#guys i think i took the perfect screenshot?

[bluespring864]

THE ANDY AURA

[moongreenlight]

“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.

He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.

I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.

- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.

Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’

Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.

That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.

- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.

But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.

- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.

Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.

- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.

Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.

- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.

Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]

MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.

His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.

- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.

It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.

“Didn’t think you’d call.”

“Didn’t think I would either.”

He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.

- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.

So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.

Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.

Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.

- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.

Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.

- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.

He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)

He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.

Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.

LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.

- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.

GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.

[joosthead]

touch tank || j.k. f!reader

WARNING #1: explicit real person fiction ahead, dni if below 18. dni if anti-rpf

WARNING #2: explicit rpf/real person fiction content ahead. read at your own risk. dni if anti rpf, dni or read ahead if you simply don’t like rpf lol

₊˚⊹⋆ prompt(s): 16S) the classic “oh, let me help you put some sunscreen on” but then the little massage turns into something more

part 2 of just too soft for all of it — this is a standalone fic but both of these are set in the same universe if you want some more : )

₊˚⊹⋆ reader: f!reader, gets referred to as joost’s girlfriend. notfamous!reader. if you are a person who does not tan/burns—pretend that you can tan easily for this fic😭 exploration into joost and normal!reader’s dynamic. little bit opposite aesthetic reader

₊˚⊹⋆ word count: 7.7k

₊˚⊹⋆ cw: smut (oily massage, f!receiving oral+eating from back, unprotected piv, outdoors [but still private] sex, creampie), perfect world w perfect temperatures and pools, quite sappy lol didn’t know i could top jtsfaoi but here we are, google translate dutch. note: ice lolly/popsicle in mind. yes this is important. idk if they have these in nl but they do now < 3

WARNING #3: rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it. do not repost this on any other platform, screenshots or text alike. do not click ahead if you don’t want to read rpf. do not interact if you are below 18. how to block tags/words on tumblr.

₊˚⊹⋆ track(s) of the fic: “touch tank” by quinnie, “love is strange” by mickey & sylvia, “pink in the night” by mitski

₊˚⊹⋆ junote: i really wanted to combine this with prompt 14 but i couldn't make it work : ( i do have requests for that that i’ll fulfill so stay tuned teehee !! sorry this took so long, i am a perfectionist and absolutely adore this prompt so—here you guys go !! enjoy : 3

₊˚⊹⋆translation: "Kun je me hier voelen, diep in je?" - "Can you feel me here, deep in you?"

18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni, anti rpf dni. 4th and final warning!

Because your life is so perfect, the day after your meltdown and subsequent putting back together (courtesy of Joost), your area gets hit with the worst heatwave of the summer. 

You guess that this is some cruel tactic of the universe to make its stars align for you in any way it can. The unbearable beams of sunlight beaming down upon you the moment you exit Joost and your shared home into the backyard. “Are you sure we should have a day outside?” you call back behind you, putting on your sunglasses. “Shouldn’t we just chill inside and watch something?” 

Joost comes up behind you, arm snaking around your waist, lips planted on your cheek in a second. “Some sunlight will be very good for you, you’re always holed up in the office or library,” he mumbles into your shoulder, covered by the baby-blue cotton fabric of one of his button ups. “You can bear it.”

You shake your head, but keep walking forward down the steps anyways, sandals slapping against the small wood deck. “I think the heat might kill me.” 

“It won’t—I won't let it!” Joost exclaims proudly, letting you go and going ahead of you. Even without seeing his face, you know how big of a smile he’s got on his lips. 

The pool sloshes on its own, the aqua blue water spilling over the sides and darkening the gray pavement next to it. On one of your loungers, Joost sets down the tote bag he prepared of towels, sunscreen, the change of clothes you’ll wear when you go back inside. You woke up to it this morning, along with a butcher paper wrapped breakfast sandwich and a glass of water. A text accompanied it—he would be out back, taking the cover off the pool and setting everything up. 

Usually, you're the one setting everything up, preferring to have it your own specific way, but—you chose peace last night, going straight to bed after taking that bath together  After these few years together, Joost may not be as Type A as you, but he can certainly hold his own now around the household. 

Your backyard is a quaint sight: the fence lined with various flower bushes, clean cut grass all around. A tree stands in the corner, roots surrounded by a ring of decorative rocks and pink carnations—there isn’t much either of you have done to upkeep any of it, but somehow, they bloom year after year. Your loungers are baby blue, covered in the towels that Joost has set out, the tote bag spilling over on the left one. 

It's almost like you’ve taken an outing to the beach and you're not in the little old house you’ve lived in for the past few years. Any day with Joost is that extravagant, he makes it that way. Already, you can relax, your shoulders lowering as you sit down on the edge of your lounger and watch as Joost squats, running his fingers along the surface of the water in silence. 

Low on his hips, Joost’s swim trunks are black and needlessly designer, just the way he likes them. He’s shirtless, the expanse of his back to you—his own name is tattooed on his right shoulder in some sans-serif script he must’ve liked before he ever met you, and in this sunlight, you wish in secret to see your own next to it.  

“You’re staring, lieverd,” Joost remarks over his shoulder, giving the water one final splash as he stands up and you smile. 

“How could I not?”

“I’m just too beautiful, aren’t I?” He comes over to you, standing in front of you and shielding you from the sun. “You ready to get in the pool?” 

Behind your sunglasses, you squint up at him and nod. “Put on some music and I’ll go.”

Goofy as always, he salutes to you and marches away like some Supreme swim trunk clad soldier. As he sets up the speaker on the far side of the pool, you unbutton your shirt, get ready to slip off your flip flops, but in your pocket, your phone vibrates. 

You check it—it’s an email from your supervisor, asking you to look over a few files for her. Regardless of your big day out taking up your time…it’s a Saturday. And yet you still find yourself about to respond, about to start typing when Joost places his big hand over your phone screen, saying, “We can look at that later, yeah?” Your grip on the phone loosens; he’s right, you can look at that later. There’s still a part of you that wants to reply, scared of what the consequences will be if you don’t, but—“Today will be great.” Taking your face in his hands, he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Come, now.” 

You stand up and he slips off your button up for you, dropping it on the deck chair. You adjust the strings of your bikini; white and blue and flowery, patterned like a delicate porcelain vase, so pretty on you and Joost tells you such.

Turning to him, you hold your hands out to the side, showing yourself off. Joost’s hand comes up to your collarbone to fidget with the matching necklaces you both have that you wear now—pearl pendants in dainty silver cages attached to short chains and these green and tarnished (“well-loved,” Joost calls them) old halves of a “BEST FRIENDS FOREVER” heart-shaped necklace from a Claire’s you both visited on a trip to America. He wears them both today, too, chains intertwined and tangled as always. 

“Do you realize how pretty you are? Zo mooi mijn liefste,” Joost says, taking your hand and twirling you around for a better look—he wolf whistles, and it makes you laugh, cheeks warming with his eyes on you. 

“With how much you tell me, I think I’m starting to realize it.” 

“Very glad,” he says, pulling you in for a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll tell you more then.” 

Grinning, you pull away and make for the pool steps, but not before Joost taps you on the ass; you act scandalized, dropping your mouth open, narrowing your eyes at him, but it’s lighthearted, and just makes you want to finish what you started last night. “Smokeshow!” he whisper yells through his cupped hands around his mouth as you walk forward and to the side of the pool—it’s still morning, and your neighbours are weird about noise. This is his version of being considerate of that. Too bad for them that you moved Joost Klein into your once quiet home. 

Dipping a toe into the water, you immediately suck in a breath through your teeth at how cold it is. Even with the tarp and the sun shining down upon it for hours, the water still nips at your skin, something in your brain perceiving it to be freezing and impossible to step into. “Ew,” you mutter, and Joost snickers from behind you. 

“Baby can’t handle it?” he teases. 

“Not true,” you mumble, going down the second step, ankle deep, and immediately scrambling out of the water. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck?” 

“You’re surprised that water is supposed to be cool?” 

“It’s not supposed to be that cool.” 

“Come here.” You turn around, walk right up to him. Even without shoes, you still have to look up at Joost, and he smiles right down at you—you know that’s going to happen. “C’mon. Jump, schatje,” he says, tapping the backs of your thighs, so you do—he can carry you with ease, all the times he’s brought you upstairs this way, all the drunken piggybacks he’s given you. You wrap your arms around his neck, wrap your legs around him tightly, while he has his hands under your ass. “Good, baby.” 

He takes the opportunity to press a kiss to your neck, then starts forward down the pool steps, slowly so you can adjust. “Agh!” you yelp softly as he moves further into the pool, the cold water coming up around your body, engulfing you. The temperature is a shock to your system, though the way it cools your hot skin is so, so welcome. It isn’t as cold like this. 

“Is it okay?” 

“I’m okay,” you say, though you hug him closer to get any sort of warmth on you. 

“Are you sure?” he laughs, and you nod, still clinging onto him like a little bear. “You’re so cute. I think I deserve a kiss for that.” 

“One for carrying me,” you say, kissing him on his soft lips. “Another for setting all of this up.” You kiss him again, and Joost deepens it, somehow squeezing your body even tighter to his, tongue teasing at your mouth as he squeezes your ass, as you rest your hands on his chest.  “Have we ever done it in a pool?” you ask once you pull away. 

“Never.” Joost gives you one last peck, one last kiss on the jaw as he smiles at you. “Do you think today is the day?”

“Maybe. We’ll see.” 

—

After around an hour of wading around—you’ve both decided that today is not the day to do it in a pool. It’s too hot, even with the cold water you’re situated in. Not even your house or the tree in the corner of the yard provides good shade for the water as the day gets later, the sun beating down on your shoulders; it would turn into a burn if you were that unlucky, but you, however, are not. 

In the morning when you first stepped out, the pool was still shaded and you and Joost could do whatever you wanted: breath holding contests, Joost trying (and failing) to do a handstand underwater, racing each other across and back several times like this was some backyard Olympics. After a bit, you floated on your backs together, laughing about what the water feels like in your ears, laughing about how terrible he is at floating. Finally, you felt all of the worries from the past month melt away and into the water as you gazed up at the blue sky above you. 

You heard it before it came—Joost swiping the surface of the water, making a large splash that drenched your face as you floated. You exclaimed, “You dick!” and freed yourself from your float to splash him back in the face hard, then he feigned the hurt and sorrow that fills one’s heart after chlorine fills their waterlines, rubbing at his eyes—you weren’t not going to come over and dote on him, but then he splashed you back as you looked over his red eyes, and it made you splash him back even more. 

Noise be damned, you were both laughing and shrieking and splashing for around an hour—in the midst of your splash war, you noticed how pink Joost’s shoulders were, the beginnings of a nasty sunburn afoot with the afternoon sun shining down on both of you. You shooed him out of the pool and into the refuge of the umbrella covering your lounge chairs, and started to rummage in the bag before he sprung up from his seat. 

“Wait, wait, wait! Before I forget—” Joost exclaims, running back up the stairs and into your house. A minute or two passes, and he comes back with his hands behind his back, closing the sliding door shut with his foot. In front of him, he holds out a twin popsicle—two sticks encapsulated by sweet red syrup and already melting in its package. “Ijslolly!” He presents it to you as he comes down the stairs, then bows to you deeply and dramatically, which makes you laugh. “Here you go, m’lady,” he says, then tips his imaginary fedora to you because. Because of course he would—anyone else, it would make you cringe, but it’s Joost. Perfectly goofy, perfectly sweet, perfectly Joost. 

You laugh as he opens the wrapper and splits the popsicle in two—one for him, one for you. “Thank you, kind sir,” you giggle, playing along. “Where’d you even get this?” you ask, taking your half and licking at the melting syrup already dripping onto your hand. 

“I went to the store while you were sleeping,” Joost says proudly, biting into the popsicle. “It’s strawberry, do you like?” 

Walking forward, you nod and get up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. “I love.” 

He beams at you, sits down, chomps at his popsicle while you eat yours; he puts his hat and sunglasses back on and you do the same, and you sit together as the music plays for you. 

A new Charli xcx song, Joost and Käärijä’s recent collaboration, an incredibly sexual recent Ski Aggu release that you make a note of texting him “???” about later. 

Before you know it, you’re left with a red-stained stick, a red-stained mouth, a satisfied sweet tooth. “Okay, Joosty. Sunscreen time.” He gives you an exaggerated grumble but sits down at the edge of the lounger nonetheless, and you stand between his legs, taking the sunscreen from behind him and uncapping it. “You need it more than I do.” 

“Shush,” he says, but lets you take out two fingers worth of sunscreen, lets you take off his sunglasses and spread the sunscreen on his cheeks, rubbing it in. You can’t resist him and his pretty face, dusted pink cheeks, ocean blue eyes looking up at you through long blonde eyelashes. 

You’re so distracted by his face that you don’t pay attention to where you’re going—“Oops,” you giggle. “I got sunscreen on your mustache.”

“Oops,” he repeats. “I don’t mind.”

Hands on the backs of your thighs, Joost pulls you close by them and presses a kiss to your stomach, then hugs you tight around your waist. Automatically, your hands come up to play with his hair, combing your fingers through the strands. “All of your sunscreen is going on my stomach, Joost.” 

“Don’t care. You think if I lay out in the sun for long enough, it’ll bleach my hair more?” 

You snicker, “The heat will singe you to pieces before it can even bleach your hair.”

Sighing, he presses another kiss to your stomach. “You’re lucky. You get to tan today.”

“I ran out of my oil in Cuba, Joosty, I can’t.” A couple’s vacation with Appie and Alanis in Havana, feels like so long ago even though it’s only been two months. Fruity cocktails on the beach (and in your hotel room, and at the bar, and in the club, and…), running down hallways, fussing over Joost’s sunburned cheeks, Joost ogling you sunbathing but unable to do anything out of respect for your friends right next to you. You should have picked up another tub, but you weren’t exactly expecting to be tanning back in Amsterdam anyways. 

“You can't, or you won't? Look in the bag,” Joost mumbles into your tummy. You lean over behind him and reach into the tote—most of the other things have already spilled out and onto the lounger behind him: your sunglasses, two droom groot caps, the wrapper of your popsicle, a cheap film camera, and…a brand new tub of coconut oil. Your favourite brand. He must’ve picked it up on his trip to the store this morning, and you laugh, “You're so sweet.” 

“Mm-mm,” Joost hums. “That’s you, lieverd. You should lie down, I’ll put the oil so you can tan your back.”

Cocking an eyebrow at him, you snort, “Feels like you have something up your sleeve, Klein.”

He grins a toothy smile up at you—“Maybe I do.”

Joost gets up and moves all of the things to the other lounger, allowing you to lie on it on your stomach. You wiggle around a little on it, settling into the soft cushion, your back already stretching with your position. 

“I will be a great masseuse, schatje, don’t you worry. “ Careful not to put too much weight on you, Joost straddles the backs of your thighs. 

“Should I be worried?”

“No.”

“I feel like I should be worried.”

“Don’t be.” From behind you, he gets up, and you turn around to see what he’s doing—he gets your/his button up from the other chair and slips it on. “No more burning today for me.” 

