora, call an ambulance!" you shout, your voice tight.

Debora fumbles with her phone, her fingers trembling as she dials. She quickly explains the situation to the operator and then rushes to find building security for additional help.

You gently shake Joshua, trying to rouse him. "Come on, Josh, wake up," you whisper urgently, but he remains still, his breathing shallow.

Minutes later, which feel like an eternity, the sound of sirens pierces the silence. The paramedics arrive, and you reluctantly let go of Joshua as they take over, assessing his condition and preparing to move him. You insist on riding with him to the hospital, unable to leave his side.

As the ambulance speeds through the city streets, you hold Joshua's hand, your heart pounding with worry. Outside the building, a few employees gather, watching the scene unfold with concern. You barely notice them, your focus entirely on Joshua, praying silently that he'll be okay.

You don't know exactly how many hours you've been by Joshua's side as he lies in the hospital bed. You watched the morning light grow brighter through the window, dozed off, woke up to find him still sleeping, went to the bathroom, and grabbed something from the cafeteria. When you return to his room, you see Joshua awake, a nurse measuring his blood pressure. An uncomfortable silence settles in as the nurse finishes up and leaves.

You sigh, walking next to him and turning your back to him.

"Are you mad at me?" Joshua asks, his voice still weak.

You shake your head, the words snapping out before you can stop them. "No, I'm letting you rest, since you don't do it yourself."

He sighs deeply, and you close your eyes, immediately regretting your harsh tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you this much trouble," he says softly.

You shake your head negatively, looking down. "I found you on the floor, Josh. The only reason I was there was because I forgot my keys. What if I hadn't come back?"

Joshua struggles, but he manages to reach out and catch your hand that is hanging by the bedside. His cold touch makes you glance at him. His eyes are full of exhaustion.

"Please, don't make me this worried again,"

Joshua squeezes your hand weakly. "I'll try, Y/N. I really will. I'm sorry for pushing myself so hard and for pushing you away. I didn't realize how bad it had gotten."

You nod "You don't have to do everything alone, you know. We're all here for you. I'm here for you."

He nods, his eyes glistening. "I know. And I appreciate it more than you know. I just... I need to find a better balance."

"Promise me you'll take it seriously this time," you say.

"I promise," he whispers, his grip on your hand tightening just a bit, weakly. "I'll take better care of myself."

You sit down next to him, your hand still in his. "Good. Because you can't go through that again."

You didn't like the rumors circulating around the office about Joshua while he was away. It bothered you to hear whispers about his collapse, especially since everyone in his department knew how hard he worked and yet pretended everything was fine. 

As the days passed, Joshua's desk slowly filled with Post-it notes and snacks, contributions from you and other departments. Joshua's sudden health scare was a wake-up call, touching more hearts than just yours.

When Joshua returned today, Friday, you watched from your desk as he walked in, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his desk. Messages of encouragement and little treats were piled high. 

His face goes red as he glances around, catching the subtle glances of his coworkers. They quickly return to their tasks, but you see the corners of their mouths twitching with barely concealed smiles.

He worked at his desk, and his department members spared him from taking on too much. As the windows started to show the darkening sky, some people had already left to go home. Unlike regular Fridays, there was no happy hour planned for tonight.

Seungkwan approached Joshua's desk, a concerned look on his face. "Hey, Josh, you should really think about not doing extra hours today."

Joshua shook his head, "I'm going to take it easy for now…" a small smile formed as he looked at you. "Also, I have a happy hour for two tonight, so no extra hours."

As his friends gave you sly glances and teased you with their smiles, you felt your cheeks blush.

"Looks like someone's got a date," Seungkwan said, grinning.

How did you two end up on a date? It started in the hospital. Joshua was still recovering, lying in bed, holding your hand. The room was quiet, the noise from machines was the only sound.

"How can you forgive me?" he asked, his voice soft.

You shook your head, a gentle smile on your face. "I'm not mad at you, Josh. But it would be cool if you took a break every now and then. Maybe we could go to a happy hour someday."

