#and now i feel like i am catching up on some things such as with Morrowind or the pre-bethesda Fallout games

[ellieputellas]

can you write roommate!alexia smut

caught in the act | a. putellas x reader

— You catch your roommate Alexia touching herself to your photos.

tags: roommate!Alexia, barçaB!reader, smut, masturbation, mentions of fingering, mention of age gap, a bit of degradation and dirty talk, not proofread 🔞 wc: 2k+

Alexia hated having you as a roommate.

It wasn't because of the fact that you had a bad habit of putting off washing the dishes until the next morning; she learned to deal with it and wash them for you whenever it did bother her. It also wasn't because you were always watching Netflix past midnight, at full volume while she tried to get enough sleep for early morning training the next day, fully knowing the walls between your rooms were paper thin. She's learned to fall asleep to the sound of Brooklyn 99 or whatever American TV show you were addicted to at the time. It wasn’t even the fact that she’d have to set her alarm at least 30 minutes ahead of the usual time she’d wake up just so she could force you out of bed so you could both attend your respective training sessions on time.

Instead, she hated how oblivious and clueless you were to how she felt about you.

Just now, there you were in the living room watching a dumb show on Netflix as you simultaneously swiped on Bumble. She hated seeing you looking at other girls, or even getting all dolled up for dates with other girls.

She knew your type. You liked tall, fellow athletes with great style. She wondered why you never noticed her when she fit your type so well. She rolled her eyes at the sight of you fiddling with the dating app and just wanted to return to her room but you already noticed her presence.

"Hey, Alexia." You said calmly. “Come over here.”

She sighed. "Yeah?"

"What do you think about her?" You said as you chewed on the chips you were loudly snacking on. (That was another thing Alexia let you get away with — snacking everywhere and anywhere leading to a mild ant problem.)

Alexia sat beside you on the couch and leaned in to look at your phone. It was someone from Levante’s B team. Alexia frowned. She had to admit. This girl was undeniably hot with her tattoos and fit body but she knew she looked just as good as this player. If not that, she sure as hell was a better player. That should have been some merit to her.

"She’s okay..." It was all she could say to you. She didn’t want to come off as the jealous roommate.

"Really? I kinda think she's smoking hot." You said with a confused look. “She’s the hottest player I’ve played against on the pitch.”

Alexia rolled her eyes and wanted to make a snide comment but let it slide.

“She asked me out after we switched shirts after our match, and I smelled her shirt and it smelled good as fuck.” You shared, making Alexia roll her eyes again. “Plus, she’s taller than I am and you know how that’s my type… but our texts have been stale and boring as fuck.”

Alexia shrugged and tried to focus on the show you were shamelessly ignoring already. “Then just don’t go out with her.”

You sighed. “Yeah… but there is this rookie footballer I matched with on Bumble, she plays for…” You continued to tell Alexia about the other girls you were talking to but she just didn’t give a fuck.

She didn’t wanna know anything about the other girls you were seeing while she’s been into you for so long.

"Anyway, can you help me pick photos from my weekend trip with Emma? She's so great at taking photos that I feel like I have to make two separate posts on instagram just to include all of my hot photos." You said before giving your phone to Alexia. "Just swipe through them and heart all the photos you like."

As soon as she grabbed your phone, she felt her body heat up. The first photo of you was you in front of the pool with your arms up, laughing gleefully. You were wearing the tiniest bikini with a bra top just big enough to cover your nipples and that incredibly skimpy underwear.

All Alexia could think about was pushing them to the side and fucking you hard with her fingers.

Alexia blinked. "You're so...." She couldn't find the words. "Naked?"

You laughed at the older woman’s reaction. "That's all you could say?"

Alexia ignored you, completely fixated by the photos of you. Alexia liked the first photo and proceeded to swipe. The second photo was you with your back turned, exposing your ass. Alexia could feel her mouth salivate as the dirtiest thoughts entered her mind. She kept scrolling, admiring every curve and crevice of your body. She loved the way your boobs spilled over your bra and the way your thong rode up your ass and accentuated your perfect hips. She loved your collarbones but she loved the thought of marking them with her mouth more.

She was practically liking every photo, unable to think objectively of what works on Instagram or whatever. She loved seeing you this exposed.

"You never dress like this usually." Alexia commented, still going back and forth with your photos. She was pretending to be analytical with your photos but her mind was just filled with obscenities.

You huffed. “You only see me in a kit or here at home when I dress like a slob. You don’t know what I dress like.”

Alexia furrowed her eyebrows. “I’ve seen you get dressed up for dates. You’re not usually so…” She shook her head. “Whatever. I never would have imagined you’d like wearing something so tiny.”

Alexia had to swallow as her mouth had been watering at the sight of your photos. You chuckled, oblivious to your roommate's reaction. "Well, you would know that I actually do love tiny swimwear if only you went swimming with us more.”

Alexia took a mental note to say yes to every opportunity to see you in a skimpy bikini. "Still, you never post stuff like this. You only ever post game photos or food photos. This is just out of character for you.” She added on. "You must be posting to impress someone, huh?"

You furrowed your eyebrows and rolled your eyes at her. "I feel like I’m just more grown now. Like, grown enough to post more skin.” You explained. “Besides, can’t I post for myself?”

Wish you would post for me, Alexia thought.

You looked over at Alexia who was still looking through your photos. "God, what's taking you so long? Mesmerized by my tits?"

"You're so cocky." It was all Alexia could say as she blushed. She felt like it was so wrong to be thirsting over her younger roommate like this but she couldn’t help it. You were exactly what she wanted.

You chuckled. "I told you. Emma took really good photos of me! I know I look hot in those."

You looked through the photos Alexia liked and realized the only photos of you she didn't like were the ones where you were covered up. You stifled a chuckle. "Okay, I guess I should post these immediately since it would be so selfish of me to deprive the world of these photos any longer."

"So arrogant." Alexia scoffed under her breath but unbeknownst to you, it turned her on. She loved it when you got all confident. It made her want to praise you and degrade you at the same time. "I'm going back to my room to review some things for some brand deal. Text me if you wanna order food or cook for dinner later."

You absentmindedly nodded as you typed up the perfect Instagram caption and chose the perfect thirst-trap song to go with the Instagram post.

Alexia headed back in her room and immediately pulled out her iPad, refreshing her Instagram feed incessantly. "C'mon, c'mon..." She muttered under her breath. "Just post already."

Finally, your post popped up.

Alexia felt like she couldn't breathe as she was finally able to get a better look at them through the bigger screen. She was finally free to zoom in to your perfectly shaped tits without worrying you'd see. She bit her lip.

It was almost a built-in instinct or bodily response to her the way she immediately positioned herself in front of her iPad; she wasted no time. She propped the device on her bed, blasted a song loud enough to mask her noise, swiftly took off her bottoms, and eventually, guided her hands to feel her own slick with her fingers. She was soaked already just from seeing you.

"Fuck," She muttered as she began rubbing herself, looking at the photo of you on her device. She wished she could have a gigantic TV screen just so she could see more of you at a bigger scale. She wanted to be overwhelmed by the sight of you — to be consumed by your beauty.

She rubbed her clit in circles as she kept her eyes glued on the screen. She cursed again. She thought about your tits. She wondered how they'd feel in her hands. She wanted to feel the softness against her rough and imposing hands; she wanted to know if that kind of touch would make you whimper. She wondered what colors your nipples were and how they'd look and feel... and taste. She so badly wanted to push her tongue against them.

Her legs shivered as she imagined taking your breast in her mouth, sucking on it mercilessly as you moaned under her.

In reality, Alexia was alone in the darkness of her room — her tanned skin illuminated by the sole source of light from her device that blasted music to mask her grunts and the obscene sounds of her wetness.

But in her imagination, Alexia was in your room on top of you, sucking on your breasts as she positioned her knee against your core. In her imagination, you loved to beg and whine. So there you were, underneath her, squirming as she sucked on your nipple and used her hands to play with the other one. She just could tell you were the sensitive type and the idea of you almost teary-eyed due to sheer pleasure caused by her made her even wetter.

She opened her eyes once again to catch a glimpse of you in that one photo where you had a serious face as you slightly bent over. She groaned as she caught sight once again of the flesh of your boobs pressing against the fabric of your bikini. "Fucking whore." It escaped her mouth in a grunt.

In her imagination, you were dressed in the same skimpy bikini. She had your bra cups pushed to the side to grant her easy access to lick all over your boobs, leaving the occasional mark whenever she desired.

"Please, Alexia." She could practically hear your voice say it. "Fuck me now."

Alexia plunged her fingers into her cunt, causing her to grunt loudly as she pumped in and out of herself as mercilessly as she would have with you.

She was fixated on the thought of her fingers thrusting so hard in and out of you that your tits jiggled with every thrust. Alexia somehow felt you were the type to moan loudly, grab your own tits, and beg to fuck her deeper.

"Alexia! Fuck me!"

"You want me so bad, huh? You fucking slut?" She groaned under her breath, almost breathless and winded from how rough she was fucking herself. "I'll fuck you so hard, you'd go stupid."

"Alexia, harder! Please!" The imaginary voice in her brain told her. It felt so realistic

"Yeah?" She called out your name, almost in the form of an animalistic grunt. "You fucking want it harder? You a fucking slut for me?"

She increased the speed of her thrusting, causing her to moan loudly in succession. "Fuck," She said, followed by calling out your name. "Tell me who you belong to."

She pumped in and out of herself, causing her to convulse in the building pressure inside her. Her eyes were shut close but the photo of you in your bikini was permanently burned inside her mind.

"I belong to you!" Her imagination called out.

"Say my name then." She groaned.

"Alexia," It sounded so soft and gentle.

"Louder." She growled as she imagined that it was your pussy she was roughly thrusting into. Her legs shook uncontrollably as she felt herself approaching orgasm. “Say it.”

"Alexia?!" It was practically an exclamation. It felt so real that your voice echoed in her ears.

As Alexia opened her eyes, she was met by the sight of you standing at the door of her room with a shocked face. Almost immediately after, Alexia moaned out loud as her orgasm arrived.

It took half a second for her to realize that she wasn't imagining it anymore. You were there, standing and watching her fuck herself while her obnoxiously larged iPad displayed a photo of you.

"Oh shit." She was in trouble.

a/n: not proofread. part 2 anyone? (also thank u for ur requests!)

[goldfades]

ROOKIE ─── PAIGE BUECKERS

request: "paige's gf and she insists on teaching her basketball—even though she's terrible at it. paige spends half the time “coaching” her (aka being flirty) and the other half laughing when she completely miss the basket"

You’re not entirely sure how you ended up here—standing under the hoop on a Saturday afternoon, gripping a basketball like it’s some foreign object you’ve never encountered before.

In your defense, sports have never been your thing. You’re more of a cheer-from-the-bleachers, snack-at-halftime, maybe-ask-what-a-three-pointer-is-later kind of person. And yet, here you are, because your girlfriend, Paige—decided today was the day you’d “learn the fundamentals.”

“Okay, baby, it’s easy,” she says, her voice brimming with the sort of confidence only someone who’s mastered the art of the crossover can pull off. She spins a ball on her finger effortlessly, her grin teasing but somehow still the softest thing you’ve ever seen. “All you gotta do is aim and shoot. No pressure.”

You squint up at the basket. It feels like it’s a mile away. “No pressure?” you deadpan, bouncing the ball once and grimacing when it doesn’t exactly obey. “Do you even know me?”

