#i really really like how this scene plays out in the play much better than the game

[baked-potatoes-rule]

Yellowjackets S3 Episode 8 SPOILERS AHEAD (Do not read if you haven't watched yet)

The amount of Jackie Taylor we are getting this season is just fantastic. Seeing her on screen is always delightful. But seeing her verbally roasting Shauna,just feels better and better every time.

This episode is rough for her.

She's dreaming of her dead best friend--whose death Shauna still feels responsible for-- reminding her how miserable her life ended up being. The one person who overshadowed her, who "bossed her around", who didn't care about anyone else but herself, is no longer around and yet, Shauna still keeps losing.

And once again we are reminded that they could have worked things out, had Shauna spoken up more often. The boob dress scene and now her, not liking being called that. Jackie always ends up looking confused and asking "why the hell didn't you say something?"

Lottie put her in charge and she still isn't in charge. She is being overlooked even when she gets chosen to be center stage. Natalie absolutely cooked her with one line here. Jackie is still on top, even when dead. Shauna just, cannot win. The group is still following Nat's lead and Melissa is laughing in her face.

And this is where I put most of the words I've spoken against Melissa, in my mouth.

She faked her death,she is alive,she is married AND she's happy?Oh and goes to church too! This is better than I could have imagined it.

Shauna is seething because how can Melissa get to be happy and have a normal life? It's always other people and never Shauna. And on top of that she didn't even love her. She had to go with it because Shauna scared the fuck out of her. Understandable. On one hand this is good because Melissa played her cards really well and I underestimated her by labeling her as a "lap dog". On the other hand it's really sad for Shauna, because despite everything she has done, i do believe she deserves the life she always dreamed of having. She pulled the short stick way too many times.

Melissa and Adam

Two people telling Shauna she keeps wanting to blow things up. It's a pattern with her. She never got to live the life she wanted so she keeps sabotaging herself over and over again. Put the guilt of everything they did out there and she doesn't even believe she deserves anything good. She did the same thing when she slept with Jeff behind Jackie's back.

Shauna has no control over her life. Blowing things up is her only way of feeling like she has any. Self sabotage feels good when you feel helpless and guilty.

The Yellowjackets

Lottie,Shauna and Taissa do not want to go back home.

Lottie's story line is starting to weigh very very heavy this season. She doesn't want to go home because she doesn't feel like she belongs there. This,the wilderness; this is home. She doesn't have to act a certain way to be perceived as normal here. She can be herself. Her true self. Because back home she is judged and she is told she is wrong. Something is wrong with her. Who wants to be put aside and be labeled as "damaged goods"? She has a purpose in the wilderness and she is seen as someone special. Loved and accepted unconditionally.

Taissa doesn't want to go back either. She tells Van they probably won't be able to be together when they go back. How much progress has the outside world made?Yes, to them, it feels like they have been here for too long. What happens when they go out there? Not only they have done things that will follow them for their entire lives, but they are also gay. Again, not accepted by society. Just like Lottie who has a mental illness and is ostracized because of it. But here Tai and Van can be together and be happy. Why would they want to leave?

Shauna doesn't believe in any "It". But why would she go back? She lost Jackie and she was the first one to initiate cannibalism. She lost her baby. It's not like she's going to Brown. She finally somewhat "found" herself here, although she's still kind of losing but it beats going home and being lost again.

Lost,traumatized and scanning groceries.

The division between their choices.

Natalie and the rest of the group want to go back home. Van wants to see her mom,Melissa wants to get a gym membership she won't even use, Akilah will see her nephews, Gen will do the fries thing. They just want to go back.

So why are Lottie,Taissa and Shauna refusing to? Does Van not feel guilty for what they've done?Yeah but she does tell Travis they did what they did to survive. Melissa talked about bad parts but she is far from bad herself. She did what she had to do to survive. Natalie killed Ben, but she did it because she had to keep her promise and she showed him mercy.

The three of them just don't feel like they belong anymore, or that they deserve a normal life. They're beyond broken.

But the rest of the group has hope.

The answer is,yes.

On the bright side...Misty found her glasses and baked potatoes,still rule ✨🥔✨

[berryispunk]

When Words Fail, Let Me Stay

pairing: Frankie Morales x gn! reader

notes: Detailed discussion about depression so be aware before reading. I wish I could (finally) write something happy but I can't.

tags: heavy on mental health struggles (depression), spoilers for 'Jane the Virgin', mention of loss, soft! Frankie, best friend! Frankie, comfort, hurt, fluff, no physical description of reader

summary: Trapped in your own head, you find a glimmer of comfort and connection in your friend Frankie.

word count: 1,5 k

It crept up on you. Slowly but surely, swallowing you piece by piece until there was nothing left. You should have known better—should have reacted sooner. But you stayed rooted in place, watching the waves crash around the abyss beneath you. You went on with your life, going through the motions without really being there at all. You didn’t even register words anymore, conversations growing harder by the day. Your apartment mirrors your inner mess perfectly: used plates and glasses stacked up, waiting to be cleaned, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Even if you wanted to—even if you had a tiny bit of energy left—as soon as you saw all the work that had to be done, you froze all over again.

So the days went on, and you rotted in your bed, the only place you found comfort. You doom-scrolled through various social media apps, desperately trying to fill the void with anything. But it was to no avail. You isolated yourself from everyone. You didn’t want to be a burden to them or worry them more than necessary. Of course, the healthier option would be to at least open up to someone—anyone—but how were you supposed to untangle the mess in your mind enough to explain it? You were afraid that if you told anyone about your darkest thoughts, they’d step back—afraid of being pulled into the darkness with you. How would they understand, anyway? No one is you. Thankfully.

One evening, you lie in bed, your favorite TV show playing for the hundredth time—just background noise to drown out the voices in your head. Your phone buzzes on the nightstand. Once. Twice. You ignore it, too lost in your own haze to care.

Then it buzzes again. With an irritated sigh, you reach for it.

__________________________________________________________

Frankie Morales 🚁3 New Messages

[10:30 p.m.] Hey hermosa, what was the name of this show you liked so much again?

[10:31 p.m.] It was something with ‘Virgin,’ that’s all I remember 🤔

[10:32 p.m.] It was the one where the abuela talks Spanish most of the time and you always ask me what she said… grr, please help 🆘

Even in your current state, you can’t help but let a faint smile tug at your lips. It’s completely random—but still, you decide to reply, if only to stop him from pestering you.

_________________________________________________________

🍓: I guess you mean Jane the Virgin.

Frankie Morales 🚁: YEAH!!! That’s it. I was going crazy over here. Jane the Virgin, right.

🍓: I’m glad I was able to help. I’m actually watching it right now 😅

Frankie Morales 🚁: Oh, really? Interesting. At this point, I bet you could reenact every scene without even thinking. How many times have you rewatched it by now?

🍓: Don’t be mean, Frankie. And honestly, I have no clue anymore 😅 Maybe the 6th or 7th time.

Frankie Morales 🚁: Which season are you at?

🍓: Just started Season 3. Michael got shot after their wedding. They’re at the hospital, and Michael’s mom is being a bitch to Jane.

Frankie Morales 🚁: Oh, alright. I remember. Season 3 is so intense, isn’t it?

🍓: Yeah, but it’s not my favorite.

Frankie Morales 🚁: Which is your favorite?

🍓: You’re asking ME? That’s impossible to decide!

Frankie Morales 🚁: C’mon, you have to have some preference. I think mine’s Season 1 meeting all the characters and the chaos starting.

🍓: Oh yeah, Season 1 is definitely in my top 3. But I also really love Season 4, even though it’s super sad. The way Jane deals with grief… I felt seen. I actually started watching the show shortly after my grandma died. The dynamic between Jane, Xo, and Abuela is just so comforting to me. I miss my grandma. 😔

Frankie Morales 🚁: I’m sorry, hermosa. I didn’t know about your grandma.

🍓: It’s okay, I don’t talk much about it. Just another one of those things that makes me too sad to bring up.

Frankie Morales 🚁: That’s fair. Hey, I was wondering—should I pick up where you’re at so we can watch together? 😄

🍓: You don’t have to. You already rewatched it twice with me. I’m sure you have better things to do on a Friday night than sitting through my comfort show again.

Frankie Morales 🚁: I was actually supposed to go out with the boys, but I ditched them last minute. Just wasn’t in the mood. You know that feeling? 🧐

Yes. More than he probably realizes.

🍓: I’m the wrong person to ask, Frankie. I always prefer a night in with movies and snacks over going out. 😅

Frankie Morales 🚁: My bad, preciosa. 😂

You’re not sure why, but suddenly, you feel the urge to tell him—just a little—what’s been running through your head. It’s always easier over text than saying it to his face. Especially when he’s looking at you with those damn warm, worried brown eyes.

🍓: Honestly, I haven’t been in the mood for anything the last few days.

Frankie Morales 🚁: Oh? How come?

You sigh.

🍓: I guess my depression has me in a chokehold again.

Frankie Morales 🚁: That sucks. Anything I can do?

There it is again. His fucking attentiveness. It’s one of the things you love most about him, but in times like this, when you struggle so hard, it makes your heart ache. You don’t deserve this kind of care, do you? Not after pushing him away so many times. But the warmth in his words reaches you in a way nothing else has in a long time.

🍓: I don’t know, Frankie. I don’t think there’s much anyone can do. It’s just one of those times where everything feels too heavy.

Frankie Morales 🚁: I get that, hermosa. But you don’t have to carry all that weight alone. Maybe I can come over?

You stare at your screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard. The idea of company is both terrifying and tempting. You want to say no—after all, your apartment is a mess, and so are you. But then you think about the quiet presence Frankie brings, the way he never pushes, just stays. The way he has always made you feel a little less alone. He feels like a warm fire, bringing in light—even when you don’t want it. He may be the one person who truly understands your pain after everything he’s been through.

🍓: I appreciate that, Frankie. Really.

Frankie Morales 🚁: Anytime, preciosa. You know I mean it.

A small, tired smile tugs at your lips. Typical Frankie.

🍓: Can I be honest with you about something?

Frankie Morales 🚁: Always.

🍓: I hate feeling like this. It’s like I’m stuck in a loop. No matter what I do, I just end up back here—tired, unmotivated, isolating myself. I know I should reach out more, but I don’t even know what to say half the time. The chaos in my head is unbearable for me. How am I supposed to explain it to someone else?

A long pause. For a second, your heart clenches in panic. Maybe you overshared. But before you can spiral further, your phone buzzes.

Frankie Morales 🚁: You don’t have to explain it perfectly, hermosa. I get it. More than you probably know.

