#and then they would make a video and tag me

[donkoogrr]

"win a MMORPG" is from when my brother was showing me the Sword Art Online Abridged series. Apparently, everyone is trapped in the video game until someone 'wins' and the crowd of players were like "??? My evil dude, do you even know what this game IS??? There is no winning."

I loved your tags, btw. And yes, I imagine Dick would make a point to check in with Tim about him and his friends, and maybe put out some feelers to the adults in the other kids' lives to check in.

I think Tim and Dick would both want to keep a familial relationship with each other and they'd both be the type to put in the effort. It wouldn't be the same relationship, but that's the thing! That's normal! Sibling relationships change as people grow up and no longer live so closely together. Like everything else in life, it takes work.

I wonder how much of the Young Justice run files would Dick have had access to at the time they were occurring? Does he know about Gun Batman, Santa's death, and that time Empress killed Jason Todd, or did Tim just file that paperwork and never bring it up? Maybe Young Justice in general is a sore point between Tim and Dick because it was YJ's inexperience that got Donna killed.

I fully believe in the Suicide Pact tho. If one of them can't be talked down, or brought back to sanity, or contained from becoming their worst nightmares, the other three will take them out and it will destroy them all to do it. "If your last act is for us to have your blood on our hands, then your hands will be just as bloody. We go together, bitches. Mutual assured destruction."

I don't remember whether canon revealed Tim's specific Hit List contingencies or not, I lost that comic book awhile ago.

So I'd like to make shit up and invite people to add to the list. I've said before that I like to imagine that Damian just found the Hit List file and saw himself and immediately went to Nightwing, and I think it'd be funny if the Hit List was actually either A) Tim's customized playlists for everyone or B) the stupidest plans that might work as a mockery of Batman's contingency list.

In this episode I want to focus on option B, what would be on the Stupid Plans List if someone goes evil.

Damian - erase his Cheese Viking saves. Tell him his sketches of Batman are technically furry art. Buy him Robux???

Dick - lead him to Gotham zoo, get him to the elephants. Strategically leave powdered sedatives on ground, hope he licks? Dress as Jaybin, talk him down as hallucination.

Jason - just cut my own throat this time fuck.

Bruce - call Clark. Call Diana.

Cass - aw shit here we go again

Steph - Join. As a treat.

Cassie, Kon, Bart - all else fails, Core Four Suicide Pact 👍

Ra's - tell him I'll be his heir if he wins an MMORPG of my choice. Maybe he'll forget to Lazarus bathe?

[shysuccubusstuff]

Puppy! Caleb pt. 2

Content: Puppy! Caleb + non proof-reader; Clingy Caleb + Submissive then top + somnophilia + Cunnilingus + Manipulation + Obsessed! Caleb + Anxious! Caleb + dubcon (somnophilia) to consensual + Crying! Caleb + overstimulation + Size difference + dacryphilia + aftercare.

Word count: 1,982 words

Summary: With the beginning of your holidays, Caleb was already planning how the two of you would spend the days together, of course. So how will he react when you end up going out for the whole day most of the days?

Note: Just saw this cute video of a puppy in which his owner lets the leash fall and he looked so confused and cute... Uni is always so draining... Even when we have holidays in between, it seems I'm always tired :( It's funny that I tend to publish more when I'm busier, this is more dark in a sense, so make sure to read the tags before reading it please! Let me know if there are any tags missing cause I may have forgotten about it :(

Tag: @namjooningera

After several days working yourself to the bone, it was finally time for a well deserved rest, with them giving you over a week to rest completely before going back to work.

Of course you took the chance to rest, spending most of the days simply laying in bed with Puppy! Caleb by your side, his bigger body radiating warmth , making you nuzzle against him, even using his chest as a pillow to rest, allowing you to hear his rapid heartbeat, his hot breath hitting against your ear as the two of you rested together.

As for Caleb... ecstatic was an understatement. The second you told him that you were going to stay home for a whole week, Caleb's tail was already out of control, hitting against the door rapidly as he tried to keep himself under control. A whole week with you? Gosh, he could lick your whole face, that was the greatest new you had told him in quite a long time! He was already planning the many different activities the two of you could do... maybe going to that park the two of you used to go when you had more free time, even trying that new restaurant that you had saved on your phone... Oh, he had to keep himself in control, if not, he could accidentally lose his control over him... Yeah, he just had to keep himself calm... right?

Well, of course his plans would get messed up. The only day you spent the "whole" day at home was the day your holidays started, and well, not like it was the whole day as such, as you had to go to work in the morning. As soon as you had free time, your different friends started to ask you to hangout, not only those nice ladies that he had seen before, but also some unknown men that kept flooding your phone with messages and calls, sometimes even daring to appear at your doorstep, just who did they think they are? Still, Caleb tried to keep himself in check, busying himself by helping you around the house, making your food, laundry, cleaning the whole house as an attempt to regain your attention, his ears low, tail barely moving as put his whole focus on keeping you happy. But as the days went on and with you barely spending time with him, it finally got to him. Caleb started to become clingier, with him constantly following you around the house, tail wagging as he kept looking at everything you did, his arms wrapping around your leg each time he saw you starting to get ready, eyes watering as he begged you with those soft purple eyes.

And, how could you simply leave him like that? Of course this was soon taken advantage of by Caleb, with him always giving you that needy and helpless look every time he felt that you were even planning on leaving him alone. Then, as Caleb started to realise that you never got angry at him, even when he started to become even clingier, now even daring to wrap his whole body around your smaller frame each time you woke up, tail wrapped around your leg even as the two of you were sleeping. Then he even dared to leave subtle bite marks all over your neck, slowly making his way to the rest of your body, even in places that were definitely not supposed to be marked. And regardless of how much you told him to leave your poor body alone, as the marks that had been left by him started to look more like hickeys, rather than playful bites...

You should have known better than to try to sneak away from him... I mean, why would you even try to do that? Of course he had noticed that each time you went out to buy some groceries, you always forbid him from accompanying you, always using some old excuse such as "Oh, I don't want to bother you!" Did you think he was just some slightly bigger mut? He kept wondering, just when did you begin to try and hide stuff from him? You had always relied on him, ever since you found him close to dying in that park long time ago... Did you actually stop loving him? These type of thoughts began to flood his brain, nails digging anxiously on his pillow, sometimes even grabbing your pyjamas and pulling from them, always waking you up in the middle of the night as fat tears rolled down his cheeks.

This started to worry you, as Caleb always pretended to be fine, his lips always curving into a smile every single you looked at him, almost as if he hadn't spent the whole night whimpering and crying against the pillow, his arms holding you against his body as if he was afraid of you running away in the middle of the night. Instead of telling him that you knew, you chose to ignore it, after all, it wasn't the first time Caleb had been acting strange, with him always trying to mark you as his every single chance he got. Surely this was just one of those times, right?

You kept telling that to yourself, but this sweet dream of yours soon came crushing down the moment you woke up in the middle of the night. This time, instead of finding your sweet puppy crying in his sleep you found him somewhere else. Caleb was still crying, fat tears running down his cheeks as he licked your lower half, his warm tongue slowly running down your slit as he kept your legs open for him. "Caleb?... Just what are you doing?" Caleb ignored you, his eyes only focused on the way your pussy was glistening under the dim light that was entering through the window. You tried to stop him, already feeling how your pussy was starting to react to his soft lips sucking on your poor clit while his fingers started to press against your entrance, eyes still fixed on your entrance and how it kept pulsing against his fingertips. "Caleb, just-- wait a second... What are you even doing at this hour?" You grabbed him from his hair, pulling a bit to try and get him to leave your pussy alone so you could actually focus on reprimending him, all of your efforts were effortless, only making Caleb's grip get stronger around your thigs as he started to use his tongue to fuck your entrance.

"Don't leave me." Caleb's words barely reached your ears due to the constant flow of lewd sounds that kept escaping from your lips, small tears starting to form in your eyes as the feeling started to get a bit overwhelming. "Why can't you just let me stay with you?..." Caleb kept mumbling, his warm breath hitting against your entrance as he spoke making your whole body shiver from the sudden stop of stimulation. "Does he even treat you like I do?... Cooking for you, cleaning for you... I have been behaving for so long just so you wouldn't find me annoying... but if being clingy means I can have you all to myself, then I can bear having you hating me a bit..." Caleb suddenly moved his mouth back to your overstimulated cunt, using his tongue to suck on your clit as he used two of his fingers to prep you, slowly entering one of them as he kept using your slick to get the other finger wet.

"...What? I-- I wasn't planning on leaving you, Caleb! He... He was just a coworker, he just wanted to ask me something about-- fuck! About work-- I won't leave you ever!" You were barely able to form the full sentence, your whole head starting to feel extremely hot as Caleb kept increasing the rhythm each time he felt your walls pulse against his digits. Caleb abruptly stopped, eyes fixed on your reddened face as his tears stopped for a second.

"You promise? Promise you won't leave me, please." You nodded without hesitation, making Caleb smile brightly through his tears, almost as if he had planned everything since the beginning... Well, it's not like he gave you much time to analyse his expression, as he suddenly entered his other finger, pressing his fingertips against that spot, making your legs flinch, almost closing them if it wasn't for Caleb's arm keeping them in place. "No running, let me show you just a small fragment of just how much I cherish you." Caleb moved closer towards you, now resting on his arm as he used his right hand to properly fuck your entrance, his fingers causing you to shudder each time they moved inside you, kissing your lips with extreme passion as he kept preparing you, his tongue fucking your mouth, cooing at you each time he saw your eyes rolling to the back of your skull each time he made you wet his hand even more. "Just a bit more, be a good girl and let me take care of you..."

You kept cursing Caleb for more than five minutes, constantly calling out his name and whinning, nails digging on his chest as he kept forcing you to cum all over his hand, making a huge contrast between the soft kisses he was planting all over your face and neck while he used his rough hand to torture your already overstimulated pussy. "Caleb!... Can't-- can't cum anymore! Let me go~... Just a small break, can't think!" Caleb smiled at you, almost giving you an ominous grin as he suddenly stopped, taking out his fingers as he got up, moving in between your legs, the reddened tip of his knot now pressing against your tummy.

"Open wide for me, pips..." Caleb entered you little by little, the stretch making you mewl as you bit his shoulder. "Shh... So good for me... you're taking me so well." Caleb kept kissing your forehead, planting a few kisses all over your wet cheeks as he finally bottomed out, staying still for some time until he felt your walls getting used to him. As soon as he felt it, you knew it was over for you, his hips now setting a ruthless pace, making you cling to him as your nails digged on his back, leaving red marks all over it each time the tip of his cock hit against your cervix.

"Too much! You're too big Caleb-- wait... just a second!" But Caleb was too far gone by now, mindlessly moving his hips as he grapped you by your ankles, changing the position into one that forced you to see how his cock entered you each time, with Caleb suddenly slowing down, smiling at you as he saw almost in trance how his dick entered you, some of his precum getting out and making your cunt glow under the moonlight, then swiftly going back to plummeting your poor cunt until he had you creaming all around his dick, face completely stained by tears of pleasure.

By the time you felt Caleb finally letting you rest, it had been maybe over four rounds, with him not stopping even as you felt how his knot grew inside you, letting you rest for around fifteen minutes before going back to (what he felt was) his duty as your one and only protector. As you took a deep breath, you felt him lifting you up from the bed, kissing your forehead as he made his way into the bath, the warm water hitting your whole body and letting the tension and sweat drift away, making your eyelids feel even heavier as he started to pass a soft cloth all over your body. You could still hear the faint sound of the water dropplets falling to the bathtub as you let Caleb take care of you.

[cheriedivine]

Handcuffed couple challenge (youtuber!Ellie x reader)

♡‧₊˚₊✧ pairing: Ellie Williams x Fem reader (No use of y/n)

♡‧₊˚₊✧ summary: Filming a handcuffed couple challenge with Ellie, what could possibly go wrong?

♡‧₊˚₊✧ CW: Slightly suggestive jokes, Swearing, use of pet names (bae, babe, baby) just Ellie and reader being silly

♡‧₊˚₊✧ Tags: youtuber!Ellie, youtuber!reader, stablished relationship, oneshot, fluff

♡‧₊˚₊✧ WC: 7.4K (lol)

♡‧₊˚₊✧ Author’s note: HEYYY SO IT’S FINALLY HERE, you guys have no idea how much I enjoyed writing this, ofc it’s based on Izzy&Emma’s latest yt video where they do the 24hrs handcuffed, but i gave it my own twist hehe, I hope you guys enjoy it and lmk what you think! also i’m open to requests if y’all want anything in specific. that’s all luv u enjoy <3

୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧

One thing about Ellie Williams is that when something gets into that pretty little head of hers, you are doomed. Especially when it comes to recording a video for your shared youtube channel.

This time was no different.

It was 2am when Ellie, half-asleep and deep in a TikTok scroll spiral, stumbled across a video of a couple doing a ridiculous cooking challenge handcuffed together, laughing and making a complete mess of their kitchen. That was all it took.

The next morning, you woke up in an empty bed. Your girlfriend? Nowhere to be seen. Weird… You thought,

You blinked at the ceiling for a moment, brain foggy with sleep, before shrugging it off. She probably hit the gym early or something, she did that sometimes. Still half-asleep, you sank deeper into the blankets and started your usual doom scrolling, checking socials, reading comments, answering emails. The usual.

An hour passed, and your stomach started to grumble from the lack of food. You glanced at the time, then at the door. “Where the hell is she?” You debated waiting for her to eat, but curiosity won so you pulled up her contact to text her. But you can swear this girl is telepathically connected to you because as soon as you clicked on her contact, a message from her popped up like she was psychic.

“Has your majesty risen yet? I’m bringing breakfast ;)”

You rolled your eyes, already smirking.

“U are such a loser. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Miss me much?”

You didn’t even have to see her to know she was surely wearing that smug stupid little grin the one that made you want to kiss her and throw a pillow at her face at the same time.

With a dramatic sigh, you finally rolled out of bed, heading to the bathroom for your morning skincare routine. The splash of cold water brought you fully to life. You threw on one of Ellie’s hoodies — for warmth, obviously, not because it still smelled like her, and shuffled into the kitchen to feed your cat.

“Pspspsps, T-Rex. Breakfast is served,” you called, holding the food dish. The little fur ball meowed like he hadn’t eaten in a decade, purring as you scratched the back of his head.

That’s when you heard the front door unlock.

Ellie walked in, balancing a pair of grocery bags and a cardboard drink carrier with two coffee cups. Her hoodie sleeves were pushed up, her tattoo flexing on her forearm and there was a determined (and slightly unhinged) look in her eyes.

You blinked. “Ellie, what the hell? We weren’t supposed to do groceries ‘til Sunday.”

She dropped the bags on the counter and grinned. “Good morning to you too. And yes, I slept great, thanks for asking, babe.” You narrowed your eyes as she handed you a warm breakfast bagel and your favorite coffee.

“…What’s with the groceries and surprise breakfast? What did you do?”

“Can’t I just do something nice for my beautiful girlfriend that I love sooo much?” she said with that shit-eating grin that meant she was absolutely up to something.

“Spill. Now.”

She of course cracked immediately.

“So. I had an idea. Okay? A great one. Picture this: you and me. Handcuffed. In the kitchen.”

You froze. “Woah, woah hold your horses, number 1 why would i want to be handcuffed and number 2 where the fuck are we even supposed to get handcuffs?”

“Jesse” she replied casually.

“GROSS…That’s disgusting.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t want to be handcuffed to me?” Ellie gasped, placing both hands dramatically over her chest. “Wow. Okay. You hate me.”

“You are the most dramatic person on this entire planet I swear” you muttered, already regretting your life choices.

“You’re telling me you don’t want to see me try to knead pizza dough with one hand while handcuffed to you?”

You stared at her. She grinned wider.

“I hate you,” you said flatly, taking a long sip of your coffee.

“No, you don’t.”

And unfortunately for you — she was right.

Ellie proceeded to lay out the entire chaotic plan (which, in hindsight, explained the suspiciously full grocery bags). She showed you the TikTok video that had inspired her latest hyperfixation — some couple fumbling through a cooking challenge while handcuffed. “Look at them,” she said, scoffing. “We’d be so much better than this. They didn’t even season their sauce!”

It took a full hour of bargaining, bribery, and Ellie promising to do all the chores for the next two weeks before you finally caved. Truthfully, a small part of you was curious how badly it could go… plus, being handcuffed to Ellie wasn’t exactly the worst fate in the world.

Ellie dragged out the tripod from the closet, the one that had a chipped leg because she refused to buy another one “It works just fine” she said— and began adjusting it like she was some kind of professional cinematographer. Meanwhile, you were getting ready in your room, doing your everyday makeup, some light blush, mascara and setting powder so the light wouldn’t reflect directly on your face, your routine was simple but familiar. You changed Ellie’s hoodie into a plain black shirt that fitted you like a glove, because why not, at the end you still wanted to look good.

Ellie adjusted the tripod one last time, squinting into the tiny screen like she was defusing a bomb. “Okay… I think it’s straight?, the lighting is kinda shit tho” Ellie muttered, twisting the ring light toward your side. “There. Now let’s get this bitch started shall we?” With that Ellie hit the record button, rushed to your side with the handcuffs clinking in her grip, and threw an arm around you.

“Hey losers,” she grinned at the camera. “Welcome back to our channel.” You waved dramatically. “Today, we’re doing something incredibly stupid, which of course was... Ellie’s idea.”

Ellie held up the handcuffs like a trophy. “We’re making a pizza while being handcuffed together,” she said, eyes glinting with mischief. “And before anyone starts—no, these aren’t from last night. These are borrowed. Unfortunately.” You gave the camera a deadpan stare. “Oh my god. Literally everything could go wrong.”

“Okay so who’s gonna be on which side” Ellie raised a brow before putting the handcuffs on, “Wait… are we both right handed?” you questioned, pausing mid-thought. Ellie gave you an offended look. “You should remember if i'm right handed babe” Your girlfriend said teasingly giving you a wink.

“You are such a perv,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes. Then, turning to the camera like you were addressing a live audience: “Well, since I’m the one who actually cooks in this household, I think I deserve to have my right hand free.”