Paige snickers, sidling closer until she’s standing next to you, her hand on your hip. She’s wearing her usual practice gear: baggy shorts, sneakers laced tight, and a loose shirt that somehow still manages to hint at the muscle underneath. It’s honestly unfair how good she looks while being this annoying.

“Listen,” she says, her tone shifting into something that almost passes for serious. Almost. “I know you. I also know you’re fully capable of putting this ball in that hoop if you just focus and stop looking at me like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

You glance at her, and she’s smirking now, like she knows she’s caught you. Which, to be fair, she has. “First of all,” you mutter, turning back to the basket, “I do want to be here. Second, you’re distracting.”

“Am I?” Her voice is teasing, but you don’t dare look again. You already know she’s doing that thing where she cocks her head just a little and raises her eyebrows like she’s so impressed with herself. “Want me to step back so you can concentrate, rookie?”

“No,” you reply, huffing. “But if you call me rookie one more time, I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna what?” Paige interrupts, leaning down just enough so her lips are by your ear. Her voice drops an octave, and you swear you can feel her grin against your skin. “Miss the basket again?”

You groan, shoving her lightly with your elbow, but the weight of her hand on your hip doesn’t budge. She’s laughing now, full and bright and utterly unapologetic, and despite your best efforts to stay annoyed, you can’t help but crack a smile.

This is going to be a disaster. You can feel it.

You take a step back, spinning the ball once between your hands, trying to look like you’ve got some semblance of control. You absolutely do not. It’s slippery and awkward, and you’re already regretting agreeing to this. Paige watches you with the intensity of a coach but the playfulness of a girlfriend who knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Alright, babe, let’s see what you’ve got,” she says, crossing her arms and leaning back on her heels, all casual and amused. She looks entirely too comfortable with the idea of watching you embarrass yourself.

You square your shoulders and look up at the hoop again, trying to remember the quick, nonsensical explanation Paige gave you about form and aim. Something about “elbows in,” “flicking your wrist,” and “imagining you’re putting cookies in the oven.” Honestly, she lost you after “elbows.”

Paige steps closer, her sneakers squeaking faintly against the court. “Okay, pause,” she says, gently placing her hands on your shoulders to adjust your stance. Her touch lingers a little too long to be entirely innocent, and you glance at her, catching the faintest flicker of her teasing grin. “You’re holding the ball like it’s gonna explode. Relax.”

You loosen your grip, if only slightly, and she takes a step back, nodding approvingly. “Much better. Now, bend your knees. Remember, this isn’t a free throw contest, it’s a rhythm thing. Like dancing.”

“Dancing?” You give her a skeptical look. “You’ve seen me dance. That’s not helping your case.”

“True,” she says, laughing. “But at least you don’t step on anyone’s toes here.” Her hand brushes your lower back, the contact brief but enough to send a little jolt through you. She always does this—throws you off-kilter just enough to make you forget what you were supposed to be doing.

You shake your head, focusing on the hoop again. “Alright, alright. I’m doing it.”

“You’re doing it,” Paige echoes, stepping back into your peripheral vision, her hands on her hips like she’s supervising. “Visualize it going in. Manifest it.”

“Manifest it?” you deadpan. “Are you a basketball player or a yoga instructor?”

“Both, apparently,” she shoots back, laughing again. “Come on, just throw it already.”

You take a deep breath, bend your knees, and, in one fluid (well, semi-fluid) motion, you shoot. The ball arcs through the air in what you think is a promising trajectory… only to miss the basket entirely and bounce harmlessly off the backboard. It rolls lazily away, as if to add insult to injury.

Paige absolutely loses it. She doubles over, clutching her stomach as laughter spills out of her. It’s loud and unrestrained, the kind of laugh that’s so contagious you almost forget why she’s laughing in the first place. Almost.

“Don’t laugh,” you say, but your own voice wobbles with the threat of a giggle. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Paige straightens up, wiping at the corner of her eye dramatically. “Babe, you hit the backboard so hard I think it just filed for workers’ comp.”

“Wow, okay,” you say, rolling your eyes but failing to hide your grin. “This is why I don’t play sports.”

“Oh, come on.” Paige retrieves the ball with a few quick strides, tossing it effortlessly between her hands as she makes her way back to you. She stops just in front of you, holding the ball out. “You’re doing fine. You just need more practice.”

“And by practice, you mean you laughing at me until I cry?” you ask, arching an eyebrow.

“Exactly,” she says with a grin that’s entirely too charming to argue with. “Now, let’s try again. But this time…” She steps behind you, wrapping her arms around you and placing her hands over yours on the ball. “I’m gonna guide you.”

Your breath catches slightly as she leans in, her voice soft and close to your ear. “Okay, elbows in. Knees bent. Don’t think too hard about it. Just feel it.”

It’s a miracle you’re even upright at this point, let alone holding the ball. Her voice is low and encouraging, her arms warm and steady around you, and suddenly, basketball doesn’t seem so terrible.

“Now,” she murmurs, her hands shifting just enough to nudge yours into position. “Shoot.”

You do, and this time, the ball actually arcs in a somewhat respectable manner. It hits the rim and bounces off, but it’s a lot closer than before.

“Progress!” Paige announces, stepping back with a proud smile. “You’re getting there, rookie.”

You groan. “Stop calling me rookie!”

“Never.” She’s already picking up the ball again, twirling it on her finger like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “One more time. Let’s see if we can actually make one.”

“Fine,” you say, holding out your hands. “But if I make this shot, you owe me something.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows raise, her smile turning playful. “Like what?”

“I don’t know yet,” you say, taking the ball and narrowing your eyes at the hoop. “But I’m thinking something big.”

Paige laughs, leaning against the pole of the hoop, her gaze fixed on you. “Deal. But if you miss… I get to call you rookie forever.”

You shake your head, fighting back a smile. “No pressure, right?”

“Exactly,” she says, her grin widening. “No pressure at all.”

You focus on the hoop again, blocking out everything except the promise of finally making this shot—and maybe wiping that smug grin off Paige’s face. With newfound determination, you bend your knees, grip the ball like you actually know what you’re doing, and take the shot.

Time slows down for a second. The ball soars in a near-perfect arc, hits the rim… and bounces around it once, twice, before dropping cleanly through the net with a satisfying swish.

For a moment, you just stand there, stunned. Then it clicks: you made it. You actually made it.

“Oh my god!” you squeal, throwing your hands up in triumph. “Did you see that? I made it! I actually made it!”

Before Paige can even respond, you’re hopping around the court like you just won a championship game. Your excitement is entirely disproportionate to what just happened, but you don’t care. You’re too busy celebrating your hard-won victory, flailing your arms and spinning in a little circle.

Paige leans against the hoop, watching you with a mixture of amusement and adoration. “You’d think you just scored the game-winner at Madison Square Garden,” she teases, but the softness in her voice gives her away.

“This is my moment, Paige!” you shoot back, still grinning like a fool. You stop hopping just long enough to grab her by the shoulders, shaking her slightly. “I made it! I’m a basketball prodigy now. Bow down!”

She laughs, her hands coming up to rest on your waist. “Alright, Michael Jordan, calm down.”

You narrow your eyes at her, playful and determined. “No, you don’t get to laugh. I deserve a reward for this. A big reward.”

Paige arches a brow, her lips curving into a smirk. “Oh, do you now? What kind of reward are we talking about?” Her voice dips into that suggestive tone that always makes your heart skip a beat.

You tap your chin, pretending to think. “Hmm… how about… lunch? I’m starving. And since I’m the champion now, you get to go buy it for me.”

Paige blinks, her smirk faltering. “Lunch?”

“Yup,” you say cheerfully, stepping back and crossing your arms. “From that cute little sandwich place I like. You can’t say no. I earned this.”

Paige stares at you, her expression torn between disbelief and fake betrayal. “You just made the shot of your life, and this is what you ask for? A sandwich?”

“What did you think I was going to ask for?” you counter, cocking your head.

She shrugs, her tone casual but her grin anything but. “I don’t know. Maybe a kiss. Or maybe some leg-shaking, world shattering head.”

“Paige!” You shout at her language, rolling your eyes, though your cheeks heat up at the suggestion. “I just exerted all my physical and emotional energy making that shot. I need food first. Priorities.”

She groans, dragging a hand down her face in mock despair. “You’re killing me here. Fine. But only because I’m impressed you actually made it.”

“Damn right you’re impressed,” you say, puffing out your chest dramatically. “Now go. And don’t forget the extra pickles!”

Paige shakes her head, laughing as she jogs off toward the parking lot. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. You owe me, rookie!”

“Never!” you call after her, grinning as you watch her go.

You sink onto the court, still buzzing with excitement. Sure, basketball might not be your thing, but moments like this? With her? You could get used to them.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[ihrthoney]

you know me

pairings: arkham knight!jason todd x f!reader

warnings: fluff! some mentions of what happened to him in the asylum

word count: 1.9k

an: i hope you guys like it 😅 part 1

Jason had told you he would disappear for a few days, he said he would explain when he came back and until then to quit your job and not leave your house. Before leaving, he gave you a device and told you he would beep it three times to signal you that he was outside of your apartment. 

The night he held you was the only time he had let you so close to him. When you parted to wash your face, he made it clear he wanted to keep a distance between you two. Whenever you walked towards him he would take a step backwards, it stung but you can understand why, the mark on his face was a sign that whatever happened to him was bad. 

The last thing he told you before returning to the shadows was to start packing. Your mind told you he wasn’t the same and that you should be asking questions instead of blindly following him. Yet, the only thing you’ve ever wanted for the past few years was him. Nothing was going to stop you from following him, not even him. 

-

Meanwhile, Jason was at a loss on what to do. Seeing you brought back fond and awful memories. His memory was tainted with the bad things that have happened to him, his childhood, the in-between and the after. But you, you were like a firefly in the quiet meadow, a temporary relief before the world burned around him.

He had been questioning what he should do with you, where his feelings for you still lie. As of right now, he just wants to keep you safe. There’s a battle in his mind, he can’t decide whether he’s happy that you stayed and waited for him or if he should call you foolish for not getting out of Gotham, for putting yourself in danger. The former thought is winning, his heart thumps at the thought of still being remembered as Jason and not the failed robin.

Memories of your time together flash in his mind as he makes his way back to your place; he recognizes the apartment, it’s the one you two planned to move into. You were the one thing he wouldn’t let anyone touch, not then and definitely not now. He can’t ever be the person you so wholly loved but he wants to be someone you can learn to love. 

There are a lot of risks with that, you’d be a constant target, he’d have to either go with you anytime you went in public or simply have whatever you wanted delivered by someone else. The life you had before will be no more, he’s selfish but he hopes you don’t mind.

-

It’s about 3am in the morning when you hear the device beep, you respond back with the code he gave you then go to your window to open it for him (you have a feeling he could open it just fine.)

The night he was in your apartment, he was in all black clothes, now he’s in front of you covered head to toe in thick armor. The suit makes your window seem so fragile, the living room looks much smaller too. 

He clicks his helmet off and gently sets it on the floor, “Are you ready to go?” You can’t tell whether it’s a question or a statement but by the way he’s looking at you, you’re going to guess he’s telling you. 

“Am I allowed to ask where?” He follows you as you check the place for any belongings you may have missed, his heavy footsteps follow you, even in the armor he’s quiet. “A safehouse. Somewhere outside of the city.” After making your rounds, sad you two couldn’t occupy the space, you turn to face him, “Will you be there too?”

The question catches him off-guard, unused to being thought of. Despite the hardness to his eyes, how tense his posture is, the way he speaks to you was like before, gentle and soft. Under all the pain, he was a sweet boy.

To you, he will always be your sweet boy.

