#again it's probably not that deep but whatever

[nekoashiii]

⠀ ⠀Maid to Be Caught

Pairings: Lads!men x Afab!Reader

Summary: While trying on your maid dress, your husband walks in the room.

Notes: masterlist \ other 3 li's will be in part 2

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Sylus

It was a nice afternoon, you were free thankfully, no missions and no annoying wanderers to take care of—to make it better or worse Sylus was sleeping. so you took the opportunity to scroll online and see if anything catches your eyes. lord and behold you found a maid dress, without much thinking, you bought it.

You had been waiting for it for days, refreshing the tracking page every few hours, and now it was finally here—your brand-new maid dress. The moment you pulled it out of the package, excitement buzzed through you. The fabric was soft, the lace details intricate, and the little apron? Absolutely adorable. It was perfect.

Slipping it on, you admired yourself in the full-length mirror, turning from side to side. The dress hugged you in all the right places, flaring out at the waist in a playful way. The stockings that came with it were silky smooth against your skin, and the headband with tiny ruffles added the finishing touch.

You couldn’t help yourself.

Lifting the hem slightly, you struck a ridiculous, dramatic pose—a mix between a butler’s stance and a cutesy maid greeting.

“Welcome home, master~” you purred into the phone, barely holding in your laughter.

On the other end, your friend burst into cackles. “Oh my god, you actually did it! You’re insane.”

You snickered. “I know, I know. But it looks kinda cute, right?”

You tilted your head, pouting at the mirror before attempting another pose—knees touching together, arms in an exaggerated curtsy.

And that was when you heard it.

A quiet shuffle at the doorway.

Your stomach dropped.

Slowly, your gaze slid from your reflection to the full-length mirror’s edge, catching sight of a tall, imposing figure standing at the entrance of the room.

Sylus.

The man who could make grown men tremble with a glance, stood there motionless, his piercing red eyes fixed on you.

Your entire body froze.

A heavy silence filled the room, broken only by the faint rustling of fabric as you instinctively dropped your ridiculous pose and yanked down the hem of your dress.

On the phone, your friend was still wheezing, completely unaware of the situation. “Did you just—oh my god, do it again, I need a video!”

You snapped your arm up so fast you almost flung the phone across the room, onto the bed. “I have to go.”

And then you hung up.

But Sylus was still Standing. and staring.

His usual composed aura was still intact, but there was something unreadable in his expression. His sharp gaze flickered, scanning you from head to toe. He had come in here looking for something—probably his glasses that he breaks weekly—but whatever thought had been on his mind was clearly gone now.

The way his lips parted slightly, his crimson eyes darkening just a fraction..oh no.

You cleared your throat, trying to salvage what little dignity remained.

“I-I can explain.”

His brows raised slightly, but he still didn’t say a word.

Your fingers twitched, gripping at the apron’s edge. “I, uh… I was just… testing the fit?”

Not a single reaction.

Just slow, agonizing silence.

You swallowed hard. “...Do you, um. Need something?”

Finally, Sylus moved. His voice came out smooth, deep, with the barest hint of amusement curling at the edges.

“My glasses.”

Right. The reason he was here in the first place.

Your eyes darted around the room in a panic before you spotted them—sitting right on the vanity. You lunged for them, grabbing the frames and all but shoving them into his hand.

“Here! Your glasses! Now you can go.”

Sylus took them, but instead of leaving, he took a slow step closer. The air between you tensed, thick with something you couldn’t quite name.

His fingers ghosted over the lace trim of your apron. “So,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. “This is what you’ve been waiting for eagerly?”

You felt heat crawl up your neck. “it’s just a silly thing! I just thought it would be cute, you know? Nothing serious.”

His lips quirked up slightly, but the glint in his eyes was unmistakable. “Cute?”

You nodded stiffly.

He exhaled, the smallest chuckle slipping past his lips before he leaned in, his mouth dangerously close to your ear.

“I’d say it’s more than just cute.”

Your breath hitched.

And then, as if nothing had happened, Sylus pulled back, slipping his glasses on. The sharp, unreadable expression returned as he turned toward the door.

“I have a meeting soon,” he said over his shoulder, pausing just before stepping out.

“But keep that on. I’ll deal with you later.”

And with that, he was gone.

Leaving you standing there, heart hammering, dress still clutched in your hands.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Caleb

You stared at the sleek black box sitting that has just arrived on your bed, heart pounding in anticipation. The moment your friend sent you the link to the maid dress, You had ordered it on a whim—a harmless joke, really. A spur-of-the-moment decision fueled by boredom and the absurd thought of wearing something so… unlike you. And now, it was here.

The maid dress.

"Well," you muttered, peeling the packaging away. "No going back now." You said as you dialed your friend.

The fabric was surprisingly high quality. Smooth, dark with crisp white ruffles, a long apron, and—oh, stars above—the thigh-high stockings that came with it. You could already imagine Caleb’s reaction if he saw you in it—his sharp purple eyes widening, his jaw going slack.

That thought alone was enough to make you huff out a nervous laugh. You weren’t exactly the type to play dress-up, but there was something thrilling about the idea of stepping into this ridiculous ensemble, if only for your own amusement.

With a deep breath, you stripped down and pulled the outfit on, piece by piece. The dress fit snugly, hugging your body in all the right ways, while the stockings added an extra touch of risqué elegance. You adjusted the frilly headpiece in the mirror, tilting your head this way and that.

And then, because you had zero shame when alone, you struck a pose.

One hand on your hip, the other delicately raised near your chin, tilting your head at a flirtatious angle.

Oh, this was hilarious.

A smirk curled on your lips as you picked up your communicator and started a call with your friend. The moment they answered, you grinned.

"Okay, before you say anything," you started, shifting into another over-the-top pose, "just appreciate the absolute artistry of this moment."

A burst of laughter crackled through the speaker. "No way—did you actually put it on?"

"Damn right, I did," you said proudly, twirling slightly so the skirt flounced up. "And I look incredible."

Your friend wheezed. "You are so unhinged. Hold on, let me take a screenshot—"

The door to your quarters slid open.

You froze.

Caleb stood in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the floor. His dark brown hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run a hand through it in frustration. The deep purple of his eyes locked onto you instantly, flicking down your form in a single, silent assessment.

Your stomach plummeted into oblivion.

Neither of you spoke.

"...Babe?" you croaked.

Caleb blinked once. Slowly. "I was looking for my data pad."

"Ah," you said, voice an octave higher than usual. "Cool. Yeah. Makes sense."

A beat of unbearable silence. Then, with painful precision, Caleb reached to the side table, grabbed his data pad, and—without breaking eye contact—straightened to his full height, trying his best not to laugh.

His lips parted, as if he wanted to say something. Then he shook his head, turned on his heel, and left.

The door slid shut.

Static silence.

Then your communicator exploded with laughter.

"NO WAY. HE SAW YOU?!"

You groaned, dropping to your knees. "This is all your fault!"

"His face—his reaction—oh my god, please tell me you got that on camera."

You whimpered. "I'm never recovering from this."

Meanwhile, somewhere down the hall of the spaceship, Caleb leaned against the cool metal wall of the corridor, pressing a hand over his mouth.

His datapad was forgotten in his grip.

The image of you, in that damn dress, was permanently burned into his brain.

"Stars help me," he muttered, exhaling sharply. "What did I just witness?"

[reiding-writing]

Hi! Congrats on the 3k followers!

I'm so sorry, I kind of realised that I only gave a dialogue prompt and not a trope in my earlier request so is it okay if I revise my ask?

So, can I please request:

dialogue prompt: (spencer) always turning (his) head if your name is mentioned (falling in love)

trope: affectionate smiles and eyes crinkling with a smile that's directed specially at you.

spencer era: early seasons!spencer (season 1/2)

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day ♡

THE TELL. /spencer reid/

(spencer) always turning (his) head if your name is mentioned

affectionate smiles and eyes crinkling with a smile that's directed specially at you.

s1! spencer x gn!reader 0.5k fluff event masterlist. main masterlist.

a/n | thank you lovely <3

You don’t think much of it at first. It’s a coincidence, probably. A quirk. Spencer is attentive by nature, always listening, always absorbing. The kind of person who notices things others don’t.

But then it happens again. And again.