Joshua licked his lips, still holding your hand and giving it a weak squeeze. He looked up at you, all flirty. "Would you be open to having a happy hour with just you and me?"

You blinked, shocked. "What?"

He blushed, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "Come on, it's so difficult for me to take a break. I'd love to have you as the motive for my breaks."

You scoffed, attempting to conceal the warmth that spread throughout your chest. "You should take breaks for your health and my sanity."

Joshua brushed his thumb against your hand, a playful grin grabbing at his lips. "Don't scold me, Y/N-nie, I'm sick," he teased.

You stared at him, a shocked smirk on your face. "You're taking advantage of me."

"Yes," he said, his smile growing. "Using the advantage, so you accept having an encounter with me."

The memory of that conversation makes you smile as you walk out of the office together, the evening air cool and refreshing. 

"So, where are we going for this happy hour?" you ask, trying to lighten the mood.

Joshua chuckles, his eyes bright with excitement. "I thought we could try that new restaurant around the corner. I've heard good things."

You nod, feeling the tension of the week melt away. "Sounds perfect."

As you both enter the bar, the atmosphere is lively but not unpleasant. You find a cozy corner table and settle in, the soft murmur of conversation and clinking glasses creating a comfortable backdrop.

Joshua looks at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and something else that makes your heart skip a beat. "Thanks for convincing me to take a break."

You smile, raising your glass. "To more breaks and less stress."

He clinks his glass against yours, a genuine smile on his face. "To more happy hours with you."

After dinner, you find yourself sitting in the passenger seat of Joshua's car. The air is filled with a comforting silence, both of you soaking in the cozy warmth of the evening. As he pulls the car up in front of your house, you pause for a moment, your heart quickening in your chest as you struggle to gather the courage to look over at him.

Instead, you direct your gaze out the windshield, staring at the street ahead of you. The dim glow of streetlights paints the night in soft hues of orange, casting shadows on the quiet neighborhood.

"Do you want to come inside?" you ask, your voice hardly above a whisper.

Joshua turns your face toward his, his touch gentle as he lifts your chin with a soft touch. "You want me to go inside?" he enquires, his tone soft.

You nod, your gaze drawn to his mouth. "Yes."

"Then tell me," he teases, "what exactly are we going to do inside?"

You gulp, your mind racing. "We can... we can..." you stutter. You didn't have an answer on the tip of your tongue.

Joshua leans in close to you, his smile growing wider as he whispers against your skin, "I'm going to come inside, but go easy on me," he says, his breath warm and sultry, "I'm not quite recovered yet."

You shiver at his words. "What do you mean?" you ask, your voice still low and quiet as you look up at him.

"What do you think I mean?" he replies with a smirk, his eyes glinting in the dim light. "I mean," he murmurs, his mouth brushing against your ear as he speaks, "that you might have to take it slow with me."

"Slow? How slow?" You're whispering, not because you're afraid of being loud, it's because you're so horny that your voice is strained. 

Joshua's lips curve into a smirk as he sees the effect he's having on you. 

"Slow," he whispers back, his voice low and seductive. "Slow to the point where you feel yourself starting to drip."

He closes the gap between you, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours as his hands slide up your hips.

"Are you sure you want me to come inside?" he asks, his mouth so close to yours that you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin.

Your mind could only focus on the two last words. Mind foggy. "Come inside?" 

Joshua widens his eyes slightly, then a cocky smile spreads across his face as he registers the double meaning of your words. "Hmm look at you, how nasty... I guess we can do this too..."

His lips crash against yours, no longer gentle but filled with urgency. His tongue delves into your mouth, exploring, tasting. You gasp, the wet noises so sultry inside his sleek car. His hands unclasp your seatbelt, and one slide from your knee to your thigh, slipping under your pencil skirt to feel the lacy panties you wore.

"Slowly, like this," he murmurs against your mouth, his voice too sultry.

His hand moves to the front of your panties, and you instinctively raise your hips as he pulls them down, discarding them onto the car's floor. The air inside the car starts to feel foggy, just like your senses, and your breathing becomes more rapid.