“Of course.”

-

Given the time, you fell asleep in the car, waking up in your bed but a different room. It takes a bit to remember the events that have happened. Moving the blankets off of you, you make your way around the safehouse. The layout is similar to your old apartment, it’s comforting but makes you question how he was able to find a place with the same format. 

A click of a door makes you turn and you see Jason in the clothes you saw him in the night he visited you, “I got you some food, we should talk.” 

He places down multiple containers with different food’s inside and a large cup of coffee from your favorite cafe. He remembered. Jason makes his way to sit across from you, a breakfast serving only for one so you ask to which he replies that he already ate. 

Still, like before, you offer him a plate of a little bit of everything in case he’s hungry again or lying about his eating habits. You’re careful to not treat him like nothing happened but not as a stranger either, it’s a strange middle you’re still trying to understand.

“We’ll talk after you eat.” He doesn’t touch the food you offered him but you hope the thought reaches him all the same. There’s a part of you that hopes your boyfriend is still there considering that you were tucked in bed in a new change of clothes, but he keeps you more than an arm’s length away. 

It should be uncomfortable, the way he watches you eat, the man before you is bigger, face sharper, still handsome. His eyes never left you even as you moved to put any leftovers away. Grabbing him a glass of water, you sat in front of him once again. 

“What would you like to know first?” As quick as the movement was, you saw the way his gaze flickered to the side then back up, “Anything you’re comfortable with telling me.”

The ache in his chest comes back, you were his sweetness, you still are and it hurts him to be near you. You were all he dreamed about, amongst other things, when he was trapped in that wing. Words can't explain how relieved he was that the Joker could not touch you or taint your image, you were so dear to him. 

“I followed.. him.. to Arkham’s Asylum, specifically an abandoned wing.” His beautiful eyes no longer looked into your own, instead focusing on the way your fingers fidget, “For almost two years I was tortured.. tied to a chair, hung up by the arms.. I know you saw the scar. There are things I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say out loud… I just wanted him to kill me.”

There’s a pause before he continues, “For months I waited for Batman, I refused to believe he forgot about me, that he replaced me but when I saw that picture.” Silence envelopes the room, it’s thick and he doesn’t say anything for a while, you also knew better than to say anything about how bad Batman’s grief actually was.

Your hand moves to hold his, to comfort him in any way but you’re afraid to push him into silence, but your hesitation is for naught as he grabs your hand and interlinks your fingers together, quietly he says, “I dreamt of you.” The words make you move your gaze from your intertwined hands to his eyes. 

“I missed you so much, yn.” His voice cracks and he looks away, Jason tries to pull his hand from yours but you squeeze them tighter together, “I thought about you every single day, Jace. Not a second went by when I wasn’t thinking of you.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, “I’m not the same person.” Quickly you replied, standing up from the chair and moving to his side of the table, “I don’t expect you to be, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you.” It seems to be the wrong answer as he stands from the chair and creates space between you two, arms crossing against his chest, “It should! I can’t- We can’t be together, there’s no point!”

It’s a lie, he’s lying, he can’t accept that you love him like it’s easy, like his whole existence isn’t filthy. This was bad, he shouldn't have seen you, “I’m not sorry that I love you, I never will be. I don’t care that you’ve changed, you are still the most important person to me! I will do anything for you.” Your voice is soft but stern, you need him to hear you. 

As much as you want to, you don’t approach him, you’re just happy he opened up to you at all. There’s obviously more than happened to him, more than just physical abuse. You have to be smart and careful not to treat him like he’s fragile because your Jason is anything but. He’s the strongest person you know and you’re here to help him feel loved and supported. 

Blue eyes analyze your body language, watching your chest move, the way your fingers slightly shake, “Why.. Why do you still love me?” His knees give out and he falls to the floor, you’re quick to move towards him in case he falls completely, so you opt to sit just a couple steps away. 

“How can I not love you? Even if you hadn’t come back I would have still loved you. You are my lifeline Jason.” You’ve never been a liar, not once had he ever doubted you, even now, as different as he looks you still followed his every word. Not once did you care to think he would have poisoned your food or this safehouse itself could have been a trap; Yet you followed him anyway. Why?

“You can’t possibly look at me and still love it.” Jason can barely stand to look at his own reflection, it’s starting to frustrate him that you supposedly see past the scars and accept him. It can’t be that easy, it shouldn’t be.

He doesn’t realize he said the last thing out loud, “Loving you is the easiest thing in the world, Jaybee.” A scoff falls from his lips at the nickname, and if you didn’t know him any better you would’ve missed the teeny tiny smile that appeared on his lips. 

“Whatever is running through that head of yours, I’m going to need you to tell me, okay? Maybe not now, or tomorrow or even the day after that but I’m always going to be here for you in any way that I can. I have all the time in the world with you around, I promised you then and I promise you now, I will always be right by your side.” 

The ache in his chest is back, he feels his heart beating so fast, without thinking much he reaches towards you and holds you to his chest like the night he first saw you again. Only this time he cradled your body so close to his own, you were sideways which meant you got to hear the pounding of his heart. His hands weaved through your hair and if you felt his tears drip onto your hair you ignored it. 

You can learn to love him just as you did before. 

© ihrthoney. reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated𑁤

taglist for those who commented :) @fanficwritersworld @jasonsbaby @princessesgarden @anime-potato-san @ravensandmysterae

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[7:19 pm]

(based on this TikTok)

"And I can't just sit around and keep waiting," You sigh, threading your fingers through your hair in frustration. "You told me you weren't ready for a relationship and for months I've been waiting and I've been patient. But Jeno, I'm starting to think I'm waiting for nothing and wasting my time. Am I right?"

Jeno doesn't say anything. He doesn't even have it in him to look you in the eye right now. His eyes remain focused on a single pulled thread on his sleeve. He can't find the words you want to hear or even the words to begin to explain how deeply he feels for you.

"I guess that's enough of an answer. Bye, Jeno." He hears your voice before the front door opens. The loud sound of the heavy rainfall meets his ears for just a second before he jumps up and follows you out. You're already soaked to the bone in the few moments you've been outside.

"Get back inside!" Jeno yells out.

You turn to look at him and it's then that Jeno notices your red eyes. Even with the rain he can tell you're crying and it makes him feel awful.

Jeno sighs to himself and hypes himself up before chasing after you. The cold water immediately makes him tense, makes him yearn for the warmth of his home, his comfortable couch with a movie on and you by his side.

He grabs your hand and pulls you closer. He loves the way your hand fits in his, loves the warmth and the softness that's always there. "I love you, alright?" Jeno yells over the pounding rain, "I love you and I'm the world's most stupid man to have kept someone like you waiting for me. I was nervous and I was scared that making us official would change everything for the worse. I couldn't stand the thought of losing you."

Your eyes widen at his confession, heart pounding in your ears even harder than the drops of water pounding against the floor. His hair is drenched and his oversized sweater hangs heavily on his lithe frame as the water weighs it down. You look into his eyes and see the fear, the apprehension, and the anxiety.

Jeno has always been the type to show you he cared for you as more than a friend with his actions. He'd get you small gifts, act affectionately, press kisses to your temples or hold your hand. He did all of this and refused to commit to you in an official relationship, not wanting to make things official for some fear he hadn't voiced until now.

"Why now?" You ask quietly.

"Because I lost you for less than a minute and it felt like someone ripped my heart right out of my chest. Because you make every day I'm with you a million times better. Because you mean more to me than anyone I've ever met or will meet. Because I can't organize all the words of every language in the world to express to you how deeply I feel for you. Because you mean everything to me and I am nothing without you," Jeno confesses more quietly, pressing his forehead against your own as his hands come up to cup your cheeks.

The sound of the rain seems to quiet around the two of you, it's just your breaths that fill this tiny space between you. The cold has faded as your blood pumps throughput your body with excitement and adrenaline.

His eyes look different now. The look in his eyes tells you he's being genuine, he's looking at you like you were made for him.

You can't find it in you to respond, there's no way you can top his confession. Instead, you press your lips against his. It's a perfect fit. His lips are cold and chapped but there's a a hunger in the way his lips move. It's searing and passionate as he tastes your mouth, expresses his love through his touch. Your arms wrap around his neck as you kiss him back with as much passion and love as he does.

You both pull away, chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. Jeno smiles at you, his cheeks rosy, "let's get inside. I'll give you some clothes and we can watch a movie."

You both get back inside, shivering for many minutes even after you're both bundled up under a blanket and cuddling, but there's no place else you'd rather be.

[marooningmirrorball]

Splattered Coffee and Spare Blouses

A/n: hello lovelies! this is my first ever fanfic so please be kind to me when you read this 🫣 any sort of feedback will be appreciated🤞also there is no physical description of reader, that picture was just the first cute white blouse that i saw on pinterest. i hope you like it!

content: coworker!rafe x coworker!reader

content warnings: complete ooc rafe, like not even a little bit canon. jealous rafe. desperate reader and rafe. idiots in love fr. coworkers/office au (?)

word count: 1.2k words

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊ ₊˚༺☆༻

Rafe is too busy drinking in the sweet melody of your voice to catch the actual content of your conversation with Matt. Or is it Mark? Mason? It doesn’t matter what his name is, the only relevant thing about the guy is that he delivers the paper to the office, and Rafe knows they’re getting a paper restock when he hears the tee-heeing of your giggle aimed at something supposedly funny that Miles joked about as he stacks the reams of paper on the tall shelves behind your desk.

You don’t actually ‘tee-hee’, it’s more of a soft chortle. Rafe likes to think he knows the difference, he tries to bypass these dreary office hours by studying each laughter.

First he takes in the sound and how much it made his heart clench, then he looks at your expression; happy, shy, nervous, anxious (he’s even found the difference between those two!), angry. Lastly he takes in the context of the laugh.

It’s definitely a titter when your boss is reprimanding your newest co-worker with the frosted tips, it’s a hodgepodge of a shy-nervous giggle when your boss is reprimanding you, and it’s absolutely a guffaw when Rafe delivers a joke he’d been meticulously planning before he presents it to you.

It usually doesn’t matter what type of laugh it is, the soundwaves from it wrap his heart up and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, until Rafe forces himself to leave the room, because it can’t be normal to feel this way about a girl you've only been working with for the last three months.

But this isn’t all those other times, it's that unusual time of the month. What could a man who delivers paper to a pool coverings company possibly say to make you let out that joyous sound? What does a pool company even need paper for? Rafe, running his pointer finger along the rim of his coffee mug, comes up blank when he starts to really think about the former rhetorical question, he’s not too sure he ever wants to interact with Mike that will allow him to find out.

Too late. The kerfuffle Rafe accidently caused due to clumsy hands and an even clumsier brain leaves his (luckily) empty mug toppled, but Rafe’s not so blessed when his fallen over mug lands on his pen, triggering it to leap from his desk and splatter into your (unluckily) full mug.

You spin around in your chair at the commotion of Rafe’s, “Shit!”.

Rafe thinks being shot in the big toe would be less painful than this. It’s a Grade A Disaster. All he can see is the deep brown liquid dispersed in sporadic splats all over your previously white blouse.

“Holy shit, are you alright?���, Marcus is pulling out his handkerchief, of course Paper guy carries a handkerchief, in record time, dabbing away at the marks that have the clear intention to find a permanent home on your work top.

Rafe isn’t given a chance to play hero, before Milo is badgering, “Man, why are you doing trick shots right now? Aren’t you a sales guy?”, Rafe; however, is too mortified to think about a snarky comeback as he instead spews out a stumbled apology.