“Yeah, I was just talking to—”

His head turns before your name is even fully spoken. Like clockwork. His hazel eyes snap toward the sound, his fingers faltering on the pages of whatever book he’s reading. The shift is quick, automatic, like he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

It happens at briefings, during casual bullpen chatter, even across the jet when someone brings you up in passing. If your name is mentioned, Spencer is looking for you.

At first, you chalk it up to habit. Spencer is naturally curious, always interested in conversations. But after weeks of catching his gaze lingering just a second too long, of noticing the way his expression softens when he finds you, doubt creeps in.

And it doesn’t help that Morgan catches on.

Like now, in the bullpen, when he throws a teasing remark over his shoulder—something lighthearted, your name tucked into the middle of it—Spencer reacts instantly.

His head lifts. His gaze lands on you. And there it is again. That look.

Morgan smirks knowingly. “See? Like clockwork,”

Your face heats up. “That doesn’t prove anything,”

Morgan leans closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Come on, tell me you haven’t noticed. The man could be halfway through a genius-level thought and still turn at the sound of your name,”

You risk a glance at Spencer. He’s still looking at you, but now his brows are drawn together, confused. “What doesn’t?”

You shake your head, fumbling to look busy with your case file. “Nothing, Reid,”

But Morgan’s amused expression doesn’t help the way your heart stutters in your chest.

Because now that you’re paying attention, you realise it’s not just the way he looks for you. It’s the way he looks at you.

That soft, warm-eyed kind of attention. The way his posture relaxes when you’re nearby. The way his lips curl into a small, barely-there smile—different from the polite, tight-lipped ones he gives others.

And then, just as if to make things worse, Spencer does it again.

He smiles at you.

Not just any smile. That smile.

The one that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, the one that’s softer than the ones he gives the rest of the team. Like he doesn’t even realise he saves it just for you.

Your breath catches.

You swallow hard, pretending you’re still reading the words on the page in front of you. But they blur together, meaningless.

Morgan chuckles, clearly enjoying your reaction. “You’re in deep, aren’t you?”

You don’t answer. You don’t have to.

Because Spencer is still looking, still smiling like you’re the only thing in the room worth paying attention to.

And yeah.

You’re in trouble.

[exquisiteserotonin]

Is There Free Breakfast Here?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Rating: E is for Explicit - 18+ only 🔞MDNI🔞

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: Eddie comes home from a gig locked out of his trailer, so what else is left for him to do but hang out with you, his best friend?

Warnings: Oral (M and F receiving), Fingering, Squirting if you Squint, P in V (protected, come on wrap it up!) Friends to Lovers,

A/N: My first venture of doing anything outside of Pedro or Oscar stuff. I love writing so much and I needed to do more. I hope that you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please be kind, this was not beta'd. <3

Your eyes grow heavy with each passing minute. Silence holds you as tight as you hug your body pillow. Incessant taps start coming at your window, each one louder and stronger than the last. You work it out through your mind that it’s probably not an animal, especially since whatever it is refuses to stop. With a loud groan you roll yourself out of bed and push your curtains open to see Eddie standing outside in the dark. His arm is cocked back, ready to toss another pebble at your window. You roll your eyes and he just grins before he sticks his tongue out at you like a damn fool. 

“Just come to the front door!” You shout to him, thankful that your mom was working the night shift at the hospital.

You open the door and he meets you with an even bigger grin than he had at your window. His curls are slightly damp, you observe as he moves past you inside the house. He’s dressed in his black leather jacket, a white t-shirt, and his tightest black, ripped jeans. It’s most badass band ensemble, he’s told you in the past.

“Soooo glad you answered,” he quips in his typical style. Nothing is ever serious with Eddie. “I hear you have a vacancy. Is there free breakfast here?”

“Where’s your uncle?” you question, wondering why he decides to come knocking at your window at 1 in the morning. 

“Locked me out, you know the usual.” He shrugs, “Sometimes I think he forgets I even live in the same trailer.” 

You frown, crossing your arms over your chest and you breath out a loud sigh. No wonder Eddie “acts out” as everyone in Hawkins is wont to say. Just thinking about it pisses you off but you remind yourself, and him, that he is always welcome in your home. You begin to fidget, swinging your arms around before placing them at your hips. Your oversized t-shirt slips off your right shoulder from absent-mindedly swinging your arms at your side Yet through your restlessness, you swear you catch Eddie glancing at the slightest bit of skin it reveals. 

“How was the gig?” you ask, trying not to ruminate on a passing glance that you couldn’t even validate.

He swings his head around, throwing it forward before he starts dancing towards you while dramatically playing what he thinks is the very best air guitar. 

“It was bitchin’!” He exclaims, his eyes wild and energetic.

“You smell,” you tease him as you look at the sweat that still lingers on his t-shirt. 

It wasn’t a lie. He moves past you, the scent of smoke, beer, and him breezes to your nose. 

“Oh ouch,” he grabs his heart, as you pierce it with your sarcasm. “Can I use your shower, then?”  

You nod, gesturing towards the bathroom even though he already knows where it is. While the sound of the rushing waters of the shower fill the walls of your modest trailer, you open the door to your brother’s room. It’s quiet, organized, and untouched while he is away at college.You grab a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt to offer Eddie when he is done. 

You wait in your room, going back to hugging your pillow, nearly falling asleep again until you hear the shower stop, and then footsteps. Eddie saunters into your room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. You clear your throat, feeling something different…something unexpected stirs deep inside you. Trying to shake it off, you grab the folded shirt and sweatpants, presenting it to him. He eyes it, the corners of his lips turning downward in disgust. 

“Are those your brother’s?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“I’m not wearing anything that’s touched your brother’s balls.

“Eddie, that's gross, you're gross!” you exclaim and roll your eyes. “It’s not like I’m asking you to put on a pair of his underwear.” 

“You’re gross!” he retorts, pointing a finger at you as his other hand tightens the towel around his waist.

He struts before you and sits next to you on your bed. Your eyes follow him and how the towel shifts with every move. You stiffen with each shift, half hoping and half dreading the moment his towel would somehow slip off him.

Fuck. You think to yourself. What is happening? This is Eddie. Your stinky, sweaty, goofy best friend, Eddie Munson. 

“Heeeeey, you awake there?” He says, waving his hands in front of your face. 

Your neck grows hot when you realize that you’ve been staring at him. Your throat feels dry as the embarrassment creeps up to your ears and to the apples of your cheeks. You try your best to hide it, but you know that he’s caught you. You feel frozen as he turns his torso towards you before scooting closer. His eyes travel over your face before traveling down the length of your body to observe and investigate the language that your posture holds. 

“Am I making you nervous?”He says with a wicked grin.

You shake your head “no”  too quickly, too forcefully in response. 

“Hm,” he frowns, unconvinced by your reply. “You sure about that?”

He leans forward and closes the space between you even more. Unconsciously, you lick your lips, unable to keep your eyes off his body. You take in every muscle and how droplets of water cling to his skin. His hand moves closer, almost too close, to your thigh and it burns. And you can’t help it. Your heart races. The tingle you feel in the pit of your stomach moves lower, until you feel a quiver of desire in your pussy.

“What are you talking about?” Again, your answer comes out much too quickly and your ears grow red and hot.  “I’m fine” 

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” He’s teasing you now as his face moves close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips.

“Eddie, I---,” you stutter, the flush and heat spreads over your entire body. 

“Are you gonna let me fucking kiss you or not?”

Grateful for the invitation, you grab his face and press your lips to his, savoring the taste of them. You begin to explore his mouth with your tongue as you wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders and press your body to his bare chest. You can feel him brace himself with one hand on the bed while the other explores your waist beneath your shirt. He lowers you, breaking your kiss breathlessly and pulling your arms off him. He pushes your shirt up and you help him by gathering the fabric over your arms and your head. He draws in a sharp breath and he taps the roof of his mouth with a light tut. He’s shaking his head in awe. 

As he lowers his lips to your ears, his comes out in a deep growl , “You’re so fucking perfect.” 

You gasp as he nibbles your ear. Your breathing gets harder as he lowers his lips to your neck and then to your collar bone until his tongue rolls over your right nipple. You buck your chest upward with a moan at the sensation.

He moves his lips back to yours taking you in again with another long, deep kiss. You’re devouring each other almost as though you haven’t tasted anything in months. You roll your pelvis up towards his just as he’s grinding onto yours. 