You nod as he settles back on you, and you hear the sound of your little coconut oil tub being opened, the safety seal being ripped off, the clicking of his tongue at it ripping off unevenly. The air is a comfortable blanket of warmth upon you now, your worries melting away with it as you wait for Joost. 

“Can you untie the string around my back?” you ask before you forget. 

A few beats of silence pass until Joost finally says—“What?” 

“Is there a problem?”

“Why untie?” 

Joost’s voice has deepened an octave—almost grave, the tone of his voice is, because all of the possibilities in his mind floating around. Just your bare back and its expanse in front of him.

“I don’t want a tan line,” you explain. “Untie it and I won’t get one.” 

“Okay,” he affirms, though sounding uneasy as he undoes the tight strings of your halter top, the strings around your torso. He swipes them out of his way, and you assume the pause in his movement is to dip his fingers in the coconut oil and warm it up for you. 

Your assumption is right. In a minute or so, Joost’s big hands smooth across your back, firm yet gentle—he knows exactly how to handle you. The oil provides a lovely glide for his palms against your skin, and it smells so great; the pressure he’s applying is perfect on you, and you let out a little mewl of pleasure. The knots in your back are melting away with every swipe of his hands across it and you have to ask—“Where’d you learn to give such a great massage, Joost?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets.” 

Even if you tried, you couldn’t deduce how he learned to do this; maybe you’re just super tired from the last month (very likely) or he was a masseuse in his past life, but you’re already less tense with his hands on you. He digs his thumbs into the small of your back and rubs circles into it as you sigh in contentment at how it feels.

“I like this song,” Joost mumbles as it changes to this one you found years ago, some song about baby blue shirts, how pretty he looks going down on you.

“Mhm,” you hum.

“Seems very appropriate for the situation, right?” Eyes closed, you smile with his fingertips hovering just above your skin, a pause now in his treatment for you. “Can I…you know…” with his finger, Joost writes a small J, one, two, three times, on your back and sliding with the oil waiting for your response. 

“Massage me for a little more, I’ll think about it.”

“Fine,” he breathes, then gets back to work. 

Joost smoothes his hands over your back muscles; first over the top, over your trapezius, then up to your shoulders. He pinches a little around the shoulders, gliding over the smooth skin there. Hands sticky with oil, the solid melts with the sun-warmed dip of your spine, the valley of your back before him. The dip is perfect to smell, perfect to kiss; perfect to put a light hand on in public and a harsher grip on in private. With every movement of his hands, it smells more like coconut, smells less like you, and Joost has to resist the urge to bend down and nose at it to get your scent back. Every movement is accompanied by a little—a little breath. A little happy sigh from you, and it makes him go insane with every press of his hands against you. 

You’re much more refined than he is, more able to keep it together; if Joost was in your position, he knows he’d be a mess under you, quick and fast and easy. You’re his favourite person—the wave of your hand could bring him to his knees. Taking care of you comes so easily to him, even if he’s so commonly doted upon by other people. This feeling—no wonder you like taking care of him as much as you do. 

Today is so happy, a day that’ll get him through weeks and shows to come without you, long days on the tour bus wishing you could be by his side. Joost got through yesterday, his flight, the ride home using the prospect of you, seeing you, to get by. Then he got home, and seeing you was all he could look forward to after being away for what felt like forever, and he finally did, and he was so overjoyed and then—then you were crying, and he felt so sad that all he could do was hold you. He wants badly to understand why. 

“Can I ask…can I ask why you cried yesterday, lieverd?” Joost adds in a soft voice, still running his hands firmly over your sore muscles, “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it right now, I understand. But I’d like to know sometime, so we can help you feel better.”

You’ve known since the moment you started crying that you’d have to talk about it sometime. Sharing everything with each other is the way your relationship is, how it always has been—you thought about it in the bath with him, his chest against your back, deep and tired voice reverberating with it. How to word it as he played the first track on the new album, so crazy experimental and unlike anything you’ve ever heard from him before. Thought about it in the pool, thinking about it now. 

“I just…I’m probably the most mundane part of your life. There’s this little voice in my head, maybe it’s what I think people are saying about me—‘You’re telling me Joost Klein couldn’t find someone more interesting?’” You think back to an offhand Tweet you saw come up on your timeline, 10 angry quote tweets already defending you, no likes, but it still sticks to the back of your mind like some aggravating super glue: “‘His girlfriend doesn’t even do music or anything special and she still can't show up for him.’ I don’t travel like you do, I’m not always making music or doing things. And still, I couldn’t be there for you. 

I watch you at your shows and you’re this…enigma, you’re amazing. I want to be as good as you, I wanna show you off like you show me off. But there’s always something in the way. My schedule, or university, or work.” It’s truly difficult now not to feel like you overshared, dumped something on him that maybe you weren’t prepared to dump on him—a cloud shadows the sun, just at the right moment, and the parts of your skin not already touched by the umbrella’s shade are cooled momentarily. “Or maybe I’m just not trying hard enough for you.”

“I’m not flashy,” you say softly, settling on your forearms. “My way of being flashy is the way I love you, and I don’t know if I’ll ever think it compares to how you do it. I feel bad, that’s all. Like I could be doing more for you in every way.” Whatever it is, whether or not you were prepared to say it—it’s out now. “‘Cause you deserve it, you always do.” Blindly, you reach behind you and hold your hand out for him to hold, and he does, squeezing it tightly. Your cheeks warm, and it’s certainly not because of the temperature outside anymore. “I’m sorry I killed the vibe.” 

From behind you, you hear a sniffle, and you raise your head and look back, alarmed. Joost wipes a tear away with his other hand, laughs a sniffly laugh as you laugh, “Joooost. You’re gonna make me cry.”

“No, no, no vibe killing in this house.” You crane your head back again, pursing your lips, and he leans forward so he can kiss you, then peppers kisses until your shoulder, mumbling, “I should be comforting you, lieverd.”

“It’s okay,” you say softly. “Don’t really need to be comforted, just need to get it through my head that it’s not like that. I’m just sad that you’re sad.” 

Joost rubs your back, though it seems like he needs that more than you do if you’re judging by his sniffles and wavery voice alone. “I never knew you felt that way.”

He wraps his arms around your torso, hugging you close and continues, “If it’s any consolation, which I hope it is—you could never be careless. You set out my favourite sleep clothes for when I got back, favourite snacks, plushies on the bed, a place in the dresser for new stuff.” You have to admit—you were pretty proud of that last idea when you came up with it. “You’re thoughtful, and you’re kind, and I’m so lucky to have you. I love you, I love you. I love you.” 

With every “I love you” is a kiss upon your skin that you can’t see, but feel wholeheartedly anyways. “My muse, my saviour,” he says, and you have to laugh a little. “I mean it, you know I mean it.” And you do, you know it—how could you not when it comes from Joost? “You’re the most extraordinary part of my life, schat. Every show, your presence is there with me, even if you feel you aren’t.” 

“Not true,” you say, voice teasing. “That would be impossible, wouldn’t it?” 

You can feel the roll in his eyes from here, even though you can’t see it. “Yeah, yeah. But you know what I mean, right? Best friends forever, that’s what our necklaces say. Always there for each other. You’re always there with me.”

He kisses your shoulder. The oil is strange on his lips, but he doesn’t mind—it’s you. “Nothing compares to you, everything we have together…I hope you know how I feel now.” Pausing, Joost rests his forehead on the back of your head, breathes you in. “I’m obsessed with you, I think,” he whispers into the nape of your neck, then kisses it, and you laugh with the tickle of his lips, his facial hair against your sunwarmed skin. 

“You are? I didn’t know,” you tease, perking your ass up against Joost on top of you because—somewhere in your conversation, he’s gotten hard, and it’s poking against your thigh now, making you bite your lip. Stroking each other’s egos has gotten you both excited, it seems.  “What’s up with that, hm?” 

“You should know. I’m telling you right now, I’m obsessed with you. And this?” Joost grinds his crotch against you just lightly, kissing the side of your neck as he lowers his voice, “This, I like talking about you too much. You can’t blame me for it, you’re gorgeous.” 

“I don’t think I know how obsessed with me you are yet. Tell me more?” 

“Do I have to tell you, schat?” he says, gentle and low, fingering the delicate ties on your sides and the sensitive skin of your hips under them. His fingers drag down the column of your spine, tease at the edge of your bikini. “I don’t think I have to tell you, right? That I love you, need you?” 

“You don’t? Have to tell me?” 

“I’ll show you.” 

You imagine what he looks like behind you—burnt shoulders, rosy cheeks, dark sunglasses, chlorine dried blonde hair all messy and the tips dripping with water still upon the billowy cotton of his button up. Those blue eyes, blown out at the sight of you underneath him, wandering every lovely curve of your body. Slowly, he unravels the ties that hold both sides of your bottoms together, the nylon springing back against your skin, and you fight the urge to smile in anticipation of Joost all over you soon. 

“You don’t want any tan lines down here?” he asks, fingers already underneath the damp fabric of your swimsuit bottoms. You shake your head no. “Ok, then no tan lines.” 

Joost slips the fabric off of your skin; the dampness makes it cling to you still, though it’s easy enough to take off completely. You hike your leg up for easier access, turn your head so you can get a good look at him. In a sort of headband, his sunglasses are perched atop his head; the button up wrinkled and a bit stained with oil; rightfully, his eyes are half-lidded with want, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his trunks.

“What do you want to do?” Teasing him, you run a finger down his bulge and he smiles at you. Truly, you haven’t a single idea about what Joost wants to do with you next, and it looks like he doesn’t either—until his eyes light up, and you figure that tugging gently at his trunks for him can help expedite the process.

“Can I try something?” 

“Go right ahead.” 

You lie in wait as Joost lowers his shorts, erection springing out and his hand coming to wrap around it and give it a few pumps—you reach behind, running a finger down the slit, and he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth as he strokes himself, then settles his cock on the soft cleft of your ass and glides it against, between it. 

You laugh, “You’re such a dog, Joost,” but as he ruts gently against you—the little moans he’s doing in your ear, already rambling about how good you feel and he’s not even inside yet, one hand gripping your hip and keeping his cock in place and the other on the back of the lounger so he can keep his balance; this is your personal paradise. 

“Fuck,” Joost whispers, biting his lip. You love a show, and he’s ever the showman—but you’re outside, he’s outside, he’s very aware of your cranky old neighbours, and he loves you and your house. One day, you’ll share the lease together, so he tries and stays quiet for the sake of that dream, so you both won’t get kicked out for verbal indecency today. 

“I know how much you like it, Joost,” you purr from under him, voice muffled by your arms. “You can tell me.” 

From Joost’s point of view, you look like a line in his song, the notes in the margin crafting and tailoring the work to his perfect vision; you look like the fully realized final draft of something he’s been working on for months, trying to find the sound of for years. 

If he could write something about this moment, it would probably result in entire sagas, but for now—keeping you like this close to his chest is a gift only he has. 

“I can’t be eloquent like this,” he laughs, and you have to agree; whatever goes on in that head, he short circuits before he can say it in this state of pleasure. 

Joost pauses his small thrusts, catches his breath. “Go on,” you encourage, but he breathes a quiet, “No. If I go any more, I’ll cum early and that would be so lame, schat.” 

“Not lame. I would personally love to see it.” 

“Mm-mm. We are not doing that today,” he laughs, and the sound makes your heart warm. 

“Put it in,” you say softly, trying to convince him to keep going—it’s so cute how far gone he is already, how hard he’s trying for you. 

“No, no, no. Let me taste you first.”

You cannot argue with that. 

In an instant, you abandon your bikini top, abandon the bottoms too in a crumpled mess on the ground laying on your sandals and his flip flops. “Hands and knees, lieverd,” Joost says, and you follow his direction, settling so you’re on your elbows and your ass is hiked in the air. 

A few moments pass as Joost sits behind you, and you have to ask—“What are you waiting for?”

“Just enjoying the view,” he says, then gives a kiss to your ass cheek, making you giggle. “So impatient today, schat. Is it because I was gone for so long?” Joost moves your knees so they’re spread even wider, giving him more access to you. “How much did you miss me?” A kiss to the back of your thigh, right near your center, your stomach caving in with the deep breath you take in anticipation. 

“I missed you a lot,” you whisper, looking back at him focusing his dilated eyes on your pussy, and your cheeks grow hot at the sight. “Missed you more than you know.”

“Did you?” He licks a tentative stripe up your slit, up even higher over your hole—so sensitive, your knees could shake with only the tip of his tongue teasing you. “Show me, let me hear it, lieverd.” 

“Joost,” you scold, though your arching back reveals your true feelings about what he’s doing.

“Sorry, can’t resist.” He presses a kiss atop it before coming back to your pussy.

So exposed, so vulnerable, so open, Joost’s fingers parting your folds. He spreads them gently so you’re even more open to him and licks in between, drinking from you. The smacking of his lips against you—it’s filthy. You’re so cognizant of the sound; is it unmistakable from outside, Joost’s tongue flicking against your clit, his fingers rubbing circles on where he can’t reach? You hope the sounds of the city outside your flat cover the mewls that spill out of you as he lays his tongue flat against it and laps up your wetness. 

“I think we should get you more tan in the front, too, right, schatje?” Joost says, breathless, and you flip over, laying on your back for him. Before he can get back to business, you cup his chin, pinching it gently between your fingers. His lips are covered in your wetness, glistening with it in the sunlight. You pull him to you, bringing his lips to yours, the salty taste of yourself on your tastebuds, on your chin as well now. 

This all makes you realize—you weren’t wrong at all for missing him so terribly. 

When you pull away, Joost pauses, gazing at your face, brushing your hair out of your eyes. On top of you, lying partly on you, he cups your cheek, silver chain resting on your chest, the pearl pendants and the halves of one heart of the matching necklaces you own together right next to each other. 

“Zo mooi,” he says quietly as he lowers down, kissing your chest right next to your pendants, kissing down between the valley of your breasts, maneuvering so he can graze your nipple with his teeth, flatten his tongue over it. His hand comes up to cup your other breast as he sucks at the bud, then sucks at the skin next to it; that will leave a mark tomorrow, a sweet reminder of your time together. 

Finally, he’s satisfied with his work on you and starts down your body, kissing your stomach, your hips. Before you can even process it, he folds you in half, hands on the backs of your knees; licks one long stripe through your folds, then attaches his lips around your clit, sucking it, forcing a loud and choked moan out of your mouth as he alternates between licking hard at your bud with the tip of his tongue and sucking.

Joost is a fiend for it, devilish look in his eyes, smile on his mouth even when it’s pressed up so close against you—his fingers tease at your dripping wet hole, then his middle fingers are inside you, and then he’s there to the knuckle and petting at your g-spot incessantly. 

Joost knows you inside and out; can already tell that your pretty hands resting on the back of his head and holding him there will result in your fingers tangled in his hair and tugging lightly; knows that a few more seconds of his curling fingers and his tongue on you will make you try and push against his hand still holding you open with your thigh, you’ll fail to do so, and be happier for it. 

You’re too lost in your pleasure to look at him like he wants you to. No matter—you’re a beautiful sight coming undone for him, eyes closed, chest heaving with your breaths, a slight sheen to your skin. “Joost,” you sob quietly as he continues pumping his fingers in and out of you, continuing to lap at your pussy like he’s trying to quench an unquenchable thirst. 