“Y/N, I-I am so so sorry– tha-that really wasn’t on purpose! I-I can–I will replace your shirt after work, I’m so sorry!”, it all comes out jumbled and untidy. A red-faced Rafe runs a hand down his face in exasperation before he’s suddenly up and grabbing at the fallen dishware, “Let me just-let me go get you some paper tow-”

You put an end to his unnecessary apologies with a gentle touch to his right hand that possesses the culprit. Rafe thinks his heart actually stopped.

The grin you bless him with manages to calm him down, “Rafe, you're okay! Don’t stress about it–really. It’s an old blouse anyway.”

And…what?

Rafe just managed to completely demolish your clothes, yet it’s you who is showing him kindness in this weak moment, “Look, if you’re really bummed out about it and want to reimburse me, I do need to go to the mall after this so…”, you drag out and let him fill in the blanks.

So did the mug actually fall onto Rafe’s head? Did he fall into a state of unconsciousness and wake up in a dream land? This can’t be real.

The scoff and retreat of Marcello’s boots snap him out of his thoughts, this is his life. This is his life and he has been staring at you in disbelief for too many silent seconds because you quickly begin to slip the offer out of his hands, “Uhh–well you don’t really have to join me to shop, I just thought since-”, now you're interrupted by Rafe’s reassurances,

“No! Wait–I mean yes! Erm I don’t actually know what I’m meaning to say”, you think the blush sporting his face has got to be the cutest thing you’ve possibly ever seen as he carries on, “I would love to come with you, please!” Jesus, he thinks, try sounding more desperate, he quickly corrects himself.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be cool if I join along. I-If you don’t mind obviously…” he trails off, unsure and not wanting to impose, despite you literally just inviting him.

The shyness is evident in your voice when you softly say, “No, it would absolutely be fun if you came with”, God, you think, why did I add absolutely in there, he’s gonna think I’m desperate.

“Okay cool.”

“Cool.”

Henry, your coworker with the frosted tips, stands at the corner of Rafe’s desk with his arms crossed, “Can I get some paper or do I need to wait another five minutes until your flirting is done?”

The both of you cower slightly in embarrassment at his teasing, but don’t let it dim the bright smiles adorning your faces. Rafe is sure that there’s nothing in this moment that could, he just scored a hang out with the female coworker that he’s been crushing on for weeks now! Not even the sight of smug Martin could kick him off this high right now.

Your too-old desk chair groans as you stand from it, and suddenly Rafe’s worried that Henry’s comment may have bothered you, “Where are you going?”, his rushed tone causes a giggle to escape you,

“My top is still soaked Rafe”, you gesture to the stained garment with a laugh, “I’m just gonna fetch the spare in my car. What? Do you want to walk with me there too?” Rafe misses the joking lilt of your voice because he’s up and walking towards the reception before you can stop him.

When the two of you return from your car, you with a clean (albeit slightly wrinkled from sitting in your ‘just in case’ bag) blouse on and Rafe with a bashful expression, Henry wiggles his eyebrows at the pair of you, implying something out of nothing. You both ignore it and get back to your work, not without the two of you sneaking glances at each other when you know the other isn’t looking.

Long forgotten are Max’s bad jokes and flirting, Henry’s annoying teasing, and this afternoon’s coffee disaster as you and Rafe walk side by side in the mall, he doesn’t think life can get better than this.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊ ₊˚༺☆༻

[revelboo]

Not a request but just to say thank you for all the work youve done for us!!! Your characterization’s are just top tier and I love how you build up the interactions and focus on the smaller things, really gives us a feel of everythingg

Please do take breaks though!! The rate which you write is crazy honestly😭😭😭

I can technically do these short form fics very quickly if I want to, but my day job is keeping me a bit busy right now.

Better Open The Door Pt 8

IDW Thundercracker x Reader

• Using a spare blanket to rub your hair dry, your mind keeps dredging up the memory of his lips pressing softly against your spine. He’d behaved himself after, but he’d spent more time watching your furtive attempts to wash without flashing him than even trying to wash himself. It’s just his weird fascinations with humans and you know it, but still. The feel of his lips on you had been warm, felt real even if it can’t possibly be. Groaning, you drape the blanket over your head and just hide. From him and from your own weird thoughts. From the fact that even though you should resent him, it’s hard to.

• Watching you from his desk as he fiddles with his data pad, he leans to try and tug the blanket off of you. “What are you doing?” You latch onto it, resisting and while he knows he could easily uncover you, he lets you have whatever this is. Privacy? You’re back in your coverings, so maybe you’re just tired? “I can dim the lights if you need to rest.” And there you are, peeking out at him.

• You want to ask. About his possessive words before and that touch, because you’re not sure he’s playing the same game anymore and you hate not understanding the rules. He’d taken you just to play pretend, playing house with you to satisfy some weird desire from watching too many movies. Right? Whatever that was in the wash racks hadn’t felt like playing, though. “What am I to you?”

• Don’t you already know? Reaching out to tip your chin up and smiling when you catch his servo, but don’t push him away, he studies your expression. “We’re friends, right?” He asks even though that’s not quite right at all. Wants to protect the peace you give him, your smiles and laughs that had come so easily before he’d taken you, but now they’re brittle. Unhappy with him for keeping you here. For not giving you a choice.

• “Yeah, friends,” you mutter, blowing out a breath. And as annoyed as you are with him, he’s just so genuinely invested in you, in worrying over you and trying to make you happy, that it’s hard to stay furious with him for kidnapping you. No matter what he insists, he will get bored with you. You’re not that interesting and he has to realize that. This can’t last, but it’s not like you can hate him. He’s still Thundercracker. Still painfully optimistic and hopeful, just wanting to be with you. Maybe lonely, too.

• “Best friends,” he insists, choosing to ignore it when you roll your eyes at him. “I downloaded some movies on my data pad.” Reaching for you, his servos stop shy of touching you. Giving you a choice. He misses your real smiles, wants to go back to when you trusted him. Because this uneasy tension hurts. It’s almost more lonely than he’d been before he found you. Your head tips to study his expression and he fully expects you to refuse, so when you wrap yourself in your blanket and place yourself in his servos, it means everything. He can’t tell you the truth, yet. Can’t explain why he took you, what’s coming. Because when he admits that his war is likely going to take everything from you, you really will hate him.

Previous

[ghoulangerlee]

HERE WE GO. dewther phone sex that probably could have gone on for another six thousand words if I'd continued writing instead of forcing myself to end it :)

there is some lore-y stuff in here because I am not me if I don't include my own personal lore, and at the end there's mentions of heats and knotting but neither of those actually happen :)

Dew is a lil mean in this but as it turns out, Aether really likes em mean.

-

The phone rings, pulling him from the inventory reports in front of him—it's the desk phone of all things, not his cell that sits face down a little further away and for a moment, he thinks to ignore it, to continue his work so he can finish quicker and get to bed sooner, but at the late hour it could be some kind of emergency— 

He picks it up, balancing his pen in his other hand as he cradles the desk phone between his ear and shoulder, “Infirmary, this is Aether speaking, how can I help you?”  

There’s silence on the line for a moment and Aether tilts his head, “Hello? Is someone there?”  

A sigh, familiar in its tone echoes across the line, “Hey Aeth,” Dew mumbles, sounding tired, “Didn’t know if you’d still be awake.”  

Aether glances up at the clock across the room, the hands ticking by slowly, it’s late, much later than he’d expected, “Ah,” he says, “I was finishing up some inventory reports in the infirmary, some new guy decided to double the amount of gauze we need so now we’re swimming in it but don’t have any more antibiotics,” he glances down at the papers in front of him, red lines crossed through black numbers, “Been down here most of the day counting things to get everything right again.”  

Dew hums, a pleased little sound, “I like hearing you talk about the work you do,” he says, tone bordering on that sappy-tired one he gets whenever he’s worked to the bone and sleepy, “I miss you.”  

“I miss you too,” Aether murmurs with a small smile, leaning back in his chair and focusing all of his attention on Dew, “How is guard duty with Frater Imperator?” he asks, a brief flash of worry catching him.  

“He’s safe,” Dew says, yawns widely over the line, “A little annoyed by the travel, a lot annoyed that there may still be something or someone after him despite everything,” he’s candid about it, and if Aether closes his eyes, he can almost see Dew sitting in front of him, waving a lazy hand in emphasis as he speaks. “Of course, we’re doing fine, this other church is okay, a little drafty and the ghouls here don’t really speak, but I guess it’s fine for a little while. The elders keep giving me dirty looks when they think Copia isn’t watching though.”  

A pang of regret goes through him, he’d almost went with Dew and Copia, but something had come up in the infirmary, someone had fallen ill and he’d been the best person to fill in, he wishes he were there with Dew right now. “Sounds exciting,” he says, “A little draft isn’t too much for a fire ghoul, right?” he asks teasingly, feeling the tension of the day fade the longer he speaks to Dew.  

“Cold day in Hell that a puny little church with an annoying clergy bothers me enough to make me leave early,” Dew says with a snort, “I wanted to talk to you though, time differences suck. We’re on different continents and everything so I can’t even really feel you right now either.”  

Aether gets it, he can feel the way his bond with Dew is weakened, barely there, dormant in the distance between them—in the back of his mind he can still feel him, but it’s a far cry from the usual. “I know, wisp,” he murmurs, “I wish we were closer too,” he admits, “Church is quiet without you here.”  

“Copia was giving me shit earlier,” Dew admits after a few moments of silence, “Said I looked sad, like someone stole something from me,” he pauses, clears his throat, “Told me to come call you, that you’d probably be up working still even at the late hour.”  

“He was right,” Aether says with a little laugh, “Not that he has any room to talk about what is and isn’t late,” he continues, and then glances up at the ceiling, “Are you still sad?” he asks cheekily, lazily spinning his chair to the side, “Do you need me to talk to you so you can fall asleep?”  

He means it as a joke, but there’s a serious undercurrent there, something they’d discovered before Copia’s lateral move, when Dew had toured but Aether stayed behind—sometimes, sometimes his brain wouldn’t let him sleep, not alone, and he’d call Aether, listen to the quintessence ghoul talk until his eyes grew heavy and he fell into a comfortable sleep—imagining his mate right there beside him.  

Dew hums lazily, “Maybe,” he starts, but this time, there’s something of a breathless quality to his voice, “Or maybe I want to talk to you about other things.”  

It takes Aether a moment, if he focuses hard enough, he can hear something on the other line, a slick sound, a hitch in Dew’s breathing, “Is this a booty call?” he can’t help but ask, the words spilling out before he can stop it, “Dew are you—” he cuts himself off, presses his palm against the bottom of the phone and glances around the office.  

It’s late, of course, and the door isn’t locked, but he’s the only one down here right now, having sent the rest of the staff off, only keeping a bare bones support staff in case of emergencies, but he can’t sense anyone else.  

“I am working,” Aether finally says, lowering his hand, feeling a flush come up the sides of his neck, “If someone were to walk into my office, they’d—”  

“They’d what?” Dew asks sharply, the hitch in his voice making it obvious what he’s doing, “They’d think you were on the phone, right, baby? That you’re working late, working so hard for everyone, making sure the inventory reports are all correct. You’re not doing something silly like touch yourself, are you? You’re on the phone and you’re working diligently.”  

Aether grits his teeth, pressing a fist hard into his thigh, “I’m not touching myself,” he says, and looks down at his desk again, numbers taunting him on the page, “I’ve stopped working for the moment to talk to you,” he inhales deeply, bites his lip when he hears Dew moan quietly over the line.  

