#My Universe

[itneverendshere]

it's all you're good for, right? - r.c

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

rafe knew you wouldn’t take his disrespect lightly.

you never did.  

he’d expected you to blow up the second he pulled that ignoring shit at the dinning. he was ready for it—your texts coming in hot, maybe you showing up at his house, ready to tear into him like you always did when he pushed too far. he'd never say it out loud, but a part of him almost liked it, the way you’d get all fired up, spitting mad. it was hot.

but you didn’t call. not a single text. you didn’t show up to the party that weekend, and when he tried to hit you up, just looking for a booty call—because fuck, he was so hard thinking about you—it went straight to voicemail. he stared at his phone like an idiot, calling again. blocked.

you? block him? nah, that wasn’t supposed to happen. rafe was the one with the power here, or at least, that’s how it used to be. it was always this push and pull, but he was the one pulling the strings, right? no fucking pogue was ever going to order him around. right?

wrong. the next weekend rolls around, and there you are at one of his parties, looking good as ever, laughing with your friends like nothing happened. and still, not even a glance his way. for two weeks now, you’ve been completely ignoring him, and it’s starting to get under his skin. more than it should.

he watches you from across the yard like a fucking creep, sipping his drink and trying to act like he doesn’t give a fuck, but inside, he’s low-key losing it. he half-expected you to walk right up to him and give him hell like you always do. but no, you’re just... doing your own thing. 

but what’s really making his head spin is what you're wearing. the outfit is pure trouble—skin-tight and leaving almost nothing to the imagination. a barely-there black mini skirt, riding up just enough to make his jaw clench, paired with a tiny top that’s more like a bralette than an actual shirt. it’s low-cut and clings to your curves, thin straps barely holding it in place, and the way it hugs your body?

yeah, he’s fucked. the way the skirt moves when you walk, teasing just enough thigh? it’s like you knew he’d be watching.

he hates how much it turns him on.

every guy at the party notices. he can see the way their eyes follow you as you move through the crowd, laughing, like you don’t even care. but it’s the way you’re ignoring him that’s really pushing him to the edge. normally, rafe loves the attention despite the look of disgust he always greets you with when you show up. loves knowing you’re secretly going to end up in his bed. but tonight? he’s not so sure and it’s killing him.

by the time he corners you, all he can think about is tearing that outfit off. the silent treatment? that shit was way worse than anything you could've said. 

“alrigh’, i get it,” he starts, throwing his hands up like he’s already done with this conversation. “jesus christ.”

you just blink up at him, completely unfazed, like he’s not even worth a reaction. his words might as well be bouncing off a wall. the fact that you’re standing there looking so fucking good, and acting like he doesn’t even exist, is messing with his head more than anything you could’ve said.

he’s pissed, yeah, but more than that, he’s desperate. desperate for a reaction. for anything. but you just brush past him, your body touching his for the briefest second, like you’re doing it on purpose just to make him snap.

rafe stands there for a second, blinking in disbelief. did you just really blow him off like that?

before he even realizes it, he's following after you, shoving through the crowd like a man possessed.

“are you serious right now?” he hisses when he catches up, grabbing your wrist lightly but firm enough to make you stop. the emotion in his voice is undeniable, and everyone nearby is pretending not to watch the little scene. “you're really just gonna walk past me like that?”

karma’s a bitch.

you finally turn to him, but the look in your eyes isn’t anger—it’s indifference. that cold, detached stare that fucks with his head more than any of the shouting matches you’ve had in the past. you pull your wrist free with ease, like his grip is nothing.

“’m over it,” you say coolly, like you’ve already moved on from the whole thing, “whatever this is? it’s not worth my time.”

that does it.

he’s used to the back and forth, the fire between you, but this, you acting like you don’t care at all—it’s new, and it pisses him off more than he thought possible. he steps closer, dropping his voice lower so no one else can hear.

“bullshit,” he says, eyes narrowing. “you’re pissed, i get it. but don’t act like you’re done with me. you aren’t.”

the smirk that curls on your lips is almost cruel.