The hold the towel has on his waist is precarious and you feel his cock tenting the thick fabric, desperate to reach you. So you help him out, pushing the fabric until he is naked before you. A sigh escapes your mouth as you stop to admire his cock. It’s perfect. More perfect than you imagined it to be and it’s standing at attention for you. The tip is a deep shade of pink, precum just escaping. Without a word you’re sitting up and pushing him down on the bed. His big brown eyes are wide and wild. And for the first time, you think you’ve made your best friend speechless. 

You crawl down to his legs, spreading them just enough to find space to kneel before him. Your hands find the base of his cock and he twitches at your touch. You look up to catch his expression. His lips are parted, his tattooed chest is pulsing up and down with each faltering breath, and his eyes are big with longing. Seeing him like this, so desperate for you, is so satisfying. And finally, fulfilling a want for you both, you lick a long, firm stripe up the shaft of his beautiful cock before you take him fully into your mouth. It wasn’t your first time taking a man in your mouth, but you wanted to make damn sure it was the best blow job you’ve ever given. You take him in as deep as possible and the head of his cock reaches the back of your throat. He curses, groans, and moans as you work on him, loving the taste he leaves on your tongue.

“Fuck, sweetheart!” Eddie moans, placing a hand at your head.

“Mmm?” You focus on the head of him, swirling your tongue at his foreskin while taking shallow, quick sucks that nearly sends the sensitive over the edge. 

“Jesus fucking christ, baby!” He cries out. “Don’t wanna come this way!” 

You stop at his plea and look at him in a daze. Your lips are swollen and glossy from sucking him off. He sits up and crawls towards you. He wraps his arms around your waist and tosses you on the bed.

“Didn’t know you could do that with your mouth,” he whispers as he presses his body on top of you. He glides a thumb to your silky, swollen lips until he’s pressing it inside for you to suck. 

You grab his ass and kiss him before taunting him, “I’m just full of surprises.”

“You’re about to be full of something that’s for sure,” he promises with a smile. 

It is your favorite of all his smiles, the one that says: Hell yeah I’m up to something and you’re gonna like it.

It turns down into a slight frown as he brings his fingers to the elastic of your pajama shorts. 

“Seems unfair that I’m the only one here as naked as the day I was born,” he sighs, pulling off your shorts and your panties in one swift movement. 

He kisses your inner thigh and his breath starts to dance along your skin. He gives you a smirk and brings his face close to your center. The calluses on his hands explore every inch of your legs, squeezing your thighs with the same precision and care as he holds his guitar. 

“Your turn now.” His words come out low and husky from the back of his throat. The growl that comes with it vibrates against your pussy lips. The way you arch towards him and let out a primal moan is instinctual. “Mmm, you’re soaked for me already—I’ve got to taste you.”

His tongue laps deep at your center and he begins to devour you. He takes his time, savoring your taste in every fold. He moans into you, holding your thighs firmly over his shoulders as worships your pussy like it’s the best meal that he’s ever had. You squirm, shake, and praise his name, over and over, louder and louder. You don’t care if the whole trailer park hears. 

You’re gasping when he takes his mouth of you. It’s your turn to be desperate. You need him to keep his mouth on you. You need him to keep his hands all over you. 

“You taste even better than I imagined,” he murmurs, pressing firm fingers on your wet folds. 

His words make you sit up, your chest heaving as you will him to look at you. 

“You—you’ve imagined this?” You let out a sigh of ecstasy. 

“Well yeah,” he acknowledges in between kisses on to your thigh and pussy, “only all the fucking time.” 

Before you can react to your best friend’s confession, his tongue is on you again. This time he takes care of your clit with his tongue swirling, flicking, and sucking until you devolve into a panting, crying mess. Your body quivering with the amount of orgasms he’s already given you and you wouldn’t be able to tell even if anyone asks.

This can’t get any better, your brain screams. 

But you’re so, very wrong. The way he pushes a finger, then two while continuing to worship your clit is more than enough to silence that thought. And you’re nearly crying, for real this time. It’s not just a loud, primal, passionate cry, but a real one. He’s so good there are actual tears escaping from the corners of your eyes. 

“Oh my…ahh…Eddie!!!” He knows you're close again, so he curls his fingers inside of you in a come hither gesture while still reveling in the taste of your lips and your clit. 

It’s almost too much! You gasp, cry, whine, and scream until you come undone all over his face and fingers. 

“Good girl,” he says as he kisses up your body while you shake beneath him. 

You taste yourself on him as he kisses you. Your hands wrap around him again and you take a gentle twirl of his curls in your fingers. He pushes himself up and you stare at each other for a few moments, speaking so many things without even saying a single word. You turn your eyes to the night stand and he understands you perfectly. He pulls a condom from the drawer, rips it open, and slides it over his throbbing member. Part of you wishes you could just feel *him* but you couldn’t take any chances—not this time anyway. 

The thought is long gone when he lines himself up at your opening. He pushes in through your wet folds and sheaths himself slowly letting you adjust to the size of him. You know your eyes are wide open and your mouth drops open with a gasp as he pushes all the way inside you. It feels so good, like it’s where he belongs. His breaths are deep and he starts to move. Your pussy quivers and squeezes his cock as he moves in an in and out rhythm that comes so naturally to him, making a song with the way he’s fucking you. 

“You’re so tight, sweetheart,” he manages to say between deep, gravelly moans.

He pushes your left knee up to your chest with his arm. Your breaths become desperate in unity, sweating and shaking together. Neither of you are going to last very long. His thrusts grow faster and harder like the crescendo he plays when he’s really shredding on his best guitar solos. 

“Fuck, oh FUCK.” His groans. “Baby!”

“Eddie!” 

You cry out your words at the same time. 

“Eyes.” Eddie orders and you nod, keeping your eyes on him as you both abandon yourself to each other, losing control, coming undone…together. 

He collapses on you and you muster enough strength to kiss him, caressing his face before he unsheaths himself from your warm, throbbing pussy. He pulls off his cum filled condom and throws it aside somewhere in your bedroom. 

“I’ll clean that up later.” He promises,  sensing your annoyance at the action and then he pulls you towards him. “Come here.” 

It’s not hard to comply. You lay together in silence and bliss. You use the time to trace his tattoos with your fingers while he caresses your shoulder. You cuddle into him, reveling in his post-coital touch..

“That was amazing,” you murmur with a sigh. 

“Baby, that’s an understatement.”

In that moment, it feels like he’s inhaling and exhaling with you and letting go in a way he rarely ever allows himself. His body isn’t tense and his excitable, frenetic energy has left the room. 

“Can we stay like this awhile?” he voices with earnesty.

“You can stay all night, if you want,” you tell him softly. “My mom is working the night shift.”

A familiar, playful smirk emerges on his face as he presses his body back onto yours, tangling your legs together. He plants a gentle  kiss to your forehead, your nose, and finally your lips.

“So, is there free breakfast here?”

[peachyparkerr]

see you soon | patrick zweig x reader

fwb!bsf!patrick zweig x reader 𓇢𓆸

notes: angst, allusions to nsfw (but not smut), but still some fluff cuz i love pat and ik he needs love, best friends to lovers once again, they're in their like 20s cuz i am in my 20s, beatopia!

inspired by the song “see you soon” by beabadoobee, i recommend listening to get the vibes!

𓇢𓆸

patrick, on the outside, was not a "feelings" guy. his parents were the type of rich people that were all about appearances, doing whatever they could to stay rich, too busy for anything that didn't have to do with that. they weren't bad people, just not the greatest parents. so when he could've used their admiration or encouragement or warmth, all that was there was tennis. he gave everything he had into tennis because that's the only thing he could do, and he was good at it. good at tennis, and good at hiding behind confidence in his looks and his skills on and off the court. maybe he wasn't a good guy, he didn't know how to be, but at least he had that.

but that led him to the mark rebellato tennis academy. and that led him to you. you, that was just as good, honestly probably better, at tennis than him. you were a lot like him, confident and skilled, but you were kind. smart. funny. beautiful. it was all those things that made him want you, but you saw right through him. and that's why you took it upon yourself to befriend him rather than make an enemy out of him or hook up with him.