“You’re being such a good boy,” Dew murmurs the praise, praise that shoots right down to Aether’s core, “I’m going to touch myself and you’re going to listen to me and keep working, aren’t you?”  

Aether bites harder at his lower lip, tilting his head back against the chair, “I am,” he finally agrees, after a long moment of listening to Dew breathe heavily, the slick sounds of his hand.  

Dew waits for a moment, almost as if he’s aware that Aether’s not working, waits for minutes until Aether sits up, scoots his chair forward and picks his pen back up, “If I were there with you, I’d situate myself under your desk,” he purrs, words going a bit high on the end. “You’d be a busy body about it, complain about me distracting you but we both know you want me to.”  

Aether digs the pen into the paper in front of him, keeping his gaze trained on the numbers on the page and he hums a little, “You are good at being a little shit sometimes,” he says, trying to keep his tone casual.  

A laugh, breathless and the slick sounds seem to get louder, “Uh huh,” he agrees, “I am, but you love me like that, you love when I push your buttons. Take you down a peg, big guy.” Dew grunts a little and Aether can only imagine that he’s fucking up into his fist, “You turn to putty in my hands the second I get my mouth on you,” he breathes.  

“Lies,” Aether says, trying to keep his voice firm as he presses his legs together, “You’re just running your mouth.”  

Dew swears softly, “Aether,” he moans out, “Strong words for the guy who begged me to fuck him right before I left,” he teases, and Aether feels hot under the collar when he thinks about it, how desperate he had been for Dew’s dick. “It’s okay big guy, I love when you fall apart for me, when you can barely speak because you’re so dick drunk,” he coos, “Thinking about how your skin’s so cold, but every time I get inside you, you heat up like a fire ghoul,” he teases, “Like I’m branding you from the inside out, isn’t that right baby, you’re all mine and no one can fuck you as good as I can.”  

Aether squeezes the pen in his hand tight enough that he can hear the plastic creaking, “Dew,” he says sharply, but doesn’t speak beyond that, knows if he says anything else he’s going to make a fool of himself, he’s going to start babbling about how much he wishes Dew were here now, down under his desk, mouth on him, making him come.  

As the silence stretches between them, Dew moans again, this time higher, another swear, the steady creak of bedsprings, little ah, ah, ahs falling from his lips as he does, “Say something sweet for me baby,” he finally says, breathless and oh so close. “Let me hear your gorgeous voice, tell me what you want me to do for you, baby.”  

And oh Dew’s begging now, desperate in the same way he gets when they’re together, even when he’s being mean and teasing Aether—when he’s close, when he just needs a bit more to come.  

The pen clatters to the desk and Aether’s quick to shove his hand down the front of his scrubs, so glad he’d opted for them instead of the stuffy slacks he normally wore when on administration duties, “I want your mouth on me,” he finally admits, “Wanna fuck your face while you wait under the desk for me to finish working,” he manages to get out, moans when his fingers meet his dick, stroking over it quickly. “Want you to put a couple of fingers inside me, something for me to squeeze around,” he swallows heavily, tilts his head back against the chair as he arches his hips up into his own touch, imagining the heat of Dew’s mouth around him, “I feel so empty, firelight,” he admits, voice breaking a little as he does, pants out in the open, “Feels so empty when you’re away, want you to carve a place inside me and never leave.”  

Dew swears again, louder, a litany of fucks falling from his lips and Aether thinks he comes, thinks if he focuses hard enough he can feel it, the heat of it inside him, that maybe their distance is driving him a bit mad with how much he misses him.  

“Come for me baby,” Dew’s voice, rough with his orgasm, fills Aether’s ears, draws a sharp gasp out of him as he clenches around nothing and comes, goes completely breathless with it as he continues to touch himself until he’s too sensitive and he has to pull his hand away though it doesn’t go far, arm falling limp between his thighs once his hand is free from his scrub pants.  

It takes a while for his heart to settle down, for his breathing to fall under control again and he allows it, floats there as he wishes that Dew were here with him right now, a warm weight between his legs, fire all down his chest and stomach as he cradles him close, chasing away the chill that always falls over Aether after coming.  

“—ay we’re going to be back tomorrow, we’ve done all the ground work here, anyway, the rest is just boring admin work that can be done over Doom meetings.” Dew’s murmuring when he comes back into focus, “As soon as I see you baby, I’m going to get my hands all over you just like you deserve,” he promises, filthy and low in his ear, “Gonna have you coming so much you’ll be satisfied for days.”  

Aether hums, interested when his brain catches on the first part, still mostly focused on the second half of Dew’s words, “Tomorrow?” he asks, hating the way his voice sounds so hopeful.  

Fuck, it’d been weeks though, since he’d last seen Dew. Since they’d been together. He misses him.  

“Yeah, baby,” Dew murmurs, “Our plane landed a bit ago, we’re at a hotel for the night, but Copia’s got a car coming to get us in the morning. We’ll be home before you know it.”  

Aether makes another noise, something choked, “Oh,” he says, looks down at the paper on the desk in front of him, half-finished inventory reports, “I’ve got to—”  

“Whatever it is, it can wait,” Dew says firmly, “You’ve got tomorrow off and maybe the day after, Copia’s feeling a bit benevolent,” he says that with a bit of a grin in his voice, “Inventory will be fine for a couple of days, besides, Copia said he’d work on whatever you didn’t finish, just leave it where you’ve got it and he’ll take over. No arguing with me, alright?”  

And well, Aether can’t argue, because he’s feeling a bit selfish, a bit like he wants to shirk his duties for a few days so he can spend time with Dew instead, something warm settling in the pit of his stomach. “Okay,” he settles on, feels the weight lifted off of his shoulders at the word as he leans back in the chair, making it squeak a bit under his weight.  

“Good boy,” Dew says sweetly, “Now, listen, I want you to hang up the phone and go get cleaned up, settle in our bed and before you know it, I’ll be there, waking you up with a kiss.”  

Aether thinks about his nest, the one he’d been working on since Dew had left, how it still smells like the two of them and how much he wants to be there now, “Okay, yeah,” he says, “I can do that.” He swallows, bites his lip, “I love you, Dew.”  

Dew hums softly, “I love you too, big guy, I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”  

When he hangs up the phone, it’s with warm feelings, and as he levers himself up out of the chair, he feels like he’s floating.  

He grabs his phone, scrolling through the few notifications that he has, there’s a couple of text messages that he’s not too concerned with answering tonight, another text from Dew that’s just a heart emoji and then a singular calendar notification.  

Aether raises an eyebrow but thinks nothing of it at first, locks up the office and deposits the key in the safe box for another staff member to find before he heads up from the infirmary and to his and Dew’s bedroom.  

Once he’s showered and settled into bed, wearing only his underwear and a thin t-shirt that used to be Dew’s at one point and is entirely too short on Aether and stretched out the from the number of times he’s squeezed into it, he picks his phone up again.  

Taps the calendar notification and blinks at the entry that had been added recently.  

Mandatory Leave 10.26 - 11.3 – Accepted by F. Imperator  

There’s a text, one that had come in while he was in the shower, from Copia this time.  

Dew may be a little grumpy in the morning, our car arrives in three hours to pick us up, we’ll be back before your heat starts. The others have stocked your room while you were working and I’ve taken the opportunity to clear your schedule for the next week just in case. Let me know if there’s anything you need <3  

He feels a surge of affection, sends back a heart in response and takes a moment to take stock of himself, feels the low simmer of something that had been bothering him for a while, something gnawing at him the entire time he’d been without Dew—and he didn’t think that it was heat, thought it was just something happening because Dew had been away for so long. His mind races a bit, wonders why his heat had decided to show now of all times—  

His phone buzzes again, a text from Dew.  

Go to sleep, Aeth. I can feel you thinking from all the way out here. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.  

He huffs quietly, sends back a fuck you and a heart a moment later, almost immediately, another text comes through.  

Of course, big boy, anything you need. I’ll even let you knot me if you want <3  

[lillypad-monopoly]

Wild Life Episode 5 Thoughts

(Except I'm insane about Martyn's ep)

LIFE SERIES TRIVIA is DIABOLICAL! The watchers literally being like "how well do you guys know your pain and suffering?" (also sorry only winners remember theory truthers)

The way Grian and Scar are such bitter ex-soulmates that Mumbo has to point it out is hilarious. (also them getting even and saying "Just like Third Life" hurt my heart)

Grian not remembering iconic moments from his own series is so funny. What do you mean he only knows Martyn beheaded Ren with an axe from fanart? Grian gaining possession of the Red Winter Axe was a whole plot point.

MUMBO FIRST OUT! IN SESSION 5! The canary curse is broken for real now guys but at what cost.

Grian standing on the ruins of the tower by himself going through the five stages of grief over Mumbo's death as the sun rises in the background is a gorgeous piece of fanart waiting to happen

Martyn you didn't need to start the episode by talking about how Ren is providing for you, you're asking for the shipping at this point 🤣

MARTYN YOU DO THE LORE OFC JIMMY AND TANGO WERE OUT FIRST. Also REN YOU WERE LITERALLY IN DOUBLE LIFE. RIP Ren/BigB we know where his true loyalties lie

THE TWO NICKLES MEME BREAKING CONTAINMENT I CAN'T

Ren inviting BigB to join the RenWood Mound alliance WITHOUT REMEMBERING DOUBLE LIFE is so insane I don't even know what to say.

OF COURSE SCAR REMEMBERS THE DESERT DUO FLOWERS I'M GOING TO BE SICK

Martyn and Ren saying they're going to be boat bros. This has been coming since last session but I NEED Joel and Etho to call them out on it

"We're boat boys," MARTYN INTHELITTLEWOOD WHEN I CATCH YOU-

Etho yelling for Bdubs to hit him so they could test if the wildcard affected damage and then Tango going "smack me harder~" in the background was diabolical. Suuuure you guys are all PG.

Etho sitting in a boat for Joel to jump over him feels like some boat boys relationship symbolism I'm not smart enough to explain

So Etho is currently living with team BET, but allied with the Four Gs, and in the family with Gem and Joel. Wildcard Etho is so back!

Of course Impulse immediately remembered the clock question.

Joel boasting about how he immediately knows all the questions is peak Joel form and I would expect nothing less. It is kind of warranted though because everybody else is waffling on the simple ones.

Joel is now two for two on unquestioningly trusting Etho only to have something bad happen to him and not even being mad about it what is wrong with this man 😭

Does Joel have the censor bleep on his keyboard or did he just straight up start swearing at Tango and know they would both have to censor it in post to get the effect that he was also making the noise?

Scott's gone from a creaking fanboy to a body horror situation and I'm living for it (also considering he's agreed to "go wild" this session--am I sensing a Scott corruption arc?)

Scott cutting directly from saying he and Jimmy were never married even though they called each other husbands to a scene WITH Jimmy was kind of an insane choice

Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss Girldad has been confirmed by Scott as the actual reason for the 4Gs. I still think Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss ImpulseSV is funnier but good to have an official ruling

Scott giving up his life for Pearl and them being good natured about it and calling it therapy! I love them so much!

Lizzie being the only person who's not exicted when a trivia bot spawns is so funny. Even the other players who weren't in all the seasons don't seem to be as miffed by them as she is.

Lizzie's flaming snail arising out of that hole while smiling is potentially the funniest thing I've seen all day. Why did it look like that 🤣

[bearforcecaptions]

The spell worked, sort of, but not how I wanted. I did have the body of my dreams – I was Garrett now, but I didn’t realize the catch was that I wouldn’t be able to control what I’m doing unless I’m totally alone. And Garrett, or, me, I guess – I’m nearly never alone! The frat house pretty much always has someone in it, and I’m super popular, too. I thought being Garrett would be fun and easy, but stuck like this, it’s torture!