Ellie scoffed. “Um, yeah, but I’ve got more strength in my right hand, so I could knead the dough way better.” To prove her point, she flexed her arm like some kind of gym rat. You stared at her. She was ridiculous.

But you had your ways.

Leaning in close—just enough for your lips to nearly graze her cheek—you whispered, low and deliberate. “If I get to have my right hand free… I’ll let you have a little fun with these later.”

She didn’t even say anything before clasping that handcuff immediately to her right hand. Her freckled face turning fifty different shades of red.

“…Fine. You win.”

You grabbed the other side of the handcuff and clicked it around your left wrist.

“Oh my god, I already hate this,” you groaned, trying to stretch your arm while Ellie moved in the opposite direction like she had no concept of shared space.

“Too late to back out now. LET’S GET THIS SHIT STARTED, BABYYYY!” she screamed in her fake frat-boy voice, throwing both arms in the air and nearly dislocating your shoulder in the process.

You winced. “How about you try not to break my wrist before we even start.”

She grinned like a menace. “Sorry babe. Kinda forgot we were attached for a sec.”

“Did you even look up a recipe before deciding to do this?” you asked, already knowing the answer. She blinked. “Um…nope”

You sighed.

Of course not. That’s why you had been stuck scrolling through your phone for the past ten minutes, trying to find the easiest homemade pizza recipe on the internet—while your hand was getting jerked around like a ragdoll.

“Okay, genius. We need: flour, yeast, olive oil, salt, sugar, and warm water.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Bet. Let’s get this bread. Literally.”

You started pulling ingredients out of the bags while Ellie, predictably, got in the way at every turn.

“Left!”

“Your left or my left?!”

“We share a left right now!”

Ellie poured the flour onto the counter, way too enthusiastically.

“Bae… slow down, this isn’t a sandbox,” you warned, watching the powdery mountain grow taller and messier by the second.

“No no no—this is the volcano thingy! We’re doing it all fancy,” she said, using her fingers to dig a little well in the center like she'd seen on TikTok. “Now pour the warm water and yeast in here,” she added, nodding toward the crater like she was a Michelin-star chef.

You raised a brow. “You’re acting like you’ve trained in Italy. You watched a 30-second reel.”

“Don’t disrespect my culinary heritage,” she said, her hands now fully coated in flour. You leaned in, cautiously pouring the mixture into the well… but oh dear you were mistaken thinking Ellie was gonna behave. She looked directly to the camera and blinked before her flour-covered hand left the dough volcano, and smacked right onto your boob.

SMACK.

A perfect, powdery handprint appeared on your favorite shirt.

You froze. Blinked. Looked down slowly like you were in a movie about to go rogue.

“Ellie Williams…” you said, dangerously calm.

“What?” she grinned, so smug you considered throwing her into the volcano. “Just cleaning off my hand.”

“On my favorite shirt.”

“It’s a work of art, I left my mark. Like a signature. That’s love, baby.”

You gave the camera a long, deadpan stare. T-Rex meowed behind you rubbing his little head against your leg like he understood the gravity of the situation.

“You’re gonna pay for that.”

Ellie’s grin only widened. “Oh no!. Am I gonna get punished?” she asked, voice dipping into a mock pout.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile as you swiped some flour off the counter and flicked it right into her face.

“Oh it’s on now.”

Despite the chaos, the kitchen started filling with the warm scent of yeast and flour mixing as you combined everything, Ellie took over the kneading (with her left hand, of course), turning it into a flexing contest.

“Check this out,” she said, rolling up her sleeve and smirking at the camera. “These biceps? Built for dough.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to smile at how seriously she was taking herself. She flexed her arm, giving a playful wink before getting to work on the dough, her hand moving with surprising precision.

“Alright, go ahead and knead that dough, big shot. Show me what those ‘dough-building’ muscles can do,” you teased, arms crossed, watching her go full-on chef mode.

Ellie scoffed but didn’t hesitate, her hands sinking into the dough with exaggerated care. “This right here? The art of pizza-making. Watch and learn.”

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, eyes trailing down her flexed arm. Your gaze lingered on the tattoo on her forearm—the intricate design that you loved more than you'd ever admit.

“Damn,” you said, letting out a low whistle. “Those arms... and that tattoo? I’m gonna need a moment to compose myself.”

You stood next to her, trying to hold back your giggles, but the flour-covered chaos around you only made it harder to be serious. T-Rex jumped on the flour covered counter, sniffing the dough like he was ready to apply his biscuit kneading technique. "Hey, not you too," you said, shooing the cat away.

Ellie, of course, had no intention of letting this become a normal cooking session. She threw you a smirk. “So, you’re just gonna stand there and look cute while I do all the work?”

“Obviously," you replied, leaning back against the counter, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Somebody has to keep the camera in focus while you work."

“Right,” Ellie said, rolling her eyes as she continued kneading. “You’re just here for moral support and laugh at my flour-covered face.”

"True," you agreed, brushing the tip of her nose with your flour coated finger, you could tell that despite the playful banter, Ellie was surprisingly proud of her skills—despite the flour in her hair, and the random stray bits of dough sticking to her shirt. She paused for a moment, looking over at the camera. “You guys, this is actually kind of fun. like the adult version of slime”

“Who said adults can’t play with slime” you pouted jokingly, “Society.” you laughed out loud at the brunettes response, Ellie grinned, obviously pleased with the teamwork. “Just wait ‘til the pizza’s done. I’m gonna blow your mind, babe.”

“Ok now we need to let the dough rest for about two hours, or until it’s doubled in size—“ “WHAT? TWO FREAKING HOURS?” your girlfriend interrupted, clearly upset by the statement. “Yes Ellie…, now don't be impatient and let’s start with the marinara sauce” you tried cheering her up by occupying her mind on something else.

Ellie dragged you to where the tripod was situated, almost safely and changed it’s angle so the camera got a better view of you and the stove, “Alright all set, so what’s next babe?” she asked, looking at you with her mesmerizing green eyes. “Wait i got distracted— Ok so now we open the tomato cans and pour them into the pot with a little bit of olive oil, a garlic clove, some basil leaves and obviously salt and pepper”.

“Okayyyy chef, see guys that’s why she stays in the kitchen— wait that sounded so wrong… does that count as sexism if we’re lesbians?” Ellie said worried, but you laughed easing her nerves a bit “You are so stupid I think i'm in love with you” She blushed at your comment and proceeded to try and open the can, and try in the sense that you were holding the can while she placed the can opener on the brim of the can. “Why is this shit so hard bro”

Finally after battling with the can for a few minutes Ellie managed to get it open, triumphantly holding up the can opener with a smug grin on her face. “Hey, babe, check this out.” She held the tool in front of you like it was some sort of weapon, pointing at it dramatically. “This... is a can opener,” she said with a wink, then pointed at herself with a teasing smirk. “And this... is a leg opener.” There was a pause before you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you reached for the camera. “I swear, I’m deleting this footage later, just so you know.”

With a final defeated sigh, Ellie popped open the tomato sauce can. “See, I’m good at this.” she said as she started to pour the sauce into the pot. But just as she tilted the can, a little too much sauce splashed up and hit her favorite hoodie. Tiny bright red sauce drops splattered in the center of her chest.

You couldn't help but burst out laughing. “That is literally karma” you teased, your voice dripping with mock pity. “Looks like it’s your turn to clean up, chef.”

Ellie looked down at the red stain, then back at you, unphased. She wiped a bit of sauce off her hoodie with the back of her hand and smirked. “See, this is what happens when yall don’t appreciate my cooking skills.”

“STOP ELLIE YOU’RE MAKING IT WORSE, DON'T WIPE THE SAUCE OFF YOU'RE MAKING A MESS ” you whined at your girlfriend, the hoodie was in fact worse than before. That sauce was not going to come off anytime soon “The only mess i wanna make is the one with your—“ You smacked your free hand on her mouth before she could even finish the sentence. “One more dirty joke and I’m duct taping your mouth shut” you warned her, eyes fixed on hers.

Her eyes sparkled like she might actually enjoy that. You narrowed yours in return.

“Anyway,” you sighed dramatically, turning to face the camera again. “Back to the video. We’re gonna let the sauce simmer with some seasoning and, fingers crossed, it’ll turn out edible.”

Ellie leaned in to sniff the pot. “Smells good. Gordom Ramsey BEWARE we’re coming for you”

You laughed and grabbed your phone again. “Okay, while that simmers, we can start chopping the toppings. You’re on mushroom duty.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow. “You’re letting me handle the knife? While we’re handcuffed?” She said looking directly at the camera like she was some sort of reality cooking show “I trust you babe, just try not to chop your good fingers off.” you said teasingly, Ellie rolled her eyes and with a sigh she settled a few mushrooms on the cutting board and hoped for the best, “You sure you want ME doing this?…” Ellie looked at you, trying to reverse-psychology herself out of the situation, but when you saw how truly worried she was, you took the responsibility of chopping the toppings, while Ellie placed them on little bowls carefully.

“Okay you know what, maybe we should just settle for a classic pepperoni and cheese pizza…” you said glancing at the terribly chopped mushrooms in front of you, Ellie gave you a side eye that said more than words could tell, and you agreed to keep it simple and overall safe.

“Alright guys the chopping is canceled, sometimes you just gotta accept the defeat and move on, even I have to back off sometimes you know” Ellie said dramatically, like she was giving a pep talk to the camera.

“Ok, ok now what the hell are we supposed to do while we wait for the dough to rise?” you asked your girlfriend, “I know some ways we could kill time you know” She said with that stupid grin on her face.

“I would kill you right now but I’m attached to the crime scene so…” you said flatly, looking her dead in the eye, while she was trying to hold her laughter. This girl is going to be the death of you literally.

After a few minutes of thinking what you could actually do, Ellie leaned back against the counter, tapping her fingers like she was waiting for lightning to strike. You were scrolling through the recipe again, double-checking you hadn’t missed anything—until you noticed she was just staring at you.

“What?” you asked, not even looking up.

“I have an idea.”

You sighed immediately. “Of course you do.”

“Hear me out babe, blindfolded lipstick challenge while also being handcuffed… ” she said, already reaching for her phone, to look for the video that had inspired this idea. “We’ve got at least an hour before the dough’s done doing its thing, right?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Ok I’m in, but you should be the one putting the lipstick on me since you’re the one missing your dominant hand.”

Ellie lit up like a Christmas tree at the idea, pushing herself off the counter and dragging you along by the handcuffs toward the tripod. She grabbed it, still grinning, and carried it to the bathroom, where you both agreed the lighting was better (and the mirror would save your lives). You set the tripod down carefully on the sink, adjusting the camera just enough to keep both of you in the frame. Meanwhile, Ellie fumbled with a sleeping mask, pulling it over her eyes and completely blacking out her vision.

“Alright guys, while we do this, I’m gonna read some of the questions you sent to our Instagram story earlier,” you told the camera, trying not to laugh at how serious Ellie looked fumbling blindly with the lipstick in her hand.

“By the way,” Ellie interrupted, lifting the lipstick like it was a microphone, “if you don’t already follow us, it’s either because you’re a loser or you’re new here. Either way, all our socials are linked down below.”

You snickered under your breath as she tapped around your face, trying to locate your lips with the lipstick.

“Anyway, back to the questions,” you said, pulling out your phone. “First one: How did you guys meet?”

Ellie let out a dramatic sigh, like she was preparing to tell an epic love story. “Ah, finally, a normal question. Okay. So, we met in college. I was majoring in Visual Arts, because obviously, gay. And she—” she nodded blindly toward you, “—was majoring in Film. We crossed paths a few times, and I basically had a huge hallway crush on her.”

You smiled at the memory, leaning into her light touch as she awkwardly dabbed lipstick near your mouth.

“We found out we had a bunch of mutual friends, they introduced us, we started talking... and then you know, classic slow-burn, painfully homoerotic friendship that turned into this," Ellie said, waving the lipstick vaguely at the handcuffs between you. “Very on brand for us.”

You both laughed, the camera catching everything perfectly—the lipstick smudging halfway across your cheek, Ellie’s huge grin under the sleeping mask, and the pure chaos that somehow felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“Yeah at the moment I didn’t realize I was a lesbian yet, so that explains the homoerotic tension and painfully slow burn” you explained while Ellie still struggled to locate the lipstick where it needed to be.

“Dudeee stop moving, I can't do this if you keep talking—“ She said desperately “—Ok wait just let me read this question and I’ll let you do your work” you assured her.

You were mid-scroll, trying to find the next question, when you burst out laughing. “Oh my god—okay wait, this one is messed up. Who even asked this?”

Ellie paused, lipstick still in one hand, her other hand hovering awkwardly over your face. “What is it?”

You cleared your throat dramatically and read it in your best game show host voice.

“Would you rather: see your parents having sex... or have your parents see YOU having sex?”

Ellie ripped off the sleeping mask, like she couldn’t believe her eyes (or more likely her ears). “I think I spoke too fucking soon about you guys submitting normal questions.”

You were already crying, laughing, clutching the sink for balance. “I’m not answering that.”

“Oh no, you read it out loud. Now you have to.”

“I literally can’t choose, both are psychological terrorism.”

Ellie made a face like she was in physical pain. “Okay, okay, I think... I’d rather them see me. Just so I have the power. I can be like, ‘That’s what y’all get for traumatizing me first.’ Turn it into a full circle revenge arc.”

You wheezed. “Oh my god.”

“Now you have to answer,” your girlfriend insisted, like a puppy waiting for a treat. “I think I rather see them having sex, but just because I think i’d be too embarrassed and would actually die on the spot if they saw me, so yeah thats my answer, and also it couldn’t get worse you know—“

“—Ok that’s valid.” She pointed the lipstick at the camera like it was a weapon. “Whoever submitted that, you are sick, why would you even think that”. Ellie laughed, but it came out more like a smirk. She adjusted the sleeping mask back in her eyes again and continued to “apply” the lipstick on you.

“Okay I think I’m almost finished— time for the big reveal now, but close your eyes. On the count of three. One…”

“Two” you said in unison.

“Oh god im scared—“ you said already knowing your face probably looked like you made out with a crayon.

“THREE”

You looked in the mirror, bursting into laughter at the sight of the lipstick smeared well past your lips and halfway down your chin. “I look like I just made out with a clown.”

Ellie beamed. Tears in her eyes from the previous laughing fit “You’re welcome.”

“Ok now it’s my turn” you said, snatching the lipstick from her hand, Ellie was still snorting at your lipstick stained face, admiring her work of art, when you tugged the sleeping mask over your eyes. “Okay, my turn. Hand over your face.”

She scoffed, grabbing your wrist and guiding the lipstick into her face “My beautiful face is ready for the sacrifice.”

“Just stay still and don’t make any faces,” you warned, already gripping her chin with your handcuffed hand like an amateur dentist.

“No promises,” she said, settling back on the toilet lid, legs spread like she was about to do an interview with Vogue. She reached for your phone and scrolled through the next question from the Q&A sticker. “Ooooh, here’s one: ‘What’s your biggest ick about each other?’”

You and Ellie both went “oooooh” at the same time, the camera catching it perfectly.

You grinned mischievously. “I’ll go first. Ellie chews on random shit like a dog. Pens, her hoodie drawstrings, bottle caps… one time I caught her with my AirPods case in her mouth.”

Ellie gasped in mock betrayal. “IT WAS ONE TIME.”

You pointed at her. “One time too many.”

Ellie chuckled darkly. “Alright. My ick for you? You take hours to reply to texts. Like, I’ll send ‘are you alive?’ and you’ll answer six hours later with a meme.”

You shrugged, unapologetic. “I have a very active brain. I can’t be tied down.”

“This is your mouth, right?” you asked, blindly smearing the product around her lips like a toddler with a crayon.

Ellie was laughing. “I think that was my nostril, but I’ll allow it.” You giggled, blindly tapping her cheeks with your fingers.

“Okay, next question,” she said, biting back a giggle as the waxy tip grazed her nose. “Oh my god. You’re drawing on my nose, aren’t you?”

“No. I’m outlining your beautiful upper lip,” you lied blatantly, tongue poking out in focus as you smudged the lipstick across half Ellie’s cheek. “Next question, babe.”

Ellie cleared your throat dramatically. “If aliens came to Earth and offered to take one of you back to their planet forever, who would go?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Ellie. Because she’d cry less than me.”

“True, but also It would give me such good lore”

“Shhh,” you hushed her. “Stay still or I’m gonna give you a mustache.”

She burst out laughing as you smudged even more lipstick on her chin. “I swear to god, you’re using my face like a sketchpad.”

You peeked under the blindfold to see her face—her entire mouth, nose, and even her forehead now stained with lipstick from constantly touching her face mid-application.

You shrieked. “You look like the joker”

She looked at the camera with a straight face. “Guys is it giving performance art makeup yes or no”

“You’re giving a sick Victorian child ” you wheezed, “Can we do one last question please” you asked Ellie, she nodded while looking for one last question to end the little q&a.

“Who said ‘I love you’ first?”

Ellie leaned closer to the camera like she was telling a secret. “It was me. But I thought she was asleep when I said it, so technically I didn’t mean to say it out loud.”

“I was literally AWAKE. I was just pretending to sleep because I was so nervous I felt like my heart was getting ripped off my chest”

“You were fake sleeping?” she gasped. “You mean I confessed my undying love to a decoy?”

“Literally yes. But I said it back the next morning, so it still counts.”

“Okay, but can we just acknowledge how poetic that moment was? Me, whispering ‘I love you’ into your unconscious body like a sad poet?”

“And me pretending to sleep like a coward,” you added.

After a few more minutes of waiting — and filming a whole artsy montage of you both modeling the masterpieces that were your lipstick-smeared faces — the dough had finally doubled in size.

Which meant: pizza assembly time.

“Can I roll the dough?” Ellie asked, already scraping the dough out of the bowl with one hand.

“Of course, babe,” you said sweetly. “Just don’t rip my wrist out of the socket while you do it.”

Ellie shot you a cocky grin, grabbed the wooden rolling pin, and planted her uncuffed hand firmly on the left side. You lined up your hand on the right, both of you teamworking the shit out of it — handcuffed, half-delirious, and still somehow making it work. Once the dough was flattened into a kinda-sorta-acceptable circle, you grabbed the pot of sauce and spread a thick layer across it, narrating every step in your best fake cooking show voice.