"I need a new hitting partner. can't do that if we're not friends, and we can't be friends if we are hooking up." sixteen year old you said, shooting him down calm, collected, and casually when he shameless flirted with you, again, at yet another party. but you hadn't proposed this idea before and sure he was cute, and you'd heard the stories of what he was like in bed, but you weren't looking for that with him. at least not at that point.

"you can't be serious, angel." seventeen year old patrick huffed out a small laugh of disbelief, the nickname falling so easily from his lips and had stuck every since then. he had no idea where it came from, except that it was what you looked like in his eyes. he didn't want to be just your friend but he couldn't say that he wasn't intrigued by having any part of you at all.

"don't make me ask that blonde friend of yours. come on, zweig, it's a win-win. " you looked up at him with a tilt of your head, smiling, the light hitting your eyes just right. he took one look into them, and at your glossy lips, and he knew it didn't even matter whatever it was you were saying at this point about in which way he was winning. patrick decided then he'd do anything for you if it meant you'd smile at him like that.

"okay, deal." he smirked, offering to walk you back to your room. friendship quickly bloomed between the kid versions of you two, even if he couldn't help how pretty he thought you looked.

over the years you guys got older and remained close, starting off as hitting partners when he wasn't with art, but the way he lingered in your spaces always teetered on the edge of something that wasn't just friendly. especially while you were in college. a palm that just barely touched your lower back to guide you through parties he attended with you. an arm around your shoulders as you sat on the same side of the booth. a hand on your knee to stop you from bouncing it. phone and video calls that seemed to stretch longer than expected into the night when he was away on tour.

those calls were really the beginning of you noticing that there was something going on with him. you couldn't quite put your finger on it, but you could tell he was off. the way his smile wasn't as wide as it usual was on the screen when you'd asked if he was seeing anyone new on tour. how his eyes were somehow not the deep blue that you knew them to be.

"you okay, pat?" you asked on your end of the call, looking and talking at him with genuine care and concern.

"i’m fine, angel. just.." miss you is what he wanted to say. but he didn't know how to open himself up like that. "tired." he lied instead. you had known him long enough at this point that that it was more than that but you didn't push either. you knew that wasn't how he worked, and he knew you knew all of these things too. but maybe if you had pushed then it wouldn't be what it became.

"okay. well i'll let you get your rest and i'll see you soon." you promised with a real, wide smile that always made him melt before hanging up. he should've told you then that the real reason he had been calling so much, refusing to let you off the phone at a reasonable time, wasn't just because he missed you but that he loved you. but he let you hang up and pretended everything was fine.

everything was fine. tours came and went, your college days coming to a close. he claimed to be on the top of his tennis game, especially with you finding time in your busy life to come cheer him on. until yet another girl broke up with him. he didn't blame them, he never did. they were all distractions from what he really wanted but told himself he couldn't have.

most of the time these breakups were sweat off his back. none of them would ever be you. lots of girls wanted to date him, but when they saw the real him they knew they didn't want to marry him or have anything to do with him. he was never real to them, only ever with you, but god this time it was reaching a breaking point. he wanted something real. something to call his and only his, and he wanted it with you. he shut his phone off amidst his spiral to wallow.

that was his first mistake. his second mistake was forgetting his plans with you. it wasn't like him to just forget and not answer his phone. so you, being the kind person you are, came to his apartment. you could hear the tv on the other side of the door. you knocked and he didn't answer even though you knew he was in there. so you let yourself in with the spare key you knew was under the mat. you find him on the couch, staring into the ceiling. he'd barely realized you were there until you were sitting right next to him.

he's telling you to leave and won't meet your eyes because he doesn't know how he's going to control himself right now around you. how he's going to not just blurt out that he loves you and pull you into his arms and never let you go because god is he just itching to be worthy of your love. but then you're grabbing his chin to force him to look at you. your eyes are studying his face trying to figure out what's wrong. not because you're nosy, but because you care. because you always have. because you know him.

when he meets your eyes, your expression turns soft, but you don't look away. you push some curls out of his face and let your hand linger there as a silent way of saying to him that he can tell you, whatever it is.

suddenly he's kissing you. he's kissing you and you're letting him.

there was no going back after that. not when he's kissing your neck and you're taking off his shirt. not when he's leading you to his room and effortlessly laying you down on his bed like he's wanted to do ever since he's met you. no words are exchanged in the quiet of his apartment, just looks between the two of you before each move to confirm if something's okay. the moonlight cascading over you with every brush of his lips against your skin.

you had thought of this moment before but you never thought this is how it would happen. not when you knew something was wrong and he wouldn't say what it is was. you should've stopped it, pushed him to act like a regular person, but you were selfish too. you couldn't admit it out loud that you loved him, and it was that fact that made you stay. you would do anything if it meant he would feel better.

his usual rough hands held you softly, like you were something special, fragile. he took his time in the silence, each touch, each kiss, each whisper of your name falling from his mouth was tender--like he was worshipping you. you being there, with him, like this, was what made him feel better. made him feel whole for the first time in his life.

after, you two just layed there. he cleaned you up, wrapped you up in his clothes and held you close. he didn't acknowledge what just happened and neither did you. you stayed over, sleeping in his arms like it was just any other ordinary occurrence. in the morning, you slipped out before he woke up, leaving a note that you hope he felt better and that you'd see him soon. if he didn't want to talk about this then that would just be the way it was because that was patrick and even if you had no regrets, you didn't want to lose him by pushing.

if it was just that one time then maybe you could've continued to pretend everything was fine. you knew patrick. you knew that he didn't do relationships, and you weren't about to assume that is what he wanted with you despite how much that night confirmed for you that your heart beat for him. but it wasn't just that one night.

patrick fucked up. he knew he should've said how he really felt before kissing you, before going any further than that, but he just thought that actions could speak for him. it just felt so good to finally have you. to feel the affection he had for you returned. but he was a fool and it wasn't just that one time.

he let it go unacknowledged. he kept his revolving door of girls open, and kept you as his best friend. he knew in his heart that there was no way he could get you out of his system now, so he would keep drowning in other people, other things, to distract himself. you would pretend to be fine, but the second someone else looked your way, there he was. bulldozing into your spaces like he belonged there, taking you for himself.

so you two entered into this ill fated ending dance of friends with benefits. if one of you called, there was the other one answering. it was supposed to be a walk in the park, easy, but the lines got more blurry and you were so confused. you'd heard stories of how he could be rude, cocky, rushing, reckless without even meaning to with his partners. but with you, he was always soft and patient and intentional, in the light and in the darkness, making sure you felt him in every part of you in every way.

he looked at you a little too long behind closed doors and that bled into the fabric of real life. sometimes you'd catch him, but he'd just smile, brushing it off with a kiss to your cheek. the palm that used to barely rest on your lower back through crowds, rested on your waist, firm, known. his jacket finding its way to be wrapped around you in the late nights sitting on your roof talking like nothing changed. he wouldn't let there be any distance between you on the same side of the booth, and the hand that would stop your knee from bouncing now burned where it would press down on your upper thigh.

"angel" would slip into "baby" and he didn't notice. he didn't notice most of these changes except that they felt right to him. he would crack jokes to fill the silences as he pressed you into his mattress again and again, mostly to make you feel like it wasn't awkward, that he wanted you to be comfortable, but also to hear your laugh again and again since it had always been his favorite song. if only he had the courage to speak with his words and not assume that things were good the way that were.

they weren't though and it was now your turn to realize that you couldn't go on like this. you couldn't pretend that you were okay with wondering if outings were now dates since he always paid and told you you were the prettiest thing he'd ever seen or if the way you could hear his heart beating faster than ever when you rested your head on his bare chest after pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw meant you were still just friends.

it was hard to pretend that you weren't all consumed by him. that you could just take what he gave you and not feel like you were deteriorating from the inside out at the fact that you weren't really his, and he wasn't really yours.

"i think i should go, pat." you said one night, untangling yourself from him, holding the sheet to cover your bare chest as you got up from the bed. if you didn't go now, you were sure you'd never.

"what? why?" he sat up on his side of his bed, confused, but mostly hurt. this couldn't be it. he needed you more than ever. he was in too deep.

"i just...i need space. to really think, about some stuff." you couldn't look at him as you got dressed. you felt light headed, and you needed to get out of there before you got wrapped back up in everything.

"we can talk about it. just come back to bed, baby." he slipped on his boxers that were on the floor and started to follow you to the door.