I figured out the ritual from this old book I found at that occult shop downtown, thinking it would be a quick way out of my boring life and into something… well, something way more interesting. Garrett had it all, or so I thought. Girls loved him, he was in the best shape, and everyone wanted to be his friend. But nobody told me about this weird restriction, or maybe I just didn’t read that part carefully enough. I guess the idea was I’d “experience” Garrett’s life, but it’s like watching a movie, except I’m the star and I can only move on my own terms when no one else is around.

And god, my roommate, he’s actually so stupid. When I can’t control my actions, we bro out all the time, but he’s so vapid. I guess I’m not much better, but it’s actually infuriating. You’d think we could have a conversation that’s not about girls, parties, sports, or video games. But no, every time he starts talking, it’s like Garrett’s body just falls right into the rhythm of it, responding automatically. I tried fighting it at first, but it’s like this autopilot takes over, and I’m just... stuck.

I’ve been scouring the room whenever I get a chance to control things, like right now, looking for any sign or clue on how to undo this. There has to be something I missed. I rummaged through his messy closet, which is packed with clothes, gym stuff, and random junk, none of it useful. The guy keeps his stuff in total chaos, and I feel weirdly exposed, like I’m actually pawing through my own things.

Shit, no, is that the door jangling? I thought I would have a couple of hours to try and figure out how to fix this. Who the hell knows when I’ll get another chan-

Fuuck, bro. Why’s my roomie home early? Thought he went to his ‘rents for the weekend. I was just about to jerk one out too. Ah well, maybe he’ll be down for some Call of Duty or something. I could use a beer.

“Yo, dude, what’s up? You back already?” I say, grinning like an idiot as I lean against the door frame, flexing a bit without even realizing it. Dude probably thinks I’m just chillin’, but nah, I’m feelin' like a boss.

He laughs, dropping his bag by the door and shrugging. “Yeah, man, got bored at home. Figured I’d head back early. Parents were driving me nuts.”

“Oh, for sure, dude,” I nod, grabbing a can of beer from the mini-fridge by my bed. “Parents, am I right? They just don’t get it, bro.” I crack it open, chugging half of it in one go, feeling the cool rush. Damn, that’s good.

He slaps my shoulder, laughing. “Dude, I swear, it’s like every time I go back, it’s the same speech about responsibility and blah blah blah. Like, whatever, right?”

“Oh, totally, man,” I laugh, shrugging it off. “Why they gotta be like that, y’know? We’re just out here living, they don’t get it.” I toss him a beer, feeling that chill vibe kickin’ in, like nothing in the world matters but just hanging with my bro. This is what it’s all about – no worries, no drama, just cold beers and good times.

“Bro, I’m feelin’ a COD sesh,” I say, grabbing the controller off the couch. “You down?”

He grins. “Hell yeah, let’s wreck some noobs.”

We crash down on the couch, controllers in hand, beers in easy reach, and it’s like all the worries in the world just melt away. I’m trash-talkin’, throwin’ down taunts, and we’re both laughing so hard my sides hurt. I don’t even remember the last time I felt this alive.

“You’re so bad, dude,” I laugh, jabbing him in the ribs as I get another kill. “How are you still this bad?”

“Shut up, bro!” he shoves me back, laughing too, and I’m grinning like an idiot.

Fuck, life is good, I think, as I take a gulp of my beer. I got my bros, I got my beer, and I got my games. What more does a dude need? Life’s good.

[wolftarotcrafts]

I hope something resonates with you and you can find this helpful. ❤️

Pile One

Hey pile one already off the bat, I am getting love. If you have been single for a while, I definitely see you coming into union with someone. For some of you, this person is from your past, like a friend or an ex. If it is someone from the past, there is no bad blood, there is no toxic energy. For people who have been single for a while or for those of you who have never been in a relationship, I think you need to go back out there or finally go out there and meet new people. For whatever situation you are in, the advice is to be adventurous and embrace love. I am getting a romantic type of love, but for those that don't want that or aren't searching for that right now, the advice still stands by spending time with people that make you happy and loved, like friends and family. For others of you, the advice is to give that person a call or text, make a dating profile, take a class, you might even unexpected someone unexpectedly. Be adventurous and step out of your comfort zone and spread love every step of the way. I see many of you reconnecting or meeting someone special. Take the leap.

Extra : 4, 6, 8, 28, 35, music, songs, friend, dating, union, soulmate, proposal, eyes, younger, déjà vu, divine masculine, single, Aquarius, Scorpio Back to you by Louis Tomlinson ft Bebe Rexha.

Pile Two

Hi pile two. I see many of you are struggling emotionally and mentally. Many of you are under stress and have anxiety about something. I see for some of you this has to do with work or school. You feel overwhelmed by something, possibly a promotion, financial issues like debt, or finals. I feel for some of you there is a decision that needs to be made, but you feel at a crossroads and may be asking for signs. You don't know what direction you want to go in. I can see some of you just prolonging your hurt by keeping yourself trapped. Change will always find you, no matter how much you run. It will eventually catch up. Don't stress about things that you can't change or fix, because you will only be wasting your time. I do see many of you pulling yourselves up from the hole that you are in. Success is in reach. It's up to you to not give up and keep working towards your goals. And for some of you, you may find that you want to do a different career, and only you know what's best for you. Don't listen to what others want because it's your life, so live it. I want you to take three deep breaths and take out a journal about what you are feeling. Whatever thought you are having, whatever may weigh on your heart and mind. It's all up to you. 

Extra: 3, 6, 31, signs, toxic tendencies, sad, moving, decision, North America, Europe, A, Sagittarius, Aries, Scorpio, Aquarius, Leo, June, hardworking, journal, Sing the movie, "You know the good thing about hitting rock bottom; there's only one way left to go, and that's up."

Pile Three

Hello pile three, I see many of you. You need a push. There is something that you want to do, like start a business, start a new job, change career paths, go to school, start a new art project, write songs, or start a project. You are feeling inspired and energized, and you need to grab that feeling and nurture it. Feel the inspiration and use it. Go for whatever you want, and don't let it pass you by. If you want something in life, then go get it. If you fail or there are setbacks, you have to be brave enough to laugh at yourself and get back up. You are always going to stumble because, guess what? You are human, and as humans, we are always going to have things go wrong. You are the captain of your own ship, and every day is not going to be smooth sailing. Confidence is going to be your best friend, and I want you to always remember that you are good enough, no matter who tells you otherwise, because there will always be people who want to blow out your lights, but you will just have to show them and shine brighter. Now get up and go after what you want. 

Signs: Remember This NF, "You want something in life, then why don't you go and get it?" leadership, balance, meditation, and strength. 

[edwinspaynes]

GHOSTS IN THE SNOW

I spent a lot of the day thinking I WILL SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST IF I DO NOT SEE A PAYNELAND SNOW KISS RIGHT NOW. Unfortunately, I could not find one to look upon, so I decided to write one. Here you are! You can also read it on Ao3.

Edwin did not like to admit it, but he barely remembered what it meant to feel cold.

Charles did - considering the manner in which he died, it was no surprise. And yet all Edwin could recall was heat, not only from the fires of Hell but also from running, and running, and running. As he strolled along the peaceful nighttime streets of London, Charles's hand in his, he contemplated what it might be like to feel the light snowfall on his face. To have his cheeks wind-whipped and numb, to catch the large, fluffy falling snowflakes in his mouth and taste them.

Edwin did not frequently yearn for life, but in that moment, he felt something like nostalgia for it.

"What're you thinking about, mate?" Charles's voice cut through the still darkness. The world was quiet here, away from London's main roads at three in the morning, but Charles's voice was bold and brave. "You've got that look on your face, the one you get when you're really engrossed in some book or puzzle."

"And what sort of look is that?" Edwin's voice was light.

Charles scrunched up his face and narrowed his eyes rather adorably.

Edwin chuckled. "You are being ridiculous," he admonished. "I have never looked like that. You once told me that my contemplative expression is quite clever; I shall choose to believe that rather than your insulting impression."

Charles smiled slightly. "Are you saying I didn't look clever like that? Well, that's rude, isn't it, when I tried so hard."

"You shall have to make a better effort next time." Edwin waved the hand that was not holding Charles's in the air, and Charles squeezed his hand. They continued to stroll along, and Edwin watched the flurries swirl under the light-posts. Electric lighting had been new back in his day, and it was not nearly as bright as this, so bright as to illuminate the snowfall and -

"Oi," Charles said. "You're doing it again." He did not release Edwin's hand, but brought the other one up to poke him on the shoulder. He poked far too many times, far too quickly. Edwin would not have had Charles any other way. "Come on, Edwin," he continued, "what's going on in that big brain of yours, huh?"

Edwin rolled his eyes and huffed. "I am simply contemplating what it might be like to feel... cold," he said. "I do not remember it."

"Oh." Charles stopped walking, and Edwin with him. His hand went slack, and they pulled apart as Charles continued. "That's... I guess... I don't really remember normal cold either, do I? Just like, the perils of terminal hypothermia or whatever."

"Very uplifting," Edwin murmured, and Charles nudged him.

"But. But." Charles tilted his head at Edwin. "I bet it's, like, the opposite of warm, yeah? Like, when you hold my hand, that's warm. Cold would be... the other thing, yeah?"

"Have you never thought it odd that humans always wish to sort things into arbitrary binaries? As much as I enjoy organized thought processes..."

"Hot/cold doesn't feel that arbitrary," Charles argued.

"I shall have to conduct further study." Edwin steepled his hands before himself, an unconscious habit that he knew made him appear confident.

But Charles grinned again. "I mean, if you want something else warm so you can better understand what its opposite might be..."

"Whatever do you mean?"

Charles reached out. He clasped Edwin's hands in his own, breaking his folded hands apart and squeezing his fingers. Then, still smiling, Charles took a step closer to Edwin and placed his hands on either side of his face. Edwin smiled at the last moment before their lips met, and Charles's mouth was as gentle as the snowflakes blowing lightly through the sky.

And warm. Of course, he was warm.

When Charles pulled away, large, uniquely-shaped snowflakes were stark against his black hair. Edwin wondered whether he was in such a state, too, and whether Charles liked the contrast as much as he did. But he did not have to wonder for long. Charles laughed quietly and reached upward to smooth down Edwin's hair, his expression so woefully fond that Edwin had to fight the urge to look away. "Love you, mate," he said casually, and Edwin could not help but smile.

Edwin's heart melted, but his eyes narrowed. "Wait," he said. "What on Earth did that have to do with our previous conversation? How am I meant to better understand the nature of cold due to that?"

"You're not," Charles said without a hint of shame. "I just made up an excuse to kiss you, didn't I. And it worked."

Edwin pivoted toward Charles. "You are trickier than I gave you credit for," he said, smirking.

"And you love me," Charles said, smiling as he trailed after Edwin.

Edwin reached out behind him, and Charles took his hand. "I suppose I do," Edwin mused.

He did not see the way that Charles smiled down at his boots.

dbda taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed):

@tiredandoptimistic @thevagabondexpress @stormkitty97 @innocentmapleleaf

@honorarypines @tragedy-machine @pisces-swirlix @authoricdemon @many-gay-magpies

@edwardianedwin @babyseraphim @stephen0118 @ingridmatthews

[signedaiko]

Hiiii! May I request some platonic headcanons for MTMTE? I was thinking about a g/n human reader pulling some pranks on some bots on the LL (Ratchet, Rodimus, Rewind) and what their reactions would be.

