#but it’s okay i like doing all that but i do miss drawing and reading comics
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myriam-draws · 9 months ago
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get back here lesbian
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felsicveins · 8 months ago
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His heart belongs to another
And no other heart will do
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puppetlooselystrung · 11 months ago
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how much avoidance tendencies is too much avoidance tendencies cause this shit is RUINING my life
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wilwheaton · 7 months ago
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In a new interview with the New Yorker ahead of his 70th birthday on Monday, the comedian explained his theory about why there’s no “funny stuff” to watch on TV anymore. “Nothing really affects comedy,” he said, “People always need it. They need it so badly and they don’t get it.” Instead of getting sitcoms like M*A*S*H, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, and All in the Family, audiences miss out, he said, as a “result of the extreme left and P.C. crap, and people worrying so much about offending other people.” [...] A look back at some of his earlier comments on a similar subject adds some context, if not clarity. In 2015, Seinfeld sat down for an episode of The Herd with Colin Cowherd podcast, where he explained his aversion to performing stand-up on college campuses. “I don’t play colleges, but I hear a lot of people tell me, ‘Don't go near colleges. They’re so PC,’” he said on the show. After giving an example of his teenage daughter using the word “sexist,” he concluded that young people “just want to use these words: ‘That’s racist’; 'That’s sexist’; ‘That’s prejudice.’ They don’t know what they’re talking about.”
Jerry Seinfeld Draws Right-Wing Praise for Comments on ‘Extreme Left’
This is such a bummer. Tell me you’re a privileged, entitled, myopic Boomer without telling me you’re a privileged, entitled, myopic Boomer.
It’s interesting to me that he says these legendary sit-coms, none of which were cruel, punching down, or hurtful, but were actually satirizing power, celebrating women, changing societal norms through representation, and using comedy to do it all, wouldn’t exist if “the extreme left” had anything to do with it.
Umm. Who does he think created these shows? And is he really that ignorant? Has this guy never read a single interview with Norman Lear? Or literally anyone in the cast of Mary Tyler Moore? I mean. Come on, man!
Teenagers and college students don’t know what they’re talking about when they tell a privileged, entitled, multimillionaire Boomer that his “jokes” can be hurtful, and maybe he could use his tremendous talent to do comedy that is just as funny without being hurtful. Okay. Got it. Keep saying that, and see how far it gets you, buddy.
Hey, Jerry Seinfeld: when blue checks on Twitter are celebrating you being a dick, it’s not because you’re so funny and such a brilliant comic; it’s because they love how you’re validating what garbage they are. You can’t see that, or don’t care, and that’s such a huge bummer.
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c0llisiion · 1 month ago
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DAY 14 — MINCHAN
★ npr, f!reader, double penetration , threesome , softdom!chan, harddom!lmh, dumbification, anal, nicknames — lmk if i missed any!!; W/C: 919
Hello! This is part of my kinktober list! Day14 is officially out <3
This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable.
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[ visuals!! ]
“Just stay still, honey… daddy’s gonna make you feel so good…” Minho said softly as he pushed his fat cock into your tight asshole.
Your head was nuzzled into Chans neck, who was laid back against the headboard. His thick dick fit snug in your fucked-out pussy, your juices coating his length. You shudder as you feel Minhos cock inch further in you. Your breathing was ragged and heavy as you felt him push himself. Chans hand held the back of your thighs, drawing soothing circles on your flesh to relax your muscles.
“Fuck-“ Minho choked out as he was stretching out your hole, the globs of lube and your arousal helping just a bit. “Relax sweetie… you’re in safe hands… dont want Minho to feel uncomfortable, do we…?” Chan whispered in your ear, his voice soft and smooth, giving you the warmth of comfort.
You shook your head against his neck and muttered out a small ‘okay’ before relaxing yourself.
You hadn’t even realized you were tensed. Minhos cocked slipped in easily, making you shiver and arch your back against Chan's body.
Chan chuckles and runs a finger down your spine. Your body shudders at the different sensations. “You okay? Feels good?” Minho asks you, wanting to make sure you’re okay before starting to move. You nod and encourage him.
Minho glances at Chan, giving the older man a signal to start moving.
You were all of a sudden sent to heaven as you felt them move in you. It was a struggle at first. Minho and Chan tried to find a steady rhythm before eventually fucking into you at the same pace. Your head was hung low against Chan's collarbone, and your eyes were blown wide, almost drooling as they fucked into your holes. The feeling of both of their cocks penetrating your walls was making you writhe and roll your eyes to the back of your head.
“Fuck yeah baby… you like that shit, don’t you?” Minhos voice was gruff and dark as his hips started stretching your asshole out.
You whimper when you feel chan match the younger one’s energy. “Does it feel good, pretty? Yeah? Channies not hurting you, right?” Chan’s voice was delicate and calm in contrast to Minhos.
You shook your head and whined against his neck. Your body felt like jelly, and your mind was starting to get clouded. Minho pulled your head back, grabbing your hair in a ponytail. “look at him while you’re speaking. Don’t you know manners?” He whispered roughly in your ears, his other hand grabbing your ass cheeks before giving a small slap.
You cried out at Minhos demand and looked at Chan with your tear-stained eyes. Your forehead sweaty, and your lips are parted.
Chans expression was soft. He had a thin layer of sweat forming on his face. He grabbed your jaw and pushed his fingers in. “You’re doing so well… look at you.. taking mine and minho’s cock together… like a big girl, yeah?” You moaned against his fingers and held onto his wrist.
Your asshole and pussy clenched around their lengths and leaking arousal . Their cocks drilling into you at the same rate.
Minho was relentlessly in his thrusts. He made sure every inch of him was in you. “Oh god… fuck yeah baby… you take dick so well…” he chuckled darkly. Chan laughed along with the younger. “Of course she does… shes a good girl, aint you pretty?” He asks, his wet fingers wrapping around your neck. You nod incoherently. Your body is in a totally different dimension.
“Speak up, darling.” Minho pulled your head back and slapped your face softly.
“Now now.. don’t be harsh with her minho… poor baby is clearly cock drunk…” chans voice was smooth, with a sinister hint behind his words.
Minho glanced at your face and noticed your expression. “See? She is completely out of it… too dumb to even think…” chan smirked and trailed his hand down your body to your clit, flicking the sensitive bud.
You groaned and leaned forward, their cocks still pounding in you. Minho reflected the older man’s smirk. “Is that so, princess? Too dumb to even comprehend anything? Uh-huh?”
You cried out when you felt them go faster. Your hands gripping onto Chan’s biceps for dear life. You turn your face around to look at Minho, who was a panting moaning mess.
“Min…minho…?” You called out to him.
“Yeah doll? What is it?” He looked at you, observing your dazed eyes and sweaty face.
“M-more… n..need more… c-chan…” you were so fucked out to the point you mistakenly called Minho, Chan. 
Minho smirked before looking at the other man who was continuously playing with your clit. “Hear that, Hyung? Our little princess wants more apparently… dont you, princess?” He spanks you.
You whine and nod. Chan pressed against your clit making you moan and cry out a bit too loud. “Is that so? Princess wants more, does she now, huh?” He pretends to think. “Do you think she deserves it, Minho?" Their cocks slow down, completely halting after a moment.
You panic. The loss of penetration was making you tear up. “Hmm… in my opinion, no.” You look at Minho, sad and panicky, who had on a shit-eating smirk. “What? You didn’t like that?” You shook your head, your lower lip trembling. “So desperate…” he kissed your cheek. “What do you say, Hyung?" She’s practically begging for it..” Chan eyed you before sighing and smiling. “Anything for our princess.”
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Tags~ @cassies-cookies @minghaosimp @unlikelysublimekryptonite @mamnaimiefrankie @marcoswhore @theyadorevalerie @applejackthebest515 @un-knew @salemluvsmusic @ka0ila @atztrsr @kpopsmutty69 @jisunglyricist @targaryenluvs @yuminhyunn @chansramennn @anylady-fics @marihoneywk @mikaelless
If you want to be part of the taglist, do lmk!! ^^
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ssahotchnerr · 3 months ago
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girl!dad aaron reading to his daughter over the phone while on a case! 🥹 just like that one episode of jj and henry 😭🥰
nightmares
i will sob. 🥺 i'm also setting this in ellie's bad dreams era :( cw; fem!reader, girl dad!aaron, slight angst, fluff <3
"It looks like this is his comfort zone." Using a red marker, Spencer circled an area on the map. "If we pinpoint-"
As he was continuing his thought, Aaron's phone rang. He fully expected to see Penelope's name, anticipating her call as she was working her magic to narrow down a pool of potential unsubs. However, his eyebrows furrowed in worry as he saw it was from you instead.
"Excuse me." He spoke lowly yet urgently, keeping his eyes on his screen and hurrying away with no hesitation, missing the team's concerned glances.
"Hey," he answered, closing the door to the empty conference room behind him. There was knowing feeling deep in his chest - and a grim one at that. "Everything alright?"
"Kinda... no." You switched up quickly with a sigh, slight distress in your voice. "I'm sorry, I know you're busy. But can you spare a minute or two?"
"Another nightmare?" Aaron's eyes shot to the clock perched on the wall. While it was somewhat early for him, it was getting late back home, timezones to thank. And doing the math quickly, bedtime for the kids had been about two hours ago. So sadly this - right on schedule.
You hummed in confirmation, beginning with the positive first. "She fell asleep in her bed tonight, actually. Went down easy, not much protest. But then woke up crying, and was nearly inconsolable for a while. She's with me now." Your eyes shifted down to your frightened daughter besides you, who was inching closer and closer to seemingly making herself smaller. "And keeps asking for you."
Aaron glanced out; the team was still preoccupied, discussing the geographical profile amongst themselves, and could definitely manage without him for a while longer. "Yeah, I have some time."
There was a quick rustle as you set your phone down, placing it on speaker. Your voice was farther now, not by much, but it felt treacherously distant, as if more miles had been added. "It's Daddy, honey."
"Hey Ellie Bellie." Aaron's tone quieted, his face softening as he spoke. "What's the matter?"
A light sniffle came from the other end. "I had a scary dream."
"A scary dream, huh?" He repeated, an achy pang producing in his chest. Ellie's nightmares have been occurring for a while now, and indubitably becoming a problem. You both expected the dreams to run their course, eventually pass, and things would return to normal. But as time moved forward, it was becoming clear it was well beyond that as they worsened. "It's okay, you're safe with Mom now, right?"
Ellie nodded, unknowingly to him. Her small voice cracked, laced with tears. "I want you."
"I know, and I'll be home when work lets me, I promise. You can even use my pillow tonight too, if you want." He bit down onto his lip as Ellie mumbled a small 'okay' in response. Hard. "Or how about a story? Would that help you feel better?"
Her head rose up and down again, prompting you to speak up as Aaron was met with only her silence.
"We have a few right here." You reached across her, grabbing the few storybooks that frequented Aaron's nightstand and settling back against your own pillow.
"Your pick sweetheart." Aaron pulled a chair from the table, sitting down and making himself comfortable momentarily.
"Goodnight Moon?"
Goodnight Moon, also one of Jack's favorites when he was younger. Between him and Ellie, Aaron's read it so many times, he had the entirety of the book memorized. In addition, Ellie's other, more lengthy favorites - he had gone through and cleverly taken a picture of each page, all stored safely in his camera roll for instances such as tonight. No matter where he happened to be, he could read the text, while also drawing attention to and discussing the images with her.
"Sure. Get all comfy and cozy up to Mom, yeah?"
Ellie nestled herself more into your side, her head resting on your arm as she death-gripped onto her plush bunny. You adjusted the duvet to adequately cover the two of you, scooting down and propping the book up for the two of you to see.
"We're ready when you are." You told Aaron, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from Ellie's face.
As your brief sentence concluded, a harsh pinch formed behind Aaron's eyes, the guilt creeping in as he pictured the two of you laid together, where he also should've been. His little girl was beside herself in fear, wanted him, and yet here he was. Far away on the other side of the country. He felt as if he were failing her; letting her down.