“Mhm? Do you like it, schat?” Joost says against you, the vibrations of his deep voice making you twitch. You nod, and there it is—he pauses to smile when he realizes you're holding his head in its place, burying his face in your center. Who is he not to give you what you want? He drinks you in, and it makes you moan louder. “Keep quiet,” he mumbles. “We wouldn’t want the neighbours to hear, now would we?” 

You’ve come back to reality enough to nod, quiet down a little, but after a few more seconds of him sucking your clit, pistoning his fingers in and out of you, you cum, saying his name over and over again, then whispering it once you realize that yes—you’re still outside. Joost presses one last sloppy kiss against your overstimulated bud, and you nudge his face away with your fingertips, laughing breathlessly. 

Joost laughs too as he settles his cheek on the inside of your thigh, peppering soft kisses to it as he gazes at you; the look in his eyes is so tender, you almost want to look away, but you don’t. You’d take a picture if it wasn’t so glaringly obvious what you were doing before. You cup his other cheek, and he nuzzles further into your thigh, eyes closed. 

For a few moments, you stay like this, catching your breaths, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm together. After a little, Joost wipes his mouth and his cheeks with the back of his hand. “Owie,” Joost winces, reaching back to rub over the spot on his head where you pulled on his hair. “You really enjoyed that, schatje,” he smiles, climbing up over you. 

“I'm sorry,” you say softly, putting your hand over his as he lies down on you, head on your chest. “I shouldn’t have tugged so hard.” 

“It’s okay, it was worth it.” You pet his hair—Joost is so warm, the air is so hot around you, but you’ve never felt better. “I’m so hard it hurts, schat,” he mumbles, and you laugh as he shifts around on top of you, erection through his shorts poking your thigh. 

“Let’s fix that?” 

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

With quickness, Joost is up and off of you, straightened on his knees and parting yours, but you sit up. Hooking your fingers on the waistband of his trunks, you pull them down slightly, pulling him in to kiss you as you pull them lower, letting his cock spring out as you kiss sloppily, strawberry stained tongues meeting. You wrap your hand around his thick shaft, run your thumb over his weeping pink tip to spread around the precum, which makes him groan into your mouth, makes your teeth knock together. 

You stroke him a few times, Joost’s hand resting at the base of your neck. It’s like time slows down when you pull away from him and watch him and his furrowed blonde brows, the way his lips are dropped open, the pink blush of his skin creeping down his neck to his chest with all of this exertion. 

Joost opens his eyes, catching you gazing at him intently, and he brings his forehead to yours as you keep jerking him, and holds your face in his hands. “Catch me if I fall?” he asks, and you laugh. 

“So dramatic.”

“You don't even know, dude.” A few more kiss-filled seconds pass until Joost finally calls it—“Enough, baby, I need to be inside of you now, please.” 

Nodding, you lie back, opening your legs for him. He sits back, stroking himself. “No crying today, hm, schat?” Joost says as he takes his place between your legs. “No crying unless it’s out of pleasure, of course. Or if you want to cry out of sadness, that’s okay, too.” 

“I’ll take note of that, thanks,” you smile as Joost lines up with your entrance, lying over you. You slip your hands underneath his shirt, fingers running over Rayquaza, his skin piping hot on yours. The pool still sloshes, the sun is much higher, he's inching his cock inside of you and saying something in Dutch that sounds like whatever is equivalent to “fucking Christ,” his face screwed up in pleasure. 

“So warm,” Joost practically whimpers, and you both know that he certainly didn’t mean to say that in such a whiny tone. “So warm,” you laugh, making an exaggerated moan to tease him as he covers his face with his hands and laughs with you. 

“Shut uppp.” Another inch inside you, so deep. “I wish you could feel how it feels, it’d change your life.” Every vein and ridge on his cock, you can feel as you envelop him fully. “You changed mine,“ he says, and it makes your heart soar. “Over/under, 3 minutes, schat?” 

“Under. Over/under 30 seconds?” 

“Under. Maybe. Jesus fuck, you feel so good,” he laughs, breathless. “So tight, you’re amazing.” Joost goes silent as he fully bottoms out in you, but a few moments pass, and he states like he’s been thinking of it the entire time, “Lowkey, I wish we had one of those squeeze bottles,” he makes a disturbingly good squeeze bottle sound with his mouth, “Pfft-pfft. We could be oiled up super quick if we did. Maybe for next time I give you a massage.” 

You give him a puzzled, amused look—you know him like the back of your hand, but where his mind wanders sometimes, you aren’t sure. “I just don’t know,” you laugh. “Maybe we can workshop that idea.” Joost grinds himself against your clit, and you moan into his mouth as he comes down and kisses you. 

Joost fucks you like you both have all the time in the day to be here—as far as either of you are concerned, you do. Long, languid thrusts that you both watch as his cock disappears inside of you, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your clit. The wet, hollow slaps of his hips against your ass are filthy music to your ears; you pant into each other’s mouths, close enough to touch, but not wanting to for the sake of watching each other, eyes open. 

You snake your arms around his neck, bringing him closer as his thrusts become shallower, quicker, erratic, punching into your g-spot. Without warning, Joost straightens up, exiting you fully, then lifts your hips up to meet him where he is, his shaft rubbing against your clit. 

“Ik hou van je, lieverd."

“Ik hou van je, Joost, I love you so much.” 

Joost’s face lights up then melts once he hears you speak Dutch—it’s so cute, like a little surprise for him even though you try to speak it with him regularly. Since it’s easier for you to express yourself in English, he'd rather you just speak Dutch at work and school like you already do, but the excitement in his expression when you do speak it is priceless. 

He sinks inside you once more, a loud shared moan between you two; this angle allows him to be deeper inside you than before. You tighten around him, and he sighs in pleasure. Joost splays his fingers out on your belly. “Kun je me hier voelen, diep in je?” 

“Ja, je voelt je zo goed, schat,” you breathe. Your praises seem to incense him to thrust into you firmly, out, in, out, in, sloppy, though you can’t blame him. Still, the head of his cock hits your spot with every seat of himself in you. He smoothes his tattooed hand over your chest, your erratic heartbeat probably felt through to his palm; he moves up to put his thumb in your mouth, and eagerly, you suck as he fucks you. Anything to quiet yourself, anything to have more of him inside of you. “I’m close, Joost,” you say once he moves his hand to your shoulder for leverage. 

Nodding, he says, “Me too,” keeping the pace, smearing more of your wetness over your clit so his fingers slide over it better as he rubs it for you.  

A few more reckless thrusts, your arms flying up around his neck for support, lips catching each other’s, swallowing each other’s moans. That familiar tugging feeling in your stomach grows and grows until you can’t ignore it anymore, your core tightening, your pussy tightening around him as you gasp out his name over and over again with your climax, and he gasps out yours. He’s not finished yet, but his hips have lost the rhythm they once had, his control over his impending orgasm with how you’ve constricted around him. 

“Schat, hold on for me a little.” 

“I should be telling you that,” you say, though you understand—the overstimulation of his cock dragging against your insides is getting to be a lot. You hug him close, your lips right next to his ear, his panting breaths right in yours as he ruts into you. “Cum inside me, Joost,” you whisper, and with one last deep thrust inside of you, he cums with a groan, with a breathy moan of your name, clutching your body tightly in his hands as he shoots inside of you, cock pulsing; so warm, being filled up like this, no space between you two, his stuttering hips fucking back into you for a few final thrusts.

In each other’s arms you lie there, panting—sweaty skin on sweaty skin, music still playing from the speaker, him softening inside of you. Joost kisses you deeply, kisses your cheeks, your chin, and you smile. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted and more, schat,” he says into the side of your neck. “Don't forget that.” 

thank you so much for reading! likes, comments, reblogs always so so appreciated <3 : ) - juno

[littlebeluu]

Can u write some Marc guiu where the reader is insecure about her stretch marks and during s*x Marc noticed she was trying to cover them and he moved her hands started kissing the stretch marks telling her she’s perfect/ beautiful and he loves her.. x

I'm so happy for this becauuuse, I've been keeping a little secret for some time. I may or may not follow Marc's secret account on Twitter... where he happened to like this post that i will translate for you (back when likes were visible 😭). I took this screenshot in February.

I think we all agree that the majority of guys don't give a fuck about this.

q: Women with stretch marks are not attractive.

I hope that this information overcompensates for this poorly written smut. Let's get into it.

warnings: smut, oral (f and m), penetration, insecurities.

I watched as Marc pulled off his shirt, his bleached blonde hair sticking up in every direction. His broad shoulders and powerful back rippling under his tanned skin. He was a sight to behold.

“Come here,” he commanded.

I slowly got up from my position on the bed and made my way over to him, my heart beating nervously. I stopped a few feet away, fidgeting with the hem of my own shirt.

“Closer,” he said, a smile playing on Marc's lips.

I took another step closer to him. His hands reached out, sliding my shirt up over my body. Marc's fingers grazing over my skin sent shivers down my spine. As my shirt was pulled off over my head, I instinctively moved my arms to cover my stomach and legs, my stretch marks. But he quickly pulled my hands away, his smile growing wider.

“I love these,” he said, gently running his fingers over the lines on my skin.

I looked up at him in shock. No one had ever said that before.

“But they’re not very pretty,” I replied, my cheeks blushing.

Marc raised a brow, “What?”

“They’re not... I don’t know... I just feel like they make me look ugly,” I explained.

He chuckled and took my hands, leading me over to the bed. We both sat down, his hands never leaving mine.

“They’re not ugly at all amor, they’re beautiful. They mean you’ve experienced life, plus they look like fucking lightning, or water reflection. And to me... that’s sexy as fuck” he said.

I smiled at his words. My eyes followed Marc's hands as they ran up and down my body, stopping at the waistband of my yoga pants. His hands slid underneath the fabric, slowly pulling them off of me. As his hands passed over the curves of my hips and butt, my breath caught in my throat. I stood up before him, completely naked.

“You’re so beautiful,” Marc said, his voice full of longing.

My cheeks flushed even more and I tried to move to cover myself again, but he stopped me.

“I want to see you,” he said, voice firm. “I want to see all of you.”

His hands moved to the front of my body, sliding up over my breasts and down over my stomach.

My eyes closed as Marc's hands explored every inch of my body. When they reached my stretch marks again, I opened my eyes and watched as his lips followed. Kissing every single one of them. I couldn’t help but let out a whimper of pleasure. His hands continued to move over my body, sliding between my legs.

He slipped two fingers inside of me and I let out a moan of pleasure. Marc's fingers curled inside of me and his thumb circled around my clit. I could feel my orgasm building. My moans got louder and louder until I was crying out as I came.

When my orgasm subsided he stood up. I watched in awe as his shirt was pulled off, his muscles flexing beneath his tanned skin. Marc pulled down his pants and boxers, freeing his large cock. My eyes widened at the sight.

“Fuck,” I said, my mouth falling open.

He chuckled, “Like what you see?” he asked, a smirk on his face.

I nodded eagerly. His hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking it up and down. I watched in amazement as pre-cum dripped out of the tip.

Marc picked me up, carrying me over to the bed. I was placed on my back, his body hovering over mine. His mouth moved to my neck, sucking and biting the skin there. I let out a loud moan, feeling another orgasm building. Marc kissed down my body, stopping at my breasts. His tongue flicked over my nipples, making me squirm under him. I could feel his cock rubbing against my pussy, but he didn’t enter me yet. Instead he continued to tease me, moving his tongue down to my pussy. I felt his warm breath on my clit, followed by his tongue licking at my folds. I cried out as another orgasm ripped through my body.

When I came back down, I opened my eyes to see him hovering over me, a smile on his face.

“You taste so good,” Marc said, “But I think I’ve made you cum enough for now.”

I nodded in agreement, still trying to catch my breath. His cock was still rock hard against my leg. I knew Marc hadn’t cum yet, but I was ready for him to.

“Please,” I begged, “I want to feel you inside of me.”

He chuckled, “Not yet.”

Marc moved so that he was straddling my chest. His cock was inches from my mouth. I licked my lips, knowing exactly what he wanted.

Marc took hold of my head and brought my mouth to his cock. I took him in my mouth, sucking him hard. I could feel his cock swelling in my mouth. I knew he was close due to his whimpers. His hand tightened around the back of my head and his cock hit the back of my throat as he came.

I swallowed his load, moaning in pleasure at the taste of his cum. Marc's hand stayed in my hair, his cock still in my mouth. I licked and sucked at him, trying to get every last bit of cum out of him. When I was finished, he pulled out of my mouth and kissed me. I could taste his salty cum on our tongues.

I felt his cock starting to grow hard again as we kissed. He broke the kiss and looked down at me.

“Are you ready?” Marc asked.

I eagerly nodded, “Yes, please.”

He positioned himself between my legs, his cock rubbing against my pussy. I moaned at the sensation, desperate for him to be inside of me. His hands went under my ass, lifting me slightly as he thrust into me. I cried out at the feeling of Marc filling me up. His cock felt so good inside of me, it was like he was made to fit me. Marc began to thrust in and out of me, his pace fast and hard. His hands gripped my ass as he fucked me. I could feel another orgasm building. My legs wrapped around his waist, holding onto him as he fucked me. I moaned loudly, my hands gripping the sheets. Marc's pace was becoming faster and faster, harder and harder.

“Fuck,” he cried out, “I’m going to cum.”

I nodded eagerly, my moans getting louder and louder until I was crying out as I came. I could feel his cock swell inside of me and then he was coming, his cum filling me up. His hands stayed on my ass as he emptied his load into me. Marc's cock twitched as his cum dripped out of me and onto the sheets.

He slowly pulled out of me and laid down next to me. Marc's hand moved to my stomach, running his fingers over my stretch marks.

“Thank you,” I said, looking over at him.

Marc smiled and kissed me. “I told you, you’re beautiful.”

I smiled back at him, feeling loved and appreciated. My insecurities now washed away thanks to his words. I laid my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. His hand still ran over my skin. I felt loved and protected in his arms. I kissed his chest and closed my eyes, falling into a peaceful sleep. Marc's arms held me tight as he fell asleep too.

[cursedcatchild]

Ok, so I watched TOTTMNT and I am here to rant. Also, SPOILERS ahead!

So First of all, if I had to sum up my thoughts into a single sentence it would be: For the love of God, put those turtles back together, where they belong!!

I didn’t hate the show, but I didn’t come to like it either. And no, I did not have any prejudgment just because it was a new iteration. Honestly I was super hyped for this version, because the movie was a blast. Yea, I ended up being disappointed. But let me just elaborate on that:

First let’s take a look at our turtles from worst to best in my opinion.

Mikey:

Yepp, ladies and gentlemen so far I have never seen a single iteration where I didn’t come to like a Mikey. He’s always among my favs. But this version felt super shallow. He had just as much screen time in the series as his brothers and yet I still have no idea who this guy really is. His jokes were lame not really landing, I couldn’t really point out any particular goal or insecurity that anyone could relate to. Also, the guy is super oblivious. Like he took ten minutes to realize he walked into a robbery when he went for groceries. Heck he was having a casual conversation with the robbers. 