“And now, we generously apply our lovingly handcrafted marinara— Ellie, STOP eating the toppings!” you snapped, catching her with a full knuckle of shredded mozzarella halfway to her mouth.

She rolled her eyes and popped it in anyway. “Party pooper.”

You dramatically sighed, sprinkling the rest of the cheese over the pizza. That’s when it hit you.

“Oh, fuck, Ellie, we forgot to preheat the oven!”

Ellie froze mid-bite. “...The oven works? I thought it was like a landlord myth.”

You stared at her in disbelief. “Do you even know how to turn it on?”

She shrugged, wiping her cheese-sticky fingers on her jeans. “Not a clue.”

Still filming — the camera balanced on the counter catching every second of this— you both stared helplessly at the untouched oven. After a few seconds of aimless button pressing and frustrated groaning, Ellie threw her head back.

“That’s it. We’re bringing out the big guns.”

She fished her phone out of her pocket (with much difficulty, considering the handcuffs) and FaceTimed Joel.

You both stared at the screen, waiting.

After a few rings, Joel’s tired face popped up — and the second he saw you two, his mouth opened like he was about to say something but no words came out.

“What the hell...?” he finally managed, blinking hard at the sight of his daughter and her girlfriend covered in what looked like smeared clown makeup, chained together by a pair of suspiciously shiny handcuffs.

Ellie cracked up immediately. "Heyyy Joel. We’re filming a video. Long story. Anyway— can you PLEASE tell us how the hell to turn the oven on before we burn the house down?"

You leaned into the frame, offering Joel your sweetest sauce-smudged smile. "Hi Joel!"

He shook his head slowly. "Y’all look like you lost a fight with a three-year-old and a Crayola factory."

Ellie wiped a fake tear. "That’s the nicest thing you've ever said to me, man."

Joel groaned. "And what’s with the damn handcuffs? Jesus Christ."

You started giggling. "Content, Joel. It’s for the content."

Joel gave the camera a look so fatherly it could've been framed. "I don’t even wanna know what kinda content y’all makin'. Alright, listen up. Find the oven buttons."

Ellie spun around dramatically, dragging you along with her. "Found 'em! There's like, a hundred buttons, though!"

Joel sighed, like he already regretted answering. "It ain’t rocket science, El. Look for somethin' that says 'Bake'."

Ellie squinted. "Okay, okay, I see it—What temperature should I set it at?"

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose. "Put it to 400."

"Yessir," Ellie saluted, poking the buttons with her free hand while you tried to steady the camera, still filming everything.

Meanwhile, Joel just kept staring at the two of you. "And you’re really just... sittin' there... wearin’ kids' makeup and chained together like morons."

Ellie grinned wide. "Yup. Living the dream, old man."

"World’s gone to hell," Joel muttered, but he was definitely smiling a little now. "Alright, once it’s preheatin’, leave it alone. No touchin' it. And for the love of god, don't try shovin’ the pizza in there without help, you'll burn the damn house down."

You gave a thumbs-up. "Thank you Joel! Love you!"

He shook his head but you swore you saw the smallest smile tug at his mouth.

"Yeah, yeah. Love you too, kiddo. Don't die."

With that, he hung up.

Ellie turned to the camera with a shit-eating grin.

"And THAT, ladies and gentlemen, was Joel Miller making his monthly YouTube appearance ."

You cackled, wiping some flour off your forehead.

"I can already smell the comments."

Ellie threw an arm (and by proxy, your handcuffed arm) around your shoulders.

"We should make him do the 'Handcuffed Baking Challenge' next time."

"Joel would rather be hit with a golf stick" you snorted.

"Facts," Ellie agreed proudly.

After hanging up with Joel, you and Ellie high-fived but it came out more like an awkward clank of your wrists, and turned back to the unfinished pizza sitting on the counter.

“Alright, final touches before this baby goes in the oven,” you announced, grabbing the bag of pepperoni.

Ellie wiggled her eyebrows. “Let’s make a pepperoni shaped figure on it.”

You snorted. "Like, a heart? A smiley face?"

Ellie grinned mischievously. "Nah. I was thinking something more mature."

You gave her a warning look. “If you suggest a dick shape, I swear to god—”

Ellie gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "I would NEVER—okay, I was totally thinking a dick shape, but whatever, party pooper. Smiley face it is."

Handcuffed and giggling like idiots, the two of you painstakingly arranged the pepperonis into a smiley face, which turned out looking more like the default male roblox face. It took way longer than it should have — every time Ellie moved a piece, she’d yank your wrist with her, causing you to mess up your side, and vice versa.

"STOP MOVING!" you cried.

"I CAN'T, YOU'RE BREATHING TOO LOUD," Ellie shot back, sticking her tongue out in concentration.

Finally, after what felt like a solid ten minutes of struggling, the pizza was ready — just as the oven beeped, signaling it was preheated.

"Moment of truth, baby," Ellie said solemnly.

Together, you shuffled over to the oven like some three-legged race team from hell. You opened the oven door (barely), Ellie held the pizza tray with one hand, and you guided the oven rack out with your free one.

T-rex was awakened from his nap by the sound of you guys fumbling with the oven door, which caused him to meow so loud, you thought Ellie had stepped on his tail.

"Please don't drop it, please don't drop it, please don't drop it," you chanted under your breath as you both maneuvered it inside.

Somehow, miraculously, the pizza slid into the oven without major casualties.

You both whooped and fist-bumped midair.

"Alright, while that's cooking, we should probably clean up... before Joel somehow senses the chaos and drives over here," you joked, grabbing the dirty bowls and utensils.

Ellie groaned dramatically but helped you anyway, dragging you along to the sink like a reluctant kid.

The two of you struggled through washing dishes — you holding the plates, Ellie scrubbing them, occasionally splashing water all over the counter (and each other).

"This is teamwork, right?" Ellie said, throwing a sudsy sponge at your chest.

"Teamwork makes the dream work, baby," you said, wiping the water off your shirt with exaggerated dignity.

Facing the camera, Ellie leaned closer, water dripping down her sleeve.

"I just want the record to show," she said seriously, "that I do in fact help with the dishes in this house"

You bumped her hip with yours. "Barely."

Ellie laughed, then turned to the camera again, her green eyes bright.

"Alright guys, if you’re still watching this mess, comment down below who do you think is carrying this relationship: me, or her?" she pointed at you with a soapy finger.

You gasped. "First of all, it’s me, easily. Secondly, stop slandering me on MY YouTube channel."

Ellie wiggled her brows. "Our channel, babe. Equality."

“Equality would be you doing more of the dishes,” you muttered under your breath, making the camera catch it, and sending Ellie into another fit of laughter.

Just as you finished drying the last plate (and somehow still soaked the front of your shirts), Ellie sniffed dramatically.

"I'm actually so proud of us babe, even if the pizza turns out like shit (Which it wont) we did such a good job for being HANDCUFFED"

You leaned into her, grinning.

"Yes I agree, it wasn’t half as terrible as I thought"

Ellie flexed her still-cuffed arm like she was being awarded a medal.

"Told you It was a great idea"

“Yeah, yeah, now let's settle down for a bit — my legs hurt from standing up all day," you huffed dramatically, dragging Ellie along with you towards the couch.

Ellie clumsily carried the camera with her free hand and set it down on your little coffee table, adjusting it so you were both in frame. Finally, you collapsed onto the couch, feeling like you could melt into the cushions.

"I'm so hungry I could eat T-Rex," you groaned, your cat immediately hopping onto your lap and purring loudly.

"HEY. WHAT THE HELL," Ellie gasped, immediately scandalized. "Leave our baby out of this" She reached out with her free hand to pet T-Rex, who purred even louder at the attention.

"Who's a good boy? Who’s mama's good boy?" you cooed, scratching his chin just right, making his tail twitch with satisfaction.

Ellie watched the scene with a blank face before deadpanning at the camera, "I just got a girl boner from that."

You gave her a scandalized look and tugged at the front of her hoodie. "You're unbelievable."

"And yet," Ellie said smugly, ruffling your hair, "you’re still with me. Tragic."

You rolled your eyes, settling back against her shoulder. "If you could only bring one thing to a remote island, what would you bring?" Ellie asked suddenly, throwing the question toward the camera like it was a game show.

You answered without hesitation. "You. Obviously. There’s no one else I'd rather be stuck with."

“Aweee—“ Ellie's face went soft immediately, cheeks flushing pink. She leaned down and kissed the top of your head.

“—Same for me," she murmured, then smirked. "And honestly, if we were stuck on some island together, we would definitely survive. We'd never be bored."

You pulled back just enough to squint at her suspiciously. "Again with the sex jokes. I'm trying to have a moment here, Ellie."

"You love it," she teased, winking at the camera like she was hosting a late-night comedy show. "But seriously," she continued, getting a little more earnest, "I think we’d keep each other sane. Or, you know... drive each other insane. Either way, it’d be fun."

You laughed, leaning your head against her shoulder again.

"Besides," Ellie added with a shit-eating grin, flexing her arm dramatically, "you'd need my big strong arms to protect you from wild animals or whatever."

You pulled back, raising an eyebrow. "Define big."

Ellie clutched her chest like you’d just stabbed her. "You’re so mean to me on camera. They're gonna think you’re the top”

You snickered. "Oh my god."

Just as Ellie was about to ask another stupid hypothetical question, a loud beep echoed from the kitchen.

"Saved by the bell!" you gasped, practically throwing T-Rex off your lap meowing in betrayal as you and Ellie scrambled to your feet, your girlfriend rabbed the camera off the table with her free hand. "Alright guys, moment of truth. Will it be edible? Stay tuned."

You wobbled into the kitchen together like a two-headed creature from a sci-fi movie.

Somehow you managed to get the oven open without burning yourselves alive. Ellie used a kitchen towel to yank the tray out while you hovered next to her, uselessly gasping and flapping your free hand like that would help.

"Hot hot hot hot hot!" Ellie hissed as she placed the pizza down on the counter.

You both leaned over it, admiring your work.

"Honestly?" you said. "We ate this shit up."

"I wish you guys could smell it, it’s fucking heavenly." Ellie declared, giving the camera a dramatic chef's kiss.

You quickly sliced up the pizza using the pizza cutter, the two of you fighting over who was worse at it. Once you had two steaming slices on plates, you remembered the handcuffs and gave Ellie a mischievous look.

"Okay. We have to feed each other," you said, grabbing your slice with your dominant hand and holding it out toward her.

Ellie immediately cackled. "Cheers baby"

Still filming, you both counted down — "Three, two, one" — and tried to feed each other at the same time. Both of you missed by like three inches.

The pizza folded, the toppings slid around, and when you finally did get a bite into your mouth—

"AH FUCK, IT’S HOT!" you both yelled, flailing dramatically.

Ellie was fuming out of her mouth, nearly dropping her plate. "I think my taste buds just dissolved."

You fanned your mouth like that would help, eyes watering. "I can’t feel my tongue."

Eventually, once your mouths stopped being on fire, you both flopped onto the floor, handcuffed, eating pizza straight from the plate like it was a survival movie.

Ellie leaned into the camera with a dead serious face. "Let’s try again, I couldn’t taste anything other than lava"

You guys took another bite of the pizza (blowing it off a bit so it would be edible) and it was actually very tasty, the surprised look on each other’s faces said everything.

“This is so good I could orgasm right now” You said dramatically. “Just proving once again lesbians can do anything” Ellie added, proud of her work.

Between bites, Ellie looked at the camera, grease on her chin, and said, "We would could definitely make it to Masterchef"

"Absolutely" you agreed through a mouthful of cheese.

After a few minutes of shoving pizza into your faces, you both finally sat back up, looking absolutely wrecked — sauce stains, flour in your hair, and lipstick smears everywhere.

Ellie reached over and adjusted the camera a little, her fingers smudging the lens slightly. “Alright losers thanks for watching our video, it means a lot to us” You giggled, wiping your mouth on your sleeve. “But seriously, thank you for hanging out with us today, and for putting up with whatever this video was.”

“We love you guys so much, for real,” Ellie said, her voice a little softer now. She reached over and bumped your shoulder with hers. “Don’t forget to like and subscribe, you know leave a little comment and let us know if you like this type of videos or what would y’all like to see” You leaned into her, smiling. “And also thank you for sending in the craziest questions, you guys rock”

Ellie laughed under her breath and turned her head slightly, looking at you — her eyes all soft and melty despite the absolute war crime that was both your appearances.

Without thinking, you tilted your head too, closing the small gap between you.

Just as your lips brushed hers, you saw Ellie smirk against your mouth and suddenly lift her free hand to slap it over the camera lens — cutting the video feed to black mid-kiss.

The last thing the viewers heard before the screen went dark was the soft sound of you laughing against her lips and Ellie whispering, “So… about what you said earlier”

[myeyebagsaredesigner]

Jason is just a fun lil guy. He loves the thought of fucking around with his brothers like how normal siblings would. Playing extreme tag, making pillow forts, running around in stores with them. He loves the idea. But the bats don't know this because they don't ask. To them, Jason is a big brooding guy who has a moody reputation to keep. Why would he want to do silly little things with them?

So the batkids have all this fun with each other minus Jason, because they don't think he's like that sort of thing, and minus Damian, because he's not interested unless his big brother is there too.

One day, Tim wants to film a TikTok. He goes to Dick, but he's too busy. Dick jokingly says to just ask Jason, and Tim is like: "Yeah, alright." So he does.

Jason: *Reading on the couch in his safehouse*

Tim: *Climbs through window*

Jason:

Tim: "Can you make a TikTok with me?"

Jason, suspicious: "Why me? Don't you usually go to other people for that shit?"

Tim: "Is that a yes or no?"

Jason: "Well, if you want me to.. what is it?"

Tim, pleasantly surprised: "We're going to play rock paper scissors to battle for our food."

Jason: "What-"

Jason and Tim in a weirdly lit, empty parking lot

Tim: "Ok, ok, rock, paper, scissors, shoot" *Rock*

Jason, holding up scissors: "Fuck!" *Starts running like his life depends on it*

Tim: "Haha, ok-" *Starts eating some chicken nuggets* "Hell yeah, these are good."

Jason: "Stop stop stop I'm back-" *Rock*

Tim: *Paper*

Jason, running away: "SHIT!"

The video ends with Jason finally winning a round. He starts to shove as much food in his mouth as he can. Tim trips on his way back and Jason laughs so hard he spits everything out and starts to choke.

Tim goes to Jason to do dumb shit now, and Dick is concerned for the rest of the world, unsuspecting of his brothers' BS.

[hobby1008]

Stress relief

If you use a translator, the sentences may be strange.

hanni x m reader

Tags: creampie, incest

Hani had an important exam and was studying without any breaks for several days, sitting at her desk.

At first, she was studying without any problems, and she was satisfied with it.

However, as time passed and she continued to study for several days, her concentration gradually decreased and she became stressed.

However, she forced herself to continue studying because it was an important exam, and that choice was fatal to her.

Her concentration decreased even more, which became poisonous, and her stress increased even more.

To relieve the stress, she took out her masturbation tool and started to console herself by playing her favorite pornographic videos on her tablet.

The video was about a man and a woman making love. Seeing them happily kissing passionately, Hani imagined herself receiving that kind of love, and she used her masturbation tool to the rhythm.

Her stress was relieved, but her desires were growing stronger. She couldn’t satisfy herself with just a masturbation tool, and she wanted to be held in the man’s arms and impaled on his big, hard cock like in the video.

But there was no one who would have sex with her. She didn't have a boyfriend, and she didn't have any friends who had such a relationship.

At that time, one person crossed her mind. It was her real brother.

She began to feel guilty for wanting to have sex with her brother, even if only for a moment. But unlike her head, her body wanted him.

In addition, he had the appearance she wanted. Ha-ni had always been on good terms with her brother, and they often went on dates together, exchanged many gifts, and above all, his penis was big enough to satisfy her.

She knew she shouldn't, but her body was already headed toward her brother in the living room. She sat next to him as she always did, hugged his arm, and leaned her head on his shoulder.

Then she raised her head and looked up at him. He also had a handsome appearance like Ha-ni, and had a muscular and firm body due to consistent exercise.

He was more masculine and attractive than the man she had seen in porn videos.

“Hani, is studying really hard?”

He said to his younger sister, Hani, in a worried tone.

“Yeah…. I’ve been doing it for too long and I’m stressed out.”

He immediately hugged her and patted her, and Hani loved this so much. She spent time in her brother’s arms every day, but she never got tired of it, and it was always so good.

“If there’s anything you want to do, tell me and I’ll listen.” He said to Hani with a soft smile, and that started to ignite her desire to be rammed in his arms.

“Really? You’ll do whatever I want?”

His brother was taken aback by Hani’s unusual words for a moment, but nodded again.

Hani couldn’t hold it in anymore, and immediately started kissing him.

He was surprised by Hani’s sudden attitude, but her kiss was so sweet and happy that he couldn’t stop.

“Oppa… You said you’d give me everything I want…? I want oppa… I want to do it with oppa.”

He was shocked by her confession, but when he saw her stubborn expression, he began to think.

No matter how much he cared for her and loved her, she was his own sister, and it was inappropriate to do that.

However, when he saw her beautiful appearance, his love for her, and the situation he had imagined at least once, the guilt he was feeling changed into longing for his own sister, Hani, and he immediately kissed her and said.

“Hani, do you really want oppa?”

Hani nodded fiercely as if she had been waiting, and he started to do it for his sister.

He immediately kissed her and took off all his clothes, and he also took off her clothes.

Then the two made brief eye contact. At that moment, something incredible entered Hani’s eyes.

It was his penis. It was incomparably bigger than the erect penis she had seen before, and it was more than enough to satisfy her.

Hani looked at the penis and wanted to get stuck in it quickly, so she spread her arms and legs and signaled for him to come into her arms.

“Oppa, I’m in a hurry, come quickly and make me happy with that.”

At her earnest plea, he immediately went into her arms and rubbed against her entrance, and when it went in, her pussy opened and she moaned deeply.

After filling her with all his penis, he gave her time to adjust.

“Oppa…. Now please make me pretty with that penis.”