"i'll be okay. i just can't be here." you had your back turned to him with a hand on the door handle. but he lingered there behind you.

"how do i fix this?" he asked, terrified that this would be the last time he saw you.

"pat." you shakily breathed out, warning him not to push you if he wasn't going to say what he knew you needed to hear.

"angel. i can't lose you. not like this." his voice wavered as he reached a hand out to stop you. "you know how I feel about you."

"do i?" you questioned still facing the door. the hand on your shoulder feeling more like a weight than a comfort.

he says nothing. words failing him even if he knows it would be the only thing that could get you to stay right now.

you shrug his hand off in the silence, opening the door anyway.

"i'll see you soon. promise." you mean it, even if you leave without sparing him another glance.

he stands there after you leave. his apartment not the only thing feeling empty. how did he let it get this far? you'd given him the affection he needed so badly, and he doted on you like it was the air in his lungs, but didn't you know it was real? that it meant everything?

he lets you have your space for a few days before it sinks in that he can't live without you. he needed you to know that he didn't want to pretend that this wasn't real. you weren't just another notch on his bed post like everyone else, because they were only there because he thought you couldn't be. he wanted you, and he wanted you to want him too.

so when it had been radio silence on your end for two weeks, he begged and begged to see you. promising you he was ready to talk if you were. he understood why you took the space, but god was it killing him. he meets you at the beach, finding you sitting on a blanket watching the waves. he takes a cautious seat next to you, pretending that the purposeful space he leaves between you isn't terrifying.

"i can't pretend anymore." you said facing the ocean, your voice was like the tide—rising slow and steady, waves crashing calmly against the shore.

"i don't want you to." he responded, eyes watching you intently, his hand that rests in the space between you itching to hold yours.

"is any of it real? or is it all in my head?" you questioned, looking at him nervously. but his gaze remained, unwavering.

"everything is real. it always has been, always will be." the words fall easily from patrick for the first time in his life. he grabbed your hand, and when you didn't pull it back, he placed it on his chest over his heart so you could feel that it was beating faster than you've ever felt. he wanted you to know that it was for you, that everything was and is for you. "i love you. i'm sorry if i ever let you think i didn't. but i do, and i'm done pretending that you're not the realest thing in my life. "

his admission was more vulnerable than you'd expect from him. he was never good at words or feelings, you'd never force that on him, but you always wanted him to try. yet here he was, putting his heart out on the line, and you believe him despite the part of you that was screaming at you to run away again.

"i love you too." you say back to him. no one's ever said that to him, but he's sure that he never wants to hear it from anyone else but you. he smiles and you do too. he shifts closer, closing the distance between you on the blanket, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you guys watch the waves.

and he kisses you, soft and slow. except this time, it means something. it's real.

𓇢𓆸

tagging some of my mutuals because their content keeps me going everyday! i hope i did a good job and challengers for life <3 @diyasgarden @222col @jordiemeow @itsrensfairygardenn

[sapphiccup]

Quick quick snack!!

Pairing: Sevika x reader in a tight dress

MDNI!!!!! MEN DNI!!!!! light Nsfw ahead!

Sevika has been staring at you all day. You bought a new dress and its tight on you, showing every curve of your body. The fact that you yourself are a ten, your voice makes her shudder and shake with arousal, and everything in between just does it for her. Yet, this dress is new. You usually wear jeans around the house, or some shorts. But this dress, good god. When you’d pass her in the kitchen you’d make sure your ass dragged against her crotch, acting like you just needed to get something from the cabinet real quick, then you’d do it again. Sevika was biting the bottom of her lip every time you swipe your fat ass on her. You did it a third time, and she stopped you, hand on waist and the other resting on her side.

“You doin’ this on purpose sweetie?” She asked you, her voice was so deep, vibrating against your back, making you all hot and bothered.

“I dunno what you mean, I just need to get-“

She leaned in real close, giving you a groan in your ear, and it sent currents of waves down your back, making you stand up straight, backing into her some more. You could feel how warm she was getting and it was such a turn on.

“You’re such a liar” she growled lowly in your ear, resting her head in the corner of your neck. You could feel her breath on your skin, goosebumps making their announcement for her, and standing ovations from your lower lips.

“Can I touch you?” She’d ask, sounding pathetic, whiney about wanting to touch you. You loved it. Giving her a nod, she’d slide her free hand to the curve of your ass, rubbing it with a bit of roughness, making it move just the way she likes it. You could feel her grunting against her neck, as she took a couple of big squeezes of your supple cheek.

“Veevee, is that all you want to touch?” You asked in a sultry tone, making her brain short circuit for a second, making her stop her lustrous rubs.

“Is it weird that I’m getting off by just doing this?”

“Hm, no but..” you trailed off, bending a bit over to the counter across from you, posing for her as your sweet nectar dripped down your leg. Sevika’s breath got caught in her lungs just from the sight.

“I need more baby..” you confessed, your breath was unsteady, spreading your legs a bit more waiting for her to just dive in, with whatever way she’d want to dive in.

“Come fuck me.. I won’t bite— probably..”

[perfectqueenfan]

You were just a normal girl, but then your belly grew into full term in minutes and now you’re giving birth and struggling to get your pants off.

Today was my day off and I had finally returned home from hanging out with my friends. As I set my stuff down, I decided to do some simple chores to at least make myself feel like i've been productive today. Whilst doing laundry, my stomach began to hurt a bit, my jeans feeling like they were pressing into me. I probably just ate too much earlier I thought to myself as I skimmed my hand across my belly.

A few minutes later, whilst doing dishes I felt like my pants had grown impossibly tighter. Setting a plate down I undid the button on my jeans in hopes of reliving some of the pressure. As I reached out to grab another bowl I felt a sudden tightness in my stomach and skin, looking down I watched as my stomach began to swell and round out in front of me. I gasped in shock and quickly dropped the bowl in favor of placing both hands on my stomach, trying to stop whatever was happening.

Next thing I knew I was standing there panting, looking extremely pregnant, probably overdue if I knew any better. "What the fuck? What is happening to me?!" I gasp out. Just as I took my first step away from the counter, I felt a sharp pain and what felt like a deep pop from within. I looked down to see that my water had broken as a stabbing pain shot through my whole body.

"No no no no, this can't be happeninggggg-" I groan out as a contraction hits, a heavy weight beginning to press into my pelvis and settle in my hips. I knew from my health classes that I was very much in labor and that whatever this was was coming now. As best as I could, I waddled into my living room, barely reaching the back of the couch before I felt the first urge to push. Scared, I listened to my body and bore down, feeling the head quickly shoot down to rest right behind my opening. I shuddered at the feeling, barely recovering before the urge returned. As I pushed I could feel the head begin to stretch me open, and that's when I realized that I was still wearing my jeans and underwear. Now I was trying to stall pushing this baby out of me while getting my tight jeans off my body.

When I bent down a bit to try and get the pants past my knees, I felt the head move forward again, crying out in pain as I stretched to accommodate the massive head. I quickly moved my hand to my underwear, feeling the head nearly crowing. I moaned at the pressure as I managed get my pants off before I bore down, the head crowing and popping out into my underwear with a gush of amniotic fluid. I whimpered out as I felt the head in my hand, and the burning pressure from the shoulders. With one final push I managed to get the rest of the baby out of me with a scream.

Staring down at the baby in my hands, I looked at it and myself in horror as it cried and I felt another cramp of pressure press against my birth canal.