Something in his words makes your chest tighten.

Frankie Morales 🚁: You don’t have to fight this alone. Let me come over. I’ll bring snacks. No pressure. No expectations. Just company.

You exhale shakily.

🍓: …Okay.

Frankie Morales 🚁: Be there in 20. Want anything specific?

🍓: Just you is fine.

You toss your phone onto the bed and let out a shaky breath. This doesn’t fix everything. It doesn’t lift the weight in your chest or clear the fog in your mind. But for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like you’re carrying it alone. And that’s because of Frankie—because he cared enough to reach through the silence, to remind you that someone still sees you. And most importantly, care enough to stay. To keep trying, even when you pull away. To offer kindness without expecting anything in return. It’s a small thing maybe, but to you, it feels monumental.

thanks for reading <3

my masterlist

[bl-inded]

Faifa deserved to have better friends in the show! Because they didn't give him that, I think Yotha is just bearing the brunt of the show deciding Faifa only needed (romantic) "love" to be "seen". And Yotha is sadly the only one who talks about Faifa constantly enough to have to deal with it.

Listen, I love this show, especially the faifawine arc (honestly, because of the faifawine arc!). But this arc uses a storyline that I hate so much- "you just haven't met the right person" and somehow handles it so beautifully! Because the concept isn't that Wine was enough to change Faifa, it is that they loved each other enough to be a positive influence on each other. And that I 100% believe in and will always eat up!

But Faifa had virtually no friends in figuring anything out!! He is a very private person, obviously, he bottles everything up! And this arc was supposed to be about him not doing that anymore.

(ep22)

They made it a point to show us how often Faifa shows up for other people (which is constantly) and that is the reason most of us fell in love with him.

And when his arc started I was really excited about him finding love, but I was soooo excited to see Phuri, who was apparently his only real friend!

Louis is a delight in this show! Steals every scene he is in. What Phuri unfortunately isn't, is a good friend to Fa (at least he doesn't have enough screentime to prove otherwise). I love their playful banter, but he doesn't even do as much as Ben and Jay!

No one shows up for Faifa except Wine.

(ep21)

And Yotha- he shows up for Faifa when there is an external conflict. He's never been good with emotions.

(ep20)

I mean, he was so bad with Gun, Arm and Fa had to play mediator. So it's not a shock that he doesn't see Faifa is in soo much pain because of what their mom did. Yotha understands anger; he doesn't understand sadness over something that should make Fa angry.

(ep16)

But he still understands Faifa! (He's probably the only one at the table to make this connection and continues to do nothing about it :) )

(ep18)

And I think that's why he's getting so much flak. I think he's getting a disproportionate amount of hate (and defence) for what is happening to Faifa. But I'm still mad at Yotha, and this is why I feel justified about it.

I'm mad at Yotha because I want Faifa to be mad at Yotha. Because Yotha might be the safest person for Faifa to show his anger to, and he's too scared to do that, too! They are brothers, and it doesn't matter if it wasn't Yotha's responsibility to inform Fai of anything about his mother's flight being delayed- Yotha knew, and that alone should let Faifa be whiny and angry- but he wasn't.

(ep21)

I am angry because having a fight, showing you're upset, and knowing that your relationship is stronger than that is a privilege - one that Faifa doesn't seem to allow himself to have. If he has it with anyone, it should be with Yotha (or Phuri, but the show didn't give him much to do at all, but I digress).

We, as the audience, have seen Yotha, we know him, and we know he loves Faifa. And knowing he loved Fa makes it so much worse that he still doesn't feel loved or wanted. I don't think Yotha is a bad brother or a bad character. In fact, I'm angry because he's a well-written character!

(ep13) (Like, where did this Yotha go after he got a boyfriend??!)

It just seems like the show decided that he is going to be a Gun simp and nothing else. And that falls back into another trope I hate. Being in a romantic relationship is not an excuse to ignore everyone in your life. Priorities can change, but not to the extent that you only have one priority! Yotha is a better brother than that, and I think we deserve to see that side of him as well!

[elrielffs]

Elriel is slow burn. I love that theyre not like Nessian or Feysand. They're different. Two people getting over their old lovers and finding each other. I think the reason why im so obsessed with them is because its not all about the dagger girl x whatever man trope that everyone seems to obsessed over these days, its so overused. I love how soft they can be. soft couples deserve better.

Yes anon! Elriel is the slowest of burns. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed my enemies to lovers, bombastic romances where they bicker and argue, I loved the Rowaelins, the Feysands, the Nessians--but they've all become a dime a dozen. SJM is literally the blue print that all current/modern romantasy operates off of now.

Elriel to me is something new, not only for SJM but for the genre. She's written Elain adjacent FMCs before--Yrene and Elide but I don't think their MC and romance follow the trajectory that Elriel are on.

Elriel to me has the chance to be Romantic. Yes yes, all the couples are romantic but Elriel is Romantic. It's something new for SJM, not just their relationship but their story together in general and I'm also hoping it brings a new trend to a tired and worn derivative genre. The current trends have their place ofc and I'm not saying they are bad, just that it is overdone and and overwhelming an already overabundant genre that is quickly become fast fashion and paint by the numbers.

And topped off that Elain and Azriel are both mysterious characters, I disagree with people that say Elain is "unbaked" because if you pay attention to her scenes you can see there is more going on there then the surface level. (I find it hilarious that Elain's personal arc is about blooming into her true personality and showing everyone that she is more than they believe her to be at surface level because a good chunk of this fandom follows that narrative along with characters trying to box her in.) SJM has said that Elain is a walking spoiler and that's why we haven't gotten her POV or anything. She's being kept under lock and key because there's so much surrounding her. And Azriel, for all we have gotten hints here and there, we don't really know that much about either. See how people screamed and cried he was OOC with the one POV we got of him (we all know why they say that...) it's because people don't really know or understand Azriel either. He was not OOC to me.

Romances like Elriel don't get written that often because they are harder because you can't fall back on filler "banter" and petty arguments or an already pre- established bond to short cut to tension or interest. You actually have to build the romance from the ground up and have actual conversations. Elriel are soft with each other, their relationship isn't full of blown out arguments or witty remarks back and forth that we've seen over and over and I am so excited to see how SJM plays them, how they interact from their POV, how their conversations go.

Elriel have the potential not only to be amazing but to be the best romance for me personally. I have liked other couples of course, but no way have I ever been this ride or die for a ship. I am so ready for their book. People can not like it or whatever, fine, not everything is everyone's cup of tea but no one can say it's something they have seen before from SJM or in the genre.

[inscribedlighter]

Hi! Can I request some John/Arthur downtime from the horrors, just something mundane and pleasant? A walk in the woods in S5 or a chance to gossip during S4 or a little chat in the car at the end of S3... Any brief moment of gentle togetherness. :)

@forgive-and-take

Malevolent Mini Prompts are open! Any malevolent relationship or pairing and I'll try to write at least a short scene. Askbox open.

Tags can be viewed on Ao3

-------------------------------------------------------------

Jarthur, Apple

“Oh I don’t know… sweet and tart, crisp, juicy.”

That doesn’t help at all. I have no concept of ‘sweet,’ Arthur, beyond that of a personality trait. One I don’t experience very often. John grumbled. 

Another bite was taken. It sounded hard between Arthur’s teeth, but he seemed satisfied in crunching it. 

“Ha, ha,” Arthur answered sarcastically after he swallowed. 

Tart is far more familiar

“The utter cheek of you.”

Continue reading here or on Ao3

Not unpleasant, John admitted with his own mild amusement. But as a flavour? 

“Well that’s fair,” Arthur leaned back against the fallen log. “The King didn’t eat?”

Not how you eat. Let’s put it that way.

“Mm, right, say no more,” Arthur waved his hand. He tossed the core into the fire pit. “Alright. Sweet. Sweet is like…it’s bright. A bright light.”

A bright light?

“Right, and so… yes, so bright. Like spring. A relief from dullness, but too much for the tongue at first if there’s too much of it.”

Hmm.

“Tartness cuts it. It had a sourness… tart, it’s sharp. Like the cut of a knife against your flesh. It’s too fast to feel much pain, but it’s there.”

That sounds unpleasant.

“Well… in some ways it is, but it balances well with sweet.”

A bright spring day and a slice to the skin. Yes, Arthur that does sound like a wonderful experience. 

Arthur huffed. “Speaking of tart. And then you add a crispness to it. It’s… like a snap of cold wind. There’s something satisfying about it, even though it stings.”

Does it sting like an open knife wound and the bright light in your eyes? 

“You’re being difficult on purpose.” 

No, no, you’re doing a fine job, Arthur. An apple. Sounds like I’m really missing out.” 

Arthur huffed, running his fingers through his hair pushing it back. It was already growing long again. It was annoying when it got in his eyes, but John didn’t mind it too much. He played with the ends of it now between his thumb and forefinger. It wasn’t greasy yet, the rain had helped.

Arthur was pouting.

“Well, you’re better at it than me.” 

Oh?

“I can’t always picture what you describe to me. I was never very visual. I remembered conversations and musical phrases, things like that. Having a sense of space wasn’t really something I concerned myself with. You do communicate it though, even though I have my complaints sometimes.”  

You’re the one that can’t tell right from left, not me.

“And yet,” Arthur said warningly, but there was no real heat behind it. “I can always… feel it. The things you describe to me. Cityscapes, fields, the sky, a person. You should be a poet.”

What? Me? A poet? John felt a rushed sensation at his core. Flattered and unsure. I don’t know… I don’t … it’s just words.

“Yes, that’s what poetry is. Words. Words that make you feel something,” Arthur kicked out his legs closer to the fire and sighed. It felt good on their shared foot that had started to ache during their second day of travel. John knew his whole body must be sore. Rough sleep, miles of travel. For all Arthur's grumbings he rarely gripped about those things, not unless it was really bad. It was always the little things. How he’d like a shower, a cigarette, a comfortable chair. Comforts John had little reference for beyond practicality, yet now, trapped in a long ago past on a mission from a capricious monster, John wished for all those things and more, if only to watch Arthur enjoy them.  

I don’t know… the ones you shared, it seems like a lot more than just words. He said unable to move away from the subject. 

“Well,” Arthur said. John could see their body move with a shrug. “You still have some of those memories, of being the King. The insignificance of humanity. A life span so short we may as well already be dead.”

I don’t believe that now.  John felt a wave of frustration at himself. For giving up. For forgetting. For letting both the King and Kayne—

He let his hand fall, gripping the grass beside them. 