“watch me.”

you turn and walk away, leaving rafe standing there. he knows he should let it go, but every time he tries to convince himself of that, the way your body looks in that outfit, the way you shut him down so easily, keeps replaying in his head.

and instead of walking away, he’s right back where he started, chasing after you like he can’t stand the idea of not having you anymore.

before you even get two steps away, he snaps.

his patience has run out, and all that pent-up frustration? yeah, it’s got him seeing red. he doesn’t even think about it—just moves. his hand wraps around your arm, and in one swift motion, he’s hoisting you up like you weigh nothing, slinging you over his shoulder.

“what the fuck, rafe!” you shout, your fists pounding on his muscular back, but he doesn’t stop. eyes burning, jaw clenched—he doesn’t give a shit who’s watching. not his friends, not anyone at the party. right now? he’s too pissed off and turned on to think straight. 

you wriggle in his grip, your legs kicking, but he holds you tight, marching through the party like it’s no big deal, even though everyone’s definitely staring. he’ll deal with the fallout later.

“put me down!” you’re practically growling, and maybe under any other circumstances, he would’ve listened. but not tonight. tonight, he’s done playing nice, done pretending like he’s not obsessed with you or your body, done trying to act like he’s got control over this situation when clearly, you’re the one pulling all the strings.

his grip on you is tight, and possessive, and you’re too furious to care about how turned on you secretly are. he doesn’t stop until he reaches his room, kicking the door shut behind him with one solid thud. the sound of the lock clicking is loud in the tense silence. then, he throws you onto his bed, like you're nothing more than a ragdoll.

you bounce once, staring at him with wide eyes.

“what the fuck is wrong with you!” you snap, sitting up on the bed, glaring at him.

he’s pacing now, running his hands through his hair, wild-eyed, like he’s trying to calm himself down but can’t. he turns to you, his face twisted in frustration, like he’s been holding something in for way too long. and when he speaks, his voice cracks just enough to show how on edge he really is.

“you!” he explodes, pointing at you like you're the only thing in the room. “you’re what’s wrong with me!”

his pacing slows down, and suddenly he stops. he turns back to you, both his hands shooting up to his temples, fingers pressing into his head.

“you get in my fucking head,” he admits through gritted teeth, jabbing his fingers into his temples like he’s blaming you for every thought he's had for weeks. “i can’t think straight because of you. every fucking time, you crawl into my head and just—won’t—leave.”

instead of letting his little meltdown get to you, you lean back on your hands, with a bratty scoff. “how is that my fucking problem?” you snap, crossing your arms like you couldn’t care less about his breakdown. “that’s on you, not me. maybe you should try, i don’t know, leaving me alone.”

rafe stares at you, his chest heaving, his jaw clenched tight, “you think this is a joke?” he growls, stepping closer, closing the gap between you two, his presence almost suffocating. “you think you can just sit there and act like none of this is your fault?”

you give him a fake sweet smile, leaning forward just enough to be in his face, “maybe you shouldn’t have fucked me in the first place, hmm? god forbid your friends find out you’ve been slumming it with a pogue.”

it’s the fake docility in your smile that makes him want to break something. he steps even closer, his breath hot and heavy as his eyes lock onto yours, blue and furious.

"that’s what this is?" His voice is low, almost a growl. “you seriously don’t get it, do you?" he leans in, his face inches from yours, his expression almost daring you to keep pushing. "this—whatever the fuck this is between us—this isn’t about them. it’s about you." his hand shoots out, gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. "don’t act like you didn’t know what you were getting into from the beginning."

you yank your chin free, rolling your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he's getting to you. “right. you ignoring me at the dinner? guess i was supposed to just sit there and take it, huh? maybe you wanted me to be a good little bitch and not make any noise.” 

you might be pissed, but you're not just angry—you're hurt, and that fucks with his head more than he cares to admit.

rafe huffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration, looking away for a second before turning back to you. “what the fuck do you want from me? huh? you want me to call you my girlfriend? you want me to fucking introduce you like this is some kind of relationship? be fucking serious.”