Aaron swallowed to even out his voice, to sound as cheery as he possibly could, and to refrain any agony from being heard. He took a deep, yet small guttural breath.
"In the great green room..."
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arijackz · 25 days ago
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PICK A CARD: How You Hypnotize
❤︎ "People are afraid, very much afraid of those who know themselves. They have a certain power, a certain aura and a certain magnetism." - Rajneesh
Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you.
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p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4
✿ Pile One (5oW, Strength, 8oC, Judgement)
Do you have Mula (Sagittarius), Magha (Leo), or Ashwini (Aries) placements? You’re giving off some serious last-one-standing energy. Mula is particularly known for its ability to defy all odds, taking down a “beast” that seems far stronger through wit and quick resolve. It embodies the Belle archetype—well-read, gentle, and kind—able to reign in even the most formidable challenges. This energy suggests a remarkable strength in navigating difficult situations, using intelligence and empathy to emerge victorious.
Life has tried you, pushed you to the brink, and dangled you over a cliff. All while a crowd of people whooped and hollered, rooting for your demise.
But guess what… you’re the one sitting pretty on top of a mountain while everyone else is where?… oh, AT THE BOTTOM OF THE FUCKING CLIFF!
I didn’t plan this reading to be so… boastful? But you deserve to puff your chest out, babe.
You’ve had enemies. Honestly, this isn’t common. When the average person hears about somebody having a lot of “haters” they brush it off and assume that person just has a big head. However, that’s your reality. Your energy triggers people so they consider you a threat to whatever they have going on. For some of you, this could be your own family or closest friends. 
There’s a quiet, obsessive intensity behind your eyes. The fire element is prominent in this reading, indicating a deep, aching desire to consume, burn, and clear everything in your path. While you may feel exhausted from a lifetime of battles, your soul thrives on challenges, igniting a fierce determination within you. This duality fuels your passion, pushing you to confront obstacles head-on, even when the struggle feels overwhelming. Embrace that fire; it’s not just a source of exhaustion, but also a wellspring of resilience and transformation.
🎵YOU KNOW WHEN TO HOLLLDDD ‘EM, KNOWW WHEN TO FOOLLDD ‘EMM, KNOW WHEN TO WALLKKK AWAY, KNOW WHEN TO RUUUUUNNNNNN! 🎵
Your intelligence transcends mere book smarts and common sense, creating an incredibly hypnotic aura around you. Your situational awareness allows you to navigate social dynamics effortlessly, running circles around people, and leaving them tangled in their own webs of thought. You’re scarily smart, a strategic thinker who sees layers others miss. There’s a striking contrast between your physical appearance and the cunning nature beneath the surface; you may look like a doll, seemingly delicate and innocent, but there’s a fierce and dangerous intellect at play. This duality not only captivates those around you but also keeps them guessing about your next move. You also possess incredible endurance—not just in a physical sense, but in your ability to withstand a remarkable amount of bullshit that would have caused most people to tap out long ago.
People look at you and think, “How?” How are you still standing, and how did you manage to come out on top? This aura of resilience draws some people in, compelling them to want to learn your secrets. However, not everyone’s interest is innocent; for some, it morphs into a dark obsession, pushing them to challenge your resolve and see if they can crack your thick skin. This dynamic creates a complex dance around you, where admiration and envy intertwine.
P.S. Even if you’re not Ketu dominant or a Mula native, please watch Claire Nakti’s, The “Final Girl” Astrological placement research video, you will definitely resonate. If you comment, tell them AriJackz from Tumblr sent you!
Okay bye, MUAH 💋
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✿ Pile Two (Knight of Pentacles, 2oS, Strength, 7oC (S?), The Star, Judgemental, Short, Melancholic, 4oP)
“HEART BEEN BROKE SO MANY TIIMMESSS
I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO BELIEVEEE
MAMA SAYS IT’S MY FAULLT, IT’S MY FAULLTTT
I WEAR MY HEART OF MY SLEEEEVVVEEEE!”
It’s not your fault, baby! Bitches are just greedy 🙄
This is straightforward, you’re a star! You have that undeniable je ne sais quoi, ¿Cómo se dice… “Everyone wants to be them” energy. As a multi-faceted individual, you possess countless layers that draw people in. Each aspect of your personality holds a unique appeal, making it so that there’s a piece of you that everyone desires. This captivating nature not only sets you apart but also invites beggars who benefit from being near your energy. 
You’re not consciously aware of this power and that’s what makes it great; it’s not manipulated or curated, you just are. In your younger years, you were like a fairy prancing around with a basket of love, giving away pieces of your heart to anyone who looked your way with sad little-kicked puppy eyes. 
However, the world is full of greedy hands that have no intention of giving as much as they receive. You were born with a heart of gold and encountered these all-consuming energies quite early in life, prompting you to spend your adolescence developing discernment and better judgment to avoid getting burned again. This journey has shaped you into someone who values authenticity and reciprocity, allowing you to navigate relationships with a keen awareness of what truly nurtures your spirit.
Even if you don’t feel you have anything explicitly special about you, everyone else sees that you do! In a world where many feel boring and unoriginal in their own skin, your vibrant energy can be a source of irritation for those who struggle with their own identity. Your unique shine serves as a reminder of what they lack, sparking feelings of envy or frustration.
Although, that doesn't mean they won’t play nice in your face while robbing you blind behind your back. You learned this the hard way. 
“There's an old saying in Tennessee — I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee — that says, fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again.” - George W. Bush
YOU DON’T PLAY. You hold your magic close to your chest and are very weary of possible leeches. This guardedness reflects your hard-won wisdom; you know how precious your energy is and are selective about who gets to share in it. THIS IS HYPNOTICCCC.
Your presence is exclusive; not just anyone gets to brush shoulders with you. This rarity makes people eager to be seen as special enough to get close to you. You have options—a variety of choices in friends, partners, lovers—and that selectivity only heightens the allure. People yearn to be among the few you hand-select to join your inner circle, hoping to share in your energy and insights. This creates a magnetic pull, as they aspire to earn a place in your life.
If you didn’t know this, I’m telling you now. Look back on your social interactions and the slick words said to you, probably people accusing you of thinking you’re the shit (you are), and you’ll see just how much of a star you are. 
P.S. Some of you are tiny little spitfires. I don’t think that’s important, but I felt inclined to mention it. If so, that adds to the allure. 5 foot nothing but your attitude is 10 feet tall.
Okay bye, MUAH 💋
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✿ Pile Three (Knight of Pentacles, 2oS, Strength, 7oC (S?), The Star, Judgemental, Short, Melancholic, 4oP)
You’re a storm, baby. I know I got some Adra natives in the cleerrb!
A few days ago, my 59-year-old neighbor and I were walking around the park, it was eerily quiet- no children were playing in the field and the trees were the stillest I had ever seen. Breaking the silence, she told me about a belief in ancient Hindu folklore that on days when the sky is framed in dark, dense clouds and the winds are still- not a single gust rustling the trees- the Earth is waiting with weighted breath for the outcome of a long-withstanding battle against good and evil.
She said that when I woke up the next morning, to check the news and see if a famous politician or some powerful person behind the scenes had died- thus being defeated. I checked; a few notable names had passed but the stand-out thing that happened was a vision I saw in a dream where an ex-friend sent me a letter in the mail admitting to some harmful actions I had growing suspicions about. This finally put my mind at ease and reaffirmed my gut intuition. 
I don’t know how to say this without sounding so… metaphorical/poetic, but you’re the person divine consciousness sends to represent the light’s grand victory. You are the embodiment of a prevailing soul. With all ten swords in your back, you’ll get up again and again. 
You’re not sent to the world as the Universe’s sparkling trophy because of luck; no, you’re highly regarded because you walked the same path, you’re no stranger to going to war and coming out with more than a few bumps and scrapes. 
This is not a flashy victory. Not like in the movies where you get ganged up on by bullies, pull out karate moves, whoop some ass, and come out looking like an underdog. This war consists of consecutive, painstaking setbacks and challenges slowly chipping away at your character, leaving behind a shell of a person for you to pick the pieces up and rebuild stronger. It’s a series of quiet battles fought within, where the scars aren’t always visible but the growth is profound. Every moment of doubt, every instance of perseverance, shapes you in ways that aren’t always glamorous but are deeply transformative.
You have scars that manifest as art, each one a mark of survival. Artistic souls look at you and see a single tree still standing after a hellish storm—roots deep in resilience, branches reaching for the light. Each scar is a testament to your journey, a story etched into your skin, reminding the world that even after the fiercest winds, life is reborn with greater tenacity to endure and thrive. 
You carry a thick atmosphere with you, whenever you’re coming the Earth seems to hold its breath to await you. You’re not abrasive or stand-offish, conversely, you’re quite soft, well-balanced, and can even be romantic at times. But that only emphasizes the sharp, heaviness of your presence. 
Yea, we all go through shit but do we all come out the other end with an open heart and willingness to live life optimistically? Fuck no 😭😭.
Somehow... you do and that’s hypnotic as fuck, my love! It’s like, hOW?! Even if people didn’t see the wars you fought, your backbone poses itself like a warrior’s. The way you carry yourself speaks volumes; it imprints on the minds of others far more than words ever could. Your presence is magnetic, a silent testament to your strength and resilience. Talking is just the bare bones of communication; it’s your spirit, your aura, that truly captivates. 
LMAO you’re the type to say less than five words to someone and they’re running back to their friends telling them you’re different from everyone else.
P.S. Your key to bagging anyone you want is your eyes, learn to flirt with your eyes. 
Okay bye, MUAH 💋
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✿ Pile Four (The Emperor, Ace of Wands, 3oS, Judgement, The Fool, courageous, Spiritual, Observant, Self-assured, Thirsty, Aimless)
Hmmm, you’re a playboy, stay far away from my easily attached heart, DEMON 🫵.
I’M PLAYING. But for real, you knew the answer to this question before you chose the pile LMFAO.
You’re just plain sexy! That’s it! You’re vivacious and a smooth talker; you like to razzle dazzle your way into people’s minds where your imprint overstays its welcome, making them sick with their lack of permanent access to you.
You’re a social butterfly, flying from person to person, pollinating them with the attention they yearn for, and then flying off to the next adventure, leaving them dizzy with the need to catch and keep you in a cutely decorated mason jar with poked holes up top. Of course, this would kill you, so stay how you are, beautiful!
This might be a bit explicit, but you have a unique way of stirring people’s desires. You don’t need to be overtly sexual; it’s your rare lack of fear of rejection that draws people in. At least, that’s how others see it. In a social world laced with fear, you seem to have an optimistic mentality where, “Every shot you don’t take, you miss.” So you are one of the few humans who aren’t riddled with worries about how you’re perceived and people’s judgments of your character. What is rare is wildly hypnotic.
People thirst over you, like foaming-at-the-mouth rabid dog ARFF ARFF BARK BARK type of thirst… in silence. You are actually way too intimidating to approach. Male or female, socially, people perceive you as high quality and assume you get a lot of attention that the everyday person can not compete with, so they only daydream from afar. 
You’re arm candy. Throughout writing this I pictured famous videos of celebrities like Angelina Jolie, Jhene Aiko, and Chris Evans seducing and unnerving the interviewer through subtle actions. Like the other piles, your aura is the dominant communicator and it doesn’t take much for you to get a mf barking. 
People fear you’ll break their hearts, but funnily enough, you’ve entertained one or two losers in the past and left relationships with a few scars and stories you have to sniffle through to tell. But that’s okay; those experiences teach us how to discern who deserves to be in our lives and who doesn’t. You only let them in because you try not to discriminate, and truly just have a deep passion for connection with anyone and everyone you encounter. Never change, you’re the flame the rest of us moths flock to.
P.S. Discernment and trusting your judgment is a lifelong study; don’t beat yourself if someone who you thought had your best interest at heart, doesn’t in reality. Count that towards your research, dust yourself off, and try again. You’re too brave to let a liar stop your ability to enjoy human company. 