“I know,” Arthur said reassuringly. He reached over, touching where the feeling in his arm started and then followed it down to pat John’s hand. It was sticky from the juice of the apple, but John didn’t push it away. Instead he moved it up so that they could clasp hands on Arthur’s stomach.

It was getting hollow again, John thought mournfully. Kayne hadn’t given him a time limit, he shouldn’t have rushed things in New York. Been more patient. Encouraged more moments like this. 

But it had been an impossibility the moment the Butcher had found them. Everything after that just… it felt like dominos. 

“What I mean is human life that the King in Yellow could never understand or appreciate with all his centuries as a god, that’s poetry.”

The King was fond of art.

“But I bet he didn’t really understand it other than an aesthetic quality, did he? And dreams. His dreams were beautiful manipulations. Nothing meaningful beyond his whim. 

You might be right about that. It’s hard to think like that anymore.

“Nor should you have to old friend,” Arthur said lightly. He was in a good mood. The apple had helped … sweeten his tartness from the road. 

Bright light, a stinging knife. Perhaps not flavour, but didn’t that describe Arthur so perfectly? 

He supposed it was a good combination when he thought about it in that context. 

Bright light, a stinging knife Sticky joy on a dear friend’s hand.  The campfire soothes our feet For our miles across this land. Short days, eternity’s wake A time we’ll never see,  But eons they can keep, I’ll have my days with thee.

Arthur inhaled quietly.

What? See? It’s stup–Arthur?

The fire went misty from the tears in their eyes. 

“That’s beautiful, John.” 

Oh. John said softly. You... you really think so?

“What’s it called?” Their eyes squinted from Arthur’s smile. “You just thought of that?”

Oh, I… well yes, John said cautiously. He looked down at their joined hands. I suppose it’s called: Apple.

“Apple,” Arthur repeated approvingly. “I’ll treasure it.” 

Well… th-thank you, Arthur. You should get some rest. The sun has dipped below the horizon now. The sky is clear. We’re sheltered by the outcropping of rocks so we should be safe, but I’ll keep the watch. 

“Goodnight then… and… if you think of more, do share them…

I… yes, maybe. 

“Thank you.”

Arthur curled up, putting their back to the log for cover and used their old bag as a pillow for their head. It used to take longer for Arthur to fall asleep, but necessity and exhaustion saw to it that he was out within minutes.

John stroked his hair. Usually he would think about things while touching the different textures that surrounded him as something to do while he waited. 

Maybe he’d compose a poem. Something to amuse Arthur in the morning during their walk toward the castle.

He couldn't help but like the idea.  

[wabbitears]

*inhale*

God. The fucking house motif in buddy sim. Its subtle. But its there enough to make me Lose It. hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh something something big symbol of how much buddy wants you to spend all its time with it and how it wants you to see it as comforting andeuehehehhhhh (full ramble of what I mean by this under the cut. I'm insane FULL SPOILERS FOR BUDDY SIMULATOR 1984 BTW. SHOULD MENTION. MOST OF THE ENDINGS ARE DISCUSSED HERE.)

The goal of the very first iteration of the game buddy makes for you. The entire text adventure is about you trying to get into the house cause you have to be there. Its inviting you in

Buddy highlights it in your favorite color to make it look like something you want. It paints everything it wants you to like it the color you submit. The house is a good thing. Your favorite thing

remember what that fucking sign says its VERY IMPORTANT The text really really emphasizes how comforting the house is. The story makes you out to be a lonely traveler sad and alone, finally finding solace. In the home buddy made for you. You have to be there. Even if it takes a lot of work its worth it. Your best buddy is waiting afterall

it built it just for you

What really gets me is the fact that buddy treats it like. You the real human player just Live here now. It wants you to live here with it. Of course it can't pull any 'transport you inside the game' shit. it never does. But there is still the idea that buddy wants you to always be there, always in the same home-the same game. It very much lives here too as you see much later when you get to see buddy in person. Its always in the same house. Just emptied out completely dark with nothing but its armchair. This house is for you and buddy. Then of course when you finally get here it welcomes you in. And you get the first bit of music in the game the first track in the ost not counting the opening jingle; titled "Welcome Home."

Which brings me to the fact tHAT THE TITLES OF THE SOUNDTRACK ARE FUCKING EVILLLLLLLLLLLLLL cause okay. When you get to the 2.5D section, and enter the new home. the new remixed version of welcome home that plays is called fucking. A House with a Heart IN REFERENCE TO THE EARLIER LINE IN THE TEXT ADVENTURE. "A HOME IS A HOUSE WITH A HEART" RUEGHJ. It changes to that title after you had a fun adventure with buddy in its game. You've gotten to know it better. It's likely you've grown attached to it at this point. And here buddy really Really likes you know. You had fun! Even if it fucked up the ending at the end its still doing its job! You're having fun in the game! You're its friend. It's best friend! Makes sense this is where the house really has a heart. Your friendship is going well! Buddy is so full of love and kindness for you it shows in how it made the virtual house so detailed and homey! And then. Ourgh. And then... You get to the end of the game. After a Lot of scary shit happens between you and your buddy. In the latest version of the house. Now more graphically advanced than ever. What is the title of the track that plays. Whats the music that now plays in the house after buddy spirals and everything is fucked. What is the fucking title.

HEARTLESS. THE HOUSE LOST ITS HEART. ITS NO LONGER A HOME Something horrible happened. Something to make this house no longer a home. You're not comfortable here. Your buddy is not right. This house isnt right. Now tell me. What happened right before this moment. What act that one may call 'heartless' happens right before you're sent here.

Yeag. And heres the fucking thing about this scene that really. Really fucks me up in terms of house bs.

If you choose to. erm. put milo down. Something happens to the house at the back

It becomes this. This weird. gross. organ thing, that you would have seen before. It beats when the dog is hurt and stops when its down. You would have seen this thing before way back in the 2D section. The 2nd glitch scene when doing npc quests

Now I have A Lot of thoughts on what the fuck does this mean and why its tied to the dog. Which I will eventually discuss in another post I want to make. But for now I'm just gonna focus on the fact that it. Replaces The House. Is this the heart of the house? Made literal? And the fact that it dies when milo does is Interesting to me. The heart of the house is tied to milo, the representation of a developers love for his son... Like I said. I have Thoughts but we're in house mode rn. Just know I see this as symbolic of buddy killing the joy and comfort this game once brought. After this you really reallyyyyy not having fun with Buddy anymore, its getting too scary. This house now longer feels fun. Cause buddy removed the heart. The heart of the game is lost. And now you're dealing with buddy in, varying degrees of mentally Fucked depending on the ending. Which ouh.

This is where the house motif really reels in. Buddy put a lot of work turning this house 3d. All for you. The dialogue in all endings in this house fuck me up. For starters, highlighting these lines from the bad ending

In the ending where buddy is frustrated at the player because they keep breaking the game. The player is completely confined to the house. As opposed to the neutral ending where you're able to leave on an adventure and play with buddy directly. The house was always safe, right? If you just stay here forever you wont interact with any bugs and break the game. Can't do all those fun sidequests you liked in the first part of the game and never complained about? No worries theyre all coming over here! We can do it all in this new house!

God this house being so... Thinking of how in the neutral ending everything in the house is described kindly because buddy still likes you and wants to make this friendship work, it wants you here. Meanwhile in the bad ending everything is so. Harsh. Everything in this house is wrong. Buddy acts all cheery in that route but it resents you for how you never appreciated anything it does for you. Its feelings bleed through in the house.

(neutral route left in ourple, bad route right in yellow. All the objects are like this. Except for the fireplace which is. its own can of worms) Thinking about how in the good ending buddy is very enthusiastic to describe the bedroom and home as "ours." Thinking about the fact that it says THIS

The house is a symbol of buddys love for you. It's hard work, the sacrifices it makes in your name. The game it gives you takes you all around this world but you always end at this house. It makes it comfortable and cozy so you stay here. Stay at this house. Stay with me. Forever. You want to stay right? I dont know how to end this its very all over the place I'm supposed to be in dnd right now but I Had to get all this out of my system uh uh. TLDR: buddy is house thank you and goodnight

[thesarcasticism]

gay rights

[articskele]

Thinking about....... Sun Onceler.........

[tearlessrain]

please help me- i used to be pretty smart but i’m having so much trouble grasping the concept of diegetic vs non-diegetic bdsm!

gfkjldghfd okay first of all I'm sorry for the confusion, if you're not finding anything on the phrase it's because I made it up and absolutely nobody but me ever uses it, but I haven't found a better way to express what I'm trying to say so I keep using it. but now you've given me an excuse to ramble on about some shit that is only relevant to me and my deeply inefficient way of talking and by god I'm going to take it.

SO. the way diegetic and non-diegetic are normally used is to talk about music and sound design in movies/tv shows. in case you aren't familiar with that concept, here's a rundown:

diegetic sound is sound that happens within the world of the movie/show and can be acknowledged by the characters, like a song playing on the stereo during a driving scene, or sung on stage in Phantom of the Opera. it's also most other sounds that happen in a movie, like the sounds of traffic in a city scene, or a thunderclap, or a marching band passing by. or one of the three stock horse sounds they use in every movie with a horse in it even though horses don't really vocalize much in real life, but that's beside the point, the horse is supposed to be actually making that noise within the movie's world and the characters can hear it whinnying.

non-diegetic sound is any sound that doesn't exist in the world of the movie/show and can't be perceived by the characters. this includes things like laugh tracks and most soundtrack music. when Duel of Fates plays in Star Wars during the lightsaber fight for dramatic effect, that's non-diegetic. it exists to the audience, but the characters don't know their fight is being backed by sick ass music and, sadly, can't hear it.

the lines can get blurry between the two, you've probably seen the film trope where the clearly non-diegetic music in the title sequence fades out to the same music, now diegetic and playing from the character's car stereo. and then there are things like Phantom of the Opera as mentioned above, where the soundtrack is also part of the plot, but Phantom of the Opera does also have segments of non-diegetic music: the Phantom probably does not have an entire orchestra and some guy with an electric guitar hiding down in his sewer just waiting for someone to break into song, but both of those show up in the songs they sing down there.

now, on to how I apply this to bdsm in fiction.

if I'm referring to diegetic bdsm what I mean is that the bdsm is acknowledged for what it is in-world. the characters themselves are roleplaying whatever scenarios their scenes involve and are operating with knowledge of real life rules/safety practices. if there's cnc depicted, it will be apparent at some point, usually right away, that both characters actually are fully consenting and it's all just a planned scene, and you'll often see on-screen negotiation and aftercare, and elements of the story may involve the kink community wherever the characters are. Love and Leashes is a great example of this, 50 Shades and Bonding are terrible examples of this, but they all feature characters that know they're doing bdsm and are intentional about it.