[secretgardensinmymindd13]

i actually think buck realized he was in love with eddie after eddie was shot, he just didn’t know at the time that that feeling of “i can’t imagine my life without him in it” was the same as being in love with a woman, ‘cause he didn’t have the framework to recognize it (and honestly, i don’t think he ever experienced that deep level of love with anyone before - none of his other relationships ever reached the point that his and eddie’s did)

so, again, it was complicated to figure out because he wasn’t in touch with his bisexuality at the time

as a bisexual, i can say from experience the wonders heteronormativity can do to a brain

when you grow up learning that you’re supposed to feel a certain way only toward the opposite sex, your brain brushes off everything that doesn’t fit that image. it shuts it down and defines it as something else. like, “yeah, i check out a hot guy’s/girl’s ass sometimes, but that doesn’t mean anything, everyone’s attracted to beautiful bodies, that’s normal. yeah, i wanna spend all my free time with my best friend, and i love touching them, and i love everything they love, and i really need them in my life until the day i die, and my heart bursts with joy every time we’re together, and they’re the hottest, most beautiful person i’ve ever seen… but that doesn’t mean anything” it’s like your brain just doesn’t compute it. it’s like a glitch in the system that it ignores because it can’t make sense of it. “and my best friend is straight anyway, so what i’m feeling is definitely not romantic. it can’t be. i’m not “hopelessly pining” for my friend” (which translates to: “yes, i am, but it’s too painful to admit it to myself, so i’m gonna push it away”)

and that’s why it’s so funny to me that in s7, buck was so jealous when eddie formed a bond with tommy

he knew damn well he was jealous of eddie, but when tommy kissed him, he redirected those feelings onto tommy instead

he was like, “okay, whatever, i’ll deal with my jealousy for eddie later, or hopefully never. at least there’s this hot guy who actually wants me, so i’m gonna lean into it because it’s easier and safer than thinking too much about my feelings for eddie”

(also, that “i am free” line 😭 i was so happy for him 🩷💜💙)

i also think eddie fell in love with buck when buck introduced him to carla

yes, that early. the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach child, after all

in that moment, he saw how much buck truly cared about him and his kid, even though they had just met. but as soon as he felt that spark in his chest, he put it out. locked it away with all his other unresolved, suppressed feelings, because he’s a master at it

except that fire never went away. it reignited every time buck was close to him. and the more time they spent together, the bigger it became. but eddie could deal with that, he’d suppressed worse

the barrier broke, though, when he talked to the hot priest about joy and when he realized he might lose buck forever if he moved to el paso

and when buck did the ultimate act of selfless love by renting his apartment, something in eddie unlocked. “you would do that for me?” (he would do everything for me. and i leave him. i leave the best thing that’s ever happened to me. i leave something real, something special, something i’ve never had before… all because of my stupid parents and their chokehold on my life. i don’t think i can keep running away from it anymore. this is too precious to lose. i don’t care if i’m broken and don’t deserve it. i don’t care if i’m wrong, if it’s wrong. i just can’t lose it)

eddie will break down and snap in texas at some point, and he will decide to break free - once and for all, in every sense (eddie’s gay realization arc is so here)

i also think maybe christopher might be the one to help him get to that point, give him the courage to do it

and eddie will be the first to confess his love and he’ll probably be the first to kiss buck

i literally see it in my mind (let’s fulfill the prophecy)

[stupidlittlespirit]

Ford who is jsut obsessed with kissing his s/o. takes every opportunity, kissing them good morning, good night, as a thank you, as a you're welcome, when he's bored, etc etc. he's just in love with how it feels to press ur lips together. kissing as long as you'll let him, extending the same kiss as long as you can hold your breath. boys got an oral fixation as deep as the ocean truly. hes probably nervous about other people seeing him so affectionate too so he tries to keep it private but sometimes he'll do it anyways and laugh about the way his family overreact with fake disgust. EWWW OLD PEOPLE KISSING. I say family because you'd think its just the kids but Stanley sees them do it and thinks it's so funny that he joins in.

GAWD I am pulling my hair out over this.

He's definitely shy about it in public, but the idea of him slipping up and forgetting himself?? Like, he suddenly becomes so overwhelmed with the urge that it slips his mind that he's supposed to be private with that sort of thing and he just leans down to give you a little kiss.......

And it takes you by surprise because he just doesn't really do that. Like, ever. He's a very private person. He gets embarrassed about public displays of affection, and you've just sort of accepted that the most he's cool with is holding hands or receiving a kiss on the cheek. You've never tried to ask for more because you'd hate to make him feel weird.

So then when you're hanging out with him in the yard one evening, laughing and shooting the shit as the sun goes down behind the treeline, he suddenly goes quiet. You look up to him to see if there's something wrong, worried by his sudden silence but you find that he's just sort of.... watching you. Very intensely.

You ask him if he's alright and he doesn't respond for a moment. You're about to ask him again, your anxiety starting to take over, when he just leans down and kisses you. It's chaste and soft, but full of feeling, and it stuns you enough that your brain shorts out for a moment.

He pulls away a little, all flushed and flustered despite it being his idea, but you catch him before he can back off entirely. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back, murmuring against his mouth 'what was that for?' and Ford laughs quietly. He shrugs underneath your touch and says 'I'm sorry, you just look so perfect in this light, I couldn't help myself'. And then he stumbles through an embarrassed explanation that you always look lovely, he didn't mean to imply you didn't, he just-

But you kiss him again before he can finish his nervous excuse. The one you give him is a little more indulgent. Not lewd, but lingering. Filled with just as much feeling as the original but with some added hints of subtle intention. And Ford returns it with ardour because, hey, he forgot himself once, he doesn't mind doing it again if it means keeping this moment in mind forever.

And of course, you're interrupted by the kids' chorus of 'ewwwww gross sTOP!'. They've abandoned whatever game they were playing in the backyard to point the finger of childish shame at you both, and Stan does it too as he passes by to get another beer out of the cooler. He throws a disgruntled 'ugh get a room' at you, but he's smiling to himself anyway, even when you flip him the (good natured) bird behind Ford's back.

[quibbs126]

Olay, random Armada thoughts, just about starting Episode 4

Something that’s personally irking me is that it feels like everyone takes slightly too long to react to things, and also the movement is incredibly limited. Like I feel like g1 had better animation and timing. But this is also an early 2000s anime, presumably not one with the highest budget, and it also has very detailed and complicated robot characters that they need to draw, so like, I can understand why it’s the way it is. And also why they switched to 3D Models in later series, even if I love how the bots look in Armada

Another note, do the Minicons just not talk? Like they only use beeps and other computer noises? That’s kind of lame, I wanted to hear them talk

But moving on from that, the Decepticons. Straight up, it is just a dad and his unruly kids, and I barely feel like I’m exaggerating. Like I don’t think I’m looking too deep here. In that first clash with the Autobots, when the Decepticons were on the losing end, Demolisher and Starscream straight up went to Megatron and said “Megatron, help us!”, and the two later got into a fight over who’d be Megatron’s second in command, which Megatron had to break up and then Starscream blamed Demolisher for starting. Also he calls them “boys” one time when calling them to action, like “come on, boys!” or something like that. I don’t have all the moments and I don’t know if I’m explaining it well, but this is how they feel to me

Also I found this shot funny, Leader-1 just sitting on Megatron’s lap

I don’t really have much to say on the Autobot side, I haven’t really seen anything I find notable yet, other than again, Red Alert has the voice of Ronin from Ninjago, almost identically

But I do like how the Minicons turn into the kids’ vehicles (aka a bike, skateboard and a scooter), I find it neat, and probably fitting that bots so small turn into that small of vehicles, doesn’t take much thought to understand. Though it does also tell me that bike Transformers would probably make more sense to be closer to Minicon size than a normal sized bot, but whatever

Also I’ll admit their kibble isn’t the best, but eh, I kind of like it

And then just one other thing, I went to look up the bully characters because I wanted to know if they were going to be part of the main group, what with them having so much screen time, and I found this

What does this mean? What does Fred do that’s so vital? Or was the writer of his page just like, really biased towards Fred?

Don’t tell me, I want to find out on my own, but it’s so strange, I have to know what this is about

I think that’s about it for now, just random thoughts

[hancfubuki]

caleb takes a moment to admire rafayel's figure standing on top of him. the warmth of his palms laying softly on his chest and finally taking a glance at that vulnerability that has been confusing him for so long. ethereal and unreal. he couldn't help but catching the glimpse of red dust spreading through his cheeks, feeling the same burning sensation all over his own face.

he doesn't find himself pleading often, only in certain situations with certain people, and for some reason, the need to plea and serve appears naturally at the sight of rafayel. perhaps it was the intimacy they shared the day before, but he feels something beyond that, a yearning to connect, to synchronize his mind and body to him, and of course, the fierce curiosity and burning passion that suddenly start aching deep within his heart. again, it feels like he's bewitched not only by his beauty, but by the mystery that surrounds him. everything and anything about the young lemurian is alluring to caleb, from the mere moment in which he stepped and acted all tough, snapped him n a half even. he must be crazy. shifting into that desire, and probably it came along with the idea of being overpowered.

there's no response for rafayel, and caleb starts thinking he started pushing his limits again, wondering if his actions would get him mad. is he going to throw him again against the wall or is he this time going to devour him? whatever it is, caleb is expectant to his movements. the touch in his waist becoming tighter with every passing second, waiting patiently for rafayel to say something and calculating carefully his next moves. as he is straddled, he realizes that perhaps rafayel already understood that his words were softer than his actions, and that he demonstrate interest in a physical manner, in a gentle touch, one that he understands rafayel also pretty much needs. caleb is unsure if the other is simply ashamed, nervous or unaware what to do. he did mention eloping with another human before, but he wonders how many years ago that was, curiously wondering if rafayel ever took initiative as he pretty much appeared like a pristine maiden. well, that actually adds more fuel to the fire. or maybe it was simply the wet tongue against his palm the one that causes his heart to beat faster inside his chest, almost wanting to escape from its place.

his hand is yank away, and before he could ever retort some playful words, he feels rafayel's soft lips against his once more. but just that, only lips, followed by such an impatient and whimpery tone coming from the lemurian. this causes a shift in caleb, his eyes moving from their puppy like phase, closing a bit, conveying a sense of seduction and intensity, a gaze he has not shown before until now.