Joshua's hand returns to your now bare skin, his fingers teasing and exploring the wet folds of your pussy. You moan softly into his mouth, your body reacting to every touch. And slow, just like he said, he starts to circle your clit with his finger, making you instantly melt against the seat as you spread your legs wider for him.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and intense, filled with fascination as he watches your reactions. Your mouth can't correspond to the wet kisses anymore, your hips roll against his hand, your legs spasm as you try to keep them open, and your skirt rises, revealing your sopping cunt glistening.

You find yourself pushed back against the seat, your body arching as you grow more desperate for him. His eyes never leave yours.

“I can feel how much you want this.” 

You can only nod, your breath coming in ragged gasps as his fingers speed on your swollen bud. 

“So open, so needy.” he murmurs making you feel that sharp stitch in your belly一your horniness growing. 

His words make you moan, and he chuckles, his voice filled with a gloomy promise. “I want to hear more of that,” he says, his fingers teasing your entrance before slipping inside. You cry out, your body responding instantly to his touch, your head thrown back.

“Joshua,” you gasp, your hands clutching at his shirt as you try to ground yourself.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck. “Yes, Y/N? Tell me what you need.”

“More,” you manage to say, your voice trembling, “I need more.”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a fiery intensity. “More? I can give you more.”

With that, he increases the pace, his fingers moving inside you making the squelching wet songs, louder. He watches you so closely that you feel embarrassed; it is as if he reads everything about you and knows every secret you keep.  

“Every little touch, every little tease… you’re soaking it all up.” He coos, and you feel your orgasm getting closer and closer. 

You can only whimper in response, your body trembling with the need for release. He leans in, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. The taste of him, the feel of him, it’s all too much, and you can sense that you are nearing collapse.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he whispers against your lips. “Let go.”

His words are your undoing. With a cry, you shatter, your body convulsing against his leather seat. Joshua holds you through it, his touch possessive, trying to keep you still so you can feel the waves better. As you come down from the high, you find yourself panting, your body still trembling non-stop.

His fingers are soaked, glistening in the pale light. With a teasing grin, Joshua brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a satisfied pop. You immediately turn your face to the window, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you try to straighten your skirt. His chuckle fills the car, rich and warm.

“Shy now, are we?” he teases, his voice low and playful.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, your hands fumbling with the fabric of your skirt. But Joshua isn’t done with you yet. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “We can resume this inside. What do you think?”

You nod, finally daring to meet his gaze. He gives you a quick peck on the lips before stepping out of the car. You watch him circle around to your side, suppressing a laugh when he catches the glimpse of your knees trembling as you exit the vehicle.

“Did you get this horny?” he can't hide the amusement in his voice.

The walk to your front door feels like an eternity, your fingers fumbling with the keys as Joshua’s need becomes more apparent. He’s pressing his bulge against you, his hands roaming over your body as he kisses your neck, making it hard to focus on unlocking the door.

Finally, the door swings open, and you grab Joshua by the collar of his white shirt, pulling him inside. Your mouths collide in a desperate kiss, his hands clutching your hips as you stumble toward the bedroom. You don’t care about the noise or the awkward angles; all that matters is the friction among you, the urgent need to be closer.

With outstretched arms, you brace yourself against the wall, your body arching toward his as he presses against you. His hands are everywhere—sliding under your blouse, unhooking your bra, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. You moan into his mouth, your hands clutching at his hair while you're absorbed by the feeling.

“Bedroom,” you manage to gasp, your voice breathless and needy.

Joshua’s response is a low growl, his hands gripping your waist as he guides you through the hallway. You barely make it to the bed before you’re pulling at each other’s clothes, the fabric tearing in your haste to be free of it. His shirt falls to the floor, followed by your skirt, his pants, your blouse—until there’s nothing between you but skin and heat.

He pushes you gently onto the bed, his body covering yours as he kisses you sloppy. His hands continue their search, teasing, caressing, making you frantic with need. You arch against him, your fingers digging into his back as you pull him closer.