Leo: 

Another kinda shallow guy. Sure we seen a bit of insecurity, he literally quoted Rise Leo saying “ I’m nothing without them!” but it felt irreal. Because Rise Leo had a reason to think that, he wasn’t as much of a functional member of the team and he was always taken for jokes. But right from the beginning of TOTTMNT we see Tales Leo commanding his brothers, they listen to him  and even say it multiple times how planning is Leo’s thing. So at this point this Leo is just fucking blind. ( Also April slaps instant self confidence into the boy.) 

Raph:

Ok, this is also the first time, but I never really took a liking to a Raph before Tales Raph. Boy is filled with anger and sass, yet he’s not coming off as a total jerk like 2012 Raph. And of course he's not a super softie like Rise Raph ( I don’t hate Rise Raph for being a softie, he's my second favorite Raph) either. He had some fun pipe up and overall a personality I got. I think he’s the most perfect Raph I have ever seen. 

Donnie:

The best character of the iteration in my humble opinion. He was relatable, funny, honestly he was stealing Mikey’s job as the comic relief, but at the same time he’s the smart guy. The boy is ranting about not being the IT guy and then goes reprogramming an evil robot. Oh and he saved so many lifes, because he stopped a fucking train crash. He’s epic, I swear.

(My fave screenshot ever 🤣🤣)

Now story wise:

🔥What the fuck was this dumpster fire?! 🔥Who thought splitting up the turtles would be fine?! 😑Especially in a 12 episode season? Look, I don't mind solo or duo time. There were plenty of good ones, for example Rise. I adored the Mikey vs Leo cook off episode or the Gumbus one, but for the sake of my sanity Rise had twice as many episodes and the turtles were not split up for the majority of the story.

Like I'm not joking when I say they were together in 4 episodes intotal.😨😨

Now I heard rumors left and right that the fact that they need to make a show was thrown at the team at the last minute ( IDK how true is that) , but goodness gracious even if I was presented with the task with a “ Due tomorrow label” I could still write a better story. Especially with the goldmine what the writers decided to ignore.

Yes, something that would've made TOTTMNT be really unique….. School people! We were promised that we will explore the turtles from the teenage side. Ummm….Hate to break it to ya all but I think there is no better way to do that than putting them into school.

It would’ve been fire to see them trying to fit in, balancing all the cool hero stuff with school life, maybe wrecking the school, seeing how other teenangers adjust to the fact that now giant talking turtles are their classmates. It wouldn’t be some crazy mind blowing plot, but I swear it would've been amazing.

Now don’t misunderstand me. Despite the story feeling like being all over the place it wasn’t that super bad, but I’m pissed that it could've been better with ease.

Also another thing that bugged me, is the feeling of something missing. IDK if anyone else who watched it felt like this, but I legit felt like if we just grabbed the for example farm arc from 2012 TMNT and aired it as season 1. The fact that the turtles were split and they kept mentioning that they have always been fighting together made me feel like I should’ve seen them do that.

Anyways, If I did not take your will to watch it away, go and check it out. It's not horrible but not great either. I’m disappointed and I'm gonna need Rise back, thank you very much!

[ezwezz]

lost in your eyes

h.yj x f!reader

genre: fluff!! summary: you and yunjin find yourselves lost in the countryside, so you make the obvious decision to start a livestream. words: 1.1k

yunjin x yn!! my cuties omg hi where are you guys?? they look like a couple lol

the viewers instantly surged in numbers and countless comments came pouring in. most were excited greetings and some were doting on the pair on screen, a few begging for couple poses to screenshot.

"hey everyone!"

"hi guys! thank you for joining us."

you and yunjin stood side-by-side, waving at the camera, which yunjin held as you nestled your chin on her shoulder.

"just to clarify, we aren't lost...we just can't seem to find our members anywhere."

the camera flipped around to reveal the open countryside. fields upon fields of...nothingness.

help where tf are they??? plz r they stranded idk whether to laugh or phone emergency services

"as you can see...there is no sign of civilisation. this may possibly be our 'rural survival' era." you announced, the camera flipping back to you and yunjin.

"but don't worry guys, we're safe, we just need to retrace our steps."

"i could've sworn they came this way..." you glanced around one more time as if your members were hiding somewhere in the barren landscape.

"i know... but i'm starting to think they may have gone down the other path."

"it all looks the same, this feels like the backrooms."

"i know right, we're too city girl for this." you nodded in agreement before hooking an arm beneath yunjin's and starting your trek back down the path.

the woman began replying to comments as you walked comfortably together.

"they're telling us to hold hands." she stated after a moment, a goofy smile on her face.

"guys…we're literally stuck in the middle of nowhere and that's how you're feeling?" you feigned offence but happily complied, gently taking yunjin's hand and intertwining your fingers, lifting it up to show the viewers, who were going wild in the comments.

you two were often affectionate with each other, seemingly having instant chemistry, which the fans quickly picked up on. it didn't take long for you and yunjin to become the most shipped pair in the group, but you didn't mind- you thought it was quite sweet actually, and you could definitely think of worse things to be circulating. not to mention the fact that you'd had a small crush on yunjin for a while now and clearly weren't subtle about it, judging by the copious amounts of dating rumours between you two, but you could usually play it off.

yunjin's opinions on the matter were kind of a mystery to you. she'd never explicitly addressed the shipping, but seemed to entertain the idea, often initiating affection or playfully flirting with you...for the fans, you dejectedly assumed.

you felt yunjin squeeze your hand and glanced up to see a soft smile adorning her features. you reciprocated the affection by squeezing back, the wordless action lighting a welcome warmth in your chest. the sun had begun to melt, plunging you into a golden hue that captured yunjin's eyes, causing them to gleam like sparkling pools of honey. the sight almost took your breath away and you gulped, wary of sinking too deep.

the way they look at each other, i can't absbjsbfh love love love pretty yunjin x yn is canon idc the way they're lost rn....IN EACH OTHER'S EYES

the last comment made you chuckle, and you saw yunjin's face light up on the screen when she read it as well.

"we probably look like an old couple right now. all we need is a dog." she stated with a laugh, causing you to smile shyly.

"or a cat."

"but cats don't like to go on country walks."

"neither do i. we're an old couple trying to be youthful and active while our grumpy cat chills at home, in the city." yunjin giggled loudly, squeezing your hand once again.

"yes that's perfect. let's make it happen." your eyes widened and you were met with her mischievous smirk.

damn you yunjin.

are the dating rumours even rumours at this point we're witnessing y/n's gay panic, live plz yunjin is such a flirt

"we should probably find our way back to civilisation first." you stated, hoping the inevitable blush in your cheeks wasn't too noticeable.

"that's true...maybe instead of going on live we should've called chaewon...?"

"wait why didn't we think of that first? your stupidness is rubbing off on me yunjin." you reached for the phone in your coat pocket, only to find many...many missed calls from your members. yunjin nervously chuckled beside you, also witnessing the horror.

"this is definitely because of your stupidness. why was your phone on 'do not disturb'?" she exclaimed.

"i was trying to experience nature properly!"

when the cottage-core liftestyle backfires because you're literally an idol

"okay everyone, you're about to witness y/n being torn to shreds by chaewon-unnie. prepare to be entertained."

you shot yunjin a dark glare before calling chaewon, the hollow ringing sending cold waves of fear through your body.

"y/n! where the hell are you?? why weren't you answering?! are you seriously on live right now!?"

"uh hi chae..." you glanced to yunjin for help but she simply shrugged angling the camera to show your panicked face instead. "we just got a bit sidetracked..."

"sidetracked??? you went missing and decided to do a livestream! i'm literally going to start developing grey hairs because of you two."

"i'm sorry chae, we're on our way back now...i think."

"you think?! please don't tell me you need a search team to go after you..."

"a search team?? wait... omg i think i see some cars."

yunjin swivelled her head in the same direction as you then gasped, physically jumping for joy.

"yunjin and y/n have navigated the perilous journey and return unscathed." she addressed the viewers as if she were a sports commentator.

you were literally walking for 5 minutes yay! power couple these two are perfect for each other poor chaewon LMAO

"oh thank god." chaewon sighed. "we're waiting by the car. remind me to get you guys those backpack leashes next time." and with that, she hung up.

you and yunjin took one look at each other before bursting into laughter.

"alright guys, sorry this was brief but hopefully you found it entertaining." you told the viewers.

"if you don't see us shitposting on twitter later, assume that foul play is involved by the hands of chaewon-unnie." yunjin added.

"mhm... okay, goodbye everyone! pray for us!" you and yunjin gave the camera a final enthusiastic wave before ending the live.

"that was fun." she stated before rejoining your hands. the action catching you off-guard since the live had ended, but you certainly weren't complaining.

"i reckon we should get lost together more often." you replied.

"in each other's eyes." yunjin wiggled her eyebrows, referring to the earlier comment causing you both to giggle.

"i have no objections."

"hm..." yunjin squeezed your hand, leaning slightly further into you. you squeezed back and relished in the closeness. "can we call our grumpy cat chaewon?" she mused after a moment.

"oh absolutely."

your eyes met once again, this time exchanging an unspoken feeling of adoration.

[thebramblewood]

I thought it might be fun to do a little behind the scenes for the last story post! You guys might be surprised how little actual editing was involved. I mainly just crop, add brightness and saturation, clean up any small bits of clipping or weirdness that bother me, and then add captions! Do you want to know what actually took me the longest?

This hair had some problem areas that showed up in live mode but not CAS. It's such a tiny thing, but it annoyed me, so I had to touch it up in nearly every screenshot. Luckily, the darkness of her hair means I didn't have to do a perfect job.

The effects were all done in-game. Lilith has the alluring visage vampire perk, which creates the red haze and mind control spiral. Unfortunately, Helena crossed her path too closely, and rather than set the shot up again I used the clone brush in Photoshop to edit out the effects around her head (vampires who can successfully do mind control on other vampires are exceedingly rare). By the way, I later figured out a quick and dirty method for dispelling unwanted visual effects on a Sim is to remove buffs in MCCC.

As I've mentioned, I had to shoot the attack scene twice. The first attempt was too dark, the location wasn't very visually interesting, I was in an area of San My where I had less camera control, and I used the Effects Player, which ended up being less eye-catching (hey, sometimes vanilla is the best option!). They would have worked to get the point across, but I think you can really see how I learned and improved upon my vision!

These comparison shots are all uncropped and unedited, by the way. Reshade/Relight truly does the heavy lifting. I've also gotten better at finding an angle I like and sticking with it, even if that's only because I don't want to adjust Relight all over again, lol! Speaking of angles, that last shot was done using the Dutch angle trick I learned in this tutorial by @surely-sims! First-person camera is actually super useful for storytelling. If you don't already know about this head-turning trick, it'll change your life. It comes in clutch for changing the eye line of a posed Sim since I'm not always great at getting that right in Blender.

Anyway, I don't know if anyone will find this super helpful or interesting, but I'm always open to questions about taking and editing screenshots, even though I feel like most of what I know has just been absorbed through osmosis and trial and error!

[kings-highway]

sorry for posting so much today but bc I dont think anyone else is gonna share it I NEED the Haikyuu Fandom to see this PERFECT image the new haikyuu game Fly High has put out into the world. (its their loading screen, i just took a screenshot.)

I could talk about it for hours. Hinata screaming and tumbling out. Tsukki fully unbothered and vibing upsidedown. Bird Kageyama already pissed off. Suga shrieks. They're apparently the size of volleyballs. BIRD KIYOKO. who shipped them. who put them in a box. Do you guys think that little guy face down and backwards behind tsukki is Ennoshita?

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 39 (New Romance!)

Weather was perfect the day of the Romance Festival, but Heather's stomach twisted with nerves. "He's basically Prince Charming," said her sister, Holly, as they arrived. "What are you afraid of?"

"The last time I felt butterflies like this, I couldn't have been more wrong about the man I fell for."

"Stop thinking about Malcolm before Conrad gets here or you'll have to drink two Sakura teas just to get out of your bad mood."

Heather shuddered. "I don't know why anyone would want to feel that flirty!"

"Maybe you'll want to feel that flirty if he's the right guy."

Kris was the first to spot Conrad across the plaza and waved him over. Heather introduced him to her friend, Dylan, and her husband Gavin (yes Richards, sorry no screenshots here. I was laser-focused on Heather and Conrad), who had left their daughter Pearl and newborn son Darrell at home in the Spice District with her mother. Dylan eyed his outfit. "Are you on duty tonight, Detective?"

"Crime doesn't always take a weekend." Conrad blushed. "I got called into work this morning and didn't have time to change before I said I'd be here, but I guess I should take off the badge."

"Don't worry about it," said Kris. "The vendors won't try to overcharge if they see us hanging out with a cop."

"Who wants Sakura tea?" asked Holly, as the group finished bowls of spicy ramen. With Heather's mouth on fire, the flirty pink tea actually sounded appealing. She followed the others to the tea fountain, where Conrad poured two cups and handed one to her. This delighted Holly. "You're a gentleman, Conrad!"

"Thank you," Heather said as she took a sip. Instantly, the flirty brew raced to her head. Her fingertips tingled as they slid over the plastic cup.

"Thanks for inviting me."

"I didn't. I mean, I wanted to, but I don't know if I would've asked if Holly hadn't said anything. I'm not very good at this."

Conrad smiled. "I haven't dated seriously since college. Girl broke my heart, and it's easier to focus on work."

"I know what you mean."

She pulled out the clay from the gallery and fiddled nervously. He smiled. "Did you ever play that video game where you had to dig for clay and jewels and av-"

"-and avoid the demons? Yes! I loved Maniac Miners!"

"When they announced they turned it into a TV show I thought it would be so cool!"

"But it was for babies! My sister Hazel was five then, and she didn't even like it!"

He smiled, taking the clay from her hands. His blue eyes gleamed in the pink light of the festival.

With her hands free of clay she took a breath and emptied her tea cup. The tangy beverage made her lips tingle, but it also made her feel brave. She pulled herself against Conrad and pressed her lips to his.

He didn't even have time to drop the clay.

They pulled apart and shared a quiet look. Both vulnerable, afraid to say out loud how the kiss really felt. But in that look, they knew it meant something. "You can kiss me like that again. Anytime," he said.

Though he spent time getting to know Holly, Kris, Dylan and Gavin, Conrad spent most of the festival at Heather’s side. It might have been the Sakura tea, but that first kiss wasn't their last. Heather had never had a better first date.

At the end of the night, Conrad didn't want to leave her side. "I have to get home to let Gord out, but if you wanted to come by and say hello, I'm sure he'd be thrilled to see you as always."

"She'd love to," said Holly with a grin.

Buoyed by the effects of the Sakura tea, Heather followed Conrad to his apartment building a few blocks away... ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[writeandsurvive]

The Outsider ~ Alden Parker

"Mom, I'm sure that doctor is a nice guy, but I'm not interested in meeting him."

"He's not just nice, he's perfect--"

"Then marry him!" At this point, you were getting really annoyed and almost angry. It wasn't the first time you were having this conversation - fight - with your mother. Ever since you were old enough to date seriously, she's been trying to fix you up with guys she judges to be suitable. Unfortunately - to her -, your taste in men doesn't match hers. You only introduced her to one of your boyfriends and she obviously disapproved of him. She did everything to make both of you break up, which happened eventually but for different reasons. And you knew she would never approve of your current boyfriend, an older, divorced federal agent.