"be fucking serious?" you repeat, "you gave me a 200$ tip, you fucking asshole!" you shove him hard in the chest, catching him off guard. “like ’m some kind of fucking whore!”

rafe's eyes widen as he stumbles back a step, “wait—what? no, no, no. that’s not what it meant.”

you glare at him, shaking your head in disbelief. “of course, it fucking was!” you shout, shoving him again, harder this time. “what else would it mean, huh? you throw money at me like it’s supposed to make everything okay, like ’m some kind of... some kind of pogue you can pay off and keep quiet.”

he looks stunned, his mouth opening and closing like he’s trying to figure out what to say. “that’s not—fuck, that’s not what i meant. i wasn’t thinking about it like that, okay? i was trying to help you!" he blurts out, his tone defensive, like he can’t believe you’re twisting his intentions into something they weren’t.

you laugh, but it’s sharp, biting. “help me?” you stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “oh, please. shut the fuck up. why would you ever want to help me, rafe? be real.” he tries to speak, but before he can you’re already stepping back. “if you want to fuck me, just get on with it. i need to leave. so, make it quick.”

what?

“is that what you think this is?” he doesn’t move to touch you, but the tension is strong enough to feel suffocating. “you think ’m just here to—”

“to fuck me? yeah. that’s what this has always been about,” you cut him off, “and you know what? it’s okay. let’s not drag it out. do what you do best—take what you want and leave me the fuck alone.”

he’s not ready to admit that this feels more than just a hookup. he’s not sure if he will ever get there. rafe’s chest heaves as he stares at you. he’s done trying to explain himself. 

“fine,” he snaps, stepping closer until his chest is almost brushing yours. “if that’s what you want.” 

your breath catches in your throat, but you don’t back down. not when you're this annoyed. “yeah, it is. stop wasting my time.”

in one swift motion, rafe pulls you to him by the waist, with his usual roughness that makes you drip between your thighs. his lips claim yours with a bruising force. it’s not soft or sweet—this is raw, messy, all tongue and teeth. his hands are everywhere, gripping your hair, your ass, pulling you flush against him like he can’t have any space between you. you’re both moving with frantic, desperate eagerness, like this is less about desire and more about proving a point.

“is this what you want?” rafe snarls against your lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank your top over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room. “to get fucked stupid and leave? that it?”

you let out a breathless laugh, but it’s overflowing with venom. “that’s all you’re good for, right?”

so much for making peace.

TAGLIST: @drewstarkeys-world @maibelitaaura @maybankslover @jkrafe @willowpains

[arturocordero83]

Her Body, My Universe by The AEYE

[mel-loly]

I liked this flower..   It shines so much...

I wish my life could shine like that   from time to time...

Staying in this dark is so sad..   Will I ever be able to know happiness...?

Will I ever be able to see the light...?   Or will someone bring me this light...?

Well.. I don't know...   But if I were to make a wish..

I would ask for someone who could show me the way to the..

Light

[eonandeons]

im normal about them. i think they do lesbianism together, which is fine

wip photos under cut and perhaps speed paint soon??? who knows? who's to say?

[zhaozi]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊

[theghostoficarus]

Lier.

[spaceadvances]

If we made the most straightforward estimate using today's best technology, we'd state there are 170 billion galaxies in our Universe. But we know more than that, and our modern estimate is even grander: two trillion galaxies.

📷: NASA, ESA, Hubble

[7698]

[hitchell-mope]

Mon El: people on this planet like to get high and watch tv. So Winn and I are gonna go to the top of the CatCo building and watch Derry Girls.

Kara (who doesn’t have the heart to tell Mon El about recreational drugs): sounds awesome.