Okay bye, MUAH 💋
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moonstruckme · 2 months ago
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remus x touch starved! reader ❤
i want him to hug me so badly 😭
<3
Me toooooooo! Unsure if this was a request but thanks for sending and potentially for requesting haha <3
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 707 words
Remus’ foot is touching yours. It’s incidental, thoughtless. You’re sitting on opposite sides of the couch, facing each other as you both read your books, only you’re not reading anymore because all of your attention has been stolen by the way your boyfriend’s foot is lightly pressing yours into the back cushion. The slightness of the contact, the smallness of it, it isn’t nearly enough, and yet you don’t think you could take any more. 
The other side of the couch seems a thousand miles away. 
“You alright?” Remus asks. You look up to find him studying you over the top of his book. 
“Mhm. Why?” 
“You just seem like you might be cold.” You look at him bemusedly, and he nods to the blanket around your shoulders. “You’ve wrapped yourself up fairly tightly there.” 
You look down. You’re holding the blanket closed with a near vice-like grip, cocooning yourself in warm snugness. 
“Oh.” You ease your grasp on it. “Sorry, I didn’t even notice.” 
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Remus replies easily, sitting forward and clasping a hand around your ankle. “Should I go turn the heater up?” 
Every nerve in your being has directed its attention to your ankle, your boyfriend’s fingers braceleting it loosely, casually. One finger moving slowly up and down as though to placate you. Your chest aches terribly. 
Some of it must show on your face, because Remus frowns. “What is it?” 
“What?” 
“You look upset.” He leans forward, his touch coasting up to your knee. His frown deepens. “Sweetheart, what's wrong?” 
“Nothing.” You close your eyes, feeling silly. Shake your head. “Sorry, nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“It’s really stupid.” 
Remus shushes you admonishingly. “I doubt that. Will you tell me?” 
“It’s just…” You push out a breath, not quite able to look at him. “It is, it’s silly. I feel like I miss you, but you’re right here.” 
Remus gives you a contemplative look, his lips downturnt. You almost want to laugh just so he’ll take you less seriously. You feel far too exposed. 
“That doesn’t sound silly,” he says after a moment. “I think…I know what you mean, sometimes. Maybe there’s something we’re missing.” 
“Like what?” you ask helplessly. 
He considers you. “Could we have a hug?”  
Now you do laugh. “Yeah,” you say, though you don’t move. “Of course, whenever you want.” 
“Whenever you want, too,” Remus reminds you. He takes the initiative, setting his book down and moving across the couch toward you. 
His arms come around you almost tentatively, one hand moving across your back while the other settles itself between your shoulder blades. You give a little shiver at the contact, and he strengthens his hold, your own fingers bunching in the material of his jumper. That ache in your chest begins to feel like a sort of fracturing. 
“I might cry,” you warn him wobbily. “Don’t worry about it.” 
Remus’ surprised chuckle jostles the first couple of tears out of you. “Oh, sweetheart.” He palms the back of your head. “I’ll try not to, but are you sure you’re alright?” 
“Yeah.” You clutch him tightly. “This helps.” 
“Okay,” he says softly. 
Remus lets you cry it out. He holds you, shuffles closer on the couch, presses his lips to the top of your head. When you’re done and you pull away to press a salty kiss to the corner of his lips, he picks up your fallen blanket and draws it around the both of you. 
Your legs are all tangled together, bent knees and coarse hairs and the jut of an ankle bone into your hip. Remus looks into your eyes with a steady fondness. 
“Do you feel any better?” he asks. 
“Yeah,” you answer honestly. “Sorry, thank you.” 
“Why are you always sorry?” There’s a bit of teasing in his voice now, softened by the brush of his lips against your nose. “You can always ask for hugs, you know. You should.” 
“Okay.” 
“I want you to.” 
“Okay.” Your face feels warm, but you feel a thousand times lighter. “I will.” 
“Good.” He gives you a little smile. “Can we do another now?” 
“Remus,” you smile back at him, “I’m really fine.” 
“I believe you. This one’s for me.”
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bluebeads-art · 2 months ago
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2024 September 23rd
Okay so. I kept seeing drawings of Siffrin in iconic Sonic the Hedgehog poses for some godforsaken reason? And like, I was a HUGE Sonic nerd as a teenager. Absolutely obsessed. You can't do this to me. As soon as I thought, "Isabeau would fit Knuckles' poses," and "Mirabelle can be Amy Rose!" it was all over. I had to join the funny art trend.
I'd already seen drawings of the really iconic Sonic Adventure poses, so I decided to go with Sonic Advance 3 poses instead. They might not be as recognizable, but as someone who loved SA3, they're iconic to me. And I'm the artist here, the only people who matter are me and my inner child LMAO.
Pose references and more rambling under the cut
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^ Character select pixel art from Sonic Advance 3.
I wanted to just go with the flow for this drawing and not worry about style or anatomy as much. No thoughts, head empty, only vibes. It turned into a really fun abomination of my casual art style, ISaT style, and decade-old Sonic-drawing muscle memory. I miss Siffrin's cloak fuzzies though, but Sonic art styles are just so smooth and clean and I couldn't find a way to get them to mesh well.
Time taken was 20 hours and 10 minutes, because I don't know how doodling works.
Isabeau took a fraction of the time Siffrin and especially Mira did. Amy's pose is not meant for human arms. I left behind a graveyard of failed hand poses. Meanwhile Siffrin was rough because of their friggin cloak making the pose hard to read, but I figured it out!
I'm still new to writing screen reader alt text, and I have no idea if I'm going overboard or not, lol. 291-word description essay GO!
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myriam-draws · 1 year ago
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some starfires i’ve drawn a bit over time i miss her (i refuse to read titans 2023)
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aliyahwritings · 27 days ago
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THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (04)
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MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader
Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.
Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.
Word Count: 6.4k
Aliyah's Notes: i'll say it again, but specifically this chapter depicts heavy body image and ed descriptions + vomit so i beg of you to skip the beginning if you're uncomfortable with that. besides that, the chapter is cute and full of rafe and reader moments
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No, no, no, no, no…
The air in the cramped bathroom felt stifling, its walls pressing close as if they could hear every breath slipping through your lips. Your phone screen glared up at you, the message burning into your mind, twisting your insides. It felt like a rope tightening around your chest, the words somehow dragging you thousands of miles back to a place you fought so hard to escape.
It was just a text. Just words. But your body reacted as if you’ve been thrown into an ice-cold river, your mind spiraling as your heartbeat thumped in your ears, louder and louder, drowning out all your sense of reason. You weren’t supposed to feel this way—not here, not anymore. You fought too hard to let a few words send you back to that place.
The text was simple, it read: "Hey, do you remember me? Just to let you know we're coming to the U.S. in a few weeks."
Your fingers, knuckles white, tightened around the phone as you tried to calm yourself. You had come so far, broken so many boundaries to make it, to have a life that was your own, that you chose. And now? Now your world felt as fragile as glass, your strength chipped away by something as simple as a message.
For years, you pushed that life aside, buried it beneath layers of success and glossy magazine covers, of flashing cameras and compliments that felt like armor. You learned to smile, to keep your chin up, to say what people wanted to hear. Y/N Y/L/N, the golden girl, they’d call you, the one with the perfect life, the charmed career. They didn’t see the cracks beneath, the memories you pushed so far down you could almost believe they’d never existed.
You missed them, sometimes. In quiet moments, when you let yourself think of them, you felt the familiar pang of loss. But you missed them on your own terms, and never to this point—never to the point of feeling that old, oppressive weight. The suffocating sense of having your every move watched, every thought scrutinized and molded into someone else’s idea of perfection. You’d broken free of those chains. Or at least you thought you had.
Your breath hitched as a tear slipped down your cheek, cold against your heated skin. You quickly wiped it away, but another followed, then another, until you were gripping the edge of the sink, trying desperately to hold yourself together. “You’re okay,” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely a breath. “You’re fine. Suck it up, come on.”
The words felt hollow, but you forced yourself to repeat them, steadying your breathing as you stared at your reflection. The woman looking back at you wasn’t the helpless girl from your past; she was someone stronger, someone who’d fought for every inch of her success. But as you brushed away the tears, you wondered just how deep those old wounds ran.
Another shaky breath, another splash of cold water. You didn’t have time for this. Not here, not today. There was a shoot waiting, people depending on you to be the flawless professional you always were. You could fall apart later. That would have to be enough.
Drawing yourself up, you checked your reflection one last time, wiping away any trace of emotion from your face. Your fingers still trembled, but you forced them to steady, exhaling one last time before stepping out of the bathroom, your shoulders set with the poise you spent years perfecting.
As you walked back into the studio, the lights blinded you momentarily, the heat from the set lights prickling against your skin. The room buzzed with activity—assistants darting back and forth, stylists fussing over racks of clothing, and the low hum of the photographer’s voice directing the scene. You slipped back into your role, letting the familiar rhythm carry your as you took your place on set.
“Finally,” the photographer muttered, barely looking up from his camera. “We’re on a schedule, Y/N. I don’t have time for dramatics.” His voice was cold, clipped, as though your presence was nothing more than an inconvenience.
You clenched your jaw, brushing off the comment. Just keep your head down, and keep moving. You struck your first pose, forcing yourself to focus on the rhythm of the camera’s clicks. Each flash, each snap, pulled you farther away from your thoughts, grounding you in the present. You knew this world, knew how to inhabit the perfect persona they wanted from you. You could do this.
“Okay, chin down,” the photographer barked, barely glancing up from his lens. “More. More—there, but tighten up your core, Y/N. It’s looking a little… fat.”
The comment hit you like a slap, the faint tremble returning to your hands. You adjusted your pose, forcing yourself to stay calm. You've heard comments like this before. Your body was scrutinized in ways most people couldn’t understand, your curves debated and dissected like they belonged to someone else. You have been trained to brush it off, to smile and push through it with the poise they expected of you.
But today, after everything, the words dug a little deeper.
The photographer snapped another shot, then lowered his camera, looking you up and down with a critical eye. “You’re slipping, Y/N. You used to be skinnier. Are you having those episodes again?” He cocked an eyebrow, his tone dripping with condescension. “If you’re going to stay at the top, you have to stop whatever it is you’re doing that’s triggering you. That means discipline, diet, focus. Do you have that? Or am I wasting my time here?”
You bit down on the inside of your cheek, the words stinging sharper than you wanted to admit. You knew you gained a little weight—nothing drastic, nothing worth commenting on, but in your world, even a fraction of a change was enough to invite scrutiny. You forced yourself to hold your pose, to keep the practiced smile on your face, even as your heart pounded in your chest.
“No,” you said quietly, your voice steady but clipped. “You’re not wasting your time—I understand. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good,” he said, turning his attention back to his camera. “Because the camera doesn’t lie, Y/N. Either shape up, or Chanel will find someone who will.”
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The ride home was a blur, the city lights streaking past the window as you sat, rigid, in the back seat of the car. Your stomach twisted painfully, a churning knot of anger, shame, and something that felt dangerously close to despair. Each time you closed your eyes, the photographer’s words replayed like a cruel loop in your mind, mocking you, unraveling every shred of confidence you’d managed to build. You’re slipping… used to be skinner…discipline, diet, focus. His voice echoed with the ghost of memories you’d focus so hard to bury.
You barely noticed when the car finally stopped. As soon as you stepped out, the familiar ache in your chest intensified, the weight of everything pressing down, suffocating. You fumbled with your keys, barely able to keep your hands steady long enough to unlock the door. Once inside, you kicked off your shoes, not even caring where they landed, and stumbled over to the couch. Every nerve in your body screamed, the urge clawing at you with a ferocity that was both frightening and familiar.
You sat there, breathing heavily, your fingers digging into the fabric of the couch as you fought to steady yourself. But the memories kept coming, one after another, tearing at you until it felt like you were drowning in them. You saw yourself, younger, lost, staring into the mirror late at night, desperate to feel in control of something—anything. The hunger, the self-loathing, the endless cycle of guilt and relief—it all rushed back with a force that stole the breath from your lungs.