His cock lays heavily against your belly, a warm, wet spot forming on your skin from his precum. You grab his throbbing length, feeling it pulse under your touch. Joshua shudders, moaning needily against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you and adding to your own arousal.

Your hand collects the sticky lubrication, spreading it along its entire length. You begin to stroke him, your other hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. His eyes flutter open, trying to stay locked on yours as you speed up your strokes. His gasps and whimpers alimented your hunger, making you feel yourself oozing more and more.

At a certain point, he lets out a high-pitched squeak, hiding his face in your neck. "I need to be inside you," he says, his voice strained and desperate.

You close your eyes, the heat of his breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Open this drawer," you murmur, nodding towards the bedside table.

Joshua extends his arm, fumbling slightly as he opens the drawer and finds a couple of condoms. He picks one up, glancing at you with a teasing smile. "Always prepared, huh?" he says, tearing open the shiny packet.

His hands move with such practiced ease that it makes your breath catch when you watch him slide the rubber down his length. His cock looks even more inviting now, sheathed and ready for you.

He positions himself at your entrance, pausing for a moment to look into your eyes. Slowly, he pushes inside, filling you inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, your pussy stretching to accommodate him. Joshua’s groan is deep and throaty, his hands gripping your hips as he bottoms out.

For a moment, neither of you moves, so you adjust to his side, but thankfully his fingers prepared you well in his car. Then, he begins to thrust, his pace is slow at first, his eyes locked on yours, watching every reaction, his ears alert to your every moan, and every wet sound from your stretched little cunt.

You arch your back, meeting his thrusts, your hands clutching his shoulders. “Faster, Joshua,” 

He complies, his pace quickening, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The room is filled with the sex sounds—the slap of skin against skin, the mingled moans and gasps, the creaking of the bed. You feel yourself climbing higher, the knot on your belly desperately wanting to blossom.

Joshua’s rhythm falters for a moment, his grip on your hips tightening. “I’m close,” he whispers, his voice strained.

“Me too,” you reply, your nails digging into his back.

Joshua takes his cock out of you, positioning himself a little further back before slamming all the way in again. The sudden movement makes you grab his forearm, while his other hand lays on your belly. Each thrust is powerful, hitting that perfect, spongy spot inside you that makes you sob with pleasure. You grow tighter around him with every second, the stimulation driving you both wild.

"You're perfect," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

"Am I?" you manage to gasp between his thrusts.

"Absolutely," he praises, his words going straight to your core. "You're so tight, so wet. You're perfect for me."

The praise sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you arch your back and cum for him. Joshua smiles at the sight of you unraveling beneath him—Your legs try to close instinctively, but his hips keep them wide apart. Your eyes roll back, your pussy gushing as your fingers curl around the headboard.

He finds your clit with his thumb, rubbing it just as your orgasm peaks. It shatters you, making you curse.

"Fuck, Joshua! You're so deep... don't stop... please, don't stop. God, you're going to make me cum again."

"You're so fucking tight," he groans, his pace quickening. "I can feel you squeezing me. You're gonna make me cum so hard."

"Keep cumming for me, baby," he whispers, his own voice shaking.

His moans grow louder, his pace more frantic. Your dirty talk pushes him to the brink, and with a final, powerful thrust, he cums hard. His loud moaning, combined with the sensation of his cum filling the condom, makes your head spin.

Joshua leaves you shaking for the second time that evening, fully exhausted and completely satisfied.

Joshua falls on his side beside you, his breaths coming hard and fast. You can't help but tease him, a smirk playing on your lips.

"Are you going to faint here too? Should I call an ambulance? After all, you weren’t as slow as you said you would be."

He laughs, his chest heaving. "I’ve got enough energy to fuck you all night if you want to, leave your bed all drenched," he says, kissing your cheek and playfully slapping your clit, making you shudder.

"All night, huh?" you tease back, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "Big talk for someone who just collapsed next to me."

Joshua grins, his eyes sparkling. "You doubt me?"

