#and fuck you if you’re silent about this as well

[timberlakefan96]

“Bitch, where the fuck are the other grimy detective games?”

Are you serious right now.

LA Noire, Shadows of Doubt, Heavy Rain, Fahrenheit, Hotel Dusk, The Wolf Among Us, The Sinking City, Pathologic, Judgement, The Gabriel Knight series, the Batman Arkham series if you want to count it, and then if you’ll allow me to stretch the definitions of “detective” And “grime” just a bit in either direction, you’ve got the Phoenix Wright series, Ghost Trick, What Remains of Edith Finch, Detroit become Human, The Silent Hill series, The Sexy Brutale, Cyberpunk 2077, the Witcher series, Paradise Killer, every Lucasarts adventure game ever made (give or take), the Deus Ex series, Famicom Detective Club, Alan Wake 1&2, and that’s all ignoring the fact that the original tweet didn’t even say “games”, she said “stories”, which, please don’t make me recap the long history of the Murder Mystery genre and pulp fiction.

Also Harry IS a middle-aged white guy. Like, I get where you’re coming from, and he’s definitely not the Nathan Drake style action hero Everyman, but his white-middle-aged-male-ness, and his abject fear of his own internalized mediocrity from the same is the springboard for his entire character arc.

Also also, the tweets didn’t even say she DISliked it, or wants to change it, just that it would be cool if this level of quality and style of gameplay was used in another, additional, tertiary game with a less well-warn hook, which as far as takes about DE go is is…fine? Harmless, at best? She didn’t say anything about systemic oppression, or politics, or softening the messages, or really anything about the story and themes, other than she liked it. There’s a whoooooole lot of putting words into mouths that don’t belong there.

I dunno, there’s a lot of dog-piling going on here that just smacks of typical GAMER(tm)-flavored “love my favorite game or die” pretentious bullshit, which is probably the bigger sin. You can’t tell me Harry Dubois wouldn’t also rather be a girl looking for her kitten in a small village in the alps.

I hope the "What if Disco Elysium was about a witch finding her cat in the mountains" post never leaves the gaming discourse vernacular. It will never not be funny to me bc it's got all the Gamer Entitlement™ levels of CoD bros throwing hissy fits about "woke" shit but instead of being couched in far right reactionism it's the exact kind of "Kingdom of Conscience" style liberal outrage at anything with conviction and beliefs that DE waxed on about. Like even chuds who get mad that the game calls you out for being racist interact with the themes of DE better and understand them more than Cat Lady did.

[princessbrunette]

Rewatching season one and thinking about the scene where Wheezie walks in and Rafe quickly flips over his innapropriate magazine out of respect. Imagine him doing the same for deer!reader but because he doesn’t want to taint her innocence

waaaait why are you kind of a genius 🙂‍↕️ i see this as neighbour!rafe with deer!reader and it’s not because he doesn’t wanna taint her innocence, it’s kind of just a knee jerk reaction because he doesn’t want the hot neighbour to see his porn magazines 😒

you come skipping over, rafe barely noticing until you’re virtually right infront of him due to the marijuana clouding his brain. his hand shoots out, flipping the magazines before running a bashful hand through his floppy hair.

“wha’s that?” you hum before you even get to greet him.

“dont worry, alright - why’re you over here anyway?” he drawls, inwardly wondering why his first reaction was to be rude to you. perhaps he’s simply irritated that he got caught.

“was looking for my parents because they’re not home. thought they might be here.” you shrug one shoulder, and he nods slowly, taking a huff from his bong. you stare over the porch, looking into the distance to see if you could see them, or anyone for that matter — as you weren’t so keen on being caught with rafe whilst he’s smoking weed. it didn’t really go with your image.

“y’want some? or….” he coughs, and you turn to blink at him.

“oh, um…” you swallow, overthinking the whole thing. you knew you’d sound deathly uncool. “i don’t smoke.”

rafe wets his lips, nodding exaggeratedly as if to silently say ‘of course.’ before putting it aside. “yeah, uh… good. shits bad for you. you— you know drugs in general just fuck everything up. they ruin lives, man they — they just take everything…i mean, shit.” he rants, growing increasingly more irritated with seemingly no one by the second. at the end of his mini rage, he slams his fist into the soft arm of the porch seat he reclines on, making you widen your eyes slightly.

“yes… that’s what they told us during the anti drug assemblies at school.” you converse, awkwardly wiping your hands down the sides of your plaid dress. you knew rafe enough now to not be so deathly shy, but that didn’t rid you of your social anxiety.

“hah…yeah. shit, i forget we went to the same school. i probably walked right by you, huh.” he calms almost immediately, in the stereotypical unpredictable rafe cameron way. he did walk right past you. many times. you nod, saying nothing at all as to not give yourself away before craning to look behind you at your exit.

“okay. well… if my parents aren’t here i should head home. they’ll probably be there soon anyway.” you glance at your shoes as rafe stands, nodding casually.

“yeah…yeah.”

you go to walk down the porch steps, but stop— feeling a wave of bravery, and turn to look at him over your shoulder, adjusting the tote bag that hangs from it. “oh… and you shouldn’t read those pornographic magazines. they’re objectifying and damaging to women.” you try to hold your chin high, but feel your face get hot. he leans against the porch balcony, seemingly unbothered as you continue walking away.

“yeah well the women in these magazines are gettin’ paid a shit tonne of money so i wouldn’t worry ‘bout them alright?” he calls out carelessly as you disappear away further, before turning his back and sighing, hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “shhhit.” he whispers, to no one but himself.

[zweigsangel]

it started with the faint buzz of your phone on the nightstand, vibrating so persistently it startled you out of half-sleep. you grabbed it, squinting at the screen to see chris's name flashing. it wasn’t unusual for him to call, but at nearly two in the morning? that wasn’t normal.

“what the hell do you want?” you answered, voice raspy from sleep. “yo,” he slurred, dragging the word out. his voice sounded distant, like it was fighting through static and something else.

you sat up, rubbing your face. “are you drunk?”

“nah,” he said, then paused. “well, kinda. not drunk. high. like, really fuckin’ high.” there was another pause. then he laughed softly. “sorry, is that rude? don’t know why i’m apologizin’. i just—fuck, nevermind.“

“what’s up? you woke me up, dumbass.” but your irritation was mostly for show, your tone softening.

chris and you had always been like this—banter that felt like a second language, jokes that only the two of you got. you’d been friends for years, meeting in high school when he’d transferred to your school halfway through junior year. he was scruffy, cocky, and way too confident for his own good. but beneath that? he was sweet in ways he didn’t let many people see.

you leaned back against the headboard, adjusting to the idea that you weren’t getting back to sleep anytime soon.

“just..missed your voice, i think.” he said it so simply, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

your stomach did that annoying little flip at his words, and you cursed it silently. there’d always been something unspoken between you two. maybe it was the way he sometimes looked at you like you were the only person in the room. or the way his hand would linger on your back when you hugged goodbye. but you’d both avoided it, burying it under layers of sarcasm and jokes.

“you’re so full of shit,” you said, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “nah, swear to god,” he said, voice still soft but with a hint of that teasing edge he always had. “can i-can i come over?”

“chris, it’s the middle of the night—”

“i know, i know. but i just... i really wanna see you. please.”

something in his voice made your chest ache a little. “fine. but if you wake my neighbors, i’m kicking your ass.”

“promise. be there in ten.”

ten minutes later, there was a soft knock at your door. you opened it to find him standing there, hoodie pulled over his head. his hair was a mess, and his eyes were glassy, but he grinned when he saw you.

“you look cute,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

“shut up,” you said, shutting the door behind him. you were just in an oversized t-shirt and shorts, and you felt a little self-conscious under his gaze.

he flopped onto your couch, stretching out like he owned the place you grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen and tossed it at him. “drink that. you look like shit,” you said, sitting down next to him. he smelled faintly like weed and the cheap cologne he always wore, and it made your chest ache a little in a way you didn’t want to examine too closely.

“thanks, babe. love the support.” but he opened the bottle and took a long sip, sighing afterward.

“so, what’s this all about?” you asked, pulling your legs up beneath you.

he rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically unsure. “dunno. just..couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you.”

you laughed, trying to brush it off. “yeah, right. you’re high as shit. you probably couldn’t stop thinking about pizza, too.”

“nah, i’m serious.” his voice was quieter now, and when you looked at him, his eyes were on you, steady and unflinching. “i mean it. you’re all i’ve been thinkin’ about lately, and it’s been drivin’ me fuckin’ insane.”

your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might break through your chest. “you’re just saying this because you’re high,” you said weakly, not meeting his eyes.

“bullshit,” he shot back, his voice sharper now. “this isn’t the weed talkin’, alright? this is me. i’ve been feelin’ this way for ages, but i didn’t wanna fuck shit up between us. but, god, it’s killin’ me,” he paused for a moment. “but tonight i was sittin’ at home, high as fuck, and i just couldn’t stop thinking about you. like, your stupid laugh, and the way you always steal my fries even when you say you’re not hungry, and how you—fuck, this is so embarrassing.”

you stared at him, your mouth slightly open but no words coming out.

he looked up at you, his eyes serious now. “i think i’m in love with you. no, fuck that, i know i’m in love with you. and i don’t know what to do about it, ‘cause i don’t wanna lose you, but i also can’t keep pretendin’ i don’t feel this way.”

you felt like the air had been knocked out of you. you sat there, stunned, your brain scrambling to process what he’d just said.

