#but like i did have a great time watching it. maybe i did love it and it's actually the other way around i loved it but also was like hm...

[hotwife-larissa-returns]

Well, as you may know, I‘ve started quite early with exploring the pleasures of sex. I‘ve been sexually precocious and luckily my mommy knew and didn’t fight it, but helped me to get the best possible experiences. She even let one of her lovers deflower me, while she watched him doing it.

Even today, I‘m very thankful for that, it was one of the greatest gifts, I‘ve ever gotten. He was in an age, where he could have been my dad, but he had the experience and patience to do it right. He took his time, prepared me to take it and finally made me a woman.

But that experience was just the start, once I started to enjoy being fucked, I wanted more of it. More sex, more cock, more cum. I dressed like a slut in school, got the right kind of attention and there were quite a lot of boys, who got horny for me. I could see the bulges in their pants, they were attracted to a naughty little girl, who had already been deflorated.

It felt, like they all knew it, as if they could see it, that I already had sex. It was awkward, but I loved to have that reputation of being an easy lay. And I really enjoyed it, being hit on, having some flirts and some older boys had me on their personal watchlist as well.

Most of those boys even in higher grades hadn’t have much experience with the opposite sex at that time. They did some kissing, maybe some petting, but most of them haven’t put their cock in one of that girls in their class. So basically they were still virgins. But their desire to do it was growing - as was the pressure not to get left behind.

They wanted to brag about being a man, that finally enjoyed the pleasures of sticking his cock inside of a warm and wet pussy. And I volunteered to be he right person to start with. With my reputation it was quite easy to get invited to a lot of parties and as a girl of 17 years, you‘ll be happy to take those invites. In most cases those parties were at their parents houses, while they were away on vacation.

And I was the special guest on those parties, I got pulled into one of the rooms and the host had his time with me, some of his friends did me, too, after he had finished. It wasn’t too much fun, not what I expected or desired.

They were so inexperienced, they didn’t knew how to do a woman, they fucked me quick and dirty, came early, even before I got aroused. But at least all of them knew to take some protection. Mommy got me on the pill after she noticed that my sexual appetite was rising, but she told me to take care, that they have to use protection as well.

But that guy was special… I hadn’t seen him in school before. He took his time, he cared to get me into the mood, kissed me passionately, inhaled my scent, caressed my body, it felt like he was really interested in me and I had some feelings for him as well. I wanted him… desperately. And he knew it. I spread my legs for him and he entered me. Gosh, it felt great… I surely wasn’t the first one he had in bed.

I was completely overwhelmed by my feeling and let him fuck me, he gave me two orgasms and even screamed his name, before he came. And suddenly I felt, that something felt differently… so wrong. Fuck, in the heat of the moment, we had forgotten to use a condom. I opened my eyes and I was even more shocked to see two other boys standing next to the bed, completely undressed and jerking their hard cocks.

He kissed my neck again, he knew what it makes me feel like, and as I blushed, he called me his slutty princess and told me not to regret it, I was a wonderful fuck and his friends are quite as good as he is, when it comes to please a needy girl. It was the first time I felt like a dirty whore, his cum was oozing out of my tight little pussy, while I could see the lust in his friends eyes. It turned me on and I let them have me as well.

They ran a train on me that night, they took multiple turns on me… none of them used a condom, they bathed their cocks in he other guys cum. After they had finished, they left the room and as they dressed up, they pulled some money out of their pockets and gave it to him. I was so tired and exhausted and my pussy was a burning mess.

He joined me in bed, cuddled with me, kissed me, called me his new lovely slut and told me, that he’ll love to earn some more money with me. I could believe what was happening here. But I was just too exhausted and tired to discuss that, he did me one more time, bathing his cock in my well used and sloppy cunt and as he shot his last load into me, we both fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up laying next to him, he looked so cute, I kissed him and for some reason I thanked him for last night and told him something stupid… that I think I love him. He just smiled and as he walked to the bathroom I couldn’t keep my eyes off his slimy cock. I begged him to suck it clean… and I did.

He just smiled, called me a good slut and told me, that he couldn’t wait to introduce me to his family, but that’s another story.

👩🏻🤗🥰😍😘💋🫦🍆🍆🍆💦😈💓

[sematarygirls]

 📖 ─── a cluttered scrapbook: send in any thoughts on any of the characters below for a blurb .ᐟ

omg hello congratulations??? literally love your blog sm. you’re writing is peak and so perf. i was thinking, we all know rafe is a “proactive” type of person (or so he says). so how would he react to reader giving him the silent treatment after she found out something? (maybe he was doing cocaine again after she explicitly asked him not to anymore???) and what antics would he use to get reader talking to him??

once again, congratulations to you. you deserve so much!!! so proud of you <3333

thank you so much !! i'm so sorry it took so long to get to this </3

cw: dark rafe, manipulation, controlling behavior, threats of self harm

Rafe hates the silent treatment. It feels like a slap in the face. After everything he's done for you, you can't even give him the basic respect of talking things out?

He had done a great job of hiding his ongoing cocaine addiction after you'd threatened to break up with him if he didn't stop. He absolutely couldn't stand ultimatums, being backed into a corner, but he also couldn't lose you, so he promised he would quit and get clean, even pretending to go off to a rehab facility for a month—during which he was actually going on a month-long bender in a fancy hotel up in California.

And his lies had worked. For months, he hid his addiction, leading you to believe that he was finally clean and that he had done it for you.

But then, you dropped your phone one night at his house, and it had found its way under his bed. Leaning down to retrieve it, you pushed up the bottom of his comforter and found yourself greeted by the sight of a wooden box you'd seen before—the very one you had watched Rafe throw away before he went off to "rehab".

With shaky hands, you opened the box and found yourself staring at a baggie of white powder, a substance you knew all too well.

"What are you doing?" Rafe's voice came from the doorway, sharp and defensive. He knew he had been caught, but his mind was already swirling with blame for you rather than accepting the consequences of his own actions. Why were you snooping around his room? Did you not trust him?

You looked up at him, your mind running a million miles a minute as a plethora of emotions overwhelmed you at once. You didn't want to talk to him. You could barely even stomach looking at him right now, so without a word, you grabbed your phone from where it had fallen and stood up abruptly.

He caught your arm as you tried to leave. "Oh, we're doing this now? Real mature," he scoffed at your behavior. You were being dramatic, childish even, by subjecting him to the silent treatment instead of trying to talk this out like adults.

You simply pulled your arm back from him roughly, not meeting his gaze as you pushed past him and hurried down the stairs. He should've followed you, but his pride and ego stopped him. You would come crawling back, apologizing for how you acted. He was sure of it.

But, you didn't. Days went by without a word, and he started to get antsy, started to spiral as paranoia overtook him. You were his. How dare you ignore him? Were you off with another guy? Were you with your awful Pogue friends? He couldn't stand not knowing where you were and having you with him every minute.

At first, he tried to manipulate his way out of it by feigning an apology and ending it with a guilt trip, texting you things like "Okay, I messed up, but you just shutting me out? That's fucked up. Just talk to me, baby," and "It's not like I was doing it all the time. I mean, cmon, are you really gonna throw everything away over this? It's nothing."

When you refused to be won over so easily, seeing right through his tactics, he would start showing up wherever you were—home, work, the beach, anywhere you were, he was there too, desperately trying to intimidate you into talking to him with his piercing gaze and menacing stance.

He would corner you, trying to force a reaction out of you. "So what, you're just going to act like I don't exist?" He'd ask harshly before softening, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his knuckle lightly grazing your cheek as he did. "C'mon, baby, I know you miss me, miss us." He could see the resolve in your eyes crumbling and it made him feel powerful and triumphant, but before you opened your mouth to speak, Kiara swept in, grabbing your arm and tugging you away from Rafe as she shot a glare in his direction.

This infuriated Rafe. Typical Pogue, always sticking their nose where it doesn't belong and fucking up his life.

From there, he attempted sending you expensive gifts with notes like "Just talk to me, baby. Let me fix this," and when that didn't work, he turned to threats, saying he would hurt himself or you if you didn't hear him out.

Finally, he showed up to your house in the middle of the night, his eyes bloodshot and puffy, pupils dilated. You hesitated but decided to open the door, and when you did, you felt guilty for ignoring him for so long. He looked absolutely wrecked like he hadn't eaten or slept in days. He was clenching and unclenching his jaw, leaning against the doorframe and peering down at you. His presence was heavy, the air thick with tension as neither of you spoke.

"Let me in," he demanded. His fingers twitched at his sides before he rubbed them over his jaw. "I just—fuck, I don’t even know what to do anymore, baby." His large frame blocked the doorway, making you feel small as his eyes darted wildly. You felt a mix of guilt and fear stir in your stomach. "You’re just gonna keep pretending I don’t exist? Really?" His voice dropped lower, rougher. "’Cause if you don’t talk to me now, I swear to God, I’ll—" He stopped himself, his jaw clenching as he stared at you with hardened eyes, the threat clear. You knew he meant it.

"Rafe..." You said quietly, your voice trembling slightly as you looked up at him with wide eyes, feeling like you were looking at someone you didn't recognize.

His lips quirked up in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “That’s all I needed, baby. Just needed to hear your voice," he whispered, stepping forward to invade your space and force you backward so he could come inside. "Y'know, I'd do anything for you, right?" He asked, the question rhetorical as he reached out to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "I’ve been losing my fucking mind without you. I won't lose you. I can't lose you, alright? I-I need you. You're mine, you got that? You can't just walk away. You can't just ignore me. I won't let you."

[celuere]

For our dear girl Mavuika.. Fucking pregnant!Fem!Reader, or with a breeding of kink? Story is up to you, you have great imagination, you'll do a perfect job, so I trust you :3

you have no idea what a soft spot i have for tender pregnant sex anon… and with mavuika wokeksnekwnewi I KNOW SHE‘D BE SO GENTLE WITH YOU, HOLDING AND CARESSING YOUR BABY BELLY AND ALL DAT OH IM SO SICK. also this turned out shorter than expected but i still hope you like it wkrbnwnrdnke

cw: pregnant sex, mavuika is SO soft for her wife ngh, mavuika has a dick here because anon and i said so!

„shhhh… relax…“, mavuika cooed as she slowly slid you drenched panties down your legs before putting them away besides her. as if she was carefully unwrapping a birthday present. a pillow placed underneath your waist to prevent you from lying flat on your back, when you happened to be six months into your pregnancy, some things have to be handled differently after all. but the tenderness she handled you with caused your heart to race nonetheless.