[demons-art-hell]

Day 9: Idol/Band AU

Yeahhh I love them! Had the most fun with the poses and designing the clothes The lighting was veryy tricky I hope it's okay 🥺

[itneverendshere]

for bitchy pogue reader I'd love some actual introductions to Topper and Kelce after the golf course, they can be huge assholes but we've seen a nicer side to both of them. So Rafe trying to see if group hanging out *is* possible, and it's probably very weird but maybe it works out?

it's not working out just yet....but maybe! soon! thank you for the request💗

get your head in the game

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

you think you had too many shots before leaving the house.

alright, so maybe the vodka was overkill. maybe. but you knew you’d need a little courage to pull off this top that’s basically a vague suggestion of a shirt. the whole thing's simple math—tight skirt, low-cut top, a flick of lip gloss, and, boom, everyone else is irrelevant.

if you wanted, you could have any guy here eating out of the palm of your hand. so why the fuck did you dress thinking about rafe when you’re supposed to distance yourself from that asshole? no idea.

the bonfire’s huge tonight, lighting up all the faces you couldn’t care less about.

you can feel him, hovering somewhere nearby. he’s in that faded sweatshirt he always wears when it’s colder out, the one that smells like salt and smoke and way too many of your bad nights. mister pouty face himself, sulking around the fire, watching you with this look that says he knows he messed up but doesn’t even know where to start patching things over.

you turn your back on him for the millionth time that night, let your hips sway just a little extra, knowing he’s watching. yeah, you’re putting on a show, all right—flicking your hair, laughing louder than you need to. 

you’re just reaching for a beer when you feel hands slide around your waist, and you almost jump out of your skin, but then you catch that familiar, maddening scent of his and your body goes all traitorous, leaning back against him before you snap out of it.

"jesus,” you’re already twisting out of his clasp, turning around, and there he is, standing like he didn’t just sneak up on you with those stupid blue eyes and that stupid, lopsided grin. 

you want to shove him away, but he’s got that look, like he’s begging for a chance without saying a word, and you hate how much it gets to you.

your head had been a mess since that day at the golf course.

“what do you want?” you ask, arms crossed, brows up, giving him that full-on don’t mess with me look.

“to talk,” he’s close, way too close, looking down at you like he’s trying to read every little twitch of your face as if he can just stand there and make things better by breathing the same air.

his hands are still hovering around your waist, like he’s waiting for permission to touch you again. part of you wants to let him, but you just narrow your eyes, tilting your chin.

“aren’t you afraid your little friends are gonna see you?” you edge him on, “talking to a pogue?”

“don’t start,” he says, you can see the pleading in his eyes as he reaches for your waist again, fingertips brushing your hip, like he can’t stand not touching you for another second.

“why not?”

he winces, dropping his hand back to his side, and it’s almost pathetic, how he’s just standing there, not even pretending to defend himself. “i—c’mon, i already apologized—”

you roll your eyes, not trying to hide the smirk pulling at your lips. 

“apologized?” you let out a bitter laugh, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “oh, yeah, that makes up for all the times you acted like i didn’t exist.”

his face crumples, and you can see him struggling, his hand drifting toward your hip again, but he hesitates like he’s afraid he’s about to get slapped away.

it’s almost sad, mr. big shot practically pussy-whipped.

“c’mon, don’t do this,” he murmurs, stepping closer until you can feel the warmth of him. his fingertips ghost along your bare arm, like he’s desperate just to feel you. 

you scoff, leaning back against the cooler, crossing your arms in front of you as his hand slides to your waist, bold and pleading all at once. his touch is warm, and you hate how your body responds like it’s a prayer, like you've been waiting all night for him to finally show up.

“there’s some people i want you to meet.”

his thumb brushes the skin just above your waistband, and he’s so close you can feel his breath against your cheek.

“what?” you huff in annoyance, lifting your chin up as he inches closer, his lips brushing against the side of your neck.

you feel his thumb grazing your skin back and forth, his lips so close you can taste the desperation in his breath.

perhaps it’s the vodka, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you but you feel yourself softening, just a little, against your will.

“my friends.”

you didn’t hear him right. 

his friends? the same friends who wouldn’t even look at you if you walked past them in town? the same friends he’d all but hid you from for months?

“what?” you ask, slower this time, more disbelief than anything, and you tilt your head up to get a better look at him. 

he’s got that kicked puppy look in his eyes, and you’re not even sure what to make of it.

this is rafe cameron, the guy who wouldn’t be caught dead with you outside the bedroom, now practically begging to introduce you to his kook buddies?

“i want them to know,” his voice trails off, “i want them to know ‘m with you.”

“with me?” you repeat, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm in your voice. “since when?”

this can’t be real—this can’t be the same rafe who couldn’t even look you in the eye outside his house three months ago.