“say something,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “please.”

you swallowed hard, your mind spinning, and he laughed bitterly. “shit, i knew this was a bad idea,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “forget i said anything, alright? just—fuck. i’m sorry.”

he started to get up, but you grabbed his wrist before you even realized what you were doing. “wait.”

he froze, looking down at you, and you swallowed hard. “you’re not..wrong,” you admitted quietly.

his eyebrows pulled together. “what do you mean?”

you hesitated, but only because you were scared. scared of what this could mean, of how things might change. but then you thought about all the little moments over the years—his hand brushing against yours, the way his smile could light up your worst days, the way he always knew exactly how to make you laugh.

“i mean—i think about you, too,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “but i didn’t wanna ruin anything, either.”

for a moment, he just stared at you, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. then, slowly, he sat back down. “yeah?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“yeah,” you said, meeting his eyes.

his eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared at you like he couldn’t believe what he’d heard.

then he did move, leaning in just a little, his gaze flicking to your lips. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his voice low and a little raspy. your breath caught, but you nodded. “yeah.”

and then his lips were on yours, soft and warm and a little hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to want this as much as he did. but when you kissed him back, threading your fingers through his hair, he deepened the kiss, his hands coming up to cup your face like he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

it wasn’t perfect—his nose bumped yours, and you could taste the faint tang of weed on his lips—but it didn’t matter. it was warm and messy and real, and it made your heart feel like it was about to burst.

when he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he was smiling—this soft, almost disbelieving smile that made your chest ache in the best way.

“fuck,” he whispered. “that was..better than i imagined.” you laughed softly, your cheeks burning. “you’ve imagined this?”

“yeah,” he admitted, his smile turning sheepish. “a lot, actually.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling. “you’re such an idiot.”

“your idiot,” he said, grinning.

you groaned, shoving him lightly, but he just laughed, pulling you into his arms. and for the first time, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

[catfern]

─ restless dreams.

in support of palestine ∙ the reality of tlou ∙ resources

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader (?)

music: a world of madness - akira yamaoka

word count: 2.3k

summary: you're dead. with how ellie's been coping, she might as well be. that is, until she sees you, or rather, a woman with your face.

WARNINGS: heavy discussions of grief, illness, death. implied hallucinatory sequences, general themes associated with silent hill 2. smut, oral (r!receiving).

cat says ⎯ were ya'll waiting for pyramid head to show up?

if i could be … her.

but i’m not her

and she’s not me.

and you’re somewhere different.

on a different planet.

cold.

the merciless descent of winter had done nothing but bury ellie in a fog. a blur of forgetfulness, of numb reaction.

everyone had told her it would become easier. the festering pain in her joints would fade, the endless congestion in her head, like a dragnet of her slowed thoughts, would release.

“grief is just one of those things that you have to learn to live with.”

ellie wasn’t sure if she was learning. if she knew what that even felt like. what was it, to learn to love an absence? a gaping chasm, in one’s soul?

plagued. the sweetness of your voice lingered like stubborn molasses in her ears, a ghosting touch, nails scratching at her scalp, she could feel it. at least, for a few fleeting moments. in the sticky dark of her bedroom, memories of you clung to her back.

the pavement, slick with thin ice and dirty snow, echoed the song of her footsteps in the empty streets. she needed milk. a sick darkness had descended on the small space of her apartment, and her fridge stunk of something sour.

the hairs on the back of her neck prickled in the bitter wind. she hadn’t been sleeping.

she had thought, maybe, the chill in the air would help her. that the light would snap her from this daze, bring her to see this delusional miasma for what it was. but the wet sun, shrouded in grey, granted no such reprieve. she still saw you everywhere.

the shine of the linoleum tile seemed blinding in artificial light. ellie squinted in the change, her skin dry, pale and discoloured from weeks inside. 

she can feel the clerk’s gaze burning her through her clothes. she shakes the dusting of snowfall off her shoulders, and sees the tracks of mud she’s pulled in from outside. oh.

she scrapes the soles of her sneakers along the peeling grout of the tile, and shuffles her way along the aisles. the rows of fridge doors buzz in the dim silence of the store, there’s something metallic in the air.  

it was a dying habit, beelining for the skim milk. something you had put her on to, with your endless buzzing about dairy. it was comforting, following a path well-trodden through the small grocer, one she had so often taken when she had a softness to return to. her footsteps fell, heavy and loud and ringing her ears, empty.

ellie grunts a hoarse ‘excuse me’ to the woman standing in front of the milk fridge. she wasn’t grabbing anything, just standing … watching the milk as if waiting for it to move. so, ellie figured it was okay to push past. the woman moved back without a word.

the jug felt cool, and almost anchored, beneath ellie’s fingertips. something to latch on to, tangible in this maze of wretched passing time.

“sorry! i didn’t see you there.”

ellie bit so hard into her cheek it drew blood. warm, foreign in her mouth, an iron taste.

your voice was not an uncommon ringing in her ears, in these hellish pastimes. the open world teased her, so often she heard you in a gentle ripple of water, the humming engine of a passing car. but this …

it was you. ripped from fresh fucking dirt.

well, ellie wasn’t sure. a ghost in the corner store was not something she was eager to find, if that’s what this woman was. what you were. she could feel her hand twitching in her jacket pocket, an obsessive itch to reach out, to feel the tangible, the absent real.

your name slips past her lips like a familiar groove in her tongue, and the woman laughs. it’s deeper than yours, jilted, not sweet.

“are you confusing me with someone else?” she asks. no, no, she can’t be. it’s your face, every mapped detail from the haze of her dreams, ripped from your coffin and supplanted here. on this body, obscure.

it could be a mask. ellie could dig her fingernails under your pretty, unblemished skin and tear it off this creature, this … offence. would you bleed the same?

“i-“ the milk jug suddenly felt too cold, burning into the skin of her palm. she hesitated, joints locked, body aching. whatever frantic obscenities ellie had wanted to hurl at her, at you, for the affront of your very existence, dripped back down her throat, made her choke.

the woman tilts her head in anticipation. you don’t do that, you didn’t do that.

it’s not you.

“ellie? you told me you weren’t coming today.”

she can still hear the wheezing undercurrent in your voice, a haunting possession of the brilliance in your body. you weren’t meant to exist somewhere so … clinical.

“i .. wanted to see you.”

your hand ghosts her cheek, the prickling of neglected texture along the bone. she refused to touch you. not like this.

ellie’s breath comes heavy in the heady air of her apartment. she can smell the stale rot in the walls, consuming her with every struggling heave of her lungs.

she had left the fridge door open when she left, the flickering cold light leaving a staggering crack along the darkness. she slumps against the wall of her kitchenette, pressing her hands into her muddy hair, as if trying to hold herself together at the seams.

she was going crazy, wasn’t she?

you’re haunting her. ellie supposes that she knew you would. a spectre, a shadow tethered to her feet. she had hoped, she could push past it, cradle your tenderness close to her heart, lock away the rest. naive.

she had become too complacent with the shell of you that malady had created. she’d forgotten how angry you could get. even from beyond the veil of death.

but it wasn’t you. no, no, ellie reminds herself. that … woman, was a coincidence. a trick of the flickering, sickening lights. her grief had muddled her mind, made her see things that weren’t there.

maybe she so desperately wanted to see you. deep within the dairy aisle. maybe, she no longer had the strength to turn away from you, like she once had. maybe, she just craves something you can no longer provide.

three raps knock the wood of her door, and ellie shakes. visceral.

she doesn’t remember answering, but the threshold was there, her hand warming the cool bronze of her doorknob.

this was just cruel.

“oh! it’s you again!” her smile is a wicked caricature, something hollow. snow sits in her hair, and ellie is blighted with your warmth, ghostly in this empty winter. “sorry, my phone’s dead. i’ve been asking around, is everyone on vacation? you’re the only one that answered the door.”

“wh - what?” ellie couldn’t listen. 

you had broken your nose, as a child, a detail never lost on her in the intimacy of your nights together. she would trace her fingers over the bump the accident left, the irreverent flaws that endeared her, magnetised ellie to your person.

she studied this woman, her … perfections. the faultless slope of the bridge of her nose.

so … she was different? this wasn’t you. ellie wasn’t sure if the constant reminder was her anchor or her chain.

“can i use your landline?”

the question was simple, and ellie ached to oblige. invite her in.

“uh, sure.” it was a hoarse, quiet agreement. she shuffles to the side, carves a path for the stranger, who smiles at her sweetly, tight-lipped, in thanks.

her perfume was different. heavier, something darker. red fruit and earth. it caught in ellie’s nose, unwelcome. your name is a phantom on the dry ridges of her lips, and the woman snickers, the fur collar of her snow-dusted coat ruffling as she turns to meet ellie’s foggy gaze. the glory of what was once your gaze, now shared, was lost on this cheap copy.

“you keep calling me that. what, do i look like your girlfriend?”

ellie chokes on something that is not there.