„is it really okay for you…?“

„of course it is… my wife has needs that have to be fulfilled… what kind of spouse were i if i just ignored these?“, she gently squeezed the plush of your thighs before pushing them apart and you didn‘t miss out on glimmer of lust blitzing up in her eyes which she quickly blinked away.

your heart threatened to beat out of your chest as your swollen belly hindered your view on her boner when she started shedding out of her clothes.

„y-you know you don‘t have to for my sake…“

„but i want to, darling. my pregnant wife wishes for some relief, then that‘s exactly what i‘m gonna do.“, her tone was firm, she wanted this just as much as you did. keeping your legs gently parted for as she leaned forward until you felt the tip of her pressing against your needy pussy and you more or less swallowed her first two inches up accident. pregnancy did some wonders to you. but maybe it was just the fact that you watched her working out for a good three hours in front of your shared house, pretending to be awfully invested in a pregnancy guide.

the sudden intrusion caused your hand to find its way into her neck, a soft whimper escaping your lips. goodness, you almost forgot what it felt like and for the first time in months mavuika felt like she was loosing control over herself. hand coming up to get a gentle hold of your baby bulge, „my star… y-you feel so unbelievably amazing… c-can i-“

„mhm- p-please…“, urging her to push deeper into you by trying to scoot closer to her. she almost melted at the sight of her pregnant wife begging for her. immediately making sure to add inch by inch and you were so incredibly welcoming to her, so wet and ready for her and yet you were clenching around her so tightly. she might as well got accepted into heaven itself.

„atta girl… i‘m not going anywhere…“, goodness you‘re gonna come alone from her sultry tone if she continued talking to you like this.

no words needed to be spoken, your wife knew exactly what needed to be done.

she started moving slowly at first, dragging her cock out before pushing her hips back forward. your moans were practically all over the place. she was soft, so incredibly tender with you as she watched you melt over her gentle pace.

„look at you, sweetie… does it feel good enough for you…? you seem to enjoy it a lot…“, your wife reached a hand over to gently cup your cheek, stroking with her thumb over your cheekbone as she stared down at her whole world.

she never knew that she‘d one day be granted with a family of her own. that the 500 years of waiting will be paying her back in the form of a… baby. but mavuika was never one to complain. ever.

„f-feels amazing…“, you grabbed onto her other hand resting on your belly almost instinctively, interlacing your fingers, giving her a tight squeeze as if she were to slip out of your touch at any given moment. you couldn‘t handle it. her dick gently pumping in and out of you, the love in her eyes, the feeling of your wedding ring against her own. the fact that she is the mother of your child.

your orgasm was soft, so incredibly intense but you didn’t start shaking when you creamed over her in a soft moan. eyes squeezing shut before she bottomed out in a low moan and then her cum painted your insides.

it felt different than before, not in a bad way. a bit more… heavy, if that makes any sense.

„o-oh archons…. y-you’re perfect… you are so perfect, sweetheart…“, praises over praises spilling over her lips as she made sure to let you both calm down first. bending down to pepper soft kithes over your face, a strong hand running over the lower side of your swollen belly, she couldn’t keep them to herself nowadays. her hands always find their way to your baby bump, no matter where or when.

„e-exaggerating as always… n-now let me get on top…“, you patted her toned shoulders in order to signal her to get off of you.

„darling… don‘t you think you are getting a bit ahead of yourself…? you shouldn’t overdo it-”

„mavuika, let me get on top.“

and you always had the last word.

[revelboo]

Ok but why do we have the same music taste?? I didnt even entirely realise outsude of the I Fight Dragons songs at first but I listen to every single one of those

Great minds think alike 😅

Everything Is Alright Pt 130

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Servos pressing against his chassis over his spark chamber, it’s hard not to fixate on that fragile, little spark tangled in him. Something Megatron had never actually thought to want. Never allowed himself to even consider it as an option. But now that it’s happened? He just desperately wants to protect this. Remembering the feel of you drifting through him, that you’d felt like sunshine, bright and warm. Addictive. It’s not like he’d lied- the spark will need contact with you. Strengthening it by spark bonding again and again. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work, but the carrier is also supposed to keep the spark.

• Frustrated, he lets himself into the Constructicons’s habsuite looking for Hook and somehow isn’t the least bit surprised to see the biggest of them, Bonecrusher, leaning forward cooing at a little human sitting on his thigh as he offers them a package of some kind of human food. Because of course they’ve got a human, too. Suspects there’s more than a few of them smuggled aboard the Nemesis at this point. It’s the thing they’ve built against the wall that gets his attention, though. Bending slightly to study what they’ve done without his permission. And all of them are frozen, watching him. “What is this?” He asks, forgetting that he’d wanted to ask the medic about sparklings and spark bonds.

• Watching Scrapper come forward, hands away from his frame, Megatron resists the urge to smile at the mech’s obvious discomfort. ‘Just a little habitat. For the human.’ The Constructicon shrugs slightly even as he manages to look guilty. Putting himself between Megatron and his brothers, taking responsibility. ‘No one’s fraggin’ it,’ Scrapper adds as Bonecrusher curls his hand protectively around you. If the Constructicons aren’t fragging theirs, it’s probably just a matter of time until one of them tries to. What is it about humans that makes his troops lose all control? The interfacing can’t just be that good. But studying the little structure with its facilities, he can’t deny the Constructicons are onto something. Maybe you’d like something like this? “Can you build more of these?”

• Staring after his cassettes and their little human, Soundwave’s servos flex against you. Not wanting to give you up, wanting to spend time with you. Ask you to bond to him, do it right this time. Not deal with whatever is going on there. Rumbling when Starscream reaches to take you from him with a haughty, ‘looks like you’ve got a mess to deal with.’ And you look back at him as the Seeker carries you off, your expression making his spark ache. Because there’s always someone else needing him, demanding his time. So used to ignoring what he wants to look after everything else. And he just wants some time with you.

• Soundwave looks so lost, staring after you as Star carries you back to his habsuite. Just immediately sitting on his berth and mass shifting. Wrapping himself around you with a shuddering intake through his vents. And it’s the first time you’ve been alone with him since what he’d done. Since he’d stripped away Soundwave’s bond. Hurt you and Soundwave. “Why did you do it?” You ask, unable to just let it go as his servos run over you, like he’s checking for injuries. Reassuring himself that you’re okay.

• Denta gritting at the soft, hurt question, his wings flick. Because no answer is going to be good enough to excuse that. Doesn’t even know how to start making amends for it. Helm brushing your forehead so he can focus on those eyes he loves, he vents softly. “Jealousy. Fear,” he admits, gripping your arm when you try to lean away. “I thought I was losing you piece by piece. That I was being replaced.” Other hand cupping your cheek to keep you from turning away, his own optics shutter. Ashamed of what he’d done in a fit of jealous anger. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Our sparkling. You’re all I have.”

• That doesn’t make it better. Not by a long shot, but you’d driven him to this. Made him feel that Soundwave was replacing him. “I love Soundwave,” you say and those red optics open, leaning forward to stay pressed against him when he tries to lean back, you grab onto his shoulders. “And I love you. This is all really messed up and I know it.“ Unable to choose between them and accidentally hurting them both over and over. It’s all you, isn’t it? “I don’t know how to stop loving him.”

• And you sound so lost, pressing your face against his shoulder as he cups the back of your head. “I knew when I started falling in love with you, that this wouldn’t be easy. I tried to do what was right by you. To let you go and couldn’t even do that,” he growls, tucking you more firmly against him. “We’re both a bit fragged up.” Hears you snort at him as he forces your chin up. “Are you leaking again?” Venting affectionately, he brushes his mouth against your forehead. “We’ll figure this out together.”

Previous

[beatlblog]

i hope john bullied him (via @themagicalmysticalboy)

“Oi Paulie... wha’s on yer fookin face then?”#I hope John made fun of him#god#wtf (via @starseeker95)

#HELP#paul god what was that phase (via @mrlennonmccartney)

#if john still wanted him while paul looked like that it was true love#john's taste was so varied and dubious that i don't put it past him at all#but what a downgrade bc john looked great (via @stewy)

#hot take: this is the reason john decided not to work with paul after all#'if your music sounds anything like how your mustache looks i want no part of it' (via @paulnnccartney)

Knowing john he was like never mind my love you look so cute😍🙈😂 (via @mclennongirl15)

#i cannot imagine what was going through johns head when he saw him looking like that (via @harrisonism)

#imagine this outfit being the reason the beatles never got back together#john was like i'm gonna need about 6 years to forgive you for this 😂 (via @whoscruffylooking)

It’s okay because that look is 💯 on my wife.#I love that horrible facial hair#that first time drag king look (via @winston-legthigh)

#I feel like this is how John expected fashion disaster Paul to shown up#imagine just looking hot and hanging out by a pool#that’s them! (via @asphalt-cocktail)

#I respect it tho (via @lennons)

#john was just like ‘finally the inverse of all those years where I was pining and you looked amazing’#it’s just such a bad look#what WAS he thinking#definitely not what he needed to be which was ‘I look a complete twat’ (via @drivenalphabitchpaulmccartney)

2022

#the cunt paul is serving is like#fancy health food store cunt#but it's been expired for 3 years#it smells like fridge and patchouli and b vitamins and weed#john however is immaculate#god literally invented high waisted flares just for him#john and paul#my boygirlfriend john lennon#i would literally commit atrocities to know what john thought of how he looked here (via @wereonourwayhome)

#this actually changes everything i thought i understood about the 70s J&P vibe#also new questions arise about Paul's chest hair and the lack of it prior#only the important things#new podcast episodes#Paul's worst look and chest grooming#paul mccartney#john and paul#OH NEW HOT TAKE#this was 100% done intentionally to make sure they didn't bang#it was such a danger Paul took one for the team#and by took onei mean he prevented any taking from being done#dammit I'll probably write that fic#5 times John and Paul didn't bang (via @mydaroga)

#this is why he didn’t go to new orleans#:/ (via @goldslick)

SAD!

John Lennon, upon seeing Paul again in 1974 looking like that:

#john lennon#the beatles#shitposts#im sorry I thought of it then had to get it out (via @queerlennon)

#absolutely cursed#paul ruined his chances by choosing this moment to try a new form or drag that did NOT work for him (via @ahumoroussuggestion)

#absolutely dying#literally too much#the ultimate moment of seeing an ex who broke your heart after a few years and being like……oh#THAT’S who all the fuss was about???#(except from May’s account of that time it seems like the chemistry was still popping off somehow???)#which like talk about true love#being able to get past THAT#I kind of think that Paul was finding it fun to make himself look as gross as possible#relishing in it#after so many years of his looks being held up and scrutinized#to just be like oh yeah? watch this#kind of typical paulish rebellion (via @hands-across-the-skysky)

#divorce babe (via @pennielane)

#watching this post go through its villain arc has been such an experience great work guys#and by great work i mean im deleting tumblr (via @mystical-one)

He really has some balls, turning up like that.#mullet moustache and horrible thing on his chin#his fashion sense seemed to leave at the same time as Jane did#was he her Ken doll (via @beatlepaul4ever)

#honestly he still looks kinda hot#that wouldnt cure me (via @zutalorsihavemissedone)

Actually, it could maybe have been worse - he could have turned up with this look.