"I’m just saying," you reply, your tone playful. "Maybe you should pace yourself. I wouldn’t want you passing out on me."

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "I’m not going anywhere. And if you think that was all I’ve got, you’re in for a surprise."

You chuckle, your fingers dancing down his stomach. "Promises, promises," you whisper, your hand inching closer to his now half-hard cock. "Let’s see if you can keep up."

Joshua groans, his body responding to your touch. "You’re going to regret challenging me," he murmurs.

"Bring it on," you whisper back.

[radiant-reid]

Reunion

Summary: JJ never knew you were dating one of her teammates and that you broke up because of her, but seeing him at JJ's wedding years later changes things.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Angst then smutttt)

Content Warning: 18+ Smut (oral- f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, a little bit of a breeding kink)

Word Count: 2.1k

"So, how's mystery boy?"

After skipping your usual Tuesday night plans twice, thanks to JJ being away on cases, you're finally back in your best friend's living room having a glass of wine and a cheese platter.

It's been an abnormal amount of time to go without seeing each other since you both ended up in DC after moving out of East Allegheny to different colleges. Even with men in the mix now, you both make it a priority to see each other as often as possible. However, her busy schedule and frequent flights to New Orleans have meant you've spent some time apart.

Unknown to her, she knows the so-called mystery boy. Very well, in fact. "He's well." You say slyly, unable not to grin widely.

JJ throws her head back dramatically. "Come on, Y/n! Some detail would be nice."

"It's good." You try again. "He's the sweetest. I'm very happy."

She smirks, letting you know an interesting question is coming your way. "How's the sex?"

It never takes more than a glass of wine for her to be that loose. You don't miss a beat in your answer. "Fabulous."

"Okay, so can I meet him soon?" She pushes like she has been for quite some time.

You wonder what she would think. What would her expression do if you were to say his name out loud right here? Maybe it's not that deep but getting with JJ's closest colleague is dangerous. It was a concern at the start, a reason not to start, but you fell in love with Spencer Reid quicker than you could ever imagine.

"Sure, JJ." You agree, trying to look positively about it. You can only assume she's thinking about the worst possible scenario about your mystery man. He's a criminal or he's far too old for you or he's an ex you promised not to get back with. There are too many options.

She looks triumphant. "Yes!"

You just smile, sending the conversation in a different direction by asking about her boyfriend. He sounds like a great guy and you can tell she's happier than ever before.

Three months ago you met Spencer Reid. It was JJ's birthday and your duty as her best friend to throw her a fun surprise party. That took some coordination with a friend from work. Firstly, that was Penelope, but in order to lure JJ, you needed Spencer Reid. He was a little slow with replying to your texts, but lovely. And after you met him, you were hooked.

Spencer was perfect. Gorgeous, funny, intelligent. His incredible shyness had you confused when he asked you out for dinner the next morning.

Too many espresso martinis provide an explanation for why JJ has no recollection of you flirting with him all night.

You see Spencer as much as you can, but similar to JJ's, his schedule often doesn't allow for consistent visits. So whatever time you do have, you make the most of it. He's still the most amazing boyfriend you've had. Kind, caring, witty, fun, and playful.

He gets whisked away on a case to Miami not long after being home. You didn't know things would be so different the next time you saw him.

He goes quiet on you. You know their cases are intense but you haven't heard from him in an entire week and that's not right.

Can I come over? He finally texts you and you're guessing he's back in DC.

It sounds a little ominous and the message sends a chill down your spine. Sure. I can't wait to see you. There isn't a reply and you sit in limbo in your apartment for almost an hour before he knocks at the door.

You smile when you open it, although you're slightly annoyed there was zero communication or ETA from him. "Hey, Spence, how was it?"

"You knew." He says in a cold, accusatory tone. It's nothing you've ever heard from him.

"Sorry?" You repeat, moving to the side so he can come into your apartment.

He steps in, barely looking at you. "About JJ and Will." He explains.

A little frown takes over your expression. Surely he's not angry that he only just found out. An awkward laugh leaves your lips. "Sorry, Spence. She didn't want anyone knowing."