“n-no, my late wife.” ellie could feel her gravity changing, re-centring. she crosses the floor slowly, listening to every creak of the old floorboards. reverent steps. “you … you could be her twin.”

she laughs, distant and deep, like a joke. like she couldn’t see the lines of desperation, of reaching hope that haunt the withering skin of ellie’s face. couldn’t she see? was she not aware of her own part she played in ellie’s torment?

or was she seperate from it all? was she simply passing through, a tourist in this purgatory?

the woman hangs up the receiver of the phone, having never called anyone. her eyes splay pity on this platter between them.

“i don’t look like a .. ghost, do i?” the teasing lilt in her voice was familiar. it was yours. she purses her lips. “maybe i shouldn’t have come. you’re clearly going through something.”

ellie’s hand darts out to ground itself on her skin, pressing into the bone of her wrist, the base of her body.

“ellie.”

she shook the molasses of your voice from her ears, pressed her eyes shut in beseeching of something free.

“please.” her voice was barely there, small in her throat, but enough to hear in the absence of wherever this was. wherever she has ended up. “you have to tell me who you are, if you’re real.”

the woman pouts, the way you did when you wanted something. her touch is soft, leading, like yours was, as it slips from ellie’s rusting grip and falls back, unceremoniously, onto the leather armchair in the living room. plumes of dust greeted her, only added to the stench in the air, the musk of unforgiving.

“it doesn’t matter who i am.” she says, and ellie almost stumbles after her, her knees aching as she falls, devout, ready to worship, if only this spectre gave her answers. “i know what grief’s like. and … i’m here for you.”

ellie breathes unsteadily, her hands shaking, cool sweat dripping down her back. the woman reaches out in the growing silence between them. her nails were bumpy, bitten down to the quick, covered poorly in thin, pink nail polish, as they scratch gently along ellie’s cheek.

“see? i’m real.”

an illness lined ellie’s stomach. wanton belief … this was real. there was a simplicity in this, in the dream that you had come back to her, after all. flesh warm and alive beneath her fingers, untainted.

“don’t you want to touch me?”

the image of you, of her, bleeds in ellie’s brain. you were asking with a sweetness you knew she could never ignore. temptation rots the soul, but hers had died with you. in your final breath, you had clawed it out of her.

there’s a certain cruelty to her touch, the way ellie splays her decay of passion upon this blank body. control is lost to her here, although a mirage of it echoes in her grip on your thigh, her nails ripping into the stranger’s skin, hoping to study whatever is beneath.

“please, please…” ellie’s voice is soft, chasing a dead docility up the woman’s inner thigh, her tongue pulling a cotton trail into familiar warmth. “i’m sorry…”

your head falls back against the edge of the armchair, soft, sweet whines dripping from the woman’s lips like honey, ellie’s nose pressing into the silk of your cunt, her tongue dazed and ever desperate to taste you. to feel you like you once were, broken, made whole again in the creeping twilight of an oncoming snowstorm.

a low rumble pulls through both of you, her lips a current on your clit, a tremor in the key of her voice. she has to pull herself up on her knees, push herself into your presence, to keep herself there, within this second chance. her body shakes beneath yours, in wait, for something that had long since disappeared.

she groans, something deep and distant below her throat. her tongue dances along the warmth inside you, painting her apologies, her dying grievances along the soft expanse of whatever lay inside, forever unheard. her fingers grip bruises into your stolen skin, a rough yank pulling you towards her.

you had hated when she was rough with you, but were you really here to complain?

“please, i…” her voice is something dark, muffled against your skin. “i need you, i.. you shouldn’t have left me. i’m sorry.”

“that doesn’t matter now.” firm and bitter, dry, calloused hands pull ellie up from her home between your legs. she could nearly whine at the absence of warmth, if the vitriol freeze wasn’t something she had so long deserved, so duly needed. ellie’s touch softens.

“nothing matters now.”

your gaze, her gaze, is scrutinising, painful to hold in her eye. but she needn’t look away, she shouldn’t. otherwise, she was sure you’d disappear. she couldn’t let you, never again. she could keep you alive, deep within the ire of her eye, she could, she was so sure.

something stings within her. feeling, it prickles back into ellie’s body like she’d been long asleep.

“i miss you,” ellie’s voice breaks against the cool, unwavering hand of the strange woman, the absence of mercy she so desperately sought. a sob shakes, sore in the column of her neck. the pain was welcome. “so, so much.”

tears run hot, her spine crooked as she falls back, looking up at you with a newly discovered vulnerability. you look at her, your eyes cold with pity and hate.

“i love you.” she chokes, begging like you’ll listen. “come back to me, i love you still.”

you shake your head. you won’t. ellie doesn’t deserve that kindness. no longer, anyway.

your wife slumps forward, pressing her face into the softness of your thigh like that would mean forgiveness, like that would bring back the innocence she had sorely stolen from you. your hand, with jagged nails, runs through ellie’s hair. brick wall comfort.

when you speak, your voice lingers in her ears like a bad hangover. it’s not yours, not anymore. whatever was left of you was rotten, spiteful.

“are you afraid?”

ellie sobs, loud in the impending silence.

there was something here. it’s gone now.

tag list: @r3starttt

[welcometololaland]

Carlos Reyes: Biiiig stretch and a lil hip thrust for *reasons of the seductional matters*

this got out of hand! stretch-gate in another universe <3

“I know what you’re doing,” TK says, chewing on the end of a pen, his eyes trained on his laptop like Carlos hasn’t just entered the room. 

Carlos has questions, primarily centred around why TK is, for a lack of a better word, holding a pen while working on a device which does not require a writing utensil. More importantly, he’s wondering why TK is out here at all, sitting on the couch and not in bed.

After all, TK should be in bed. The stars have aligned and given them a rare opportunity to sleep in; to cuddle and maybe have lazy morning sex, which will probably involve Carlos slowly opening TK up or fucking his thighs if they get impatient. TK will arch back into Carlos chest, the pale skin on his neck exposed as Carlos presses messy kisses along it, biting gently on familiar pressure points. Their legs will be tangled together, the comforter shoved aside when it gets annoying and when their rough morning voices and commingled moans get increasingly erratic, Carlos will let go and TK will come all over his fist with a beautiful cry. 

But instead, TK is on his laptop. Doing something that is not having sex with Carlos.

“What am I doing?” Carlos asks, wincing in the direction of the open blinds and flopping onto the couch. Everything feels too bright. He wishes it were possible to turn the sun down a notch. “Stretching?”

TK scoffs, closing the lid of the laptop with a soft click and twisting the pen between his fingers. “That is not just stretching. You practically threw your back out.”

“I— What?”

TK gives him a long look. “You were stretching like a whore, Carlos.”

Carlos narrowly avoids choking on his own tongue. “TK, I literally arched my back.”

“And thrust your hips,” TK says, which is questionable, because Carlos is fairly confident that TK was looking at his laptop at the relevant moment. Plus, that wasn’t a hip thrust. If TK wants a hip thrust, he can have one.

He raises a brow. “Your lumbar spine is connected to your pelvis, TK. If you want a good stretch you have to—”

“Oh,” TK huffs. “And now you’re using the word pelvis. You know, if you wanna have sex so bad you can just say it.”

“Okay,” Carlos replies. “I want to have sex?”

“Well now it sounds like a question.”

“Because I don’t know if you want to have sex.”

TK practically throws the pen away from his person. Apparently, this statement is cause for unfathomable frustration. “Since when have I ever not wanted to have sex with you? I’d rather be doing that than watching you fake stretch.”

“TK,” Carlos says, trying desperately to hold back laughter. The entire situation is so ridiculous that if he wasn’t so hyper aware of the sun on his face, he’d wonder if he was in some chaotic dream. “I just woke up. I’m stiff.”

“Well, you know what else could be stiff?”

“You’re really going to go there?”

TK’s lips twitch in the corners as he hauls himself off the couch, laptop and pen long forgotten. Carlos will have to pick the pen up later, but he’s trying not to think about it. “I’m really going to go there,” he insists, holding out his hand for Carlos in silent invitation.

Carlos takes it, following his husband towards the bedroom and wondering how on earth one simple stretch turned his entire morning around. Suddenly, it feels right back on track. 

Next, he’s going to take up morning yoga.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

It’s a hot summer day and you’re not prepared for what you find when you step outside the Shack.

suggestive, fem reader

The Mystery Shack feels like it’s punishing you for even existing today. . . every room drenched in a warmth so oppressive it makes your skin stick to itself. The fans are useless in this oven.

You’re irritable, sweaty, and worst of all, alone. The usual bickering, the faint sound of tools or Stan’s TV rambling on in the background, none of it’s here. The Shack feels wrong without them.  

“Stan? Ford?”

You’d checked everywhere, no Ford hunched over in his lab, no Stan napping on his recliner. You’re about to give up, maybe lay down and suffer quietly, when you catch that— clang, clang, the unmistakable sound of metal on metal, and muffled.

Curious, you step outside, and the second you do the sun hits like a slap. Bright, blinding, merciless. You shield your eyes with one hand, squinting through the glare, and. . . oh. Here they are.