I can’t decide if it’s a real moustache or that horse face planted him in some muck. (via @beatlepaul4ever)

Why does he look like Paul Prenter? (via @bewareofdarkness)

#HBFJRBFHIRBFEKLFR#i think i would have just left#maybe that's why john thought he needed to be taken down a peg#'all you do is write love songs' like it was gonna hurt him#make him rethink his look#last time john hurt paul -- the man grew a beard (via @writertyper)

People ask why he didn’t go to San Francisco with him and the answer is this (via @yellowroombarine)

#this will forever make me mad at him#like this was the last photo documentation of them together#and that’s what he looked like#why (via @bridgeoverstrawberryfields)

#REAL#FELT#some tiger king bullshit💀#I’m kinda with it tho💀💀 (via @iamsigningmylifeaway)

2024

#fr WHO lied to paul and told him this is a good idea (via @comradeharrison)

#as someone who thinks that 70s paul is the most ethereal indescribably beautiful person in the world#he looked soooo like shit during their reunion im ctfu#the dash of beard. horrifying (via @bugpoasting)

#if you genuinely think that John wasn’t absolutely attracted to Paul’s hillbilly porn star look than idk what we’re doing here#that sun tan and rat stache 100% did it for him (via @lennonsfag)

#I understand where everyone’s coming from but you’re LYING to yourself if you think John wouldn’t be into that#It’s Paul fucking McCartney he could show up bald with a beard down to his shoulders and John would get all hot and bothered over it#Paul has nothing to worry abt so why not pull up to the function looking like a porn star with the white Karen capri pants and all (via @iwannabeyourman)

#I’m sorry but he literally looks insane#mostly thag hair sticking straight up (via @sleeper9)

#I still think that's such a power move on Paul's part to be honest#Is he sliding his index finger into the fold his wraparound vest there?#“I know you want me. Even like this”#Paul's arm hair#Paul's...chest hair?#paul mccartney#Meanwhile John's showing off his hips bulge & thighs in May's jeans#they deserved each other (via @crepesuzette2023)

#i imagine he immediately got cured of homosexuality#if not... john please. put your glasses on (via @estrangedfiances)

#nooo he was so into it#his prissy princess suddenly looks like he’s into complete filth#john’s wildest fantasies suddenly seem possible (via @goldslick)

#and john was cured of his life long crush as soon as he opened the door#i actually hate that the bottom one is the last known picture of them together (via @the-electric-monk)

#ok i think this moon is hot i’m SORRY#like he looks so slutty he knew exsctly what he was doing#open shirt? gay little mustache? shoulder length shag?#the chest hair?????#paul was trying to ensnare him fr (via @gayyytripper)

#scream#once again mccartney was ahead of his time (via @oldmanpusspuss)

#when your ex shows up looking like a cartoon evil man (via @bambi-kinos)

#this is Kurtis Conner lmaooo goodbye (via @maelwife)

#I mean you know… I’ve grown partial to his pornstache and yes even the mullet#so idk probably I would still dig it (via @tenitchyfingers)

#tbh it’s not a bad look but it’s ugly when he does it (via @strangebrew)

only ccurte tke

#normally i run screaming seeing 70s paul#but this look?#*chefs kiss#what a power move (via @consulting--defective)

#john y paul#jp en los 70s#pues si (via @akamy08wt)

#did he dress like that on purpose with the goal of attracting or scaring him? we will never know#im soft for paul 70s mullet not so much for the moustche (on any period) but the clothess#mclennon#you cant have 67 without 74 last meeting (via @alienoriana)

#I've always kinda liked the mullet (yes yes something's wrong with me)#but I just can't get behind the mustache on him. I'm sorry#I kinda unironically want that shirt too#at least it has colour unlike most of the stuff people try selling you these days (via @chut-je-dors)

#i can tell u now i am infact a bisexual who is infact attracted to this look#hes committed to the bit (via @mcstarr)

#I don’t think I can get over that little bit on the chin#and the mustache too but yeah that’s where I just I don’t think I can but… put me and him in the same room and I might feel differently#cause of his energy#his physical presence (via @johnisonlysleeping)

#predicted bisexual twink fashion (via @therealestwizard)

#I think the Only downfall is the Kind of mullet here that type of mullet is out#it has to be just a little shaggier#but otherwise yeah this is just some dude at a club now (via @menlove)

#KURTIS LMAAOO#its actually kind of horrendous but i couldnt do any better (via @xtreme-cringe)

#and anyway we all know john would be totally into it dont kid yourselves (via @oldmanpusspuss)

#I could never transition because this is what I would slowly animorph into (via @asurrogateblog)

#it is still not a look and ladies pls know i will never eve date a man with this moustache and that shirt#but op. you aint wrong (via @phonybeatlemania)

#it’s called ✨️fashion✨️#what was 70s fashion even#“fashion” according to mccartney (via @lilywolfgray)

Can you imagine being John Lennon in 1974, and you’re about to see your ex-best friend/pseudo husband/songwriting partner for the first time in years, plus its a really big moment cause you’re tentatively thinking about working with him again, then the motherfucker shows up looking like this unironically:

[dellamortethelesser]

The Wigmaker Job

Notes and Thoughts - Part 1

This quickly grew out of hand so this is only covering the first scene lol. This is my attempt to organize my thoughts nearly line-by-line as I go through and analyze the relationship between Lucanis and Illario. These are my personal opinions and I'm open to discussion about any points I present here.

From the first time we are introduced to Illario from Lucanis's perspective, it is… almost derogatory? (dressed how an Antivan would think a Vint would dress). i thought you trusted him to handle this job at a party?

"it's a job" / "a party at a job" / "any excuse to primp" ← This back and forth feels natural between siblings (or those who have a sibling relationship) but with wider context feels… a little icky

Already, Illario is disparaging himself in relation to Lucanis ("Only 'the Great Lucanis Dellamorte' could refuse a summons from the First Talon") and even he says he's only here because Lucanis asked him to be. why bring him if you ostensibly don't trust him to handle the job? Lucanis's inner pov is different from how he speaks to and acts with Illario.

of course Illario is generally thick-skinned until it comes to Caterina. so are you. she's abused you both and treats Illario undoubtedly worse because he's not the favorite.

re: Caterina's abuse as listed. no food or water. beat them with her cane until their backs were scarred for 'letting their guard down' or 'fumbling footwork'. Lucanis says she "beat into him his commitment to his contracts" (re: veilguard banter where he didn't kill that 14 year old. lying? or proof of further favoritism?)

"For years, he'd hated her…" and then goes on to say that he'd learned that her cruelty was her way of ensuring their survival. Notably this isn't forgiveness but an acknowledgment of what she'd done and how it benefited them as assassins, which I would argue that it did. Child abuse is bad but I think she did prepare them both for the world they were being raised into as assassins.

"Beneath the bitterness in Illario's tone was something rotten." ← KEY LINE TO ME. Why point out how rotten it is unless he… already suspected Illario's resentment? Jealousy? He can identify the bitterness bc Caterina won't step aside, but also. ROTTEN.

"your time will come" / "will it?" ← Lucanis watching Illario watch him in the mirror. Really interesting moment because this is where Illario reminds him that Lucanis is the favorite. Lucanis goes on to say that he KNOWS this and has HEARD the rumors and still tries to assure Illario that his time would come.

"So, if she named you heir to House Dellamorte, you'd refuse?" ← really interesting thing to note here is that Illario is asking about being named as HEIR. Lucanis doesn't answer, they're interrupted, but "heir" doesn't hold the same weight as 'first talon".

they're not arguing who gets the role, they're arguing over who is even in line for it? so you mean to tell me that Caterina has been stringing them along like this… the whole time? Just name a fucking heir for fucks sake. the older one at least! if this was set up from childhood there would be way less room for jealousy and competition, or it would at least be clear WHO would be in line.. that being said I do believe she either did this on purpose. There's just no other excuse. Caterina what if you died the next day. they'd still have to fucking fight it out! (or maybe Lucanis would finally feel brave enough to absolve himself).

maybe that's it though? it's a test right? this whole fucking thing…. man.

"Illario's pretty-boy mask slipped as a coldness flooded his features." ← would have loved to see more of this in Veilguard. Regardless of whether you think Illario's writing is consistent between the books and the game, you're kidding yourself if you tell me he wasn't written operatically obvious in Veilguard. here there is more of a level of calculation and concealment? unless you want me to believe that his behavior was obvious to everyone except Lucanis… not discounting that reading of their relationship, just disagreeing with it personally.

Skipping ahead in to the fight scene, we see that Lucanis is living up to his name as the Mage-Killer as he pretty handily dispatches their assailant. Illario takes on more of the charmer role, tying up the mage—but then Lucanis immediately kills him. Why even let Illario do all of that work if you're just going to kill him?!

He even comments on it. "If I'd known you were just going to kill him, I wouldn't've put so much effort into the knots." ← Lucanis tells him after this to check his pockets and finds a note that does, admittedly, reveal the Venatori allegiance. That being said… you still could've killed him and got the same note. Unless it was just because he was a mage? But he was already dazed at that point. Why waste the time?! It's so maddening. This is the first of many instances where Lucanis sort of… bulldozes over Illario.

As Lucanis is removing the blade—"Careful, remember the tanner job? You ruined my best shirt." Kind of prissy behavior (Illario takes two steps back away from the blood), but when his cousin protests, Lucanis just… smirks and continues to extract the blade. If I'm reading this generously it could be simple sibling-esque banter, but Lucanis is not the sort to be readily endearing himself to Illario at any point.

Illario remarks that the Venatori's fanaticism re: nationalism and theology regarding the Black City isn't "worth it" (so he doesn't like the Venatori much either, mark that down?).

Lucanis says that it's because Illario isn't "a true believer—except when it comes to coin". My first thought is to think of Zara Renata's corpse conversation in Veilguard when she remarks that what Illario wanted, he wanted more than power, family, coin, etc etc.

So Lucanis's perception is that Illario is the sort of man who'd do anything for money (as the House of Crows is KNOWN TO DO, YOU KILL PEOPLE. FOR MONEY), and it matches up with his opinions previously established in regards to Illario's dress, motivations, mannerisms, etc. That Illario is… kind of a pretty-boy charmer who is only worried about coin and good clothes.