At his lovely younger sister’s plea, he also started to get incredibly excited, and he immediately started having sex with her.

He slowly increased his speed. Then, her chest shook to the rhythm, and she moaned happily with an expression on her face that showed that she had gotten what she had wanted for a long time. “Oppa, I like it, I’m so happy.” She continued. He was even more excited to see his only beautiful and incredibly cherished sister happy.

He started to hold Hani in his arms while increasing the speed of sex. "Keep going, Oppa, please!" Hani screamed while squeezing her pussy. "Harder, harder, yes!" She almost ejaculated the moment he thrust it into her tight pussy, feeling the sting of her pussy, telling her to keep trying her best with his dick. But she didn't want to ejaculate like this, and she wanted to give Hani even greater pleasure.

As if she knew his feelings, Hani soon started to fall. She gripped his dick extremely tightly, her back arched, and she started to struggle and fight, and her brother was so excited and happy to see her.

Then, her happy orgasm ended and she looked up at him with a happy smile and said.

“Oppa the best…. It was really good! Oppa, I’m such a happy woman that you’re going to go to sleep like this.”

Her words made him extremely excited, and he started fucking her pussy at an indiscriminate speed.

She moaned happily again and squeezed her pussy for her brother.

“Ah…. Yes, oppa, do that…. Come to me too.”

He thrusted more passionately and deeply at her words. “Keep going, my pussy like that!” she said as soon as she opened her mouth. But at those words, he suddenly started roughly thrusting deep into her pussy, and she screamed as she felt her pussy being continuously pierced.

He felt his pussy throbbing like before, and this time he couldn’t hold it in.

“Hani, I think I’m going to cum.”

“Please cum in my pussy. Pour all that cum in. I want to feel your warm, hot cum in my pussy, oppa.” She said, using her arms and legs to hold him, preventing him from escaping, and eventually he started to cum inside her sister’s pussy.

“Ah…. It’s good, it’s warm, oppa cum….” She was so happy, and fell into a deep sleep that she couldn’t sleep because of her studies.

[valeisaslut]

GUYS. GUYSSSS. this is not a drill. after fighting for my life against ao3’s formatting system like it personally wronged me, i finally posted Collide on ao3.

COLLIDE; ellie williams (86932 words) by Valeisaslut

Chapters: 8/11 Fandom: The Last of Us (Video Games), The Last of Us (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Ellie (The Last of Us)/Reader, Ellie (The Last of Us) & Reader Characters: Ellie (The Last of Us), Dina (The Last of Us), Joel (The Last of Us), Reader, Jesse (The Last of Us), Original Female Character(s), Original Female Human Character(s) Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Shameless Smut, Popstar!Reader, rockstar!ellie, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, References to Drugs, Lesbian Sex, Lesbian Character, Series, Mutual Pining, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Ellie Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel is Ellie's Parent (The Last of Us), POV Reader-Insert, AFAB | Assigned Female at Birth Reader-Insert, Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Hurt Ellie (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Choking, Spanking, Hair-pulling, Strap-Ons, Nicknames Summary:

Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Popstar!Reader 𖥔 ݁ ˖ A pop princess on the rise. A rockstar on the edge of collapse. Your world is all polish and perfection, hers is chaos and self-destruction. You and Ellie Williams were never meant to cross paths. But when the industry sees an opportunity, it spins a story neither of you can escape: a headline-making, career-saving fake relationship. You need edge. She needs damage control. It should be simple—play the part, sell the history, survive each other. But Ellie is unpredictable, fame is unforgiving, and somewhere between staged appearances and real fights, the harder it is to tell where the act ends and something real begins. And in a world where everything is manufactured, the most dangerous thing you can do is feel. 𖥔 ݁ ˖ Follow me on tumblr: @valeisaslut

i’m gonna be so real with y’all… i had no idea what i was doing. NONE. ao3 is like a beautiful but extremely complicated spaceship. i was pressing buttons like i was diffusing a bomb. i almost published it with the tags “help” and “what am i doing” by accident.

but!!! i somehow pulled it together!!! SO. if you wanna go show Collide some love over there — leave a comment, kudos, or just yell into the void about your feelings — i would literally sob and kiss your forehead. i’m so proud of this story and of this little chaotic fandom we’ve built here, and seeing it get some love on ao3 too would make my heart explode (in the good way, not the medical emergency way).

thank you for always being so insanely kind and supportive 🥹💘 now go forth and wreak havoc in the comment section like the little menace army you are. i love you.

(also if you see any mistakes… pretend you didn’t xoxo)

[shygirl4991]

Chapter 1 First Meeting

Next chapter Ships: Gunshow, hints of SMG34 Tags: Slow burn, hurt comfort, guns, humor, angst, fluff, first love,

A guard walks by marking off his list of inmates, he stops in front of a sealed door and sighs. He wasn't a fan of this particular inmate, the strange looks he gave him along with the laugh. The constant asking if they could be friends before getting annoyed when he gets rejected, then turning away talking to that creepy dressed rock in his room. Slowly the guard opens the sealed deal, there beyond the bars static could be heard. The guard rolls his eyes as he smacks the bar with his clipboard, the static stops as he hears footsteps. There he looks up staring at the tall television man, his projected eyes swirling “Ah if it isn't my favorite guard, me and Leggy have been talking. While I know you have denied our request for friendship, you will be pleased to hear the offer is still open, come now imagine all we can do together. No longer will you be a guard, you can be something more!” 

The guard glares at him “It’s night, step towards your bed and please make me use the remote. It always brings joy when I can shut your trap up.” Mr Puzzle gives the man a sadistic smile as he walks back, sitting on the bed Mr Puzzles waits as a button is hit causing the bed to launch out rope tying the man down. Once the sealed doors close Mr Puzzles lets out a laugh, he turns his head looking at Leggy. “This is it, Leggy, our plan can begin if my research is correct. And I haven't been wrong before,  our little guns men will be doing his mission with the kids.” Mr Puzzles shakes his body causing his head to get loose, as it slides off his body and lands on the floor Mr Puzzle lets out a small chuckle.  He uses his antennae and connects with the wires under his bed, with a zap he is launched into his TV world. “Don't worry Leggy, I will be back for you,” he walks through the different screens till he finds the one he is looking for. He touches the screen making everything go black, slowly a TV screen springs to life. Slowly a body walks over to the TV and lifts it up, the body then slams the TV on the body the screen flickers projecting Mr Puzzles face. He stretches, feeling the stiffness in his joints due to rust, letting out a sigh as he looks around the room. He slowly walks to a nearby table “An old body but it will do,” he mumbles to himself as he grabs a bottle of vinegar and a box of baking soda. Slowly he put together what he needed to help remove the rust on his joints, he slowly walked outside and waited for his concoction to work its magic. 

He takes out a cigarette as he thinks over his mission. He noticed the man when he learned that he still had connection to his beautiful TV world, using it as an escape from the prison the crew put him in. He couldn't let them know he had a means to escape, after all he didnt need those pests bothering him. They rejected his offer of friendship, therefore he had no reason to fix things with them. He wanted to make them suffer, the nerve they had stopping a man from chasing his dream. Stopping him from making others happy and now from making friends by locking him away. This man was similar to him, a body with so many modifications he became a walking weapon. It caught Mr Puzzle’s attention given it's not a common sight to see those with a body of metal, he watched as the man spied on a small family. Saw how he tricked the idiot plumber in helping him kidnap the kids, only to learn he was the father of the children. The desperation the man had reminded him of how everything started, how he noticed SMG4 losing himself. How he would mumble about creating the perfect video for his viewers, he could relate to those emotions. He made the guardian an offer he knew the man wouldn't deny, the power he had from that deal was truly perfect. Until they blew the whole thing up, he takes a puff of his cigarette feeling his annoyance build. He thinks over Wren, how desperate he was to be number one. The cardboard wanted the secrets of the other guardian, all for more riches. Help reached out to each and everyone of them, the power he felt as all the viewers tuned in to cast their votes still sent shivers down his spine. 

After some time he moves his arms, he smiles feeling his joins move with more ease. He extinguishes the cigarette as he gets up, he steps inside the warehouse to clean off the rest of the rust. Once he is done an explosion is heard, he turns and smirks as he walks towards the burning building. As he walks he uses the nearby television to figure out the man's location, he lets out a giggle when he finds his target broken. Thrown out on the streets along with the Tuesday trash, such a person didnt deserve a fate like that.  The screen in front of Mr Wpnz comes to life catching his attention, he attempts to move his hand only for it to spark for a moment as it dies. He growls at his hand before returning his attention to the TV in front of him. 

“Oh Dear…” a deep voice spoke to him, he looked around trying to figure out who could be talking to him. Mr Puzzle watches, finding it fascinating how the man still had fighting spirit when he looked so defeated “You look like you’ve seen better days.”  Keeping the deep voice he keeps an eye on the man’s face, studying his reactions. Mr Wpnz stops looking around as he settles for staring at the static on the TV in front of him “What's the matter? Cats got your tongue?” Mr Wpnz growls as his body sparks a warning that his body is shutting down, Mr Puzzle grins seeing the reaction “I know all too well what it's like, to be on the cusp of something magnificent…” Mr Puzzles clenches his fist as he remembers how he had five stars to lose it all, how he had the perfect park only to fail  again.  “Only to have it ripped away! Leaving you scarred, broken and alone.”  Mr Puzzles takes in a deep breath as he relaxes his body, seeing the pain in Mr Wpnz face was the opening he was hoping for. “It hurts doesn't it? You know in my darkest hour, I learned the one thing I needed was simply a friend.” 

The TV turns off confusing the man before he hears footsteps approaching him, he turns his head to see Mr Puzzle giving him a huge smile “So what do you say you want to be friends?”  Mr Wpnz looked up at the tall man, he had no way to defend himself, not to mention the group that made him decide to throw him away when they saw how broken he was. His ex wife and kids betrayed him, at this moment he was alone. He didn't mind it after all it meant no one could stop him from doing what he loves, yet killing and stealing lost that special spark. Mr Puzzles bends down picking up his hand waiting for a reply, he looks the man up and down. The dangerous aura he displayed was something he hadn't seen in years, he felt attracted to it. Accepting this friendship is making a deal with the devil, the very thought of it excited him. “Listen not that I hate making pals, I just need to know, what's in it for you?” Mr Puzzles turns to face him, his screen displaying a neutral expression “I did everything alone, chasing my dreams only for a couple of idiots to ruin it. After my last run in, I learned why I always lost, I had no friends. So to answer your question, we both get someone to watch out back as we work together to get payback.”  He screen flickers showing for a split second a psychotic smile before it changes to a soft one. Mr Wpnz chuckles as he struggles to move the hand in the man's hand, Mr Puzzle looks at the hand and shakes it “So i take it you agree to be my friend?” Mr Wpnz nods “Why the fuck not, after all in this state i cant do shit all.” Mr Puzzle walks away for a moment before coming back with a box, he scoops up all of the man's parts and packs them up. 

He holds the box with his right hand, with his free hand he reaches over to Mr Wpnz and lifts him up. The pair walk in silence until they arrive at the warehouse, Mr Puzzle drops the box to gently place Mr Wpnz on the table.  Mr Puzzle then looks at the man's parts, Mr Wpznz sighs “Do you even know how to repair my limbs?” Mr Puzzles lifts up one of his hands and examines it “I can fix up the legs and hands fine, I just don't know how to work on your weapons. Not to mention I'm stuck in this dumpster with barely enough of anything to fix them if I knew.” He snaps his fingers as he walks over to Mr Wpnz giving him a bow “Sorry introductions my friend, im called Mr Puzzles!” Mr Wpnz looks at the man before his eyes notice the name on his new friend's head “Your television says puzzlevision.”  He touches his head before letting out a bitter chuckle “That's the name of my network where all my great shows will broadcast when the time comes!”  Mr Wpnz nods as he watches the other man take out a few tools and start working on his hand, he grunts from the pain as he starts to feel his connection with the limb. Mr Puzzle’s screen flashes a huge smile as he sees the fingers move, he keeps his focus on the man's hand as Mr Wpnz’s looks around “I'm called Mr Wpnz. Since we will be working together, what's your whole deal, fix up body parts often?” Mr Puzzle chuckles, shaking his head as he looks in a drawer for items, he hums taking out spare parts as he checks them for any rust. “When creating my body and other things I picked up a few skills, mind you my talent all lies in creating stories! “

Mr Wpnz gives a skeptical look “Creating stories?” Mr Puzzles finishes tickering with hand, he sits back as the hand starts to walk about before jumping back in its place. He flinches from the pain, seeing that Mr Puzzle’s gets up checking his shoulders “My dream is to be a 5 star creator, I want to entertain the world.” He lets out a sinister chuckle giving Mr Wpnz the answer he was looking for, no way someone that just wants to make tv shows would team up with a living weapon just for friendship. There was something different about this television man, it excited him to know just what hell the two of them would bring.  “Mr Wpnz, am I to assume that your whole deal is violence? I saw how your family treated you, shame when you just wanted to help your children be stronger.” Mr Wpnz stomach dropped at the moment, sadness, anger, regret filled him as he remembers the betrayal of his family.  “How did you know?” he glares at the man, Mr Puzzle gently smacks his shoulder in place “Where there is a television, there is me.” was all he said as he walked over to the box to finish the last remaining limbs.  Mr Wpnz smirks “Since you're such a stalker with all these television eyes, why do you need my help for payback?” Mr Puzzle finishes up his other hand as he stands there in silence for a moment “I learned having eyes everywhere doesn't make you all powerful, I’m not built for in person battles. Learn that the hard way when they locked me away, poor Leggy must be missing me right now.” Mr Wpnz connects his hand taking in the man's words “So you broke out and left a  so-called friend behind? Heh, they  must have been weak.” 

Mr Puzzle slams the table causing Mr Wpnz to quickly turn to the man, Mr puzzle screen flashed a sinister face as he looked at him “DON'T TALK ABOUT LEGGY LIKE THAT!” Mr Wpnz nonchalantly raises his hands “Hey i'm not the one that left this Leggy behind.” Mr Puzzle takes a deep breath before his screen shows his usual smiling face “Leggy is my best friend, we both are currently locked away. My power lets me take over other televisions and I happen to have this spare body.”  Mr Wpnz nods as he connects his legs “Then let's get my body in full order, we need to figure out how to break you and Leggy out so we can begin our plan.” Mr Puzzle nods as he watches the man walk away checking his systems, knowing they need more parts to fully fix the man. Their first plan is to scoop out locations that contain military grade weapons and parts, lucky for them Mr Wpnz knows the best place to look. 

[writerofautumnnights]

𝑮𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬𝑹 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐉𝐎𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐀𝐌

previous chapter

✧༚ ˎˊ ˗ pairing: jobe bellingham x fem!oc 

✧༚ ˎˊ ˗ sumary: Jobe and Sarah finally give in to the attraction that consumes them. Amidst intense touches and unspoken promises, the chemistry between them reaches its peak, but the impending farewell leaves a taste of uncertainty.

✧༚ ˎˊ ˗ warnings: NSFW, a hint of anguish and a little dominance if you close one eye.

count: 10.9k sorry!

# tags: @lonely-world3 @barcagirly @formulafortyfour @kennaskorner @anifffff @jessnotwiththemess @irishmanwhore @oceanfanatic06 @haartemis @eriks-girl @peyiswriting @leighjadeclimbedmtkilimanjaro @sucredreamer @virgilsgurl @everlyjay @kj77 @muglermami @sailurmewn @goldenngt @cranberryjulce @darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @amirawrah if you want it removed, let me know!

keara’s imessage: myyyyy jobe girls 🗣️ forgive me for the delay, I warned you that I didn't like what I wrote before, but I crossed the line on this one. Thanks for all the love and if you want to be tagged, just let me know. enjoy the chapter 💕

masterlist

Sarah had never planned to fall in love during her exchange program. She had always been picky and cautious when it came to relationships. She had no interest in "raising boys," especially getting involved with someone who might be younger. 

But Jobe... he was nothing like the people she had met before. The dilemma of being in your twenties is that you could – potentially – get involved with someone younger or someone older. There's always this inner conflict about what you actually want in a relationship – whether you want to deal with someone still figuring out how to handle life or someone who's already focused on financial success, because after thirty, building stability becomes a priority.

For the Brazilian, these questions had started to surface more and more each day. She was determined to stick to her original goals, trying to fully focus on her studies, but somehow she found herself more and more drawn to someone who was constantly stealing her attention. Sometimes she would catch herself just staring at him, thinking, "How did this even happen?"One look into his eyes and Sarah was completely lost. It was hard not to fall into temptation, hard not to crave being closer every day. She hoped she wasn’t rushing things, but there was something she simply couldn’t put into words. She had never met anyone like him before.

The distance between them was challenging, but somehow, they were making it work. Their daily video calls had quickly become Sarah’s favorite part of the day.

Their communication was getting better and better. Sarah’s English classes were paying off, even with all those impossible phrasal verbs he loved to use. And she had taught him a few words in Portuguese too. It was adorable how he tried to say "saudade" – equally cute and hilarious. Jobe loved saying "meu bem" and "linda demais" whenever he thought she wasn't paying attention.

And it had only been two weeks since that first call that brought them back into each other's lives.

Some people around Sarah had already noticed how distracted and unavailable she seemed; her free time was now filled with calls that somehow made the distance feel shorter. They hadn’t met again in person yet, but it didn’t matter. Some of her friends had even spotted the Sunderland shirt she got after the match and asked questions, but Sarah kept it low-key, just like they had agreed. Some things were meant to stay just between the two of them – even though she was dying to share everything with the world. To her, he was simply Jobe. But to the world, he was still Jobe Bellingham.

Sarah remembered when she used to say she didn’t want to fall in love, didn’t trust anyone anymore, didn’t want to care too much ever again. But Jobe had changed all of that. And day by day, she was letting herself fall even harder.

The Uber weaved through the streets of Manchester while Sarah nervously tapped her fingers against her bag. The improvised lie from the night before weighed heavily on her conscience. She had sent Jobe a message saying that an unexpected issue with her course was preventing her from going to the match. She could still picture his reply — short, polite, but carrying a hint of disappointment he had tried to hide.

