#but that's between me and my god i guess 😔

[butmakeitgayblog]

Alycia looks like she is going to a PTA meeting in those mom jeans.

Lookin like a sexy little bake sale organizer 🫦

[oh-meow-swirls]

they should bring back that period of time back when yo-kai watch was fairly popular in america where you could get yo-kai watch stuff at dollar tree. that's where all my yo-kai watch figures n medals n stuff are from-

[luvyeni]

🦢… ( drabble ) love blindness ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 양정원 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ ヾ

yandere!jungwon・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut. yandere.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ manipulation. ‎unprotected sex. mentions of murder. wc ・ ‎0.7k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

reaction. can you please do jungwon yandere smut? any concept !!!

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 my first wonie smut , it might be a little awkward I’m sorry 😔

love blindness; that’s what you have, at least that’s what your friends say. you don’t even see the signs. “he’s controlling.” your friends would warn. “he’s constantly there , why does he need to be next to you at all times?”

and to which you just flagged them off. “he’s just being a protective boyfriend.” you stated. “he knows this is my first relationship, so he’s just extra careful.” and maybe that’s why it was so easy; so easy for you to fall into his dangerous and torturous web. “he’s a good problem, i swear.”

no , no he wasn’t a good person; jungwon knew that. he was sick and twisted; and in love with you. “wonie!” he smiled waiting for you outside of the coffee place, he’d been there for the past hour, watching you — of course you didn’t know, you didn’t need to know. “hey baby.” he leaning over kissing your coffee tainted lips. “you have fun.”

you sat in the seat; frowning. “yeah i guess.” he caught on to your behavior. “did something happened?” you didn’t say anything, he grabbed your cheeks forcing you to look at him. “what’s wrong?” he said. “it’s just that my friends were saying something’s today.” you said , he let you go sitting back in his seat. “like what?” you shrugged. “just that you’re controlling and you’re just always there.”

he was seething; how fucking dare they taint your perfect image of him with their words. “they said that about me?” he was planning their brutal demise in his head , but he turned on his best smile just for you. “im sorry they made you sad , but it’s okay.” he said. “we aren’t gonna listen to them.” he placed his hand on your bare thigh. “okay?” you nodded, smiling innocently at him. “they’re just jealous they don’t have a boyfriend that loves you as much as i do.” he squeezed your thigh. “you look so pretty in this dress.”

“th-thank you.” you stuttered out, flustered. “my favorite color too.” his hands inching up your dress. “did you wear it for me?” you tried to suppress a moan as his finger swiped your clothes clit. “wo-wonie , fuck.” you sighed , he pinched in between your thighs. “watch your mouth , you aren’t a nasty slut like those friends of yours , you’re a good girl.” you nodded. “so-sorry.” he nodded , pulling his fingers away. “let’s get home.” his eyes full of lust.

“oh my god!” you moaned out, legs pinned up as he pounded into your sensitive cunt for the past few hours. “wo-wonie i can’t take it anymore.” you sobbed , tears streaming down your face due to his brutal thrust. “se-sensitive.” he loved getting you like this , making you cum over and over ; to the point you were shaking just from his cock touching your cunt. “yo-you can - fuck - you can take it.” his hands wrapping around your throat. “take it like a good girl.”

only he could get you like this; he was the only one who ever got you like this. “my perfect little fuck toy aren’t you?” he squeezed your neck. “letting me use your precious body like this.” losing himself inside you, making his obsessive nature towards you more come out. “minds , all mines.” he growled. “you’re all mines , no one else can have you.” he restricted your breathing even more. “i’ll kill anyone if they ever think about taking you away from me.”

you gasped out as he finally let your neck go , holding your waist pounding into your sopping cunt. “you gonna cum?” you nodded. “ye-yes!” you shouted in pure ecstasy, he smirked holding off on letting you cum , just to see you beg. “please please let me cum.” you sobbed out , eyes crossing. “look at you going dumb on my cock , just how i like it.” he moaned , feeling himself about to cum as well. “cum for me , be a good girl.”

that’s all you needed before your eyes rolled to back of your head , jaw slack as you came. “of fuck you’re clenching so much , gonna fucking cum.” he groaned. “gonna cum inside you -fuck- fuck fuck!” he thrusted one two three times before stilling his hips , his cum shooting from his twitching cock. “take my cum.” he whispered softly in your ear. “good girl.”

that’s how you saw jungwon; as a safe space for you, a protector of some sort. someone who would never do anything to you to harm you; but people who talk bad about him to you and make you think anything less — well that’s a different story.

like he told you … he’d kill anyone who thought they could take you away from him ….

©️LUVYENI

[bluemerakis]

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ⭒˚.⋆ ⌇CELEBRATING 100+ C.AI FOLLOWERS ˚.⋆ ~

──────────────────────

MERA PRESENTS . . .

PAYBACK ERA .ᐟ SOLDIER BOY X CO-LEADER .ᐟ SUPE .ᐟ READER

──── SYNOPSIS ۶ৎ as co-leaders of vought’s infamous payback, yourself and soldier boy are sent on a closeted mission to investigate a business transaction gone wrong. the mission spans over a few nights, and during that time, you’re forced to share a one-bed motel room with the insufferable supe—who makes it his mission to wear your every nerve thin⌇ LINK .ᐟ ⋆ ˚࿔ °･

SINGER .ᐟ SOLDIER BOY X FAN .ᐟ READER

──── SYNOPSIS ۶ৎ you’re a local at the town bar that soldier boy frequents in his free time, debuting solo tunes when america’s cameras are powered down for the night. during his every performance, you’ve been tucked into the crowd—listening, admiring, hypnotised. and on one particular night, when out with a couple of friends, you run into the off-duty singer, who instantly recognises you ⌇ LINK .ᐟ ⋆ ˚࿔ °･

PROFESSOR .ᐟ BEN X STUDENT .ᐟ READER

⌖ based on a req .ᐟ

──── SYNOPSIS ۶ৎ godolkin university’s added a new professor to its ranks, and he’s everything a respectable academician shouldn’t be—burly, boisterous and a bit of a dick. as your new professor, you can’t help but notice every single detail about him—it borders on pathetic—and you don’t think he notices, until he does. and you certainly don’t expect that he’ll do something about your academic inattentiveness, but he does⌇ LINK .ᐟ ⋆ ˚࿔ °･

SOLDIER BOY X NON-SMOKER .ᐟ READER

⌖ based on the fic ── ❝ memory foam ❞

⌖ re-releasing this guy, as he’s been shadowbanned since his creation 😔 .ᐟ

──── SYNOPSIS ۶ৎ soldier boy’s taken it upon himself to try and teach you how to roll a blunt, but he’s never been renowned for having patience—and when you’re testing him in all the wrong ways, he’s prepared to teach you a lesson you simply can’t ignore⌇ LINK .ᐟ ⋆ ˚࿔ °･

POST-HELL .ᐟ DEAN WINCHESTER X HUNTER .ᐟ READER

⌖ based on the fic ── ❝ this one’s on me ❞

──── SYNOPSIS ۶ৎ dean’s physically free of hell, but he finds that his own demons have never really left him. having already made his fair share of bad decisions, he figures that it couldn’t hurt to make one more—the pursuit of you⌇ LINK .ᐟ ⋆ ˚࿔ °･

ANXIOUS .ᐟ DEAN WINCHESTER X HUNTER .ᐟ READER

──── SYNOPSIS ۶ৎ based on the events of s4ep6, where dean’s infected with yellow fever. an anxious mess incapable of letting his mind off-duty, you’re left to babysit him while sam chases a lead that’ll hopefully cure dean’s gradual descent into madness. you attempt to help him pass time with countless distractions that all prove futile, until you make the discovery that dean’s comforted by physical touch⌇ LINK .ᐟ ⋆ ˚࿔ °･

DEAN WINCHESTER X HUNTER .ᐟ READER

──── SYNOPSIS ۶ৎ sam winchester had gone missing a few days ago. after countless early mornings spent with your nose buried between the younger winchester’s books, you’d eventually found some sort of lead on his disappearance—a page he’d torn from a book about the consumption of demon blood. dean had linked that to sam’s frequented—supposedly secret—calls to ruby, and with that fraction of the picture, you’d both guessed that sam was currently on some blood bender with the demon. it sets in motion a road-trip that traps you by the side of a frustrated and traumatised dean, who attempts to work through his complicated emotions with the company of alcohol—and you⌇ LINK .ᐟ ⋆ ˚࿔ °･

──────────────────────

a/n — first off: thank you all, from the bottom of my heart, for 100+ followers on c.ai! i appreciate your patience with me more than words can express. i hope that you can take these bots as a token of my love for each and every one of you who take the time to interact with my content. love you all! second off: all these bots are based on fics that i need to either wrap up and post or continue writing, so 😝 stay tuned pooks!

please lmk if any of the links are not working—god forbid 😔🤞 i have hopefully sorted out everything so that my bots are no longer shadow-banned 🙏

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© bluemerakis ─ do not plagiarise or steal any of my works.

[nipuni]

Hi Nipuni, I hope you’re doing well. I’m just curious what’s your opinion about the rampant use of AI in art lately especially how it impacts artists and possibly stealing artists work to train it. As a fellow artist I’m curious of what other artists would think of this. I’ve seen many beginners artists losing hope in pursuing art because of AI and it truly breaks my heart. I hope artists wouls stay doing art no matter what because it’s very important and their art will always be valuable no matter what. By the way, you don’t have to reply to this if this particular topic is not something you’re comfortable with. I love your art so much and I wish all the best for you, you are an incredible artist and I love the energy you always put into your art🫶

Hello, I am doing great! I hope you are too! ☺️ I'm so sorry I'm so late to reply. I've been following the generative AI conversation on and off for so long now and I have yet to find a single argument that justifies it's cost. I don't think I have much to add that hasn't been said before. I think it is unethical, unsustainable, irresponsible, dangerous, harmful, theft, etc. It is neither intelligent nor generative, it doesn't think, it can't reason it's guided guessing based on statistics and pattern recognition. it's not creating anything new either it's just pulling from a database of stolen human content and mashing it together, it can't be trained on itself either so it needs constant human input too. I just don't see the point? 🫠 It's some kind of gimmicky toy made to appeal to the most annoying people imaginable by the most annoying people imaginable to profit from and at immense cost to everyone else. It's negatively impacting every creative industry in every way and even affecting the way we learn, communicate and engage with media. It's invading everything and making it objectively worse lmao. It's also dangerous in countless ways. An environmental disaster too and for what!! aaaaa It feels like a huge cultural setback and technological dead end and it's so depressing. I wish I had something positive to add after so much ranting but I don't 😔 The impact of this on creative fields among others is undeniable and I fear will make things harder for a while but I'd like to think that it's still early days and there are so many people fighting to regulate this mess and we all can help by advocating and boycotting at the very least.

If anything this whole debacle has made me examine my relationship with art more deeply and I realize I love the process of making art more than I love the result. The space between idea and finished piece that is all me, I'm in there!! and I love it there!! I can't see myself doing anything else or relegating this part. This will change things at a societal and economical level but people will always make art. I don't know where I'm going with this, I don't think the philosophical is a good angle to center the conversation on either, but I guess it's a comfort 😭 'In the dark times Will there also be singing? Yes, there will also be singing. About the dark times.' poem comes to mind

This reply got away from me oh my god sjfkhg I'm focusing on the art side of things here of course but I could go on about the damage to plenty of other fields but I don't feel qualified enough aaaa anyway Thank you so much for the kind words you are very sweet and I hope you don't let all this discourage you 🥺❤️ we will be alright!!

[mistyshane30]

You Were Never Mine to Lose (Chapter 24)

Synopsis: Something has shifted. You feel it in the quiet between her words, in the way her eyes don’t look away as quickly. After last night, everything feels more fragile—more real. The space between you isn’t absence anymore. It’s waiting.

Word count: 8.6K

Warnings: Subtle angst, Unresolved emotions, Sexual tension, Mild language 

A/N: Hey guys! so sorry for the late update😭 college has just been super hectic lately. our exams got split, I have my practical exam next week and online exams the week after, so my schedule’s been really packed. I haven’t had much time to write, so the next update might take a while again😔 I guess this is just how it is when you take a marine course, tired from academics and training😅 But anyway, I really hope you enjoy this new chapter! Thank you so much for sticking around🫶 Love you all!!

You woke up to a sharp, splitting pain right behind your eyes. 

You groaned, immediately squeezing them shut again, feeling like your skull was about to crack open. Your mouth was dry, your throat sore. 

Everything hurt. 

You shifted against the soft sheets, heart starting to pound harder. 

Wait—  These weren’t the scratchy, cheap linens of your inn.  The pillows smelled faintly of something expensive. Something familiar. 

You cracked your eyes open, squinting against the soft morning light pouring through gauzy hotel curtains. A muted blue-grey room. Heavy curtains. Minimalist furniture. 

This wasn’t your room. 

Panic flared in your chest. 

You tried to sit up but instantly regretted it when your head spun.  A groan escaped your throat, pathetic and small. 

The bathroom door opened. 

You whipped your head toward it, wincing.  There stood Agatha—hair loosely tied back, sleeves rolled up, barefoot. Holding a tray. 

She froze when she saw you awake.  Only for a second. 