Stan and Ford. Both of them. Shirtless. Bent over the Stanmobile. Sweaty, dirty, all covered in oil. 

Stan’s at the front, hunched over the engine, his belly jiggles slightly as he leans in, his broad shoulders gleaming in the sunlight, muscles shifting and flexing as he tightens something with a wrench. Sweat rolls down his hairy chest. 

Ford stands off to the side, frowning at a toolbox, his scarred six-fingered hands carefully sorting through its contents. His frame is a bit leaner, but just as distracting. Scars crisscross his torso, telling stories you’d kill to hear. There’s a smear of oil across his chest, and when he finally looks up, letting out a tired sigh from heat, the sweat trailing down his neck to his collarbone you forget how to fucking breathe.

And now you’re just standing there. Staring. No, ogling.

Stan’s the first to notice, of course. He’s always the first to notice.  

“Well, well, look who’s decided to grace us with their presence,” he calls as he straightens up, wiping his hands on a grease-stained rag. “ya just gonna stand there and watch, sweetheart? or ya wanna lend a hand?”

You choke, physically choke, because he’s grinning now and fuck, that look should be illegal.

Ford glances over, his brow furrowed in mild concern when he notices you. “Are you all right? You shouldn’t be standing out here in this heat, it’s dangerous without proper hydration.”

Stan rolls his eyes, tossing the rag over his shoulder. “Oh, give it a rest, Sixer. She’s fine. Though, if you are feelin’ faint, sweetheart, I’d be happy to catch ya. Or hold ya. Or. . . well, I can think of a few other ways to keep you steady.”

Your stomach flips, legs feel like jelly. Stan’s eyes are raking over you, not subtle in the slightest, and. . . Ford gaze lingers, too.

“Prolonged exposure to the sun can lead to heatstroke and—”

“Would you quit it with the lecture, genius?” 

You don’t answer. You can’t, you just let them both argue. It’s actually good they do, at least they won’t notice how pathetic you look right now as you drink them in, every bead of sweat, every flex and shift of muscle. All you can think about is what it’d feel like to touch them, to let your fingers trace the scars on Ford’s chest, to feel the heat radiating from Stan’s skin.

You imagine Stan leaning against the car, beckoning you closer with that cocky grin. “C’mere, sweetheart, why don’t you put those pretty little hands to good use?”  

Ford would step behind you, letting his hands slide over your shoulders, down your arms, breathing in your ear. “Relax, darling, we’ll just make you feel good.” as he plants tender kisses on your neck.

Stan’s fingers trailing down the curve of your waist as you lock your eyes with him, while Ford pays attention to your skin, kissing every inch of it. “you’re just dyin’ to feel us, huh? that pretty pussy of yours must be drippin.”

Then Ford’s hand on your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze, the silent act of possession, jealousy. “Look at me,” which would sound like a fucking command. “Don’t look away. I need you to see everything we're going to do to you.”  

Your thighs press together, but it’s no use. You’re fucked.

“Earth to dollface!” Stan’s voice pulls you back, and you realise he’s stepped closer, his grin widening as he catches the glazed look in your eyes. “what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours, huh? thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ naughty?”

“Stanley, enough.”

“Nah, you can’t tell me you don’t see it. She’s practically beggin’ us to bend her over right here.” 

Your mouth opens to protest, but nothing comes out because Stan is right, always fucking right, god, Ford, why cant you understand.

Ford finally steps in, landing his hand on Stan’s shoulder as he pulls him back slightly. “Stop that, it’s ignorant,” he says to his brother, but when he looks at you, his expression and tone changes into something warmer, caring. “You should sit down. Let us get you some water.”

“Oh, don’t act so high and mighty, poindexter, when yourself been starin’ at her like she’s dessert. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

You want to die. Or melt into the ground. Or god maybe let them both actually ruin you, because. . . the way they’re looking at you right now? 

[kkuzushi]

❇️ anon: Could you do an NSFW post of making love to Kabukimono for the first time? Like a sweet, consensual experience that is both super pleasurable for him and also helps his bond with the reader grow closer?? Where he’s being an absolute darling and is a little nervous, and reader soothes him and ends up fucking him into pure euphoria while whispering sweet nothings in his ear??? Idk I just really love him and I think some fluffy NSFW with him would be perfect! <3

“ 𝐊𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐨’𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ”

✦ characters: sub!Kabukimono x gn!reader

✦ cw: virgin + small dick kabu, gentle sex, loooots of foreplay, praise, fingering (giving), frotting, coming untouched, cock/strap penetration

✦ word count: 3.476k

✦ notes: I didn’t want to rush anything for Kabukimono’s first time so there’s lots of foreplay here. <3

sfw ver | ✦ nsfw ver

It’s late into the night. Everyone’s laid and snuggled up into their futons, just like you and Kabukimono—tangled in each other’s limbs yet not asleep. Your lips are locked in with each other, the action feeling both gentle and desperate for the inexperienced puppet.

Initially, Kabukimono was nervous to ask for your help. These weird sensations in his stomach when you’re close—it was starting to bother him, and your solution to this was to indulge it. Once after getting a taste of your passionate affection, Kabukimono was soon lost in the moment, his inexperience shining through his clumsy yet eager kisses.

The puppet seemed to have forgotten that you’re still human however, still needing air in between each kiss. Slowly, you pull away and softly gasp for air. Kabukimono’s eyes fluttered open, confusion pasting in his face, “Why’d you stop? Did I do it wrong?”

You chucked at his innocent questions. The way he was confused yet concerned at the same time was inexplicably endearing. “No, darling,” You shook your head, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just needed to breathe.”

“Oh,” Kabukimono replies, his face feeling warm despite his lack of ability to blush like a human. “I’m sorry,” He added in a hushed tone as he got closer to your face once more, “I’ll be more mindful.” His lips hovered yours, silently asking permission to kiss you.

You reciprocate his action, foreheads pressing against each other. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” you reassured him with a small, comforting smile before leaning back in, picking up right where you had left off. “You’re so eager—it’s adorable,” you teased softly, parting your lips to meet the eager movements of his tongue again.

Kabukimono felt more giddy than he already was, his arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Something about your reassurances, your praises.. It keeps him going. Keeps him wanting more—needing more. You love indulging him, and tonight, you might as well see how far this would go.

Your hands roamed around his kimono, slowly tugging on the ribbons and robes to slide it off his body with care. Kisses trailed down to his chin, his half-lidded eyes fluttering as it follows your head until it’s buried to his neck.

“Ahmngh..!” Whimpers start to escape from Kabukimono’s lips, his head instinctively tilting up to give you more access. The soft kisses on his untainted neck sends pleasant shivers down his spine, desperate to receive more.

The remnants of his kimono and his undergarments cling to his frame, the last barriers between you. You lift yourself slightly, taking a moment to drink in the sight of him beneath you. His face is a deep shade of red, cheeks flushed from the intensity of your actions, even though all you’ve done so far is kiss him.

“I’m going to try something,” you murmured, crawling on top of him with deliberate slowness. Your knees pressed into the bedding on either side of his waist, and the way his violet eyes widened, pupils dilating ever so slightly, betrayed his inexperience and the nervous excitement he couldn’t hide.

The puppet’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t need to breathe, but somehow, the sensation of you angled above him was enough to make his non-existent pulse race. Something raw and unfamiliar stirred in him, leaving him vulnerable yet captivated.

“What are you gonna do?” Kabukimono asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity as his gaze followed the motion of your hands. They traced along the lines of his stomach over the fabric, ghosting over his ribs before traveling upward toward his chest.

His body trembled under your touch, an unfiltered reaction he couldn’t control—couldn’t even begin to understand. Slowly, your fingers brush the outline of his nipples, the contact sparking unintentional jolts through his body.

“A-Ah!” Kabukimono gasped, his back slightly arching from surprise before falling back down just as immediately. The sensation caused him to stare at you for a moment, both surprised and confused by his own reaction.

You paused as well, fingers stilling on his chest. “How was that?” You asked in a tender tone, watching for any negative reaction or movement he would show.

The puppet didn’t know what to answer at first, his brain still digesting the earlier contact. “It’s different, but not bad..” His hands, previously clutching the sheets beneath you two, now find its way to your wrist, a silent permission for you to continue.

Not needing to be told twice, your fingers continued its ministrations. His nipples hardened from just a slight brush, poking underneath the fabric of his kimono. You rolled the pebbled peaks in between your index and thumb, gently twisting and pinching them to Kabukimono’s preference.

“Hnn..♡ feels nice..” Kabukimono whimpered, back arching closer to your fingers. He hasn’t felt anything this good—besides literally any other affection you’ve given him—and he loves it. It’s confusing, a little overwhelming, but knowing these feelings are inflicted by you.. it allows him to enjoy the intimacy he sees behind it.

You didn’t even need to hear any verbal reaction from him; the way his hands clung tightly to your wrists was a telltale sign of just how much he was enjoying this—perhaps even more than expected.

Leaning down, you captured his lips in another kiss, and he eagerly complied, his trembling body pressing further beneath you. You swallowed every sound he made, each muffled noise vibrating against your lips. It tasted like the unrestrained innocence of someone experiencing this kind of intimacy for the first time.