"good boy." he whispers softly, fingers tracing softly his bare skin, threading below his silky and fancy pajamas as the possessive grip just grow stronger. "mine, then." without hesitation this time, as he finally gets permission, he takes a hold of rafayel's face again only to aggressively bring him closer. his own little way to keep him in place. lips hungry, with a desperate urgency as both of his hands return back in place to his waist, gripping him tightly as if afraid the man might vanish if he lets go. the kiss steals the air from his lings, or whatever he is breathing in here. whatever it is, his movements are not soft, instead claiming the god's lips with unrelenting passion, demanding and raw, starving.

hands roam on rafayel's back, on his waist, pulling him impossibly closer until there isn't a sliver of space left between them. caleb tilts his head, deepening the kiss as his tongue brushes against rafayel's lips in a plea for more. he nibbles, as one of his hand slides up to cradle the back of the lemurian's neck. his tongue, tired of seeking, finds its entry, delving into the heat of his mouth with the same fierce hunger as before, deepening the kiss further. his movements are unrestrained, a dance of desperation and longing as he explores every inch, pouring his emotions into each stroke and caress. caleb groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against rafayel's lips as he pulls him tighter, anchoring himself in this moment until both of them are out of breath.

caleb stops, gasping for air. his lips swollen, face flushed, and his pupils, oh... completely blown with longing. "i can't stop." he whispers hoarsely, his hands trembling as they frame rafayel's face this time. "what did you do to me, little seashell?" and he dives back in, the kiss now even deeper, leaning his body only to grab rafayel and push him instead towards the mattress. there's moaning dying in his throat, completely muffled as he positions himself on top of rafayel, pushing his leg with his own, opening space for him as he softly grips on wrists. he knows he should be more delicate, but the kiss is now even deeper, more consuming—a collision of need and devotion that leaves no room for doubt or resistance.

"What if I want to pin you down, differently?"

There is a sudden shift in the air between them, Rafayel pauses as his gaze lingers down at the other's torso, where he continues to look at the scars that disappear before his eyes. Human beings were weak, and to Rafayel, who was stronger than even the average Lemurian, Caleb felt like a tender child. Hold back his strength, soften his already gentle touch, brush fingers ever so lightly so he doesn't dig a hole through his flesh. When he watches him heal with inhuman speed, maybe faster than even his own, however, he wonders if he needn't be so gentle. The sight of his gift, gravity; defying all logic of the ocean's waters that had pushed him off tells him he could come to see him as something equal- a part of him wants that to be true. Yet, there is a part of his heart that tells him to continue his gentle strokes, there was never a time when he needed to display power to step over enemies, and neither did he wish to do so to this man.

The tension, the spark as he lifts his eyes to meet the other's, cosmic stars dancing in the endless darkness of space. Rafayel nearly smirks at the desire plainly written in them, showing him the way like constellations in the sky.

It wasn't quite as intentional as it seems. Along the way, as he shared warmth and comfort, the connection of familiarity and understanding, he had started to desire a bit more. If anyone would spend an eternity with him, if he could find someone who could understand him and become his partner, awaking him each time he fell into a deep slumber as his death trapped him in that dark cave; he dreamed that it would be the sun that blinded him as he sliced through the ocean's grasp, shining through his eyelids with its beautiful orange and yellows, warning his skin and show him the beautiful pink shade unknown to him in his motherland. The young Lemurian had sensed the attraction growing in himself, let himself drown in it for the short, fleeting moment of peace, and had unintentionally started acting coy, showing parts of him he never shared before in hopes that the other would accept these childish demands, see his power and not cower, that he wouldn't be pushed away. Love? He didn't know what love meant sincerely, didn't truly trust in its existence, but maybe he would be proven wrong.

"Different, how?"

Relaxed, poised despite being under the other's hungry gaze. If anything, he feels emboldened. But the moment he hears his command, come close he says, and a shaky breath escapes him- the faintest hint and only hint he gives to show how his nerves spark. His back straightens, not in fear but interest, slinking forward a step, and his hand brushes against the captain's arm as if he needs support, skin contact, eyes shining as he starts fraying at the edges because he wants... he wants the touch a bit more than he dares to admit.

He lets Caleb grab his waist, doesn't flinch when he maneuvers him around, and leads him back, pulling his body against him, falling forward and down onto the plush cushion of his bed. The Lemurian complies, eyes never breaking their hold on the other's as he lets his footsteps soften, only giving a gasp when he's pulled in close to his body, toppling over him and his hair just barely curtains over his red ears, heat thrumming through him as blood pumps through his head, a daze as he places both hands on his chest to support himself as he sits up. Caleb gives eyes of a wronged little creature, wide and glistening, pulling him in and begging for more- yet waiting, giving him control. Rafayel makes a pretty sight of himself, lips slightly parted and a pink tongue darting out to lick his lower lip as he gazes down at the man's own, reminded of the gentle touch the day before. What does he want from him? Another touch, more of his hands warming him for comfort, and he meekly nods when he asks, was he just as lonely? As touch-starved as him?

The hands on his waist glide over his skin and Rafayel shivers, goosebumps forming, breaths escalating and getting deeper, the flush on his ears getting darker with his pulse loud in his ears, his eyes starting to go in a daze. He should be terrified by his words, feel trapped by his possessive hands keeping him still as he had earlier, and let fear overtake him. But he feels so pleasant, he doesn't want to move and would have keened at the admission of wanting to keep him there if he weren't keeping a tight lid on his feelings, where he feels ignited and yet floating. Instead, he lets out a long shaky breath as he shifts his legs, straddling the man tighter in response. "I want..." his voice shakes, fingers curling where they rested on the other's chest, lashes lowering in visible nerves. You. Love. A partner who won't betray him or his heart. The warmth of another soul and a possessive touch, someone who would fight for him as much as he would for them. More.

Held posessively till he forgets, lips on him till he's satiated. Begged for.

A kiss to the inside of the hand covering his mouth, a shaky breath, and darkened eyes red as they look into his, tongue licking on his skin. He grabs his wrist and moves it away, a hand grabbing his face and diving forth to catch his lips. Caleb had given him his first, he gave it back in that same gentle manner, hesitant, only knowing how to press their lips together and stuttering a breath as he pulled. "Hurry," he whines, impatient and lost.

[stargirlintermission]

Ratchet in tfone

Ngl, his appearance kinda confuses me. We can see him as a miner in the background, but he also gets mentioned as "Doctor Ratchet" after the Iacon race. And as much as I screamed when it happened, having him as a doctor treating the racers (you know, bots with cogs) doesn't make sense to me if he is a cogless bot. Like, it's very plausible that Sentinel could be just exploting him that much, but seeing how divided the classes are, it would be weird to have a cogless doctor treating the high class. (Most of them would probably be against the idea of a dirty miner touching them.)

It could also be a Chromia situation and miner Ratchet is just a background character with his design instead of the character himself. And it's very likely that these appearances are just little cameos and the tfone team wasn't thinking too hard about it.