Hm. All bodes well on the Cain & Abel front.

RE: the true believer statement. Worth pointing out that the House of Crows was first established by Andrastian monks in the hills outside of Treviso; they assassinated a duke. Would love to have learned more as to whether there was more religious influences in the guild at any point.

Quotes are either paraphrased or taken directly from The Wigmaker Job, written by Courtney Woods.

[ranhaitanisbitch]

movie night with mammon

-mammon x gn!reader

cw: just sweet

synopsis: mammon invited you over for a movie marathon

a/n: hope you like it! i feel like i should make a part two of this. i'm open to suggestions, requests for other one-shots and constructive criticism. don't hesitate to reach out ^_^

word count: about 900

Mammon doesn't remember the last time his room had looked this clean. He had spent the whole afternoon picking up clothes from the floor, sorting stuff, cleaning the floor and doing stuff he had never done before. Absurd stuff like wiping the back of his bed's headboard. He knows nobody cares about the back of his headboard, but somehow he has the urge to have everything in perfect condition. After all you are coming over. Maybe he was doing too much, but he wants to impress you. Yesterday Mammon found out you had never seen a single Harrison Porter movie in your life, so of course, being the fan he was, he invited you over to a Harrison Porter movie marathon. He was excited to say the least. It's not like you had never been to his room before, but this felt more like a date than a casual movie night.

Wait- did you think of this as a date too? Or was this really just a movie night between friends for you? Of course Mammon didn't actually call it a date when he had invited you over. If he remembers correctly he said something along the lines of, "Of course a mere human wouldn't know about  stuff like that. Let the great Mammon show ya some good stuff". You had rolled your eyes at that, but you had agreed. 

Mammon takes a last look around his room and suddenly feels a nervous feeling taking over. What if you actually did see this as a normal hangout between friends and thought the cleanliness of his room was suspicious... Mammon usually never cleans his room to this extent and you know that. He opens his laundry basket and throws a singular dirty sock in the middle of the room. There, casual atmosphere restored. Now that this problem is taken care of, all he has to do is wait for you. 

There's an anxious tingle in Mammon's chest when he hears a soft knock on his bedroom door. "Come in!", he shouts and wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans. As he hears your feet shuffle along the floor he turns around to face you and immediately regrets it. You're already wearing your pajamas which consist of only a tanktop and some shorts. The demon blushes and turns around again hoping you haven't noticed the red color that is now tinting his cheeks. “I brought some snacks”, you smile and sit down on the couch right next to Mammon. “Yeah, yeah… put ‘em on the table”, the demon tries to appear as nonchalant as possible, which seems to be impossible with you so close to him. Your legs aren’t even touching, but he can still feel the heat coming from your thigh next to his and he has to resist the urge to reach out and feel some more of your body heat. He decides to start the movie instead. 

A few minutes into the movie you try to get more comfortable on the couch and shift around. You end up half laying half sitting leaning on Mammon’s shoulder. What you don’t seem to notice is his breathing becoming slightly uneven while he tries to hide the fact that he is getting excited. “Damn clingy human”, is all he mutters as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into him even more.

By the third movie the demon notices you getting tired when your eyelids keep falling shut. You desperately try to keep them open and pay attention since you know how much Mammon loves those movies, but the more you try to fight it the sleepier you get. You’re so focused on pleasing Mammon that you don’t even notice that he hasn’t been paying attention to the movie himself. Not one second. The only thing that occupies his mind is you, how good your body feels pressed to his and how cute you look as you try not to fall asleep. The whole duration of the three movies he sneaked secret glances at you and admired your reactions to the scenes instead of watching them himself. He gently nudges you, “hey… it’s time to go to bed.” You whine. “But we haven’t even finished the third movie yet.” Mammon chuckles at your sleepy whines. “It’s okay. We can watch it another time.” That means you two will have some more movie nights, Mammon thinks with a giddy smile. “You should really head to bed now. You can barely keep your eyes open.” You groan in annoyance, but get up anyway. The demon already expects you to head to the door when you suddenly plop down on his bed. Even though he had wished for you to stay, he expected you to head back to your room after the movie marathon since it was only down the hall. Now he thanks whoever had heard his prayer and granted him his wish. “Mammooon! I’m cold”, you whine and pull him down on the bed with you. He smiles and lets you cling to his torso like a sloth. After a few minutes your breathing becomes more even and Mammon is sure you’ve fallen asleep. He kisses the top of your head gently, “good night, human.”

[gold-onthe-inside]

blind date

who? spencer reid (s8) x blake!reader summary: you finally give into your godmother's insistence on going on a date with her colleague, if only to get her off your back, and find yourself having to break the heart of someone who could have been the love of your life. content warnings: not a happy ending (i warned you, you don't get to yell at me), reader is blake's goddaughter and a therapist. word count: 2.1k

You let out a slow breath before entering the restaurant, smoothing down your dress, still second-guessing your outfit - a purple dress matched with a dark velvet jacket and a black purse with a gold chain belt - as if you hadn’t spent your day looking up what women in their 30s wore on first dates. Not like it matters, you told yourself. You’d get through the date, politely tell the guy that he was great but you weren’t interested, and hopefully be home by 10pm. You turn your gaze to the maitre’d, telling him the table was under Reid’s name.

You had told yourself on the way that you couldn’t hold it against him if he was late — you still remember the coffee meetings your own godmother never turned up to — but it turned out he was earlier than you. Where you showed up to everything ten minutes in advance, he showed up twenty-five minutes.

You saw him first, looking into the silver ware and flattening down his hair and adjusting his tie, clearly nervous, looking up when he heard you thank the maitre’d. Spencer almost stumbled over himself as he stood up to pull your chair out for you and you feel an overwhelming urge to reassure him. “H-Hi,” he said, matching your awkward smile. “You look really nice.”

“Thanks,” you said softly, taking the seat and watching him take his, his hand splayed against his chest to keep his tie back. “You’re taller than I thought you’d be.”

His laugh is nervous, God help him, and he corrects the displaced silverware so they align perfectly before he looked at you again. “I, uh, I get that a lot.”

“Go on a lot of blind dates then?” you asked, sipping the water within reach, and you can see panic flash across his face.

“No! I mean, I’ve-I’ve been on dates before. Just um—” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I meant I get the-the height thing, quite a bit. Not that there’s been a lot—”

“Breathe, Spencer,” you feel compelled to say as his face flushes. You’d meant to tease, not give the man a heart attack.

“Sorry,” he murmured, trying to get a grip on himself. God, how did Derek do this? “Um… Blake, sorry, Alex, told me that you’re a therapist,” he said, focusing on something concrete.

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, not sure how much information you wanted to tell him. Though, to be fair, he was a federal agent. He could have it found out anyway. “I work at a clinic in Georgetown,” you said, folding your hands in front of you and overthinking whether you should be crossing your legs or not. This was usually the point where the guy would ask if you could read his mind, or attempt to educate you on how mental health was a sham and everyone just needs to get some exercise, and that would be your cue to fake an emergency exit. Maybe you’d get home in time to watch some decent TV.

“Is it hard?” he asked, taking a sip of water before he leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest. It was endearing, and surprising.

“It can be,” you answered, leaning in slightly. “Some days you get really, really good sessions, you know? And other days it’s…”

“Hell?” he offered and you let out a small huff.

“Try having a seven year old drawing on furniture with chalk,” you told him, watching him wince.

“I, uh… have a confession,” he said, leaning even closer, his voice a dramatic whisper. “I did that as a kid.”

"Understimulated in class, huh?" you asked, smiling at him a little more.

“A lot,” he admitted. “I learned to read very young, and… well, then everyone wanted me to read, and it wasn’t as fun anymore, you know?”

“Mm,” you say in agreement, but before you continue, the waiter comes, and you both order a glass of wine, and appetizers to split. “So, you must be dealing with a lot worse than pre-pubescent vandalism, right?” you asked, pulling apart the fried mozzarella balls with delicate precision, and you watch him think for a moment.

“I’m just trying to decide if the last case we worked would be preferable to handling a toddler, and I honestly think I’d prefer the serial killer,” he said thoughtfully and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you.

"Yeah, no, I don't blame you," you replied, sipping your wine.

“What about you?” he asked between bites. “Did you know you wanted to be a psychologist from day one?”

"Uh... No, I actually thought I would go into linguistics, like Alex, but somewhere around my first year into undergrad, I realised that psychology was my calling," you said.

“What changed your mind?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and leaning his elbow on the table. You liked the way he gave you his full attention; his eyes hadn’t strayed from you since you’d gotten there.

“Uh, we used to have to do these case studies and we’d do these role plays where everyone had a presenting concern to work with, and I used to get this… high whenever I’d figured the client out. Like that moment where everything just… clicks into place. And I got addicted to it,” you said, your words and love for your job captivating.

“I know exactly what you mean,” he said, his smile widening. “I’m sure Alex’s told you that I have an… impressive memory. The cases we work on-the ones they don’t put in our files on purpose-I remember every single piece of information. It’s like the details don’t leave me. So when we finally catch the unsubs, the-the serial killers…” His voice lowers, leaning further over the table to you and he’s so close, you can almost smell his cologne. “That’s when it clicks.”

You stared at him for a beat, like everything else in the world had gone still, his soft hazel eyes looking affectionately into yours, and then the waiter comes over and the bubble between you two pops, springing apart like two teenagers being walked in on. You can see the flush come over his skin, just as the waiter places his plates in front of him, and focus on ordering your dinner, Spencer agreeing to whatever you ordered.

“So,” you started as the waiter left, and you could see the hint of a smile cross his lips. “Spencer, what do you do for fun?”

He hums a little, thinking. “I read, obviously, and I play poker, although I think half the team suspects I’m counting cards.” He leans forward. “Don't tell them, but I am.”

“You can count cards?” you asked, looking at him in disbelief.

He tilts his head to the side, and he looks like some kind of adorable dog, and your cheeks flush a little darker. “Is it that surprising?” Spencer asks. “I mean, if you know the math, it’s-“ He seems to stumble a little, like he’s worried he’ll bore you with the explanation.

“Keep going,” you prompt him, interested.

“I mean, it’s not foolproof,” he starts, the words flowing quickly from him. “You can’t really predict probability with any certainty. It’s just… really good guessing.” He smiles proudly. “I’m actually banned from a few casinos in Vegas.”

You sipped your wine, shaking your head. "You've gotta teach me how, cause I swear, Alex beats me every time."

“You play poker?” Spencer asked, and you nodded, taking another sip of wine. “Of course, you do,” he added, smiling. “You’re perfect,” he blurted, then started, his face flushing a deep colour.