It was undeniably arousing, however, you knew this is about Kabukimono. You’d put your own needs aside if it meant showing him the depths of pleasure just waiting underneath his fingertips.

You pull away again, gasping for air, and you see him do the same. Was he imitating you or was the puppet actually feeling breathless in his own way? Nevermind that, the sight was enough to spark excitement in your eyes.

“Let me take these off for you,” You say, finally discarding the last layer of his robes. Kabukimono lifts himself to assist you in removing the fabric, his delicate figure finally getting a breather. The pleasure was so good that his own clothes felt too tight around his body.

As soon as you got him naked, you spoiled his chest with kisses, each one a testament of your love and desire for him. Your eyes glanced up to find his own, meeting his glassy gaze in an instant.

Your tongue darts out of your mouth, tracing it to the side before reaching his erect nipples. As you latch on one of them, Kabukimono mewled in a high pitched tone.

“ngHAAh..?!! ♡” Once again, Kabukimono's back arched to your mouth, allowing you to suck on his nipples more. It feels so good, but it looks like he’s trying to move away as well. The confusing mix of ‘wanting more’ and ‘can’t take any more’ seems to be messing with his program.

“T-Too much.. hah.. too good..! ♡” His head thrashed to the side, his indigo hair fanning out on his face and pillow. His hands scrambled to your head, tangling around your hair strands as he anchored himself. “Mmngh.. is it supposed to–hmn!–feel this g-good..?”

You chucked as your tongue swirled around the hard nubs, sending a delightful vibration across his chest before you pulled away. “It is, but if it gets too much, you know the word..” You spoke, pressing gentle kisses on his collarbone, letting him calm down from the high of his pleasure.

“Dearest, please..”

“Hm? Go on, I’m listening.”

“Please.. take off your clothes.. I wanna feel you more.”

His request reminded you that he was the only one bare in bed. You chuckled after sensing both his embarrassment and need. You discarded the top of your clothes, and Kabukimono was quick to feel it with his uncalloused hands. The ball joints of his knuckles felt good to the human skin, like it was massaging you even without the intention.

The puppet pulled you closer, face buried in the crook of your neck as his lips started to imitate the kisses you’ve given him earlier. “Don’t stop yet, please.. the feeling in my stomach hasn’t gone away,” He murmured against your skin, goosebumps forming on your nape from just the vibration of his voice.

You turn your head to look at his legs, it’s shaking slightly and there’s already a noticeable bulge on his underwear. “Don’t worry. We’re not done until you’re satisfied, darling,” You reassured. One of your legs settled in between his, making them spread apart.

You hold him by the waist, fingers pressing into the soft curve as your free hand trails down to his thigh, tracing idle shapes against his supple skin. “Look at me, Kabu,” you whisper, your voice low and laced with affection. His wide, indigo eyes snap to yours without hesitation, filled with trust and an overwhelming vulnerability.

Not a moment is wasted before your lips find his again, the kiss deep and consuming. It almost distracted him from your hand that’s inching closer and closer to his intimate area, settling on his inner thigh. Your thumb then brushes on a damp spot of his garment, receiving an involuntary snap from his hip.

Kabukimono gasped out of the kiss, watching your hand that already pulled away the very last thing that kept him covered. His cock springs free, the length not any bigger than your palm. It’s honestly adorable, making you pause for a moment

���D-Dearest, you shouldn’t– I mean–.. don’t stare so much..” Kabukimono voiced out, quickly covering his small dick with his palm. “I don’t think you should be looking at it..” He adds softly, shying away from your gaze.

His embarrassment only served to tempt you further, drawing you in like a magnet. Maybe it isn’t fair for him to show such an intimate thing while you’re just here, watching over him.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” you said softly, cupping one side of his face and brushing your thumb over his cheek. “Here, why don’t I show you it’s nothing to be shy about?”

Kabukimono watches as you offer yourself the same tenderness. His wide eyes follow your fingers, hooking on your lower garments, discarding it the same way you did with his. As your own cock has been exposed out of its confinements, Kabukimono gulped. It’s certainly bigger than his, intimidating yet he doesn’t shy away from it, unlike with his own.

You lower your hips to his, erect cocks touching each other. You start to grind in a gentle manner, frotting against him. Kabukimono moaned at the feeling of being so close to you, his own hips imitating your actions without much thought.

“Nhah–more.. please, more..” Kabukimono whined, his fingers clawing on your shoulders as he tried to ground himself from the overwhelming pleasure of direct contact with your dick. Now how could you deny that cute whine? If anything, it’s turning you on even more.

You reached for his cock, stroking yours with it. “uwAH–!♡ hanggh..~♡♡” Kabukimono jolted from your movement, unsure whether he should chase the friction or run away from it. His eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open as unadulterated moans streamed out.

Kabukimono’s cock starts to leak precum, messing up your palm, wet squelches echoing in the room. You gather the lube, coating your fingers with it before tracing down to his ass. You continue to grind, wanting to keep him suspended in that euphoric state, savoring every moment of his bliss before gently introducing him to another uncharted sensation.

Soon enough, the puppet’s attention falters as he feels one of your fingers circling his rim. He looks at you with a nervous gaze, “Wait, that’s dirty..!” He whispered, despite his comment, he gently rocks back to your fingertips.

You laugh softly, “Relax, darling. I’ll make sure you’ll feel good.” Your index starts to probe inside his untouched hole, the tight muscle fluttering around your digit. Kabukimono’s back arched for the umpteenth time, nails digging further to your skin.

“Feels–weird..hah..” He closed his eyes shut, fighting the discomfort of having something inside his hole for the very first time. You press your lips to his ear, whispering ever so softly for him to relax, that he got this, that he’s being a very good boy for you. He moaned at the praises, the pressure of your finger progressively getting pleasurable as seconds went by.

Once you notice him beginning to relax, the tension in his muscles slowly melting away, you take the silent cue to pump your fingers in and out at a steady pace. You let him get lost in the moment before your middle finger joined in, slowly but surely stretching him.

“Aannnh– that feels.. good..♡” His head falls back, his mouth opening as his moans increase in volume. “D-Don’t stop.. hngh–!♡” His hips rocks back to your fingers, meeting your gentle thrusts. His cock, still pressed against yours, is leaking more than ever.

As you scissor him open, you take the lubricant gel you’ve prepared from the start. You open it with your free hand and smear it on both your and Kabukimono’s cock. He whimpered at the jelly feeling, his small dick throbbing involuntarily.

He looks down and sees you applying it on his ass as well, your fingers gliding more easily now. “That feels–HAmnhh?!♡” You curled your fingers just as soon as he talked, words interrupted by a loud whine. You feel the tip of your fingers rub on something spongy.

“Found it.” You murmured to his ear, watching him writhe as you continuously rubbed his prostate.

His twitching legs wrapped around yours, toes curling from the overwhelming ecstasy your fingers provide. You’re close to the finale and you can’t help but imagine how Kabukimono would react once you’re finally inside him.

Slowly, you pull your fingers out, grabbing his legs to wrap it on your waist. “Mhn.. what are you..?” Kabukimono’s eyes flutter open, following the way you align yourself in between him. “W-Wait! Are you going to.. put it in?” His eyes widened, anticipation and nervousness shining through his pupils.

You scoop him to a soft embrace, placing a peck on his lips. “It’s okay, I’ll be gentle,” You reassured, pressing your forehead against his. “I’ll put it in slowly, tell me to stop if you need a moment.”

The head of your cock traces the rim of his hole, his precum and the lubricant mixing together. Once you feel him ease up, you slowly slide your way inside. Inch by inch, the puppet crumbled underneath you, eyes shut tightly as his tight muscle got stretched by your shaft.

He didn’t speak, too focused on the burning sensation of you pushing inside. You stopped half way through, not wanting to push beyond his limits. “Are you okay? Do you want me to pull out?” You asked in a soft tone, carding your fingers through his indigo locks to comfort him.

Kabukimono stayed still for a moment but shook his head, “I-I’m fine.. hah.. you’re just–mmn–big.” Whimpers start to escape his lips, even with how he’s biting it so hard.

“If you can’t handle it, we don’t have to push it–”

“No! I mean.. no, please.. you’re not all the way in yet, are you? I can take it.. I think.”

The way his eagerness mixed with trepidation had a certain charm to it. He’s always like this—never letting his fears or the unknown sway him. With a soft sigh, you start to thrust yourself in further. “Alright then, relax yourself, darling. You’re doing so good.”

Soon enough, you fully bottomed out inside him, his inner walls clinging to your entire length. "Tell me when you’re ready," you continued, your fingers brushing tenderly against his cheek, tracing the delicate curve of his jawline, “We’ll go at your pace.” His lips parted slightly, a shaky sound escaping as he adjusted to the moment.

Kabukimono nodded, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief second before meeting yours again. "I... I think I'm ready," he said, his voice a mix of hesitation and trust.

You smiled gently, leaning in to press a reassuring kiss to his forehead. "Tell me if it’s too much, okay?" With that, you began to move, mindful of his every reaction, ensuring that he felt safe and cherished.