“i told you, the other day at the golf course.”

you stare at him like he’s stupid, “you mean, when you went alpha on those little frat boys?”

“i saved you from them, okay.” 

you’re seconds away from outright laughter when he just keeps looking at you with those fucking pleading eyes, that hand grazing your cheek in a way that should be soft but instead feels like he’s trying to imprint himself into your skin.

why the fuck is this so endearing to you.

he sounds almost earnest—almost. but you’re not giving him an inch, not after months of him acting like he didn’t know your name outside of his bedroom. 

“what do you mean, ‘saved me’?” you raise an eyebrow, biting back a smirk. “saved me from what? a little attention?”

rafe lets out a rough exhale, glancing down with a frustrated shake of his head.

“they were hitting on you,” he mutters, his hand tightening on your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you aware of every single inch of his hold on you. “and ‘m not gonna stand around and watch some asshole get his hands all over what’s mine.”

mine?  he’s really lost it. 

“country club, i don’t know if you hit your head golfing and this is some post-head trauma hallucination, but ‘mine’ implies you want something more than whatever the fuck this is.” you motion between the two of you, throwing a hand up in exasperation.

“why don’t you ever call me by my name?” he grumbles, just like he did the other day on the golf course. he lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “except when—”

your mouth drops open. is he serious? this shit again?

“except when what?” you glare at him as you swat his chest. 

he’s got that smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

“you only call me rafe when,” his voice drops deliciously, and he leans in close, eyes half-lidded and fixed on your lips. “…when ’m inside you.”

“shut up,” you hiss, smacking his chest again, but he doesn’t move. instead, his smirk grows as he catches your wrist and holds it, letting his fingers trace over your knuckles.

before you can retort, there’s a loud cackle from behind you.

you turn, and there they are: topper and kelce, both looking like they’ve stumbled into a parallel universe.

“whoa, what’s this?” topper’s smirk is almost as wide as rafe’s. “didn’t know our boy here had himself a—” he raises his eyebrows, letting the word hang with a smug twist of his mouth. kelce snickers, crossing his arms, eyes darting between you and rafe.

you’re already huffing, half-prepared to watch rafe put on his usual bad boy with daddy issues mask, toss out some stupid excuse, or worse—let them think you’re just a fucking hole to him.

rafe gives your waist an extra squeeze, fingers pressing into your side as if he’s staking a claim.

“this,” he says, clearing his throat like he’s about to announce something official, “is my girlfriend.”

you blink, utterly thrown, and from the look on their faces, topper and kelce are right there with you, both staring at rafe like he’s just grown an extra head.

“your what?” kelce sputters out, eyes widening, clearly expecting the punchline.

you open your mouth to say something snarky, make some joke out of this whole ridiculous scene, but rafe’s fingers are tracing slow, warm circles against your hip and you can’t think straight to save your life.

god, old you would’ve ridiculed yourself for being putty in the hands of a kook of all people. 

“girlfriend,” he repeats, like he’s spelling it out just for them. “want you both to meet her.”

you swear kelce’s jaw drops, while topper lets out a low, incredulous laugh. tweedledum and tweedledee at their best.

“you’re serious,” topper mutters, giving you a once-over and shaking his head in disbelief. “i thought she was just a—”

“yeah, ’m serious,” rafe cuts in, his tone brooking no argument.

you must’ve missed the part where you two talked about this thing like adults and he proceeded to ask you. 

“your what?” you bite out, as you try to wrench his arm away, but his grip only tightens, he’s prepared for a full-on wrestle if it keeps you there.

“hey—will you just stay here?” he murmurs, voice low enough that it’s just for you. 

you’d throw something at him if you could. you yank his hand away anyway, tearing yourself free from his grip. “stay? are you kidding?”

you’re already storming off into the crowd, but you still hear kelce behind you, their voices , “that went well.”

rafe curses under his breath, but you just keep walking, not looking back, even as you can feel him running after you, those long legs of his making it easy to catch up.

“wait! seriously, wait!”

 like hell you’re going to let him off the hook so easily.