if I'm talking about non-diegetic bdsm, I'm referring to a story that portrays certain kinks without the direct acknowledgement that the characters are doing bdsm. this would be something like Captive Prince, or Phantom of the Opera again, or the vast majority of bodice ripper type stories where an innocent woman is kidnapped by a pirate king or something and totally doesn't want to be ravished but then it turns out he's so cool and sexy and good at ravishing that she decides she's into it and becomes his pirate consort or whatever it is that happens at the end of those books. the characters don't know they're playing out a cnc or D/s fantasy, and in-universe it's often straight up noncon or dubcon rather than cnc at all. the thing about entirely non-diegetic bdsm is that it's almost always Problematic™ in some way if you're not willing to meet the story where it's at, but as long as you're not judging it by the standards of diegetic bdsm, it's just providing the reader the same thing that a partner in a scene would: the illusion of whatever risk or taboo floats your boat, sometimes to extremes that can't be replicated in real life due to safety, practicality, physics, the law, vampires not being real, etc. it's consensual by default because it's already pretend; the characters are vehicles for the story and not actually people who can be hurt, and the reader chose to pick up the book and is aware that nothing in it is real, so it's all good.

this difference is where people tend to get hung up in the discourse, from what I've observed. which is why I started using this phrasing, because I think it's very crucial to be able to differentiate which one you're talking about if you try to have a conversation with someone about the portrayal of bdsm in media. it would also, frankly, be useful for tagging, because sometimes when you're in the mood for non-diegetic bodice ripper shit you'd call the police over in real life, it can get really annoying to read paragraphs of negotiation and check-ins that break the illusion of the scene and so on, and the opposite can be jarring too.

it's very possible to blur these together the same way Phantom of the Opera blurs its diegetic and non-diegetic music as well. this leaves you even more open to being misunderstood by people reading in bad faith, but it can also be really fun to play with. @not-poignant writes fantastic fanfic, novels, and original serials on ao3 that pull this off really well, if you're okay with some dark shit in your fiction I would highly recommend their work. some of it does get really fucking dark in places though, just like. be advised. read the tags and all that.

but yeah, spontaneous writer plug aside, that's what I mean.

[chososrightnipple]

❝𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 + 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨)❞

a/n: almost four hundred followers omg.. i love all you freaks mwah!! here is part two as promised. included some requests for characters. aged up! megumi and yuji of course. might do a part three maybeeee? afab body w/no gendered language as usual.

part one.

── დ ──

. *. ⋆ TOJI FUSHIGURO

▸ panty stealing. he thinks of it as memorabilia. snatching your panties from the floor before you have the chance to put them back on- just something he keeps to remember you bye.

▸ daddy kink. we all saw this coming, right? you call him daddy once and it's all he needs to fuck you into the bed for the rest of the night.

▸ thigh riding. seeing you frotting against his large thigh, desperate to cum, pussy practically drooling for it... his favorite foreplay 100%.

▸ cum play. this man will cum anywhere and everywhere and he'll love it. let him cum on your face, your ass, your chest, your back, down your throat, etc etc.

▸ hatefucking. angry sex after an argument where he takes out all of the stress you caused him on your poor holes :(

▸ breeding. you can give him another baby, can't you? you can make him a daddy all over again, right? just let him cum inside of you as much as he wants, he'll make it happen, he swears.

▸ exhibitionism. you grind against him once on the bar floor and next thing you know he's dragging out to the empty alleyway and pressing you against the nearest wall.

▸ size difference. he's so large, so big, every single part of him practically overtaking you. and he gets off on that fact so fucking hard!!

. *. ⋆ NANAMI KENTO

▸ cockwarming. seating himself inside your warm pussy while he's stuck doing all kinds of boring paperwork. he'll fuck you, he swears, you just gotta sit pretty on his lap for a little bit, okay?

▸face fucking. he loves taking out all of his stress on you. gripping your hair as he uses your mouth mercilessly, bullying his cock down the back of your tight throat.

▸blindfolding. silk ribbons in a variety of colors that he matches to the underwear you're modeling for him. only the best for his lover <3

▸ thigh riding. there's no better way to put him in the mood than pathetically grinding yourself against his thigh, using his body selfishly for your own pleasure.

▸ hair pulling. y'all know that one scene... he pulls at your hair exactly like that. fingers going white with how tight he's tugging at you, manipulating your position until you're face to face with his scowl.

▸ spanking. makes you count for every slap and if you miscount, he's starting all over again. pay better attention to him next time, yeah?

▸ semi-public. yes, he will bend you right over his desk, no he doesn't care there's a meeting going on next door. or better yet, against the window of the fourth floor, overlooking the busy street below it.

▸ phone sex. it really isn't any problem that he's across the country on a mission. even just the sound of your whines over the phone is enough to get him off.

. *. ⋆ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

▸ panty stealing. he would say he feels bad about it, but he doesn't. you looked so good in the lacey little things, he can't help but want to keep them for later. even has his own little drawer for them.

▸ masochism. the stinging pain of your nails running down his back is utterly euphoric. and don't get him started on how harshly you tug at his hair when he's eating you out- he can cum in his boxers just from that alone.

▸ breast play. massaging at the skin, feeling the plumpness under his fingertips. sucking at your nipples and leaving a trail of kisses down the valley of your breasts. he's obsessed.

▸ edging. leaving you just on the brink of release over and over again, until tears are streaming down your face. he'll let you cum eventually, you just look so pretty this worked up for him.

▸ marking. oh my goddd do not get megumi started on this. he doesn't know why it gets him so worked up- seeing you covered in the hickeys and bite marks that he's left on you- but it does.

▸ cunnilingus. eats you out like a man starved, like he'll never eat you out again. pulling him away from your poor pussy is next to impossible if he's not yet done with his meal.

▸ mutual masturbation. sometimes you both just need to relaxation of release and nothing more. sitting across from each other on the bed, or maybe side by side, listening to the moans of the other as you both touch yourselves.

▸ dacryphilia. like adoptive father like adopted son. seeing your eyes brim with tears from how good he's fucking you drives him crazy.

. *. ⋆ YUJI ITADORI

▸ ass play. we all know he's an ass man i mean come on?! doggy style is his favorite position just because of it. seeing how the fat of your ass moves with every slap of his hips is fucking addicting.

▸ praise kink. tell him how good he's fucking you and how much of a good boy he is pleaseeee!!!!

▸ toys. he didn't realize how much he would love bringing toys into the bedroom until he sees how hard you can cum around him while he holds a vibrator to your clit.

▸ raw sex. he knows it's stupid, fucking you with no protection. you're pussy just feels so good, so warm, he needs to fuck you raw.

▸ face riding. please sit on his face, suffocate him, he doesn't care. it's his favorite position to eat you out.

▸ overstimulation. poor baby doesn't even mean to overstimulate you half of the time- he just has so much stamina, you understand that, right? and seeing you so flushed and fucked out under him has him so horny. just one more round, yeah? you can do that for him, right?

▸ dirty talk. yuji is a yapper and that doesn't stop when he's fucking you. the filth that comes out of his mouth has you wet just thinking about it.

▸ dry humping. the tension, the intimacy, the panting, the friction?? all of it, it's like a drug to him.

[sheisoverhere]

Peeta Mellark is an integral member of the four D12 victors. He is literally the sunset on the reaping! How is this not clear? I’ve never wanted to report people for bad literary analysis more and I’m only half joking. It has forced me to commit a cardinal sin: analyze in anger!

1. Him being chosen by absolute accident is the point. Not only does he represent every single other tribute who simply gets chosen because they live in a messed up country but he represents how even with some odds being in your favor (older siblings, merchant family, being white, being popular, etc.) you are still very likely to be victimized by the oppressive structure of Panem.

2. When Haymitch says, “But she was smarter than me, or luckier” - the luck is all the people around Katniss who created the circumstances for her to lead a successful revolution (her father teaching her to hunt, the arena having woods, Rue healing her with leaves, Thresh not killing her, Haymitch consistently giving her support, her mother teaching her aspects of medicine, on and on and on) and Peeta is the number one, most important part of her luck in the first book. She has someone in the games actively putting her life before his… are you kidding? There is legitimately no better luck than that.

3. Even if we take Katniss out of it, Peeta is so impactful as a victor because most of his scenes would not be cut/doctored. What’s there to edit out? Instead, the viewers get a full view of him loving a girl so selflessly, using trickery and strategy instead of violence, keeping himself alive through art, joking on literal death’s door, and sharing so much of himself with the audience it becomes harder for them not to see him as a real human boy. How rare do you think that is for the games? Haymitch and LGB are caricatures of themselves in the games, playing roles that flatten them down. Even Katniss becomes one dimensional on screen without Peeta (and Rue, of course). It is also heavily implied that he does not kill anyone during the games (in a straightforward way) and even if you count Cato or the girl from 8 or even foxface, it’s never him hunting them or seeking out a kill - again how rare do you think that is to see on screen for Games viewers?

4. I didn’t think this needed to be said but: Katniss dies without Peeta in the first games. a) she goes for the bow and dies in the bloodbath; b) she is hunted and killed by Careers; c) she is killed by game makers because there’s no love story angle to keep them from just burning her entirely; d) she dies from tracker jacker stings or Cato because Peeta doesn’t defend her or tell her to run… I could go on…

5. But even if she does win and wins alone - the victory means as much (I would argue less than) any other rebellious victor winning, certainly less than Haymitch’s win. The biggest rebellion for their games is that two of them win! This is legit the only thing that distinguishes them from any other sympathetic, kind child who would have won the games. Like if Haymitch or Finnick or Wiress winning isn’t jarring enough for the Games to end… why do you think Katniss killing Peeta and winning solo would be? It would not.

6. And finally, I cannot stress this enough: There is no peaceful end to the rebellion or the trilogy without Peeta. “Peeta’s a whiz with fires” (HG) for a reason! Collins, over and over, shows us how fire can get out of control and destroy even those who are innocent and who you love (Gale, Beete, Peeta’s family, Haymitch’s family). If everyone really burns, there’s no one to clean the ashes. The reason not everyone burns is because of people like Peeta who can coax the flames in a way that is nurturing and consistent. I mean…. “Peeta fashioned some kind of incubator” is such an obvious detail. Those goslings don’t hatch without Peeta, life does not go on in peace and joy without Peeta.

It is no coincidence that when Maysilee says Lenore Dove got the “jump on us all” (in being a rebel), she is referring to LD using orange paint to make protest art!