It would be so easy to give in, a voice whispered in the back of your mind. Just this once. Just for tonight. You could have the relief you craved, the escape from the pressure that felt like it was suffocating you from the inside out.
No, you told yourself, clenching your fists. You’re stronger than this.
But the temptation was too strong, too insistent, and before you even realized what you were doing, you found yourself in the kitchen, stuffing your face with whatever you could find. You just needed to eat, eat, eat, and eat more. You blinked and found yourself in the bathroom, hands braced against the sink as you stared into the mirror, a tear-streaked, desperate face staring back at you. Your chest tightened as the shame washed over you, the familiar ache settling deep in your bones, dragging you down into the darkness you’d spent years trying to escape.
Your fingers brushed your throat, trembling as you fought against the impulse. You didn’t want this, not really. You knew the pain that would follow, the emptiness that would settle in your chest like a lead weight, crushing you from the inside out. But the need for control, the need for release, was stronger than you were.
As if in a trance, you gave in, the guilt and shame numbing your mind as you went through the motions, each step mechanical, devoid of thought. The feeling of release came in a rush, bringing a momentary sense of relief that quickly dissolved into nausea and self-loathing. You sank to the floor, gasping for breath, your entire body trembling as the full weight of what you’d done settled over you.
The bathroom floor was cold against your skin, grounding you in the present even as your mind spiraled, tangled in a haze of guilt and despair. You pressed your forehead to your knees, the tears coming fast and hot, unstoppable. Your chest heaved with silent sobs, each one cutting deeper than the last as you choked on the bitter taste of regret. The walls seemed to close in around you, trapping you in a prison of your own making, a prison you’d vowed to escape but somehow couldn’t.
You thought you were done with this, that you’d left this part of yourself behind. But here you were, broken and hollow, the fragile pieces of your self-control shattered beyond repair. You wanted to scream, to tear at your own skin, to do anything that would make the pain stop, even for just a moment.
“Why am I like this?” you whispered, the words barely audible through your tears. 
When the tears finally slowed, you felt hollow, emptied, the relief you’d hoped for replaced by a numbness that was somehow worse. You pulled yourself up, the motion slow and heavy, as though your limbs were weighed down by the shame you carried. You splashed water on your face, watching as the streaks of mascara and foundation washed away, leaving you bare and exposed, a shadow of the person you pretended to be.
Stumbling back into the living room, you sank onto the couch, the silence of the apartment pressing in around you, thick and suffocating. Your stomach ached, a dull throb that echoed the ache in your chest, a reminder of everything you’d tried to forget. You leaned back, closing your eyes, your fingers still trembling.
The silence was shattered by the faint buzz of your phone, the sound jarring in the quiet. You opened your eyes, feeling a fresh wave of dread as you reached for it, already bracing yourself for more bad news. The screen showed a message from Rafe, sent twenty minutes ago.
Rafe: “Hey. On my way over. Be ready. We’re going out.”
Your heart skipped a beat, panic flaring in your chest as you processed the words. Rafe was coming here. He’d be here any minute, expecting you to be ready, expecting you to be fine. But you were anything but fine. The thought of facing him, of pretending everything was normal, felt like an impossible task.
You wanted to ignore it, to curl up on the couch and let the world fade away. But you knew you couldn’t. He’d see through you, he’d ask questions, and you weren’t ready for that. You weren’t ready for him to see the broken pieces.
Taking a shaky breath, you sat up, wiping the last traces of tears from your face. You couldn’t fall apart now. You’d have to pull yourself together, put on the mask he expected to see. 
But as you stared at the screen, the weight of what you’d done settled over you, a cold, crushing ache that threatened to drown you all over again.
A sharp knock broke the silence, the sound slicing through the thick air of your apartment. You jolted, your heart racing as you looked toward the door.
Fuck! You hadn’t even had time to fully compose yourself. 
Another knock, lighten this time, followed by his familiar voice. “Come on, open up, sweetheart,” Rafe called out, his tone easy, teasing. He was here. Of course he was here. 
Forcing a deep breath, you pushed yourself up from the couch, running your hands through your hair in a last-minute attempt to look put-together. You brushed a hand over your face, trying to erase any trace of what had happened, then ran to close the door of your kitchen to hide the mess of food sprawled everywhere.
The moment you opened the door, Rafe’s eyes locked onto yours, his playful smile faltering as he took you in. The lightness in his gaze shifted, softening with a concern that made your chest tighten. You could feel his eyes sweeping over your face, catching the lingering redness around your eyes, the slight shake in your hands and naked legs, the way you wouldn’t quite meet this gaze.
“You…” he said, stepping forward as his brow furrowed. “You okay?”
You forced a smile, dismissive, brushing it off as though he hadn’t seen what he had. “I’m fine, Cameron. Just a long day, you know,” you replied, your voice steady but rough, your fingers clutching the edge of the door.
He didn’t move, his gaze unwavering as he studied you, his expression laced with worry. “Are you sure?” he asked softly, his voice careful now. “You don’t look fine. Your eyes…”
“I said I’m fine, Rafe!” you snapped, the words sharper than you’d intended, the force of them surprising you both. His brows shot up slightly, but he didn’t move, his gaze locked on yours as though he were searching for something beneath the anger. 
“I’m just asking, but something’s obviously wrong. You don’t have to—”
“Why do you care?” you interrupted, your voice edged with a defensiveness you couldn’t control. “It’s none of your business, alright,” Your hands tightened into fists at your sides, the sting of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you willed them back, pressing down the wave of emotion threatening to rise again. “I told you, I’m fine. Just drop it.”
The silence stretched between you, tense, your words hanging in the air like a challenge. You could see the hurt flash across his face, fleeting but unmistakable, before it softened into something closer to understanding, something that only made you feel more exposed.
“Alright,” he murmured, his tone calm, measured. He took a step back, lifting his hands slightly in surrender, his gaze lingering on you, patient, waiting. “If you say so.”
But you could see it in his eyes—he didn’t believe you, not for a second.
You stepped back, allowing him to come inside. He moved past you slowly, his gaze flicking back to you once before staying put. You headed toward the living room, and he followed you, swallowing the lingering shame in your throat as you focused on steadying your breath.
He paused near the couch, glancing around the room as though searching for a sign of what had shaken you.
“Alright, so… where exactly are we going?” you asked, aiming to keep your tone casual. Your gaze dropped to your hands, hoping to mask the slight tremor of your nerves.
Rafe glanced over, he seemed to take a moment to consider his answer, studying you as though choosing his words carefully. “One of my friends is hosting a little get-together…”
“Topper?” 
“Hell nah!” He quietly laughed, shaking his head. “Not this time. It’s Kelce. He throws these gatherings sometimes—more chill than anything else. It’s just a handful of people, around a dozen or so, max. You think you’ll be okay with that?”
His gaze lingered on you, a mix of playfulness and genuine concern softening his features. You swallowed, nodding as you offered a small shrug. “Yeah, sure. That’s fine. So… just friends? Are there going to be, um… other girls?”
He tilted his head. “Yeah, some. Kiara and Cleo are usually around for these things, and…” he paused, scratching his jaw before continuing, “my sister.”
That made you look up, your curiosity piqued. “You have a sister?”
“Two actually, both younger,” he replied with a faint smile. “But only one’s coming tonight. Sarah. I think she’s around your age. You’ll probably like her. She’s… got a bit of a wild streak.”
You nodded and stayed quiet for a moment, lost in thought, before glancing back at Rafe. “So… I’ll just go get ready—wait! How should I dress up? Is it a casual-casual or a casual-but-nicely-dressed type of gathering?”
Rafe’s lips quirked into a smile, visibly relieved to see you bouncing back to your usual self. “Pretty sure, whatever you wear, you’ll make it look elegant, sweetheart.”
“That’s not helpful—but thanks.” You arched a brow at him, waiting.
"Just something simple," he replied with a shrug, leaning back on the couch. His eyes traveled over you, taking in your outfit—a pair of black shorts paired with an oversized, ripped T-shirt splashed with images of Barbie. Somehow, even in that, you looked hot, and he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger.
“Simple?” You tilted your head thoughtfully. “Like…a dress? Wait, maybe a skirt is better for this. But a dress is more of a party vibe…” you started muttering to yourself, lost in wardrobe decisions. “Should I wear something with prints? Oh, wait—”
“Just wear a skirt, baby,” he cut in smoothly, his gaze softening as he watched you.
That one little word—baby—made your heart flutter and stopped your train of thought cold. You caught his eyes, trying to ignore the sudden swarm of butterflies, and arched a brow at him with a teasing smirk. “Oh, I see what this is. You just want an excuse to look at my ass. Bet you’re hoping for a little peek under my skirt, huh, you perv?”
Rafe’s smirk grew, and he sat up, his blue eyes gleaming with something undeniably mischievous. “I’ll see your ass at some point during this marriage, whether it’s tonight or some other night,” he replied, his gaze unwavering. “Got you speechless now, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, pretending his words hadn’t just lit a spark that was still buzzing beneath your skin. “No, actually, I was just thinking of all the ways I could strangle you.”
“Kinky,” he teased, eyes alight with amusement.
You groaned, chuckling despite yourself. “Not like that, you perv.” You waved your hand dismissively, shaking your head. “Enough of this. I’m gonna go get ready.”
Before you turned, he grinned and made a move to get up. “Can I come and watch the show?”
You placed a firm hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down with a laugh. “Absolutely not. Stay here and be patient. I won’t be long.”
Rafe relaxed, settling back with a smirk as he watched you disappear into your bedroom, and you made sure to close the door firmly behind you.
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You emerge from the bedroom an hour later, dressed in a strapless leopard-print tube top that clings to your figure just right, paired with a faded denim mini-skirt. For makeup, you opted for a natural look with a subtle glow, focusing on your lips, and you left your curls loose, letting them fall naturally over your shoulders, once again. 
You walked into the hallway, slipping on your black Louboutin stilettos. As you straightened, you didn’t need to look back to know Rafe was right there, his presence a steady hum in the quiet of your apartment. You’d heard his soft footsteps the second you stepped into the hallway.
"You—"
"Watch what you’re about to say, Cameron," you cut him off, throwing a teasing glance over your shoulder, "because if it’s about my ass, I’ll slap you so hard you’ll fly out the window."
His smirk widened. "Now, I wasn’t gonna say anything like that," He let his gaze travel up and down your figure, lingering on the way your fitted mini skirt hugged your curves. "But since you brought it up—yeah, it’s the perfect opportunity to take a peek. Especially with you bent over and all."
You straightened up, narrowing your eyes at him, though a faint smile tugged at your lips. "Rafe."
He raised his hands, palms out. "Alright, alright—my bad." He let his eyes travel over you one more time, this time slower, more appreciative. "But you look nice."
"Just nice?" you teased, tilting your head slightly as you stepped closer, noting the way his eyes darkened as he drank you in.
"No..." His voice dropped, his eyes turning hungry as they lingered on you. "You look hot. Really hot."
You felt a satisfied smile spread across your face. "Perfect. That’s exactly what I was going for."
"Well, you succeeded, sweetheart," he replied, voice thick with an admiration that felt too close for comfort.
You smiled, pushing down the heat rising to your cheeks, and made your way to the door, pulling it open. Rafe followed close behind, stepping into the hallway as you both moved toward the elevator.
"So," you asked as you pressed the elevator button, "do your friends know about the arrangement, or…?"
Rafe shook his head, popping the 'P' as he answered, "Nope. None of them have a clue. Not my teammates, not my sister—nobody. So you’re gonna have to pretend to tolerate me for a few hours. Think you can handle that?"
You tilted your head, your smile turning sly. "Tolerate you? For a few hours? I mean, it’s gonna be a challenge, but I think I can manage.”
“Is that so? Gonna be that hard to put up with me?”
“I wasn’t gonna say anything, in fear to hurt your poor feelings but you are extremely annoying and hard to put up with, Rafe Cameron,” you shot back, your eyes sparkling.
“Ouch,” he touched his heart and mocked a pained expression. “You’re hurting your husband’s feelings here, sweetheart.”