But you know who thinks hard about things that you probably shouldn't think too hard about? Me, so here is the headcanon I came up with to explain this:

There are two Ratchets. Technically. We have cogged doctor Ratchet and cogless miner Ratchet. The latter's name is actually just a nickname. In the mines you don't get to see a doctor unless you're missing a limb or are actively dying, so miner Ratchet took it upon himself to help his fellow miners with their injuries (as much a he could with the almost unexisting medical equipment at hand). Because of this, they started to call him "Ratchet", a cogged bot known for his expertise as a medic. Miner Ratchet really admired him, so he liked being called by his name, even though he claimed otherwise.

Then the movie happened and they both ended up with the autobots. There, miner Ratchet became doctor Ratchet's apprentice, and he was obviously thrilled to work with his idol. The doctor taught him everything he knew before dying during the war. And now we have one Ratchet, the doctor who was once a miner.

[diabeticgirl4]

So uhh. They didn't credit The Voice of Steve Carlsberg in the end? Surely that doesn't mean anything and they just simply forgot right......?

[ladyintree]

taissa looks away,   feigning nonchalance as she shrugs.    ❝ obviously,  ❞   she mumbles,   because she definitely doesn’t want to linger on anything about the cabin guy,   but she has to at least be grateful for what he’s given them in his absence—   because it’s not lost on her that they might not have survived without it.    ❝  okay,  yeah,  thanks for the reminder,  ❞    she mumbles sarcastically.

she starts to laugh as harper talks about the attic,   because she’s right,   it is how they slept.    it’s how she slept with shauna for the first few nights too,   and every night they needed to lean on each other,   but they gave themselves their own corners of the attic eventually.   it’s different with mikayla—   there was never any other way.   even if they were upset with each other before bed,   they wouldn’t have let themselves part.   it’s bigger than that,  too,  in ways harper and the others don’t really understand—   mikayla basically pinned her down in her sleep every night just so she wouldn’t miss it if taissa got up in her sleep,  ready to leave.    even if she hasn’t sleepwalked in months,  she can’t imagine not having the security of mikayla holding her tightly.   ❝  she’s better than a blanket,  ❞   she says with a grin.    ❝  really helps without clothes,  ❞     she adds,  immediately cutting herself off with a giggle,   only saying that to tease harper more.     she takes a deep breath,   hand pressing to her forehead as she thinks about shauna.    ❝  she’s going to be there whether she wants to be or not,   ❞    she claims.    ❝  i told you first because i trust you most.   ❞     she trusts shauna in a very specific way,   a way that others wouldn’t understand,  because they’ve been through things together that no one else knows,   but she doesn’t trust her with this.   ❝  and maybe i wanted to talk to someone about it who’d actually be happy for me,  ❞   she scoffs. 

she groans as harper starts teasing her about it.   if they were back home,   she’d still be defending herself,  still claiming that asher is some horrible person,  band she’d do whatever to prove it.   but here,  it feels ridiculous to hold onto,   even if the thought of him is still annoying.   ❝  okay,  shut up,  ❞     she scoffs.   ❝  am i wrong?    she was the hottest girl in our school and she was dating losers.  ❞    asher wasn’t a loser,   she knows that,   but she makes the claim anyway.   ❝  trust me,  that guy did not know how to handle a girl like her.   he’d probably start crying if she said something mean.   ❞    and tai,  however,  would be into it—   so she believes that gives her the upper hand anyway,   even if it’s irrelevant,   because mikayla would never actually want asher.    her eyes widen,  as if to warn her again,  but she laughs.    ❝  okay,  definitely do not mention handcuffs to mikayla—    she’ll get ideas,  ❞   she teases,  shaking her head.    ❝  so,  no.   no handcuffs.  ❞    she pauses before smirking and adding,   ❝  we’ve got plenty of rope, though.  ❞

her eyes narrow in on her and she nods her head slowly.    ❝  yeah,  okay.  good answer,  ❞   she teases.    she smirks as she checks her out,  resting her ax on her shoulder.   her eyes roll at the idea of shauna actually fighting someone at her wedding—    she’s definitely going to be careful about talking to her when it’s time to warn her.    ❝  maybe we just tie her hands together,  ❞    she suggests flatly,   letting out a scoff a moment later.   ❝  i guess she does love to bite, though.  ❞  

"kinky." she teases back. she blinks at her. "he...he left everything, taissa. he died." it feels stupid to say out loud, as if tai doesn't know that, but something about the way she says it strikes her. harper doesn't spend...any time thinking about dead cabin guy. he was there, they buried him, and they had other things to worry about. she gently touches the books they have around them, though, grateful for them and silently thanking dead cabin guy for being resourceful. they stormed into his home, got it burned down, and took all his stuff, like some fucked up goldilocks, but they might be alive now because of it. it feels wrong to just move on like that didn't happen, so she takes that second to herself to remember it. "a really fucking long time." she mumbles. she doesn't actually know anything about decay, but from what they saw was left, she knows time had passed. she laughs again "oh real cozy. all that space, but you had to be against each other." obviously. harper bites her lip because she has absolutely no idea what shauna needs right now. "i don't blame you, but... your wedding." shrugging. she can't imagine tai not wanting shauna there.

she tries, but she can't stop herself from laughing. "oh, so you're a jealous freak, too." it isn't just mikayla who is possessive, but tai was out here hating on her ex just for existing and dating her. "he had what you wanted. not really because, gay, but, you had to watch and you just couldn't handle that." she keeps teasing, acting like it's the best day of her life to learn that taissa turner is jealous. anyone who knows tai would expect that, after all, but to openly admit it? less so. "ouch. using that against me now?" hard to believe in some ways life was easier and harder then. "you got secret handcuffs stashed out here?"

she giggles more at tai swatting her, letting the feeling wash over her. "there is no right way to answer that, so i, you know, plead the fifth." of course she's aware of how hot mikayla is, and she would be lying if she said she didn't check her out before because duh, and she's entirely clear on their relationship. she can just appreciate that mikayla is hot, and she knows it. she makes a show of checking tai out after this conversation "oh hell yeah you do." hip checking her in jest. she thinks most of them look the best they ever have, like they're released from expectations. she looks around and sees a level of peace in themselves, and with all their hair growing out, she's surprised to see that so many people look good with this long hair. the jokes fade away when they return to shauna, concern on her own features when she looks at the hut. "well, you know, if i have to stand between the two of you and her, i am willing to make that sacrifice. for your love."

[pixelfont52]

earthbound

[rosemary-is-in-pesterquest]

It actually makes me insane how much of a wasted potential Vrissy is and how much she's just. Vriska But 8oring.

Give this girl an interest in wizards and bump her vocabulary up with more snark, she was raised by Rose and Kanaya like PLEASE??

[beefsaveragenaturals]

Is beef’s fav food beef/meat /silly

But genuinely, what are the three’s fav food and why if theres a reason :3

Beef would forever kill for a hamburger he is always wanting one so bad. Nobody tell him those are made of ground beef. /j

Aaanyways oh boy this is gonna be fun . I am hardly adventurous with food myself so sorry that it's gonna Show with these answers. NJKGFNJKFG

Beef:

Was joking with that opener but if asked he'd probably shrug and say a McDonald's quarter pounder. Make it a meal; quarter pounder with cheese, large fries, large Coke. Guy can't cook for shit but has always had to fend for himself so I imagine this is his ol' reliable that never does him wrong. Maybe sometimes he gets a second burger or goes for a Big Mac, who knows. He either gets ketchup for his fries or eats them dry like a madman.

Geef:

I could try and come up with some fancy-sounding shit, but she is a chicken nugget girlie to me. She would still have tried the most foods by far out of the three of them, but nothing beats the good ol' nuggets or strips. Uhh I did a whole meal with Beef... imagining they're out getting McD's together; 20pc McNugget, also large fries, large Dr. Pepper. Urge to say she wouldn't get a dipping sauce, but I can also see her getting BBQ sauce. Honorable mention to the peanut butter thing that's still canon to Geef but that's like, a snack thing.

Peeks:

Something in me is saying this guy would fuck up a good wrap. Like not in a "he tries to eat healthy" way but just cuz he likes it + something I can imagine him prepping fairly easily. Specifically envisioning a good shredded chicken wrap but I can see him rotating what he puts in them. As long as it's got lettuce + cheese + meat + sauce then he's chillin'. Tangential, I imagine Beef and Geef finding it lame when he wants to make like pan-fried chicken or whatever but they will have to cope. Because neither of them are learning to cook so njFGNKJJNGF