She just gave you a death stare following your comment, before continuing her argument. "I showed him pictures of you, you're exactly his type of women, you can't--"

"Oh my god, do you realize how creepy this is? This is the 21st century, mom!"

"You will meet him and trust me, you'll fall--"

At this very moment, your front swung open as Alden let himself in. "Awesome, you didn't give me fake keys--" the word 'keys' got caught up in his throat as he noticed the woman standing in the middle of your living area. "Hi!" He said sheepishly, unsure of who the woman was - even though he had a pretty good idea.

"Who is that?" Your mother asked you.

There was no way you could lie about this, and you didn't really want to anyway. "Mom, this is Alden, my--boyfriend. Den, this is my mother, M/N."

Putting the keys down, he approached your mother with his hand extended. "Nice to meet you, ma'am." But she didn't shake his hand, just looked at you.

"This is a joke, right? Are you doing this to piss me off?" Alden retrieved, coming back by your side. You wrapped your arm around his waist, and leaned your head on his shoulder.

"No joke. He's my man, I love him and I'd appreciate it if you just respected that."

"How old is he?"

"Ma'am, I'm right here. You can talk to me." He spoke up. "Yes I am older than your daughter, and it can be disturbing for you, but I genuinely love her. All I want is her happiness, and I can assure you that--"

"Okay, this is sweet talk, but I don't really care. You cannot date a man who's obviously my age, and your dad's!"

"I can, and I am. And I'd like to enjoy the evening with him, so--"

"We will be talking about this with your father."

Once she was gone, you let yourself fall onto the couch with a sigh. "The next few weeks are going to be a nightmare."

"That bad?" Alden took off his jacket and turtleneck, leaving him in a white v-neck t-shirt. He sat down next to you, softly stroking your face and hair.

"The entire family will be aware of it and everyone of them will have something to say."

"I'm starting to understand why you don't talk much about your family." He softly kissed your temple, bringing you against his chest. "It may take time but maybe they--"

"Don't count on it." You lifted up your head to look at him in the eyes. "Do you think you can face the backlash?"

"I always face the consequences of my actions." He smirked and kissed you.

It started the next day. Your grandparents trying to call you multiple times, your father asking you to come over in the evening through text, your brother joking about the drama you created 'again'. Seemed like the extended family didn't know just yet, which relieved you a little.

You sent the screenshot of your father's text to Alden, asking him his opinion on whether you should go or not, and to your surprise, he said he'd go with you if you wanted. On some levels, you wanted him there, and you appreciated his support very much, but at the same time, you didn't want to witness it. You didn't want him to see that side of your family and most importantly, the side of you they bring out.

But as the day went by, you felt so anxious about meeting your parents that you accepted your boyfriend's offer.

As he was driving the both of you to their place, you tried to warn him as much as possible. The things they'd probably say, the threats, the mean stuff, your past. You also told him that you could be mean too, if they get you frustrated and angry. "Being your parents doesn't give them every right. You're allowed to fight back." He assured you, kissing your hand softly.

"Please, Alden, just don't let them get into your head. Okay?" He could see in your eyes that this was your biggest fear.

"The only person who should have a problem with my age is you and luckily, you don't. So, I don't really care about the others, even your parents."

"I love you so much."

"Love you more."

Inside the house, your parents were patiently waiting at the dining table. They refused any form of greetings, from you and Alden. You didn't bother to sit down, just stood at the end of the table with your man by your side. "He was not invited." Your father said.

"But he's concerned, isn't he?"

"More like, he's the problem." Your mother retorted.

You heard Alden whispered "wow" under his breath.

"No darling," your father told your mother. "Your daughter is the problem, she's always been. This is just her ultimate provocation, isn't it?" He rhetorically asked you.

"So, me falling in love with someone is a provocation?"

"You cannot fall in love with someone old enough to be your parent."

"Look sir--" Alden tried, but your father immediately raised his hand as a way to dismiss him.

"I'm not talking to you, don't talk to me."

This was what sent you off. "I don't know why I bothered. Let's go, babe."

"If you leave this house with this man, don't ever come back. And I'm taking you off my will, or so will your grandparents."

"I think I was 15, the first time I told all of you that I didn't give a shit about your money! Am I still on it so you can threaten me with it? Cause it never worked and it never will. I'm not mom, dad." From the corner of your eyes, you saw your mother fuming. It infuriated her every time you subtly brought out that she agreed to marry your father so she'd keep her money.

"I told you that if you made a comment like that again, you'd be out of this family for good."

Without saying another word, you grabbed Alden's hand and walked out.

~

Alden brought you a warm cup of tea, and settled under the blanket with you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders. "How are you feeling?" He asked.

"This was meant to happen someday. I've always been the outsider of this family."

"Maybe, but I feel bad I'm the reason--"

You put a finger on his lips to make him stop talking. "You're the reason for my happiness, Alden. You're the reason I smile every day. You're the reason that for the first time in my life, I'm not afraid of the future. Screw them. I just need you and your love."

He pressed his forehead against yours. "You've got all of me. I give you all."

[smoooothoperator]

hiii lauraaa!! im just gonna say first things first and once again, Congratulations on writing an amazing series!!🥳✨️🫶🏼💗

I've been dedicated in reading and catching up and heads up, i may spam you with imagine plots soo sorry not sorry hehe😅😭

diving head first: I'd love to know abt the proposal + wedding details like whether lando proposed or violet proposed or maybe both🤷‍♀️😉 (like one of the tiktoks where the couple proposed at the same time), whoever proposes, what was their THE MOMENT when they knew 'this is it' (context: like jake and amy from b99 if you have watched), etc and etc.

i may have ranted in more detail but just wanted to share my pov of the idea. I'm sooo excited to see how this takes place! (ps: no pressure on writing asap!! take your sweet time pleasee! its always worth the wait to read😭😭😭)

okie now! byeeeeee loveee youuuuu mwaaahhhhh take care and happy race weekend!!🫂😉🫶🏼✨️ xx

Sorry it took me too long! Right now I'm very very very focused on reading that I really forgot that I had to write this HAHAHAHA

But I hope you like this!

He always knew he wanted to marry her. At first it was a joke he used to tell himself or his friends, that he was going to marry Violet no matter what, that he would put his last name next to hers. But it was only that, a joke and he barely though about it as something more.

But the day he had her, the day she said she loved him, he immediately knew he had to make that come true, that he was going to love her until his last breath. Days with her were like a new adventure he was dying to explore.

Lando started the search of a ring for her during the honeymoon phase of their relationship. He was so naive, so on love. He found himself countless times looking at rings everytime he walked in front of the jewelries Monaco, making screenshots on his phone of the ones he liked, picturing Violet with that ring on her finger.

But then the crash happened. He had to focus on her, on her recovery and making sure she was comfortable. And during that time with her, he came to the realization that he has to love the present and enjoy every second with her, enjoy life with her. But it made him realize, too, that he wanted to be next to her forever, now for real.

A year turned in two, two in three, and their love never stopped growing. They filled their house with souvenir of every places they visited, and their dogs were like their kids, always going with them to Lando's races.

It was a day he went out around Monaco with Max when he stopped right in front of the jewelry he always looked at. Max looked at him and smirked, nudging him and walking inside of the store. That day, he held Violet close to his chest, and while she was sleeping peacefully, he was staring at the ring inside elf the box, smiling widely.

He planned it, he kept the ring for months, and even if sometimes he decided to not wait and propose right in tbe moment, he waited for the day.

They went back to that city of snow, the city their favorite writer got inspired to write their favorite books. He thought it was perfect, Max and Pietra were with them, as well as their dogs.

"You know she will suspect if she find us recording, right?" Pietra sighed, looking at him.

"She won't" Lando nodded. "I have it planned, don't worry guys"

Lando had it pictured in his mind, he has been thinking and dreaming about this day since he bought the ring. When he's going to kneel, what words he's going to speak.

But it wasn't as easy as he thought.

His first attempt ended up with a fail. He wanted to go for a walk with the dogs and making sure that Max and Pietra were some meters away, with their phones in their hands making sure to record everything. But it ended with them screaming in a panic attack because one of their dogs decided to go explore to the wood. Thankfully they found the dog, covered in snow and the day ended with them cuddling the black dog in front of a fire and making sure he didn't freeze.

His second attempt was planned while they slept. It had to be something simple, no surprises. He has to make sure that their dogs are near, that the ring is in the box.

But at morning, when everything he wanted to do was cuddle her, he found Violet already in the living room making lunch for the day that was planned on the ski resort. So maybe that was the perfect moment to ask her.

He made sure he had the box with the ring in the inside pocket of his snow coat, sometimes having the need of patting his chest to make sure that the box was still there.

"Babe, you okay?" Violet asked worried, watching how he was always rubbing his chest. "Did something happen?"

"Oh? No, no! Why do you think that?" he frowned confused.

"Well..." she smiled looking him. "You can't stop touching your chest. Are you nervous because we're going to the red zone?"

"What?! Me?! My second name is danger" he scoffed, talking with a high pitched voice.

"Sure" she laughed, kissing his cheek.

Lando swallowed thickly and turned his head slightly to look at Max and Pietra, somehow panicking and moving his hand side to side under his chin.

"Abort plan, abort plan" he mouthed, making his friends chuckle.

He never thought that proposing to hercould be that hard without making her suspect.

He normally has a lot of patience, he had to get high levels of patience to love with two puppies and train them. But this? This is ending his patience levels.

The four of them spent the day skiing while their dogs were at a dog daycare place. And once they finished and got back with their dogs, Lando was too quiet on the way back to the house. And when they were finally there, he went immediately outside, grabbing his phone and texting Max.

Lando: Okay, this is the last chance. I'll stay out for a while, if she goes outside to talk with me, follow her.

Max: I never imagined proposing would be this hard...

Lando: Try it, then we'll talk 😩

Lando stayed out of the house, looking at the ring inside of the box. It doesn't have a big stone, in all his hers dating her he discovered that she doesn't like big jewelry. And the ring is the perfect definition of what she would wear everyday.

Rhysand and Feyre, their dogs, walked out of the house and stayed with him, cuddling him and trying to keep him warm, or trying to give him a reason to go back to the house.

"Hey, what are you doing outside? It's getting cold" Violet smiled, leaning on the door frame.

"Oh-" he wasn't ready. "C-can we talk?"

"There's something wrong?" she asked worried, walking towards him. "Lando, are you okay?"

"Well, I'm nervous" he sighed.

Violet started to panic. Nervous? Why would he be nervous? Is he going to break up with her?

"W-what?" she mumbled, swallowing thickly.

"I just wanted to do it before, but everytime I tried to talk with you, something happened" he said.

"Oh..."

She could feel her vision getting blurry, not noticing the confusion in Lando's face.

"Baby, why are you crying?" Lando asked, holding her hands.

"You are going to break up with me, it's that?"

"What? No!" he laughed, pulling her close to him. "No! I'm actually going to do another thing"

She didn't feel him kneeling in front of her, grabbing the box inside of his coat. But when she finally understood what was happening, he didn't even need to say a word before she threw herself into his arms.

"You gave me a heart attack!" she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, baby" Lando chuckled, holding her.

"But... Yes" she whispered. "I will marry you, idiot"

[wonwoosthetic]

series masterlist

word count - 2.1k

pairing - minnie x mingyu (feat. wonwoo at the end)

summary - mingyu thought to have found the perfect chairs for their new apartment… much to minnie’s dismay

a/n - as I went through my mimiwon google poll, a lot of you guys asked for more domestic scenarios and since I also once asked if you'd be okay with short writings, I thought I could post this as well :) just a little something I came up with back when I saw one of their chairs in Mingyu's live haha, kinda random but I hope you like it! <3

Chairs 🌷 Minnie

"Nini!" The familiar loud voice bounced off the walls of their apartment. The female member was sunken into the couch, her laptop propped up on her lap. She had thrown on a slightly thicker sweatshirt due to the colder weather, with a short shirt underneath, knowing she'd probably take off the first layer later in the day.

Each one of the three had been busying themselves separately for the time until their manager would pick them up and bring them to the company's building for their scheduled practice.

"What?" She shouted back at her fellow '97 Liner, who had been in his room, but his quick footsteps suddenly echoed through the hall until they stopped in the living room, right by the couch. Dressed in simple grey sweats and a white shirt - almost a signature look of his.

Mingyu grinned at the girl. "Look at your phone." Said device was on the coffee table, face down to not distract her from the very serious shopping spree Minnie was currently indulging in.

Her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as she glanced to the side, up at the taller member. "You're standing right next to. Show me."

"No," he shook his head, "look at your phone."

Not wanting to start a pointless argument in the middle of the day, she leaned forward with a slight sigh to snatch her phone off the surface. Turning it around, the notification she had heard only a few seconds ago was beaming right in her eyes. With one quick click and the face-id feature, the group chat the three dormmates had created after moving in together opened. Mingyu's message, a picture, was right at the bottom. "The chair?" She thought out loud. The rapper had sent a screenshot from a website, showing a white woven chair. As all three of them were getting ready to move into the new place they had chosen to rent, the hunt for new furniture had begun. Some of their old stuff, they'd of course bring along, but as their current apartment was slightly smaller, they'd have a lot more space to fill in the future. Some of that space would be filled with a new and bigger dining table, that would ideally have chairs as well.

Mingyu nodded excitedly. "I just ordered them."

The girl's head snapped towards him, her lips slightly parted. "Huh?"

"Four of them. But I think six might be smarter. For more people, right?"

"You didn't order them." Her statement was possibly supposed to come out as a question, but it surely didn't sound like one. As she took a quick peek back at the picture an almost chuckle fell from her lips.

"I did," he repeated, nodding once again. With a few steps forward, the '97 Liner sat down next to her, grunting as he let himself fall onto the sofa.

"No, you didn't," each time, Minnie tried to convince herself of the fact that this man just admitted to buying four, almost six, of those garden stools, only for them to be put into their new dining space.

"I really did," Mingyu chuckled, not catching up with her distressed reaction. "Look," he held up his phone screen, "We have a similar dining table and it looks good," showing her a picture on the original website.

"But..." The female member stopped herself, "Why did you order them?"

"We said we'd go for a European style, so... you don't like them?" Finally, he had caught onto it.

Minnie could only shake her head, her eyebrows scrunched up apologetically as she locked eyes with him.

"What? Why not?" The rapper gasped.

She shrugged, "They don't look good."

"Yes, they do," he glanced back down at the screen, "If you sit on them, you'll feel like you're in Greece."

"Why would I want to feel like I'm sitting in Greece when I'm in my dining room? Maybe for the terrace, but definitely not for inside!" The girl started arguing.

"You said you liked the European style," Mingyu commented back, his voice getting slightly louder in annoyance.

"Yeah, European as in like... Scandinavian. Not beach style. This isn't cute for a dining room."

He shook his head, pushing himself back to stand up. "Look at them once they're here, and then maybe you'll like them. How would you know that now?"