"Good morning , Y/N," she said dryly, making her way over to the bed. She set the tray down on the side table—crispy bacon, waffles, a cup of coffee. 

You blinked at her, still dazed. 

Agatha glanced at you, then at the food. 

"You need to eat something," she said, voice lighter than usual but guarded, careful. "And hydrate. Before you die." 

You swallowed thickly, throat burning. 

"What...what happened?" you rasped. 

Agatha pulled the chair closer to the bed, sitting down like she was settling in but ready to bolt if needed. 

"You got drunk," she said simply, crossing one long leg over the other. "Spectacularly drunk. And messy." 

You flushed hot, covering your face with your hands.  "Oh my God. Did I—did I do something stupid?" 

Agatha chuckled under her breath, a real laugh.  It stung your heart a little because it sounded so natural, so easy—and yet there was still distance in her eyes. 

"You were harmless," she said, taking a sip of her own coffee. "Messy, clingy, very vocal about my looks, but otherwise... entertaining." 

You peeked at her between your fingers. 

"You’re making fun of me," you grumbled. 

"I could," she teased, eyes glinting, "but it wouldn’t be fair. You’re already suffering enough." 

You pushed the tray closer to your lap, picking up the coffee first because you were desperate for anything that could bring you back to life. 

Agatha watched you quietly for a moment. 

There was a softness there. Hidden beneath the mask she wore so well. 

And for once, it wasn’t pity.  It was something almost like... tenderness. 

You risked a glance at her again, feeling the awkward weight in the air. 

"Did I...say anything else?" you asked hesitantly, voice smaller. 

Agatha tilted her head, studying you. Her mouth twitched, like she was fighting off a smirk. 

"You called me a dream," she said finally, voice softer. 

You choked a little on your coffee, heat flaring at the back of your neck. 

"Wonderful," you muttered. 

Agatha laughed again under her breath, standing up from her chair. 

"You can borrow some clothes," she said, brushing invisible lint from her jeans. "You smell like a distillery." 

You glared at her, but there was no heat behind it. 

Agatha disappeared into the closet, pulling out a crisp white shirt and a pair of soft grey sweatpants. She tossed them onto the bed beside you. 

"There. Now go shower before you destroy my room." 

You sat there for a moment, blinking blearily at the clothes. 

Then, gathering what little dignity you had left, you pushed yourself up and stood—wobbling slightly. 

Agatha was suddenly in front of you again, steadying your arms without thinking. 

You looked up at her, inches away, her hands firm around your arms. 

The world tilted—not from the hangover this time, but from how close she was. 

Her blue eyes flickered down your face, lingering at your lips before she caught herself and stepped back, clearing her throat. 

"Bathroom’s through there," she said briskly, nodding toward the left. 

You held the clothes to your chest, heart hammering. 

There was a crack in her armor. A tiny, tiny crack.  You could feel it. 

You padded toward the bathroom, pausing at the door to glance back. 

Agatha was pretending to fiddle with the coffee tray, but her shoulders were stiff, her face carefully blank. 

"Thanks," you said quietly. 

She didn’t turn around.  Just nodded once. 

You disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind you. 

Later, after you finished your shower—stepping out in her oversized shirt and sweatpants, hair damp—you found Agatha sitting by the window, scrolling absently through her phone. 

She glanced up, froze for a second when she saw you. 

Something shifted behind her eyes. 

But then, like always, she forced it down, returning to neutral. 

"You clean up nice," she said dryly, setting her phone aside. 

You gave her a tired smile, padding barefoot across the room. 

"Thanks for... last night. And this morning," you said quietly, genuinely. 

Agatha shrugged like it was no big deal.  But the faintest pink touched her ears. 

You grabbed your bag from the chair, slinging it over your shoulder.  Agatha reached for her car keys. 

"I’ll drive you back," she said casually. 

You followed her out without argument. 

In the car, halfway through the drive, Agatha asked, voice too casual: 

"That girl who's always hovering around you... Kate, right?" 

You turned your head sharply to look at her. 

Agatha kept her eyes fixed on the road, jaw tight. 

"Yeah," you said slowly. "That's Kate." 

She nodded once. Too quickly. 

"She... seems attached," Agatha said. 

You blinked, surprised at the edge in her voice. 

"Why do you ask?" 

Agatha shrugged like it didn’t matter.  "It’s just... noticeable." 

You smiled a little to yourself, turning to stare out the window, pretending not to see the way her fingers tightened slightly around the steering wheel. 

A tiny, guilty thrill sparked in your chest. 

Jealousy. 

Real, tangible jealousy. 

But you didn’t call her out on it.  Not yet. 

The car fell into a companionable silence, the city whirring past outside. 

After a few minutes, Agatha spoke again, softer this time: 

"Have you ever... explored the city? You know, properly?" 

You turned your head to her again, confused. 

"Not really," you admitted. 

Agatha hesitated, drumming her fingers lightly against the wheel. 

"Well..." she said, still too casual, "if you're free later... maybe you could use a guide." 

You blinked. 

"Are you offering?" 

Another shrug. Another mask slipping for just a second. 

"Don't make a big deal out of it." Agatha said quietly, almost like she was brushing it off, her eyes still on the road. 

You stared at her, heart catching painfully in your chest. 

"Okay," you said simply, quietly. 

Agatha gave a tiny nod, like that was all she needed. 

But you caught the way her mouth twitched—almost a smile. 

Almost. 

The car slowed to a stop in front of your inn, gravel crunching under the tires. 

You shifted awkwardly in your seat, clutching your bag to your chest, already missing the muted hum of safety that seemed to exist in her car.  Here, reality felt sharper again. 

You turned to unbuckle your seatbelt, feeling the weight of her gaze brush against you. When you looked over, Agatha was watching you — not quite meeting your eyes, but close. 

You hesitated, the air thick between you. 

"...Thanks again," you said, voice soft, raw around the edges. 

Agatha only nodded, tapping her fingers lightly against the steering wheel. 

You gripped the door handle, about to get out —  when her voice stopped you. 

“Hey,” Agatha’s voice was soft but firm, pulling you back for a moment before you could step out. It was almost as if she wasn’t ready to let go of this fragile peace between you two. 

You turned your head back toward her, eyes meeting hers. 

She exhaled sharply, looking down at her hands for a second, then back up at you. “Pick me up at the hotel at one o’clock,” she said, her voice low. The command was there—underneath the softness, the quiet strength. But it wasn’t the usual sharp edge; it was more like... a request wrapped in authority. She needed it to sound that way. 

You nodded, feeling your heart race. Something flickered in her expression, just for a moment. 

"I’ll be there," you said quietly, not needing to add anything more. There was a strange comfort in her tone, in the way she wasn’t pushing you away today. 

She blinked, her gaze softening just a bit. “Good,” she replied, voice just a touch warmer, but still holding that wall she wasn’t quite ready to drop. The words hung between you, both an invitation and a demand, but something in the air shifted. 

Her hands relaxed on the wheel just slightly, a subtle crack in her armor. A glimmer of something… like she was giving you a chance. Or maybe—just maybe—it was her way of not entirely letting go. Of not entirely shutting you out. 

You smiled faintly, a little softer than before. You didn’t need to say anything else. The quiet understanding was enough. 

Agatha’s lips twitched as she gave a little nod. 

“Go on,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral, though you could see the faintest hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “I’ll see you later.” 

You opened the door, stepping out, but you lingered for just a moment, catching her gaze one last time. There was a long, lingering silence, one that spoke volumes. 

It was a simple moment. A simple exchange. But it meant everything. 

“Later, Agatha,” you said, letting the words hang between you two, leaving them unspoken yet still full of meaning. 

She didn’t respond with her usual sharpness. Instead, she gave you a quiet, almost imperceptible nod. “Later.” 

You closed the door behind you and stood there for a moment, watching her car disappear down the road before you turned toward the inn, shoulders tight from holding in too many things you hadn’t said. 

Inside, the old floorboards creaked beneath your feet as you made your way to your room.  

Your door clicked shut behind you, and you exhaled for the first time in what felt like hours. 

The room looked the same, but it felt smaller now—temporary. A holding place. Something waiting to be erased. 

You sank onto the bed and reached for your phone. A few work emails had come through — your assistant had forwarded a logistics issue with a prototype in L.A., but they’d sorted it.  

You responded to one or two things automatically. Nothing heavy. Your brain was still too fogged from the hangover. Still spinning, too, from her. 

You scrolled through your socials — saw photos from last night already starting to appear. Blurry shots from the party. A glimpse of the drinking game circle. You spotted yourself in one — barely — head tilted back, mid-laugh. You didn’t remember that moment, but you looked like you were having fun. For a second, you smiled. 

Then it faded. 

You locked your phone and stared at the ceiling for a beat. 

This was probably your last few hours in Lynden. You hadn’t planned on staying longer. The campaign had covered your lodging here — most volunteers who didn’t live nearby were put in places like this. Now that the final push was over, you knew the expectation: back to Olympia.  

You sat up slowly. 

Moved on autopilot. 

You started packing. 

It didn’t take long — you never fully unpacked. You zipped up your bag, brushed off your shoes, checked under the bed just in case. 

Then you opened the closet and stared for a long time, hand hovering over the hangers. 

Eventually, you chose something simple, but expensive: a soft cream-colored blouse with delicate pearl buttons, tucked into tailored black trousers that hugged your waist perfectly. You threw a beige wool coat over your shoulders — it draped elegantly, weightless, like armor made of silk. 

Your hair was loose, glossy after the shower from earlier, falling in clean, dark sheets around your face. You tucked one side behind your ear, caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and looked away quickly. 

This wasn’t a date.  It wasn’t anything. 

Still… you wanted to look like yourself. The best version. The one she used to trace with her eyes when she thought you weren’t watching. 

You grabbed your bag and walked out, pausing at the front desk just long enough to leave the key on the counter. 

Outside, the clouds had cleared. The sunlight was pale and golden, cool as it filtered through the trees. You loaded your bag into the back seat of your car, took a breath, and drove. 

You were halfway to her hotel when you spotted the little flower stand tucked at the edge of town. 

You turned without thinking. 

The old man behind the table greeted you. “Bouquet?” he asked, like he already knew the answer. 

You nodded. “Azaleas, just the white ones today.” 

He wrapped them in brown paper and tied it with a soft purple ribbon. 

You handed him cash, and he handed you something else—an unspoken sentiment. 

You parked in front of Agatha’s hotel ten minutes later. 

You sat there for a moment, gripping the bouquet loosely in one hand. Then you got out, walked into the building, and took the elevator to her floor, heart thudding louder the closer you got. 

When you reached her door, you hesitated again. Just for a second. 

You raised your hand and knocked. 

Soft, deliberate. 

There was a pause. 

Then: footsteps. The lock turning. The sound of her breath, close now. 

And then she opened the door. 

Agatha stood in front of you in her usual black—sleek, understated elegance. Hair pinned up. A hint of lipstick. But there was something softer about her today too. Something unguarded, even if just for a second. 

You held out the azaleas without a word. 

Her eyes flicked from the flowers to your face. 

"You didn’t have to—" she started, but stopped herself. 

She took them gently, fingers brushing yours for a heartbeat too long. 

“I know,” you murmured. “But I wanted to.” 

A beat passed. She didn’t move aside yet. Just looked at you. Like she was letting herself see you. 

And then, quietly—she stepped back. 

“Come in.” 

You did. 

The moment Agatha closed the door behind you, the room felt different. Less sterile, more alive.  

She walked across the room and set the bouquet of azaleas on the desk, running her fingers over the petals before glancing around, clearly searching for something. 

“Where’s my phone?” she muttered under her breath. “I swear, I just had it.” 

You glanced around the room, a half smile tugging at your lips. “I can help you find it,” you offered, glancing at her—at how she was already moving between the bed and the desk, her eyes scanning with that sharp focus she always had. 

She shot you a brief, amused look. “You don’t have to,” she said, but you could hear the faintest hint of something behind her words. Not exactly warmth, but something... softer than usual. 

“No, really. I’m great at this,” you teased lightly. “I’m like a phone-finding expert.” 

You both started looking—Agatha checking the bedside table, under the pillows, while you crouched near the desk and peered under the chair. 

“What if we just... called it?” you suggested, a mischievous glint in your eyes. 

She gave you an incredulous look, pausing mid-motion. “It’s on silent,” she said, shaking her head. 

“I’m still calling it,” you replied, your voice light. You reached for your own phone, already unlocking it, not giving her a chance to stop you. 

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “It’s useless.” 

You smirked, ignoring her. A moment later, the ringing cut through the quiet of the room. 

And then you both froze. 

Because Agatha’s phone, which she’d been certain was on silent, was ringing from the other side of the room—right on the floor beneath the couch, wedged in a corner she had completely missed. 

You stared at her, lips curling into a soft laugh. “Huh. Seems like it’s not on silent after all.” 

Agatha’s expression was a mix of annoyance and disbelief, but there was an amused glint in her eyes. She grabbed the phone. “Fine,” she conceded, holding the phone up between you with a playful shrug. “You win. For now.” 

You stood there for a moment, a lingering smile still on your face as you watched her. There was something about her today, something... less guarded. She was still Agatha — sharp, powerful, and untouchable in some ways — but today, the walls were just a little lower. 

Agatha glanced at you, then quickly refocused on her phone. “Well, you found it. Happy?” 