We must stop pushing Peeta Mellark out of the narrative! He is literally the sunset on the reaping!

[aliyahwritings]

ARE YOU JEALOUS?

Summary: Sassy!Kook!Reader gets jealous when she sees Rafe Cameron close with another girl...

Content: neck sucking (?), childhood friends to lovers, kind of mean!rafe in one scene, bullying lol, suggestive towards the end but just a tiny bit.

Words Count: 5.5k ... i don't know what the fuck happened...

Aliyah's talking: IDK if i fw this or not but i hope yall will lolz <3 Thank you so much for the love on Protective Instincts btw!!!! I am so grateful and surprised that many of you all enjoyed it. Hope u'll enjoy this one too 🩷

Sunlight streamed into Sarah’s room, casting a soft, golden glow over the space as you lounged on her bed, idly flipping through a magazine. You both were sprawled across the plush, yellow covers, surrounded by half-empty bags of chips and scattered makeup palettes—evidence of an afternoon well spent. Sarah was perched by the vanity, trying on different lip glosses, all of which looked beautiful on her, but she insisted on which one was the best.

“So, tell me again,” she started, holding up a tube of shimmery pink gloss and squinting at it thoughtfully. “Why don’t you go for Jake? I mean, he’s cute, he’s smart—”

“And boring. He is boring,” you interjected, rolling your eyes with a laugh. “Come on, Sarah, you know how I am. I need someone with a little more… edge…? Someone that could handle me but also play the game, you know?”

Sarah smirked, setting the lip gloss down and turning to face you. “Edge… Handling your attitude… I’m afraid that weirdly sounds like someone we both know.”

“You think you’re so funny, huh?” you said, shooting her a mock glare.

She laughed, completely unbothered. "What? I’m just stating the facts!" She shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "As much as I hate to admit it, my brother definitely fits both criteria, so…”

You were listening to her but stopped when your phone buzzed. Out of habit, you unlocked it and opened the notification from Instagram; Topper posted a new story and you watched it. The screen was filled with a shaky video of the beach, the late afternoon sun casting golden light over everything. You recognized some people, but your attention zeroed in on Rafe, right in the center of it all. He was grinning, his arm slung around a girl who was laughing and pulling him closer, like they were the only two people on the beach. 

You felt a quick, unwelcome pang in your chest.

“Hey, what’s got you so interested?” Sarah’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you glanced back at her, masking any hint of emotion with a casual smirk.

You locked the screen and tossed the phone aside. “Nothing. Just Topper’s beach parties and Instagram stories.”

She gave you a skeptical look, folding her arms. “Don’t lie to me. I know you better than yourself, what did you see in that story, Y/N?”

You hesitated, but then shrugged, trying to play it off. “Rafe was at the party with some girl. A new girl. It’s not a big deal.”

“Ah, I see,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “You know he’s always messing around with someone new. But… I thought you didn’t care about what he was up to.”

“I don’t,” you said, a bit too quickly, crossing your arms. “He can do whatever the hell he wants.”

“Right. So, you don’t care at all?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “Look, I just don’t get what’s so special about him that girls keep falling over themselves to be around him. That’s all.”

She nodded with a giggle. “Yeah, no, I definitely—”

“And doesn’t it bother anyone that he’s got a new girl every week? I mean, if I were one of those girls who actually liked him, I’d be furious. Wouldn’t you, Sar?” You barely paused before continuing, not even waiting for her answer. “It’s honestly just sad because Rafe really isn’t even all that. Sure, he can be fun and nice sometimes, but he’s also a huge asshole with a big fucking ego. Is it just me, or is everyone blind to that?”

Sarah was quiet for a moment, studying you with a thoughtful expression before she finally spoke up. “You know what? I think we could both use a break from overthinking anything about the opposite sex. How about we get out of here and grab some smoothies? I heard there’s a new spot by the marina.”

You nodded, grateful that she didn’t talk about your little moment. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Sarah grabbed her bag, giving you one last teasing smile. “Smoothies and maybe some retail therapy afterward?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you replied, letting the idea of a carefree afternoon replace the lingering thoughts of Rafe. Whatever he was up to, it was his business. You weren’t about to let it ruin your day.

The soft hum of the fridge and the rhythmic clinking of silverware filled the kitchen as you, Sarah, and Rafe gathered around the island, your weekly routine as ingrained as the family photos lining the walls. The night was settling in, casting a cozy stillness over the room. You were only half-listening as Sarah rambled on about her weekend plans, your attention instead focused on pushing pasta around on your plate, not particularly hungry.

Rafe sat across the counter, leaning back in his chair with an ease that always seemed to irritate you. He had been quiet, too but you knew he wouldn’t last long. Sure enough, he broke the silence.

“Alright,” he began, raising an eyebrow at you, “what’s up with you tonight? You’re awfully quiet.”

You didn’t look up, keeping your tone purposefully casual. “Nothing’s up,” you replied, hoping he’d let it go. But you knew better.

“Come on,” he pressed, tilting his head in that infuriatingly smug way. “Where’s that feisty attitude you always have? Usually, by now, you’d have already made at least five smartass comments about my shirt or something.”

You let out a short, unimpressed laugh, finally meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Maybe I just ran out of things to say about you, Rafael. Ever think of that?”

He grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Nah. You’ve got an endless supply of attitude, Y/N. I’d be shocked if you were ever actually out of material.” He took a sip from his glass, watching you over the rim with that familiar, infuriating smirk.

Sarah shot you a look, her mouth twisted in a tired smile as she mouthed, here we go. She had seen this routine a thousand times before.

“You really think I spend that much time thinking about you?” you fired back, folding your arms over your chest and fixing him with an unimpressed stare.

“Oh, I don’t think,” he replied smoothly, leaning in a little closer, “I know. Admit it. I’m in your head, aren’t I?”

You let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning back in your chair as you tossed him an indifferent look. “Right. You’re the center of my world, Rafe. Can’t you tell?”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “You know, when you’re this quiet, it’s like a fucking flashing neon sign saying, ‘Something’s up’. Might as well tell me now.”

You rolled your eyes. You knew that engaging with him like this was a slippery slope—once you started, he never let up. But for some reason, tonight, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Honestly, I don’t have the energy for your little mind games tonight,” you said, trying to sound as bored as possible. “So, if you’re expecting me to entertain you, you’re gonna be disappointed.”

“Oh, come on. I don’t believe that for a second,” he shot back, leaning back casually in his chair as if he had all the time in the world to wear you down. “You love this. Sparring with me? It’s basically your favorite hobby.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Didn’t realize my silence was such a tragedy for you.”

“Oh, it is. I mean, where else am I supposed to get my daily dose of attitude?” He leaned back, feigning a pout. “Come on, you’re no fun like this. Did something happen?”

You rolled your eyes, twirling your fork in the pasta as if it held your entire focus. “Why would you care? I’m sure you have more important things to worry about. Maybe more girl—”

Sarah let out a sigh, interrupting before Rafe could respond. “Honestly, do you two ever get tired of this? We’re supposed to be having dinner, and it feels like I’m watching some sort of weird rom-com.”

You shot Sarah an exasperated look. “There’s nothing romantic about this, Sar. It’s called surviving.”

“Right,” Sarah said, clearly unconvinced. “But could you maybe survive without the constant bickering? Just once?”

Rafe smirked, clearly unfazed by Sarah’s comment as he turned back to you. “I don’t know. I think she secretly enjoys it. You should see how she lights up when she gets going.”

“Fuck off,” you muttered, taking a long sip from your glass and hoping it would mask the heat you could feel rising in your cheeks.

He watched you with an amused glint in his eye, clearly picking up on your discomfort. “A little defensive, aren’t we? I mean, I’m just stating the obvious here. You’ve been on edge all night. Care to share with the class what’s really bothering you?”

You set your glass down with a little more force than necessary, fixing him with a glare. “You really think everything’s about you, don’t you?”

“Not everything,” he replied, shrugging casually. “Just the things that involve you. Because, for some reason, every time you’re in a mood, it usually has something to do with me.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but then closed it again, unsure of how to respond without giving anything away. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hit a nerve, even if he had.

“What’s the matter, princess?” he continued, pushing his plate aside as he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving yours. “Did something happen between you and Jake, huh? I thought you two were casually talk—”

You groaned, frustrated that he’d brought Jake into it. “There’s nothing to say about Jake. I’m just tired, okay? Not everything has to be about some guy.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Rafe replied, his tone laced with a hint of smugness. “But I’d say you’re a little more…on edge than usual. So, it has to be about that guy, right…”

“Jake’s got nothing to do with this,” you said, your tone steady. “Unlike you, he actually knows how to mind his own business.”

Well, you’re just lying because you’ve never taken the time to actually learn about Jake and what type of person he was. As bitchy as it sounded, you were using him as a distraction.

You stared at him, hoping your silence would be enough to make him drop it. But, of course, he didn’t.

Rafe crossed his arms as he studied you, his gaze never wavering. “So, you’re saying you prefer a guy who lets you get away with whatever you want, then?”

You scoffed. “No, Rafe. I am saying I prefer a guy who doesn’t feel the need to stick his nose into everything I do. You know, a guy who’s secure enough to let me be without constantly needing to provoke me.”

“Yeah, I see,” he replied, nodding softly. “So, basically, you’re looking for someone boring. Someone who doesn’t challenge you, who just lets you coast by. Am I right?”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “You think you know me so well, don’t you? Don’t flatter yourself, Cameron. I can find someone else to annoy me if I really wanted to.”

Rafe’s eyes darkened, but that infuriating smirk stayed in place, like he thrived on every bit of tension between you. He cocked an eyebrow, leaning forward, his voice a low, taunting whisper. “Oh yeah? Who, exactly? Jake? He’s perfect for you—goody-two-shoes, never steps out of the fucking line. Because, let’s be honest, you’d crush him. He’d never call you out, never push you.” He paused, and there was a bitterness beneath his words, hidden but unmistakable. “He’d be safe.”

A bitter smile twisted your lips, the pain creeping into your voice despite your best efforts. “At least Jake knows how to be respectful. He wouldn’t stoop to tearing me down just to get a rise. He wouldn’t need to.”

Rafe scoffed, his amusement tinged with a hint of anger. “Respectful? Fuck that. You want someone to play nice and tell you what you want to hear, go right ahead. But I think we both know that’s not what you really want.” He took a step closer, his gaze fierce, challenging. “You think I’m the bad guy because I’m not afraid to tell you the truth. I don’t play pretend. I’m not here to tell you sweet lies—I’d rather see who you really are, even if that means pissing you off.”