Ratchet | Rewind | Rodimus [MTMTE]

In which you try pulling a prank on some of your friends aboard the Lost Light.

Reader is: Gender Neutral | Human | Autobot. Platonic.

Ratchet

Your friendship started with you making teasing comments, which eventually led to jokes and seemed to be verging towards pranks

Ratchet was a grumpy one, so while your jokes are welcome, there is a time and place for them

One of those times is not the first thing in the morning, especially when he's preparing to get into a surgery

And yet, as he went to enter his office, he was surprised to run into some kind of thin, transparent film that forced him back onto his aft

You'd spent the whole night lining the door of the medbay with several rolls of plastic wrap, knowing his optics would still be woken up

It came to bite you in the ass; he wakes you up from your sleep after the all-nighter by yelling your name and banging at your door

He's pissy, and now he's making you sit on his desk all day, watching the surgery, and banging his fist on the table every time you start to doze off

You can sleep when he's done and when he feels you've learned your lesson for startling him so early

Rewind

You were the life of the party, in many ways

A lot of Rewind's best recordings come from you

Were all humans this fun? Or were you some rarity?

Either way, he's a big fan, and he's always got his camera rolling if you're there

You also make him feel special because none of your jokes or pranks are aimed at him

In fact, you usually request his help with pranks, be it as small as catching it on tape or something like replaying someone's voice to lure another of the crew

That's what made your plan against him so effective; he never expected himself to be a target of your genius

Until one late evening, he enters the habsuite to get some rest and-

Wait

Why is everything on the wrong side?

Chromedome is there resting, and Rewind wakes him up to ask what's going on

"What are you talking about? Are you feeling okay?"

Chromedome fully convinces Rewind he may have something wrong until he pulls up a clip of the room

"Fuck." He hears your small voice come from somewhere behind Chromedome, and he's running at you

"Both of you! Traitors!"

Rodimus

Rodimus knew you better than most others, and while he pretended to scold you in front of Ultra Magnus all the time, he liked the energy you brought

Besides, he was always pulling small pranks of his own, usually on Ultra Magnus, which was cheap and easy, but pranks nonetheless

That meant he presented a challenge, though

Rodimus was very good at telling you were up to something and had caught many of your pranks before

Unfortunately for him, most is not all, and he'd once again been fooled by your trickery

You'd mixed powdered sugar into his paint polish, which made it look shiny at first, but once dried, it left him very sticky and matte and made his paint look uneven

Oh, he knew who'd done it the moment someone pointed it out, and he wasn't going to let you get away with it so easily

Next thing you know, Siren is over the ship's comms claiming there's an emergency and that Rodimus is severely injured in the med bay

Of course you go racing to see him, unaware the announcement was only to your hab suite

He sat there, Rewind by his side, recording as you burst in with emotions evident on your face, only to realize what he'd done

Asshole

Authors Note - I am actually, secretly, the least funny person in the universe so I hope these parnks were realistic in some shape or form! Thank you for requiesting 🩵

[daisymbin]

hellooo are u still open for the prompt request? if u are pls do suggestive #1 with joshua 🥺🥺 tysm have a nice dayyy

yes I am, lovely!! thank you for requesting 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // shua's m.list

suggestive prompt #1: "if you keep looking at me like that, I might kiss you."

you didn’t even realize you were doing it, did you?

joshua’s hands tightened around the stem of his glass as he watched you, completely lost in your own world. your eyes lingered on his face like they always did—curious, thoughtful, and just shy of mischievous. it wasn’t the first time he caught you staring, but tonight, there was something different.

it wasn’t playful. it wasn’t fleeting. it was deliberate.

he tried not to react. he really did. he made small talk with the others at the table, smiled at the jokes, even laughed when seungkwan exaggerated some story about the last time he got drunk. but his focus was razor-sharp on you, the way your gaze burned into him as though daring him to crack first.

what were you trying to do to him?

it wasn’t fair. joshua was composed, self-assured, the kind of man who never gave too much away. but right now, all that control was hanging by a thread.

he finally looked over, catching your eyes in a way that said, i see you. your lips curled up just enough for him to notice, and he felt his resolve waver.

"what are you thinking about?" his voice was low, smooth, and aimed only at you, though no one else seemed to notice.

you shrugged, and that slight tilt of your head, that tiny quirk of your brow, made his chest tighten.

"nothing much," you replied, too casually. but your eyes were anything but casual. they were intense, tracing the line of his jaw, flickering down to the way his hand rested on the table.

you're doing this on purpose.

his fingers twitched, itching to reach for you, to see if you’d react the same way under his touch. instead, he let the silence hang between you, hoping you’d falter first. but you didn’t.

when you took a sip of your drink, your lashes fluttered just enough to make his throat dry.

he leaned in a little, his voice soft and measured. “if you keep looking at me like that, i might kiss you.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and deliberate.

your eyes widened slightly, but not with surprise. no, you weren’t caught off guard. your reaction was something else entirely—intrigue, maybe, or something darker, something that made his pulse quicken.

you set your glass down, slowly, carefully, as though testing his patience.

"what’s stopping you?" your voice was quiet but steady, challenging him without hesitation.

his chest tightened. was this what you wanted all along? for him to break his composure, to be the one to act first?

joshua glanced around briefly—everyone else at the table was absorbed in their conversations. the buzz of laughter and chatter gave him a thin veil of privacy, but not enough.

he leaned in closer, until his shoulder almost brushed yours, until he could feel the warmth radiating from your skin.

“you’re playing with fire,” he murmured, his lips curving into the faintest smile.

you didn’t flinch. if anything, you leaned in too, closing the distance just enough for him to feel your breath ghost against his cheek.

“then burn me,” you whispered.

his breath caught, and for a moment, everything else faded—the noise, the crowd, the rest of the world. it was just you, staring at him like he was the only thing you could see.

he thought about it. god, he thought about it. the idea of closing that last inch, of tasting the words on your lips, of finally caving into this tension that had been building for weeks.

but no. not here. not now.

joshua leaned back slightly, just enough to make you frown.

“not here,” he said softly, his tone firm but laced with something electric.

your expression shifted, curiosity blooming across your face.

“then where?”

he let the question linger, didn’t answer, didn’t have to. the way his gaze dropped to your lips and back up to your eyes was answer enough.

the corner of your mouth curved, and joshua felt a surge of satisfaction. you might’ve thought you had the upper hand tonight, but he wasn’t about to let you win so easily.

“finish your drink,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “then let’s get out of here.”

he didn’t wait for your reply. he turned back to the table, picking up the thread of a conversation with minghao as though nothing had just happened. but he could still feel your gaze on him, lingering like a whisper, a promise.

he didn’t have to look to know that you were smiling.

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Jeon Jungkook Perspective Reading

Disclaimer: No facts here, just a messenger of the cards and my interpretation of what I get.

Now, on to the next member of BTS for this reading. His energy can be a bit messy for me, so let's see if we go deeper into who he is. So, the song he gave me was Goriila by Bruno Mars, that is a pretty sexual song, so I was like, nah, give me something deeper and got Sexy Back by Justin Timberlake and Sexual Healing by Marvin Gaye and gave up. Dude likes sex, just saying it and the sexual appeal, but he may also enjoy the intimacy of it with a romantic partner. He may not just be into sex with anyone, maybe with his particular person, anyway, let's see if we get something more in the cards.

Ugh, I am not liking what I am getting here, crap. So, we start with Temple of My body, this is giving me sexualized energy. Now, we know how sexualized he is, but do we know how sexualized, if you catch my drift. I can't move past the first card, because I am creeped out by this energy. I hate that I am getting this energy. Ya'll I want to cry, anyway, I really don't want to beat around the bush with this one. I am so scared to say this, but I just keep hearing Justin Bieber in my head if you know his story, then you know. Now, he is a fan of him, but I don't think that is why his name keeps popping up. The Temple of my Body card has the number 2, which reminds me of the 2 of Wands and I am getting sexual favors from that. Now, with the next card triumph of lies, lies wins over, everything around him is a lie, or they sell a story about him, or they sell him lies. Now, with the Sacrifice card, I mean, hello, sacrifice, being a sacrifice. Or having to sacrifice himself. With Black Flower Fragrance, he is hardened, this may have led him to dark places or opened up a void and darkness in him. I am sorry, but this is pissing me off. I really hate what I am getting, and I hope to god, I am wrong here. This could explain his messy ass energy. His story reminds me of Justin Bieber legit, it is his story all over again. I hate that these readings goes how I expect it to go. I knew I was in trouble when that first card came out. Anyway, this could also be a reason for his sexual nature, victims tend to be hypersexual. Allegedly, no facts here. But I call it how I see; I am not sugarcoating anything. Okay, I need to pull out the Conscious healing deck, because he needs healing energy.

Okay, what I am getting is there is patterns, cycles, maybe coping strategies that he may need to release. I see the circle on this one card, and I see things spiraling or a continuous loop for him, a lack of conclusion for him. I mean, I totally get it, very hard to heal from things like that, and face it. If that is what he went through. But this is telling him he needs to move forward. There is a lack of confidence he does have, a sense he isn't good enough or worthy. He may just see himself as a pretty face, or sexy body, that is all people may want for him, so he may see himself as that. He may feel people may not care about what he thinks, and by people, I mean the higher powers. People in control. This makes me sad. It seems there is a bubble, a protective shield he has built, which makes sense, so he makes it hard for people to come close to him, which once again, makes sense. It is like he built a safety net for himself. He should work on clearing away anything in his life he doesn't need, be it people, things, habits or situations. I am looking at this card and what I feel he should do is go on some retreat, in nature, away from all the bullshit and business of his life, that is what he needs, now would he get that, probably not, he makes too much money for these clowns for them to let him do that, but I feel that can help him heal.

So, what I find interesting is that he got similar cards to Wonyoung with this deck, who may have experienced things similar to him, so that intrigues me. These cards are saying that he can rise above whatever has happened if he allows kindness in. If he can allow himself to connect with his spirituality and tap into his feminine energy. To allow his creativity and passion to drive him in a positive direction. There is an opportunity for him to find love and a happy ending if he allows someone in. There is growth and abundance for him. He should work on communicating from the heart and show love towards himself and others. There is abundance for him. It could be an abundance of love, happiness, or success, whatever that could mean for him.

I feel these cards here are telling him to connect with his spirituality. I feel connecting with a higher power would be significant/beneficial for him. He would need to do some introspection and reflection and also learn to allow his intuition to guide him more and learn to listen to it, but there is this guard he has, this hostile energy, vengeful, aggressive energy he holds on to. He feels he needs to be on defense. To protect himself. All understandable, but it does halt him from healing. There is still anger and frustration within him. He should work on healing his heart, being more emotionally open and to not be too in his head and too analytical. I feel this is regards to his relationships. There could be opportunities for love with him, but he tends to overanalyze things and things don't move forward.

There is this need for him to find himself, to love and accept himself. But there is a need for closure for him to be able to find that peace within him. When he is able to find that closure and to close that chapter. He will be able to find strength. To gain his power back. This is a time for him to transform himself. To become a better version of himself. To break out of the cocoon they created for him. There is a lot of stress and tension built within him. He may need to practice breath work to help him through this process. There is this need for him to control others, the narrative, this may be in relationships. As he may not have much control in other matters of his life, or even body. He may need the control in his relationships to balance that. But that creates problems in his relationships. I can see him being clingy as well, and that can be a problem as well.