You could fall in love with this man if you let yourself, and it’s a scary thought. Alex hadn’t been kidding when she said that Spencer was perfect for you. Then why was there this horrible pit in your stomach, like an anvil hovering over you?

The rest of the dinner went perfectly, Spencer pulling out your chair for you as you both prepared to leave. The air was crisp, just a little chilly — spring wasn’t quite ready to fully come out of hiding yet. There was a certain energy between you both; a sense of hope you had long forgotten, and as he walked you to your car, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking up and meeting his eyes.

You'd felt this way before... four years ago when you met the man you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with, and suddenly, the idea of going through that again... It scared the living daylights out of you. "This was really nice," you managed, looking at him.

“It was,” he agreed, his hands shoving into his pockets. “I’d like to see you again.” He said it casually, but his eyes betrayed him, like he was afraid you were going to refuse.

You swallowed, reminding yourself to take a breath. "Spencer, you're... really great. I mean, seriously, any girl would be lucky to go out with you," you said slowly. "But if I'm honest... I only came out tonight to get Alex off my back."

You can see the way it crushes him; the light in his eyes dimming. His shoulders drop and his head lowers, and you feel a wave of guilt overcome you, but your feet stay rooted to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he said, but you know his words are meant more for his own failings than for you - you can see it in his body language, how he’s withdrawing into himself. What you expect is for him to walk away; instead, he looks back up at you, and you feel your heart break as your eyes meet his pained ones.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," you said softly. "I should never have..." You took a sharp breath. "I like you, Spencer. A lot, probably more than I'm ready for. But I just got out of a long-term relationship. I'm not ready to jump into another one, especially with someone who... who deserves a lot more."

“I-I don’t mind taking things slow,” he said, his voice soft as his eyes searched your face, and you knew he was telling you the truth. But he doesn’t deserve to be some kind of… emotional training wheels for you, as you work through a bad breakup. He deserves more than you’ve got to offer.

"Of course you don't," you said, with a tinge of fondness. "You're perfect."

"I think I'm far from perfect," he says, with a self-deprecating grin. "But I'd be happy to be, um... whatever it is you're ready for."

You don't want to say it, but he's really, really, really hard to say 'No' to, and the fact he was so genuine in wanting to be around you made your heart clench. You wanted to say 'yes' so desperately.

Maybe you should say 'yes'. Just to see what happens.

"It's a bad idea," you said reluctantly, your resolve crumbling.

"But it might be just what you need," Spencer said, and he's right - you hate it but you can feel the way he's pulling you in. The way those hazel eyes hold you; the way you just want to spend more time with him.

A mistake, you think to yourself, just as his hand slides down, his fingers slotting with yours. A glorious mistake.

"I don't want to do that to you," you murmured, even though all you wanted to do was kiss him and take him home and ruin him.

"Please," he murmured, stepping just a little closer, as if you had any resolve left at this point. "I'm a big boy. I can make that decision for myself."

The way he stepped so close to you made your skin tingle, and something deep within you tightened, and you were sure that Spencer could see it in your eyes. Your free hand lifted, sliding along his cheek. "I can't," you said, thumb gliding against his cheekbone. "I'm sorry."

Spencer stepped back, and you watch the way his face falls, your hand falling away to your side, but he nods, and the part of you that wasn't ready for this, was happy you'd made that decision. That he would stay safe and away from you - but then he leaned down, and before you can process what it was, he presses a warm kiss to your cheek. "I had a really nice time, tonight," Spencer murmured, and you can hear the sound of his footsteps leave before you can get your mouth to work again.

"Me too," you murmured into the air, sinking against your car, wondering if you'd just made the biggest mistake of your life, letting him slip through your fingers.

[meadowfics]

delicious meal

kang sae-byeok x smallbusinessowner!reader

waiter!kang dae-ho as well ;)

another part in my "small business owner" series for sae-byeok

warnings: one spicy pg-13 moment but that's it.

this is a rare moment of nerves for sae-byeok.

she keeps adjusting her jacket sleeves, shifting in her seat slightly as she takes in the lavish decor of the restaurant.

the dim lighting, the crystal chandeliers, the waitstaff in neatly pressed uniforms..it all feels foreign to her.

it is foreign to her.

you notice the way her fingers twitch on the edge of the table, and without a word, you slide your hand over hers, squeezing lightly.

"are you nervous?"

you tease softly, your voice laced with warmth.

sae-byeok scoffs, rolling her eyes, but the slight pink dusting her cheeks betrays her.

"no,"

she lies.

"why would i be nervous? i'm just… not used to places like this."

sae's eyes flicker around the restaurant, catching glimpses of other diners in elegant outfits, sipping wine with an ease she doesn’t feel.

before you can respond, your waiter approaches, placing utensils neatly in front of both of you.

he’s young, maybe around your age, with neatly styled dark hair and a welcoming smile.

"hello, my name is kang dae-ho, but please just call me dae,"

he says smoothly.

"i'll be taking care of you guys tonight. can i get you started with any drinks?"

you glance at sae-byeok, giving her the opportunity to order first, but she just nods toward you.

"good evening, dae. i’ll have a lemonade,"

you say, smiling.

"just water for me,"

sae-byeok adds quickly, her voice quieter than usual.

dae nods, scribbling on his notepad.

"great choice. i’ll be right back with those."

as soon as he walks away, you lean in slightly.

"you could’ve gotten something else, you know. you don’t have to just get water."

sae-byeok shrugs, adjusting her leather jacket sleeve again.

"it’s fine. you know i don’t really care about drinks like that."

dae-ho returns quickly, setting down your lemonade and her water.

"ready to order?"

"yes. tonight I'll just have the bibimbap,"

you say, and without missing a beat, sae-byeok says,

"same."

dae-ho grins.

"twins, huh?"

he jokes, but sae-byeok just snorts.

when he walks away, you smirk.

"so, a copycat, huh?"

sae-byeok giggles softly, shaking her head.

"excuse me? i put you onto bibimbap. remember?"

"you did,"

you admit,

"but you didn't have to copy my order."

you tease.

in fact, you love how similar you and sae are.

"why change what works?"

she shrugs, leaning back in her chair, looking a little more relaxed now.

you love moments like this..

moments when her guard is down, when she’s just sae-byeok, not the girl who’s always had to fight for everything.

you take a sip of your lemonade, watching her as she absentmindedly runs a finger along the rim of her glass.

after a beat, you ask,

"so… any updates on your mom?"

sae-byeok glances up, hesitating for only a second before nodding.

"yeah. the broker found her. she’s going to cross the chinese border soon."

you sit up a little, taking in the weight of her words.

"really? that’s good, right?"

"it is,"

she says, though there’s something in her tone that tells you she’s trying not to get her hopes up too much.

"once she gets closer to the thailand border, i’ll figure out a way to meet her and bring her over here."

you nod slowly, letting her lead the conversation.

"that’s huge, sae. i know how much this means to you."

she exhales, staring at her water for a moment before looking back at you.

"it’s been six months, you know."

"since…?"

you tilt your head, teasing.

"since we got together,"

she mutters, rolling her eyes.

you grin.

"you keeping track now?"

"shut up,"

she mumbles, but there’s no real bite behind it.

you reach for her hand again, this time letting your thumb trace over her knuckles.

"i’m really happy with you," you say simply.

she looks down at your hands, quiet for a moment before murmuring,

"i know. I am too with you."

you don’t push for anything more...you never do.

you’ve already told her you love her, and though she hasn’t said it back, you feel it in the way she looks at you.

in the way she saved up for this dinner, in the way she always makes sure you get home safe after a long shift.

the fact that she is taking you to this fancy place, and paying for it, shows that sae is someone who would rather tell you her love through her actions.

sae-byeok pulls her hand away, only to reach for her water and take a sip before clearing her throat.

"i still feel bad, you know. about… taking your money that day."

you shake your head immediately.

"you don’t have to. you were trying to help cheol. if anything, i was going to spend that money on you anyway."

you smirk, aware of your gift-giving love language.

sae-byeok gives you a flat look.

"that’s not how that works."

"it is for me,"

you argue lightly.

"you know i love buying you things."

sae-byeok sighs but can’t fight the small smile tugging at her lips.

"yeah, i know."

you smile back, squeezing her hand again before letting go when you see dae-ho approaching with your food.

he approaches your table.. carefully placing the bowls of bibimbap in front of you and sae-byeok.

the aroma immediately fills the space between you, making your stomach grumble slightly.

"everything look good?"

dae-ho asks, glancing between the two of you with an easy smile.

"yeah, it looks great,"

you say, already reaching for your chopsticks.

"it’s good,"

sae-byeok adds, inspecting her dish before nodding in approval.

dae-ho grins at the both of you before stepping back.

"perfect. enjoy your meal."

with that, he walks off to check on another table.

just as you’re about to dig in, sae-byeok suddenly lets out a quiet laugh, shaking her head slightly.

you blink, confused.

"what’s so funny?"

she smirks, leaning in just a little.

"i think someone has a crush on you."

you furrow your brows, tilting your head.

"what?"

sae-byeok subtly nods her head toward dae-ho, who is now assisting another table.

the korean's eyes gleam with mischief, watching for your reaction.

you roll your eyes playfully, shaking your head.

"sae, he's just doing his job."

"he better be,"

she replies with a smirk, her tone low and possessive, which sends a wave of warmth to your cheeks.

oh, sae-byeok can be so possessive in the best way.

"sae-byeok,"

you say, a teasing lilt in your voice as you smirk at her.

"you know i am only yours."

sae's expression shifts slightly, something deeper, something smug yet sincere showing in her dark eyes.

"yeah?"

she murmurs, the tension in her voice sending a small shiver down your spine.

"yeah,"

you confirm, rubbing her calf with your foot under the table.

sae-byeok smirks while taking a bite of her food, clearly pleased, and it encourages you to finally start eating as well.

the conversation flows effortlessly after that.

sae-byeok is attentive, constantly checking to make sure you think the food is perfect, even though she knows you’d never complain.

all she wants is for this night to go smoothly, for it to be something you remember.

when dae-ho comes back, you’re about to shake your head and refuse dessert, but sae-byeok insists, her voice firm yet gentle.

"we're getting bingsu."

you give her a look, amused.

"oh, we are?"

"yes,"

she says simply.

dae-ho watches as you gently grab sae-byeok’s hand across the table, rubbing her knuckles in a way that speaks volumes.

you don’t even notice his expression shift slightly as realization settles in

he now understands that you and sae-byeok are together.

he doesn’t mind, not at all. he never had a crush on you...he was just doing his job.

however he’s accepting in a society who could look at your relationship as taboo.

he offers a small, genuine smile before nodding.