“Future husband,” you corrected with a smirk. “And, womp womp!”
The elevator reached the lobby, and the two of you stepped out, making your way toward the exit. Rafe opened the door for you, his hand resting briefly on the small of your back, sending a shiver up your spine.
Outside, his car was waiting, sleek and polished under the streetlights. He held the passenger door open, and you slipped inside, watching as he rounded the front and got in beside you.
The car ride was quieter than you expected. He seemed content, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting casually near the gearshift. You stole a few glances at him as he drove, catching the glint in his eye as he noticed you looking.
Finally, he spoke up. "You know, if you’re gonna be my girlfriend for the night, you’ll have to act the part."
"What do you mean?"
He smirked, shifting gears smoothly as he turned onto a quieter road. “Maybe try not to glare at me every time I look at you. Oh, and try smiling, or I don’t know, pretend like you don’t find me annoying.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. "Noted. You have some more notes, Mr. Cameron?"
“I do, actually, future Ms. Cameron,” he said, glancing at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “As my girlfriend, you should probably let me put my arm around, or even hold my hand if we’re getting really freaky.”
You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. “Oh, yeah ‘cause touching your hand will make me nut, right?”
He chuckled, glancing over you, his expression full of amusement. “I mean, that’s usually how most people feel—but more seriously, we need to make this believable. The whole world has to think we’re in love.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "And here I thought this was a marriage of convenience. You know, strictly business. But since we’re giving notes then I think you should show a little more enthusiasm."
He chuckled, shaking his head as he navigated the streets. "Alright, I can do enthusiasm. How about I serenade you while I drive?"
"Oh my God! Please don’t," you laughed, shaking your head. "I’d like to keep my hearing intact."
"Suit yourself." Rafe grinned, glancing at you with a mock-seriousness. "But if I can’t sing, then I have to hold your hand. That’s the rule."
You hesitated, your heart racing at the idea of intertwining his fingers with yours. “Fine…”
He raised his hand triumphantly, a playful smirk plastered across his face. "See? You’re already getting into the spirit of things. Besides, it’s not like our lips haven’t touched—"
“Rafe!” you exclaimed, slapping his chest with a mix of disbelief and embarrassment.
“What? I’m just stating the truth,” he said, feigning innocence as he rubbed his chest, an exaggerated pout forming on his lips. “Come on, don’t get shy on me now, baby.”
“I am not shy,” you retorted, unable to suppress a smile.
“Right, and I’m the bloody king of England,” he shot back with a horrible fake British accent.
“Shut up,” you laughed, the sound echoing softly in the quiet of the car as you shook your head at his antics.
The banter hung in the air between you like a playful thread. You both lapsed into a comfortable silence, the gentle hum of the engine and the occasional rush of wind outside the car providing a soothing backdrop. As the minutes passed, anticipation buzzed in the air, making each second feel charged with excitement.
Finally, you pulled up in front of a large, ornate gate guarded by stern-looking security personnel. Rafe, unable to contain himself, leaned forward and called out his name with exaggerated bravado, “Rafe Cameron!” The gates swung open, revealing a huge house with lights everywhere.
As he parked the car, you took a moment to steady your breathing, inhaling deeply to calm the flutter of nerves in your stomach. With a final exhale, you opened the door and stepped out onto the pavement. Before you stood three familiar faces, their expressions a mix of anticipation and curiosity as they waited at the door of the house. 
You glanced at Rafe, who had just stepped out to join you, his presence exuding a quiet confidence that somehow eased your tension. The way he stood beside you, relaxed yet alert, made you feel a little more at ease.
“Am I dreaming, or are there three people waiting for us—and they’re jumping?” you asked, barely able to contain your laughter as you watched the trio bouncing in place, their enthusiasm infectious.
Rafe chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “You’re not dreaming. The idiots over there are my sister, JJ, and Topper.”
“Oh, I know Topper!” you exclaimed, a spark of excitement igniting in your voice. The prospect of recognizing someone made the moment feel a bit more comfortable.
“Yeah, you do, sweetheart,” Rafe replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes glinted with warmth.
As you approached the animated group, the sounds of their laughter filled the air, creating a vibrant atmosphere that made your heart race with anticipation. Rafe walked beside you.
Topper was the first to spot you, his face lighting up with a broad grin as he waved. “Love birds! Over here!” he shouted, bouncing on his feet, you could tell he was slightly tipsy already.
JJ turned at the sound of his voice, his expression shifting from casual to surprise when he caught sight of you two. “What the fuck? Rafe is here with a girl—isn’t that—”
“That’s Y/N! What the actual fuck, Rafe?” Sarah exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief as she slapped JJ’s chest, the surprise evident in her wide eyes.
As you stepped into view, the weight of their stares sent a wave of nerves crashing over you, and suddenly, the words you’d rehearsed vanished from your mind. It was ridiculous—usually, you were the life of the party, friendly and extroverted. Why were you feeling so overwhelmed now?
“Hi,” you managed to say, cringing at the awkwardness of it. A rush of heat crept up your neck as you mentally kicked yourself for being so inarticulate.
“Hi, pretty girl,” JJ chimed, his grin infectious. “Now that Y/N and her boyfriend have arrived, the party can officially start!” He turned and bolted into the house with an enthusiastic shout, followed closely by Topper, leaving you alone with the Cameron siblings.
Turning your attention back to Sarah, you took a moment to admire her outfit—a stunning black leather dress that hugged her curves perfectly, her makeup expertly applied to accentuate her striking features. She radiated confidence.
“I’ve seen stuff about you two on social media, but I didn’t expect you to actually bring her here—respectfully, of course,” Sarah said, her gaze flicking to you as she finished her sentence and you simply shrugged. “This is a first for you, Rafe,” she continued, raising an eyebrow at her brother.
“I’m serious about her, so get ready to see her everywhere by my side,” Rafe replied casually, but the warmth of his words sent your cheeks aflame. “Are you the only girl here—”
“I love your dress, by the way. I don’t know if I said that already ‘cause I’m pretty tipsy, but I love it. Leopard prints suit you so well! Every time you wear animal prints on the runway, I’m always so in love with how it fits you. Oh, and I heard you’re working with Chanel right now—is that true? You can tell me; I promise I won’t spill. Plus, I’ll probably forget about it by tomorrow anyway—”
Rafe, clearly exasperated, swiftly placed a hand over her mouth. “Don’t say weird shit like that, stalker. You’re creeping my girlfriend out.”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, placing a hand on Rafe’s shoulder. “No, it’s fine.”
“You sure? Because she really sounded like a fucking creep,” he said, feigning seriousness, but you could see the hint of amusement in his eyes.
“Guess that runs in the family,” you teased, lifting yourself on your tiptoes to lean closer and whisper in Rafe’s ear, the warmth of his body radiating against you. “But thank you, Sarah. I was going to say the same about you and your dress. It fits your body like crazy; I’m honestly jealous.”
“Girl, please. Have you seen yourself?” she scoffed, her confidence shining through.
“I have, but have you seen yourself? You’re stunning, like a goddess.”
“Oh my God—”
“Alright, enough with the glazing,” Rafe interrupted, a mock-seriousness creeping into his tone. Sarah shot him an annoyed glare, which you mirrored, both of you momentarily united in your frustration. “I introduced her to you, but there are other people who don’t know she’s here, so get out of the way, Sarah.”
With that, he gently nudged her aside, his protective demeanor hinting at how much he cared, even amidst the playful banter. You couldn’t help but smile at the way he navigated the room with ease, leading you into the chaos of the party.
The room was awash in vibrant colors, illuminated by twinkling lights strung overhead. A long table was set up against one wall, laden with an enticing spread of snacks and alcoholic drinks that sparkled enticingly under the glow. The atmosphere buzzed with energy; laughter and music melded together in a lively symphony. Groups of people swayed on the dance floor, while others engaged in animated conversations or indulged in the delicious food. Rafe was right—though the crowd wasn’t particularly large, the energy was palpable, and the music was loud enough to make your heart race.
You gently tapped Rafe’s arm to get his attention, and he leaned down slightly to hear you over the din. “We’re not gonna go to each person to introduce myself, are we?” 
“Hell no! Just my close friends—” he started, but his words were cut off as someone unexpectedly leapt into his arms, wrapping their limbs around his neck with abandon. Rafe staggered slightly, instinctively holding the person tight to steady them both. Your brows knitted together in confusion and irritation as you wondered who would be so brazen as to interrupt a conversation. The person had clearly come from the front, meaning they’d seen you two talking moments before.
Fucking prick, you cursed internally at the bold interloper.
When the person turned around, you found yourself face-to-face with a woman who had long, straight brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Her cheerful smile faltered briefly upon noticing you, but it returned almost instantly, though you could sense the shift in her demeanor.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry for coming in like that,” she shouted over the thumping bass, her voice bright and exuberant. “I was just so excited to see Rafey. I couldn’t contain my joy.”
You waved your hands dismissively, plastering on a friendly smile, trying to keep the peace. “It’s totally fine, don’t worry. I get it.”
“I’m Chiara, by the way. Chiara Romano,” she introduced herself, extending a hand for you to shake. You accepted, noting the warmth of her grip.
“That’s a pretty name,” you said sincerely, your tone genuine. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”
“The supermodel who fled from her country, right?” Chiara asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
You scratched your cheek, a touch of embarrassment creeping in. “Well, not exactly, but yeah… that’s me.”
“Well, nice to meet you, Y/N,” she said with a bright smile before turning her attention back to Rafe, suddenly snatching his arm and tugging at him playfully. “Come with me, Rafey.”
Rafe, who had been uncharacteristically silent during the exchange, finally spoke, his tone firm. “Wait! No, Chiara.”
“Why? It’s gonna be fun—” she retorted, but Rafe’s tone shifted to a more serious note.
“I’m here with Y/N,” he said firmly, the protectiveness in his voice undeniable. Chiara halted her playful tugging, her expression shifting as she turned her full attention to you. “She’s my girlfriend.”
“Oh…” she said, her brows raised in surprise as she studied you intently. “Are you two serious, or not?”
You frowned, taken aback by the bluntness of her question. You knew Rafe had a reputation for jumping from one woman to the next, but he had just referred to you as his girlfriend with such conviction. That had to mean something, right? You couldn’t help but wonder what Chiara would have done if you had said no.
“We’re se—” you started, but your voice faltered.
“I want him to say it,” Chiara interrupted, a challenging glint in her eye as she turned to Rafe. “Say that you two are serious, Rafe.”
The air grew thick with anticipation as you awaited his response. The weight of the moment felt significant; this wasn’t just a casual interaction—it was a test of the fragile foundation of your arrangement. Rafe’s eyes darted between you and Chiara, a mix of uncertainty and determination swirling in them. You held your breath, knowing that you needed him to affirm the seriousness of your relationship, even if it was just for show. Rafe couldn’t afford to slip up, not when so much was at stake. You watched him struggle with the words, a silent plea hanging in the air as he held Chiara’s gaze, and you braced yourself for what would come next.
Who the fuck was Chiara Romano to Rafe Cameron?
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chapter five
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laiiaaa · 1 year ago
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trying to go to bed mad at Carmen but he’s just not having it LMFAO i just love him with a grumpy gf :(((
You’d like to blame him for it, just because he was short with you this morning. Stressed about a food critic coming to The Bear this weekend, he’s been on edge, losing sleep, and this morning was just one of those days it was getting to him: dodging your affection, hurrying out of bed, disjointed conversations he doesn’t try too hard to be a part of.
It’s not entirely his fault, and you know this, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less, to be put to the side for even a day to make room for that colder edge to him when he gets zoned in.
So you give yourself the liberty to be a little bit shitty, too, just for the night.
You don’t greet him like you usually do, with a deep kiss hello and your hands squeezing at his sore muscles, offering to massage the knots in his shoulders. Instead you sit on the couch reading your book and offer him a fleeting glance. He pauses at the difference, but carries on.
You wait until long after he’s showered to get up. He even pops back into the living room beforehand, shorts hanging low in his waist, to call for you:
“You comin’ to bed?”