Alright, let's finalize this with Tarot. Interest combo of cards, so these cards give me an indication of someone speaking out and wanting to make changes, so he may do that. He may speak out about the struggles of the industry. With the Queen of Swords, he tends to be good at detaching from his emotions, people can do that once traumatized, but some people are just this way. I am just getting from this card and the King of Wands, is sharing information, speaking up, not sure where this is coming from, or if he will, but his energy wants to share, to speak to the masses and share his story. Not sure, he would tell the full story though. I am just getting there could be something he says that may change things. He is the type that wants to confront things and create some sort of movement. But he is also bold and willing to face any challenges that come his way. Loving this ending energy. Now, he does have this energy, but these cards could indicate it is something he should do, but may not do, because there are insecurities that may hold him back.

Okay, why I love these reading is because it helps me understand the idol so much more, but the first part was difficult as it always tends to be. But he comes off as a bad ass in the end. It just gives me more of an understanding to why they behave the way they do in my shorter readings.

[isattt]

Part 1 - Warning: Suicide mention.

Tags: Haunted house, anypov (?), yandere level: low.

Theme: romance, spooky? (Not that much)

You stared at your phone, looking incredulously at the screen. The apartment was dirt cheap and thirty minutes from the university you attended. This really can’t be real... there had to be a catch, you knew that meant for sure there was something wrong with it, but as you eyed the price again, you just couldn’t bring yourself to let this opportunity pass, not after looking for so long.

When you first visited, the place appeared abandoned, with cobwebs and covered in a thin layer of dust. The landlord, a formal-looking man, reassured you that all appliances, despite the old appearance, were working perfectly.

“And well, if you need anything fixed, I will do it for you in a heartbeat, alright?” The man says, with a wide charming smile on his face, “Don’t be shy to come to me.” He says, patting away the dust from the top of the microwave.

You eyed the place, your eyes landing back to his. “If you don’t mind me asking... Why is it so cheap?” You ask, noticing the dust covered hoops with half made embroideries of delicate flowers, maybe someone old who passed away...? you think to yourself.

“Heh...” He says, with a humorlessly chuckle to himself, his smile quickly faltering “Well... a guy… he… you know...” He says with a slight tremble to his voice, rubbing his arm nervously “Sorry... It’s hard even thinking about it... I wish I could have done more...”

Your eyes widened slightly, quickly acknowledging what he was trying to say. You looked at him with a sympathetic gaze, taking his words in “Oh, I’m so sorry I… I didn’t realize.“  

“It’s alright, pal.” He says reassuringly, putting on a braver front. “I’m actually more worried about you now, you know? You alright with that?” He walks closer, carefully putting a hand on your shoulder. “Things like these make folks uncomfortable. I myself wouldn’t be able to do it.“

You stare at him, before looking away “Well... it’s pretty disturbing, obviously...-”, you say with a sigh “-but I really need it so...”

“I get you, I do,” He nods. “Hopefully, I can make you feel at home. Call my number if you need something, anything, alright? I really am not kidding,” He furrowed his brows, looking at the piles of hoops with a pensive look “So-” He suddenly clasps his hands together putting on a weaker smile than before “-when you move in it will be all cleaned up, I got you”

You mirrored his small smile with one of your own. “Thanks, Will.”

It’s been one week since you have moved in and you have settled in nicely. William did a good job cleaning everything. When you came back, it was almost like you stepped into a completely different place. Even the air of the place was new and lighter, even if still slightly cold.

Ever since then, nothing unusual has happened. You spend your days the same as any other day, just now in a smaller home than before.

Well, almost nothing unusual. The house was always chilly, making weird noises from time to time, and you often had nightmares about a tall man just standing at the foot of your bed, watching you sleep. But you would not let your paranoia drive you away from the best apartment you’ve found after almost a month of searching. Ghosts, demons, and such didn’t exist, after all. When the semester starts, it will be all worth it, you repeat to yourself, trying to find some solace in this situation.

Once you got home that evening after going out to buy your groceries, you noticed an odd recent addition to your wall, just by the entrance, a CO2 meter. Did William install it while you were gone? It was odd though, you never thought he would be the type of landlord to just enter your place uninvited. It was unlike him to invade your privacy.

You decide to take out your phone. Looking at the contacts, you send a quick message to him, trying to understand his intentions. Could it be something that was scheduled that I didn’t know about?  You thought to yourself as you typed your message, “Hey will, what’s up with the CO2 meter?” You hit send, putting your phone aside for a moment on the counter to unload your groceries.

“CO2 meter?” the screen lights up with his reply. You quickly pick your phone back up to reply, “The one you installed?” you furrow your brows, staring at his text with a confused look. Did he forget?  You keep staring at your screen, anxiously waiting for a reply... 

“I didn’t install a CO2 meter.”

“Is everything okay? Do you need me to come over??”

You suddenly feel the familiar cold from the apartment enveloping your body, making you shiver slightly. What could this even mean for you? Would someone really break inside your place only to put something like this and nothing else...? You for sure needed to take that thing down at least It might be a hidden camera or something.

“I don’t know, to be honest.” You reply to him.

“I looked at the cameras in the hallway for you, but I found nothing, pal.” He said, fixing his glasses on his nose with one hand.

William was sitting at your table, sipping on the cup of tea you had given him. He arrived not much later after your text, coming immediately to check on you. “It’s too damn bad I can’t be more helpful here. Even the cameras on the outside found nothing unusual.” He says, taking another sip of his tea.

You were leaning against the wall, staring at him while holding your own cup of tea, the warmth of the liquid providing you a sliver of comfort in this situation. “It’s okay... this is already better news than I expected,” you say as you shift your weight onto your other leg. “Maybe it was always there and, ugh, I don’t know, maybe I didn’t notice it before.” 

“Well... hah...” He brought the cup to his lips, hesitating before taking a drink of the hot liquid. “I noticed something though...” He continues, “It’s nothing horrible, I mean… It’s just... well, you can see for yourself” He lowered his cup to the table, bringing his phone out of his pocket.

You sit down in the chair by his side, dragging the chair closer to him. When your shoulders touch, William flinches slightly, but keeps the phone in place. You look between his eyes and the screen with a curious look.

The screen of his phone showed you the camera feed of your hallway. The timestamp showed it was around noon, a few hours before you found the CO2 meter on your wall. It was empty, no one coming or going. 

“Around here,” William said, forwarding the video. Nothing changed, still the same empty hallway. Before you could ask him what he had seen, the feed showed your door opening. No one came out, of course. You weren’t at home.

Then… the door closed by itself, the same way it had opened.

“What...” you muttered, staring at the screen with wide eyes. “But I locked the door...”

“I imagined you did.” He looks at you, an uncertain look on his face. “What do you think of setting cameras inside here? I could lend you one of mine.”

“Maybe...” you say, still shaken by what you had seen. You feel the chilly atmosphere of the house again, creeping up your spine. “I wasn’t so much worried about the meter anymore, but this is something else.”

He leans back against his chair, creating some distance between you two as he puts his phone away. “Look, I’m not trying to imply anything, but these sorts of things have been happening all the time. Folks come here, these things happen... they leave.”

He grabs the cup once again, running his finger over the rim of the cup. “I am not one to believe in ghosts, but…”

“If these things exist, at least the fella who is haunting you is the least dangerous ghost you could have, hm?” He says with a small smile, a wistful look on his face.

You raise an eyebrow at his statement, while he could be right, it’s hard to believe, given your circumstances “Well, he is still creeping me out, even if that’s the case...” You say harshly, suddenly feeling the cold air of the room leaving.

He nods understandingly “Mhm, I can understand,” he pauses, emptying his cup of now lukewarm tea and standing up to put the cup on the sink “I don’t know why, but it’s been a lot more active with you than with everyone else... when you sat close to me just now, I felt like someone was staring daggers at me! Hahaha!”

He finishes washing his own cup, walking to stand in front of you. “If you see him, tell him I miss his nerdy ass!” he says, grinning widely. “Let’s just install those cameras so you can sleep easy at night, alright?”

[unavailableapple]

Excuse me for coming to your askbox, I am not a radfem and don't agree with a lot of it's principles, yet I find radfem spaces are the only place where discussion of nonbinary identity has any nuance. Personally I have no problem with people doing whatever they want with their own bodies/minds/labels but I did struggle to wrap my head around just how many people started IDing as nonbinary during the last few years. Now recently it's been a bit of the opposite, with a noticeable amount of previously out and proud nonbinary people dropping the label. I've heard some people discuss it like it was just "in fashion" for a while, while others insist it's a result of gender experimentation or having to go back in the closet due to the political climate. But it's not just the young, I noticed that includes some of the first nb people I knew, who were nonbinary before 2020, hell, before 2015. I know you had a similar experience, so I just wanted to hear your opinion on this whole phenomenon, why it's happening and why now, and if you expect the trend to continue?

So I’ve been thinking about this a lot and honestly the short answer is: I’m not sure.

The long answer:

I think that these things come in waves. Think about BBL surgery (Brazilian butt-lift surgery). When that surgery was really popular, I’m sure it felt like a very real need to the women who got it. Similarly, my nonbinary identity felt very real to me. But once you apply any amount of pressure to either of these, they start to break. Because really what does it mean to be nonbinary? Why do I NEED to express myself as nonbinary? Why does she NEED to have a large posterior? Eventually you realize, it is misogyny. That’s all it is. And then the whole thing falls apart…Aside from that, even if you don’t acknowledge the misogyny, these things are ultimately superficial and, as such, fall away once one reaches a certain point of adulthood.

I don’t mean adulthood as in becoming an adult human I mean adulthood as in a certain level of struggle that makes fanciful discussions of pronouns seem taxing. Eventually real life catches up and you don’t feel like wasting your precious free time thinking about whether you use they, she, he, or meow pronouns. I think the lasting effects of COVID have meant terrible things for the general public and a lot of people are struggling to pay rent or afford food. I know that what first made me stop caring about pronouns was when I was homeless and thought a lot more about finding a safe place to sleep than making sure everyone calls me he/meow/it pronouns.

Then I think there’s the climate of the trans community right now. When I was younger, there was an idea of, “Being trans is equally hard for males AND females”. But now the dominant narrative seems to be that trans identified males have it a thousand times harder being trans and trans identified females face no oppression at all. I do think this drives more trans identified females out of trans spaces and leads them to find more community with other women. This was the case for several of my friends. Once the trans community told them, “You don’t face any oppression” even though they did (by right of being female), they stopped feeling aligned with a nonbinary identity and suddenly realized they felt more aligned with being female, on the basis of shared experiences.

Finally, it could genuinely just be that it’s falling out of fashion. I’m of an era where I, like a lot of young women my age, was the froggy jumper round glasses meow/it pronoun using boyflux aligned aroace nonbinary person and that was in style. Nowadays kids on TikTok make fun of that and it’s much less “in”. Recently Mitski cut her hair short and people started calling her “theyfab”. For the uninitiated, theyfab is a rude term the trans community uses for a female person who identifies as nonbinary, especially if she doesn’t do anything to express this nonbinary identity beyond cutting her hair. They were not trying to “affirm” Mitski, they were making fun of her for being a gender nonconforming woman, and they were making fun of the women who identify as nonbinary. No matter what, it’s always “in” to make fun of women so if a lot of women are identifying as nonbinary, it’s going to be “in” to make fun of them and it is. On pinterest, Nonbinary identities are already being relegated to “2010s nostalgia” the way moustache tattoos on pointer fingers are “2000s nostalgia”, these things come and go.

So yeah, I ultimately don’t know, and these are only a couple among my many many MANY different theories. But based on my own experience and the experiences of people I know, this is what I’ve been thinking.