“not happening!” you shout over your shoulder. 

you could turn around and give him one last piece of your mind, but a part of you knows it’ll only lead to more hurt feelings—yours or his. you push through a group of people huddled around the bonfire, and it’s only when you reach the edge of the beach that you finally stop, trying to catch your breath.

“why do you always do this?” rafe’s voice comes from behind you. you don’t turn around, knowing that if you see that look on his face, you might just give in.

“do what?” you shoot back, crossing your arms defensively.

“run away,” he almost whines, taking a step closer, and you can hear the frustration in the way his throat tightens up, “you never give me a chance to explain.”

“explain what? that you want me to be your girlfriend when two weeks ago, you couldn’t even look at me in front of your friends?” you spin to face him, “this is ridiculous.”

rafe opens his mouth, probably to defend himself, but the look on your face shuts any attempt down.

“i asked you to stay.”

you groan, itching to pull your hair out, “what are you talkin’ about?”

“that night, i asked you to stay.”

“and proceeded to ignore me the next day, yes, i’m well fuckin’ aware.”

you want him to feel a sliver of what he’s put you through, but he just steps closer, almost like he’s trying to coax you back.

“i was trying to figure things out,” he says, like that’s supposed to mean something to you. “it’s not easy, alright?”

“were you incredibly tortured by the thought of letting your friends know you were slumming it with a ‘pogue’? please.”

“what, you really think i don’t care about you?” he’s pleading now, his face just inches from yours. “because if you don’t know that by now, then i don’t know what else i can do.”

you laugh bitterly. Is he actually serious?

“you can grow a fucking pair. where was this brave, ‘caring’ version of you last week? or the week before that?” you throw a hand up, trying to make him see how obvious this all is. “when you could’ve just acted like a man and told your friends instead of pretending i was some embarrassing secret.”

“’m trying to fix that,” he says, his desperate, “right here, right now.”

“and ’m supposed to just forget the way you treated me all those times?”

“can you just let me try to be better?”

you swallow, biting your lip. he’s closer now, and you can smell that familiar cologne and saltwater.

“it’s gonna take more than a few pretty words.”

“i know,” he says, nodding like he’s promising you something. “that’s why i want you to meet my friends, why i want them to know ’m with you.” his fingers finally, lace with yours, and he looks down at your hands, “i want to do this right.”

you stare down at his hand in yours, and for a second, yeah, your heart stutters, betraying every ounce of pride you’ve tried to keep intact through this whole mess.

this is rafe we’re talking about. kook royalty, king of mixed signals, the guy who’s too proud to admit when he’s wrong, especially when his boys are watching. the guy smells good, he looks like sin, and he’s saying all the things you’ve wanted to hear since day one.

a few weeks ago, you’d have laughed at the idea of ever feeling anything real for him. you, a pogue with a mouth on you, and him, a kook with daddy issues and an ego bigger than his bank account. but here you are, letting him pull this romantic shit on you.

is he actually worth all this? you could do better; you know that.

you could have someone who doesn’t make you feel like an option, someone who’s not constantly forcing you to guess what the hell he wants.

the real question is, do you actually believe he’s gonna change? or is this just another moment of him saying whatever he has to so he doesn’t lose the convenience of you?

you huff, half-scoffing, half-sighing, because honestly, maybe he does sound genuine for once, and maybe a part of you wants to believe him so badly you could actually throw your whole life away. 

“prove it then,” you say it like you’re daring him. “day by day. if you’re serious, you’ll show me. and you’ll handle your idiot friends in the process.”

“deal.”

you raise a brown, “you’re not gonna think about it?”

he shrugs, “nothin’ to think about.”

you roll your eyes, because that line should be cheesy, but it lands. he really has no right to be this good at disarming you with a few well-placed words. and the worst part? he knows it. 

“can i kiss you?”

of course he'd say something like that. of course, after all the back-and-forth, the pushing and pulling, he’d just stand there and ask to kiss you like everything’s solved.

you sigh, tilting your head like you’re seriously considering it. "you think a kiss is gonna make me forget every dumb shit you did?"

he smirks, all cocky confidence, but he knows he’s on thin ice. “nah, but i figured it’d be a start.”

you almost hate him for making it sound so tempting, you wish it didn't feel this good to be wanted.

you shake your head, resisting the impulse to let him off easy, but how he’s looking at you… ugh. you can’t help it, you’re thinking with your pussy at this point.