“Soon,” you tell him, which could be true, but not definite.
“Okay,” he sighs, coming behind you with a hand on your shoulder and a kiss to the opposite cheek.
You don’t give in, though, and he heads off to the bedroom.
You do join him eventually—almost an hour later, when you’re so tired that it’ll make you even more of a pain to deal with. He’s in the middle of fighting off sleep, trying to stay awake to make sure you come to bed with him, but as much as that makes your chest yearn for him, you plop down in bed a foot away and turn your back to him.
Behind you now, he shuffles to sit up. “Hey,” he tries, a soothing hand on your shoulder, “You alright, baby?”
No response.
Scooting a little closer to lean over and see your face, he brushes hair out of the way to press a kiss to your temple. “C’mon, talk t’me.”
But you turn away from his touch, and he scoffs.
“What, you mad at me now?” He watches you expectantly. “Not even gonna tell me what I did?”
“You didn’t do anything, Carmen,” you mumble, face muffled into your blanket.
“Wh—baby, don’t be like that right now—”
“Be like what?” you snap, sitting up and turning to look at him. “I’m sorry that my needs don’t align with your work schedule. Just let me know when it’d be best to reach you next time.” And with that, you drop back into bed, moving just a little further away from him.
He nearly laughs, then, real subtle with a hand rubbing his eyes and forehead because he knows you, he knows how you get when you miss him. He turns back onto his side with a groan and reaches his hand upon your waist, smoothing beneath the fabric of your shirt.
“Don’t touch me,” you spit, but you don’t dare move his hand away: it feels so much better this way, getting the touch he didn’t give you this morning.
“You’re bein’ mean today. You all cranky ‘cause you miss me, ‘s that it?”
You don’t answer.
“C’mon,” he urges you, shuffling closer so that his arm wraps fully around your waist and his face can bury into your neck with a kiss to your smooth skin. “‘M sorry for bein’ shitty this morning.” Instinctively, he draws a hand up your tummy, right beneath your breasts. “Missed you all day, y’know that?”
“Just leave me alone, Carm, I’m serious.”
“‘M really sorry about this morning, baby.” Pressing kisses to your neck, he takes a deep breath to sink into you. “After that guy comes, it’ll be over with, and I’ll take a couple days off, alright?”
“I don’t care, do what you want.”
He sighs, deep and gravelly and frustrated with your antics—but more so frustrated with himself. He has been shitty this week, he knows it, and he knows you especially don’t deserve it. “C’mon, hon, you’re killin’ me here, at least—at least gimme a kiss goodnight, huh?”
But you don’t. Because of course you don’t, he’s on you’re fuckin’ nerves with his distance lately—but this, his rough hands against your skin, his pleading, his groveling like he can’t imagine a world without you…it helps.
A little.
Not quite enough to cave or give in, though.
He seems to lose a bit of strength against you, laying into the mattress on his back again with a sigh and an arm resting over his eyes. The room stills, the fan whirrs, yet the tension between you is thick enough yet to slice through it with his chef’s knife.
That is, until his arms wrap around you again, and his hands grip your waist tight, and he lets out a grunt of a Can’t believe you’re makin’ me do this, and he wrangles you on top of him, leaving you chest to chest, with your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck and his hand rubbing soothing patterns up and down your back while the other holds you steady, worried you’ll slither away again.
Like he knew it would, the tension in your body dissolves. And maybe that’s what you wanted anyway, but you’d never tell him that—at least, not until tomorrow morning.
The room stills again. The hand smoothing along your back sneaks beneath your shirt, and you melt that much quicker. It’s hypnotic, his rough palms against your soft skin, scratches an itch you didn’t know was there until he wasn’t. He smells crisply clean and of the body wash he buys because you like the scent, a little musky with aldehydes and vetiver and sandalwood.
“This better, baby?” he murmurs, lending a careful kiss to your head.
But you only bury yourself further into him and answer with “Mm.”
He chuckles a bit, squeezes you tighter to make your heart throb. “Thought you’d say somethin’ like that.” Punctuates it with more kisses where he can reach, because now that he’s got you tethered to him again, he doesn’t think he could let you go.
The two of you stay where you are, then, just soaking in the other’s presence with wordless appreciation exchanged, growing heavier with sleep as heartbeats sync and eyelids slip closed. And by morning, legs will be intertwined, and Carmen will pull you from a groggy daze with a kiss to your lips, and you’ll be a little less bitter when he heads off to work.
(He knows it’ll simmer till he comes home, but if he gets to sleep with your weight and your warmth again, he’s sure it’ll be alright.)
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cevansbrat0007 · 19 days ago
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Guessing Games: A Fast Car Interlude
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Summary: You accidentally trigger Ari's jealous streak. Takes place directly after the events in Guessing Games.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Implied Future Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Jealous!Ari, Innocent Flirting, Stupid Men, Manhandling, Mentions of Spanking, Discussions of Self-Image, Mentions of Lingerie, Semi-Public Sex, Allusions to Fingering, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: After a shitty week, please enjoy this completely self-indulgent fic. Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
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“Hey. I know this car.” You think as you come to stand in front of a vehicle on display that happens to look strangely familiar. Smoothing your hands down the skirt of your sundress, you manage a quick side-step, narrowly avoiding a collision with a small child who was too busy enjoying his ice cream cone to pay attention to where he was going. 
You’ve been wandering around Fulton County’s annual Classic Car Showcase for the better part of an hour now, and so far things were going better than you’d expected. And not only that, but you were even beginning to have fun.
“I can see why this one caught your eye.” A familiar voice muses as he comes up behind you. 
“I’m trying to figure out where I’ve seen it before. But I’m drawing a blank.” Angling your body, you reach for one of Ari’s big hands, grasping it with both of yours. “Any ideas?” 
“You really don’t recognize it?” 
“‘Fraid not.” Your lips purse as you continue to wrack your brain. 
“It’s an exact replica of The General Lee, the 1969 Dodge Charger driven by Bo and Luke.” 
“Who?” You stare up at him confused. 
That earns you a chuckle, followed by him placing a gentle kiss atop your head. “Bo and Luke. From The Dukes of Hazzard. It was a popular show back in the eighties.” He explains, brushing a stray curl away from your face.
“Oh. Got it.” You nod, pretending to understand. “Mystery solved.”
You both stand there a few moments longer – mostly so he can admire the engine, or whatever the hell you assumed he was doing. Once he’s looked his fill, it’s apparently time to move on to the next car that catches his interest. You’re seemingly content to trail behind him until you happen to spot a nearby cluster of tents. 
“Ari?” 
“Yeah, little Bird?” The rich timbre of his voice has you smiling before you even realize you’re doing it.
“I reckon all this car hoppin’ has me feelin’ a little parched.” You tell him, turning your attention to the concessions located just across the lot. “I’m gonna go fetch myself a lemonade real quick while the lines are short.”
As expected, your man responds without missing a beat. But not before leading you over to the shade so that you can continue your conversation. Which was a good thing seeing as the temperature outside was hovering around the mid-eighties.
“Well, we can’t have that now can we?” Mirroring your smile, he brings your hand to his lips so that he can kiss the ridges of your knuckles. “Let’s go get you somethin’ to drink.”
“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll go while you hang out here in the shade.” Your palms come up to rest against the hard wall of his chest. “Besides,” you continue when he opens his mouth to object. “It’s not like I’m going far. I’ll just  be right over there.”  
“Nah.” Ari swiftly disagrees, adjusting his sunglasses. “How about you wait here while I go get us both something to drink?”
“Are you sure?” 
“Yep.” He gently flicks the tip of your nose. “After all, what kinda man would I be if I left my sweetheart out here to melt?”
“I mean…if you insist.” Rising on your toes – a feat made easier thanks to your wedge heels – you plant a smooch on his bearded cheek. “Hurry back, sugar.” 
Now that he’s officially a man on a mission, Ari wastes almost no time making a beeline for the concessions. But not before issuing a stern warning to you, his curious little Bird.
“Don’t you go wanderin’ off on me, darlin’.” He growls, leaning down to tenderly peck your lips . “I expect to find you right here in this spot when I come back.” 
And then he’s gone. You barely have time to respond with a playful salute before he’s striding off in search of sustenance for you both. Leaving you alone to twiddle your thumbs while you dutifully await his return. 
Not that you minded. If anything, grateful for this brief respite from the heat. It never crosses your mind to abandon your spot in favor of looking at more cars. At least, not until you spy one that has you gasping in pure delight.
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“Woah.” You breathe as you come to stand in front of the one vehicle with the power to transport you straight back to your childhood: a 1958 Plymouth Fury.  
Better known as the car from Stephen King’s novel, Christine. 
You’d absolutely loved this movie as a kid. So much so that your Uncle had bought you your own personal copy after he got tired of renting it for you weekend after weekend. Why, you must’ve seen it over a hundred times. 
But as luck would have it, your private glee is interrupted by the sound of a voice coming up behind you. 
“She’s a beaut, ain’t she?” The man asks, his southern drawl growing even more inviting when he tips his black stetson. “Restored her myself.” 
“Holy crap! It looks just like the one from the film.” You chirp, reaching out to run your fingers along the shiny finish before swiftly thinking better of it. “Sorry.” Is all you can manage as you turn to face him. “I just…never thought I’d get the chance to see it in person.”
“Well…” The dark haired cowboy admits, flashing a chagrined smile. “It’s not actually the car. But it’s pretty dang close. Took me a few years, seeing that pretty smile of yours makes it all worth it.” His smile only grows wider as he holds out his hand to you. “The name’s Russell, by the way.”
You two spend a few more moments exchanging names and pleasantries before he politely redirects the attention back to the prized vehicle in front of you. Russell invites you to ask all the questions you like, only to laugh when you eagerly take him up on his offer. 
In fact, you’re enjoying the conversation so much that you hardly notice when he slowly begins inching closer to you, his leanly muscled frame almost boxing you in. He was charming – you’d give him that much. And easy on the eyes.
Russell was the type of man who warranted a second look. Or at least he would. That is, assuming you hadn’t already been blessed with the gift of Ari Daniel Levinson. 
“You know,” He murmurs, his cool gaze warming as he boldly peruses your dress. “Something tells me this conversation would pair wonderfully with a glass of wine.” His hand reaches for yours once more. “Perhaps over dinner?”
“Oh, I’m sorry...” The shocked apology comes tumbling out of your mouth. “I–I can’t. I actually came with someone. He’s–”
“Look, I don’t wanna be too forward.” Russell smoothly interrupts, stroking his thumb along the ridge of your knuckles. “But I haven’t been able to let you out of my sight since I saw you damn near an hour ago. Honestly can’t remember the last time I came across a woman as sweet as you.”
“That’s awfully kind of you to say.” You reply, intending to let him down easy.
“I saw that fella you were with.” He continues in earnest, still refusing to relinquish his grip on your hand. “Also saw him walk off and abandon you too.” 
“He didn’t – no one abandoned anybody!” Closing your eyes, you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation. You weren’t used to men hitting on you like this. It has you feeling way out of your depth. 
“Be that as it may, I also believe in fate.” His already gravelly voice dips an octave. “I mean, I’ve come to this showcase year after year and never once have I met someone like you.” 
“I…I’m not sure I’d go that far.” You hedge as you weigh your options. 
On one hand, you really did want to be polite. But you also needed to be firm. You already had a man in your life. A man who owned you – mind, body, and soul. Not that you’d had any say in the matter. But these days, you were well past complaining about the handsome Beast of a man you’d come to cherish.
“Think about it.” Your would-be suitor implores, giving you a gentle squeeze. “There has to be a reason our paths crossed today.” 
Alright. It was officially time to put a nail in this coffin. You open your mouth to respond, only to have someone else beat you to the punch. 
“I think it’s about time you let go of her hand.” Ari rumbles, the sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. “Now.”
“Something I can help you with, buddy?” Russell responds without hesitation, clearly annoyed by the other man’s sudden reappearance. “Because the lady and I were in the middle of a conversation.”