Minnie was quick to shake her head, her laptop already back on the coffee table. "No, because I don't like this style in general. And my mom's an interior designer, I think I have a pretty good eye then."

He shrugged, "Maybe you don't."

The female member scoffed, thinking for a second if she should continue that exact conversation, but decided against it. "Why would you even order them without asking us first? I ask you guys about everything too!"

"You didn't when you ordered that knife set," Mingyu pointed out, on his way to the kitchen, but turned around when he noticed the serious stance the girl had taken.

"Are you serious?!" She huffed out, "What's bigger? The only four chairs at the dining table or three knives out of many more that we'll have?"

"But I'm gonna use the knives the most probably," he argued. A good point, but Minnie wasn't going to admit that in the heat of the moment.

"I'm gonna use them too!"

"Yeah, but me too! And you didn't ask me about them," he stated, now walking back to open the fridge door, and getting the bottle of water he was looking for. 

"Okay!" The female member shot up from her place on the sofa, palms up. "Go and ask Wonwoo what he thinks of the chairs."

The oldest of the three was on the better end of the situation as he had been sitting at his gaming set-up for the past two hours. The noise-cancelling headphones being the biggest blessing as they kept him guarded off every single word that came from the '97 Liners.

"He said he doesn't care about the furniture. And," he added sheepishly, "he actually likes the European style."

"Mingyu! This isn't European!" Minnie whined out loud, holding her face in her hands. A frustrated sigh tumbled from her lips. She took a deep breath, trying to collect herself and not get too riled up over some chairs he had ordered, but he was really testing her. 

"You know what?" With her phone in her hands, she started to make her way away from the couch and over to the small hallway that would eventually lead to the gamer's room. "I'll go and ask him since you clearly don't understand why this is-" 

"Wait-"

The girl's rant was quickly interrupted when the taller member got a hold of her arm, pulling her in, making her back hit his chest and keep her from walking further.

"Let me go!" She fought against his tight embrace. But with no luck. "Mingyu, I swear to God-"

He tightened his arms around her, "Just listen to me-"

"Let me go and I'll listen," Minnie argued, stopping her frantic movements to try and shake him off.

"No, look-"

"I'm not listening."

The rapper sighed, "You'll go running as soon as I let go of you."

"No, I won't," she scoffed, turning her head to look up at Mingyu, only to find him with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes." She spoke quietly, closing her eyes and nodding her head in etiquette.

As genuine as she sounded, the '97 Liner had known her for long enough to know how good of a romancer she had become, knowing just how to use her words and facial expressions for her benefit. 

He grinned, "But listen to me first-"

"Mingyu! NO!" The girl started giggling in his arms, her hands coming up to wrap around his wrists, trying to push them off, which laughing only made it harder than it already was. "Leave me alone."

"Promise you won't go running off to Wonwoo-hyung," he tried to argue with her, a smile still evidently on her face, as well as on hers now.

Minnie rolled her eyes with a chuckle, "Sure, whatever, I promise. Just let me go," whining the last part out loud, trying to free herself with one last wiggle of her shoulders.

"That doesn't sound very convincing," Mingyu laughed at her attempt, only tightening his grip and pulling her deeper into him, getting a groan from the female member in return. 

Her head snapped back, her hair tickling his chin for a split second. 

"I'll scream." She suddenly threatened, getting a chuckle and 'tsk' in return. "You don't believe me?"

"Minnie-"

"OPPA-!" Her shrill voice echoed through the open room and hallway, only to be cut off within a second by Mingyu's big hand covering her mouth.

"Are you crazy?!" He glanced down at her with wide eyes, genuinely surprised by the sudden outburst. "What are the people underneath us gonna think?"

"I told you, I'd do it." He could feel her grinning underneath his palm, making him roll his eyes. His hand left her face before turning her body around in his embrace, now chest to chest with the smiling girl peeking up at him

"You're really annoying sometimes," he commented, not able to hold back copying her expression with the way she was looking at him.

With a finger to his chest, she blinked up, "But only sometimes," her lips curling into a sheepish smile.

Minnie patted the big muscle underneath his top, "Cancel the order," fluttering her eyelashes extra much, "Please."

"Maybe."

Her act immediately fell, her arms dropping down to her sides while his was still around her shoulder.

"But-" she was once again cut off, only this time by the messenger sounds from both of their phones. He reached into his back pocket, giving the girl the possibility to wiggle out of his embrace, now standing in front of him with her arms crossed.

After one quick look at the screen, he spoke up again. "We have to go." Informing her that the manager was probably already waiting for them downstairs.

"Cancel the order first," the female member didn't back down, continuing her argument.

Mingyu sighed, "Later." Before turning around to get to the front door to put on his shoes and jacket, "Get Wonwoo-hyung."

"Mingyu, cancel it, I'm serious. They're ugly," she continued, but he glanced passed her and raised his voice to call out for the older member, who was already coming out of the door to his gaming room, fixing the sweater he was wearing.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here," he passed the girl, joining Mingyu in the hallway. Minnie looked at him almost offended. "You didn't hear me when I called out for you but when he does it you're up in a second?" Putting the fact that he was probably not wearing his headphones anymore these few seconds ago.

"When did you call for me?" Wonwoo wondered, crouching down to get his left foot into the sneaker.

The girl scoffed with a chuckle, walking up to him, "Wow... good to know you wouldn't hear if I was getting murdered."

Mingyu rolled his eyes with a sigh when the '96 Liner glanced at her in confusion and slight concern at the same time.

"Don't say stuff like that," reaching out to tap her chin. Minnie just shook her head and moved to her own pair of shoes in the corner.

The younger rapper was waiting for her, already in his outerwear, holding out his hand with her jacket in his grip. Without a word, she snatched it from him.

"You're being overdramatic," he commented, grazing a hand over her head of hair.

"Cancel the order, and I won't be," she shrugged off his statement, brushing past him to get to the door, but with his much longer legs, he had caught up with her, getting a hold of the handle first. He opened it and motioned for her to walk out first, chuckling even before his answer dropped from his tongue.

"Maybe later."

"Mingyu-" she turned back around, ready to smack him, only to be pushed further out the door by Wonwoo rolling his eyes in amusement behind her.

You better bet she was sulky about the situation during their practice session as well. And maybe the multiple times she then stepped on Mingyu's foot weren't all that accidental after all.

Taglist: @waosobii @chaebb @lunarxsun @hoe4wonwoo @kimhyejin3108 @soobzao @billboard-singer @cosmicwintr @zwiehe @alixnsuperstxr @angie-x3 @smooore @allthings-fandoms

[lizaluvsthis]

Okay other SMG34 shippers I see what you've been talking about...👀

Presenting the Axoøny and SmgØles THEORY!!!

I have ALL eyes yknow?

If none of the people understand this context-

I put up a screenshot of how similar these things are that they referenced from Smg3 and Smg4's interactions

The first one that I screenshotted is the episode/Movie called REVELATIONS its where Niles took over in Melony's control and his goal is to rebuild their world thinking those SMG's are some bunch of extras/wannabes

But when Niles is so close to that, SMG0 knew that the world would be in danger if he lets Niles continue. So SMG0 tried to keep telling Niles to stop.

From Niles` anger his poses, his actions, the temper were the same that referenced to SMG4 when he did to SMG3 from the Movie ITS GOTTA BE PERFECT.

SMG0 looking at Niles in shock?

Smg3 looking at SMG4 in shock.

Niles yelling and telling him that the world of theirs is gotta be better?

Smg4 yelling and telling him to leave him alone to make his perfect video. But the perfect video requires sacrifice.

And what similarities from the sacrifice?

Niles doing all that he could to make the world a better place for him and SMG0 his sacrifice had to be done by lending more power and almost took out the world and himself by doing so.

Smg4 doing all that he could from his power to make a perfect video, a perfect meme to show the world, the internet, on youtube that he's not a failure and he wanted to make everyone happy. The sacrifice? Himself too.

The similarities of "having you here is the best thing thats ever happened to me" ?

Smg0 telling Niles that he's already done enough and even tho in the end didnt end up quite as Niles expected, that almost destroying the whole world had happened, and SMG0 says he's still there with Niles in the end. They're already together. And the two left this corrupted soul and went somewhere to rest. Niles ended up changing and went with SMG0.

Smg3 telling Smg4 that he understood whatever he'd felt and that his friends are always by his side and not giving up on anything at all. Telling him that his friends- I mean- They- will always have lots of fun and laugh together. Even tho the three are almost sucked down from the black-ish mud. Smg4 breaks out of the keyboard's spell and saved them just in time, with also the tears. He didnt know smg3 had felt that way from him. SMG4 ended up refusing to let three of his friends die, even tho he needed to complete the perfect video. Smg3 helped him out of there and the two succeeded.

And for the Melony and Axol theory... "doodle"

After watching near the end of the WOTFI 2023 video

I saw what seems to be SMG3 doodling a precious memory, a moment where he and smg4 did in such a day. This spat out my coffee. I recogniced that similar spot.

Its where Melony drew herself and Axol being together even tho Axol passed on, she'll remember that memory.

So what if... smg3 or smg4... one of them... no no- i think thats too much- just- what if... one of them dies...?

We've had this theory here- since axol is possessed by corrupted smg0 and melony KILLS axol in order to make corrupt 0 to perish.

Then what if Smg3 or either Smg4 gets possessed or manipulated by the new antagonist "TV guy" from the end of wotfi 2023? And one of them actually kills... oh my god- this is too MUCH honestly... I actually doubt this is ever gonna happen- It wont happen heheh... right...?

[bluebirbo]

I want to preface before I start this post that I’ve never seen Hazbin Hotel! Scrolled through the fandom and critical tag once in a while but purely stayed away after episode one turned out not to be my cup of tea. However, I got recommended the soundtrack by a friend and figured I’d give it a go, I’m no stranger to enjoying music from musicals I haven’t seen.

Tell me why, as someone who’s only seen episode one, Charlie and Alastor have much better chemistry in “Hell’s Greatest Dad” than Vaggie and Charlie had in the entirety of the first episode (and I assume the rest of the series based off posts I’ve seen).

I started with “Hell’s Greatest Dad” when trying the soundtrack and that was the ONLY thought going through my head. I mean if you took out the forced daddy-daughter implications than Alastor’s part holds better weight as a romantic partner singing to Charlie.

As interesting of a premise Charlie and Vaggie’s relationship is I can’t help but think that these two, even if you had to change some stuff, are just much more interesting as love interests. The dynamic of a cheerful, goal driven girl with fighting abilities and a guy who flaunts his powers with a secret dark backstory has been done before and for good reason!

While there’s definitely character traits keeping this pairing back from being perfect, Charlie’s overplayed nativity being one, I just can’t get it off my mind how well they worked together in this ONE song.

I’m not trying to erase the representation Charlie and Vaggie give us, nor am I trying to start any shipping debates. Like I said I’ve only ever seen episode one and fully intend to keep it that way. This was just a thought on my mind I figured I’d share because gah, just look at the screenshots people!

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Explosions

EPISODE 6 OF ONLY FRIENDS WAS SO FUCKING GOOD! Seriously it was just fight after fight after fight, every relationship being shifted, undermined, or blown up in minutes and it was glorious. I think a good summary for this episode is “It’s always the quiet ones” 

If you want the TL;DR version of any of these, you can check out @lurkingshan’s much more cohesive, succinct description of each fight, and the winner. 

Sand v. Top 

Something that I truly and deeply appreciate about Only Friends is how much they are really committing to letting these boys act their motherfucking ages. We would think that Sand is a more responsible, independent person out of necessity, that he has his life together more, that he is more mature. After all, like we said last week, Boston came in to his home, smoked his weed, and fucked with his relationship and Sand took the high road (so we thought) of shutting his goddamn mouth and not airing Boston and Top’s dirty laundry. 

But damn if this boy ain’t twenty, petty, and fueled by rage at even the smallest sight of Top’s face. 

Sand goes to the Coffee House and orders a Pink Milk (now, pink milk/pink drink is a pretty old BL trope if I understand correctly, and so imo it is a testament to Sand’s character and his expectations of romance that he would order such a drink, and a statement on Jojo and Ninew’s part that the coffee house does not have milk and therefore cannot deliver the drink of BL romance everywhere.) Top appears, ordering his drinks, and we get a blessed side eye from Sand full of incredulity, barely contained disdain, and annoyance.

GOD I WANT THEM TO BE HALF-BROTHERS SO BAD! Anyway…

Top does give a rather amicable hello, and initiates a casual, emotionless conversation. But of course, Sand hates this motherfuckers’ guts for stealing his ex, and Sand knows exactly what and how Top thinks of him, so that protective snark we saw when Sand initially started engaging with Rich-Boy-Ray, returns. 

Top, on the other hand, thinks nothing of Sand, not that he hates him, not that he likes him, but fully that Sand is nothing. Sand is poor, Sand is struggling, Sand is nowhere close to competition for him. Top is precisely the kind of asshole that uses subtle jibes and jabs to chip away at people who understand what he is doing. Sand fucking hates this guy, so it is easy beyond measure to get Sand going. 

Especially because, we know that Sand knows about Top and Boston, and we know that Boston poked the bear the other night and fucked with Sand’s feelings about Ray. Top needles, and Sand inches closer to showing his hand ‘Mew seems nice. How unlucky of him to have you as his boyfriend’ 

And the perfect boyfriend mask that Top has been so successfully adorning drops “I can have anyone I want…I got mine now. I hope you get yours” 

(I am putting this screenshot in here because I find it really interesting from a visual storytelling/cinematography perspective that Sand is cast in Top’s shadow.)

And get his Sand will, because the first thing Sand does when he gets home is break the shit out of his phone so hard that Nick asks if he went to war. He “borrows” Nick’s phone to “call his Mom” promptly sending himself the audio file of Boston and Top having sex. (Pro Tip: If you are going to audio record two guys having sex, maybe don’t tell a goddamn soul you have it unless you are ready for that information to come to light.) 

Some questions I have here: why did Sand ask about if Nick was still seeing Boston? Why does Sand seem chill with Nick and Boston still hanging out together after Boston just went full douchebag all over his apartment. 

(My assumption/my theory here, which I am not really thinking has any basis in reality is that Sand is looking to see if Nick is still hanging out with Boston after Boston blew up the fantasy relationship he had with Ray. As if he was figuring out if it was worth it to throw Nick in to the mix when he is making the decision to ignite the stick of dynamite that is everyone’s relationships to one another.)

Then he meets with Ray at the bar. 

“Are you mad at me for that night?”

“Why would I be mad? Who you like is your business” Sand says, like a liar, and I am almost entirely certain that Ray knows this is a lie. Because he was with Sand the night Boston went off and he heard those crack’s in Sand’s voice. 

Something that I absolutely love about Ray as a character is that he is so completely unable to control his facial expressions. Whatever he is thinking or feeling is on his face the second that the emotion enters his body. You can see it in the fight scene with Boston in episode 5, how quickly Ray’s face shifts from crossfaded, relaxed, and smiley to focused, tense, and angry. So his reaction to Sand’s response is no surprise. Ray smirks, and looks away from Sand. 

“You called me here to play pool?”