"fine," you say, trying to sound annoyed even as your heart's practically pounding out of your chest. "one kiss, no tongue.”

his mouth actually drops open, and he's staring at you like you’ve just told him he can only have one fry out of the whole basket.

"no tongue?" he repeats, eyebrows practically hitting his hairline. he's doing this thing where his mouth opens and closes like he’s a fucking fish, "wait, please—what do you mean, no tongue?"

you only just manage to keep a straight face, because fuck, this is killing him, and it’s almost cute.

"exactly what i said," you nodd, crossing your arms with this wicked little smirk. "you wanted a kiss. you get one.”

he’s looking at you like you insulted his entire lineage, "c’mon, just a little tongue. you know you wann—"

“absolutely not,” you wrinkle your nose, laughing as you cut him off. maybe you do, but this is way more fun, watching him squirm.

“fine,” he groans, moving in close, the glint in his eye tells you he’s about to break all the rules the second he’s got you there. he leans in, almost sulking, and you feel him press a single, very tame, very tongue-free kiss to your lips, “so... no tongue later either? when ’m between your legs? 'cause i’d hate to break your rules.”

son of a bitch.

it’s useless to act unaffected when he’s looking at you like that.

“pull that shit again, rafe, and you’re getting blue balls for the next month.”

he looks scandalized, that smirk dropping as he watches you with wide, pleading eyes. “you wouldn’t.”

“play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

his jaw drops a little like he can’t decide whether to laugh or fall to his knees and beg for mercy. “you’re seriously cruel, y’know that?”

“course i do.”

[rayisemo]

Webtoon comics I think are underrated.

Now, I just want to make it clear that when I say “underrated” I don’t mean as if it isn’t heard of or been read, just that it’s underrated in the sense that nobody talks about it, makes posts about it, fanfics, fan arts, etc.

…and if you haven’t read these then I highly recommend you do!!! It’s so worth it, trust! I’ll add in a little review too!

1. DEATH: Rescheduled (Thriller)

The story in short is about a world where you have the Kill Law, a law where you are legally allowed to kill one person a year, no consequences. However the “Penny” Kreyul and his friends disagree with the Kill Law and are going to put an end to it no matter what.

Death: rescheduled had me so captivated that I refused to sleep before I finished reading. I even spent money on this shit because it was so entrancing! My favourite episode was by far 66, it was so funny and it builds up ships and just pure wholesomeness of the group.

The characters all have great personalities, the story is amazing and omg the art is so beautiful. You’ll love it.

2. Sable Curse (Fantasy)

This story follows a young girl named Tarron, a girl who is cursed and will die in 6 months. Her (honestly abusive) parents decide to take her and her sister to a holiday retreat. There she ends up finding new friends, herself, potential love, and maybe even a cure for her curse. But as it turns out, she’s not the only one cursed either.

This story is amazing! The art is wonderful, the characters are perfect, some we hate, some we love. We learn throughout the story more about this curse, and even about this special holiday retreat. There is so much mystery to uncover and it is one of my favourite webcomics.

Now, I’ve heard that most people have actually read it, but I encourage that we make a proper fandom for this series!

3. Marionetta (Fantasy)

Two best friends decide to go out and visit the travelling circus. However after a while Julia’s best friend Kamille disappears. Julia is determined to find her again and hunts down the circus, where her best friend is now living. Julia is still going to bring her home and end up losing something very valuable. Her life. For this circus is for the dead. Now Julia has to uncover the true secrets behind the circus whilst still trying to bring her and Kamille home. Will she manage? Or will she have to kill Anthonn Gremminger to save her life?

When I tell you this webcomic is a roller coaster of emotions. There are plenty of ships to chase, characters to stan, and many theories to explore. I love this webcomic so bloody much and I was actually surprised that there wasn’t a lot posted about it.