“And I’m sure it was a great one.” Your bounty hunter is too busy glaring at his apparent rival to pay you any real mind. Although, he’s quick to shove a cup of what you suspect to be lemonade into your palm the second Russell releases his hold. “Too bad it’s over now. Let’s go, sweet Bird.” 
The ice in his tone is enough to make you shiver. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Ari was none too happy to find you entertaining the company of another man. But the last thing you’d expected was for him to be jealous. 
Unless you were reading things wrong. 
“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to wait, fella.” Russell surprises everyone by coming to stand almost nose-to-nose with Ari. “Because she and I were about to take the ride out for a little spin.” 
“We most certainly were not.” You try, impatiently tugging on his arm. “Ari, let’s just go.” Although, you’re not surprised when you end up being completely ignored. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Guess that’s what happens when you abandon a pretty little flower like her all alone in an empty field.” Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Russelly makes a point of poking your man in his chest. “I’m just glad I was lucky enough to be here to catch your mistake.”
Worry fills you when you see Ari simply nod along, his brawny shoulders wrought with tension. Sucking on his teeth, the bounty hunter briefly looks away as he forces himself to take a calming breath. Not that it seems to help any. 
“You know what? I get it. No, really–I do.” Ari smirks, reaching up to lightly scratch at his jaw. “I knew what I was getting into, walking into a showcase like this with a beautiful woman on my arm, wearin’ the hell out of that dress.” One thick arm wraps itself around your waist, hauling you close. “My girl turns heads everywhere she goes. She’s just too sweet to realize it.”
Tucking you behind him, your man bridges the last bit of distance between himself and Russell. And while you can’t see his face, you’re shocked when he gently lifts his rival’s hat from his head, before tossing it in the direction of his forgotten plymouth. 
“And sometimes that sweetness makes cowboys do stupid fuckin’ things.” Ari continues, sounding almost smug. But you don’t miss the danger in his tone. “Which is why I’m gonna be the bigger man right now and walk away, before I give into the urge to find out if you have what it takes to make the long drive home with a fractured arm.”
“Alright, that’s enough from you two.” You snap, finally fed up with all this male posturing. After all this nonsense, you just wanted to sit down and enjoy your drink before all the ice melted. “Russell, cool car. But I’m not interested, okay? And as for you, Ari…”
In lieu of responding, your man chooses to quirk one impatient, tawny brow. 
“You’re looking a little flushed. I think it’s time we got you outta the sun.” Grabbing his wrist, you proceed to physically drag him away from the scene. It takes virtually all your might, but you’re grateful when his legs finally begin to move.
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You don’t stop walking until you reach a set of picnic tables that are far enough away from the show to give you both some much needed privacy while you hashed things out. 
“Darlin’, I can tell by your face you’re fixin’ to yell.” Ari growls, yanking his arm out of your grasp. "And I'd like to make my case before you start." His frown only deepens as he watches you perch on the edge of a bench, but not before taking a dramatic sip of your ice cold lemonade. 
It tastes divine – the perfect treat for a hot summer’s day.
“Did you really have to throw the poor man’s hat?” You ask, fanning yourself.
“Probably not. But it felt good.” He shrugs, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Should’ve stuffed his ass in the goddamned trunk while I was at it.” 
“I don’t know what you think you saw, but I was in the process of letting him down easy.”
“Could’ve sworn I told your bratty self to stay put where I fuckin’ left you.” His normally clear blue eyes glitter dangerously, letting you know that he’s pissed. “I mean, it was bad enough waitin’ in line listening to two idiots talk about which one of ‘em was gonna be brave enough to ask for your number…”
“Yeah right.” You scoff, looking up at the sky as you pray for patience.
“Roll ‘em at me one more time, baby. Swear to God.” Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he finds himself wondering for the umpteenth time just what the hell he’d been thinking bringing you to something like this with you wearing a dress like that. “I’m just itchin’ for a reason to lift that skirt and redden your disrespectful ass.”
In Ari’s mind, you were always the prettiest girl in the room. But on a day like today? You were downright irresistible. And what made it even worse is that you honestly had no idea the effect you had sometimes – on him and damn near every other man who came into your presence.  
“You can’t talk like that!” You hiss, hoping that you weren’t being overheard. 
“And just why the hell not?”
“Because we’re in public, you Beast!” 
Rising to your feet, you set your drink on the table, deciding it might be better if you put some distance between you. Too bad Ari chooses to follow, walking you backwards until you feel yourself collide with the base of a nearby tree. His hands come to rest on either side of your head, effectively caging you in with his much larger frame.  
“I should’ve known what I was getting into the moment I decided to let you walk outta the house wearing that dress.” Ari rasps, trailing his nose along the delicate column of your throat. “I thought I was safe, even with that lacey little scrap of nothin’ you’ve got hidin’ underneath.” 
You barely manage to stifle a moan when your man captures your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking hard before releasing it with a soft pop. One of his hands leaves its purchase to settle dangerously low on your hip. 
“But I see now that’s not enough for you, is it baby?” You press your thighs together when that same hand moves once again. This time working it’s way under your skirt - his short, blunt nails dancing along your skin as his mouth hovers a mere centimeter above yours. “I’m not sure why you thought it might be a good idea to tease me like this. Not too keen on you flirting with other men.”
“I promise I wasn’t.” Your eyes flutter closed as he grinds his growing erection against the softness of your belly. “I just got excited about the car. It’s from one of my favorite Stephen King stories.” 
“Is that why I found you two holdin’ hands?” You let out a whimper when you feel the roughened pads of his fingers dig into your heated flesh, making you squirm. “Because you were excited?”
It wasn’t often that your man got riled up like this. But when he did there was almost no getting through to him until he calmed down. If you were lucky, you could typically drag him to some place quiet, away from prying eyes and listening ears.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, sugar.” Leaning up, you press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I suppose I wouldn’t like it either if I saw you holding hands with a random woman. Promise it won’t happen again.” You add, weaving your arms around his trim waist after all you receive is a grunt for your trouble. 
Although you can’t help but notice that some of the tension seems to have finally left his shoulders.
“Thank you.” 
Ari allows his forehead to rest against your own as he struggles to collect himself. Wanting more, you cup his face with your hands, bring his mouth down for a much needed kiss. His eager tongue dances with yours, demanding more of your submission as the passion builds.
You’re both breathing hard when you finally come up for air. However, you realize your man’s not done. At least not yet. 
“You’re enough to drive a man insane. You know that?” He groans in between soft, yet feral kisses. “I swear I try to be progressive – I do. I got sisters. A niece.” A sound almost like a purr rumbles in his chest as he nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck. “But I’m also man enough to admit I’ve got a bit of a jealous streak. Never was much of a problem until I met you.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You murmur at the same time as your pussy spasms, dampening your panties with your slick. 
“Good.” Ari lifts your leg, hitching it around his waist and not giving a damn about who sees. “And Bird?”
“Uh huh?” A shiver courses through you as he begins covering your exposed flesh with tiny, possessive love bites. This time you make no move to stop him. Thank goodness you’d had the foresight to pack some concealer.
“I hate to break it to you.” His mouth finds yours once more, deliberately teasing you with each sensual stroke and flick of his tongue. “But you and me, we’re not gonna make it back to Bell’s Creek tonight.”
“And w–why is that?” Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head as his fingers find your clit, toying with the swollen nub through the soaked fabric of your panties. 
“Because I’m having the damnedest time trying to talk myself out of fucking you hard and fast on the hood of my truck.” He responds with an unapologetic shrug. “But I suppose I’ll just have to settle for a hotel, huh?” Grinning, he increases the pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves, loving the way you buck and writhe beneath his touch.
“I’ll start hunting for reservations.” You move to reach for your phone even as you feel your vision blur and your toe s curl. “But whatever you do…oh God…just please don’t stop.”’
END
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lulujeno · 3 months ago
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finding out you sleep with a plushie
— nct dream ᡣ𐭩
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cw : none! 100% fluff ^^
a/n : my tumblr debut yay! tried to make it as gender neutral as possible so i hope you enjoyyy
mark:
came home late from practice and found you sleeping on the couch with a winnie-the-pooh plushie tucked under your arms
first time seeing you sleep with the plushie despite knowing that you can't sleep without it
takes note of it for future occurrences
going on a flight? road trip? staying at your friends place? he will for sure remind you about the plush
when you forget the plushie at his place he will have it sitting on his bed against a pillow (sometimes 'reading' one of his books)
every time he sees winnie-the-pooh now he will take a quick pic of it to send to you
"yooooo why this lowkey looks like you"
doesn't forget to remind you that you're cuter tho
poor markie was so panicked when he couldn't find the plush after you texted him that you left it at his place
had a whole apology written down knowing how precious it was since its your childhood plushie
promised to buy you the exact same one and is basically crying now because he knows that it won't be able to replace the one you had
luckily he found it under his bed so we're all good!
renjun:
you were taking a nap on his bed when he saw you hugging a duck plushie
takes a quick pic for memories sake (and to tease you about it in the near future)
since then his little notes for you include a small duck doodle on it
"left early for practice 𓅭" "leftovers are in the fridge 𓅿" "goodluck for the interview today 𓅹"
when he's overseas for schedules he'll find something with ducks on it to give to you as a little souvenir
kisses both you and the duck when he sees you asleep after a long day (it calms him down)
would ask who's cuter, him or duckie?
you jokingly say duckie which causes him to nag to your plushie about stealing his partner
ducks are now his new favourite thing to draw (lyric sheets are his no. 1 victim)
when you couldn't find the plush he offers himself as something for you to cuddle with
resulted in him getting smacked and proceeding to help you find the duck
gets sulky after, saying that hes better at cuddling than the "piece of fluff"
you coo at his jealousy over a stuffed toy and cuddle the both of them
jeno:
he arrived at your place a little later than usual and sees you tucked in with a black bunny
he coos at how adorable the sight is and takes a picture to set as one of his many lockscreens of you
noticed that its the bunny he bought for you before he went on tour for tds2
"if you miss me just cuddle the bunny okay? he has black hair like me so it wouldnt be that much of a difference"
obviously cuddling a grown man and a 31cm plushie is different but what can you do when he's halfway across the globe?
also the type to kiss you and your bunny goodnight
caught him doing it one day and now try to stay awake long enough to catch him doing it again
you fail to do so since his schedules always end soooo late f u sm!!
would give your bunny a wash once every few months since the bunny is a representation of him and he takes personal hygiene very seriously! (his words, not yours)
the bunny would have a new ribbon tied to its ears, depending on what colour his hair is this time (always praying for the pink or white ribbon to come back one day)
gets jealous that you cuddle the bunny more than him
you'd get back at him saying that he's the one that bought the bunny
haechan:
could not shut up when he realised that the plushie you couldn't sleep without was a brown bear
teases you to no end because everyone knows the he is the og brown bear
he finds it too cute that you need a mini him to sleep
"awwwh, you're so in love with me that your plushie is basically me"
you tell him that its just a basic bear, theres no deeper meaning to it
you did buy it because it looks like him but he can't know that! the teases will be insufferable
doesn't care if it had another name before hand because it is now haechan jr.
if he sees the plush on the floor he'll pick it up and tuck it under your arms
the type to tell the little guy to take care of you in your sleep
you'd buy a mini version for him to bring around for schedules and tours
gives you updates about mini haechan jr. every second
practice room? recording studio? m/v shoot? fansign? filming 7llin? you will be getting updates!! not missing a single one
would post haechan jr. and mini haechan jr. on his instagram as a soft launch
it's a little too soft but its okay since you both want to keep it on the downlow anyways
jaemin:
found you sleeping one night with a pink bunny hidden under the blanket next to you
was cooing at how cute the sight was
also one to take pics because that's his partner!! why wouldn't he?