You start out slow, letting him savor the intimate atmosphere the both of you created. His legs hung loosely around your waist, his body rocking back and forth with every gentle thrust you give. If Kabukimono were to tell the truth, he was waiting for you to hit that perfect spot inside him again—the same one your fingers touched earlier.

He gasped everytime your cock slid back in, even with how deliberate your pace is, it’s enough to break his composure. “M-More..♡ ngh.. don’t stop..♡♡” He’d tell you every now and then, coaxing you to speed up and finally strike that one chord that’s waiting for you.

With his timid voice breaking through the stillness, you paused for a moment, searching his gaze for any hesitation. Finding none, you offered a soft smile, leaning close to murmur against his ear, "As you wish."

Responding to his request, you picked up the pace, your movements steady yet attentive to his every reaction. His fingers clung to you tighter, his breath hitching in rhythm with each motion. “You're doing a good job, sweetheart.” you praised, pressing a kiss to his temple, his soft whimpering a melody you couldn’t get enough of.

Sounds of skin to skin slapping against each other echoes in the room, as well as Kabukimono’s increasing moans. “Ah–ah–ah! Mnhgh feels shoooHNGAHh!♡♡” Finally, your cock has found his prostate once more.

“R-Riggnht theree..!!♡♡” He babbled incoherently, no longer in the right state of mind to tell you how good he’s feeling. You didn’t mind, just the way his inner walls were clenching around you was enough as it is.

The puppet soon becomes a writhing mess underneath you, clinging to your neck with his arms and his legs to your waist, locking and pulling you closer. His eyes have rilled to the back of his head, wanton moans unable to be suppressed.

Your movements quickened, but your care for Kabukimono didn’t waver. His cock bounced in between your stomach and his; every sound he made, every quiver of his body, only encouraged you to shower him with more reassurance.

“You’re incredible,” you whispered, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “So beautiful, so perfect for me.” His hands tightened their grip on your shoulders, his wide eyes filled with both vulnerability and a spark of exhilaration.

“Good boy, taking me so well,” you affirmed without hesitation, kissing the corner of his lips before continuing. “I love you, darling. Always.”

His chest rose and fell rapidly, his body responding instinctively to your touch and your words. “Lov– angh♡♡ yes.. I love you–nnmore, ah!♡” he replied shakily, his voice barely audible.

Kabukimono’s body trembled with every touch, his breathing shallow and erratic as if he were teetering on the edge of something overwhelming. You kept your pace steady, giving him the space he needed while still encouraging him to let go. “You’re almost there, I can feel it,” you murmured, your words a blend of encouragement and affection.

Kabukimono’s head tilted back as he let out a breathless sound, and his hands tightened around you. “I—ah—I feel somethinggh..!” he stuttered, his voice almost breaking under the pressure of the moment.

“Good,” you replied, your own voice tinged with excitement, not just for the pleasure of it, but for the emotional connection of this moment. “That’s it. Let go with me, Kabu.”

With that, Kabukimono’s body tightened around you, his small cock coming untouched. Strings of warm cum spurting out of the slit, landing to his stomach. You followed suit, your movements slowing as you both rode out the euphoric high, clinging to one another as you basked in the aftermath.

The room was silent save for the soft sounds of your heavy breathing, the tension in the atmosphere soon easing down.

After a few moments of silence, you leaned down to kiss him gently on the forehead, brushing a lock of his indigo hair away from his face. “You did so well, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”

He looked up at you, his indigo eyes soft and dazed, the lingering shyness and vulnerability still there. “‘m tired.. but good..” he whispered, his voice barely audible but full of emotion.

You chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Then let’s rest for now. We’ll clean up when you’re feeling better,” You spoke softly, caressing his scalp as his eyelids flutter close.

“Thank you.. I love you.”

“I love you.”

[bunni-v1]

Hello! Can I request full nsfw alphabet with jade? Afab and fem reader too please. Thank you!

🍓Jade is done as well (YAYYY!!!!) You're one of like six people to ask for him, but you were the first so I chose you. You're welcome. Anyway this isn't edited, and I feel like this doesn't need to be said, but Jade is like nineteen here in accordance to my rules. Anyway have a good day love you all <3

Jade NSFW Alphabet!

A = Aftercare: Jade is, and there is no easy way to put this, very fucking strange. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s not from land (this hardly seems like an excuse, because Azul is fantastic with aftercare), but he is very weird about aftercare. Not in the fact that he doesn’t do it, nor that he doesn’t want to do it, he’s just… ritualistic about it. He has a routine set for it: First, he ensures any marks will be very visible on you – if they are not he will fix that. Don’t worry. Second, after you are nice and claimed, he will take you to his bathroom and make sure the two of you are nice and clean. He insists that you use his shampoo and body wash, and if you don’t he pouts in that creepy way he does until you give in. Finally, he grabs you a set of matching pajamas he bought specifically for when you stay over at his, and you two cuddle and talk before falling asleep. You have to talk though, he won’t have it if you don’t converse a little. It has to be just like that, or else he gets irritated and he will give you the silent treatment. He’s petty.

B = Body Part: Starting with himself, I imagine Jade finds his hands to be his best asset. His fingers are long and slim, and he takes very good care of them. Nails are trimmed short and usually painted a pretty teal, but all around, they are rather pretty. They are a little calloused on the tips from his hikes, but it’s hardly noticeable unless they're scraping over your sides. With you, though, Jade has a very hard time choosing. There’s just so much to like! It’s your ass, Jade likes your ass. It’s just a lovely little thing to him, soft and round and perfect for grabbing, especially around others. Copping a feel in front of Azul and hearing that little squeak is such a satisfying sensation.

C = Cum: I have a feeling a lot of my Jade takes may be controversial, and this may be one of them. I think a lot of people imagine he’s a clean freak, which he is, but like… he’s not a germaphobe or anything. He lives with Floyd. With that being said, uhm, Jade likes it messy <3 Like dripping down the legs, staining the sheets, drawing on your skin kinda messy. His cum is also really unique, because of his origins. It’s tinted like a blueish color, and it’s very thick. He doesn’t make you swallow it usually because it’s hard to get down and there’s a lot, always a lot. It’s also salty because he has a high salt content in his blood. (Yes. It glows.)

D = Dirty Secret: You’re not gonna like this one, I can tell you that now. Jade is an exhibitionist and does not care where he has sex, he just wants to have it when he wants it. (He’s spoiled rotten). He’d never fuck you in the busy rush hour at the monstro lounge, of course. The average customer shouldn’t even think about seeing you in such a vulnerable state. However, he wouldn’t mind if Floyd or Azul or some random person happened to stumble upon you in a storage closet. He doesn’t want them to join, because he’d 100% cut their hands off if they touched you, he just wants to… assert to them his relationship with you. Yeah, that’s all.

E = Experience: He doesn’t strike me as very experienced, or like the type to even seek out sex outside of a dedicated relationship. So you are most likely his first sexual and romantic partner, not that you can tell. He’s very attentive and exceptionally good at his job of pleasuring you. Even if he is bad, he’s a very quick learner, so he picks things up easily and fast for you.

F = Favorite Position: Jade likes control, so any position where he has full control over you and your body is heaven to him. He also likes to look at you, just to study your face and make you squirm under his gaze. So something like the valedictorian, where your legs are pinned out in a V, or pretty much anything where your legs are over his shoulder so you can’t squirm as much. Big fan of the prone bone for the same reasons, though he doesn’t like not seeing you.

G = Goofy: Jade isn’t… goofy, per se… but he doesn’t take sex super seriously. He finds sex to be amusing, especially human sex. Mer sex is different, less physical or intimate, so it's all new and exciting to him. He will absolutely chuckle and joke, but it’s always to tease you and make you all flustered. So yes? Kinda? Not really though.

H = Hair: We know Jade is well-groomed. He keeps it nice and short and shaved, just a little tuft of teal, mostly for asthetics. 

I = Intimacy: He’s not typically all that romantic during. Like I said before, sex is mostly a fun, interesting thing for him. Sure he likes you close and loves to watch your reactions but that's less of a romantic thing and more of a he’s a predator and you’re his prey thing. Still, he has his moments. Like when he’s about to cum he’ll press his forehead to yours (or to your back) and whisper out that he loves you so very much and that you’re so amazing for him.

J = Jack Off: Like… never. 1) He doesn’t have much of a sex drive to start. 2) He’s only ever turned on by something you do, maybe just the thought of you. 3) If he’s ever in a situation where he is turned on and you’re not around or you’re busy… well you won’t be separated for long! He just doesn’t like the act, unlike his brother, and especially doesn’t like wasting his ahem seed when it would do much better inside of you.

K = Kink: Okay so I’ve already established he’s a bit of an exhibitionist, but he’s also a voyeur. Like, please get yourself off while he watches you struggle and whine for him, it’s one of his favorite hobbies. He’s a sadist (obviously) and loves to see you squirm and uncomfortable (to the extent that you’re comfortable with, of course). He is also big into marking, no shit, he’s so possessive it would be insane if he wasn’t into marking you up. I’m gonna be honest, and again people may hate me for this, but he’s probably into Consensual Non-Consent so long as the two of you set up firm boundaries and safe words beforehand. (He’s a sadist, but he’d never fucking hurt his partner. His mama taught him better than that.)