"I'm your boyfriend!" He exclaims. "You're not supposed to lie to me."

"I didn't." You join the offensive, crossing your arms. You're not enthused about what he's accusing you of. It wasn't even your secret to tell him.

He looks disappointed, face dropping. "Come on." He sighs. "How am I meant to be with you if you don't trust me enough to tell me who our friend is dating?"

"It wasn't my secret to tell." You try to talk some reason into him, pushing down that sick feeling in your stomach telling you that he's breaking up with you.

Spencer shakes his head, his decision- as much as it's killing him- completely made. "I can't do this."

His words make your world come crashing down and you almost can't believe it. You slump to the couch while he makes his way to the door with sad, slow footsteps.

He's looking at you, waiting for you to ask him to say. "Can we not tell JJ?" You ask softly.

"Fine." That's the last thing he tells you before walking out the door, shutting it firmly.

That's it.

The last thing Spencer tells you.

Then he's gone from your life. You talk about him less to JJ and she picks up on what happened and stops asking about him.

You expect to see him when Henry's born, or even at a point in his life. Somehow, you don't. Your schedules never line up and then JJ switches jobs. There's a myriad of reasons but it doesn't happen. You both go on with separate lives.

And then JJ and Will are getting married. You get a frantic call from your best friend's soon-to-be-husband who whispers secret plans to you over the phone. It's perfect, you know JJ will adore the simplicity and elegance of a backyard wedding.

You're there as soon as you can be, helping set up Rossi's backyard so it's gorgeous for the most gorgeous person you know.

You're the maid of honor, of sorts. And you don't get a chance to ask who the best man is before JJ arrives and the ceremony begins.

You strike out as soon as you spot a tall brunette. A tall brunette who made you the happiest you've ever been with a man. And he's still just as handsome.

His eyes bulge when he sees you but he keeps a straight face and clenches his teeth while the ceremony continues. You're mostly focused on how beautiful JJ looks and how sweet their wedding is, but you can't help your mind drifting to Spencer.

You hadn't seen him dressed up like this when you were dating and the tuxedo is a perfect look on him.

"Y/n." He comes up to you when you're getting yourself a glass of champagne.

"Spencer." You reply. His tone doesn't let much about how he's feeling on. All you get is a glimmer of shock.

He stands against the table. "Maid of honor?"

You shrug, a little confused at his question. "You know, I'm surprised I haven't seen you all these years." You admit, letting some honesty slip.

"It was slightly intentional." He offers.

You don't let it offend you. "Best man?"

"I think that means we're supposed to sleep together."

You nearly spit out your sip of wine. There's no way the shy Spencer Reid you once knew just said that.

"We've done that." You reply, trying to keep a straight face after the out-of-pocket comment.

Spencer tilts his head to the side. "You're right."

You really don't know how it happens. Maybe it's a few too many drinks. There's definitely not enough alcohol in your bloodstream to solely blame that. Spencer Reid is as hot as they get. And it's been... longer than you're willing to admit since you've had sex. Even longer since it was good sex.

So there isn't anything telling you to stop when Spencer pushes you up against the door of a room in Rossi's house, lips firmly against yours.

Your dress is hiked up around your waist while his fingers trace up and down your thigh before he even thinks about locking the door. Both of you are far too wrapped up in the moment to think securely.

His hands are quick to the zip of your dress, sliding it down effortlessly and letting it pool at your feet. He takes a moment to look at you and you have to admit, you're a little worried about his reaction. You don't doubt Spencer Reid can pull beautiful women.

"God, you're gorgeous." He says softly, juxtaposing the way he's practically clawing your clothes off you.

"Are you going to compliment me or fuck me like you promised you would?" You ask him, waltzing over to the bed and sitting on the edge.

Spencer smirks at your smart mouth. "You asked for it."

He's kneeling on the floor in front of the bed in seconds, with no regard for his suit pants being wrinkled, just on his knees. There's a sense of urgency that doesn't allow for the time for him to take your panties off so he opts for shifting them to the side.