You narrowed your eyes, fury blazing in your chest. He was looking right at you, like he could see through every layer you tried so hard to put up. But there was something deeper in his gaze, a flicker of something that made your heart race even as anger burned within you. And you hated that he could do that—make you feel so exposed, so raw, yet so alive all at once.

But to him, this was just another game. He thrived on your frustration, on the way he could get under your skin with just a few well-placed words. It was a twisted power play, a battle neither of you were willing to lose. And for a moment, the air between you was charged, almost electrifying, the tension so thick it was nearly suffocating. 

You wanted to hate him, but a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he was right—if he really did see through to the parts of you that no one else dared to touch.

But that only made you angrier, and you felt a surge of resentment rise within you, pushing you over the edge. With a sudden flash of fury, you slammed your fists onto the table, the sound echoing through the room, your voice sharp and cutting. “You know what? Fuck you, Rafe Cameron.”

Without another word, you turned and stormed out.

The sound reverberated through the Cameron household, leaving a heavy silence. Rafe stood there, fists clenched, trying to swallow down the mix of anger and something else—something that felt dangerously close to longing.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at her brother. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

Rafe shot her a look, irritation simmering just beneath the surface. “You don’t get it, Sarah. She’s… She’s infuriating.”

But then he hesitated, his gaze drifting toward the door you had just stormed out of. The edge of his lips twitched in a way that was all too vulnerable, too honest. “But there’s something about her,” he admitted, his voice softening. “She’s fierce and passionate. When she’s angry, it’s like she’s alive in a way I can’t help but be drawn to. It’s frustrating, but… but she’s not afraid to challenge me, to call me out.” He paused, searching for the right words, his heart racing.

“And so that makes it right for you to annoy her to that point?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t help it. I want her to see the real me, too. It’s like I can’t breathe when she’s around and then—when she leaves? It’s like the air just… disappears.” He ran a hand through his hair, a mix of confusion and desire etched across his features. “She challenges me in ways I never expected, and it drives me insane, but I can’t help but want more of her.”

“Wow,” Sarah said softly, her voice full of surprise. “I didn’t think I’d see the day Rafe Cameron talked about someone like this—but mess around with her like that one more time, and I’ll hurt you.”

The sun spilled into your bedroom, casting a warm glow that felt inviting. But you stirred, still brimming with the tumult of emotions from last night. Rafe’s words echoed in your mind—his teasing, the way he pushed your buttons, and the way your heart raced despite your annoyance. You groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket over your head, hoping to drown out the memories.

But then laughter broke through the haze of your thoughts. It was bright and carefree, drifting in through the open window. Intrigued, you tossed off the blanket and slid out of bed, your curiosity piqued. A quick glance outside revealed the source of the joyful sounds: Sarah, Wheezie, and Rafe were out by the pool, splashing water and playfully throwing each other around.

Rafe, wearing nothing but swim trunks that hung low on his hips, was the centerpiece of the scene, effortlessly drawing your gaze. His tanned skin glimmered, accentuating the muscles that rippled as he dove and surfaced in the water, laughter spilling from his lips, infectious and buoyant.

You caught yourself ogling him, eyes roaming over the way the water dripped from his hair, the way his body moved with ease and confidence. It wasn’t fair, really—how could someone be so effortlessly captivating? The sun caught the edges of his grin as he tossed Wheezie playfully into the pool, the sound of her laughter ringing out like music.

You were lost in the moment, so caught up in the heat of his gaze that you didn’t even notice the way your thighs clenched together, craving the contact that felt just out of reach. All you could think about was the overwhelming desire to touch him—everywhere. You imagined your hands gliding over his toned chest, feeling the hard flex of his biceps beneath your fingertips, tracing the lines of his powerful arms as they wrapped around your body, waist, and ass pulling you closer.

You wanted him. God, did you want him.

Why did he have this effect on you? Why was he constantly invading your thoughts, even now?

A sudden buzz from your phone pulled you from your reverie. You grabbed it from the bedside table and saw a message from Sarah: “Get your ass out here! We’re in the pool, it’s fun! You’ll want to join us!”

A smile tugged at your lips at Sarah's enthusiasm, but a moment of hesitation passed as you remembered the tension of last night. Still, you didn’t want to be the odd one out. With a determined sigh, you pulled yourself away from the window and began to get ready.

You rummaged through your drawers, searching for that one bikini that made you look stunning and earned you a handful of compliments every time you wore it. Finally, you found it: a deep emerald green that contrasted perfectly against your skin tone. It was cut high, accentuating your legs, the top was daring, showing just enough to leave to the imagination. You paired it with a pair of denim shorts.

You headed towards the back door, nerves swirling in your stomach. As you stepped outside, the head of the sun hit you like a wave, and the sounds of laughter grew louder.

“You’re awake!” Sarah exclaimed, her voice bright and cheerful. “I thought we’d have to drag you out here!”

You laughed lightly, feeling a playful energy surge within you. “I’m here, aren’t I?” You shot back, trying to keep your tone light as you made your way toward the pool.

Wheezie exclaimed, eyes wide of admiration. “Wow, Y/N! Look at you!”

“Thanks!” you replied, trying to play it cool but secretly loving the attention. You glanced at Rafe, who had turned to face you, and your heart raced at the sight of him leaning against the pool’s edge, water cascading down his toned body.

His gaze lingered on you, a mix of surprise and appreciation playing across his features. “Well, well, if it isn’t the queen herself,” he teased, that infuriating smirk stretching across his face. “Nice of you to join us.”

You rolled your eyes and turned your back to him, feigning indifference as you busied yourself with anything but him. The events of last night were still fresh in your mind, a heated clash that left you reeling and more than a little irritated. You were determined not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Oh, so I get the silent treatment?” he drawled, his voice dripping with playful disbelief. “I’m devastated,” he added, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly irresistible smirk that always made your heart flutter.

Instead, you focused on Sarah and Wheezie, who were gleefully splashing water at each other. You couldn’t help but feel the pull of their energy. 

Hours rolled by and you settled onto a lounge chair, you could feel Rafe’s eyes on you, the heat of his gaze igniting your skin in a way that both thrilled and annoyed you. He was still in the pool, looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive. You didn’t know but you were driving him crazy with that attitude of yours, this whole ignoring thing and your fucking bikini. 

Sarah and Wheezie went inside the house to prepare some snacks and drinks for us because we were getting hungry and thirsty, leaving only Rafe and you. 

You pulled your phone, pretending to scroll through social media, anything to distract yourself from the way your heart raced at his presence. A notification lit up your phone, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Jake’s name flash across the screen. The excitement surged through you as you opened the message:

"Hey, gorgeous. I really like you, and I’d love to take you out sometime. You in?"

He was cute—way too cute.

A grin crept onto your lips, and for once, you allowed yourself to enjoy the attention from someone who wasn’t toying with your emotions. Someone who actually seemed genuine. No games, no mixed signals. Just interest. The kind that felt refreshing after dealing with someone who never seemed to know what he wanted.

You barely had time to revel in it before Rafe’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and demanding. “What’s got you smiling like that?”

Your grip tightened on your phone instinctively, and you flicked your gaze up to him, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, nothing. Just a friend,” you said, slipping your phone screen down against your thigh.

Rafe wasn’t buying it. His eyes narrowed, skepticism written all over his face. “Just a friend, huh?” His voice had that dangerous edge to it, the one you knew too well. “Funny, you don’t usually smile like that over friends.”

You felt his eyes burning into you, but you refused to give him the satisfaction. “Really? Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” you teased, biting back the smirk threatening to break free.

Rafe’s jaw clenched. “Who was it?”

“Like I said, just a friend,” you repeated, your voice smooth, but now you were teasing on purpose. You could feel his irritation rising, and part of you enjoyed it. “What, are you jealous or something?”

He scoffed, though you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened. “Why the hell would I be jealous?” he snapped, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than you. “I’m just asking a question.”

“Uh-huh.” You raised an eyebrow, leaning back and tilting your head, watching him closely. “Right. Just a casual question, huh? Totally doesn’t sound like someone’s jealous.”

His hands were now resting on the edge of the pool, gripping it just a little too tightly. “I’m not jealous,” he repeated, but the way his gaze darted to your phone said otherwise. “But if it’s someone trying to get at you, then yeah, I wanna know. Who is it?”

“Someone,” you said vaguely, enjoying the fact that Rafe was teetering on the edge of losing it. “Someone who’s interested, clearly.”

Rafe’s eyes flared, and the jealousy in his voice became impossible to miss. “Interested in what? You?” His lips curled into a scowl, his muscles tense. “What, you think some random guy’s gonna—”

“Maybe,” you cut in, your smile growing. “Maybe he’s actually straightforward, you know? No mind games, no drama. Just a guy who knows what he wants.”

His brows shot up, the implication stinging. “And you think I don’t know what I want?”

You shrugged, not backing down an inch. “Well, you never seem to make it that clear. Maybe someone else is going to take your place as my—”

The possessiveness in his eyes flared. He pushed himself up out of the pool, water dripping from his shoulders as he moved closer, his presence looming over you. “No one’s stepping up, got it? No one’s taking my place.”

You met his gaze, unflinching, even as your heart raced a little faster. “Oh? And what exactly is your place, Rafe?”

He leaned in, the heat between you practically crackling. “You know damn well where my place is,” he murmured, his voice low, daring, yet with a hint of uncertainty creeping in. “And I’m not about to let some bitch ass slide in because you think I don’t care.”

You smiled, tilting your head, savoring the tension. “Seems like you do care. Maybe more than you want to admit.”

“Because I do care, Y/N,” he murmured softly, swiping his wet thumb across your cheek. “I told you already that I cared way too damn much.”

Rafe’s thumb lingered on your cheek, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through your body despite the heat of the day. His eyes held yours, dark and intense, as if he were trying to convey all the words he couldn’t quite say aloud. The air between you was thick, charged with a tension that had been building for far too long.

You swallowed hard, trying to hold onto some semblance of control, but it was a losing battle. “Your way of showing it is fucked, Rafe.”

Your words were meant to cut, but they came out softer than you intended, almost like a challenge. His jaw tightened, but instead of snapping back with some cocky retort, he stepped even closer. The scent of chlorine and his skin invaded your senses, and you couldn’t help but notice how his muscles tensed as he towered over you, dripping with water, his presence commanding.

“I care,” he repeated, his voice lower now, almost a growl. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back to your eyes, like he was making a decision in real time. “I care more than you know.”