This is such a cool and dark story, with lovely and cute art. I could talk about it for hours.

4. After School Activities For Unripe Apples (Drama)

A wholesome slow burn between Mi-ae and an old childhood friend, Cheol. When another year starts and Mi-ae needs to take school more seriously the son of the family friends shows up in her class, but now seen as Lucifer, a hostile boy who ends fights - but is that the boy Mi-ae remembers? Who she know knows and loves?

This is a cute, funny and entertaining webcomic. You would think that things would be so simple, however due to school, parents, and other issues the characters face of themselves and others, it is difficult to understand and accept your own feelings. This is exactly why I love this series so much, it’s relatable and adorable. We especially love Mi-ae.

There are a few fanfics out there, but honestly where is the love it deserves??

5. My universe (Romance)

Apart from the normal college life Hayeon lives, she has this special gift.. she can communicate with the universe. She ends up communicating with an alien, who she gives the name Ujun. They want to be able to actually meet each other, but alas that is nearly impossible. But imagine the surprise when Ujun ends up taking over the body of one of Hayeons classmates, and crush, Hyeonsu. Now they must figure out a way to send him back whilst still spending some time together. However the peacefulness and secrets can’t be kept as the aliens are taking over. What will Hayeon do now? And can she even trust Ujun anymore?

Now this story deserves its own universe fr. The art is super cute as is the story, however things get more complicated as the story progresses. When I was still reading this the first thing I would do in the morning is read the next episode as soon as I got the daily pass because it was so good! Obviously I’m not going to spoil the ending, however the waves of emotions this series brings you is inhuman.

All in all it’s a fantastic webcomic that deserves so much love and attention!

6. Stray Souls (Fantasy)

In a world of magic and string weaving, some are fortunate and some are not. Eylin isn’t particularly good at string weaving, however that doesn’t stop her and her friends from stopping the wicked and doomed Amethyst King. Follow along the difficulty journey with friendship, love, and a whole lot of mystery. But what is it all worth in the end?

Holy moly this story is AMAZING. The plot is genius and the art is fantastic, the characters are so original and all have such amazing personalities!! Although, it’s a bit hard to keep track of them all😭 still love them all.

All in all it’s so amazing and has so much potential to be incredibly popular, yet there is no fandom!? Give it attention!!

7. Spirit Fingers (Drama)

Adorable Amy Song is incredibly self conscious and insecure. She has no support and no confidences, however after stumbling upon an art club drawing each other and their wacky poses - she ends up becoming their model too. After meeting a cute guy and getting his number she enters the group herself! This group accepts her with love and so much care, and she finally starts to feel more confident in herself and her art! She might even get a boyfriend!

This is quite literally the cutest and most heartwarming webcomic I’ve read in a while. And there is no one talking about it!!’ It’s been around for sooooo long too!!! When I tell you I cry, and laugh, and smile so hard at every chapter!! If you love a heartwarming, coming of age, and found family comic - then this is perfect!! And the art is beautiful!! It’s a perfect read for artists!!

Miss Amy is literally so relatable for those who don’t feel very pretty or have any sorts of insecurities regarding looks or academics. It’s a beautiful, long, and mostly free (if you’re fine with ads) comic, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever found.

Now! So far this are all the webcomics that come to mind! I think all of these are great and I just know that so many more will enjoy these if they gave them a chance.

I’d love to talk about these with other people, and I’d even love it if others would like to share some webcomics they believe are underrated too.

All of these comics are from Webtoon, and are so worth your time! Please let me know if there was anything I missed.

(I might add more in the future 😉)

Edit: sadly the pictures are now a little awkward and too big for my liking… but I hit the limit of 10 pictures 😔🙏

💗- Anyways lots of love!

[mel-loly]

Also- Happy Friendship/Friends Day to all my friends, mutuals and followers!🫶💖

And thank you also too very much to all of you for being part of the life that God offered to me, you are all very special and always know that I love each one with all my love! You guys are amazing :]💛

[joyjoy-the-troll]

Happy halloween everyone ^^

[zhaozi]

ก็อ้ายเป็นคนแบบนี้🥺 // i'm a person like this 🥺