Her surprise had almost been ruined when she arrived at the hotel where she would be staying and ran into a few members of Sunderland’s staff at the reception. For a few seconds, her heart skipped a beat as she quickly scanned the lobby for any sign of Jobe.  But it was just some staff members. She had been so close — Jobe and the other players had walked through the lobby just minutes later, coming back from their training session at the stadium.

Luckily, Sarah was already on her way to her room.  

Her own foolishness had almost ruined the moment she had carefully planned for so long. If she had just asked Jobe where they would be staying, there wouldn’t have been any close calls. But she learned her lesson.

The stadium was already visible in the distance when she picked up her phone and dialed his number. It had to be a quick call. Sarah took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. Three rings, and he answered.

"Hey!" she said, smiling the moment she heard his breathing on the other end. "I just wanted... to wish you good luck..."

She could feel the surprise in his voice, that slight pause of someone who hadn’t expected the call. Jobe said something about getting ready to step onto the pitch, but she caught the lighter tone, as if her call had softened the disappointment he had tried to hide about her supposed absence.

"Are you getting another call?" she asked when she heard another ringtone in the background.

"Yeah, it’s Jude. I need to answer."

"Go ahead. I'll be cheering for you from here. Don’t forget my goal!" she teased.

The driver announced their arrival at the stadium. Sarah zipped her jacket up to her neck, feeling the fabric of the new, autographed Sunderland jersey she wore underneath—a gift Jobe had sent her the previous week. Across her back, his name and number were printed, making her heart race in ways she still couldn't quite explain.

With hesitant steps, she made her way toward the VIP entrance, where players' families gathered. Everything still felt overwhelming; Sarah had been nervous ever since she picked up the ticket earlier that morning—managing to do so discreetly, without Jobe finding out.

The security guard checked her name on the list and gestured for her to move down the hallway. Suddenly, the full weight of her impulsive decision hit her: she was about to watch a match in the section usually reserved for the players' families.

An attendant guided her toward her seat, and Sarah found herself impressed by it all. For a second division team, today's stadium was seriously impressive.

When she entered the reserved box, Sarah froze. The first pair of eyes she met belonged to a middle-aged man whose features were unmistakably familiar—the same eyebrows, the same posture. Mark Bellingham studied her for a few seconds before a spark of recognition lit up his face.

"You must be Sarah," he said, approaching with a warm smile that didn’t quite match the stern image she had built in her mind based on the few photos she had seen. "Jobe’s going to be... well, ‘surprised’ doesn’t even begin to cover it."

"I-I... yes, I am... It's such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bellingham," she stammered, suddenly feeling like all the English words she had learned had fled from her mind. "Sorry for not... telling you I was coming."

"Mark, please," he corrected kindly. "Come on, let me introduce you to everyone."

Everyone?

A man sitting with his leg stretched out over one of the seats turned when he heard the conversation. Sarah recognized him immediately from magazines and match broadcasts: Bellingham. Jude Bellingham, Jobe’s older brother, Real Madrid star — currently sidelined with an injury — was right there in front of her. Beside him, an elegant woman with piercing eyes observed Sarah with an expression she couldn't quite read.

"So you're the famous Sarah," Jude said with a wide grin, reaching out his hand. "Finally meeting the person who has my brother checking his phone every five minutes."

Sarah felt embarrassment flood every part of her body as she accepted his handshake. "Nice to meet you... sorry for showing up... without warning," she managed, her voice barely steady.

"Don’t apologize," Jude laughed. "He’s going to love the surprise."

When Sarah turned to greet Denise, the boys’ mother, a wave of nerves hit her. The woman’s gaze was intense, assessing, and for a moment Sarah was certain she had made a terrible mistake by coming unannounced.

"Sarah," Denise said simply, extending her hand with graceful poise. "Jobe mentioned you wouldn’t be coming."

"It was... uh... a last-minute change of plans," Sarah explained, struggling to find the right words in English. "I hope I'm not... intruding. It was supposed to be... a surprise."

Something in Denise’s expression softened, almost imperceptibly. "Anyone who makes my son smile the way you do is more than welcome."

The tension in Sarah’s shoulders eased just a little. Jude pulled out an empty chair beside him and patted the seat.

"Come, sit here. I want to hear all about how you manage to put up with my brother."

The comment earned a nervous laugh from Sarah, and Jude seemed to pick up on her discomfort. With an easy charm, he began sharing embarrassing childhood stories about him and Jobe, speaking slowly and clearly so she could follow, occasionally repeating himself when he noticed her confusion.

The teams entered the pitch for the warm-up, and Sarah’s heart leapt when she spotted Jobe among the players. He looked focused, completely unaware of the surprise waiting for him in the family box.

"He hasn’t looked this way yet," Mark commented, as if reading her thoughts. "He’s always been like that. When he's on the pitch, the whole world disappears."

***

The stadium buzzed with the energy of 20,000 people gathered for the decisive match. Jobe adjusted his number 7 shirt and took a deep breath, feeling adrenaline rush through his veins, just like it always did before a big game. But today, there was something different. A restlessness he couldn't quite name.

His gaze swept across the crowd until it landed on a specific spot — the VIP box where players' families usually sat. His parents were there, Mark and Denise, chatting with Jude. And next to them... She.

Sarah wasn’t supposed to be there. She hadn’t mentioned anything about coming. But there she was, with her unmistakable golden curls and a smile that seemed to light up the whole stadium. Sarah laughed at something Mark said, and for a brief moment, she opened her jacket, revealing the team shirt underneath — the very same one Jobe had autographed and sent to Manchester just a few days ago.  The one she had told him she kept tucked away every night like a special gift. The thought made something flip inside his stomach.

When Sarah noticed Jobe staring, she gave him a discreet wave, her smile growing wider. He felt warmth spread through his chest. Quickly, he tore his gaze away, forcing his focus back onto the field. He couldn’t get distracted. Not today. Not by her.

"Focus, Jobe," he muttered under his breath, adjusting his shorts.

Chris approached, giving his shoulder a firm pat. "Would you look at that — the Brazilian actually showed up."

Jobe tried to keep his face neutral, but the weight on his shoulders grew heavier. "Didn’t think she would."

"And I couldn’t take one more minute of you moping around after almost scaring her off with all that commitment-phobia of yours," Chris laughed. "Good thing Eliezer and I knocked some sense into you. Must be the first girl who’s ever made you this nervous."

"I'm not nervous," Jobe replied automatically, though he knew it was a lie.

"Sure," Chris said, shaking his head, amused. "One day, someone was bound to break through all those walls, mate. Just didn’t expect it to be an older woman with that look — like she knows exactly what she wants."

Before Jobe could respond, the whistle blew, calling the teams onto the field. He took a deep breath, pushing all thoughts of Sarah to a far corner of his mind. It was game time. His territory — the place where he knew exactly who he was and what he had to do.

The match kicked off at a fierce pace, just as expected.  Jobe threw himself into the game with the iron discipline that defined him on the pitch. For forty straight minutes, he maintained laser-sharp focus, organizing plays in midfield, contributing both in defense and attack. The scoreboard remained 0–0, a reflection of the tension and balance between the two teams.

It was during a stoppage — an opponent down, receiving treatment — that his focus betrayed him. Almost instinctively, his eyes searched for Sarah in the VIP box. She was standing, chatting with his mother, Denise. Something about the sight — Sarah talking to his family like she already belonged — made his heart race.

What were they talking about? Was Sarah nervous? He could hear her Brazilian accent in his mind, the slight stumble over words when she got anxious. Was his mother being kind to her?

"Earth to Jobe!" The coach’s voice snapped him back to reality.  "I’ve been talking to you for a minute now! What’s going on? I’ve never seen you this distracted."

"Sorry, coach. It won’t happen again."

The coach studied him for a moment before continuing with the tactical instructions. Jobe nodded mechanically, his eyes trained on the coach’s face, but his thoughts drifting elsewhere.

When the game resumed, Jobe forced himself to focus solely on the ball and the movements of the opponents. It worked, for a while. Until, fifteen minutes into the second half, a perfect opportunity arose. He stole the ball in midfield, dribbled past two defenders, and seeing open space ahead, advanced decisively towards the goal. At the edge of the box, with surgical precision, he shot towards the lower right corner, leaving the goalkeeper with no chance.

The stadium erupted in celebration as Jobe ran, arms wide open, toward the sidelines. Amid the euphoria, his teammates jumped on him, celebrating the goal. When he finally managed to break free from the group hug, Jobe did something he had never done before — he turned towards the VIP box and pointed directly at Sarah.

It was an impulsive gesture, completely out of character for his usually reserved nature, but at that moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. From a distance, he saw Sarah’s face light up in a radiant smile as she covered her face shyly. Beside her, Jude elbowed their father, pointing and apparently making some comment that made Mark laugh and shake his head.

"Wow, the ice man finally melted!" Eliezer joked, passing by as they headed back to their positions. "Never thought I'd see the day Jobe 'I-don’t-get-attached' Bellingham would dedicate a goal to someone."

Chris joined in the teasing: "The Brazilian must have magic powers! We need to thank her later."

Jobe just smiled, for the first time not caring about the teasing from his friends. The feeling of having scored a goal and openly dedicating it to Sarah was strangely freeing.

The rest of the game was a showcase of his talent on the field. As if freed from a weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying, Jobe played with a fluidity and creativity that drew applause from the crowd. In the thirty-eighth minute of the second half, he assisted the second goal, sealing the 2–0 victory.

When the final whistle blew, Jobe felt a mix of euphoria from the win and anxiety about what was to come. He knew that, unlike other times, he couldn't simply avoid Sarah. Not after that public gesture. Not after seeing her talking with his parents.

In the locker room, he tried to focus on the team’s celebrations and the quick interviews with journalists. But his mind kept returning to the image of Sarah in the VIP box, wearing his autographed jersey, flashing that smile that seemed made just for him.

"Go on, man," said Eliezer, giving him a friendly push as they finally left the locker room. "Your Brazilian is waiting. And from what Chris told me, your parents are practically ready to adopt her."

"What?" Jobe frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Let’s just say that while you were busy here, your brother was introducing her to everyone as your girlfriend," Chris explained with a mischievous smile. "Apparently, your dad’s already in love with her accent."

Jobe felt a wave of panic. Introducing Sarah as his girlfriend? They hadn’t even kissed yet! What was Jude thinking?

"Relax," Eliezer said, patting his shoulder when he noticed Jobe’s expression. "From what I heard, people just insisted on meeting her after seeing you dedicate the goal."

"What the hell?" Jobe couldn’t hide his confusion.

"So, Mrs. Bellingham got curious to meet the woman who finally conquered her son’s shielded heart," Chris added, amusement all over his face.

"We’re not… it’s not like…" Jobe began, then stopped, not knowing how to define what he and Sarah were to each other.

"Just go," Chris said again, more softly this time. "We all saw the way you look at her. And how she looks at you. Stop fighting it."

With those words echoing in his mind, Jobe walked toward the area where he knew his family — and Sarah — were waiting. With each step, he felt his heart beat harder. It was ridiculous, he thought. He was a professional athlete who regularly performed in front of thousands of people, but the thought of seeing one woman had him panicking.

But it wasn’t just any woman. It was Sarah.

With her golden curls, her musical accent when she spoke English, the way she tilted her head when listening to him with full attention, as if every word he said mattered. Sarah, who somehow managed to see through the walls he had spent years building around himself.

When he finally spotted them in the VIP lounge, Jobe paused for a moment to watch them. His father had his arm draped over Jude’s shoulders, while his mother chatted animatedly with Sarah, who gestured as she spoke, her curls bouncing with the movement. Even from a distance, Jobe could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she tried a little harder to pronounce the words correctly — all signs that she was nervous but determined to make a good impression.

The thought that she was trying so hard for him made something tighten in his chest.

"There’s the star of the game!" his father exclaimed as he saw him approaching.

Everyone turned. Sarah’s smile, when her eyes met his, was a mixture of relief and happiness that made Jobe momentarily forget all his reservations. He greeted his father first, then his brother and mother, exchanging a few words with each of them. 

And then, finally, his eyes found Sarah’s again. Jobe couldn’t quite tell what she was feeling, but Sarah focused on her own breathing as she felt her legs tremble slightly as he came closer.

"You came," he said simply, his voice low enough that only she could hear it.

"Surprise," Sarah replied, feeling her English falter once again.

"It really is a surprise. I thought you wouldn’t come!"

"I lied, forgive me," Sarah laughed, biting her lip with a smile.

"Why are you hiding the jersey?" he asked, noticing her zipped-up jacket.

Sarah squinted, making Jobe smile openly, his dimple showing. The gesture made her smile slowly, and feeling all of his family's eyes on her, Sarah opened her jacket, revealing the Sunderland jersey.

Jobe’s eyes immediately darted to a special spot. The dedication: With love, to England’s sunshine. JB 7

The smile that spread across Jobe’s face was unlike any she had ever seen before. There was pride, surprise, and something deeper she couldn’t name.

"It looks better on you than on me," he commented, running his fingers lightly over the fabric, a gesture that sent shivers down Sarah’s spine.

Jobe then turned his attention back to his family.

"Son, what an incredible game! And that moment! I never thought I’d see you do something like that."

"Yeah, little bro, you really surprised us today," Jude added with a mischievous grin. "I barely recognized my usually reserved brother making public declarations."

"It wasn’t a declaration," Jobe protested, flashing a nervous smile, as if trying to hide his embarrassment.

"It was beautiful," Sarah’s soft voice interrupted, her Brazilian accent more pronounced due to her nerves. "No one... has ever done something like that for me before."

Their eyes locked, and for a moment it felt like they were alone in the crowded lobby. Jobe could see every nuance of emotion on her face — the nervousness about being around his family, the insecurity about her English, the genuine happiness at seeing him, the anticipation of what would come next.

"Sarah was just telling us how you gave her that jersey at the first game she attended," his mother commented, bringing Jobe back to reality. "I thought it was such a sweet gesture."

"And she didn’t mention that she sleeps with the jersey every night?" Jude teased, earning a deadly glare from Sarah, whose hands grew sweaty at the revelation.

"I don’t... it’s not exac–" she began to protest, stumbling over her words.

"It’s okay," Jobe interrupted gently, stepping closer to her. "Jude’s just trying to embarrass you. It’s what he does best."

His brother feigned outrage, but his eyes betrayed his amusement. "I'm just helping you two move past this weird dance you’ve been doing for a while now."

"Son, we invited Sarah to have dinner with us tonight," his father interjected, saving them from more teasing. "Do you mind? We thought it would be nice to get to know her better."

The question caught Jobe off guard. A family dinner? With Sarah? It was a big step, especially considering they hadn’t even defined what they were to each other yet. But when he looked at her and saw the mix of hope and apprehension in her eyes, he realized the idea didn’t scare him as much as it should.

"Of course," he answered, surprising himself with how natural it sounded. "If Sarah’s comfortable with it."

"I’d love to," she replied, a shy smile playing on her lips.

"Great," his mother beamed. "We’re heading to the restaurant at your hotel. We already arranged for you to skip the team dinner, so we’ll go with Jude. You can go with Sarah and meet us there?"

Jobe nodded, recognizing his mother’s transparent maneuver to give them a moment alone. "We’ll see you there, then."

As his parents and Jude walked away, promising to meet them at the hotel, Jobe finally found himself alone with Sarah. The silence between them was charged with anticipation.

"You played so well," she finally said, her voice soft. "That goal was amazing."

"Thank you for coming, meu bem," he replied, taking a step closer to her. "I wasn’t sure you’d be here."

Sarah couldn’t hide her smile at hearing Jobe use the Portuguese nickname she had taught him with such delight.

"I just bet it would be cool," she explained. "I thought you’d like to see me cheering for you." She hesitated, biting her lower lip. "I’m sorry about your parents... I didn’t plan on meeting them like this, it all happened so fast and..."

"It’s okay," Jobe interrupted her softly. "They seem to like you."

"Your mom is very kind," Sarah smiled, relaxing a little. "But I’m nervous about my English with them... sometimes I can’t find the right words and..."

Seeing her anxiety build, Jobe did something he had been wanting to do since he first saw her in the box. He closed the final distance between them and pulled her into a hug. He felt her body stiffen in surprise for a second before she relaxed against him, her arms wrapping around his waist.

Leaning down slightly, Jobe buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathing her in deeply. Her scent — a mix of some floral perfume and something uniquely Sarah — wrapped around him like a warm blanket on a cold day. It was comforting and thrilling at the same time. "Your English is perfect," he murmured against her skin, feeling her shiver slightly. "And my parents already adore you. Just like..." he stopped, the words catching in his throat. He wasn’t ready to say it out loud yet.

Sarah pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, their faces inches apart. "Just like...?" she encouraged, a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

Jobe swallowed hard, feeling another barrier inside him crumble. "Just like I'm starting to adore you," he finished, his voice low, almost a whisper.

The smile that lit up her face was like a sunrise — gradual, warm, and utterly breathtaking. A different Sarah appeared before him, lighter and unburdened.

"It took you a while to admit that, English boy," she teased, her hand reaching up to gently touch his face, making his heart skip a beat.

"I'm afraid," he admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them. "Of how you make me feel. Of how you seem to see through all my defenses."

Sarah nodded, understanding. "I know. And I'm not in a hurry." Her fingers traced the line of his jaw.

He smiled, a genuine smile that he rarely showed anyone. "This shirt really looks much better on you," Jobe commented, unable to take his eyes off Sarah. "Way too beautiful!"

"You need to stop making me blush, British boy. You know I can still return it... if you want," Sarah replied, playfully.

"Don't take it off again," Jobe said, surprising himself. "It really suits you."

Sarah took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "You know, Jobe, for someone so skilled on the field, you're terribly hesitant off of it."

The comment caught him by surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you look at me like I'm both something you desperately want and something that terrifies you. Beyond what we feel." She tilted her head, studying him. "Am I wrong?"

Her honesty left him momentarily speechless. It was exactly how he felt, but he never expected her to notice it so clearly.

"I..." he started, but stopped, unsure of how to continue.

Sarah smiled, understanding. "It's okay. You don't have to explain. I just want you to know that I'm really not in a rush." She reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers again. "And I'm not as scary as I seem."

Her touch was warm, real, anchored in the present moment. Jobe felt another barrier tremble, like an old wall finally giving way to time.