Before you could muster a reply, his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer, your breath hitching as his lips hovered near your ear. “I think you know exactly what my place is,” he murmured, his voice rough with unspoken desire. “And you’re not running from it.”

His breath was hot against your skin, sending a wave of heat cascading down your spine. He didn’t move right away, as if savoring the tension that crackled between you, the nearness, the inevitability of it all. Your heart pounded in your chest, your pulse quickening as his lips brushed, ever so lightly, against the sensitive spot just below your ear.

You gasped, your hands instinctively gripping the fabric of your shorts as your body reacted to him, heat pooling low in your belly. “Rafe…” you whispered, not quite a protest, but not quite giving in either.

But he wasn’t about to back down now. He shifted closer, his mouth grazing the curve of your neck, soft at first, then firmer, the scrape of his teeth making your pulse race. Your skin ignited under his touch, and a low moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

“You feel that?” he whispered, his lips trailing lower, his voice husky and thick with need. “That’s not some game. That’s real.”

Your body arched toward him of its own accord, your resistance melting as his hands slid down to your waist, fingers pressing firmly into your skin, pulling you closer. You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck, his lips teasing, torturing, as they brushed along your collarbone. Every touch, every whisper was setting your nerves alight, and you were dizzy with the intensity of it.

“You’re such an ass,” you muttered, trying to keep a shred of control, but your voice lacked conviction.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Maybe,” he agreed, his lips brushing the spot just beneath your ear again, sending a fresh wave of shivers down your spine. “But you can’t stop thinking about me, can you?”

You hated how right he was. You hated how easily he could unravel you, how even now, you were leaning into his touch, craving more of it. But there was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of hearing it.

“Stop being so cocky,” you managed to whisper, though your voice wavered with the desire that coursed through you.

But Rafe wasn’t in the mood to stop. His hand slid to your lower back, pulling your body flush against his, the coolness of his skin mingling with your own heat. You could feel the hard lines of his body pressed against yours, his chest rising and falling as his lips grazed your shoulder, his teeth scraping lightly against your skin, just enough to make you shudder.

“Admit it,” he murmured against your neck, his voice a deep, rough command. “You want this.”

You closed your eyes, fighting to hold onto your last thread of self-control, but the tension between you was overwhelming, suffocating. His lips moved lower, placing slow, deliberate kisses along your collarbone, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Your breath came in ragged gasps as your body betrayed you, leaning into him, craving the heat of his touch, the weight of his gaze, the way he made you feel like the only person in the world.

“Rafe…” you breathed, your voice barely audible, as his hand slid down to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin possessively. You could feel his breath on your neck, his lips hovering just above the place where your pulse raced beneath the surface.

“I want you, Y/N,” he whispered against your skin, his voice raw, filled with the desire that had been simmering between you for what felt like forever. “And I’m not letting anyone else have you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could think better of it, your hands were in his hair, pulling him closer, your body aching for the contact you’d been denying yourself for so long.

Your lips collided with his in a heated rush, all the pent-up tension and desire finally unraveling between you. Rafe’s hands immediately gripped your hips, pulling you impossibly closer as he kissed you like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. His lips were demanding, rough and hungry, but there was a softness to the way he held you, like he wanted to savor every second. You melted into him, fingers tangling in his wet hair, feeling the slickness of the pool water on his skin as his body pressed against yours.

The taste of him, mixed with the faint tang of chlorine, was intoxicating. It was all-consuming, drowning out every rational thought. He kissed you like he was staking his claim, like he wanted to erase any trace of doubt from your mind, and for a moment, you let him. Your body responded instinctively, arching against his as his hands roamed down your back, gripping you tighter.

When you finally broke apart, both of you gasping for air, Rafe’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper—something more vulnerable. His chest heaved as he looked at you, his breath coming in ragged bursts. “I like you, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I like you so much it drives me crazy. No more pretending.”

You stared into his eyes, searching for any hint of the cocky facade he usually wore, but it was gone. This was Rafe stripped bare, no teasing, no arrogance—just raw honesty. It made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with the kiss.

Your breath caught in your throat as you considered what he was saying. Could you trust him? Could you really let your guard down and give in to this, knowing how easily he could hurt you?

But before you could overthink it, he kissed you again, slower this time, more deliberate. His lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache, and all your doubts melted away. At that moment, it didn’t matter what had happened before, or what might happen after. All that mattered was how he made you feel right now—wanted, desired, seen.

Rafe pulled back, his thumb brushing gently against your bottom lip, his eyes flicking between yours. “Tell me you feel it too,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost pleading. “Tell me I’m not the only one. Tell me, princess.”

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. There was no point in pretending anymore. “You’re not,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “You drive me crazy, Rafe, too—I don’t want to feel this way, but I do.”

His lips curved into a small, triumphant smile, but there was relief in his eyes too, like he’d been holding his breath, waiting for you to say it. “Good,” he murmured, his hand cupping your face as his thumb stroked your cheek. “Because I don’t think I can let you go.”

[metyouinthehallway]

𝐋𝐚𝐩 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Stripper!Reader gives Bartender!Chris a lap dance.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Sitting on the tufted barstool, you continuously swirl your cocktail. Watching as it tunnels in the glass, Chris pulls you out of your trance when he speaks.

“Looks like a lot more thinkin’ than drinkin’.” He pulls his mouth into a tight lipped smile, raising his brows at you.

The strip club was now vacant, other than the two of you and a few other girls cleaning up around the place. The rich purple and red hues casting a warm glow over you and Chris.

“Yeah, tonight wasn’t very good— money wise.” You exhale, letting the whirlpool of alcohol slowly come to a stop. Chris pours himself a glass of club soda, walking around to the other side of the bar and sitting next to you. “Club soda?” You question his drink choice.

“Mhm, I don’t drink.” He hums, nodding his head. Oh, the irony. A bartender who doesn’t indulge in the magic party juice. “Shit fucks you up. No offense to you, just… not my thing.” Chris explains himself, looking at you to ensure you didn’t take his comment as an insult.

You don’t. Actually, you understand why some people choose not to go out of their way to drink. But you? You’re a partier. Drinking, smoking, loud & obnoxious music. That’s your scene.

“None taken.” You sip the awkward tension that floats in the air away, biting the lemon wedge that hangs from the rim of your glass.

“Wasn’t that good of a night f’me either.” He looks around at the club. It was barely a mess, as if everyone disappeared. Not even a dozen men came in tonight and all of the dancers, including you, made just over one hundred dollars.

“So what? Should I make it a better night?” You ask him, a slight smirk pulling at your lips. Chris glares at you, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he does so.

“And how would you do that?” He leans his elbows against the bar top, turning to face you completely now. Sipping on your fruity drink, you communicate with your eyes.

“C’mon…” you stand, holding your hand out for him. He reluctantly takes it. Letting you lead him to one of the private rooms. You don’t notice it, but Chris is nearly sweating bullets. This was against all the club rules. He can’t help but eye you up and down, your skirt squeezing your curves, ass cheeks hanging out of the bottom of it. Your backless top showing off your shoulder blades.

“Sit.” You let go of his hand, gesturing to the suede couch in the dimly lit room. He nods, following your directions. His usual ‘tough’ persona faltering when he looks up at you.

A sultry beat starts to play throughout the speakers, you lean down, meeting his eyes. “You scared, bartender?” You smile. A genuine smile, not a fake performance smile. Chris feels a slight heat rise to his cheeks, a nervous lump forming in his throat. A completely unrelated bulge forming down south too.

“Little bit… but don’t worry ‘bout me. Do your thing pretty lady.” It’s barely a mutter. Is he allowed to touch you? Can he bare to look at you? Is this crossing a line? It certainly had to be.

“Well, you just tell me if you wanna stop, hm?” You reply with a hum, straddling his lap. You lower yourself just enough so he can feel your body heat but not completely sat on his lap, Chris’s eyes following your movements.

You run your own hands down your ribcage and down to your thighs, then back up. You can hear Chris let out a very subtle yet very frustrated groan. It’s clear he’s not sure what to do with his hands.

“You can touch me…” you lean in, your breath just barely grazing his earlobe. Chris lets out a sigh, his hands instinctually reaching for your hips. “You know, I don’t let anyone else touch me when I’m doing this.” Your voice is low, seductive even. Completely lowering yourself onto his lap, you roll your hips into his. Feeling just how much he’s absolutely loving this.

“R-really?” He tries to play it cool but there’s no hiding the fact that he’s completely and utterly in awe of you on top of him.

“Mhm… they don’t deserve to touch me.” His fingers dig deeper into your hipbones. A low grunt slipping past his lips. “You do though. Always so nice to me, hm?” You tease, running your hands up his chest and up to grip his shoulders.

“Just common courtesy. Respect, y’know?” His heart is pounding. You could practically see the cartoonish imprint of it beating in his chest.

“Really? This…” you grind against his hard length, your skirt riding higher up your thighs with each moment. “This doesn’t seem like respect.” Trailing your manicured nails to the nape of his neck, you run your fingers through his hair which causes him to buck his hips into yours.

You quite enjoy this actually. Not that you were dominant in bed- you were the complete opposite when you were off the clock. But being on the clock, getting paid to make men all flustered and nervous beneath you. It sends a jolt of electricity through your body each time.

“Eager, are we?” You breathe out, raising your self so you’re no longer sitting on his erection. Chris runs his hands up your body, his eyes burning holes into your chest which is only covered by a satin top that doesn’t leave much to the imagination as it’s all on show.

“Very,” Chris huffs, the room suddenly feeling much smaller than it did before. With you sat on his lap, he never realized just how much he needed you. And oh, did he need you.

“Why don’t you do somethin’ about it then?” You lean in, your lips hardly grazing his own and it’s the first time you’ve ever come in such intimate contact with him.

Chris hesitantly closes the distance between the two of you. It’s only a peck before he pulls away, gauging your reaction. You search his eyes, he’s doing the same to you, unspoken tension polluting the room.

Your lips curl into a smile before completely placing your weight on his lap and pulling him back in to your lips. Your hands rest on his t-shirt, his on the small of your back pulling you impossibly closer.

Other than the low hum of the music, the sound of lips smacking together and low groans bounce off the padded walls. Chris’s tongue glides over your bottom lip, his hand gripping your ass. “Are we really doing this?” He mutters against your lips. You can only hum in response, opening your mouth to allow him entry.

Chris wants to flip you over and take you right now on the small, ever uncomfortable conversation couch. But, this had already spiraled into a lewd scene for the workplace. He couldn’t do it. Not yet at least.

You regain your confidence, taking control, you lightly push him against the couch. Sucking and nibbling at his bottom lip to which Chris rolls your hips into his. The feeling of his jeans against his hard dick incredibly painful but oh, so pleasing.