There's also no time to waste as his tongue melds with your folds, tracing patterns. No one has ever come close to giving head like Spencer does. It's truly mindblowing, the pressure of his tongue and the suction method he uses. You're instantly in bliss, head thrown back against the covers as you moan.

You've lost it when his fingers enter you, pushing past with little resistance. "Holy shit, Spencer. You're incredible."

"Sing my praises." He says against your pussy.

You do. Not even possessing the ability to be embarrassed about it.

And you don't stop. You're withering and moaning on the bed, tugging his curls while he continues pleasing you. Eventually, it's too much. His fingers pumping in and out of you combined with his tongue wrapped around your clit have you finishing in no time.

"Still as good as I remember." As if he couldn't get any hotter, he sucks his fingers into his mouth.

Spencer rises from his knees, now much taller than you. You tug your underwear off before unclipping your bra. "Fuck me, Spencer." You reach out for his belt buckle, toying with it. "Please."

Spencer has lost the shy, timid nature he had the first few times you had sex and he quickly takes off his belt and pants. Once his suit jacket is tossed across the room, Spencer pulls your legs to the end of the bed, making sure you wrap your ankles around his waist. His hands rest on either side of your head and you're precisely where you want to be.

"You're so hot." You tell him with a smirk.

He grins, spreading your legs and inching inside you. The look on his face is an instant confidence boost. Clearly, he's a man in bliss, head thrown back and tongue parting his lips.

"Fuck." He pants.

You agree, barely able to speak from how hard he's pounding you and how good it feels. Although it's annoying to admit, you've never had as good sex as with Spencer.

Your hands wrap around his forearms, noticeably bigger than last time. "Spencer." You moan. "Please. So good."

He caresses your chest, paying attention to your boobs like he hadn't before. "Y/n." He groans, not slowing his pace up. His hips snap against yours with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room. "Can I?" He asks.

It's unlike you to have even let him start without protection but you're not thinking straight enough. All you know is you need Spencer. "Please."

He finishes as deep inside you as he can get, leaning down to kiss you softly. You're breathless like he is when he flops down next to you.

One of Spencer's palms touches your cheek, forcing you to look at him rather than the ceiling. "Hey, pretty girl." He says softly and it makes your heart flip in a way it shouldn't. "Can I take you on a date, Y/n?"

The smile creeping onto your face can't be helped. "Yes. Please."

[hitomisuzuya]

idk abt you but smth abt whiny needy soft!dom morning wood wanderer makes me giggle (,,>﹏<,,)

wanderer (scaramouche) x fem!reader. smut. blow job. soft!dom wanderer. a little bit of consensual somnophilia.

i have been really in the mood to write oral lately😳

wanderer couldn't help it. whenever he fell asleep, he dreamt about you. this particular time, he dreamt that you were taking his cock perfectly from behind, arching your back, and giving him the perfect view of his cock squelching in and out of your tight cunt. moaning like a bitch in heat, dazed words of worship and how good his cock felt fucking into you.

needless to say, when he woke up, he is incredibly hard.

and it didn't help that you are asleep naked next to him, the curves of your body slightly exposed by the blanket, looking way too tempting for your own good.

noticing that you are conveniently turned over your side away from him, he slid closer to you. you are still asleep, and he didn't want to wake you. so he figured he could pump his cock between your thighs, grinding against your pussy and swallowing his moans while he cums. problem solved, no need to disturb you.

"ah fuck your thighs feel good," he hissed softly, maneuvering himself closer to your back and putting a arm around you to anchor himself better. his cock throbbed as it pumped between your thighs, your juices soaking his cock as the tip grazed your clit.

a quiet whine sounded from him as you shifted in your sleep, the tightening of your thigh muscles adding more friction. he increased his pace a little, trying not to lose to control and mindlessly fuck your thighs while your pussy soaked his cock.

he was embarrassed at how consistent his whines were sounding. those are what inevitably woke you up. his arms tightened around you feeling the confusion on your body. "i..i'm sorry," he nuzzled his cheek against your shoulder, "i had this erotic dream about you and i..i..oh fuck," he let out a shaky whine, "i really need this."