"i’ll be right back with that,"

dae-ho says before walking away.

when he returns, he sets down one dish with two spoons, the shaved ice dessert looking absolutely perfect.

"enjoy,"

dae-ho says with a polite nod.

"thanks,"

sae-byeok replies, grabbing her spoon first.

you both try the bingsu, the cold, sweet flavor hitting your tongue in the best way possible.

you widen your eyes, looking at sae-byeok, who already has a similar reaction.

"oh my god,"

you say.

"this is the best bingsu i’ve ever had."

sae-byeok nods, already taking another bite.

"yeah. this was a good choice."

after finishing, sae-byeok reaches for the check before you can even think about grabbing it.

"wait, are you sure?"

you ask, watching her carefully.

"yes,"

she insists, her voice leaving no room for argument.

the bill is a little high for her standards, but she saved for this.

she planned for this.

she wants to do this for you.

after she pays, the two of you step outside into the cool night air.

the breeze feels nice against your skin, and as you walk, sae-byeok stays close beside you.

she glances at you, taking in the sight of your dark olive green sweater, your brown maxi-length skirt.

oh, she is so in love with you.

before you can take another step, she gently grabs your waist, pulling you into a soft embrace.

you instinctively wrap your arms around her shoulders, inhaling the familiar scent of her vanilla perfume.

she looks into your eyes, and for once, there is no hesitation.

"do you know how much i love you?"

sae-byeok asks, her voice quiet but firm, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

your lips curl into a small smile before you tease,

"how much do you love me?"

sae-byeok doesn’t answer with words.

instead, she leans in, pressing her lips against yours in a slow, lingering kiss.

when she finally pulls away, she breathes,

"i love you so much, y/n."

your heart swells at the words you've waited to hear, but deep down, you've known it all along.

more of the small business owner series coming soon

full masterlist here

[iandarling]

Shark Week

“Cmon man, you’re gonna miss it” Mickey shouts from the living room

“It’s the first episode man, it’s ok if i miss the first five minutes” Even so, Ian hurries with the dishes before running into the living room. He jumps down onto the couch next to his husband.

Ian had, thankfully, insisted on buying one of those pull-out-couches (perfect for when guests stay over) (what fucking guests, gallagher?!) (idk, liam maybe?), and now they regularly pull the couch out at night when they’re eating dinner and watching tv. With more space, their legs intertwine, Ian places a hand on Mickeys naked thigh, squeezing a bit.

They’re watching Shark Week

Mickey is in his boxers and a grey tank top, pizza in his left hand, beer in the other and sauce on his chin. He’s watching gleefully as the shark rips apart a seal, “Badass motherfuckers”

Ian is so in love with him it hurts.

Mickey grins at him and Ian is tempted to reach over and lick the sauce off his face. His husband is fucking hot, sue him.

Of course Ian is unable to resist it and leans over and licks Mickeys chin, earning a confused look back “Fuck you do that for?”

Totally unembarrased Ian smiles “you had ranch on your face”. Mickey rolls his eyes “oh yeah? guess you’re used to licking white stuff off my body”

Grabbing another slice of pizza Ian finally turns to watch the screen. “I do feel bad for the seal though, I mean it’s so small and defenceless”

“Just like you”

“Ay fuck you, I’m not small and defenceless. I’m 6’2 with army training, bitch” Ian playfully shoves his shoulder into Mickey’s.

“So why did I have to protect you all the time in prison then huh, bitch?”

“Oooh, so that’s what that was? I thought you were just claiming me and marking your territory”. Ian raises an eyebrow

“Fucking duh! Had to let all ‘a those assholes know you’re fucking mine”

“So what, you’re the great white shark in this scenario and I’m the seal?” Now Ian is a little confused about Mickeys thought process, but intrigued nonetheless

“Yup. You’re pretty like one too, all smooth skin and freckles” Mickey is entirely too happy with this conversation

- - - - - later that evening - - - - - -

“You got garlic breath man” Mickey mumbles into their kiss

“I’d rather have dick breath” Ian moves down, pulling Mickeys hard dick out of his boxers. “Just eat your pizza and enjoy your shark show while I suck you off”

Mickey is in heaven “Fuckin’ love married life man”

[mymoshangthoughts]

aight so

moshang modern reincarnation au

so in their og life, things didnt go that different from pidw. obvs airplane's behavior was a lot different from og!qinghua, but he straight up just didnt know the key to survive as mobei jun's minion. basically, og!qinghua woulda prolly died even if he WAS a super great and loyal servant due to the circumstances. and airplane wasnt even a super great and loyal servant. without the foreknowledge that crossing mobei jun would be an absolutely fatal affair, he just did whatever he thought maximized his chances for survival. he had no reason to think that mobei jun would be a more dependable ally than an entire fucking sect, absolutely no reason to like mobei jun despite the frequent beatings, no reason to have a nuanced understanding or sympathy for demons, and no foreknowledge that there would be an upcoming war. he did sorta try to play both sides, kinda looking for who had the best thighs to cling to. he DID have a 'onesided' affection for mobei jun, but he also understood that his feelings were irrational, the violent demon clearly hated his guts, and even if he did have a chance there was no future for demon/human relationships. so he was too hyper logical to surrender himself to those feelings and never admitted to them

meanwhile mobei jun also did develop feelings for airplane, but he never found a way to express those feelings that airplane understood. to top it off, airplane being generally disloyal and duplicitous was a srs trigger for all his uncle issues (someone else who he'd loved so dearly and who had betrayed him at every turn)

so eventually it comes to mobei jun killing shang qinghua. they're both really fucking upset about it. airplane bc he'd like not to die, thank you, but also bc having the guy you like murder your ass is a special breed of heartbreak. mobei jun feels he has no choice, but after the deed is done, he's completely broken over it and is felled in battle not long after. it's debatable whether he was distracted by heartbreak or just no longer cared to protect his own life

SO reincarnation

modern times, the convenience of the internet, and demons are now a thing of myth. airplane doesnt have any memories of his past life persay, but he does have dreams and kinda faint memories, that he chalks up to his own overactive imagination. it seems like it'd make for a great story, so he starts jotting down stuff he remembers to use in a novel. the novel isnt really accurate to his memories, but a lot of the core events remain the same

mobei jun remembers but doesnt really believe it. his memories are a lot clearer than airplane's, but it still feels like remembering a dream. he's not even in denial, he's honestly never even considered the possibility that the incongruent memories are of a past life. it's too fantastical for starters, with demons and cultivators and all sorts of crazy nonsense, so even tho he can fairly clearly remember an entire other lifetime, he kinda just dismisses it and ignores it

especially because he hates remembering the end bits. the sharp pain of murdering a person he loved really fucks with him. but also he doesnt even really relate to the feelings of his past-life self. to him, a human who grew up with human rules and human logic, he has a "ofc the dude would hate you and backstab you, you're literally a domestic abuser???" type of reaction to a lot of the nonsensical demonic culture nonsense. due to the emotional disconnect of being unable to relate to his demonic past life, it's even harder for him to consider that person as himself. if he were really pressed to explain the events he remembered, he'd prolly assume "some dumb cartoon i watched as a kid maybe". the emotions are still sharp and painful, but he's filled with ridicule for his own past actions. also just generally "ya know, if you loved him, WHY MURDER HIM IDIOT??" bc mobei jun has no appreciation for tragic irony

anyway, one day mobei jun starts hearing about a new popular webnovel and he's not that much of a reader of this specific genre, but he starts hearing lil snippets that sound like his own memories and he's like "oh maybe this is the novel that im remembering" except when he looks it up, it's way too new for it to be that. so now mobei jun is thinking plagiarism and he's kinda hellbent to figure out which work this "airplane" asshole was plagiarizing but now he really can't find anything anywhere.

which doesnt make sense. he remembers a lot of the events within this novel SO CLEARLY and has for the majority of his life, but no matter how hard he searches, this novel seems to be the only source of those familiar plot lines

so he's gotta read the whole thing, right? figure out some clues? maybe send some comments calling the author out on his plagiarism to see if he cracks?

and look, it's really not THAT important, but somehow mobei jun just can't let this go. especially when the novel starts distorting events. IMPORTANT events. like shang qinghua in the novel is just way more of a scummy villain aND IT WASNT LIKE THAT AT ALL

mobei jun has gone his whole fucking life thinking of shang qinghua as some sort of tragic character who suffered until he broke, someone who was beaten by the man who loved him before being murdered by that same man, and now THIS ASSHOLE is painting shang qinghua as this two-dimensional canon fodder villain. and mobei jun's character has also gotten a serious glam up??? LIKE THE NOVEL IS ACTUALLY FRAMING THE MURDER AS A GOOD AND RIGHTEOUS THING THAT MOBEI JUN DID???? mobei jun is a beloved sidekick of the main character and basically gets presented as constantly cool and cold and smart and THAT'S ALL WRONG, THIS STUPID AUTHOR CLEARLY DIDNT UNDERSTAND MOBEI JUN'S CHARACTER AT ALL!!! mobei jun was stupid and scared and traumatized and lashed out in dumb ways and lost to his own pride all the damn time and never bothered to understand human courting rituals or grasp they might be different than demon courting rituals and died pathetically becuase he never bothered to understand himself properly AND BASICALLY KILLED HIMSELF BC HE COULDNT HANDLE LIFE W/O SHANG QINGHUA, WHY THE FUCK WAS THIS FUCKER HAVING MOBEI JUN SHRUG OFF THAT PIVOTAL MOMENT LIKE IT MEANT NOTHING TO HIM?!?! DIDNT HE UNDERSTAND HOW AGONIZINGLY PAINFUL IT HAD BEEN?! WHAT KIND OF GARBAGE FANFICTION IS THIS?! THIS FUCKING HACK OF AN AUTHOR!!

so maybe, just maybe, mobei jun has started to get into fights with the author. arguing about interpretations of his characters and stupid decisions and basically known in the forum as "that one really weird shang qinghua stannie who srsly woobified that canon fodder villain". other people fight him too, but mobei jun is primarly focused on This Fucking Author

airplane, meanwhile, is FURIOUS over this mobei jun hater that keeps cropping up in his comments. look. he's not about to ban the guy. he drums up good drama with his STUPID comments and also hater money is as good as anyone elses, but airplane isnt used to having a person try to bash his fav. mobei jun is... special. and he's not gonna have this twobit virgin of a creepy shang qinghua fan DARE to besmirch mobei jun's name and he will make as many alts as he needs to win this argument! but also he's willing to get the word of god involved! fuck it! he'll revive shang qinghua for a chapter just to have mobei jun kill the weasel again!

and look, neither of them are being sane about this, but they just feel Really Impassioned about their opinions oki

so next hmmm

A) meet at a con (either a signing or w/o knowing who the other is)

B) meet in real life, maybe at work or something (def w/o knowing who the other is, mobei jun is his boss? lol) and start developing feelings for each other irl while maintaining a strong hateship online

C) meet in dreams bc their souls are too interconnected, but only in their past life forms so they still can't recognize each other irl. but now theyre playing out fantasies together in the dream world

im indecisive LOL

[emsdevs]

Can I please have 13 with Joseph Woll 🎁 happy birthday again! - em

a/n: here's the first celly post!! i'm so excited to get to all of these!! you guys made SUCH good picks!!