"Shall we go? My parents are going to start imagining things if we take too long."

"Oh, sure. Do you have some locker room fetish you need to fulfill?" Sarah asked, playfully, but just looking at Jobe and analyzing his expression had both of them laughing. "Joooooobe."

"What? I can dream," he shrugged, unable to hide the mischievous smile on his lips.

"Come on, for God's sake," she agreed, laughing, but keeping her hand intertwined with his. "And after dinner... maybe we can talk more about that idea of pointing at me on the field."

Jobe felt the embarrassment take over him again, but he didn't let go of her hand as they walked toward the parking lot. There were still many barriers to break, many fears to face. But for the first time in a long time, the idea of letting his guard down didn’t seem so scary.

Not when it was Sarah waiting on the other side.

***

The night had been unforgettable. Sunderland's game ended in victory, with a spectacular goal that sent the fans into a frenzy. Dinner with Jobe’s family, which had initially made Sarah extremely nervous, turned out to be an enjoyable experience, though still challenging. Jobe, on the other hand, felt like the happiest person in the world seeing Sarah interact with his family, even though she tried to mask her anxiety. Her presence in such a personal and important setting for him meant more than anyone could imagine.

When dinner ended and everyone started saying their goodbyes, Sarah took a deep breath, gathering the courage to make the invitation she had been rehearsing in her mind since the middle of the meal.

"Do you need to go back to the hotel now?" Sarah asked quietly, as Jobe finished hugging his older brother. Her English still had a strong accent, but the months of daily phone conversations had significantly improved her vocabulary.

Jobe turned to her with a smile that lit up his face. "Actually, yeah. Why?"

Sarah averted her gaze for a moment, nervously biting her lip. "I was thinking maybe... you could keep me company for a while. It's still early."

"I'd love to," Jobe replied, without hesitating for even a second. "Which hotel are you at?"

"The same as yours."

The smile that appeared on Jobe's face at that information was enough to freeze time; Sarah didn't know it yet, but she was very close to breaking down Jobe's walls.

They said their goodbyes to his family, with Denise, Jobe’s mother, hugging Sarah a little tighter than necessary and whispering something in her ear that made Sarah smile shyly. Mark, his father, gave Sarah a friendly pat on the shoulder and a meaningful look at his son.

When they were finally alone, they walked side by side toward the elevators. In the lit hallway, Sarah slowed her pace and turned to face him.

"It’s strange... finally being here... with you," Sarah commented, breaking the silence. "After so many video calls, it almost feels surreal... to just reach out and..." She hesitated, but her fingers brushed the air between them, stopping just inches from his.

Jobe stopped walking, his gaze meeting hers. Here, without the safety of the digital distance, every gesture carried a different weight. The realization that they were only a few steps away from her room, with their rooms separated by only a few meters of hallway, hung between them like an unspoken question.

When they reached Sarah’s room door, the reality of the situation hit them. They were just one step away from being completely alone for the first time, without the hum of the hotel in the background, without anyone around, without the mediation of phone screens, without the option to end the call when the silence became uncomfortable.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Jobe couldn't resist. He stepped up behind Sarah and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in the curve of her neck. She felt a shiver run down her spine as he took a deep breath.

"Your scent is amazing," he murmured against her skin, slowly moving to breathe in the scent of her hair. "How do you always smell so good?"

Sarah couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh. "It's just regular shampoo. Nothing special."

"I completely disagree," he replied, still not letting go of her, as if he feared she might vanish if he did. "I think I’m going to stay like this forever."

Sarah felt her heart race at the proximity. Every cell in her body was acutely aware of his presence behind her, the warmth radiating from him, the rhythm of his breath against her hair. She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to enjoy that feeling she had imagined so many times during their late-night conversations.

"Are you okay?" Jobe asked, pulling away slightly so she could turn and face him.

"Yeah," she replied, turning in his arms. "It's just... really strange, finally being like this. Without a screen between us."

Jobe smiled, and Sarah realized that his smile was even more beautiful in person than on the video calls. His eyes sparkled in a way no camera could capture.

"You were so nervous at dinner," he commented, gently guiding her to sit on his lap as he adjusted himself on the edge of the bed. "I thought you were going to pass out when my mom asked about your age."

Sarah covered her face with her hands, mortified. "Was it that obvious? I tried to hide it!"

"It was adorable," he assured her, sitting beside her. "At first, I thought it was my dad who was making you nervous."

"Well, I thought it was your dad... that made me nervous, until I met your mom," Sarah confessed, lowering her hands to look at him. "She has that look that... seems to see everything I’m thinking."

Jobe laughed. "And she loved you. Everyone did, actually. My brother has already sent me three messages asking when they'll meet you again."

Sarah felt a wave of relief wash over her. "Really? I was so worried about making... a good impression."

"You could have shown up wearing a dinosaur costume, and they would have still loved you," he joked, gently running his fingers along her arm. "It’s impossible not to like you."

Her eyes met his, and for a moment, they stayed like that, absorbing the closeness, immersed in the reality of finally being together, breathing the same air, sharing the same space.

"Hey," Jobe suddenly said, breaking the moment. "Are you still thinking about that theory I sent you last week? About the government using electromagnetic waves to control people’s sleep patterns?"

"Jooobe, seriously?" Sarah laughed, pushing him onto the bed, unable to believe how he had completely broken the potential mood. She laughed, shaking her head. "Of course. We spent three hours... searching for articles... in the middle of the night. How could I forget?"

"It was fascinating! You can't deny it," he insisted, propping himself up on his elbows, his eyes sparkling in that way she recognized whenever he found something to share with her.

And damn. He looked hot.

"Fascinating, yes, but completely crazy," she replied, trying to find the right words in English. The language barrier was still a challenge, especially when trying to express more complex ideas or subtle nuances. "How did you say it? That they use... what’s the word... frequencies? To make people wake up in the middle of the night?"

"Exactly!" Jobe got excited, leaning forward. "And you have to admit, it makes sense. Why else would so many people have insomnia at the same time?"

"Hmm, I don’t know," Sarah pretended to think. "Maybe because they spend the whole night talking to someone in another city?"

Jobe feigned indignation. "Are you blaming me for your insomnia, Miss Sarah?"

"Maybe," she replied with a teasing smile. "Or maybe it’s the government’s waves."

They laughed together, and the familiarity of that absurd conversation brought comfort. It was like they were back to their late-night phone calls, but infinitely better because now they could see every little detail of each other's expressions, without delay, without blurry pixels.

"Do you want to watch something?" Jobe asked, pointing to the TV in the room.

Sarah nodded. "Sure. You can choose while... I take a quick shower? I’m feeling a little... sticky after all the excitement of the day."

"Perfect," he replied, grabbing the remote as Sarah picked out some clothes from her suitcase.

When Sarah came out of the bathroom twenty minutes later, wearing cotton shorts and a loose t-shirt, she found Jobe leaning against the headboard of the bed, with a mischievous smile on his face.

"What’s wrong?" she asked, drying some parts of her hair with the towel.

"I'm finally going to make you watch Star Wars," he announced triumphantly, pointing at the screen where the famous logo and yellow letters were ready to start.

Sarah groaned dramatically. "I knew you were going to take this opportunity!"

"You said you’ve never watched it. It’s practically a crime!"

"Okay, okay," she conceded, moving closer to the bed. "But I can’t promise I’ll stay awake till the end."

Jobe patted the space beside him. "Come on, lie down here. I’ll let you meet the best pillow."

Sarah furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

He tapped his chest, and she laughed. The sound filled the room, making Jobe laugh and beckon her with his finger – Sarah’s heart felt like it missed a beat, but she slowly approached.

He opened his arms, inviting her. "Like this, curled up. It’s the best way to watch Star Wars for the first time."

With her heart racing, Sarah settled beside him, letting him pull her into his chest. The sensation of his body against hers felt both strange and perfectly natural.

The movie began, but after a few minutes, Sarah furrowed her brow. "Jobe, it’s too fast."

"Oh, sorry!" he quickly grabbed the remote and navigated through the menu options. "I’ll put the subtitles in Portuguese."

When the subtitles appeared, Sarah settled more comfortably against him, trying to focus on the movie and not the feeling of his arm around her shoulders, or the warmth radiating from his body, or the steady, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat against her ear.

As the movie went on, Sarah allowed herself to relax more and more in Jobe’s arms. The physical closeness, after so many months of emotional and virtual proximity, was both comforting and electrifying. Every small movement, every shift in position sent waves of acute awareness through her body.

At some point, Jobe began absent-mindedly playing with a strand of her hair, wrapping it around his finger. The soft, repetitive touch made Sarah close her eyes briefly, absorbing the sensation.

"Are you paying attention?" he whispered against the top of her head.

"Kind of," Sarah confessed. "It’s hard to concentrate."

"On the movie or something else?" His voice had a playful tone but also carried a hint of tension, as if he was testing the limits of what he could say.

Sarah shifted to look at him, their faces dangerously close. "On everything," she replied honestly. "On you being here with me, after so long imagining what it would be like."

Jobe’s eyes darkened, and he lowered his gaze to her lips. Sarah felt the air between them grow thick, charged with possibilities and repressed desire. They were so close that she could feel his breath on her face, each exhale sending shivers down her spine.

Jobe subtly leaned in, closing the distance between them, his lips almost touching hers now. Sarah could swear she could taste him even before the contact.

At the last second, she turned her face, and his lips brushed lightly against her cheek. Sarah closed her eyes, her heart hammering against her ribs, her breath coming in small, trembling gasps.

Jobe felt a pang of uncertainty when Sarah turned away from the kiss, but the brief contact with the soft skin of her cheek was enough to send an electric shock through his body. He pulled back slightly, giving her space, but still keeping her in his arms.

‘Maybe she’s not ready,’ he thought, trying to calm his racing heart. ‘Or maybe I misread everything.’

But there was no denying the tension between them, the electricity that seemed to crackle in the air every time they touched. The long hours of deep conversations, of shared vulnerability through screens, had created an intimacy that now manifested physically, as if their bodies were magnets with opposite polarities, constantly pulled toward each other.

Sarah, for her part, felt her chest rise and fall quickly, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions overwhelming her. She wanted the kiss – God, how she wanted it – but fear paralyzed her at the last moment. Not fear of Jobe, but fear of what would come after, the intensity of what she felt for him, the implications of letting herself go completely for something that had started in such an unlikely way.

'What if I ruin everything?' she thought, as she pretended to focus on the movie. 'What if, after everything, it’s not like we imagined?'

But the feeling of his arms around her, the warmth of his body pressed against hers, the scent of his cologne mixed with something that was essentially Jobe – all these things seemed to pull her toward him, as if the gravity between them had increased exponentially.

On the screen, a space battle was unfolding, but neither of them was really watching. They were hyperconsciously aware of each other, of every little movement, every breath, every heartbeat.

"Sorry," Jobe murmured after several minutes of tense silence. "I shouldn’t have..."

"No," Sarah interrupted, turning to face him again. "Don’t apologize. It’s not that."

Their gazes met, and Sarah saw in those eyes all the vulnerability and desire that she herself felt. A heavy silence fell between them, loaded with unspoken words and unfulfilled wishes.

"What is it, then?" he asked, his voice little more than a rough whisper.

Sarah tried to find the words in English, but gave up. Some things were hard to express even in her native language. Instead, she slowly brought her hand to his face, her fingers softly tracing the line of his jaw. The touch was light as a feather, but filled with intention.

Jobe remained completely still, as if any movement could break the spell of the moment. His eyes never left hers, searching, questioning, waiting.

Sarah felt her whole body hum with anticipation as she leaned toward him again. This time, there was no hesitation in her movements. She closed her eyes and, finally, pressed her lips against his.

The first contact was gentle, almost reverent. A simple brushing of lips that lasted only a second, but felt like it contained entire universes. When she pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, she saw a whirlwind of emotions reflected there – surprise, joy, desire, relief.

Jobe let out a low sound, almost a contained moan, before sliding his hand to the back of her neck and pulling her back into another kiss. This one, unlike the first, had nothing of hesitation or gentleness. It was years of repressed desire, months of anticipation, weeks of anxiety – all culminating in this moment, this contact.

His lips moved against hers with controlled urgency, as if trying to hold back, but failing. Sarah felt her body respond, instinctively leaning closer to him, her fingers now tangling in the short hair on his head.

The kiss deepened naturally, their tongues meeting for the first time, exploring, tasting, discovering. Sarah couldn’t help but let out a sigh of pleasure when she felt his tongue slide against hers, sending waves of heat through her body. It was as if every nerve ending had awakened simultaneously.

Jobe’s hands, which had until then remained in safe places – one on her neck, the other on her waist – began to explore timidly. He slid his fingers under the hem of her t-shirt, touching the warm skin of her back, and Sarah arched involuntarily at the contact.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured against her lips, between kisses. "So, so beautiful."

Sarah felt a wave of confidence wash over her with his words. She shifted, adjusting her position to sit on his lap, one leg on either side of his hips. Jobe inhaled sharply at the new proximity, his hands instinctively finding her thighs, squeezing gently.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his breath quickening, his lips swollen from the kisses.

"More than okay," she replied, looking at him as if she were the most precious thing he had ever seen. "This is... perfect."

They kissed again, more deeply this time, their hands exploring with more boldness. Sarah felt his hands slide down her thighs, slowly rising, stopping respectfully at the hem of her shorts, as if asking for permission.

In response, she broke the kiss just long enough to pull her own t-shirt over her head, revealing herself to him. Jobe froze for a moment, his eyes scanning every exposed inch, with an expression of pure fascination, particularly on her breasts.

"Are you real?" he whispered, almost to himself, before bringing his hands to her bare waist, his thumbs tracing soft circles on her sensitive skin, gradually moving up toward her breasts.

Sarah smiled, feeling powerful with the effect she clearly had on him. “Very real,” she replied, helping him remove his shirt as well.

The skin-to-skin contact as she leaned in to kiss him again drew moans from both of them. It was an indescribable sensation, finally feeling the warmth of his body directly against hers, with no barriers. His hands explored her back, down to the curve of her waist, up again to finally touch her breasts.

“Perfect,” he murmured, as his thumb slid over her nipple, making her arch her back in response. “Made for me.”

He met her gaze, and Sarah felt herself melt at the intensity she found there. There was something deeply intimate about the way he never took his eyes off hers as his hands explored her body, as if he wanted to memorize every reaction, every sigh he provoked in her.

The remaining clothes were removed one by one, with pauses for kisses and caresses on each new piece of skin revealed. When her hand found the obvious bulge in his pants, Jobe let out a guttural moan, low and restrained, that made her whole body tingle with desire.

When they were finally completely naked, Jobe carefully reversed their positions, laying Sarah on the pillows and hovering over her for a moment, just looking at her with reverence. He stood over her in the missionary position, allowing their gazes to remain connected.

“I've dreamt about it,” he confessed, his voice husky with desire. “So many nights... you have no idea.” Sarah reached out to touch his face. “Me too,” she replied, feeling the heat rise through her body with the intensity of the moment. “Shit. Every day.”

He lowered his head to kiss her again, more gently this time, while his hands explored her body adoringly. Every touch seemed calculated to discover what made her sigh, what made her arch her back, what made her moan his name.

“May I?” he asked in a whisper, sliding his hand between her legs, his eyes never leaving hers.

Sarah nodded, unable to form coherent words as he began to touch her intimately, slowly discovering how to pleasure her. He carefully watched every expression on her face, adjusting his movements according to her responses.

“You're so beautiful like this,” he murmured, watching her squirm under his touch. “I want to see you fall apart for me, I want to hear my name on your lips.”

She couldn't resist for long under his dedication. When the pleasure hit her, Sarah dug her nails into his back, leaving marks that he would carry with pride for days to come. His name escaped her lips like a repeated prayer.

Jobe smiled, pleased with himself, before moving down, tracing a path of kisses down her body. “I want to taste you,” he said, looking down at her from between his legs. “May I?”

Before she could answer fully, he was already tasting her, his tongue exploring every inch with dedication and reverence. Sarah buried her fingers in his hair, arching up against his mouth, unable to contain the sounds of pleasure escaping her lips. Jobe seemed lost in her, as if he could spend hours there, completely devoted to pleasuring her.

When he finally pulled out, Sarah's body was already trembling with anticipation. He reached for the protection on his pants, quickly preparing himself before turning back to her, positioning himself between her legs.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his tone gentle despite the obvious need in his gaze.

“I am,” Sarah nodded, pulling him down for a deep kiss.

Their gazes met as he slowly joined her, moving with extreme caution at first, on the lookout for any sign of discomfort. “Tell me if I need to slow down,” he whispered against her lips.

But Sarah only wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, an action that drew a deep moan from Jobe's throat. He set a deliberately slow pace at first, savoring every sensation, every movement, every moan that escaped her lips.

“You're so perfect,” he whispered in her ear, between restrained moans. “So perfect for me... as if you were made for me...”

The intimacy of the moment went far beyond the physical. It was the culmination of months of emotional connection, of vulnerability shared through cell phone screens, now finally realized in the meeting of their bodies. Their eye contact remained almost uninterrupted, intensifying every sensation, every emotion.

“You're doing so well for me,” he murmured, words of praise that made her body respond in ways she had never experienced before. “My sweet girl... so perfect...”

As the need grew, the pace gradually increased. Her hands gripped his back, her nails leaving soft marks on his skin, while he alternated between burying his face in her neck and looking directly into her eyes, all the while murmuring words of adoration.

“Please tell me this is good for you,” he begged, his voice almost pleading. “Tell me I'm making you feel good...”

“It's amazing,” she managed to reply between moans. “You're amazing, Jobe... don't stop...”

Those words seemed to ignite something inside him. His movements became more intense, more determined, but without losing that connection, that undivided attention to her pleasure. His hands explored every inch of her body they could reach, as if trying to memorize every curve, every texture.

When he felt she was close to the edge again, he slid a hand between their bodies, touching her in a way that intensified her pleasure. “I want you to get there again,” he whispered. “I want to feel you come apart around me... give it for me, baby.”

The climax hit them almost simultaneously - her first, with a muffled cry against his shoulder, and then him, with a guttural moan and her name repeated like a sacred mantra. Jobe stayed connected to her for long moments afterwards, their bodies still trembling with the waves of pleasure, their jagged breaths mingling in the small space between their faces.