“No, I wanted to talk to you…about Mew,” Sand is looking straight at Ray at this point, and I don’t know about y’all but it feels to me like Sand is assessing Ray’s reaction.  There is a MASSIVE pause from Ray at this point, a large bout of silence, and VERY slow, calculated motion as he brings himself to a (drunken) upright position. 

“What? Are you not okay that I like him?”

A deep inhale from Sand, and then a smile “I am okay. I even get why you like him. He is nice. People around can’t help falling for him.” Sand is priming his trap, weaponizing Ray’s feelings for Mew.

So here is the thing with Ray. Ray is both an open book and a man of direct action, part of this may just be his personality, but part of this is that Ray is constantly under the influence, and with altered mental status, it is going to both be harder to control your outward emotional expression and you are going to get escalated more quickly. Ray has an extremely low tolerance for bullshit, and in some capacities that is a negative thing (ex: 80% of the actions Ray does after his conversation with Sand in the pool hall), but it can sometimes be a positive thing, because it allows Ray to cut to the chase. To try to skirt around whatever mind games Sand is trying to play: “Just say what you mean”. 

Sand sends Ray the audio recording, “I didn’t know who to tell, so I told you” Sand says, turning his attention to the pool table.

This is a crucial move, because Sand is not making eye contact with Ray. Sand is toying with Ray, he is trying to seem disinterested in Ray, in their conversation, unaffected by the other night, casual in his relationship to Ray, casual in the massive invasion of privacy that he just handed to Ray, unphased by the ammunition he has just loaded in to the loose cannon. 

“I just don’t want a good guy like Mew to get fooled by Top. Mew is lucky though…

“To have you by his side”

Sand knows exactly what he is doing. He knows Ray likes Mew, and he knows Ray has a tendency to get riled up. Sand may not fully anticipate just how much he is setting Ray up to get hurt here, but he for fucking sure knows he is priming a weapon. If you ask me, Sand is placing the idea in Ray’s head to bring this information to Mew, to reveal the truth and break Mew and Top up so that Top loses the relationship that he just rubbed in Sand’s face, with minimal effort and suspicion that Sand was behind any of it. Which is why Sand looks up from the pool table as he says this line, because he’s studying Ray to see if Ray is picking up what Sand is putting down, and as we will see later, Sand has successfully planted the seed.

Ray is easy, Ray takes the bait, Ray immediately goes firing off in every direction he can. That boy waits, what? Probably one day before he runs straight to Boston to give him a piece of his mind. 

Ray v. Boston

There are too many phenomenal scenes in Episode 6 to pick a favorite, but I do think this is one of the best scenes that we’ve seen for Boston so far. By which I mean that we get a lot of information about Boston’s character from the way he navigates this conversation with Ray. We saw his proclivity for douchebaggery in Episode 5, and we’ve seen his propensity for fear when he is almost caught by Mew in the showers with Top. But we haven’t really seen these two aspects of Boston’s character interacting with each other, or at least not as strongly. 

Ray comes storming in to Boston’s home immediately riled up and cussing him out, calling him all sorts of names asking if he is going to do nasty shit to all of his friends, and of course, Boston at this point has no idea that the recording exists (and he is just a major asshole) so he is legitimately very confused about what Ray could possibly be talking about. 

“You hooked up with Top!” Ray shouts, and there is a look of genuine fear in Boston’s eyes. No one was around that he knew about or saw when he hooked up with Top that night, no one should have known that happened. Boston already has one recorded gay sex event hanging over his head as potential blackmail (thanks Gap), and now he is faced with the realization that there may be evidence of a second gay sex event.

Boston cares about his father’s reputation. Boston is not out to his father. Boston is probably far less discrete and careful than he should be, but I do think it is fair for him to assume that people aren’t going to record his sexual encounters with them without his consent. (I want to take a pause here just to say that I think I guessed right about some of the reasoning for Boston’s behavior especially in the earlier episodes has to do with his inability to be out.) This scene is where we get the longest continuous exposure to Boston’s fear. He is scared when Ray says he knows about him and Top, he is scared when he asks who told Ray, at this point you would think Ray would be the victor of this fight, but the second that Ray brings Mew in to the conversation?

Boston puts a mask on, and he smiles, because he has found a way to protect himself, and that is to use Ray’s weak spot (his crush on Mew) against him. To turn the tides in his favor, to manipulate Ray’s feelings, Ray’s attachment to Mew, Ray’s love of Mew in to staying quiet about his hook up with Top. 

“So? Top and I screwed even before they started dating. Is it so weird to screw again? I just wanted more. Then I let them love each other all they want. Everyone has a happy ending. Everyone is filled.” 

I am fascinated here by Boston’s comment “I let them love each other all they want”. As if he personally has control over Top and Mew’s feelings for each other, as if he didn’t violate Mew’s ability to trust Top whenever, if ever that information comes to light. (Secondarily, Boston chooses some truly masterful double entendres here “happy ending”, “everyone filled”). 

Ray continues on his shouting spree, asking Boston how he could do that to a friend, and we see the aloof and unbothered mask slip off once again, in favor of an actual plea to be listened to. “Hear me out, okay? I don’t hate Mew at all. I was just needy. The timing was just wrong” Now, while I don’t believe Boston about Mew and about the timing because we know he only started going after Top when Top started showing greater interest in Mew, and didn’t just nail and bail. But, I don’t think Boston is entirely lying to Ray here about being needy. One thing I do wish this show had more time for is establishing the past relationship between Boston and Ray before they get to this point. When Ray says later on in the episode that Boston tells him all about his sexual conquests, is that just something he says to Ray or is that something he tells the whole group when he is recounting his previous nights? This matters only in the sense of me feeling more secure in how much, if any, of what Boston is saying to Ray is true. 

“Timing, my ass. The point is your slutty ass just sleeps with anyone.” Ray says, and Boston looks down at the ground, draws in a breath, and then meets Ray with this cocky, teasing smirk and the line “Not just anyone. I picked him.” 

Ray wants to see Boston as a villain, so Boston will be one. Boston is generally a contradictory asshole, but in my opinion if he wasn’t faking some of this confidence and prodding at Ray, he would not have needed prep time, we would have seen that sincerity drop, the way we saw Top’s sincerity drop in his conversation with Sand. Instead, Boston has to prepare himself to act this way, though he is able to slip in to this part of himself with ease. Also, I have no deep insights in to this, because I am simply just obsessed with the little shoulder shrug Boston gives Ray. Spitting in his face would have been less disrespectful than the way Boston shrugs off Ray’s comment about him being a slut. (Once again I say Neo Trai is absolutely crushing this role).

Boston asks how Ray is involved (a great question, because it is literally none of Ray’s business) and then goes in for the kill with his acknowledgement of Ray’s crush, and the underlying dickishness Boston knows (or thinks he knows) is there. “You’re playing a good friend who is always so protective of Mew. Honestly, I think you are glad that it happened. You’ve always waited for your chance. This is in your favor. You’re waiting for them to break up and be his rebound when he is weak.” 

I don’t know that it really needs to be called out directly, but I am going to do it anyway. What Boston just said to Ray’s face is exactly what Sand was thinking, and alluding to when he gave Ray that recording. You cannot convince me otherwise. But Sand was subtle in how he put those thoughts in Ray’s head, so he is successful in getting Ray appropriately riled up. Boston too, is successful in riling up Ray by being direct with him, but Boston gets punched in the face and makes Ray even angrier at him than he was before. 

“If you tell him, then you’re as evil as me. Don’t act like you mean well when deep down you hope they will break up. It’s disgusting!” He stands up, and stalks right up to Ray’s face.

“You should even thank me big time for getting you out of the friendzone.” 

Regardless of the fact that Boston is not yet aware of the recording of him and Top, he is acutely aware that he needs to protect himself from this information getting out. So again, he hones in on Ray’s weakness. Boston compares Ray to himself, to the person that Ray is absolutely furious with. He plays to Ray’s own insecurities and to Ray’s need to be seen as a good person and viable partner for Mew. Ray loves his friends, Ray loves Mew, Ray does not want to hurt Mew, if Ray tells Mew about Top cheating on him Mew will be hurt, if Mew rebounds with Ray after he and Top break up that makes Boston right about Ray’s intentions, that makes Ray evil. That is the implication here. And, just in case trying to convince Ray that if he tells Mew about the cheating then he is just as evil as the person who literally got fucked by Top, Boston throws in a little bit extra.  Ray should be grateful. Ray should thank Boston. Boston’s shitty actions here, Boston’s betrayal of his friendship with Mew, have cleared the way for Ray to play the hero. Ray shouldn’t tell Mew any of this because he owes Boston. Ray came charging in to Boston’s own home, with a leg up in the conversation, and showed his hand, allowing Boston to exploit Ray’s feelings and gain the upper hand. In one expert fell swoop, Boston has upset Ray enough for him to storm off and is feeling pretty confident and secure in the knowledge that Ray will not say anything to Mew.

Ray v. Everyone

By the time Ray gets to Mew’s birthday party he has been ignored, insulted, manipulated, and belittled constantly by almost every single person that says they care about him. Cheum has laughed at his love life, Sand used Ray to further his own agenda, Boston has thoroughly fucked with Ray’s life in a number of ways, and even Mew is harsher than usual to Ray when they run in to eachother in the bathroom and Mew tells Ray to stop doing drugs or he’ll be dead by 30. 

Ray loves Mew, Ray has been told over and over again by Mew that he only sees Ray as a friend, and there in the bathroom, Mew once again says “let’s be friends forever”. At this point, Mew has made it pretty fucking clear that he is never going to date Ray, and all of Ray’s friends have been shitty to him, and he is also drunk AND high, so for me it would track that Ray has literally nothing to lose by being honest. Every relationship Ray has, someone has fucked with. Top tries to get Mew on his side in his hatred of Ray, Sand put his barriers back up to protect his own feelings when Boston mentioned Ray’s crush on Mew, Ray fucked himself over with Mew by kissing him when he was asleep, Cheum points out Ray’s lack of love life and otherwise pretty much ignores Ray. So it also tracks for me that Ray would try to get back at everyone by fucking with their relationships.

Ray pulls a Top and gets up on stage to steal Sand’s microphone and make a public declaration, something that we as the audience should already know Mew does not like, because he said as much to Top after Top publicly asked Mew to be his boyfriend. Sand, bless him, tries to put a stop to this immediately by asking Ray what he is doing, but not to be deterred, and using the guise of Mew’s birthday he takes control of the microphone and the entire bar’s attention.  Before I go too much in to the actual roast session, I would recommend everyone who has seen Episode 6 go back to this scene and watch how Book plays Mew in this scene. Every single moment (until Mew gets mad that is) that Mew is on screen, he looks forlorn. But in the chaos of the bar scene, the quick cuts to all the couples dancing it can be hard to notice, especially if we weren’t looking out for it. This whole scene is set up spectacularly as foreshadowing for Mew’s revenge at the end of the episode, and if you pay close enough attention highlights the huge problems in Mew and Top’s relationship. Mew is upset, Mew is visibly upset, and Top is standing right there next to Mew the entire time. Top is dancing with Mew, Top is putting himself between Mew and Ray. Mew and Top are inches from each other during this entire scene and Top does not notice or ask about Mew’s mood shift once. Because Top has never truly been attentive to Mew’s feelings.

Anyway, Mew lays waste to Cheum, Boston, and Nick before Sand recognizes this is going nowhere good fast, and once again tries to put a stop to it. 

Ray has been ignored by too many people, Ray has been fucked with for too long for him to just let everything go and leave. And remember, he is drunk and high on cocaine so he is not de-escalating any time soon, and no one in that bar is at all equipped to change his focus and calm him down. Sand gets involved, but Sand is the cause of all of this mess because he gave Ray the information, and Ray will not be silenced, so he tries to insult Sand. “You don’t even want to be a singer, you just want to make money. If you want it so much, why don’t you sleep with me?” 

AND SORRY, I KNOW THAT I SHOULD REALLY BE TALKING ABOUT THE TOP, BOSTON, MEW OF IT ALL BUT I FUCKING LOVE THE IMPLICATIONS OF THIS LINE.

Because we know that Ray has offered to pay Sand for sex before, and we know that Ray has asked Sand how much he owed for their “one night stand”, only to have Sand on every occasion, reject the money. Sand has said that if he wants sex, he does it for free. Literally from the moment that Sand realized that he had some sort of positive feelings for Ray, and agreed to be his friend, he has not accepted a single bhat from Ray. But in front of all of these people, Ray is implying that Sand is a sex worker. In front of Boston, who has walked in on Ray and Sand making out, and in front of Nick who has interrupted Ray and Sand in the middle of something physically intimate on more than one occasion, Ray has just made it seem to them like Sand has been paid to cater to Ray’s every whim, in front of people that know Sand well. 

We love and respect sex workers in this house, but Ray? Ray is not saying this because he thinks sex work is okay. Ray is saying this because he thinks calling someone a prostitute (in a sense) is insulting, and that is not helped by the fact that they are in public and therefore Ray is subjecting Sand to public scrutiny over him potentially being a sex worker.  And in associating Sand with sex work, in associating sex with Ray as sex work, Ray is undermining the validity of any and all time that Sand and Ray have hung out together, and is highlighting his status as a higher class than Sand. 

Ray turns to Mew, showering praise and gratitude and well wishes upon him, and telling Mew “though that happiness doesn’t include me, I’m okay,” and Mew does not react in any way that is comforting, he doesn’t smile, he doesn’t nod. He just stands there, staring at Ray, and by my impression trying not to cry. And God, what I wouldn’t give to see Boston’s reaction to this moment, because we do not get to see him at all during this moment, and I want to know how confident Boston was feeling that Ray wouldn’t say anything about his affair with Top when Ray is acknowledging that he knows that Mew will never return his feelings.

I don’t know about you all, but personally, I believe Ray here. I think Ray has been rejected enough by Mew, and fucked up his relationship enough with Mew that he does just need to affirm to Mew that he understands what he has done, and that he understands that Mew will only ever think about him as a friend, and that Ray is there to support Mew in whatever he decides to do with the information, we as the audience do not know Mew already has. 

Ray turns his ire on Top, shouting at the top of his lungs, insulting Top, shoving Top, generally causing a scene and we finally get a glimpse of Boston, but he’s blurred out in the background, so while his face is unreadable, we get some indication of Boston’s emotional state by that fact that he is tuned the fuck in to everything going on, because the only thing we can read from Boston is that he is staring directly at Top. Ray continues to escalate, and Yo finally steps in, but she allows Ray to continue after a moment, which is like…girl, come on, where is the responsible bar owner? 

Ray starts shoving Top, Mew tries to step in, Top grabs Mew around the shoulder and jerks him back like he owns Mew. And because there are very few people in this world that take Ray seriously at all, Cheum tries to get involved. Reminding Ray that Mew is not gonna fuck him (I mean, that’s not exactly what she said but same shit) which Ray knows. I think, personally, that Ray is fully aware that there is a chance that he has completely ruined his relationship with Mew by valuing Mew enough to tell him the truth. That he has made himself as evil as Boston by telling Mew anything at all. 