You grinned, and the moment felt easy, like something you never thought you’d get to experience with her. “Very happy,” you teased back. 

She shook her head slightly, but you could see the subtle warmth in her gaze, the kind that wasn’t usually there. For a second, it felt like you two had shared something small, but important. 

“So,” you said, stretching the word out as you dropped your phone into your bag, “Are we going, or what?” 

Agatha stood up straight, adjusting her coat, but she seemed to hesitate for a moment—like she was figuring out the next step. After a second, she turned to you with that same professional poise she always carried, but you could tell she was trying to hold back a smile. 

“Right. Let’s go,” she said. Her voice was still clipped, but there was a softness to it that hadn’t been there before. 

She walked toward the door, holding it open for you, her gaze flicking to yours just before you stepped through. 

As you passed, you caught her gaze. Just for a moment. You could feel the tension in the air—so subtle, yet so undeniably there. 

You followed her down the hall, the heels of your shoes clicking on the smooth hotel floor. There was a slight awkwardness now, but it was comfortable. Like the kind of awkwardness that only came from being in a space with someone you were starting to trust again, but still didn’t fully understand. 

When you reached the elevator, you both stepped inside. It felt smaller somehow with the two of you in it—like the quiet was heavier now. You glanced at Agatha out of the corner of your eye. She was busy tapping on her phone, but there was something in her posture that gave away her thoughts, even if she wasn’t saying a word. 

You cleared your throat, just to break the silence. “So, uh... what’s on the agenda for today, then?” 

Agatha looked up from her phone, her gaze flicking to you for the briefest moment before she looked away again. “Well, I... I was thinking we could check out some of the boutique shops around town,” she said, her voice a little more tentative than usual.  

You hadn’t expected that. “Yeah?” you said, a little surprised, but not in a bad way. “That sounds... nice, actually.” 

Agatha shrugged, her gaze shifting away again. “It’s a quiet afternoon. Might be nice to just... see something that isn’t work.” 

You could see the flicker of something behind her eyes—a quiet invitation, one that was so subtle, it might’ve been easy to miss. But you didn’t miss it. 

And as the elevator doors opened and you stepped out, that soft tension between you only grew. There was still distance. Still that invisible wall between you. But today, it felt thinner. Like there was room for something new, if only either of you would take the first step. 

You unlock the car with a soft beep, and Agatha walks around to the passenger side without a word. There’s no hesitation in her movements, but she doesn’t say anything either. She just opens the door, slips in, and pulls the seatbelt across her body with a quiet click. 

You toss your bag in the backseat, shut your door a little softer than usual, and start the engine. 

The car hums to life, and still... nothing. 

Not a word. 

You adjust the volume knob—barely. Just low enough that the music doesn’t feel intrusive, just a faint instrumental playing in the background. Something slow and mellow, like it knows better than to interrupt. 

Your hand settles back on the wheel. You pull out of the hotel driveway, the tires crunching faintly over the gravel. 

You don’t look at her. Not yet. But you feel her there. 

Sitting beside you, one leg crossed over the other, her fingers idly toying with the hem of her sleeve. She’s dressed sharply—of course she is—but there’s a softness to her today. The way her body leans just slightly toward the window, the way her silence isn’t cutting. Just... thoughtful. 

You drive. 

The town blurs quietly past the windshield. Storefronts, the bakery you passed yesterday, the flower shop where you bought the azaleas.  

Agatha doesn’t speak. She doesn’t fiddle with the air controls, or check her phone. She just sits there. Breathing the same air as you. Sharing the same space. Letting the quiet exist between you without trying to fill it. 

It should feel awkward. But it doesn’t. 

It feels... honest. 

Every few blocks, your eyes flick toward her—just for a second. At the curve of her jaw, the way her fingers tap softly against her leg. She catches you once, and you both glance away like it didn’t happen. But it did. 

There’s a tension there—not heavy. Not sharp. Just present. Lingering in the space between you. Unspoken things sitting quietly in the car with you, waiting. 

You could say something. Ask her if she’s okay. If she’s changed her mind. If she regrets this small truce that’s beginning to form between you. 

But you don’t. 

You drive. 

The silence between you is full of history, but it’s not hostile. It’s... domestic, in a strange way. Comfortable. Like the two of you have done this before, driven like this before. Like you’ve sat in this kind of silence that says I know you’re here. That’s enough for now. 

You think of her hotel room, the warmth of the morning light against her hair. The way she let you into her space. The way she didn't stop you from staying. 

The way she’s still here now. 

As you approach the roads winding back toward the center of town, you don’t say anything. 

And neither does she. 

But when the sun catches the edge of her face just right, you swear—you swear—you see her mouth tilt, ever so slightly. 

Like she’s almost smiling. 

You park in a tight spot off the main street, killing the engine as the morning haze lifts fully into bright daylight. The sky is a watercolor blue, brushed with white clouds and the faint scent of lilacs and coffee drifting from the nearby cafés. Agatha doesn’t wait for you—she’s already stepped out of the car, slipping her sunglasses on as she tucks her coat under her arm. 

You climb out and quietly fall into step behind her. 

She doesn’t say where she’s going. She just starts walking. And you—like always—follow. 

The boutique she leads you to is quaint and a little overpriced, all exposed wood and tall racks of handwoven scarves and ethically sourced journals. A bell rings overhead as you both walk in. The shopkeeper glances up but doesn’t greet you—too focused on the jazz record spinning softly on an old turntable near the counter. 

Agatha makes a beeline for the souvenirs first, her fingers grazing over hand-painted magnets and tiny ceramic mugs shaped like pinecones. 

You trail after her slowly, letting the soft lighting and musky scent of incense wrap around you like a blanket. There's something weirdly peaceful about it, until— 

“Would you wear this?” Agatha asks, holding up a ridiculous floppy sunhat, wide-brimmed and covered in pink ribbon. 

You blink. “Are you serious?” 

Her mouth curls. “Do I look like I’m joking?” 

“I don’t know, you always look like you’re about to scold someone,” you say, and it earns you a sharp, short exhale. Maybe it’s a laugh. Hard to tell. 

She puts the hat back and keeps browsing. “It would’ve looked charming. On the right person.” 

“Oh, so not me.” 

“Did I say that?” she replies, feigning innocence as she picks up a linen dress in soft green and holds it against herself in the mirror. “You never let me finish.” 

You watch her—just for a second too long. “It’s a good color on you.” 

She pauses, glancing at your reflection behind her shoulder. But instead of replying, she tosses the dress toward your arms. “Try it on.” 

“What?” 

“I’m not asking.” 

You sigh, mock-dramatic, but take it anyway. A few minutes later, you come out of the dressing room, tugging at the hem awkwardly. She’s waiting, leaning against a rack of scarves, watching you like it’s nothing. Like she hasn’t been staring the whole time. 

“Well?” you ask. 

Her eyes drag from your shoulder to your thighs and back up, just once. Then she shrugs, casual. “It’s fine.” 

You squint. “Just fine?” 

A smirk. “You’ll survive.” 

You try not to smile too hard as you duck back into the dressing room, changing quickly. When you step back out, Agatha is already paying for something at the counter. You glance at the bag in her hand, but she doesn’t offer what it is. 

You don’t ask. 

You step back into the sunlight, walking side by side now. 

What is this, really? 

She didn’t say the word date. This feels too easy to be a date. But too soft to be just nothing. So what is it? 

You shove the thought away before it gets too heavy, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. 

The boutique strolls continue—into another shop with candles and jewelry, then one with vintage postcards and hand-written poems typed on old paper. You don’t buy anything, just browse. Agatha makes you try on another hat. You roll your eyes but do it anyway, and she calls you “ridiculous” with a lightness in her voice that makes your chest ache. 

And then— 

Your stomach growls. 

Audibly. 

Agatha glances over, one brow arching. “Was that you?” 

You put a hand over your abdomen, like that’ll hide it. “Maybe.” 

She smiles faintly. “Where do you want to eat?” 

“Anywhere’s fine,” you reply quickly, and the moment you say it, her face drops into something flat and unimpressed. 

“Anywhere is not an answer.” 

You stare at her. She stares back, arms crossed, one brow raised. Waiting. 

You think for a second. “Chili’s?” 

She blinks, tilts her head. Then just says, “Okay,” like it’s nothing. Then turns and keeps walking like she didn’t just give you a tiny heart attack. 

You blink after her, stunned for a second, then jog a few steps to catch up. 

You walk together in companionable silence, and before long, the familiar red-and-white sign of Chili’s comes into view. Agatha opens the door before you can and gestures you in. You choose a booth, sliding into the side across from her. She reaches for a menu without a word, skimming it like she doesn’t already know exactly what she’s going to order. 

You're mid-scan of the drink options when you hear it— 

“Y/N?” 

You turn, already recognizing the voice. Kate. 

She’s walking toward you, a casual smile on her face. Behind your menu, you shoot a glance at Agatha—who is already looking at Kate. Her smile is polite. Perfect. But her eyes... unreadable. 

Kate stops at the edge of the table, hand on her hip. “Hey,” she says. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

You smile up at her. “Hey, yeah. Just, uh…” You glance at Agatha. “Catching up.” 

Kate’s eyes flick between you. “Governor Harkness,” she adds, nodding. 

Agatha smiles, tight-lipped. “Kate.” 

“Last night was wild,” Kate continues, laughing softly. “You were really drunk. I mean—Governor Harkness had to help you, right?” 

Your ears go warm. 

Agatha coughs lightly, eyes narrowing for just a second before she glances back at the menu, suddenly very invested in the appetizers. 

You give a nervous laugh. “Yeah. But I’m okay now.” 

Kate reaches out, runs her hand gently along your arm. “Good. You scared me a bit.” 

You glance at Agatha. Her posture hasn’t changed. But there’s something in her jaw now. Tight. Just barely. 

Kate looks at both of you. “So what’re you doing here?” 

You smile. “Like I said—just catching up.” 

Kate looks like she wants to ask more, but she doesn’t. Just nods slowly. “Right.” 

Agatha finally chimes in, voice pleasant. “Just catching up. Nothing more.” 

You look at her, and she’s still not quite meeting your eyes. 

Kate nods again. “Well—I was just craving Chili’s, so I stopped by.” 

“Good taste,” you say softly. 

She smiles at you—just you—and then says, “I’ll let you two get back to it. Don’t want to interrupt.” 

“See you around,” you say gently. 

“Take care,” Agatha adds, and the smile she gives is just barely there. 

Kate walks away. 

You exhale. 

Agatha flips the menu open again. Doesn’t say a word. 

You stare down at the table. 

The moment Kate is out of sight, the air shifts again. You don’t know what it becomes—just that it’s different now. A bit heavier. Still. 

Agatha turns another page of the menu she’s already read twice. You glance at her. She’s not looking at you. 

You clear your throat. “She just showed up. I didn’t know she was coming.” 

“I didn’t ask,” Agatha says flatly, eyes still scanning the page. 

You nod slowly. “Yeah. I just felt like I should say that.” 

She says nothing. 

You sigh and sink slightly into your seat, peering over the laminated menu in your hands. “You gonna judge me if I order chicken crispers?” 

“That depends.” She looks up finally. “Do you plan to dip them in three different sauces at once like a psychopath?” 

You give her a faux-offended gasp. “That’s called flavor layering.” 

She snorts. “It’s called concerning behavior.” 

You shake your head, smiling in spite of yourself. She closes her menu. 

The waitress appears a moment later, and you both place your orders. Agatha chooses something surprisingly basic—just a burger with no fuss. You stick with your beloved chicken crispers and fries. You consider getting a cocktail, but then remember what happened last night and decide water is enough. 

Once the waitress disappears, the silence returns. Not as awkward as before, but... not totally easy either. 

You toy with your straw. “So... catching up.” 

Agatha raises a brow. 

“That’s what we’re doing,” you say with a small shrug. “Just catching up.” 

She looks at you, unreadable for a long moment. “Is that what you think this is?” 

You blink. “Isn’t it?” 

Her mouth twitches like she’s holding back a smile, or maybe biting one down. She leans back in the booth, arms crossed now. “You tell me.” 

You open your mouth, but your brain short-circuits slightly, and before you can say anything that sounds remotely smart, the food arrives. 

Saved by the chicken. 

You both thank the waitress and begin to eat. The food’s actually good—greasy and salty and comforting. You’re focused on dipping a fry when you hear Agatha clear her throat. 

“There’s something on your face,” she says. 

You pause, hand halfway to your mouth. “Where?” 

She gestures vaguely. “Right here.” 

You reach up and miss completely. 

She sighs like you’re impossible, then leans over the table. You don’t really move—you’re too surprised. She uses the pad of her thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth, slow, careful. 

You freeze. 

Her touch lingers—not in a weird way. Just... long enough to feel warm. 

“There,” she murmurs. 

You’re aware your mouth is slightly open—just the way you were mid-bite when she leaned in. 

Agatha pulls her hand back. Her voice lowers. “You look like you’re about to thank me with your teeth.” 

You choke. Literally. 

The sip of water you just took hits wrong, and suddenly you’re coughing, sputtering, grabbing a napkin, eyes wide and panicked. 

“Breathe—breathe—” Agatha stands quickly, rounding the table as your shoulders shake. She kneels beside you, one hand on your back, the other steadying your arm. “Jesus—are you okay?” 