Prompt 13: "You deserved to know."

Birthday Celly 2025 Masterlist | masterlist

Catching up with Jo had been everything you could’ve hoped for. When he reached out a few days ago after he arrived in your hometown for the off-season, you could only hope it would go well, but it’s been like nothing has changed at all, like he never left and you two never lost touch. He’d had you laughing and reminiscing the whole time. That all went away, though, when you watched his smile turn serious.

“Look, there’s an actual reason I asked you to come here with me today,” you could see the nerves swirling in his eyes, making a pit grow in your stomach.

“Oh, okay, um, what, uhh, what did you need?” 

“So, there’s something I need to tell you—actually, a few things. First of all, I met this girl in Toronto,” he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“That’s great, Joey,” you give him a tight smile, ignoring the way your heart clenches at the news.

“Yeah, so, um, we’ve been on a few dates, and I, uh, I think she’s waiting on me to make it, you know, official. But, uh, before I do, I really need to get this off my chest, and I need to know what you think about it,” he gives you a look, and you’re nervous all over again.

“Okay. What do you have for me?” 

“I think I’ve always been in love with you, and I’m not sure I can love anyone else until you turn me down,” he says it quickly, like it’s been fighting to come out of his mouth all day.

“What?” you were shocked, you never expected him to tell you anything like that.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were in middle school, but I was too scared to tell you before I left after I got drafted. I wanted you to know, but I chickened out. I didn’t think you’d feel the same. Now, I met this girl, and she’s really great. She is! She’s just not you. I can’t move things forward with her unless I know you don’t feel the same way. Either way, I still feel like you deserved to know. Especially if we’re gonna stay close after this, but I probably just ruined any chance of that. So, um, yeah,” he trails off at the end of his rant, unsure what else to say.

“I wish you would’ve told me sooner, Jo,” your face is still covered by a stunned expression.

“Yeah, so you wouldn’t be holding me back, right? I get it. It’s okay. Thank you for hearing me out. I’ll let you go now,” Joseph looks dejected, and you realize you could’ve been a bit clearer.

“No! I- I wish you would’ve told me sooner because we could’ve been together this whole time. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember Joey,” you give him a reassuring smile, hoping that maybe now the two of you could be a little more than friends.

“Oh thank god,” he breathes out a sigh of relief, “Wait, so is this our first date?”

taglist: @heartsforjh @macklin-celbrini-71  @dancerbailey3  @joeyspuckbunny  @beenucks  @wolls-angel  @lukey-pookie-hughes43  @t0xicinvasion

join the taglist

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Shifty is a delight. I love how baffled and stressed he makes his new friends. I'd love if he met "Dirty Ford" and the rest of the canon crew because I think he'd also make them baffled and stressed (except the stressed is mostly just Dipper seeing this guy who says he's his alternate dimension cousin, an alternate version of the shapeshifter that tried to kill him, his sister, and his friends).

Shifty's just having a great time. His alternate tried to murder his not-cousins. Fascinating. Is this more evidence that nurture has more to do with the morality of shapeshifters, or do shapeshifters work differently in this dimension? Maybe he can track down alternate Marcy, Darcy, and Jon and ask.

Dirty Ford is feeling retroactive guilt about Shifty being sentient. Like he definitely heard Cat Ford mention that but he did not process that until confronted with Cat Shifty.

Mabel's chill and excited about this Shifty. Sure, his alternate scared her pretty bad but he's just a silly guy like Grunkle Ford. He comes from a world where Grunkle Stan turns into a cute little cat. She needs to know all the alternate family tea.

Stan's like that's a bit weird, but he did punch a pterodactyl to save a pig and triangle to save the world, so alternate shapeshifting nibling is just, sure why not. Although he wishes he would stop telling the kids so much about how his alternate self got cursed to become a cat every time he steals (lame). He's worried this might give the kids (Mabel) ideas about turning him into a cat.

Inflicting cat dimension shifty on most other dimensions is like this honestly. Shifty doesn't make it out of the bunker in most cases, but cat Shifty doesn't hold it against his alternate family, because that's not him. He's not frozen in a bunker, and while he might feel bad for the other guy, he's living life just fine.

Which just makes everyone feel more guilty about the whole thing. Shiftys contemplating the differences between nature vs nurture, and how fascinating it is that his alternate self maybe almost killed his alternate parents and cousins. Meanwhile Fords going :( did I freeze a kid? Would my shifty be like this if I gave him a chance? Is it too late? (The answer to that last one is yes, too late to have his shifty be anything like cat shifty).

Mabel starts out uncomfortable, but she warms up pretty fast. Cat shiftys right after all! He is a different person then the one who almost killed her! He's also weird and funny like her grunkle! He's sharing all the fun stories about his family with her! How come her grunkle Stan can't be a cat :(

Dipper spends the entire time trailing him and watching every move suspiciously. He's a shapeshifter! They're evil! C!Shifty just shrugs. Maybe shapeshifters are evil here? He doesn't know! Eventually C!Shifty would win him over with his crazy lore drops. What does he mean he has four parents? Who's Carla? There's a coven in town? Why were you fighting dinosaurs? Dipper would get so lost trying to figure anything out about him and forget to be scared.

Stan is unaffected, except he would rather this guy stop telling everyone about his alternate self. That guy's lame, turns into a cat and snuggles people? Stan wouldn't be caught dead doing that. Ever. He needs his family to stop throwing puppy dog eyes his way about it. It's not happening.

[adoresia]

꣑ৎ contains ★ Fluff (?) ,, ft Nagi Seishiro :: ★ People usually buy you flowers when they love you. I dunno, that’s the only scenario I can imagine someone giving you flowers to be honest…

˙🧷 ̟ Sia here ! :: BEFORE READING!! I AM BEGGING YOU. WHILE READING LISTEN TO THIS. If you don’t I promise I’ll be under your bed every night. If the link doesn’t work the song is ‘I love you, I’m sorry by gracie abrams!!

˙🏷️ ̟ Nagi’s masterlist | BLLK masterlist | Main masterlist

Nagi never really understood why you cared about him so much.

He never asked you to wake him up early just so he wouldn’t be late for practice. He never asked you to leave neatly packed meals on his kitchen counter because he thought it was too much of a hassle to eat. He never asked you to lace your fingers with his when you walked together, even though he never pulled away.

“You don’t have to do all this.” he told you once, watching as you set a steaming plate of food in front of him. “It looks like too much work.” You only laughed and then settled on a smile. And then sat beside him resting your chin in your palm. “I like doing it. Even if you don’t let me.” Nagi didn’t get it. He didn’t get you.

Maybe that’s why he never bothered to stop you.

He remembers how you’d always wait for him after practice, met with a “You did great today, Sei.” As you stood by the entrance of the training facility while shifting on your feet as the cold air bit at your fingers. “Oh. You waited.” he’d reply, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Why wouldn’t I?” He never understood that either, and honestly he didn’t know why he was trying to. It wasn’t like you got anything out of it. Walking home with him was just silence and dragging footsteps, but you never complained. You stayed beside him anyway.

One time he asked you outright. “Why do you bother doing all this for me?” You tilted your head at him as if the answer was obvious. “Because I care about you.” He frowned. “But why? There’s no point.” He didn’t know why he was asking, he could’ve just lift it at that. But something in him had him curious. Some sort of foreign feeling that for some reason couldn’t accept that as an answer. You smiled reaching out for his hand. Your fingers curled around his wrist. “Yes there is! I enjoy caring about you.”

He had no response to that.

The bell above the flower shop door jingles as he steps inside. The place has an aroma of earth, like petals just after it rains. His eyes scan over bouquets wrapped in delicate paper, and for the first time — he realizes how colorful flowers really are.

Just as colourful as you.

You always had this way of making things less dull. You always dragged him outside when all he wanted to do was lie around. You always tugged him towards places you found interesting. There was a new bakery in town? You’re going together. A festival popped up on campus? You would buy 2 tickets for the both of you. You made life seem less like of a hassle for him, even if he never actually realised it. As his thoughts wonder back to where he is, the shopkeeper asks him if he needs help. He shakes his head signaling a “no”, choosing a bouquet without really thinking.

As he exits the store, he remembers the first time you told him you loved him. One of the most significant memories he has of you. You were both lying on his couch, a comfortable silence settled between the both of you. The only sound being the faint hum of his phone as he scrolled through it lazily. You were staring at him, waiting.

“I love you, Seishiro.” He blinked, looking away from his screen. “Oh.” Your lips quirked up, but your eyes held something softer. “You don’t have to say it back,” you murmured; as if you already knew he wouldn’t. He didn’t. He just turned back to his phone, feeling a strange weight settle in his chest.

The walk is quiet and the wind is gentle, but Nagi shoves his free hand into his pocket with his shoulders tense, almost nervous. But regretful. Why?

Because he should’ve let you love him ages ago.

You had tried so hard, never wavering or asking for anything in return. He wonders why he never let himself love you back. He’s ready now, ready to reach for you instead of standing still. Ready to tell you how much you meant to him.

And as he finally arrives to his destination, standing nervously in front of you. The flowers feel heavy in his hands.

He stares down at the stone,

your name carved into it with care. He wonders how long it took for them to get it right. How many times they traced the letters, making sure it was perfect. The sky is a deep, hazy blue, the kind you always loved. He never cared much for the sky before. But now he stares at it for a long time, trying to see what you used to. He kneels down and places the bouquet in front of your gravestone. His fingers linger against the petals, hoping they’ll warm under his touch. He exhales softly, and his voice is quiet,

“I love you.” A pause. A breath. “I’m sorry.”

And now, since he never gave you the chance to love him, he had to suffer the consequences of loving you emptily, for the rest of eternity.

a/n : is emptily even a word idk, anyways! sorry..😞 you can cry on my shoulder.