When they finally separated, Jobe didn't pull away completely. He lay down next to her and immediately pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair, inhaling her scent deeply.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her back. “Wasn't I too... intense?”

Sarah smiled against his chest, feeling completely satiated and protected. “It was perfect,” she murmured, still trying to normalize her breathing. “Better than I could have imagined.”

He kissed the top of her head, his fingers now sliding down her body, touching every little mark, every freckle, every little scar with reverence. “You were amazing to me,” he whispered. “So incredible... my sweet girl...”

They stayed like that for a few minutes, just absorbing each other's presence, until Jobe gently pulled away. “I'll get you a towel,” he said, kissing her softly before getting up.

When he returned from the bathroom, he cleaned her up with care and affection before returning to the bed and pulling her back into his arms. Sarah nestled against him, fitting perfectly into his embrace.

“I think we missed an important part of the movie,” he joked, indicating with his head the television where the Star Wars credits were silently rolling.

Sarah laughed, tracing lazy circles on his chest with her fingertips. “We can watch it again tomorrow.”

Jobe's smile faltered slightly. “Tomorrow... I have to go back to Sunderland tomorrow,” he reminded, a tone of sadness evident in his voice. “And you to Manchester.”

Sarah felt a tightness in her chest as she remembered this fact. After so much closeness, after finally overcoming that barrier, the idea of separating seemed almost painful.

"What time do you need to leave?" she asked, her voice small.

"We're leaving in the afternoon," he replied, pulling her closer as if trying to merge their bodies. "I should head back to my room before the night check. Actually... I should already be there now."

Sarah lifted her face to look at him. "Are you going to get in trouble?"

He smiled, gently touching her face. "It would be worth any trouble," he answered sincerely, then sighed. "But probably not. I'll say I was with my family."

She nodded, leaning back against him again. "I don't want you to go," she confessed softly.

"I don't want to go either," he admitted, intertwining his fingers with hers. "I spent so much time imagining what it would be like to be with you like this... and now it feels impossible to pull away."

"Then stay!"

***

As the rising sun began to cast its first rays through the gap in the curtain, Jobe slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the tangle of golden curls spread across the pillow next to him. Sarah was fast asleep, breathing softly, her face serene, and her lips slightly parted.

Jobe allowed himself to watch her for a moment. Her curls glistened in the touch of the morning light, creating the impression of a solar halo around her face. ‘She really does look like the sun,’ he thought, recalling the countless times he'd mentally compared her hair to golden rays.

He stretched his arm to grab his phone and noticed there were already several messages. Three were from Jude.

[07:15] Jude: Still alive, or did she kill you from exhaustion?

[07:45] Jude: You need to get back to your room before anyone notices you didn’t sleep there, remember? Your coach is going to kill you.

[08:10] Jude: Jobe, answer me. I just want to know if I need to come up with an excuse if I run into your coach downstairs.

Jobe smiled, typical of his older brother – always worried, always looking out for him, even when he pretended to just be being practical. He quickly typed:

[08:35] Jobe: I’m alive. More alive than ever, actually. I’ll make it in time, don’t worry.

[08:35] Jude: So, she’s really special then. Never seen you lose track of time because of someone.

[08:36] Jobe: She’s... different. I’ll tell you later.

Jobe set the phone aside and turned his attention back to Sarah. His fingers gently traced the contour of her shoulder, feeling the soft skin. He had never been someone for deep connections or opening up easily. But with Sarah, from the very first moment, something had been different. Like there was an invisible thread pulling him toward her, something he couldn’t – and didn’t want to – resist.

Sarah shifted under his touch, her eyes slowly opening, adjusting to the light. When she recognized him, a sleepy smile appeared on her lips.

"Good morning," she murmured, her voice hoarse from sleep.

"Good morning, sunshine," Jobe replied, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

Sarah stretched like a lazy cat, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Were you watching me sleep?" she asked, with a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

"Guilty," he admitted. "Your curls look like gold when the light hits them. Like sunrays."

Jobe knew how to make Sarah blush, and she hid her face against his chest. He noticed how different she was in the morning — softer, more vulnerable, almost shy. A completely opposite version of the confident woman from the night before. That duality fascinated him.

"What time do you need to leave?" Sarah asked, her voice muffled against his skin.

The question brought a weight to the atmosphere. Jobe felt her body tense slightly, as if she were bracing herself for the goodbye, for the inevitable moment when their bubble would burst.

"We still have a few hours," he replied, running his fingers through her curls. "I ordered breakfast in the room. I don't want to leave here yet."

Sarah lifted her gaze to him, her eyes revealing a mix of relief and uncertainty. Jobe could see the thoughts racing behind her eyes. Was she wondering if she was just another one for him? If what they shared meant something more than just the night before?

"What is it?" he asked softly, touching her chin.

Sarah bit her lower lip, hesitant. "Nothing, just..." she began, but stopped.

"Tell me," Jobe gently insisted. "What's going through that head?"

Sarah took a deep breath. "It's just that... this was really intense for me. And I don't know what it means for you. If it was just... you know, a one-night thing."

There was a fragility in her voice that made Jobe’s heart tighten. He had never been good with words, always preferring actions. But in that moment, he knew he needed to find the right words.

"Sarah," he said, holding her face in his hands. "I'm not good at this. I'm not good at opening up or getting to know new people. But from the moment I saw you, I knew it would be different with you. This isn’t just a one-night thing for me."

Her eyes sparkled with a mix of surprise and hope. "Really?”

In response, Jobe pulled her closer, capturing her lips in a slow, deep kiss. He felt her body melt against his, the vulnerability of the morning giving way to something hotter, more intense.

Her hands began to explore his body, and he felt desire growing again, as if all the hours spent the night before hadn’t satisfied anything, only increased the hunger they felt for each other.

"I want you," he whispered against her lips. "Again. Now."

Sarah responded with a soft moan, her legs wrapping around his waist as Jobe pulled her up onto him. The sunlight now bathed the entire room, illuminating their intertwined bodies.

There was something different about this moment — an urgency mixed with tenderness, as if every touch was both a goodbye and a promise. Sarah arched against him, her golden curls falling like a curtain around their faces, creating a world just for them.

Jobe gently turned her, placing her beneath him, his eyes never leaving hers. There was a raw intensity in his gaze as he moved, each motion deliberate, each response from her body engraving itself into his memory.

"Jobe," she gasped, her nails leaving light marks on his back.

He savored her name on her lips, the way it sounded like a prayer, a confession. He had never felt anything so right, so complete. When pleasure enveloped them, it wasn’t just physical, but something that seemed to overflow, filling every empty space Jobe never knew existed inside him.

Then, as they caught their breath, intertwined under the disheveled sheets, Jobe traced invisible patterns on her skin. "I want to show you something," he said, suddenly.

Sarah watched him with curiosity as he stood up and went to the bathroom. She heard the sound of running water, and soon Jobe reappeared, extending his hand to her.

"Shower?" he invited with a smile.

Sarah took his hand, letting him guide her to the bathroom where the steam was already beginning to fill the room. Jobe noticed how she seemed small next to him, her delicacy contrasting with his athletic frame.

Without warning, he lifted her in his arms, provoking a small gasp of surprise followed by her laughter.

"What are you doing?" Sarah asked, her arms automatically wrapping around his neck.

"I’ve been dying to do this with you," he replied, carrying her into the shower.

The hot water fell over them, and Sarah closed her eyes, savoring the sensation. Jobe watched, fascinated, as her golden curls darkened with the water, sticking to the skin of her shoulders and back.

He grabbed the soap and began to glide it over her shoulders, turning the shower into a ritual of care and intimacy. Sarah sighed under his touch, her eyes opening to meet his.

"I never imagined you’d be like this," she confessed.

"Like what?"

"So... present. So attentive." Her hands slid up his wet chest. "Football players are usually known for being... distant, only concerned with themselves."

Jobe felt a tightening in his chest. Was she comparing him to others? Had she been just one among many for him in the past?

"I'm not like the others," was all he could say, his voice lower than he'd intended.

Sarah seemed to notice the change in his mood and moved closer, the water running between their bodies. "I know," she whispered. "That's why... that's why I'm scared."

"Scared of what?"

"That it will end the moment you walk out that door. That it will just be a beautiful, fleeting memory."

The vulnerability in her voice hit Jobe hard. He had never cared before about what was left behind. But now, the thought of Sarah thinking she was just another one made his stomach churn.

"Look at me," he asked, gently lifting her chin. "I live in Sunderland, and you live in Manchester. It's not the end of the world. It’s just a few hours away, not another planet."

A small smile appeared on her lips. "Are you suggesting that...?"

A knock on the door interrupted the moment. Breakfast had arrived.

They dried off and dressed quickly, Jobe wrapping Sarah in one of the hotel’s fluffy robes, which seemed to swallow her whole. The sight of her like that, with wet hair and a makeup-free face, swimming in her oversized robe, made something inside him melt.

"You look adorable," he said, kissing the tip of her nose as he opened the door for room service.

They had breakfast in bed, feeding each other pieces of fruit and stealing kisses between sips of coffee. The atmosphere was lazy and intimate, as if they were isolated from the rest of the world.

It was the shrill ring of Jobe’s phone that finally broke the bubble. Chris’s name flashed on the screen.

"I have to take this," he said, throwing an apologetic look at Sarah before answering the call. "Hey, Chris."

"Where the hell are you, man? The bus leaves in an hour, and the coach is already asking about you. He said you were in the room talking to your family, but he doesn’t seem convinced."

Jobe felt the weight of reality return. "I’m coming down. I’ll be there in ten minutes."

"You better be," Chris replied. "She must really be special if you're risking the coach’s wrath like this."

Jobe looked at Sarah, who was silently watching the conversation, a piece of toast forgotten in her hand. "She is," he simply replied before hanging up.

The silence that followed seemed loaded with all the unspoken words between them. Jobe stood up and started gathering his scattered belongings.

"I have to go," he said the obvious, hating the finality in his voice.

Sarah nodded, putting the plate aside and hugging her knees to her chest. "I know."

Jobe stopped what he was doing and sat beside her on the bed. "Hey," he softly called. "This isn’t goodbye." Sarah tried to smile, but didn’t reach her eyes. "People always say that."

"I’m not 'people,'" Jobe retorted, holding her face in his hands. "Look, I don’t know exactly what’s happening between us, but I know I don’t want it to end here. It’s not just distance that will keep me away from you."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, Sarah couldn’t hide her disbelief. "Do you really want..."

"I want much more than that," he admitted, surprised by his own honesty. "I want to know you. For real. All the details, all the stories. I want to know what makes you laugh and what keeps you awake at night."

A genuine smile finally lit up Sarah’s face. "I want that too."

Jobe finished getting dressed, aware of her gaze following every move he made. When he was ready, he sat next to her again, taking her hands in his.

"I need to go now," he said. "But before..."

He pulled out his phone and opened the camera. "I haven’t forgotten the picture," he joked, trying to ease the tension in the moment.

Sarah laughed and took a few portraits. During one of their long calls, he had promised he would keep a picture of Sarah to remind her how much better she would look after meeting him. A boost of confidence, but not a lie.

When he handed the phone back, Jobe immediately went to check the photos. Smiling, in a different way. But he didn’t see when Sarah took the opportunity to capture the exact moment.

"Two can play this game," she said, a smile on her lips.

"Now you have mine too," Jobe couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

Sarah had an interesting effect on him.

She nodded, biting her lower lip to hold back the emotion. Jobe leaned in and kissed her, a slow and deep kiss that carried all the feelings he still didn’t know how to express in words. He savored the taste of her, memorizing the sensation, the aroma, the texture of her soft lips against his.

When he pulled away, he saw her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Are you going to run away from me, Sarah Lima?" he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.

She shook her head. "No. And you?"

Jobe smiled, a genuine smile that lit up his eyes. "You’re going to need a lot more than living in another city to get rid of me."

With one last kiss, he stood up and grabbed his hoodie. At the door, he turned to look at her one last time, wrapped in the oversized robe, her golden curls beginning to dry in rebellious spirals, her eyes fixed on him.

"See you soon," he promised. It wasn’t goodbye. It was just the beginning.

As he descended in the elevator, Jobe sent a message to Jude:

[09:47] Jobe: I think I just met someone who could change everything.

[09:48] Jude: Finally, my little brother is growing up. I can’t wait to hear this story.

Jobe smiled at his phone, slipping it into his pocket. For the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to the future and the possibilities it brought. Sarah wasn’t just another one. She was the beginning of something new, something he was willing to explore, no matter the distance between them.

dividers by @cafekitsune

pictures from pinterest and ig

If you want to join the tag, let me know. Until next time 💋

[sometimeslwish]

Something Just Like This (With Caleb)

I swear this fucker gave me so much trouble.

Just in case you guys don't know about the terms used for the intended audience:

M4F = male for female | M4M = male for male | M4A = male for anyone | M4TM = male for trans male | M4TF = male for trans female

Word count: 1,939

Tags: So voice acting, just general +18 content, Caleb being a bit of a freakazoid but what's new?, some shame, nothing too explicit, just mentions of fluff, smut, crack, little bit of parasocial relationships at the end.

Social media handles

Youtube

Started as CaptainAppleAsmr later rebranded into yourfriendlyneighborhoodva.

Instagram

Captaincaleb – private account, only the people closest to him have access. That's where he posts about his friends, selfies and other more personal things.

CaptainApple – secondary account, a bit messy but very him. Random pictures and videos of him (without his face in them) doing random shit, planes and beautiful skies, just little things that he likes. Gideon and Zayne sometimes make a bit of an appearance via body parts or voices.

Twitter 

Captainappleasmr – the other one had too many letters, so he couldn't rebrand it like he wanted to. Interacts a lot, like, it looks like he doesn't sleep (he does, he just sleeps like shit) because he does it at random hours of the day.

How it started

He started earlier than Zayne and it was a completely impulsive decision. He was bored when he stumbled into boyfriend asmr one day and listened out of pure curiosity, only to fall into a rabbit hole and decide to make an incredibly stereotypical boyfriend crack audio and post it for fun. The audio quality was shit, he kept breaking and laughing too much, you could even hear the contained laughter in his voice as he tried to get through the lines.

— It took him a few days between classes to finish editing and, at some point, Zayne even looked at him like he was considering taking him to the hospital because he kept giggling like a maniac.

— The audio was fairly short– barely made it to 8 minutes– so he decided to add the blooper reels at the end. It was mostly him bursting out with laughter and going:

“I'm crazy, this is crazy– no, this is downright psychotic” “Why am I doing this? Who gave me this idea?” “Am I okay? I don't think I am” “I might've lost my remaining sanity… this is so fun though” "Oh god, this is horrible, I love it” "For anyone wondering: no, I'm not on drugs, I'm on haribo gummy bears and an apple soda” 

— Everyone loved it and because he had a blast, he kept doing it and eventually stuck with it as a hobby. It was scripts that would play too much into the stereotypes of the different boyfriends (toxic, macho, brooding, all that shit) just pure crack and cringe one liners that would make him lose it. 

— Eventually, as he bought better equipment and wrote more scripts, he slowly started getting more serious and writing really good scripts that didn't play too much into things. 

— A year and a half into voice acting, he started doing collabs with other people. It started with bribing Zayne into one of his videos only for it to snowball into him doing more collabs with other people. It's the reason why he rebranded into yourfriendlyneighborhoodva. Sometimes he even organizes collab events.

— Gideon didn't become his editor until he interrupted Caleb while in the middle of filming an audio. At the time, they were only roommates, close enough to talk about chores, food and expenses but not close enough to be friends. Gideon used to be an editor for a different voice actor before they stopped doing audios altogether and left the community, and said voice actor had made a collab with Caleb once. So, when they had the whole “I'm a va but you gotta keep it a secret” conversation, Gideon offered to be his editor, using the past va as a way to show his editing. That's how their friendship started.

Channel

— Kind of tech/summer theme. The thumbnails look like a little interface with pops of color and his intros always have those satisfying little spaceship sounds. (What a fucking nerd and loser).

— His videos come out on saturdays, it took him a while to get into that schedule. He used to do it on tuesdays but then he missed one too many posts and kept moving the posting schedule along the week until it stopped at saturday.

— The videos are captioned, the subtitles are right in the center of the screen and big enough to be read from a safe distance. When asked, he said he just felt like doing that.

— All of them, M4A, M4F, M4M, M4TM, M4TF, it's like he's catering to the people. The nicknames he uses are pip-squeak, short stack, baby, pretty baby (mostly, but also girl, boy, lady), honey, cupcake, sunshine and many more.

— The fans begged and pleaded with him to do a Spiderman audio and, boy, did it go crazy. So that was the start of him adding non-human characters into the list of roles he played.

— Did an android boyfriend once, went great, found a way to make a series based on being a robot and now it's one of his most famous characters. The other one's that he's played are: pirates (space and sea), werewolves, angels and demons, knights, and a noble once (didn't really like it). 

— Has two famous series: X-02 (a story about two kids running away from a scientist facility) Into Farspace (a space colonel and a stow away falling in love).

— He lost a dare and his punishment was doing a puppy hybrid audio. It backfired horrendously, because 1) he enjoyed it, and 2) the fans loved it. It became a recurring character and his third most famous one.

His sfw content

— Enemies to lovers– proper enemies to lovers, not the bully bulshit (he hates it)– friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, neighbors to lovers, strangers to lovers. Every single "___ to lovers" under the sun, he has done it.

— The most dynamic: boy next door, classmate, work colleague, childhood friend. He's played barista, jock, baker, gardener, he's played adorkable nerd with his knowledge from planes. Very playful and teasing, great at playing a himbo, also alternates between playing the older and younger friend. He shifts through character tags like they're clothes and wears them like a pro. 

— Sometimes he does elaborate fantasy-action related audios and let me tell you, his pained grunts and screams are so incredibly realistic that hearing it the first time will shock you. I don't know how he does it.

— The softer stuff is just as all over the place as his character tags; cute cooking at home dates, road trips, cuddle scenes, play fights, calming you during a thunderstorm audios, getting stranded, the one bed scenario and many other ways of forced proximity that lead to romance. 