had to hold himself back from pinching your cheeks and opted to pat your head instead
will ask about it the next time he sees you and wont stop telling you how cute you are
you left it at his place once and suddenly theres a ribbon on your bunny's ears (i wonder who added it)
caught him having a full on conversation with your bunny a few times damn your bf is weird
basically treats the bunny like his child at this point
will remind you to bring your bunny when going on overnight trips with him
will not stop taking pictures of the bunny (he has a whole file for it on his phone btw)
"aigoooo look how adorable she is"
"awww both my babies look so cute I have to take a pic"
also one to send you pics of things with bunnies on it when on tour, buys it for you too sometimes
his cats loves bitting everything, including your bunny
makes sure that its as far away from luna, lucy, and luke after he caught them trying to bite on it
you're now 100x cuter in his eyes and he wont shut up about it
chenle:
slightly smiled to himself when saw you bring a dumbo plushie the first time you slept over at his face
he bought it so of course you'll be sleeping with it
why dumbo? because he has big ears and you're nosy as hell (his words btw)
you got sulky when you heard the reason and he corrected himself and said that it was because he was a yapper and you're the listener instead
starts calling you dumbo and the plushie dumbo jr. instead
would also ask to pick between him and the plushie
got so offended when you picked dumbo
"i am THE zhong chenle, who wouldn't choose me?"
would replace the plushie with himself after you sleep since he's petty like that, he wouldn't let a stuffed toy win over him
but would also put dumbo in between your arms if he wakes up first in the morning (it's to keep you company while he's cooking breakfast)
sends you pics of daegal and dumbo together like a proud dad
he's still chenle though so dont expect your plushie to get the same dad treatment as jaemin
the type to get you more dumbo related items since dumbo is the only plushie you sleep with
jisung:
his heart melted at the sight of you sleeping on the couch with a hamster plushie squished against your cheeks
if that man wasn't a simp for you already then he is now
needs a few seconds to just admire how cute you were for faling asleep while trying to wait for him to end his schedules
he's not one to bring it up directly, but that doesn't mean he won't tease you about it from time to time
probably annoys the members (read: chenle) about how adorable his partner is when cuddled up with a plush version of him
he's so down bad but you can't blame him for being in love
took him a few nights to realise that its the plushie he bought for you when you visited him during smtown live in tokyo
got so shy and couldn't contain his smile when he realised it
would ask you if you've given the hamster a name yet and when you said you haven't he suggested 'hamster'
you don't have the heart to tell him how corny it is so you agree to it
you both are down bad!!!!
if he sees the hamster on the floor he'll dust off any possible dust before tucking it under your arms again
takes a picture to make it last longer
you leave the plush at his place on accident once
send you a message saying that he can't believe you just forgot your son like that
takes a pic of him cuddling the hamster to show that he is being taken care of no ones focusing on the doll when his hands are right there
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hanjisungslag · 8 months ago
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attack on titan headcanons #10
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synopsis: how the characters react when you, their s/o, gets hurt. 🩹
characters involved: eren, mikasa, armin, jean, connie, sasha, reiner, bertolt, annie, levi, erwin and hange
notes: i am cooking up a storm, so watch out for that & also hit double digits!!
☆ eren jaeger
bro is INFURIATED
“WHO DID IT HUH?! ILL KILL THEM WITH MY BARE HANDS-”
oh.. you got injured in training? poor babyyy☹️
he’s super sweet and gentle with you.
if anyone tries to go near you though.. he’s super scared they’re gonna accidentally hurt you😭.
so he’s always at the edge of his seat ready to rescue you if needs be.
he gets all of your food, water, clothes, bandages etc.
then the nurses catch him doing it and have to YANK him off of you, once again.
☆ mikasa ackerman
so incredibly caring and concerned 🤍
she was the one who found you on the expedition with a broken leg
she refuses you to the hospital
lets the nurses do their jobs (thank god)
she really wants to be able to help nurse you back to health as well though..
she gives you the next best thing aka massages.
she literally comes in everyday and gives you 3 massages minimum a day
she’ll also sleep in the hospital with you most days.
☆ armin arlert
nothing less than an angel.
for however long you’re in the hospital, he’ll bring you flowers
in there for 3 weeks? new flowers every week.
in there for a week? new flowers every other day.
reads you books every night to help you sleep
sleeps there EVERY single night
always gives good morning and good night kisses
keeps you updated with what’s going on with everyone and training to make sure you don’t miss out.
makes sure to surprise you by bringing your friends there too!! it was a super sweet surprise.
when you’re sleeping, he goes around asking nurses if they need help😖.
☆ jean kirstein
UGH TERRIFIED FOR YOUUU
he has to hype himself up before going to see you in hospital because it just breaks his heart.
but being able to see you, hug you, know that you’re being taken care of makes him feel wayy better.
he’s just happy to see that you’re not too badly injured.
just a sprain from training!
he likes to draw things for you from the outside
or you guys draw together.
yk that cute game where one person draws a squiggle and the other person has to make into a drawing?
yeah, you guys do that. and it’s frickin adorbs😡
☆ connie springer
you went to do some late night training by yourself
and cornelius found you on the ground. in a lot of pain.
he rushed you to the first aid
fastest anyone has EVER seen that man run
you got cleaned up but had to take a break from training until you were better.
definitely tries to make you laugh all the time
even with your injury, he still wants to see you happy and smiling 🤍
☆ sasha braus
aw bless her cotton socks.
your injury wasn’t fatal enough to warrant a hospital stay
but the nurses said to stay home and rest up!
you had to take care of your scar
in her own time, sasha headed over to first aid to ask the nurses how to help you properly☹️.
you literally do not lift a finger!!
she does everything for you, like cleaning it up, wrapping it up etc.
and she’s really good at it and all…
☆ reiner braun
he’s like a scared little boy.
he’ll sit by your side and tell you it’s all okay
but when he’s alone.. HE GETS SO UPSET
sometimes he’ll take ‘bathroom breaks’ just to pull himself together because he hates seeing you in this state :(.
really affects his everyday life
but he hides it well.
BIGG celebrations as soon as you’re out of hospital
is literally like a servant, will get you everything and anything you want.
☆ bertolt hoover
GAH SO ANXIOUS!!
he bakes you cookies for being so brave☹️.
he stays with you all day long until the nurse finally tells him he has to go.
it breaks his heart leaving you but he gets up bright and bloody early to see you in the morning
like i’m talking the second the hospital opens up.
☆ annie leonhart
she’s not nervous,
your injury wasn’t fatal or anything.
she’ll still visit you, of course ;)
she also makes sure to tell you how brave you are
since you are scared of hospitals.
she’ll giggle at your wimpy-ness though.
like you were getting patched up and you were just like trying not to scream
and she was just standing there chuckling at you.
☆ levi ackerman
so so so scared, secretly.
he has lost one too many people
but to lose you? that would completely and utterly BREAK him.
it was a pretty gnarly injury as well…
which was rather terrifying for both you and him
but he’ll keep a cool persona around you.
if he’s unable to visit due to work, he’ll ring the hospital and asks how you are.
he’ll always make time to come see you though, no matter what!!
☆ erwin smith
he hears from his assistant that you’ve been put into hospital
he runs STRAIGHT over and makes sure to comfort you.
he’ll stay till dark when you’re asleep and pay the nurses a visit too
he asks them to take extra good care of you.
if he’s unable to see you, he makes sure to call you up every single day
or at least have SOMEONE come check on you.
☆ hange zoë
GAH!! FREAKS OUT!
hange has seen it all at this rate
but doesn’t seem to heavily affected.
they’ve never really had anyone close to them be extremely injured
they were sooo scared though :(.
it was really sad for everyone to see hange’s energy so low but
they couldn’t help it!!
all they could think about was their poor love in hospital :(.
when they’re around you though, they try to stay positive! and tells you all about their work to keep you both distracted.
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pomefioredove · 3 months ago
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so, I could request jamil, leona, vil, rook, azul, jade, rollo, malleus and lillia with a heroic fantasy lover reader (well, not so much fantasy, since it's basically a fantasy world. i mean, jaskaja, malleus is a freaking fairy prince). a reader who wakes up reading, watching series or movies in the genre, who makes his own maps of his worlds in the back of his notebooks in class, who in potions class takes notes for his own inventions, who starts inventing recipes in the kitchen and when he's supposed to be studying he's actually writing his fantasy stories or novels, maybe he's not even yuu, he's from another dimension! just another x student who is a bookworm. but that his sleep schedule starts to be affected by these habits when midterms come and at the same time he wins a major writing contest, and that between the hobby and the studies he sleeps, eats and rests less.
thanks and good day 💗💗!
of course! this is actually quite cute
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fantasy writer reader
type of post: headcanons characters: leona, azul, jade, jamil, rook, vil, lilia, malleus, rollo additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
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well, well, well
for all his teasing, and there has been a lot, Leona actually starts to like you
damn it...
you were just another wide-eyed, naive herbivore to him
and a little bookworm, too
and now...
strangely, he finds himself missing you
thinking about the stories you'd told him...
...even wanting you to ask him about his magic
which he did find annoying, but now, it's kind of endearing...
you do strange things to this man
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Azul will admit that he was... a little wrong about you
after all, when you first met, he took you as a rather naive person
so... curious
asking him about magic, the sea, potions and spells and...
well, he read that as innocence
for weeks, he answered all your questions, even showed you a few simple spells, all free of charge
...hoping that you'd come to trust him
then, you vanish
he later reads a fantasy story published in the school newspaper
...about him
you were just using him for fantasy character inspiration all along!?
...
...actually... that's quite flattering
he'll let you get away with this one
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Jade is drawn to you
and by that, I mean he finds you before you find him
so curious...
he can tell you've adapted to life at Night Raven College much quicker than most would
quicker than he did, even
and he's actually from Twisted Wonderland
magic doesn't surprise you, nor does the politics or history of this world...
how... interesting
he'll follow you around, asking question, reading your stories, never too far away from you
he's never met anyone so strange, really
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Jamil can't imagine being from a world without magic
...and, apparently, neither can you
disregarding your... ahem... heroic interests, you fit right in at NRC
seriously, a few months here and you're already ahead of Kalim
...he could learn a thing or two from you...
it starts making sense when you tell Jamil that books from your world are full of magic
where you lack experience, you make up for in knowledge
he... respects that, actually
you're more well-read than most of his peers!
now, if only he could do something about that terrible sleep schedule of yours...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Rook thinks you have such a beautiful eye for detail
and a creative soul
of course, he knows a writer when he sees one
and you catch his eye right away
he just can't help it! such imagination, such talent... you inspire him just by being!
...okay, maybe he's a little overexcited
being a poet himself, it's not often he meets someone who understands the beauty of life like a fellow writer
he will eagerly read everything you give him
every story you write, every map you draw, even your own notes and potion recipes
...and he'll give you detailed praises on each one
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Vil is already used to writer shenanigans
...too used to them, maybe
the last thing he wants is another Rook waxing poetically about a bug you saw on the north stairwell
at least you seem quiet
what really captivates him, though, is your interest in potionology
you're already at such an advanced level that you're making your own recipes
even if it's just for your stories, that takes some skill
you'll have to forgive him for fussing over your health and wellbeing
he can sense your potential
goodness, at this rate, you could replace him as housewarden by the end of the year
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
there's nothing Lilia likes more than a good story
after all, he's got lots of his own
so, to him, writers are the greatest thing since... whatever the hell he eats
and he can be a little... pushy
leering over your shoulder, pestering you to show him what you're working on...
he can't help it!
he's just so curious!
the one thing he's good for, though, is details
you ask him if this language, or outfit, or invention, is appropriate for the time period, and he'll be able to answer
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Malleus is always flattered by your curiosity
one might think that a human from a magicless world would be frightened by his appearance and his title
but you...
you're just curious
he likes answering your questions
you seem so interested in magic, he can't help but show off a little
he's already promised to show you around Briar Valley
and, of course, he loves hearing your stories
the ones you write, the ones you remember from home...
you're just a fascinating little human
and he always feels special when he's the first to read something you've written
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
now...
Rollo doesn't quite understand you
no, actually-
he's jealous
not that he'd ever admit it...
but the thought of a world that is so devoid of magic that its people make fantasy of it is so very enticing...
...he's willing to excuse your childish interest
and indulge you in your maps and your potions and your stories
you don't know any better
but to him, your world is the fantastical one, not his
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