You cough hard, eyes watering, throat burning. 

“Don’t die in a Chili’s, for god’s sake,” she mutters urgently. “Not in this Chili’s.” 

You finally catch a breath—ragged but real—and wave your hand in a thumbs up but barely surviving gesture. 

She exhales sharply. “Are you sure?” 

You nod and croak out, “Wrong pipe.” 

Agatha stands slowly, not leaving your side until she’s sure you’ve stopped coughing. Then she returns to her seat, still eyeing you warily. 

You dab at your eyes. “That was so dramatic. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. I’ve always wanted to be seen dragging a woman out of a restaurant mid-chicken crisper.” 

You laugh, still wheezing. 

A beat. 

Then: “For the record,” she says quietly, “I meant that in a nice way. You looked...” 

You raise a brow, cautious. “Looked... what?” 

She gives a faint shrug. “...Appetizing.” 

Your brain short-circuits again. 

Agatha calmly picks up another fry. 

You stare at her. 

You’re pretty sure your soul just tried to leave your body through your ears. 

You both finish your food, and for once, you don’t rush. Agatha doesn’t either. She lingers, slowly sipping her drink like she’s not in a hurry to be anywhere else. 

And neither are you. 

Outside, the afternoon sun is mellow and warm. You squint against it as you walk side by side in silence, down the stretch of sidewalk leading toward the little commercial plaza you’d passed earlier. 

You glance at Agatha. 

“So,” you start, careful, casual, “I know something we could do.” 

Agatha doesn’t look at you. “If it involves you choking on more fried food, I’m going to pass.” 

You roll your eyes. “No. Arcade.” 

That gets her attention. She turns, one brow arched. “Are we twelve?” 

“Speak for yourself. I’m still emotionally fifteen.” 

She huffs a laugh, and then—more surprising—she nods. “Alright. Let’s go embarrass ourselves in public.” 

You grin. 

Inside, the arcade is lit up like a neon fever dream—flashing lights, cheesy sound effects, the low hum of teenagers yelling and games chirping. You exchange a look with Agatha, both of you blinking at the sudden assault on your senses. 

“I immediately regret this,” she says. 

You press a hand to her back, guiding her forward. “Too late. Come on, Governor.” 

Agatha mutters something under her breath but lets herself be led, and soon you’re both swiping a prepaid card through machines and yelling over pinball dings and air-blaster noises. You play a cooperative shooting game first—she's actually weirdly good, precise and deadpan while you flail beside her, constantly dying and coming back. 

“You’re scary,” you say as you lose another life. 

“I’m efficient,” she replies. 

“Yeah, that’s what serial killers say.” 

Agatha doesn’t deny it. 

Next, you tug her toward the claw machine. You both lose miserably three times in a row. She blames physics. You blame the rigged design. Then she actually wins a tiny stuffed bear on her fourth try and insists it was skill, not luck. 

“I’m a woman of many talents,” she says, holding the bear triumphantly. 

You deadpan, “Is humility one of them?” 

She smirks. “Not even a little.” 

Eventually, you find yourselves by the air hockey table. Classic, glowing, dramatic with its backlit scoreboard. 

Agatha runs her fingers over the edge of it thoughtfully. “Now this, I’ll destroy you at.” 

You give her a look. “You’re that confident?” 

“I’ve been playing this since I was a kid,” she says. “My cousins wouldn’t play with me anymore because I always won.” 

You snort. “Oh no, not a tragic backstory.” 

She narrows her eyes. “I’m serious.” 

You hold up your hands in surrender, smiling. “Okay, okay. Let’s see what you’ve got, champ.” 

You both take your places—just barely a few feet apart, the table narrow enough that her eyes are impossible to ignore. You slide the puck toward her, a lazy start. She returns it with a sharp snap that ricochets off the side and nearly catches your hand. 

You yelp. “Jesus! What happened to warming up?” 

“I play to win,” she says smoothly. 

“Oh my god, you're so annoying.” 

“Say that again after I’m six points ahead.” 

You narrow your eyes. “Okay, Harkness.” 

The game kicks off properly then. You're both laughing—yelling, even—as the puck flies back and forth. You land a few lucky points. Agatha gets one and does a full smug spin on the spot. 

You're about to serve again when her hand brushes yours—accidental, quick—but it jolts something in you anyway. She notices. You both freeze for a half-second. It’s stupid how loud the table sounds in the moment between you. 

You clear your throat. “You flinching already?” 

She gives you a pointed look. “Please. I could beat you blindfolded.” 

“Okay, now you’re just making up fantasies.” 

That—that—makes her falter for just a beat. Her smile flickers, eyes briefly glinting with something else. Mischief. Or something more dangerous. 

You both go quiet again. 

Then she exhales through her nose, grabs the puck, and hits it toward you with a clean, brutal strike. 

“Still your turn,” she says. 

You mutter something under your breath and chase after the puck. 

The game ends eventually—you don’t even remember who wins. You’re both too breathless with laughter by then, flushed and warm and, honestly, a little out of breath. 

Agatha leans against the side of the machine, her elbow grazing yours. 

You try not to notice how close she is. How her hair is falling into her face. How her lips part slightly when she’s catching her breath. 

She doesn’t step back. 

You don’t either. 

But no one says anything. 

You just stand there, shoulder to shoulder, watching the blinking scoreboard flash like it has something to celebrate. 

You’re both a little buzzed on laughter as you step out of the arcade, the late afternoon air already cooling down. It's golden hour now—everything looks softer, warmer, more romantic than it should. 

You don’t say anything when Agatha falls into step beside you. You just pull your keys from your jacket and lead her back to the car. 

The doors shut with a solid click, sealing you into the soft silence of the vehicle. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just start the engine, the low hum filling the space between you. 

She doesn’t put on her seatbelt right away. Just sits there with her eyes closed for a moment, like she’s grounding herself. 

You peek over. “Tired?” 

She exhales slowly. “More like… overstimulated.” Then she opens one eye and smirks faintly. “Too many flashing lights. Too many children screaming.” 

You chuckle. “I did say we’d embarrass ourselves in public.” 

“We didn't. I was amazing.” She clicks her seatbelt into place. “You, however, were embarrassing enough for both of us.” 

“Hey, I almost won air hockey.” 

“That was pity on my part.” 

You glance at her, pretending to be offended. “Is that what this is? A charity day out with the emotionally fifteen-year-old?” 

She looks out the window, her smile softening. “Could be.” 

Silence again. But not a bad one. Just… thoughtful. 

You drive. The streets roll by, warm light glinting off the car’s hood, the occasional palm tree slicing through your view. 

You finally break the quiet. “Did you have fun?” 

She turns to you. “I did.” 

A pause. 

You nod. “Me too.” 

Another beat. She shifts slightly in her seat, legs crossed, fingers fiddling with the stuffed bear from earlier—she hadn’t let go of it. That’s oddly endearing. 

You don't say anything else after that last little back-and-forth. The rest of the ride back to the hotel is quiet—not awkward, just... delicate. Like speaking too loud might pop whatever thin thread’s been holding the day together. 

You don’t even play music. Just the hum of the engine and the occasional click of the turn signal. Agatha looks out the window, one arm on the door, the other curled loosely in her lap. There’s something about the way the golden light hits her profile—serene, but a little tired too. 

You pull into the roundabout in front of the hotel and park. She unbuckles her seatbelt, already reaching for the door handle. 

“You don’t have to walk me in,” she says casually, glancing at you. 

“I know,” you reply, turning the engine off, “but I want to.” 

She hesitates just a moment, like she wants to argue. But she doesn’t. Just huffs a tiny breath and says, “Fine.” 

You both walk through the lobby, quiet again, but your steps feel more in sync now. There’s something calmer between you. Maybe not resolved, but… less raw. 

When you reach her door, she pulls out the keycard, swipes it, and pushes the door open. 

Then, turning to you, a little too casually:  “You want to come in? I was gonna make coffee.” 

You blink. “Coffee?” 

She shrugs. “Helps me wind down.” 

You hesitate. But then: “Okay. Sure.” 

She lets you in, leaves the door open behind her, and tosses the room key onto the side table. You follow slowly, taking in the room—it’s just a standard hotel suite, but it feels distinctly hers. Her blazer is draped over the back of a chair. A pair of heels kicked lazily by the edge of the bed. Her perfume still faint in the air. 

You settle by the desk while she fusses with the tiny in-room coffee machine. She glances over her shoulder. 

“You want some?” 

“Yeah. Just... a little.” 

“You always say that, and then you drink the whole cup.” 

You smile faintly. “Some things never change.” 

She looks at you then—really looks. And you feel it. 

The soft clink of the coffee mugs fills the silence. She hands you one and then moves to sit on the edge of the bed, sipping quietly. 

You sit in the chair near her, fingers around the warm mug. She watches you for a second, then says, gently: 

“So... where are you staying tonight?” 

You blink at her. “Oh. I—uh. I’m driving back to Olympia.” 

Agatha straightens. “Tonight?” 

You nod, slow. “Yeah. The campaign only covered my stay through this morning, so... figured I’d just head back.” 

“You’re tired.” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“No,” she says, setting her mug down firmly. “That’s not safe.” 

“Agatha, I’ve done worse—” 

She cuts you off. “I don’t care. You’re not driving tonight.” 

You raise your brows. “And what’s your plan? Kidnap me?” 

She stares at you, deadpan. “Stay. Here.” 

“In your room?” 

“Yes.” 

You give her a look. “Why?” 

She shrugs, and it’s the worst shrug you’ve ever seen. It’s full of everything she’s not saying. 

“It’s quiet here. Boring. I’d rather not have coffee alone.” 

You almost laugh. “That’s a terrible excuse.” 

“Take it or leave it.” 

You set your mug down, watching her. “I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

“There’s no couch.” 

“There’s a chair. I’ll make it work.” 

Agatha stands up, walks closer to you. “Don’t be stupid. The bed’s huge. It’s not like we haven’t shared one before.” 

Your breath catches a little, but you cover it with a smirk. “That was months ago.” 

“So?” She folds her arms. “Do you think I’ll kick you in my sleep?” 

“No. I think I might.” 

Agatha smiles��small, but warm. “You’ve changed.” 

You tilt your head. “Is that a good thing?” 

She doesn’t answer. Just walks to her suitcase, digs through it, and pulls out a folded pair of soft cotton pajamas. She tosses them at you. 

“They’ll be loose, but… clean.” 

You catch them, heart knocking into your ribs. 

You murmur, “Thanks.” 

She nods, not looking at you as she disappears into the bathroom to change. 

You’re left standing there in her room, in the soft quiet of a single lamp on, holding her clothes. 

Agatha steps out of the bathroom in a cloud of lavender-scented steam, wiping her face with a small hotel towel. Her hair’s damp now, swept back behind her ears, and she’s changed into a loose black shirt and pajama pants that fall just above her ankles. 

You look up from where you’ve been sitting on the edge of the bed, fingers still curled around your coffee mug. And for a second, you forget how to breathe. 

She notices, but she doesn’t say anything. 

She just pauses by the vanity, towel in hand, and glances at you through the mirror. Her voice is softer now. “Your turn.” 

You blink yourself back into motion, standing slowly, pajamas still folded in your arms. 

“Okay,” you murmur, and brush past her—close enough to feel the warmth still clinging to her skin from the shower. 

The bathroom is still thick with heat, the mirror fogged over, the scent of her soap lingering in the air. You change slowly, hands shaky and unsure. Her clothes are slightly big on you—soft, worn, and warm in places you don’t expect. The fabric brushes your skin like memory. 

You don’t look at yourself in the mirror. You’re not sure you’d recognize the version of yourself in it right now. 

When you return, Agatha’s already under the covers, half-buried in the thick hotel duvet. Her eyes lift to meet yours as you quietly shut the bathroom door behind you. 

You slide under the covers, careful not to disturb the quiet between you. You face the ceiling, hands tucked over your stomach. The cotton of her borrowed shirt smells faintly like her closet—like bergamot, old cedar drawers, and something floral you can’t name. 

The lights are dimmed now. Just a faint amber glow coming from the bedside lamp, casting soft shadows across the room. 

You’re both lying flat on your backs, sharing a pillow in the middle of the king-sized bed, the comforter pooled at your waists. Agatha’s arm is brushing yours, and neither of you moves. 

It’s the kind of quiet you only get at night. Still. Honest. A little dangerous if you let it linger too long. 

You exhale through your nose. “This feels weird.” 

Agatha turns her head toward you slightly. “Weird?” 

“Not bad-weird. Just... familiar. Like muscle memory.” 

She hums. “Camping. Malibu.” 

You glance at her. Her face is tilted toward the ceiling again, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. 

“Don’t remind me,” you groan. “I literally told them it was a bug bite.” 

Agatha lets out a short, surprised laugh — that rare, real kind. “You were so red. I thought you were gonna pass out when Jen started saying ‘What if it laid eggs.’” 

You nudge her with your shoulder. “That was your fault. You left a literal hickey on my neck like we were seventeen.” 

“You didn’t complain at the time.” 

You don’t say anything. 

Neither does she. 

The silence returns, but it’s thicker now, like the room itself is holding its breath. You let your eyes drift up to the ceiling again. 

And then — 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “For not contacting you after... you know. That one fight.” 