[ikkyfics]

Bittersweet Smoke

Tangerine x f!reader

Summary: You had known each other for a few years. You were always the intermediary between them and the clients, the bridge between the service and the payment. You looked like a doll—too perfect, too unattainable. And Tangerine had never wanted so badly to put his hands on something he knew he shouldn't touch.

Warnings: suggestive, language, smoke (don't smoke, it's bad), no use of y/n

A/N: request from my GREAT love @gingerteafairy and the first time I dare to write something with Tangerine, so I'm a little nervous

Masterlist

The park was always the meeting place. Public, busy, safe enough that no one would suspect anything. You insisted on scheduling meetings there, surrounded by the distant sound of children's laughter and the coming and going of strangers, as if the open environment could keep things under control.

But today, things would be different.

Today, Lemon wouldn't be here to serve as a buffer.

Tangerine had received the message minutes earlier, short and direct: You'll have to go alone. Behave.

He scoffed, running his tongue over his teeth in an irritated tic. Not because he couldn't handle a simple conversation, but because handling you, alone, was another story.

So, he did the only logical thing. He lit a cigarette.

The smoke spread through the crisp morning air as he waited, leaning against the iron railing of a flower bed. The dark velvet of his coat was immaculate, just like the brown curls that fell with calculated carelessness over his forehead. Tangerine was a man of presence, he always had been, but when it came to you…

Something in him became unhinged.

You had known each other for a few years. You were always the intermediary between them and the clients, the bridge between the service and the payment. Rational, precise, immaculately professional. But with him? Oh, with him, it had never been simple. From the first meeting, the barbs were constant, sharp as a blade. He thought you were bossy. You thought he was unbearable. He said you were too spoiled for this job. You replied that he was a rabid dog in an expensive suit.

And yet, you kept on like this—circling each other, orbiting, exchanging glances that lasted too long, provoking and irritating, as if waiting to see who would lose control first.

That was why he took a deep drag before seeing you. And that was why, despite expecting you, when you finally arrived, something in him stalled.

Your walk was always the same—confident, precise. Of course, you were beautiful. Mary Jane shoes touching the stone softly, pretty socks climbing up legs he tried not to stare at and failed miserably. You looked like a doll—too perfect, too unattainable. And Tangerine had never wanted so badly to put his hands on something he knew he shouldn't touch.

And it was driving him crazy.

"That's going to kill you."

Your voice cut through the silence, sweet and sharp, and Tangerine exhaled the smoke slowly, one corner of his mouth lifting.

"Hm? What's going to kill me?"

"That," you gestured toward the cigarette with your chin. "Smoking."

He chuckled low. "You talk like you care, doll."

The pet name made your expression harden for a second. But there was something else today, something different. He noticed it in the gleam in your eyes, in the way your fingers absentmindedly smoothed the seam of your skirt, in how your breathing adjusted as he watched you. Something was wrong—not that he dared to ask what.

"Maybe you should take a drag."

The words came out lower, slower, laced with something you pretended not to notice.

But you did.

Tangerine knew because he saw your throat move in a dry swallow, saw you hesitate a second longer than you should have.

"I don't smoke," you shot back. But you didn’t turn away, didn’t change the subject.

He brought the cigarette to his lips again, taking a slow drag, letting the smoke spread into the space between you. "There's a first time for everything."

You hesitated. Tangerine saw it. A blink too many, a swallow too hard. But instead of refusing, your fingers moved—delicate, hesitant—until they reached for him.

Oh.

A slow smile formed on his lips. Taking his time, he turned his hand, holding the cigarette between his fingers for you to take.

The touch was brief, but enough. Your skin met his for an instant—warm, soft. Tangerine watched, fascinated, as you brought the cigarette to your lips.

Ah, hell.

The same mouth that had said so many sharp things to him was now touching the same cigarette he had just smoked.

Then, you inhaled.

And choked.

The cough came hard, unexpected, and you quickly pulled the cigarette away, bringing your hand to your mouth as you leaned slightly to the side, trying to catch your breath.

Tangerine blinked, first surprised—then, chuckled lowly.

"Fuck," he muttered, genuine amusement in his voice. "Slow down, doll. That’s not how you do it."

You shot him a sharp glare, your eyes gleaming with irritation. "Don’t laugh."

He raised his hands, theatrically innocent, but the smile was still there, tugging at one corner of his mouth. "I’m not laughing."

You cleared your throat, regaining composure, your fingers still holding the cigarette, hesitant. Tangerine tilted his head slightly, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your lips, then to the curve of your neck—where a faint hint of color was rising, subtle.

"Hold it like this," he said, his voice lower now, reaching out to adjust the way you held the cigarette. His fingers brushed against yours again—a brief, warm touch—before he pulled away. "And when you inhale, do it slowly. Let the smoke in, then release it. No need to swallow it like you're desperate."

You narrowed your eyes at him, clearly suspicious. But instead of answering, you brought the cigarette back to your lips. This time, slowly.

And Tangerine had to hold his breath.

He felt it. He felt the exact moment his mouth went dry, the moment the tension in the air thickened. Because now that you knew how to do it, you did it right. Your lips parted slightly, your lashes lowered just a bit, and the smoke came out slow, smooth.

And hell, he shouldn't have been staring so much.

But he was.

"Good girl," he murmured, almost without thinking.

Your gaze met his for an instant, sharp, as if the words had poked at something deep inside you. But instead of responding, you simply extended your hand, returning the cigarette.

Tangerine blinked, surprised for a second, before accepting it. His fingers brushed against yours again, lingering just a little longer than they should before he brought the cigarette back to his lips.

And then he saw it.

The soft stain of lipstick on the filter.

A mark of yours, right there.

He took a deep drag, more than he needed, the familiar taste now mixed with something new—something he wanted to taste more of. Smoke filled his lungs, dense, warm, as his mind drifted for a moment.

And it was inevitable.

The thought.

The absurd, uncontrollable desire to see your perfect composure unravel.

To see you reduced to sighs in his bed, your pretty clothes disheveled, your sweet voice turned into something more urgent. To have your stockings pulled down, your lips parted, saying his name in a way he hadn’t heard yet.

The cigarette burned down to the filter. Tangerine flicked it away, crushing it against the ground with the tip of his shoe, a muscle in his jaw tightening for a second.

Oh, he was going to ruin you.

Not today. Not here. But someday.

You reached into your bag, pulling out a slim envelope before placing it in his hand. “New contract,” you muttered, back to business. “Straightforward. Should be easy enough.”

Tangerine tucked it into his coat. “Sure. You know me, sweetheart. Always smooth, always professional.”

You rolled your eyes, already turning to leave. But before he could step away, your voice reached him again—softer this time.

“Be careful.”

The phrase was small, tossed into the air as if it meant nothing. But Tangerine felt it.

He felt it in the way your voice came out softer. In how you avoided looking directly at him this time. In the meaning you tried to hide beneath the simplicity of the words.

And that was exactly why he smiled.

Slow. Teasing. Something drawn-out and amused.

"Aww," he murmured, tilting his head, "you care, love?"

Your expression soured instantly. “I don’t.”

“‘Course not,” he drawled, utterly entertained.

You huffed in irritation, spinning on your heel and walking away, muttering something under your breath. Tangerine watched you go, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

Oh, he loved pissing you off.

And when he got back from this job?

He was going to ask you out.

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

simply lilac outtakes: lilac & minta

(set before the second strawberry ceremony - this would have occurred off-screen)

LILAC: Hey, so Ezekiel said I’d find you up here - oh. Talk to me.

ARAMINTA: It’s nothing, really.

LILAC: It’s clearly something. What’s up - did Dodo only recite love poetry to you twice this morning?

ARAMINTA: Today is your day.

LILAC: It is my day - and I’m choosing to make it about you at this moment. So tell me.

ARAMINTA: Hosting this - it is a privilege and I love seeing how the contestants grow - but it also makes me think back to the island, and of all the other people Dodo could have potentially been happy with instead of me.

LILAC: Wait - whoa. Have you not seen the two of you together?

ARAMINTA: I have. And all of this feels so unfair since when it’s just the two of us, he makes me feel like I’m the only other person in the world. It’s nothing that he’s done. It’s just me - all me. And I see you with contestants and I think “oh, they could be cute, but then they also could be cute” - what if everyone else is thinking that Dodo made the wrong choice?

LILAC: Then plum everyone else.

ARAMINTA: What if he has made the wrong choice? For him, I mean?

LILAC: Okay - oh, woof. Listen, when people have just started dating, most of the time they’re not exclusive. And if they are, it’s purely incidental.

LILAC: So what you saw on the show was merely what would have been going on in the background in real life. Though I get where it would have been hard to watch. Do you still feel like he’s the person for you?

ARAMINTA: Yes. Absolutely.

LILAC: So is it more that you wish you’d met under different circumstances?

ARAMINTA: Yes - actually, no. I wouldn’t have been the person that I am today, had I not entered the competition. It - it definitely did a lot of good for me.

LILAC: And maybe if you and Dodo had met elsewhere, you wouldn’t have given each other a chance? [dryly] I’m feeling that way a lot about my situation.

ARAMINTA: True. And I appreciate the opportunity. But then I look at Daisy Dee, who’s so gorgeous and has such charisma, and Sierra, who’s simply amazing - and I wonder how he could have possibly picked me? It’s not that I’m jealous of either of them, it’s-

LILAC: The Inner Araminta Own Worst Critic?

ARAMINTA: Perhaps. 

LILAC: You could also maybe look at it like, “here’s all these ‘amazing’ people he met and had a great time with, and he still chose me? So to him, I must be extra amazing? And he must really want to be with me?” Could you try and think of it that way?

ARAMINTA: Hmm.

LILAC: And if you can’t see yourself that way, could you maybe believe that Dodo does?

ARAMINTA: [...]

LILAC: Would you try and talk to him about this sometime? I know that communication isn’t always easy for you stiff upper lipped Henford types, but if you explained how you felt exactly the way you explained it to me just now. He thinks the world of you. And if I’ve noticed that something’s been off about you lately, then I’m sure he has too. In between all the belching and the paranoid muttering, even.

ARAMINTA: [tentative smile]

LILAC: Well, time to face the music. Just let me fix your mascara first. We’ll just pretend it’s bled since the Watcher didn’t fork out for the Lovestruck pack. Also what’s this dress you’re wearing? Amazing.

ARAMINTA: It’s a @sentate. We had all packed formal outfits for the final, but production never gave us the chance to change.

LILAC: Then production’s a bunch of idiots. Dodo would have proposed to you on the spot. Actually, we better have Lou check that he’s off set for now. Can’t have him ruining my moment in the spotlight, can we?

dodo harper by @akitasimblr, daisy darling by @mdshh, sierra mitchell by @tipsy-clouds