you put a hand on wanderer's, your breathing sounding shaky. his leaking cock head rubbing against your clit was making it throb. "it's okay. roll over onto your back," you grinded gently against his cock.

wanderer groans and rolls over, reluctantly taking his aching cock from between your thighs. blushing, he watched you move onto your knees next to him. he didn't think he could get any harder, but watching you angle your ass up as you leaned down made more precum bead onto his cock head.

you took the sheet down off of his cock, your tongue sweeping out to prod into the slit. you snaked your tongue around the tip, delicately kitten licking in a way that made him moan softly.

"that's a good girl," he praised, carding his fingers in your hair as you scoop his cock head into your mouth to suck on, "always so eager to serve me, even in the morning."

wanderer slowly pumped his cock in and out of your mouth. you flatten your tongue, focusing your sucks as a vein buldged to the surface. he let you bob your mouth up and down on his cock at your pace, but the way you ground your warm mouth tightly on his cock while you sucked felt too fucking good.

taking a form hold of your hair, a silent command for you to relax and let him control your head, he thrust his cock deeper into your mouth. you muffled a moan on his cock, drool trickling out the corner of your mouth. you gag as he hit the back of your throat.

"ah fuck, choke on my cock and keep sucking just like that," his husky moan is whimper tinged, increasing his pace once you recovered your breathing. he reached a hand up, groping your ass before parting your now drooling folds. he played with your throbbing clit, enjoying the vibrations of your moans as his cock pulsed on your tongue.

your pussy clenches around nothing, begging to used in the same way he was using your willing mouth to get off. your sucks turn more eager as he held your head in place, his nimble fingers working your clit over as you try and grind down against them.

"swallow it all, understand?" he commanded huskily, pushing his cock into your throat one final time. his hand tightens in your hair, a broken whimper of pleasure sounding from him as salty cum spurts into your mouth. his fingers stroke through your hair as you suck him through his orgasm.

you lick and suck his cock lovingly, submissively letting him control your head until he was satisfied. once he released your hair and took his cock out of your mouth, he put you on your back. spreading your legs, he intends to eat you out until you were whimpering the same way he was.

[lost-time-memery]

I really don't wanna see anyone talking about Betty as if she was a "poor little misguided girl" that had to sacrifice her whole life for a man.

She was her own character and made her own decisions during the whole show! Yes, jumping through the portal basically doomed her life, but it was HER DECISION.

I'm not saying it was a good thing for her, being impulsive and reckless is a very consistent flaw to her character, as well as being passive and inattentive to her self destructive behavior was a flaw to Simon! Their relationship had flaws like any other would, but they loved and admired each other the exact same amount! (Simon went back in time to apologize and say goodbye to her, while Betty refused to accept his loss and tried to go back in time to change the future, he was more willing to let her go AT FIRST)

I'm also devastated that Betty got such a tragic ending, but the important thing is that SHE ACTIVELY CHOSE HER FATE. And she did not regret it.

SHE CHOSE TO STAY WITH SIMON AND NOT GO ON THAT TRIP

SHE CHOSE TO JUMP THROUGH THAT PORTAL

SHE CHOSE TO TRY TO FIX THE CROWN EVEN WHEN SIMON BEGGED HER TO STOP

SHE CHOSE TO STAY BEHIND AND MAKE HER LAST WISH

(I'm also a little bit disappointed with the fionna and cake finale, the way they handled Simon's character development was kinda underwhelming, but seeing people treat Betty like the ultimate victim makes me a lil bit upset... SHE WAS SUPER PROACTIVE)

I'm not trying to romanticize her toxic traits, being this obsessed with someone is not healthy, but at the same time... In a show with world ending monsters and interdimentional beings and telepathic war elephants, the fate of the world in both AT and FaC depending on a normal human woman that just loved someone SO MUCH is so beautiful...

It's PAINFULLY bittersweet but also immensely true to the nature of human beings. 🥲