Agatha turns her head. You can feel her gaze on you now, but you keep yours upward. 

“That was seven years ago,” she says softly. 

“I know.” You swallow. “It’s just... it’s been sitting in me. I think I needed to say it.” 

Agatha waits. 

You let yourself go quiet for a beat before continuing. “I was upset. At you. Back then. I mean—I couldn’t even really be mad, because I was just your friend, right? But still... seeing you with him. Choosing him. I couldn’t handle it.” 

She doesn’t interrupt. 

You keep going. 

“So I disappeared. Not completely—I sent the birthday gifts, the Christmas ones. Never forgot the kids’ parties. But I couldn’t... I couldn’t see you like that and pretend I didn’t care. Pretend I was over it. I wasn’t.” 

She shifts, turning fully onto her side to face you. You can feel it. 

You do the same, slowly. 

“I thought,” you continue, voice barely above a breath, “that if I stopped seeing you, I’d get over you. And then that Malibu trip happened and—god, Agatha.” 

She closes her eyes briefly, like her chest aches at just the sound of her name on your lips. 

You keep going. You have to. 

“And then, I ruined it. I thought I was the one hurting. I thought what I heard that night—what I assumed—I thought you didn’t mean it with me. That it was just a break from your life. But it wasn’t.” 

Agatha opens her eyes. “No,” she says. “It wasn’t.” 

“You ran,” she says gently, “because you thought I didn’t choose you.” 

“I ran,” you admit, “because I loved you too much to be second place again.” 

Agatha’s hand finds yours between the sheets. Fingers brush. Thread. Stay. 

“I was trying to survive,” she says quietly. “I thought I was doing the right thing. That if I kept my family together, everyone would be proud. My parents. My friends. I thought I was being strong.” 

You squeeze her hand. “But you weren’t happy.” 

She shakes her head. 

“Ralph didn’t help,” she adds, a bitter smile playing at her mouth. “He just... existed. I raised the kids, ran the house, ran for office—and he just sat there.” 

“I called him a useless piece of shit.” 

Agatha laughs, breathy. “You did. I was so mad at you for it.” 

“You told me I crossed a line.” 

“I did. But only because you said out loud what I was afraid to admit.” 

The room goes still again. 

She rolls onto her back for a second, staring up. You follow. 

“I didn’t stay with him out of love,” she says. “I stayed because I didn’t want to be a disappointment. A politician, a mother, a woman in power—and divorced? It felt like failure. But staying was worse.” 

You turn your head to look at her. “You’re free now.” 

Agatha nods slowly. “Yeah, kinda” 

You say nothing. 

Until— 

“I’ve loved you longer than you think,” you whisper. 

Her breath catches. 

You turn fully toward her again, lying side by side, foreheads inches apart. 

“I was just really good at hiding it.” 

Agatha swallows, eyes soft and unreadable. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because I didn’t think you’d ever want me. Not in the way I wanted you.” 

Another beat. 

Then she reaches out, tentative, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You have no idea what I wanted.” 

“I do now,” you murmur. 

Agatha lets her hand linger against your cheek, her thumb brushing once, barely, across your skin. 

Neither of you moves further. 

Just staring. 

The room settles. Your bodies soften into each other, a quiet gravity pulling you in. Your fingers stay laced under the covers. 

You fall asleep like that. 

Touching, but not crossing. 

Wanting, but not rushing. 

Hope stirs in your chest—warm, messy, familiar. 

Because after a couple of months of longing, silence, and almost... 

She’s right here again. And this time, you’re not letting her slip away. 

Taglist: @6stolenangel9 @charlottelinlin1 @milflovers4 @claramelooo @loveshineslikethesky @kaymariesworld @marcelinaceciliarose @misskassycollins @greyella @theothersideofthescreen @whitelotus00 @agathaallalongg @psychickryptonitebouquet @sweetmidnights @angel-kitten-babygirl-u-choose @filmedbyharkness @brekker157 @rizzlesregal13 @starbucks-06 @aboutcustardcreams @crescendoofstars @neverfindmegone @mommy-mommy-mommy-hi @theonefairygodmother @isixxxx @hannah-0730 @starryjeongyeon @atlasimagines @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @darlingaura @upsidedowndanvers @iiiheartwomen

[minswriting]

okay but teaching inexperienced!reid the ways of risky sex!! like leaving a party early or something but you can’t wait because he’s just so cute and just pulling over somewhere quiet and absolutely fucking him in the backseat !!

nsfw | mdni | spencer reid x reader | car sex, unprotected sex, p in v, i rushed this 😔😔

after a party at the bureau, you and spencer were driving back to your apartment. you were dressed in a beautiful red dress that shimmered with each street lamp that you guys drove past while spencer was dressed in a suit. neither of you drank, not wanting to make a fool out of yourselves in front of your co-workers. however, to say you were horny was an understatement.

spencer looked g o o d. his curls framed his face so nicely, looking messy while also looking perfect. his suit seemed as though it was tailored to his frame, accentuating his small muscles. it was why you guys had left the party early, neither of you could wait to get your hands on each other.

“i can’t wait any longer,” spencer sighed as he pulled over on the quiet road. it was semi-late, almost midnight so no one was on the roads at all. “i need you now,” he said as he put the car in park.

“god i need you too,” you exclaimed, unbuckling your seat belt. and within a few movements, spencer’s seat was pushed back while you crawled onto his lap, straddling him as he kissed your lips.

the two of you have never had sex anywhere else other than the bedroom. however, recently, you have been teaching spencer how to be more adventurous with sex and boy was he a quick learner. you had, in passing, mentioned the idea of car sex at some point. but you hadn’t expected it to be tonight. though you most certainly were not complaining.

you kissed spencer heatedly, making out with him as his hands explored your body through your dress. you reached a hand between the two of you, moving it down to his belt buckle as you began to undo it. “i need you inside me, spence,” you whispered.

spencer let out a small whimper at your words. he looked down at his hard cock through his trousers before looking back up at you. “i need to be inside of you, baby,” he whispered back.

you unzipped spencer’s pants, undoing them just enough to expose his cock. spencer grabbed your dress, bunching it up. “neither of us decided to wear underwear, huh?” he whispered to you.

you let out a breathless chuckle, nodding your head. “i guess not.” you grabbed the base of spencer’s cock, causing him to whimper from the touch as you guided his member to your cunt. you eased yourself onto his cock, letting out a small whine.

“oh fuck,” spencer moaned as he finally felt your wet and tight walls around his cock, closing his eyes in pleasure.

when his cock was all the way inside of you, you stayed still for just a moment, adjusting to having him inside of you. you looked around outside the car windows, ensuring that no one was around. and the finally, you started moving up and down spencer’s length. “oh my god,” you gasped, putting your hands on his shoulders.

spencer’s hands went around your waist as you rode his cock. he leaned forward to bury his face in your neck. “you feel so fucking good, so good.”

“you fill me up so good, spence,” you said breathlessly as you moved faster on his cock. you closed your eyes in pleasure, throwing your head back as you rode him. his cock was hitting deep inside of you, making you see stars pretty much. it always did. and you always loved spencer’s cock. just as much as he always loved your pussy.

spencer began to babble into your skin, giving you praises about how good your pussy was, how you’re always so good to him, you absolutely beautiful you were. and it all spurred you on. you let out a choked moan as you angled yourself so his cock hit your g-spot repeatedly.

“am gonna cum, oh my god, i’m so close, baby,” spencer moaned, meeting your hips with his own thrusts.

“o-oh fuck,” you whined, grinding your hips. “me too, spence. please cum for me, need you to cum inside me.”

and with your words, spencer let out a pained sounding chuckle and a “holy shit,” as his cock stiffened and he came inside of you. he filled you up with his cum, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. you let out a high pitched moan, his orgasm making yours happen as well. your walls clenched around his cock as your thighs started shaking.

when the both of you finally, the two of you breathed heavily. the desire that you both felt had finally been satiated. you eased off of spencer’s cock, maneuvering yourself back to the passenger seat. the both of you relished in the post orgasmic glow, not speaking a word.

and after about five minutes, spencer tucks himself back into his pants before turning the car back on. “i’m going to fuck you again when we get to your apartment,” he stated, glancing at you with a grin. he then turned back to the road, driving once more.

you laughed, tugging your dress down. “sounds like a fantastic plan to me.”

[l0relaii]

I just read that Connor writing you did about reader being the neighbor and I NEEEEEEDDDD the rest you’re such an amazing writer that cliffhanger got me😔

ohh my god thank you <3

it was my first time writing smth for connor and i was a bit nervous so ig that's why i left it at that 😭

part 1

"i'm sorry, this has never happened before-"

"d'you need.. any help with it?"

"i guess i do.. could uh- could you help me?"

"i thought you'd never ask"

now he was sat on your couch looking around the room. he'd never been over to your place before so he was trying to analyze anything that could tell him something about you that he didn't already know

he saw some books on a shelf, titles he recognized, some of them he knew you burrowed from hank

some makeup products amongst which he spotted what he assumed was your favourite shade of lipstick, since you wore it almost all the time, just like you were now

he memorized it, the image of your lips coated in that pretty shade. he'd often even fantasize about them

he wondered how they would feel like against his own when you kissed him, how his skin would look like littered with stains from you

he looked at the walls at every picture frame, some of them were of you, some of them of people he did not recognize

but what caught his eye was the little picture frame on the drawer next to the tv. a picture of you between him and hank holding sumo up by his front legs

he had the same picture on his nightstand at hanks place, their place

he remembered that day so clearly. it was the day he started acknowledging the fact that he might be falling in love with you

he snapped out of the trance like state he was in when you sat beside him shyly, your attitude so different from when you invited him in. your cortisol levels were higher than usual

you were stressed.

you were the one who offered to help him, so why are you feeling so anxious? you wondered where did all that boldness go?

he agreed to your offer, so you know he's expecting something from you

"uhh, have you.. have you done this before?"

"what? engaged in sexual intercourse? no, i haven't, yet"

"oh so.. you know how things are done, right? i supposed it's the same thing as if you were a hum- oh shit, i'm so so sorry that sounded so wrong-"

"you don't need to apologize, it's the truth, i'm an android, but that doesn't matter, right?"

his hand sneaks onto your thigh giving you a reassuring squeeze. his touch is pleasant, very pleasant

you wonder how you could go such a long time without it? without having him so close to you

interesting how such a small interaction can have such a big effect on you. now he's curious what other type of interaction may result in

"yeah i guess you're right.."

you lean towards him instinctively, connor mimicking your movement. you're so close to him, you can see every little freckle and mole on his face, god he's so handsome

your noses almost touch while you do some analyzing of your own. then you see his LED has turned from the previous peachy colour to a light pink shade

that's new as well

before you can ask him about it he closes the gap between you two, finally getting to feel the softness of your lips against his

everything is happening so fast that you don't even realize you ended up in your bedroom caged under his weight

your head is spinning and your ears are ringing while he trails kisses on your exposed neck

in your trance like state, lost in your own thoughts, you once again fail to notice when all your clothes disappear, thrown by connor somewhere on your bedroom floor

you feel his hands rubbing up and down your body, inspecting you, analyzing you while he feels your sweet scent invading his system

his thigh is nudged between your legs grinding up into you and his LED is flickering fastly, a now hot pink shade lighting up in the dim light of the room

you didn't even think he was.. equipped with the parts you're seeing now, that you feel poking at your thigh

sure, you heard about androids designed to do only this, their sole purpose being to pleasure humans

but after all, he was one of cyberlife's most advanced models, maybe they thought he'd need this in some investigation?

you read in an ad for the eden clubs about the traci models, and you remember feeling sick to your stomach after finding out what some humans did to the poor androids, how could anyone do this to another being?

that's the problem, they were not beings in the eyes of the cruel people that tortured them

The WR400 models are the most advanced design of sex partners. These specially developed models are equipped with functional genitals and are designed to fulfill all fantasies, from the most common to the most exotic.