I’ve said it before, I will say it again, Ray is one of the biggest open books in this show because of his substance use. We saw very early in the episode when the hotel management group was talking with their professor every single emotion, every single thought that Ray was

experiencing. From nearly the beginning of the show, we have seen Ray ignored or belittled by most of his friends, as someone who loves and has worked with drug users, I have to say that Jojo and co are doing an incredible job at demonstrating all the little ways that people discount, discredit, and dehumanize drug users. All of his friends, Boston, Cheum, and especially Mew think they are better than Ray because he uses drugs. We see it in the bathroom, right before the Ray-mpage, Mew realizing Ray has just done drugs, and then telling his suicidal friend that he would be dead before 30 if he keeps this behavior up. 

So of course Ray wants all these truths to come to light. Of course Ray has to be the one to do it. Because how dare all of these people stand around, pretending to be friendly to one another, pretending to care about one another, acting like they are all good people, when they are all manipulating, and controlling, and lying to each other. No one in this bar is better than Ray, even though they think they are. 

“No one has said a damn thing, which is why I need to” Ray shouts and then immediately turns to Boston. And as he continues to get riled up, as he gets closer to publicly revealing Top’s infidelity, Mew steps in, and it takes Mew punching Ray in the face to get him to shut the fuck up and preserve the image of clueless Mew.

Ray storms off and Sand goes running after him because he is the only person with some goddamn sense, realizing that Ray is going to endanger himself and others. They have their fight, which for the sake of space and time I am not going to talk about.

Mew v. Top

We reach a decompression point (so we think) after this fight, Sand quietly driving off after Ray, Nick reaching out to and having his comforting touch be rejected by Boston, Mew and Top walking back in to Mew’s apartment, with Mew only speaking when he is spoken to. 

Now, this cannot be convey through photographs alone, but I JUST NEED TO SHOUT TO THE HIGH HEAVENS ABOUT HOW FUCKING OBSESSED AND IN LOVE I AM WITH THE BACKGROUND MUSIC IN THIS SCENE. 

Besties, the vibes are RANCID. The music does not match the romantic scene we see Mew setting up, the lit candles, the supposed playlist he is putting on, the cuddling up to Top. The music we get underneath belongs in a horror movie. It’s suspenseful, it’s disconcerting. It is perfect. 

As soon as humanly possible Mew walks away from Top, enters a completely different room, and begins to lay his trap.

(Let it be stated for the record it was at this point where I started to think something might be up)

Top comes in to check on Mew and make sure he is alright, and as Book and Force have said, Top and Mew are competitive and poisonous for one another, and we are about to witness the perfect example of what happens with both of their propensities for control and manipulation come to a head.  Mew starts the game, initiating physical contact with Top, hugging him tight, rocking them back and forth. It is familiar, and comfortable, and there is absolutely no indication whatsoever from Mew’s body language that anything is wrong. (If you have not already, go back and watch the bar fight scene, and you will be presented with a drastically different Mew, because he is just gotten the news and he is processing his feeling and plotting his revenge, so he is a lot less capable of controlling the emotions on his face, and thus reads as detached and forlorn).

“Are you okay, Mew?” Top asks because he is at this point playing the role of devoted and concerned boyfriend extremely well (again a massive contrast to how he behaved at the bar, where he was possessive, reactive, and did not notice that anything was wrong with Mew despite being mere inches away from him). 

“I just wonder when Ray will be okay with you,” Mew responds, pulling away from Top to look him in the eyes. “I don’t want to choose.”

And what a great buy-in. Top hates Ray, Ray hates Top. Mew is perceptive and has been in the room on multiple occasions to see Top and Ray butting heads. Beyond the fact Ray went off on everyone at the bar, and it’s a relevant topic of conversation, Mew knows what he is doing bringing Ray in to his conversation with Top. 

Because Ray could have said “I’m okay”, he could have brushed the evening off, or said he wasn’t good, or bitched about Ray’s tendencies to ruin an evening with too much drinking. But he doesn’t mention any of that. He doesn’t attack Ray’s character, he doesn’t gripe about Ray’s actions. Mew explicitly brings up Ray’s feelings about Top. 

Giving Top a very good jumping off point for his own attempts at manipulation. 

“Why are you still friends with him?” Top asks. Undermining Mew’s previous line “I don’t want to choose.” Mew has literally just said that he wants to maintain his friendship with Ray and his relationship with Top, and implied that it is troubling him that the two of them cannot get along. That Ray cannot get along with Top. 

And instead of Top being sympathetic to that desire for Mew to get to keep two people he cares about in his life. Top tries to convince Mew to dump Ray altogether (which would further isolate Mew from his friends since Cheum really only seems to care about Mew’s sex life and Boston has intentionally been undermining Mew and Top’s relationship since it’s start).

This is not the first time that Top has tried to get what he wanted with just a question or suggestion. We can say all we want that LASIK was Mew’s idea, but Top suggested it first before he said something akin to “you know what, nevermind, you look cute in your nerd glasses”. He may have walked back his suggestion but it cannot be denied that he planted that seed. 

And planting a seed of doubt, of insecurity, of impatience with Ray’s behavior in to Mew’s mind is what I think Top is trying to do here. But Mew knows something Top doesn’t and where Mew may have started contemplating whether or not he actually does want to maintain a friendship with Ray, he is immune from that doubt seeping in in this case because he knows that Top is a dirty rotten liar. 

“I want to repay you,” Mew says a little bit further along in their conversation. “I don’t want you to forget about tonight.” (lmfao Mew, he definitely will not)

“It’s the birthday that I feel the most special.” and by God is Mew really laying it on thick. 

“Even though Ray ruined your night” Top can’t help but get a dig in, to remind Mew that Ray was a shitty friend on Mew’s birthday, to casually drop more evidence that Mew should pull away from his friendship with Ray. 

“Screw him. I have you by my side, there’s nothing to be afraid of” Mew is stoking Top’s ego, he’s lulling Top in to a false sense of security. Top has no idea what he is in for, he has no idea that Mew is playing games. Mew is doing such a thoroughly expert job with his performance he may even be annoying the audience, making them think that he didn’t connect the dots between Ray yelling at Top and Boston, and think that something might be wrong.

Top thanks Mew for making him like this version of himself, and to me this does make sense. There is this hollowness in the way I read Top and Mew’s entire relationship throughout the series. But I don’t doubt that some part of Top is interested in Mew. I have typically understood Mew and Top’s relationship to be an experiment from Top’s end to see what it would feel like to stop sleeping around.I think Top does genuinely enjoy at least part of his relationship with Mew, likes playing this role of doting boyfriend, but he is just playing. It is a performance. A skin he can shed the second he is out of Mew’s view.  

“Can I ask you one more gift?” Mew says, turning to face Top and without another word starts undressing him. Mew shoves Top on to the bed and starts kissing up his body (I shit you not I was shocked and literally said out loud, alone in my apartment “Damn, Book!”). This is not the first time that we have seen Mew raise the stakes of a physical encounter. From the beginning of their relationship, Mew has been entirely in control of if and when he and Top have sex. He holds on to that power, to his virginity for quite some time, but waffles in his confidence and power within the relationship by engaging in penetrative sex with Top because he is worried Top will be bored. 

This is the most intense, down and dirty level of physical intimacy we have ever seen from Top and Mew (and the same goes for Force and Book finally getting to step away from the slow and gentle sex scenes of shows past). Mew gets Top going, Mew gets Top in the zone, in the mood. Mew gets Top feeling good, moaning, before he drops the bomb. 

“I love the sound you make when you have sex” and this is where the tide begins to turn, where the audience may well and truly begin to pick up what Mew is putting down. But Top just thinks it’s hot. Top is playing along. Top wants to know what sounds he makes that Mew enjoys. This is a much different physical encounter than anything he has had from Mew before, and while Mew is once again leveraging physical intimacy to control Top, something he has been doing since their first sexual encounter. Though there is an intensity and surety to Mew’s actions here that feels markedly different than his other sexual interactions with Top where his movements were slower and less certain.  

“What sound?” Top asks, and oh boy has he just fucked himself over with this question. It is exactly the question Mew is hoping Top will ask. The perfect question for Mew’s pissed off, hurt, and dramatic ass to play the audio recording. 

And GOD DAMN TOP’S FUCKING REACTION? The fear and panic that enters his eyes, the speed and intentionality in the way Mew pushes himself off of Top.

Top’s fear and shock and awe lasts for mere seconds as he pulls himself upright at which point Force delivers one of my favorite lines in the entire exchange, “how did you get it?” 

Why is it one of my favorite? Because it acknowledges that Top knows that this audio recording exists. But it is said in passing, and asked as a question in such a way that Mew, who is about to actually let his emotions loose, might not actually realize the implications of the question. 

Because this is not Top asking “what is this?”, “where did this come from?”, “did you record me?” you know, the type of standard questions someone faced with an audio recording of them having sex might ask if they had never heard the audio recording before. But no, Top isn’t surprised to find out that he has been recorded. He is only scared and concerned about the fact that Mew got the recording from someone.

“How long ago was it?” Mew asks, and Top tries to equivocate “Mew, it was a long time ago,” as if Top thinks that he can what, brush off this audio recording? Dude. If Mew wasn’t busy trying not to slap you in the face, he would have noticed the practical admission of guilt you gave by nature of asking how he got the audio recording, you know he knows, why bother trying to lie? Mew does not let himself get convinced otherwise, and continues to press Top about whether or not he and Boston had fucked after he and Mew started dating and Top cannot look Mew in the eye until the very end of Mew’s line of questioning. And Top stays dead silent until Mew has asked him where and when he and Boston fucked, at which point he knows there is no getting out of this and he admits the truth. 

I don’t have much to say as of yet about the line Mew says “why did I have to know about this shit the day I’ve already loved you and given you everything?” mostly because I actually have a whole essay floating around in my brain that I am desperate to write for this show, but I do not have enough evidence to justify it yet, so I am waiting patiently for if the opportunity presents itself. But irrespective of that, there is an implication here that Mew held some level of possessiveness over his virginity and in having sex with Top committed to his relationship with Top. Mew is the kind of person that seems to think virginity has weight to it, and it is something to lose, something that can be lost.

Now. If Mew had stopped here and just broken up with Top, he would have won the day. But unfortunately, Mew is a human character with thoughts, feelings, and imperfections that are going to undermine his best efforts to be a diabolical schemer. (Something that I very much appreciate about this show is that every single person in the show has moments of utter genius that grant them the upper hand and a brief win. But no one is so impressive as to pull off a flawless victory or maintain their champion status for long). 

So unfortunately, we start getting insight in to Mew that we have not really had before, when he starts spiraling over Top and Boston hooking up. Mew, who has up until this point felt very secure in his inexperience with sex. And there have been signs of deeper insecurities popping up, namely that Mew had penetrative sex with Top to keep him interested in their relationship. “Why did it have to be Boston?” (who Mew called to ask for sex advice), “Couldn’t it have been anyone else?” Top looks guilty when Mew asks these questions, but that quickly changes as Mew’s spiral worsens “You guys planned this together?” Top’s head whips up to meet Mew’s eyes, he postures, he shifts his weight, he inhales a breath as if he is preparing to speak, and his face changes to a perfect picture of disagreement at the accusation. “You just wanted to mess with a virgin idiot like me?” Top actually tries to interrupt Mew’s spiral here, to calm Mew’s suspicions of malice against him. 

It is at this point Mew has his Boss Ass Bitch card revoked on the grounds of undermining the absolutely devastating and badass power play he just flawlessly pulled off by creating this fantasy in his head about big bad evil Top and Boston laughing at his inexperience. Especially because (and this is not to blame Mew at all) part of what drove Top to fuck Boston was Mew’s competitive nature and his desire to prove Top really wanted a relationship with him by withholding sex for an extremely long time. It was not Mew’s inexperience, but rather his virtue signaling and tight hold on having his first time that resulted in Boston’s successful attempt at convincing Top that Mew was lying to him about being a virgin. 

“Mew, you made that all up in your head, it’s nothing like that,”

“Well, what am I supposed to think when I can’t trust any word you say?” Mew turns away, only to be quickly embraced by Top. Both of them quiet, upset, and the episode ends with the future of their relationship uncertain.

[shatcey]

Work week (Mitsuhide)

A week ago, an event in Sengoku ended about warlords who find their jobs in the modern world. And since Mitsu as always is the first option for me (he is perfect, just perfect), of course, I read his story. But… this time I decided to read it on both endings. That's how much glamour it took.

I spent everything I had on the previous event, so that was all I managed to get. But I'm not complaining. It turned out that the endings are completely different. It's like I've read two stories instead of one.

Mitsu went to another city for a few days and disappeared during a storm. Both Sasuke and Mai instantly came to the same conclusion. And then the next wormhole appeared, Mai jumped into it to go to the future and save Mitsu.

Girl, you know him! Why would HE of all people get into trouble? Unless he WANTS to be in trouble. I mean, okay, it's a different time, different laws, but this is Mitsu… His brain works at the speed of light… (deep exhale) Whatever.

So, she appears in modern time and heads to the nearest place, where he was supposed to appear 3 months before. Hotel.

Of course it was him. But this little bastard beautiful man played a very good servant and didn't show that he recognized her.

Looking at this, I remembered all the jokes about Theo's hat. Is his hair so thick and though that a hat can be held on it, barely touching them? Or can't he even put a hat on them for the same reason? Poor thing… How do you comb them?

He took Mai to her room, and then she finally found the strength to ask if it was him… He just jokingly asked if she had forgotten what her lover looked like in three months.

Awww... How can I be angry with you??

The next day, after breakfast, they heard a scream and…

Premium

A fired employee takes a hostage to get hold of money that he thinks belongs to him. He tried to use Mai as an assistant to collect money in a bag, but Mitsu volunteered to help.

While this guy was telling how unfairly he was treated when he was still working here, Mitsu agreed so convincingly to all his nonsense that the guy took a liking to him.

And he threw a bag of money in the guy's face. It was so heavy that he fell and dropped the gun. I guess it was a very big bag of money… While the guy was trying to get up, Mitsu freed the hostage and put the gun away. Truly the hero of the hotel!

In his room, he explained that this was his mission from the very beginning. The hotel owner was afraid that this completely insane employee might do something stupid, and hired Mitsu to take care of it. So he wasn't a bellman, but secutiry in disguise.

Well, he's so good at it that people immediately recognize his talent.

Normal

The scream came from the storage. Someone fell, and there was a lot of blood around him. Mitsu checked on him…

Good for you, girl. Every event in your life is a valuable experience.

The employee who shouted earlier said it was probably true that this hotel was cursed.

Back at Mai's room, Mitsu tells Mai that he needs her help to find out the truth. At night, they went to the same storage and hid in one of the lockers. Some guys came in and started saying it was their doing to get the owner to sell the hotel on the cheap. Mitsu came out of the locker and tried to resolve the situation peacefully. But they weren't listening.

I didn't take any more screenshots after that, so I don't remember the last part. Probably something romantic…

I'm absolutely happy. Mitsu looks gorgeous in any clothing. Even this weird hat cannot ruin his perfection. And the story was interesting. A little bit of a negotiator, a little bit of a detective. I love it.

I'm just wondering what Mai was doing in the three months after he disappeared. I would probably die of anxiety… Three months… That's a lot!

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