L = Location: His favorite place is obviously his bedroom. Seeing you on his sheets is just a sight that cannot be beat. But other than that… anywhere with a little risk. Storage closets, the bathrooms, hell he’s even fucked you on Azul’s office couch. Pretty much down with any place so long as he can keep you nice and hidden if you do get caught. (Lord help the guy who gets a peek at you naked).

N = No: There’s not really anything Jade hasn’t thought of trying. One thing he ruled out very quickly, though, was sharing. He’s not a fan of sharing things, especially not things as cute and precious to him as you. So if you ever suggest it, he’ll probably kill the person you were considering bringing in.

O = Oral: He is big on receiving, sorry gang, he’s not big on giving. The sight of your lips wrapped around him, drool and cum dripping down your chin, it’s like a dream to our little freak. When he does give though, he’s pretty damn good. I mean, all it takes is one or two times and he’s got you down like a book. Be careful, though, he’s known to nip if you squirm too much.

P = Pace: Jade is pretty slow all things considered. While sex is fun for him, he loves making things slow and incredibly excruciating for you. Do you want to cum? Too bad, Jade’s adamant about slowly pulling out inch by inch just to slowly slide in the same. Sometimes, though, he’ll randomly swap to a bruising pace just to see how you react.

Q = Quickie: If it isn’t obvious by now, yes he’s into quickies. They’re not his favorite, okay, he likes to take his time… but if he wants sex he’s gonna get it, even if it has to be fast. Besides, the thrill of nearly being caught is enough to make the experience all worth it for him.

R = Risk: Duh. Yes, Jade loves risk-taking, and he’s willing to do anything (except share) once to see how you both like it. All you have to do is ask, talk it over, and then you’ll try and implement it. 

S = Stamina: Jade can go for a really long time, but once he cums he’s pretty much out of commission. He’s so good at self-control, but keeping himself from cumming takes a lot out of him, so once he does he can’t go again. Usually, the two of you have one really long round, then it’s all tending to each other and sweet words until you knock out.

T = Toys: He does! I don’t think he’s the biggest fan of them, but if he really wants to stretch things out he’s 100% bringing out his toys. They’re all designed to aid in pleasure, but not allow you to cum, and they’re all remote-controlled. He likes to stuff you with one and send you on your way so he can mess with you throughout the day.

U = Unfair: I don’t need to answer this. (See all of the above lol)

V = Volume: Jade is quiet, he doesn’t make much noise if any at all. He’d rather hear your voice, so he keeps himself to a minimum. You’ll hear a few sighs and purrs of pleasure, but that’s all you’ll get other than his comments about how cute you are under him.

W = Wild Card: He likes being marked up too, but he won’t tell anyone that. He doesn’t want anyone else to see the marks, because to him they’re his own little trophies of being a good partner, but he loves them.

X = X-Ray: Jade is average, about 5.8 inches flaccid and 6 inches hard. It’s really pretty though, pale like him and his tip is flushed a baby pink that could make you jealous. He’s thinner than most, and it doesn’t have many veins. 

Y = Yearning: His sex drive is actually rather low, there isn’t much that turns him on outside of you, and it’s rare that he gets turned on in the first place. Usually when you’re being particularly argumentative or cute, he starts feeling a little hot and bothered. Z = Zzz: He’s usually tired afterward, but like I said he needs his little chat. So he doesn’t fall asleep fast at all, usually able to keep himself up to take care of you and himself.

[iichfilwypj]

loved | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of ares! reader ღ warnings: hurt/comfort! (for the ones that are so so angry) ღ wc: 720 this is clearly about me guys

“Percy, you don’t understand!” 

Her shouts shattered the silence of the forest; the birds seemed to have fled the moment they arrived, and the forest nymphs hid within their trees, unwilling to get involved.

“You’re right!” His voice was edged with frustration and anger as he followed her, but instead of looking threatening, he looked almost pitiable. "I don’t!"

There was a raw, painful gleam in his eyes, one she chose to ignore -although it proved her point.

“Why can’t you talk to me? Tell me what is wrong, please.” He begged. “I love you.”

No. 

Not those words. 

They were precisely the ones she didn’t want to hear. 

The weight they pressed onto her chest was overwhelming, and she didn’t think she could bear it any longer. 

He was the sweetest and kindest boy in camp, effortlessly funny and charming with everyone –how could someone like him love someone like her?

“That’s the thing.” Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, crescent-shaped marks forming in her palms. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stopped to turn toward him. “You can’t love me!” 

And he flinched. He fucking flinched at her.

But she didn’t care.

“I’m mean! I’m mean, and violent, and aggressive. I’m insecure, quiet, narcissistic. I have anger issues, stupids outbursts, I curse all the fucking the time! I’m not-” She took a deep breath, trying to quell the anger boiling inside her.

She was unlovable.

“Percy, I can’t make you happy. I don’t know how you expect this-” She gestured toward the space between them, which seemed to close with each tentative step he took. “-to work, I am not good for y-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” 

Now it was her turn to flinch as he stepped closer, his hands gripping her shoulders firmly. 

He was staring into her eyes as if he could see right through her, peeling back her defenses to uncover the truth she kept hidden –something she sensed he had been doing for far too long. 

“Don’t tell me what’s good for me or not.”

She could only stay silent.

What else could she do with that sight in front of her? A sight that wasn’t made for her, that felt so foreign for her.  

Those green eyes looked at her with a love she was sure she didn’t deserve, and those hands brushed against her skin as if they could see something good within her that she had buried.

“I know you, and I know how you feel. Like you don’t deserve the good things that happen to you, like you’re not good enough, like you’re a burden in everyone else’s life." One of his hands moved to cup her cheek. "Like you are a bad person.” 

She almost laughed; well, he was really laying bare her entire life with his words. 

“I don’t know who made you think all of that, but please, I’m begging you, don’t believe them.”

“That's the thing,” Percy leaned closer to her to show he was paying attention, but it was almost impossible to get any closer. “No one said anything; I just know it.”

As she closed her eyes, he observed her. Before him stood his favorite person in the world, unraveling before his eyes.

And he couldn’t stand to see it happen.

“You are the purest person in the whole world. From the first moment I saw you, I was wrapped around your finger. My mother is tired of hearing your name, my room is fed up with me sprawled out, holding your photo, and my mind is consumed by thoughts of you –there is no space for anything else. ” 

The words flowed from his lips as if they were the most natural thing in the world, and the effect they had on her was overwhelming.

She felt the boy’s hands on her face, gently wiping away the tears she didn't know were there –he knew how much she hated being seen while crying.

When she finally dared to open her eyes, something clicked inside her as she was met with the prettiest shade of green.

She had never felt this way in her life, so free, so safe.

And despite the fear swirling within her, she wanted to try –to try with him.

“You are not mean, you are not a bad person, you are not something that is wrong."

His hands were so, so soft on her cheeks that she could've died.

But she didn't; she felt more alive than ever.

"You live, you act and you feel so, so much. You don’t have to be perfect to be loved, you have to be you. That would be enough for me.” She smiled at him, momentarily at a loss for words.

In response, she leaned in closer, pressing a soft, salty kiss to his lips. 

And she felt like she deserved it, like it was meant to happen. And maybe it was.

She felt so, so loved.

hi!! this is how i feel daily lately and i am so scared of telling someone! but i hope you like it!

[lisacameron99]

Second (JJ x reader) (outer banks)

warning: angst, fighting, fluff, fluffy ending, feelings of insecurity, nakedness but no sex, illusions to sex

“I’m late, I know I’m late,” JJ said, rushing into the house. You stayed silent. There wasn’t much to say. “You’re soaked… did you walk?”

“Yeah, JJ. I didn’t want to stay on The Cut all night.” You deadpanned.

“Why didn’t you call somebody?”

“I did JJ! I called you! Pope! Kie! Johnny! Even Sarah. But nobody answered. Too busy helping John B find dad!”

“… Y/N…” JJ said, guilt swimming in his eyes.

“I mean, God, JJ. I don’t think I asked a lot when I asked you to pick me up.” JJ swallowed hard. He knew he fucked up. He knew he did. But they were so close on finding Big John, “And you don’t have anything to say because you know I’m right.” There was a beat of silence. “I’m going to shower. You should go back to Johnny, because he clearly needs you more than you think I need you.”

“Babe,” JJ ran a hand through his hair and over his jaw.

“Just - just - don’t.” You were growing more frustrated. “I’m going to take a shower.” You dragged yourself to the bathroom, piling you clothes by the sink. Stepping into the shower, you had it on the hottest setting your body could handle. The water pressure wasn’t the best, but you loved your little shower. Tears ran down your face, but you knew JJ wasn't going to be able to tell the difference between the tears and the water when it was on your face.

You prolonged your shower, longer than you normally would have, just so you could think everything through. Johnny was just going to have to suck it up and pay the water bill. JJ was sitting on the toilet, fiddling with his hat. He just wanting to be near you. You knew he did it as much for himself as he did you. You both thrived on both quality time and physical touch.

He handed you your towel when you opened the old curtain. “Thanks,” you muttered, squeezing your hair out and watching the drops hit the floor. You wrapped the towel around your body, drying yourself off.