The WR400 can easily be customized to alter their appearance at will, catering to the tastes of any client. Sexual intercourse with such machines does not fall under prostitution and is not prohibited by any law.

machines. that's all they were in the eyes of the monsters that did all those horrible things to them, no wonder some of them deviated and killed their aggressor

you didn't feel pity for them, why should you? they got exactly what they deserved, no one should be treated that way

you look up at him and into his eyes noticing the warmth and emotion in them while he analyzes you too. how could someone look at an android and not see a living being? another human?

connor looks human, sounds human, acts human and you sure do know that he thinks and feels like a human

hank told you what happened at the club, after the first time you saw connor dragging the grumpy hungover lieutenant in the car

later that night he called you asking you to come to the park

you didn't ask him what happened, where he went, what he did and why the hell he was in the park so late at night

instead you got dressed for the cold weather and put on the lovely coat you got for sumo to match the blue color of his leash

hank would often tease you and laugh at your overcaring personality towards his dog, but he was glad that you were there to take care of sumo when he couldn't

he also felt guilty about not being there for his furry companion at times, but at least he was glad that he had you

"he's a dog honey, he won't feel the cold, don't you see all that damn fur? i sure do see it on my clothes"

you responded in a baby voice scratching the saint bernard's head while he licked at your hand

"ohh, is that so boy? are you shedding again? maybe we should brush you this evening, what about a bath, huh? you'd like that sumo?"

the only response you got was an excited loud bark and fast wagging of his big fluffy tail

of course he didn't understand a damn thing you said, he just loved when you talked to him using that voice

you were sure he wouldn't love it when he ended up in the bathtub later that evening

you once read somewhere that his breed adores 'water activities such as playtime in the shallow waters but also swimming a bit deeper' maybe the tub wasn't deep enough for his liking? and the dog shampoo you rubbed on him surely didn't help

you knew where to find hank, he always sat on the same bench. he once told you he used to come here with his son, before the tragic accident happened

you recognized his car and your heart skipped a beat when you saw connor in the passenger seat

you tapped on the window and when he rolled it down you could hear the familiar heavy metal your neighbour liked to blast out in the middle of the night

connor told you that there was a "minor issue that had occurred" between them, that hank said he'd go and get "more drunk" but he just paced around the bench while he went back to the car

his answers were so calculated and stoic back then, his tone cold and so different from the tone he used right now to compliment and praise you

"such a good girl f'me.. so eager to help me.. d'you know how long i've been waiting to do this..?"

you feel his fingers dragging through the dampness between your legs while he is smirking at you

"mno.. a-ahh fuck- connor please-"

"since the first time i saw you..d'you know i thought you were hank's wife at first? fuck you have no idea how relived i was when he told me you were just his neighbour.. "

he remembered seeing you later that same night, after his argument with the lieutenant.

you brought sumo with you in a blue fluffy coat and asked him to watch the dog while you had a talk with his partner

he watched you walk angrily to where the man was sat on the bench and he saw your pissed off expression when you snatched the bottle from his hands and smashed it on the ground

"hey, what the fuck d'you think you're doing you fucking andro- oh, sorry i thought you were-"

"seriously hank? was it not enough when you almost got yourself into a coma earlier?"

"wait, how'd you kno-"

"oh i don't know, maybe because i saw the broken window and the bottles in your kitchen when i came after sumo? damn it hank, you have to stop or you'll end up killing yourself one day"

"oh spare me the lecture darling, y'know you sound just like him right now"

"like who?"

"like the cocky bastard sitting in my car, always bragging about accomplishing every mission, well guess what, this time he didn't"

he told you about what happened at the club, how they caught the two deviants responsible for a murder, how connor couldn't wouldn't shoot them

you knew then, even before he did, that he was slowly becoming a deviant himself

slowly becoming the man who currently held you close to his chest while entered you slowly

"fuuck sweetheart.. you feel so good wrapped around me.."

he felt you clinging to him desperately whimpering when he was fully inside you where he stayed still, letting you accommodate while feeling your pulsing walls squeezing him

"thought you'd be more uh- bold after seeing you deal with hank so many times.."

he liked how you put the loud mouthed lieutenant in his place every time he acted up, something he couldn't do since he had to obey him but he loved seeing you doing it in his place

but seeing you so different and submissive while squirming under him turned him on so much, especially when he knew that he was the one to make you act that way

"oh, i'm sorry it's just that-"

"i'm not complaining.. i actually like it"

he starts moving slowly while rubbing your hip, a comforting touch that made your stomach flutter

his pace was a slow one, dragging out every thrust while relishing in the way you felt and sounded

after you were done he held you close to his chest rubbing circles into your shoulder blades with his strong yet gentle fingers

he was afraid you were going to ask him to leave, maybe this was just a casual thing to you, you were just 'helping' him, as you said you would earlier that evening

what if you were only doing what hank asked you? helping him.. explore what being human felt like

and fuck he felt so alive in that moment, it was like you two (and the sleeping dog in your living room) were the only creatures on the planet, nothing mattered

not anymore when he was here, with you

"please don't go.."

"i won't, i promise"

[burningcheese-merchant]

Ok here are my actual thoughts on the update. Actual, genuine spoilers ahead

Best part about CRK updates is most of them drop right after I'm done with everything for the day and have total free time lol

Getting this out of the way: unfortunately, there is no gay shit between Fire Spirit and Pitaya Dragon. The best we get is this

You can interpret this as "Pitaya Dragon is still inside of me", which is pretty gay when you think about it. I suppose that counts for something

Anyway,

Starchy the Moletato is now one of my favorite NPCs. He's adorable. His interactions with Fire Spirit are adorable. He has an Irish accent in the English dub, which is adorable. His design is adorable. I want to put him in my pocket and feed him potato chips.

This is so fucking funny dude. They're so fucking funny. They should be in a buddy cop movie together

Fire Spirit's personality is ON POINT. Loud, obnoxious, witty, irreverent. Fun-loving. Tough and proud and full of life. A huge jerk most of the time, but when push comes to shove, he comes through for people. An asshole with a heart of gold. MY asshole with a heart of gold 🔥❤️

Mixed feelings about Agar Agar. In the sense that, she's clearly extremely dangerous and needs to be stopped, but... I also feel bad for her. I'm not sure she understands the gravity of what she's doing. Her backstory states that she was alone and starving at the bottom of a sealed well for a long time, before being found by Pomegranate. This is... the 4th? child to be taken advantage of by Dark Enchantress and the CoD. Agar Agar feels like she has purpose, that someone cares for her, and that she can finally do something about her insatiable hunger (which is clearly causing her a lot of pain and distress). It's pretty sad. But idk what should really be done with/about her. She NEEDS to be put away; her appetite depends on living beings, and she can and will destroy everything around her and hurt/kill others, not to mention her stealing powers with her mirror. But... idk. Poor girl. She knows not what she does

All that aside, Agar Agar is super cool. Her design is fantastic, as is her voice. Those plus the mirror come together to really sell the creep factor. She reminds me of an onryō or some other sort of yokai (I say yokai specifically bc she gives that particular vibe to me). Hype as fuck

Fuck Pomegranate, all my homies hate Pomegranate

Didn't know there were mines in the Dragon's Valley. Who built them? Who uses them? Just the moletatoes? Do the valley tribes ever go to them? Does Pitaya Dragon know about them? Approve of them and the fact that they exist to siphon valley resources? I need answers, man

Story felt... a little rushed? It was fine for what it was, but idk. I thought Fire Spirit would have to work harder to win. I knew right from the jump that the key was to break the mirror. I guess I just thought it would take more to do so

God... God........... His costume.......... His look.......

God he looks so good... So handsome... So sleek... So FIRE 🔥🔥🔥 and the transformation sequence... Ugh. Chef's kiss. I gotta make it my banner somehow

I just really, really love Fire Spirit's sprites. ESPECIALLY the excited looking one where you see pupils:

I never knew such a small touch would make such a big difference. He looks so damn good with those. It gives him so much more life (and he already has a lot!). 100/10

Windy!!!!

"I expected a much warmer welcome." Wasn't expecting the bestie to try to shoot him on sight, poor guy 😔 it happens. Accidents happen. We forgive and forget for the sake of our homies

Funny, in-character, for Fire Spirit to try to weasel out of responsibility. Doubly so with Wind Archer (I always liked imagining that aspect of their friendship/duo. Wind being the overly serious one and Fire being like "lol you're such a downer 🤪 why so serious? Who cares, we can worry about shit later, let's have fun"). Buuuuuut ever so slightly frustrating, too. I would've liked a thought bubble where he acknowledges the seriousness of the situation, but still chooses to go "fuck man. I just need a minute. Just one.". Something a little stronger than the nonchalance he kept showing to Wind. Something to contrast that, to show that he's really forcing himself to pretend to be calm and composed, when in reality he's disturbed and worried as fuck

Fire Spirit joining the war 🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥 I knew he would, but it's still cool to hear him say it lol. I need him to show up at a council meeting, just strutting in like a peacock, acting like he owns the place, and half of the crowd is excited he's there while the rest are annoyed by his attitude lol

I'll be honest. I was hoping Fire Spirit would have a role to play against Eternal Sugar. Idk why, but... I wanted him there. Maybe just because of Pitaya (who was also enlisted in the war against Dark Enchantress, and will probably be joining Hollyberry in Beast-Yeast). Like... he knows Pitaya is probably going to need help due to their waning power, and he wants to help (disguising it as "hey bozo, if you die then I die too"). A bit like how Wind Archer had a mini face-off with Shadow Milk, you know? Does that make sense? Maybe I'm just a whiner

One extra PitayaFire thought, because I am desperate lol. The part I displayed above, where he says that he hasn't felt this fired up since Pitaya Dragon saved him... The way he smiles at the memory, and knowing that that power still lies within him, ready whenever he is... It's like Pitaya saved him again. Like he was there, waiting for the moment Fire Spirit needed him most. Just like before. And Fire Spirit acknowledges that he was happy then, and is happy now (he does this in Ovenbreak, too). Excited, even. All because of Pitaya, in the end... (I need ship fuel so bad, moletatoes. I need y'all to wake up to this ship and start making fanart. Please I'm so alone. Please. Please they make sense together I promise-)

[xuterboo]

Good time everyone!

The cutting and analysis of images continues, and today my hands finally reached the Lost Paradise.

Let's meet our beauties!

Let's start with the broken king. Lost Paradise has quite a motley crew. Also, everything on the clothes is very scattered. Lucifer is wearing a strict black suit and a white striped shirt. An interesting observation: for Luci, both when he was still an angel and when he fell, The chest is open, emphasizing the scar. And he did not appear because of a fall from heaven. The scar was probably received before these events. (Fight for Seraphim's place?)

As shown in Liouifer's stories, his snake is alive, or rather, can come to life and move on its own.

I just want to throw in one thought: the biblical seraphim were created only to fly next to God and sing into his ears that he is so wonderful. This means that all Seraphim, including Luci, have a beautiful voice)

Well first of all, gooooospaby, how I love this dragon!!

And secondly, doesn’t it seem strange to anyone that the staff of Gamigin (the dragon) are different from Gamigin (the demon)? As you know, Gamigin (dragon) devoured the demon who slept with him, and apparently the dragon's pearl greatly changed the staff.

The gamigin himself is dressed in formal attire. But the casual look of directional sleeves makes the look looser. And also sneakers. Sneakers, damn it. Okay, if he likes it, then I won't mind. Blue color evokes pleasant and gentle sensations, but also helps reduce the desire to sleep. Nice contrast between Gamigin's activity and tenderness

Marbas... His clothes are more like ordinary clothes in a mental hospital, but the factory did not have white fabric, and they took some kind of black one. I still don’t quite understand why he would chain himself in this during a fight. This is inconvenient and even dangerous. Either I don't understand something, or I don't understand something. But nevertheless, he has a very interesting design.

No shoes. My pants are constantly falling down (my friend: Was it too weak to lower my pants any lower?) I have a long-sleeve shirt that reveals my shoulders almost completely. Acts as a straitjacket, but looks good in everyday life. (I hope it doesn't hurt for him to walk😔)

My sunshine Morax!☺️ I love him so much, I just can’t 🥹

He already has a more strict form of someone like a general. It can be assumed that he is more responsible for the military part of Lost Paradise .

He is probably in the same position as Glasialabolas (I hope I wrote it correctly), but as we have already noticed, PL is a more modest country than in Hades. Origin unknown. Most likely born in LP

He's covered in bandages. God, please give him a rest. Tie him down, but let him recover.

Next up is Buer. One of two demons, behind which there is some kind of creature. You can guess from his clothes that he is from Tartarus. But with feet stained with the gold of the Tartarus River, his origins are confirmed.

Dressed in a kimono of gold, red and black. In China these colors mean wealth (who would doubt it), joy and prosperity. (Buer makes me feel like he is a Chinese healer living high in the mountains. Healing, only those who have a pure soul, hee hee hee)

Also, according to official data from the Belphegor event, I am adding Batin to this collection, since he was born in the Lost Paradise.

He is a laid back lover of travel. Like most of the demons of Paradise Lost, he is dressed in black. Apparently in Nifelheim, Batin is also something of a general. In every country, one way or another there is a demon responsible for the troops, but in Gehenna this is not visible, since everyone has the same uniform.

I'm not entirely sure what culture Paradise Lost represents, as there's a lot going on there. I think this is the people who came together piece by piece from other countries. They brought something of their own to the new lands, combining knowledge with others, and this is how they turned out to be a unique nation. Friendly and quiet by nature. But as soon as you get to know them better, you will immediately see the warmth,which they emit. Although there is another facet that is in the shadows - their cruelty and indifference. It is shown when Adu or their loved ones.

The text turned out longer than I thought. OK...Thank you for reading! Write your interesting observations or thoughts about Paradise Lost!

[nymphomatique]

-ahem after reading your nerd/loser!Miguel I just CANT ✊😩 ❤ I gonna need ask orrrr request something !...YOU MADE SOMETHING AWOKEN something in me that I i JUST can't explain😵😳 but NEED TO BE RELEASED (😏) and now today I wanted to request my take on it if that ok with you 😌😏

Ok hear me out nerdy loser/horny!Miguel x YOU GUESS IT popular/richfm!reader 😝!!!..