— Will play a yandere from time to time. He does them in different levels of danger and different sub-types. You have the sweet harmless ones, the possessive or obsessive ones. He's a huge fucking nerd in that area because he did a lot of research. He prefers doing yandere x yandere audios or yandere listener audios, it gives him the heebie jeebies to be the only yandere (His words in the Q&A).

— Blooper reels, the fans love it so much that he saves the bloopers from every video and compiles them into 10 minute videos. The same words or lines said repeatedly with different tones and fluctuations, clumsy moments where he bonks the mic or anything close to him, random noises outside followed by little crash outs, “Wait- what am I saying?” or “No- hold on- damn it” whenever he mispronounces a word or says the words in the wrong order. Moments where he breaks character, Gideon's voice making an appearance whenever he interrupts in the middle of filming, being a meme lord and humming any random melodies. Just… mundane things that make him more human and “just a guy” to his audience.

His nsfw content 

He wasn't really comfortable with it at the beginning. He’d get hard while saying the lines and the fake moaning made him feel so much shame he wanted to drop dead. He questioned his life choices multiple times, re-did the takes and stressed over the script even more. And there’s only so much shame you can feel while getting hard before it comes full circle and starts turning you on instead. 

— That being said, the first audio was filled with so much shame fuelled horniness that it turned into a ramblefap. He got too lost in the character and when he revised the audio, he decided to turn that mishap into a phone sex audio and leave the original script for another day. From then on, a light dose of self-degradation made its way into the list of kinks he does.

— His first few ramblefaps were times where he got too horny to be able to continue the script properly. He got a lot of encouragement on the first one, so he alternates between posting the derailed moments and recording when he gets horny. 

— He's done first times on both sides– speaker and listener– has done one night stands that ended in more and “one thing led to another” sex between friends. But when it comes to established relationships, he's a bit more loose. 

— Free use for both him and the listener, same with somnophilia and choking. It took him a while to do a bottoming audio– mans was flustered as fuck– but it became another thing he did occasionally in his audios once he got the hang of it. 

— That boy begs to be ordered around, he's eager and needy and just ready to please. He tried the mommy kink once and refuses to do it again, he can't admit to himself that he has a mommy kink. He'll call you master or mistress without even thinking about it, but mommy? Nope, he'll turn into the biggest brat there ever was. Which is worse, cause that's the reason he enjoys doing the bratty-sub audios. 

— He doesn't do many dom audios, but when he does get in the headspace to write a dom script, he's a lot more stern and assertive. He still focuses on the listeners pleasure and brat tames from time to time, but it's a rare treat. On those there's orgasm control, multiple orgasms for the listener, rough sex with some spanking and slight condescension. 

— He has two events that remind the fans of how much of a freakazoid he is; No Nut November (NNN) and the whole month of october. Both of those months go into the more slight dub-con and cnc route of things. This routine started because of a fan showing him a script that entailed some scream themed predator/prey consensual non-consent play in the woods. After that, October and November became the established months for more hard kink/taboo related stuff.

— His nsfw audios are the longest because he does aftercare at the end of them. Even for his porn without plot audios, the last 5 to 10 minutes will be dedicated to the aftercare.

Extra things

— Gideon only gets access to the audios that didn't end with Caleb jerking off. It's one thing to fake moans, it's another for your homie to hear you actually masturbate and as much as he has a thrill for danger, he's not about to play that game with his friend.

— No face reveal, he likes teasing (and distracting) the fans with hand pics and little clips of him exercising. All of the va's he's met in person always mention his muscles and height.

— Interacts a lot with his fans but makes sure to keep boundaries. Sometimes he'll do a live on instagram where they get to accompany him while he edits because having his phone occupied helps him from getting distracted. He tends to wear a mask and glasses in those situations.

Series masterlist.

[borkunlimited]

Luke & Kieran's Bakery Attack(s) - 3

Running around the N109 zone takes energy and what is the best way to deal with that? Buying pastries and paying for them later, of course! (They are not stealing if you plan to pay.) Yet, that is only half the fun because what they really come for in that little bakery is that cute sheep hybrid who holds a grudge on them till kingdom come. A Sheep Hybrid! Reader x Wolf Hybrid! Luke & Kieran Tags: Luke x Reader, Kieran x Reader, Fluff, Banter, Predator/Prey Chapter Summary: In which Luke and Kieran brings you to see their greatest prank yet. Author's Note: Finally getting back to this! AO3 Attack Count: 1 / 2 / 3 This is a side story of Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Dragon Hybrid! Sylus x Deer Hybrid! Reader)

Attack # 3: Two Jackets Plus 1

“What is this supposed to be?”

“A sheep.”

“Your sheep sucks, Luke,” you pointed out, looking at the video you took of him drawing something in the air using one of the sparklers they brought with them on the rooftop of the building currently under construction all three of you are standing right now.

It was a school night.

You shouldn’t be here but they both said they are about to give the N109 zone an unforgettable night (“Sheepie, it’s going to be so grand!”, that’s what they kept telling you when you followed them out of your bedroom window.)

“Your wolf isn’t any better,” Kieran commented, showing you his phone and he snickered when you slapped his arm.

“It isn’t a wolf, it’s a cat.”

“Oh so here we are drawing your likeness and you did someone else’s?”

“That’s the cat you dump in our bakery, dumbass.”

Technically, they didn’t dump the cat the boss set aside during a shootout near the miss’ tailor shop.

“The correct phrase is leaving Mr. Orange under your temporary care,” Luke said, his arm wrapped around your shoulders while he took a video of his brother doing another attempt of drawing a sheep using a sparkler which is beginning to look more like a cloud.

“You guys could have at least dropped a bag of cat food at home,” you mumbled, pulling their jackets closer to you.

Their jackets because when you complained you were cold, both of them were quick to drape theirs and even when you need just one, it is clear that they won’t take no for an answer.

It isn’t so bad having two, especially when you are just wearing a thin cardigan and pajamas underneath.

“We can just go shopping with you for Mr. Orange,” Kieran shrugged, midway on trying to create another sheep using his sparkler and sure, you are fine with that but they are basically driving you broke (A parfait costs too much these days and it didn’t help you cover for their tab back at the bakery!) so you replied:

“We split the bill.”

“Damn, we are actually going to be the one paying, cream puff, but if you insist-”, Luke said playfully then he laughed when you shake his arm, the last seconds of the video most likely blurry.

“No, no, you handle the finances, I do the services.”

“Don’t know, marshmallow, doesn’t sound like equality to me.”

“You’re a piece of shit, Luke.”

“That’s not how you talk to your financers, sheepie,” Kieran replied, poking your cheek and making you huff in the process before he held your wrist, leading you to sit on one of the crate boxes nearby.

Aside from the sparklers and snacks they have brought with them, nothing gave away what exactly they are planning to show you that all of you should be here, sneaking inside a private property that Mr. Sylus probably owns.

“We love it when the boss gives us this kind of assignment,” Luke laughed, borderline maniacally, and you swear if you aren’t friends with them, you would have run away as far as possible ("What if they eat you up?", your older brother's words echoed inside your head but you still hang out with Luke and Kieran.)

“We’ll let you do the honors,” Kieran grinned beneath his mask, handing you a remote and he pointed at the red button, “Press it for a surprise.”

“If you dragged me here to just glitter bomb me again we will no longer be friends.”

They know it was just playful banter and yet-

-Their grins falter slightly at your words even when you are completely oblivious, your attention towards the item.

(They don’t get cold easily but suddenly, the night breeze has a certain bite on their skin.)

“What? That’s so lame. We don’t repeat pranks,” Luke huffed, his chuckle slightly strained as he sat at your right, “Now scoot over.”

“We’re professionals,” Kieran quickly added, and the small fear that ran up their spines quickly disappeared in favor of getting as close as possible to you, his shoulders touching yours just like his brother’s, “So hit the button, sheepie, we don’t have all night.”

Their tails wagging this hard means whatever they want you to see, it is thoroughly planned out (Get pranked by them multiple times and you will know the gravity of their prank based on their tails alone.)

Fine, since you are already here.

Nothing happened at first when you pushed the button and you were about to throw it straight to either of their faces (Doesn’t matter who gets hit.) until the entire dark surroundings lit up.

The night sky of the N109 zone is filled with colorful lights going in different directions and when you think that’s it, it is followed by a series of fireworks forming a sheep.

No wonder why they wanted to brag it off to someone.

“Boss said to set them on fire after what the owners of the warehouses did outside Miss Deer’s shop.”

“Of course we could have just done arson and called it a day but you gotta send a message, you know?”

The fire from the two warehouses continues to flicker and the sound of fireworks continue to boom followed by the alarms of nearby cars going off and you swear it will reach your small community where all the prey hybrids are now sleeping. 

(‘It’s those damn kids again,’ your elderly neighbor’s voice suddenly springing inside your head, complete with his face peering from his upstairs window every time he shouts at Luke and Kieran already running away.)

“You guys outdone yourself with this one.”

Perhaps they are rubbing off on you, not when there is literally a crime happening in front of you and the perpetrators are sitting on both of your sides but then again, this is the N109 zone.

This is just your usual explosion, a little over the top, but yeah.

“You finally said something nice for once, sheepie,” Luke grinned, poking your right cheek.

“We can’t believe it would take fireworks for you to say that. You really do have high standards, cream puff,” Kieran added, poking your left cheek.

(Which is understandable. Girls like you deserve the best after all.)

Good thing you are busy rolling your eyes at them as you snack on the chips they brought along that you didn’t notice how hard their tails are wagging just by that compliment alone.

Maybe they’ll ask the boss if he has other buildings he wants to blow up when they get back.

────────────────────

Using the front door to your home that also serves as your family’s bakery is a foreign concept to Luke and Kieran.

The boss wants them to get something sweet for Miss Deer? They’ll just go via the back door, much easier that way and they get extra especially when your parents are there 

(“Oh, it’s your friends again!”, your mama will exclaim and your papa is already setting a bag of treats for them as well on the go.)

Your older brother is keeping a lookout for them? That dumb dog doesn’t know they can climb their way inside your home via the attic window.

(“Look at marshmallow during her kindergarten graduation!”, Luke snickered, opening one of the old photo albums stacked in one pile followed by the sound of the camera from Kieran’s phone going off.)

They want to remind you they are still alive and breathing? A wall run, a few jumps on the ledges, and a quick push of your bedroom window would do the trick. 

(Of course, they only do that when they know you are in your room or they know you are on your way up. “Don’t you guys have your own room back at Mr. Sylus’ house?”, you grumbled and they snickered, telling you their room doesn’t have an angry sheep in it.)

It was close to midnight when the three of you got back, the two of them helping you step inside your room through your window with Kieran telling you it wouldn’t be too bad if you break your leg if you fall down. (“That means we get to hang out more,” he explained and you huffed, “Right. At my own expense.”)

You immediately collapse on top of your bed, sinking on top of the cold blankets, cool enough on your skin that you may not be able to wake up with the ten alarms you have set that have a 5 minute interval.

“Why are you guys still here?”, you mumbled against your pillow, pulling your stuffed blue heeler plushie near you. “I still have school tomorrow.”

Your small bed creaked slightly, their weights pressing down and honestly, they are yet to figure out how exactly you know they are staring but they will eventually. The answer must lie to one of the books about prey hybrids that the boss reads every now and then.

“Our jackets, madame.”

“It is cold, our dear holiest sheep, so if you will be so kind to return them-”

Kieran didn’t finish his sentence, not when you already threw in their faces their jackets.

Even when they both look and sound identical at a quick glance, there are still subtle differences that usually only the two of them know.

One of them is how their clothes fit.

One would be quick to assume that they share the same size in clothes but their uniforms that the boss had tailored fit for them have a one and a half inch margin of difference.

Still, it isn’t much but Luke always complains if he wears Kieran’s by accident.

Yet, two becomes three because you always-

-You always get who owns which.

“You know we can loan them out to you,” Luke snickered, putting on his jacket, his brother mirroring his action.

“No thanks, you smell weird, Luke,” you grumbled, pulling the blankets over your head, a signal that you really do need to sleep or else you will be in that state where you think you are awake for the class but already doing an astral projection.

(Hopefully, you can sneak a few minutes of nap time on the way to school when riding the train.)

“Hey, take that back!”

“I told you to shower.”

“I did! Don’t ruin my rep to her, idiot!”

“Spraying deodorant doesn’t count-”

“Please, I just want to sleep,” you moaned against your pillow, your voice breaking their one of many disagreements and of course, Luke just had to appeal to your good graces by acting like a kicked wolf pup (It doesn’t work but 99% of every person who use this tactic quit before they win big.)

“I guess no good night kiss-”

Kieran was quick to cover his brother’s mouth with his hand, getting a hint that any more banter tonight and they will not be in your good side for quite awhile.

“Right, night, cream puff,” Kieran said and he let out a sigh of relief when you nodded under your blanket, too tired to argue with his brother’s unique tricks as they made their way out and onto the night.

“Maybe I am the one who was born first.”

“I heard that, dumbass!”

Every now and then, the younger twin forgets that the older one can also hear his thoughts and as the high of seeing you finally subside with every step they take further, further from your home, from the quiet neighborhood of this small community of prey hybrids, until the only image running in their minds is the reflection of fireworks of various colors on your eyes, Luke finally spoke.

“Did I really smell that bad today?”

“We both have good sniffers. Use yours.”

Luke doesn’t have to see the grin behind Kieran’s mask to know his twin is counting this as a victory in this playful competition for you even when they agreed to share.

Luke - 0

Kieran - 1

“I am going to beat his ass then we’ll be even.”

“Not if I beat yours first, Luke.”

Every now and then, the older twin forgets that the younger can hear his thoughts too.

────────────────────

Author's Note: I have always wanted to write a coming of age fic because I snort media like Skip and Loafer as if they will be removed from the internet tomorrow.

AO3

Attack Count: 1 / 2 / 3

[rosicheeks]

🫶

[humbuns]

please never go away

[sforzesco]

something. about. the horror of being sent on an impossible (death) quest and obligations and hospitality politics. the trauma of not having a home, and then the trauma of being in a house that becomes actively hostile to you, one that would swallow you whole and spit out your bones if you step out of line. all of this is conditional, your existence continues to be something men want gone.

it's about going back as far as I can with the perseus narrative because there's always a version of a myth that exists behind the one that survives. the missing pieces are clearly defined, but the oldest recorded version of it isn't there! and there's probably something older before that!! but it's doomed to forever be an unfilled space, clearly defined by an outline of something that was there and continues to be there in it's absence.

and love. it's also about love. even when you had nothing, you had love.

on the opposite side of the spectrum, this is Not About Ovid Or Roman-Renaissance Reception, Depictions And Discourses On The Perseus Narrative.

edit: to add to the above, while it's not about Ovid, because I'm specifically trying to peel things back to the oldest version of this story, Ovid is fine. alterations on the Perseus myth that give more attention Medusa predate Ovid by several centuries. this comic is also not about those, either! there are many versions of this story from the ancient world. there is not one singular True or Better version, they're all saying something.

Perseus, Daniel Ogden

Anthology of Classical Myth: Primary Sources in Translation, edited & translated by Stephen M Trzaskoma, R. Scott Smith, Stephen Brunet

[spade-inthe-microwave]

1. Depends. I'm a morning person, but I'm almost always up late and get things done at night

2. Usually game or RP

3. I would love to be able to do short films and sell my own paintings for a living.

4. Ambivert (sorry I know that wasn't an option lol)

5. Fall, all the way.

6. Fuck that's hard. Recently? It's been roast beef and cheddar sandwiches

7. Fiction. Usually Sci-Fi or Comics/Super-heroes

8. Too fucking many. Almost always my OCs, they're modeled after me in certain ways. Already existing characters? Yuuji Itadori from JJK. The horrors persist. Unfortunately, so do I.

9. I actually really like where I live. So I'd choose to keep living where I am.

10. Cassowary. Giant murder bird.

11. I hate to say it. Early/OG SuperWhoLock, Splatoon, and Undertale

12. Enemies to lovers because despite this person hating this other person severely, they still fall in love. This is only with certain renditions of EtL, not everything is super great lol

13. Waffles. Holds butter better and I like em crispy

14. I just want to be able to live my life comfortably and share my artistic visions with others without stressing between eating or bills.

15. Still being alive. Statistically, I should be very very dead, but I'm not. So I'm making it a problem for everyone else lol.

16. I would love to be able to increase my luck at variable levels. Like not increase my luck over all, just be able to choose each day how I'm lucky in certain departments. Like maybe I'm luckier with getting free food. But in exchange, I have a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of my shoe

17. "Hey! I love your Star Wars OC fic! When are we getting more?" Listen, I'll start writing again when I have a little more incentive to write. It already got scrapped by AI twice, so I kinda lost steam since no one really reads it lol.

18. "The same water that boils the egg softens the potatoes" or some shit like that. Just means pressure won't benefit everyone.

19. I like silver more, but gold looks better on me.

20. Video Game? Splatoon. All of them. I fucking love splatoon. Movies? Into the Spiderverse and Interstellar

21. Cassowary again. They're fucking awesome. Giant murder birds

No Pressure Tag: @kal10

TAG GAME!!

answer as many or as few as you want!!! its a free for all <33

are you a night or morning person?

what's your favourite thing to do when you have some free time?

dream job?

are you an extrovert or an introvert?

what's your favourite season?

favourite food?

favourite genre to read/watch

what fictional character(s) do you see yourself in? (and if you're comfortable, why?)

if you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

if you could shapeshift into one animal, what would it be?

what fandom(s) shaped you as a person?

what's your favourite theme/motif in media?

pancakes or waffles?

what's your biggest aspiration?

what's the achievement your most proud of? (as bit or little as you want!!)

if you had a superpower, what would it be?

whats a question you wish people would ask you more? (and whats the answer?)

what's your favourite piece of advice?

gold or silver jewelry?

whats your favourite video game/book/movie/show? (choose as many or few as you want)

what's your favourite animal (and why?)

(i'll be reblogging with my own answers and the people i'm tagging <3 count this as me tagging whoever wants to join!)

[killjoy-prince]

House M.D. but it's when Wilson says House's name

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The Quest Continues...

(part 1- part 2)