You guys both made your way to the room you shared, and JJ threw an old shirt of his at you. Because you weren’t paying attention, it hit you smack in the face and fell on the floor. You stared at it before looking back to JJ. Your e/c met his blue and you both burst into laughter. JJ snagged it off the ground and pulled it over your head. A smile graced both of your faces as your eyes met.

“Hi,” you said softly.

“Hey.” He returned the gesture. You blinked, still keeping your eyes on his blue ones. After a few beats, he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

You shrugged, trying not to think about the stinging feeling in your chest. "It's fine." You said shortly.

"It's not." JJ said, rubbing your arms. "It's not fine. I told you I'd be there and I wasn't. I'm sorry."

"Well, it's done and over with now." You shrugged again before sitting on the bed. "No sense in dwelling on it."

"You think John B matters more than you do. And that's just not true." JJ responded. "I love John B, he's my brother. Always has been, always will be. But you matter to me. I love you. And I'm sorry that I made you feel as though you are less than him."

Tears welded up in your eyes. "I'm just very tired of this happening. JJ, I literally called you five times. I called Kie twice, Sarah twice, Pope twice, and Johnny three times and none of you answered. I mean, I work all the time because I have to keep groceries in the house, and the mortgage and the electricity bills paid for. Johnny takes care of the water and gas and what not, and you always, always, always do what you can, but I'm tired of being made second best just because I'm keeping us afloat."

"I'm sorry." JJ whispered, beginning to pace around the room. "I'm so so sorry." JJ sighed, mad at himself for making you feel low about yourself. "I love you, Y/N. More than I've ever loved anybody. I'm sorry that I'm bad at showing it, and I'm really sorry that I left you at The Cut today."

"I love you too, JJ. But we need to be better at being there for each other when we commit to each other." JJ pulled you to your feet and hugged you too him. Face planted against his shoulder, you wrapped your arms tightly around his waist. He threaded one hand through your hair and the other around your shoulders. You stood there hugging each other tightly for a few moments before words came to JJ.

"You don't need to be better at it, you already are great at it. I need to be better. And I will be."

You nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Let's go to bed, yeah?" JJ asked you, gesturing to the bed.

You nodded, flopping on the bed. JJ went to go on his side of the bed, but you dragged him to be on top of you.

When his eyes glanced up at you, you gave him a soft smile. "Hi."

"Hi yourself." He placed his mouth on yours and kissed you deeply. You both pressed into each other, trying to feel as much of each other as possible. Your hands ran through his hair, clutching tightly while his rans down your sides and planted themselves on your hips.

You finally pulled yourself away from JJ, panting as he kissed down your neck. What a perfect way to end the night, you thought to yourself, as JJ kissed further down. Make up sex was so underrated.

End.

lmk if you all want a part two!

[nvtstvrns]

Tell Me How- Matt sturniolo

Fluff, soft!Matt soft!reader

Summary: y/n is about 3 months pregnant and she’s starting to get really miserable and frustrated with Matt and she feels overstimulated any time he tries to talk to her or do something with her, so he urges her to tell him what’s wrong

Contains: vomit inducing fluff, soft!Matt, non married couple, pregnancy, overstimulation, anxiety, fear

Note from me: I am still writing fluff!!!

Divider creds: @bernardsbendystraws

I was laying in the passenger seat of Matt’s car and he had is hand on my stomach, which was carrying a baby. He kept rubbing circles on my belly trying to comfort me.

“Matt, babe I love you but can you stop touching me?” I ask pushing his hand away. He glances over at me and puts his hand back on the steering wheel.

“Yeah…sorry sweetheart.” He says tapping his hands on the steering wheel.

When we finally got home I pick myself up and get out of the car. While standing I get a cramp and Matt puts his hand on my back trying to stabilize me.

“Matt, I can do it by myself. Stop.” And with that I walk in the house and go straight to Matt’s room laying down in his bed. Every time that he checks on me I ignore him and pretend to be asleep. Around 11 he comes into his room to go to bed.

“Y/n? Are you still up?” He asks tapping my shoulder.

“Yeah, what do you want.” I ask sitting up and resting on the pillows.

“You’ve been so irritable all day, what’s wrong?” When I’m completely silent he tries again. “Is it something I did?”

I look at him with tears in my eyes. “I’m scared Matt. I’m scared to have this baby.” I say looking down at my lap. “I’m way too overwhelmed and I’m just…”

“No baby, I get it, well not really but I mean I understand the feeling.” He tells me. He places his hand on my chin and he makes me face him. He wipes my tears.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to the baby…” I say running a hand through my hair.

“You don’t have to worry, I’m going to be there the entire time. I promise you don’t have to worry about me or the baby. You’re safe and you’re gonna have a healthy little boy or girl.” He says rubbing circles on my hand that he was holding onto.

“You think so?”

“No baby, I know so. You’re gonna be such a good mom and I’m gonna try my best to be the best father ever.” He says pressing his forehead against mine.

“I fucking love you Matt.” I say as he kisses my forehead. I watch him grin and he chuckles a little bit.

“I love you too. Now get some rest, your body’s going through a lot.”

[kristiliqua]

by the way ,

if you do not support palestine , get the fuck out .

/srs . you cannot be neutral on a genocide , and i’m sure as hell not going to let any pro-israel motherfuckers in here . get the fuck out . i don’t want you here , ever . thanks :)

[princessbrunette]

I don't know if you had already answered this on your blog, but I was wondering would any of the girls be friends? Like I'm talking kitty, puppy, deer, lamb, and bunny. In my head I always pictured Kitty and Puppy being best friends and Bunny being more of an outsider because she's with Rafe.

this is interesting !! let me dissect all of ‘em <3

bunny:

you’re right — no one really wants to be friends with the poor girl because she’s rafe’s ride or die, and well — who trusts rafe? on first glance, they all would assume she’s just as wicked and evil as her boyfriend, but it would only take one interaction with her to know she’s not at all. i think with all the girls, their view on bunny shifts from being suspicious, to being pitying very quickly. whilst i don’t think they’d even get close enough to be friends, the general consensus of her would be “shes so sweet, idk what she sees in rafe.” or “we need to get her out of there!”

if she’s gonna make an unlikely companionship with anyone, it would be a universe where lamb!reader is dating one of the pogues. her and lamb come from similar kooky upbringings, and their complete opposite ways of presenting themselves would make for an interesting and hilarious dynamic. bunny teaches lamb about all the girl things she’d been deprived of, and lamb applies biblical meaning to bunny’s life lessons. she also thinks rafe is the devil but that’s a story for another day.

kitty:

whilst kitty and puppy would be a funny dynamic — and it works, as traditionally pup is with john b and kitty is with jj, my favourite friendship pairing might have to be kitty and deer. kitty feels less responsible for deer like she might with puppy, and as they both have super niche interests and ways of being, they’d have a lot to talk about.

my favourite thing about their dynamic would be the way they handle confronting situations. they’re both big people watchers, often silently floating around, wide eyed and unnervingly observant — however when the attention is drawn to them in a negative light, deer is quick to flee — upset and terrified of confrontation, whereas kitty will stay, tense up and run her mouth protectively of herself and her friend. she may be quiet but she can be lethal when provoked.

puppy:

puppy would get along with anyone, as she’s super friendly and sociable. in the most versatile way, she adapts to the needs of her friend — meaning if she’s hanging out with deer, she knows she’ll be doing a lot of the yapping whilst deer listens and observes before giving advice or an opinion. with kitty, it’s a yap off, the two of them always having alot to say. i can’t really see pup and mouse crossing paths, and i don’t think lamb would particularly take to her.

i am aware i said bunny wouldn’t be around many other readers, but other than lamb, if anyone will break through it’s pup. she and bun have the same energetic, sexually charged ditsy ways, so i think around eachother they’d be able to unapologetically be themselves and treat the world as their playground. their friendship would be less about sitting and talking and more about running around getting into chaos and spending money on rafes card. in another world they’re f4f gfs.

mouse:

i’ve spoken of this many times, but an underrated yet unstoppable duo is mouse and kitty. they enable eachother in the worst ways, mouse teaching kitty how to not get caught when shop lifting, kitty teaching mouse how to fuck, smoke cigs and mouth off (shes too shy to do the last, and lets kitty fight many of her battles)

they spend alot of time together, perhaps to the point of being completely codependent, never seen without the other. kitty was even there the first time mouse had sex, holding her hand. they bicker, but it’s because they care about eachother.

[malcolm-reeds-pineapple]

When I was growing up the cops got called on my family like a bit but not too much like it was never all the time but I was always the little girl crying on the couch while The Horrors happened around me so one cop was always just assigned to Deal With Me and I knew they were trying to get information out of me but cops were The Enemy so I’d just infodump about my interests at them and I liked watching them desperately try to steer me in the Direction of The Horrors but they couldn’t get a word in edgewise cuz they’d activated my trap card: being a new set of ears that I hadn’t talked off about Green Day

[milkstoner]

I don't have an insta 😔

I do have to respect that honestly.

[southislandwren]

Yeah I was fucking right by the way, he’s liked me since like last year and I’ve liked him since October so I really could’ve done something about this sooner, and also he’s not homophobic or transphobic yayyyyy