So let me explain the plot first 😌 .so let just say we never seen Miguel (it been an long time since) only remember that name while reader was in highschool and reader was one of Miguel bully I guess.. (even though she not the one laying an hand on him 😒😔) as she just watch as her popular group of friends bullied Miguel seeing him have tear down acting nothing like an man... ( what an man baby)'Which taught was more *interesting* about this nerd. but reader always think he was cute (I guess reader say it in her mind) even if he was an loser nerd at high school and more of an quite guy and only care for work.but the best part of Miguel in high school is that he ALWAYS obey no matwhat towards you/fm!reader 😩(god I don't know if I have to explain the next scene but I think I just hints some 😝😋 blow jobs overstuim- i mean many !! I want to see. Him cry on the desk while reader under it 🗣✊)

This is could be an flash back honestly I don't care 🗣🗣 I hope your doing great and having an awesome day

you were cooking nonnie‼️ i hope this translated well into writing. and yes timeskip crumbs 🤭

cw: no smut in this one folks! timeskip present, mentions of cannabis use, miguel gets bullied ;(, reader saves him tho dw, genuinely just fluff, teeny bit of d/s stuff, allusions to sex at the end. italic text is a high school flashback! enjoy 🫶🏾

“i cannot believe you had braces!” miguel laughs at your yearbook picture. you smack his arm and roll your eyes at his laughter.

“s’not funny. was only my freshman year.” you mumble,

“i’m just kidding honey, you’re still gorgeous, braces or not,” he says, kissing your temple. the two of you were sitting on your couch in your shared condo, looking at your old high school yearbook.

“you’re flattering me to get in my pants,” you quip. miguel wraps an arm around you and kisses your neck whispering low. “don’t need flattery to do that.”

you push his face away and snort. “when did you get so suave, mr. o’hara?” you question. “you weren’t as smooth in high school if u remember correctly.”

“you’d be right, but meeting you changed me for the better, no?” he flips the yearbook pages, finding his picture in the sea of others.

“maybe you changed me,” you say lowly.

“aww, come on pete, lay off him will you?” flash thompson laughs. “nah, he’s too easy,” peter replies. they had been roaming the halls, cutting class to smoke a joint. since peter was out early, he figured meeting you once your class period was over would be fun, high sex in the bathroom stalls was on his bucket list after all, and you never told him no when it came down to a good time.

in the midst of both flash and peter roaming the halls, they had ran into miguel o’hara, clutching his books in his hands during his free period, roaming the halls like them. nudging flash in his shoulder, peter made a show of miguel. he had pushed him into the lockers, feigning accident. miguel hit the rusted metal with a thud, dropping his books in the process.

“oh, did i bump you? my deepest apologies,” peter mocks, flash not even trying to hide his smile. miguel looks up from his place on the ground between the two, rubbing his shoulder that hit the locker. not worth it, he thinks, and moves to reach one of his books. before he can grab it, peter kicks it across the hall. miguel’s eyes stay focused on the ground. “aww, what happened? you got butterfingers, o’hara?” flash laughs.

“pick up your fuckin’ books, you’re blocking the hall,” peter directs towards miguel. miguel stays unmoved, pushing his glasses up his nose, eyes still glued to the floor. peters angry, feeling disrespected. “hey,” he says, and the hostility beginning to bubble in his voice is clear. “you fuckin’ deaf or what? i said pick up for fuckin-”

“the fuck is going on here?” you interrupt, seeing peter and flash freeze for a split second. you had left a while ago to go to the bathroom and skip class, but had decided to stop by your lockers, where you found peter and flash bullying some random.

“hey, baby,” peter begins. your eyebrow raises and he drops the act. “we uh- we were just tryna help h-”

“can it. i can smell the pot off you guys, fuckin’ gross. get outta here before you get caught with no hall pass,” you dismiss both peter and flash. peter makes way to kiss you goodbye but you move your head, your eyes telling him to get the fuck on.

when both peter and flash are long gone down the hall, you turn to miguel. “hey,” you say. he finally looks up at you and you see tears welling in his eyes. you wince, and wordlessly kick his book back to him. watching him gather up his books is almost disheartening, usually you laugh at something this pathetic. your feelings get the better of you, so you walk to miguel and buy your hand on his chin, lifting his head up to look at you. the eye contact sends a weird feeling in your chest, his tear stained brown eyes filled with emotion.

“chin up, dweeb,” you say, touching the tip of his nose and winking at him before you get up and leave, off to see what trouble peter found himself in.

miguel is in shock. that’s the first time he’s ever been talked to by someone popular. a popular girl at that. miguel looks back at your figure walking away, hips swaying with determination and he feels his heart swell in his chest.

“you gettin all sappy on me now, baby?” miguel quips. “funny. you must have forgotten what to address me as. i’ve been too nice to you,” you reply, your gaze intense. miguel swallows and his whole demeanour changes. “i didn’t forget, mistress,” he replies. you smile, getting up from the couch, pulling miguel up by his shirt to follow you.

“that’s my good boy.”

[cieloclercs]

what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc

PART: 1/?

summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more

warnings. swearing, reader and charles are oblivious idiots but they’re cute so it’s ok, ending is annoyingly abrupt (sorry)

pairings. charles leclerc x artsy!reader

face claim. tara michelle

author’s note: so this is a multi-part social media fic inspired by this ask that i’ve been working on for a while. as always, all media and pictures used in this belongs to the original creators. hope you guys enjoy! ps, all i really know about art is what i learned in my gcse class (and my teacher was awful) so if i use any incorrect terminology at any point in this series i’m so sorry! i’m trying my best 🫶

liked by pierregasly and 11,386 others

yourusername monaco summer 🐚🌊🦋☁️

view all comments…

yourfriend prettiest ever 🥹

yourusername oh hush you 🤭

username girl your figure 😮

username she literally has my dream body 😭

charles_leclerc no photo credits? 😃

yourusername 🙄🙄 photo creds to char ig

arthur_leclerc looking a little windswept there

yourusername do you want me to block you again

arthur_leclerc no thanks u look very pretty !!!!

yourusername aww thank you arth 🥰

username wait who tf is this girl and how does she know charles??

username she’s his childhood best friend! they’ve known each other since they were five 🫶

username i firmly believe y/n y/l/n is a goddess not a human being

*charles_leclerc liked this comment

username CHARLES WHAT THE FUCK???

liked by carlossainz55 and 2,376,926 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc opening day for y/n’s latest exhibition, ‘flow’! je suis très fière de toi, mon artiste. ne jamais cesser de rêver 🌊 / beyond proud of you, my artist. never stop dreaming

view all comments…

username now if this isn’t obsessed boyfriend behaviour then i don’t know what is

yourusername aww charlie 🥹 merci de m'avoir soutenu, je vous en serai toujours reconnaissant / thank you for supporting me, i’m forever grateful

charles_leclerc toujours

username and they say they’re just friends?? THIS IS NOT FRIEND BEHAVIOUR

username omg these paintings are so beautiful! what’s the exhibition about?

charles_leclerc it’s a study of water and the ocean!

username they way he’s answering questions about y/n’s own exhibition for her 😭 babes ur not subtle x

username she’s so talented wtf

*charles_leclerc liked this comment

leclerc_pascale Incroyable 😍

yourusername merci, maman 🥰

username SHE CALLS PASCALE MAMAN OH MY GOD???

liked by joris_trouche and 17,936 others

yourusername summer break, week one ✅

view all comments…

username everyone say ‘thank you y/n’ for feeding us the soft charles content 🥹

username thank you y/n 🙏

joris_trouche elvis is the star of this dump

yourusername i’ll let him claw you again

joris_trouche PLEASE DONT

charles_leclerc woah who’s that handsome guy in slide 2? 😏

yourusername you wouldn’t know him he’s kind of annoying x

charles_leclerc ouch

username charles featuring twice?? we’re losing her 😔

username three guesses who took the pictures of y/n

username hmm…joris? 🤔

username try again

username elvis 🤨

username close!! but not quite

username is it maybe…charles?!

*charles_leclerc liked this comment

username bingo!!

username trade lives with me please 😫

charles_leclerc i hope summer never ends

yourusername you and me both

username he doesn’t want to go back to the sf-23 and ferrari fucking up his race every week 😔

*yourusername liked this comment

username LMAO Y/N LIKED

username she’s just as sick of ferrari’s shit as we are

joris_trouche everyone ignoring the fact that i’m also in this dump as well !!!

charles_leclerc mate you’re not even looking at the camera

username GAHAHAHA CHARLES

➜ part 2

[very-super-silly]

GUESS WHO JUST GOT BACK FROM WATCHING THNDERBOLTS!!!!!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!!!! I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS

(spoilers ahead)

i love bob. he deserves the world. my bipolar son

yelena is such a depressed queen i love her 😭💔 shes so me core (sad)

btw everyone is depressed 🔥🔥🔥 i lowkey only get into media where everyone is depressed im not even joking is this a problem

I HATE JOHN WALKER. STILL. WHAT A FUCKING FUCK. I HATE HIM. NOT ONLY DID HE DISRESPECT MY QUEENS. BUT HE IS AN ASSHOLE!!!!!!! HIS EX WIFE TOTALLY DESERVED BETTER IT IS A GOOD THING SHE DIVORCED HIM

bucky sick entrance #3 (catfa, caatws, and now, thunderbolts) it was so fucking sick when he like fucking grabbed their wench then slammed it into the geound and fucking flipped their car????RAFGGHGN i crashed out

for a second i thought we had a winter soldier comeback it was so good (ragshfhr i wonder what bucky was telling sam abt this whole thing i js KNOW sam clowned him for the dramatic entrance)

OH SHIT WAIT THO AINT NO WAY THEYRE MAKING BEEF BETWEEN BUCKY AND SAM???? THE END CREDITS, SAM IS SUING THE THUNDERBOLTS BC THEYRE THE “new avengers” THIS BETTER BE THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM BECAUSE IF THEY BREAK UP MY BFS IM SUING MARVEL STUDIOS (theyre haters)

(more under the cut)

i really appreciated the “less action” climax if you will for the more emotionally impactful one, because holy shit. i cried so hard.

i also cried when yelena and her dad confronted each other 😭😭💔 i love them fheivndifnekdneifhejwks

and btw bucky just like?? relived all his trauma in the fucking “shame rooms” or whatever was happening when the poeple got shadowed??? thays crazy 😭

i really appreciated the dark humor ay the beginning too, really my type of movie (this is one of my all time favorite marvel movies now)

augh i mean i know this is like. the whole basis of the movie. but i really loved how they are all bad, depressed, fucked up people, but they still get to become the new avengers like <3 my heart bruh. i love them all (except john walker)

ALSO?????? NOT VALENTINA BUYING STARK TOWER IM CRASHING OUT 💥💥💥

RAGHHHH YK WHAT ELSE????? FANTASTIC FOUR FUCKING COMING TO THE MARVEL UNIVERSE WIFNUEKDNFHRUDDJD “INTER DIMENSIONAL SPACECRAFT” AAAAAAAHH YIPPEEE YIPPPEEE

btw bob and yelena <3 i love them. SO MUCH.

OH SHIT ALSO THAT PERSON WHO JUST FUCKING DIED AT THE VERY BEGINNING?? THE PERSON FROM THE RED ROOM/BLACK WIDOW??? OH MY GOD???? GHOST JUST LIKE SHOT HER. AND THAT WAS IT. SHE WAS THERE FOR LIKE. 1 SECOND? I FEEL SO BAD FOR YELENA THAT MUSTVE STUNG LIKE SHIT

btw valentinas subordinate mal was so silly i love her morally greyness (shes also fine af) i want her and kate bishop to meet, i think theyd get along great

did not live up to my sambucky expectations bc of the end credit and no sam mention 😔 but thats fine ig cus being delusional is fun or whatever (they will get back together. i am speaking it into existence.)

i love robert. bob. i love him x2

i absolutely ADOREEE how they touched on mental illness. thats what this whole movie was about. depression, bipolar/ or multiple personality disorder, and how you should connect with people, theyll help you, youre not alone, its not your fault, etc. absolutely amazing. i cried it was so. it was like so representational, relatable, just amazing and comforting. maybe mot everything was exactly right but like. i really felt the impact and message and it really felt like id been seen idk.

buckys “yeah.. this is such a worrying thing… we're getting right on it.. worrying circumstances… yeah… uhh and yeah despite the worrying situation were handling it”

bucky def going to go rouge. buddy still hates the government ❤️

BTW THEYRE THE NEW AVENGERS NOW THE WAY I GASPED I THOUGHT VALENTINA WAS JOKING OR LIKE SLANDERING THEM BUT NO. FR. HOLY SHIT. THE NEW AVENGERS. IM CRASHING OUT.

yelena crash out. well deserved. “no, its not your turn walker, because you know youre a piece of shit, and tour family knows it too!” EAT HIM UP also “EAT SHIT VALENTINA” icon ily yelena

walker almost pulling his gun on val and bucky cautioning him was so impactful like. not again walker.

BUCKY ON A MOTORCYCLE BTW!!!!!

john said “on your left” ☹️

bucky seemed really distraught btw, at the end credits, when sam was being portrayed as a “bad guy” (i will excuse everything sam wilson has ever done “wrong”. except he has never done anything wrong. ever. my boy) and yeah hehe maybe this is just some sambucky angst

we saw more of the red room too ☹️💔 like damn

ALSO IT LOOKS LIKE THE NEW AVENGERS ARE INHABITING THE STARK TOWER. HOLY SHIT

”you said you wanted to be goalie so that you could be the person everyone could rely on if they messed up” yelena

”i just look at my phone, thinking about everything that makes me a bad person, go to work, drink alcohol, come home and then sit on my phone and think more about how im a bad person.” yelena being relatable fr

also bob not remembering anything thay happened in the dreamscape place?? i hope he remembered. i think he did

”we're going to stick together from now on” yelena and bob <3

ALSO LMAO WHEN HE WAS DANCING IN A CHICKEN COSTUME HITTING PEOPLE WITH THE SIGN 😭😭 “i was on meth” BOB NO

red guardian being silly he really does try to be a good father snd like a supportive person

bucky and alexi going to beat valentinas ass was so funny but they got played fr 😔🙏

sighhh i think these are all my notes for now. i fucking love this movie!!!!!!!!!! so much!!!!!!!! argh!!!!!!!!!!!

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 25

Isat/Two Hats spoilers below! CW: Light pining I guess? I'm sorry it's not heavier pining 😔

(You sit awkwardly in the common area with Nille and Vale, having asked for some privacy today to have a conversation alone with them. The other's all left to take care of some errands or personal activities they'd like to get done, Bonnie sticking around in the kitchen to prepare snacks for the next leg of our journey.)

"So... you already know about the loops and all, huh?" (You finally break the awkward silence with your mostly recovered voice, glancing over at Nille. She responds with a comforting yet bittersweet smile.)

"Yeah... Vale told me about their time in them, and in turn yours." (She explains, reaching out to place her hand on their fidgeting ones. Their tension seeming to fade away just a little.)

"So you know we've uhh... kinda already met then?"

"What?... What do the loops have to do with us meeting?"

"I may have forgotten to mention that part, Stardust." (Vale finally chimes in with a nervous chuckle.)

"Oh... Well... I'm kinda, still in the loops sorta?..."

"What's that mean exactly?" (She asks with a cautious tone, recognizing that it's a touchy subject. You let out a sigh, deciding to rip the bandage off.)

"... In 30 years, Odile dies of old age... I was there for it, and when it happened I... I got yanked all the way back here, the day after we beat the king..." (Her expression looks horrified for a moment, just staring in shock as she processes it all. You give her all the time she needs, looking away. You hate how that stare feels, but you can't blame anyone for doing it.)

(You perk up as you notice her moving out of the corner of your eye, before you know it her strong arms are tightly wrapped around you again. You slowly raise yours to place onto her back.)

"Sorry, I just... Wow... How are you holding up?" (She says as she releases the hug slowly, realizing she may have overstepped a bit.)

"N-No! It's fine!... Your hugs were always really nice." (You say with a little chuckle, it's so weird to tell a 'stranger' things like this.)

"It helps a lot having everyone for support... and having Vale back." (You admit giving a little smile before glancing over at them. They don't allow themself to meet your gaze...)

"Back? Wait, I'm lost now." (She asks, glancing between the both of us before Vale starts to explain.)

"After the loops, my job was done... I didn't need to exist anymore... So I simply ceased to be. I guess once the loops began again, I was plopped right back down... 30 years missed and it was merely a blink of an eye for me." (You all sit in an awkward silence yet again, unsure how to continue from there at first. Nille finally decides to break it.)

"Alright, well what's our next step then?"

"Uhh... Next step?"

"Well yeah, we gotta end your wish, right? So what next?"

"Oh... I hadn't really thought about that yet." (You blink, realizing this was so far from the top of your list you kinda just forgot all about it.)

"Maybe we could ask Jinn for help!" (She says, turning back to Vale, who immediately tenses up at the name.)

"Jinn?"

"Yeah! We met-"

"I think it may be best of we don't go spouting that information about freely!" (They interrupt, clearly unsure about the topic.)

"Oh come on, what's the harm in it? Besides don't you kinda wanna brag about it~?" (She asks with a grin and chuckle. They simply sigh and sit back in their seat, arms crossed, nodding begrudgingly for her to continue. She turns back to you, beaming excitedly.)

"We met the universe!"

"... Y-... You what?..."

"Yeah! It was just some traveler basically, but it knew things it couldn't possibly know otherwise! It was kinda spacey and weird, but what can you expect from a god really?" (You take a second to process all of this, chuckling a bit in disbelief finally.)

"I'm surprised Vale didn't try and take a swing at it."

"Oh trust me, the temptation was surely there... until it apologized for everything."

"It... It apologized?"

"Yes, we had a lovely chat actually. It's been just as affected by the island nonsense as any of us have been. That's why the wishes have gone so haywire."

"So it really was just... an accident?"

"More or less..."

"Heh... Well I guess that makes us even now!" (You joke playfully, the other two looking at you in confusion.)

"I met the Change God during the loops, remember?" (You ask, looking to Vale. They then let out an annoyed chuckle as it hits them.)

"Right, I think I tried my best to forget that little detail."

"Change, y'all have really had some wild lives, huh?" (Nille trails off, shaking her head some with her arms crossed. This was all really insane to say out loud now that you think about it. Everything's been so crazy that it almost feels normal at this point.)

(You continue chatting, filling each other in on what's happened. A few topics are avoided, mostly the future as to not mess with it too much, the topic of your nightmare feels oddly tense to Vale, and neither of you can dare bring up the topic of how you last looped...)

(Vale gives a yawn and leans back on the couch, rubbing at their good eye.)

"Didn't sleep well?" (You ask, though you're sure you know why.)

"No, not especially..." (They respond before Nille playfully nudges them.)

"Hey, you're doing great Vay. I'm glad you stuck around." (She remarks with a proud, bright smile. They look away but smile the tiniest bit in response. Before long they've wound up passing out, their head lazily drifting to rest on Nille's shoulder, which she allows happily.)

(You smile, happy to see them looking so relaxed for once... You can't help but pry a little, looking back to Nille and asking.)

"You really care about them, don't you?" (She perks up, realizing she'd been staring at them as well.)

"... Yeah, I really do. Poor thing's been through so much, and they're such a kind soul deep down. I just want them to see that too, y'know?" (She starts to explain, laying her head against theirs after a moment.)

"Heh... I commend your efforts so far, you've made a lot more progress than I ever could."

"Thanks. It helps I've had to beat myself up plenty about getting in my own head, learned the signs to spot I guess?" (She explains, giving a tired sigh herself.)

"It might be weird to hear but... Thank you. You helped me out a lot too... I don't think I'd be handling all this as well as I have been if not for all the times you've helped me..."

"As an expert on time loop shenanigans, I can confirm you're allowed to, yes~." (You both laugh at that, trying to keep it down as to not wake Vale.)

"Hah, man this time loop stuff is so crabbing wild. Am I allowed to accept thanks for something I haven't done yet?" (She asks with a chuckle.)

"Thanks again for taking care of Bon, I'm glad they were in such good hands."

"I can only take so much credit for all that, but I'm glad I could help with it~."

"SNACK TIIIIIIIME!" (Bonbon shouts from the kitchen, marching in with a big tray of various treats prepared, grinning proudly as they display it for you all.)

[idrawweirdstuffnominors]

I desperately need to smoke a joint with Jerry and get high and make out. This isn't technically a request it's more like a confession. Forgive me father for I have sinned 😔

(Lol luckily I'm not a reverend and if I was I'd be reverend putty

Jerry leans back against his bedframe, eyes low-lidded and heavy, watching you like you’re the only real thing in the room. His lips are parted, flushed from the weed or the way you’re looking at him—you’re not sure which.

“You ever wonder,” he murmurs, voice low and slow, “what alignment we’d be if we hooked up?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Chaotic horny?”

He laughs, soft and a little breathless, and then he’s pulling you into his lap, joint forgotten, hands sliding under your shirt like he’s reading your skin like a spellbook. The kiss is lazy at first—warm, stoned, exploring—but then it deepens. Jerry kisses like he’s been waiting for this, like he’s trying not to lose himself too fast but failing beautifully.

His hands are all over— slightly calloused fingertips skimming your sides, tracing every inch he can reach. His mouth moves to your jaw, then your neck, mouthing at your skin like he’s tasting a potion, high and hungry. The two of you collapse sideways onto his bed, tangled in blankets and each other, breathing heavy.

He grins against your neck. “This… this is totally gonna be in my next campaign. The rogue and the warlock, trapped in a smoky inn…”

And you laugh, dragging him into another kiss, already dizzy from the weed and him and the heat building between your hips.

---

Your bodies shift on the mattress, tangled in a blanket that smells faintly of sage and smoke. Jerry’s hand is under your shirt now, warm and tentative at first, fingers splayed like he’s afraid he’ll mess it up—but then he dares a little more, palm dragging up your ribs like he’s mapping out terrain.

“God,” he mumbles against your throat, voice rough. “If this is a dream, don’t wake me up. I’ll roll a Constitution check to stay asleep.”

You laugh—breathy, light—and then he kisses you again, harder this time, like he’s trying to get you to stop talking so he doesn’t ruin the moment. His tongue teases yours, slow and a little clumsy, but he makes up for it with this growing, raw heat that coils through your stomach. He groans softly when you grind against him, hips jerking like he wasn’t expecting the rush of pleasure. Like he’s overwhelmed. You could feel it by the way he pressed his already forming tent against you.

He pulls back just enough to look at you—his pupils blown wide, lips kiss-swollen. “You’re gonna kill me,” he whispers, eyes flicking down to your mouth. “Like, full-on death saving throw.”

You straddle his lap, feeling him hard beneath you, and his breath hitches. His hands settle on your thighs, then your hips, gripping tight like he needs the grounding. He doesn’t stop staring at you, like you’re this epic magical item he never thought he’d roll high enough to touch.

You drag your nails lightly down his chest, over his soft tee. “Then I guess you’d better not roll a one.”

He groans—actually groans—and surges up to kiss you again, deeper, hungrier. His hands slide under the hem of your shorts, fingers trembling just a little as he explores your skin. And when you moan into his mouth, quiet and needy, you feel him shudder underneath you.

“Shit,” he breathes, almost reverent. “This is… this is better than Critical Role.”

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

hii, I've been thinking a lot recently about bonten and y/n at the casino (like all of them together) and how would they interact with her and with the others. I got the idea after seeing a fanart of sanzu playing poker and I thought this could be greatttt

Tysm in advance and I hope you have a good day! <3

Thank you so much for requesting! This is my first writing about Bonten so I'm quite excited here!!

♡♡♡♡♡

Depends on the kind of relationship you have with Bonten. What are you to the organisation? But let's say that you're quite close to them and worked with them in underground too so they really don't have negative impression of you.

SANZU would play poker with you (if you're good at it) to pass time and talk about your miserable lives. Turned out he tried new drug on one of the traitor, which caused the memory loss. You were quite intrigued, to be honest. Drug that caused amnesia? Pretty useful.

Sanzu and you would bet on something else than money, hence why KOKO wasn't playing, since betting on money was basic already and being already rich, money didn't seem impressive at all anymore. So you two would bet on something more...Exciting (I'm letting you imagine) which would have RAN joining.

Either Ran or KAKUCHO would buy you drink. What's the point of going to casino if you can't even have a drink, to be honest.

There's no way any of Bonten members or you would win against Sanzu in poker game, hence why you decided to play Craps, which MOCHI happily agreed to. Turned out you and Mochi were pretty good at it, which definitely boosted you ego up.

Ran would be the most chatty with you, followed by Sanzu. Definitely not Mikey tho, I can't even imagine him going to Casino. He'd probably be in his apartment BUT let's say he was there, he'd just drink alcohol and listen, hardly uttering any words. He's not very good in casino games too soo...Maybe he'll be lucky in slots.

Kakucho and RINDOU are definitely good at Sic Bo. Rindou would also play Roulette. You may think that they're playing lot of games but, I mean, why not? Unlike other people, they haven't come to casino for money but for fun. They'd try many games! So should you. Mochi and Sanzu definitely would urge you to.

TAKEOMI is most likely good at Craps and Baccarat, tho he lost to Mochi and you in Craps. Too bad for him I guess. Meanwhile Koko would be insanely lucky in Roulette. It's crazy really. As if he was God's favourite.

Now to talk about conversation, they all would be quite chatty with you and each other. The conversation won't be serious, just some snarky and sarcastic comments here and there but otherwise--pretty humorous.

Okey okey, some flirty remarks from Ran maybe. If Sanzu took liking in you, then he would too.

Rindou would be pretty awkward with you at first but after playing some games with you such as Sic bo, Keno and Blackjack, he wouldn't have any problem chatting with you, rather he'd become quite bold.

While Kakucho would remain respectful and all of his focus would be on games, also pretty annoyed at Sanzu but wouldn't show it MUCH. Would just smile if he lost to you, he'd just take it easy.

Can't say same about Sanzu, who's not used to losing in casino games. He'd be frowning and sulking, asking for another round.

Ran and Rindou would, like, compliment you when you would win. Mochi would also be frowning and asking for another round. While Takeomi would use "I'm too old for these games. Back in my days..." at that time and would get Sanzu's snarky comments delivered on silver platter which would cause small argument between two. Koko would rarely be losing, actually. If he does tho, he'd just frown and play another round or another game.

If I had to name the people who'd be the MOST chatty with you l, that'd be Sanzu, Ran and Koko. Probably Mochi and Rindou too. Takeomi just slightly ig.

You'd have sm fun with Haitani Brothers, Sanzu, Koko and Mochi tbh!

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Please don't kill me if it's bad😔🙏🏼 I genuinely tried my best here.