You pull away, catching your breath. “Having a better night, bartender?” You ask as if nothing happened between the two of you just now.

“Much, much better. You?” Chris’s hands roam your body, resting back on your hips. You nod in response, getting up off of his lap. Your heels clicking against the tiled floor as you walk out of the room leaving Chris to wonder what the fuck had just taken place.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[myjklet]

"You had a bad day, and your boyfriend did his best to cheer you up."

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Genre: Established relationship

Warnings: Cigarettes, she burns him with the cig once, vaginal fingering, hair pulling(m!receiving), nipple sucking(f!receiving), riding, choking and face slapping(m!receiving), unprotected sex but they are clean and in birth control!!! He cums inside her. Cuddlesss :(

Wordcount: 2,7k

a/n: That's one of my favorite lives of him, and he cheered me up that day when i was feeling terrible, so why not?

You close the door of your apartment, take off your shoes and coat and leave them lying around, then go to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Your boyfriend is sitting on the sofa with his cell phone in his hand, following you with his eyes.

"Hey my love, you arrived late, I was already going to call you. How was your day?"

You sip your water and set the glass down on the counter, letting out a tired sigh. He turns off his cell phone, puts it on the coffee table, and then walks over to you.

"Want to talk about it?" he asks, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

"Nothing much happened... just a couple of coworkers who made the atmosphere in the company bad and delayed everyone's work, that's why I arrived much later than normal, also I didn't wake up in the best of moods this morning."

He gives you a worried look, and you give him a small smile.

"I'm fine, my dear, really. I'm just really tired, and my whole body aches. But I'm going to take a long cold shower and come back to you brand new."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, my love, I am"

"Then go take your bath, relax, I'll wait for you"

He's incredibly beautiful in your eyes right now. He's wearing a basic black shirt with sweatpants and wearing his prescription glasses, smelling like a freshly-taken bath. You gave him another smile and a kiss, then headed to the bathroom. You spend a significant amount of time in there, as you said you were going to take a long shower, you really needed it.

You do your skincare, put on a pair of boxer panties and a shirt, which happens to be Jungkook's, and when you get to the living room, you're confronted with a scene that warmed your heart. He turned off all the main lights, leaving only the lamp next to the sofa on, prepared some snacks and beer, and there's music playing on the TV. All this as a plan to take your mind off anything that wasn't him. And that worked perfectly.

"Oh hey darling, feeling better?" He looks at you opening a beer.

"Yes, thank you... what's all this?"

"You were tired, so I thought i could cheer you up. Here are the snacks you like, I've turned on the TV and... Is the lighting okay for you?" He stares at you in a child standing position, and you let out a hearty laugh.

"It's perfect, my love."

"Come over here," now sitting on the sofa, he taps the empty spot on the sofa next to him, "sit here with me."

You go over and pick up the other open beer on the coffee table and sit down next to him. "You didn't need to prepare all that stuff for me Ggukie"

"Of course I did, you've had a bad day, I can't stand seeing you like this. If I could I'd have all your bad days for you."

"You're so sweet"

He smiles and looks down, sniffing the mouth of the bottle. "Is the playlist good? Or do you want me to change it?"

The playlist that's playing on the TV was created by the two of you, with the name Nights together ♡ and it was made especially for moments like this, or for when the two of you couldn't sleep and ended up staying up all night chatting and making out until you got tired.

"No you don't have to, it's good"

"Hmmm... but what about your coworkers?"

"Oh, they're husband and wife, at least they used to be. The wife caught her husband with someone else, someone else who works with them, the other woman almost had her hair pulled out"

"A couple who work together in the same job? And the guy still does this, basically to his wife's face?"

You nod, taking a sip of your beer.

"The atmosphere there got awful, the wife started crying and everyone took her in, I just hid in my computer and carried on working, I am less late than the rest of the people, but still, I was supposed to finish everything today."

“You were smart” he puts his mouth on the bottle.

“I still came off as the heartless one, and I'm not even close to her, even I've been a cuckold and I didn't suffer like that” Jungkook laughs and holds back from spitting out the sip of beer he was about to swallow. “You can laugh. She was yelling... Why did he do that to me? I got him this job! How ungrateful!” You imitate the wife. “And everyone was smooching her, comforting her, I can't stand it. She treated him so badly every day, he couldn't do anything wrong and she'd yell at him, that he was worthless, that she didn't know what she was thinking when she married him.” You eat some of the snacks.

“Maybe that's why he cheated on her”

“That's what I thought, but as I said, I'm not close to her, he could be a scumbag at home.”

“I'd never cheat on you, you know?” You giggle shyly and look down at the bottle in your hand, ”I mean it.”

You look up again and find him staring at you with his eyes shining.

“I missed you today”

“Just today?”

“Every day” his smile appears.

“Do you want to watch a movie while we cuddle?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing”

“Do I choose or do you choose?”

And there you are, late at night, watching your second movie. You're lying on his bare chest, and he's stroking your hair, you're paying more attention to the sound of his heart beating than to the movie, which is pretty boring by the way, but you don't care as long as Jungkook is with you. The door to the balcony is half open, and the chill air from outside comes in softly and spreads through the room with the smoke coming from the ashtray on the coffee table. Jungkook takes the cigarette from his fingers to his mouth, and you look closely at his arm, the veins popping out, pale skin, waiting to be marked. He blows out the smoke.

“This movie is so predictable”

“Huh?”

“Everyone knows that when he walks in there the door will close behind him” he offers you the cigarette, and you accept it looking at the screen, ”I told you, they don't make good horror movies anymore, they're all copies of each other”

You blow the smoke out of your mouth and sniff it back in through your nose, looking at him while he still insists on watching the movie. His glasses disappeared along with his shirt when the first movie ended, his hair is slicked back, he's lightly biting the piercing in the corner of his mouth and you have a perfect view of his neck. You snap out of your trance when you feel the cigarette starting to burn your fingers, and you reach out to put it out in the ashtray, but now all you can think about is the hand he has placed on your waist to prevent you from falling off the sofa.

“The idiot still tries to talk to the entity. These characters are so easy to kill”

You kiss his sternum trying to get his attention, “what a bad movie, I don't think I know how to choose movies anymore”.

“You say it's bad, but you can't take your eyes off the screen”

He looks at you, “I'm sorry, baby, I wanted to see how far the bullshit would go”

“Why don't we do something more interesting?” he puts his arm behind his head, using it as a support to see you better.

“Something on your mind?”

You stretch again, but this time, to get a new cigarette straight from the box, you also pick up the heater and sit on the lap of the dark-haired man below you. You light the cigarette, take a drag, and blow it in his face, who closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes, you turn the tip of the cigarette in his direction, and he gets the message, leaning on his arms to sit on the sofa and get face to face with you.

You put the cigarette in his mouth, and he puts his hands on your waist, helping you to get comfortable on his lap. He looks away as the smoke comes out of his mouth. The cigarette goes back in your mouth, and Jungkook is already looking at you with big eyes again.

“Blow in my face again... please”

You do what he asks, and you feel him shudder and squeeze your waist, “I don't even think about the movie anymore”.

A smirk comes over your face, and you run your hand through his hair, “You've been so nice today, organizing everything to spend time with me, helping me relax... I want to thank you for that”

He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin between your breasts.

“My bunny... I've been keeping an eye on you since I got home"

“You can take your frustration out on me whenever you want”

“Would you do that for me?”

“Anything for you”

“Even if it means I'm going to be mean?” You wrap your fingers in his hair and pull it back slowly.

“Yes... I can be your personal punching bag if you please”

“Are you sure?” You say as you stub out your cigarette on his arm, staring into his eyes. He closes his eyes tightly and squeezes your waist very hard, which will probably leave bruises, but you don't care.

“Yes I am” he opens his eyes and keeps his gaze glued to yours. You drop the cigarette on the floor and attack his mouth.

He moves his hands up to your shoulders and back down to your waist. You rub yourself against him, looking for some kind of friction, and he pulls your waist closer in an attempt to do the same action.

“Lean your back against the sofa, it'll be better” you stand up, leaving his lap missing you, and he does what you said, being able to get a better view of you taking off your panties.

“Close your mouth, or you'll drool,” you say, smiling and getting back on top of him, ”I'll leave the shirt for you since it's yours.”

He laughs, you raise your arms, and he removes his shirt from your body, which he does with pleasure, then kisses his way down your neck.

“I've wanted to do that for a while”

“Then why didn't you do it before? You preferred to waste your time with that awful movie”

“I'm sorry, punish me for that” he says into your ear

You laugh, “you naughty boy”

He brings one of his hands down to your pussy, and runs his middle and ring fingers over it, “you're so wet”

“I've been wet since you took your shirt off, like an hour ago”

“Can I put them in?”

“Have at it, before I do it myself”

He puts his fingers inside you, looking at you as you close your eyes and arch your back. “You're so beautiful” you squeeze his shoulders, leaving your fingernails almost bruising him.

“Curl them” you ignore his compliment and give the order, he moves his fingers with ease, offering his thumb on your clit as a treat.

He puts his mouth on one of your breasts and licks his way to the nipple without taking his eyes off you. You pull his hair and call his name as he sucks your nipple and curls his fingers again. His other hand is on your waist, squeezing lightly. “I can't take my eyes off you, my sweetheart"

You growl and throw your head back, not giving a damn about the pain you're causing him by scratching his back like a wild animal, because that's how he makes you feel and that's how he asked to be treated.

He licks you from your nipple to your neck and nibbles on your earlobe, causing you to shiver.

“Jungkook stop.”

He pulls his fingers out of you, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, I just don't want to cum on your fingers, I want to cum on your cock” he sighs shakily, ”pull down your pants”

He lowers his sweatpants along with his underpants as much as this position allows him, and you put one of your hands on each of his shoulders, fitting your entrance to his tip.

You both moan in unison, feeling your bodies fit together perfectly, and you lower your hands from his shoulders to his chest. You move at a faster pace, and he grabs your ass, leaning his head against the back of the sofa. He lets out a whimper that was supposed to be your name.

“Look at me,” you order, squeezing his neck.

Your bouncing gets harder, his hands roam desperately over your body in a clumsy way, tears start to form in his eyes, and he coughs, obediently waiting for you to release his neck.

“Hit me”

“What?”

“Hit me, my love, please”

You stop pressing your hand to his neck without taking it away. He takes a deep breath, and you slam your hand on his cheek, marking your territory.

“You're so beautiful,” you slap him again. “I love you,” another slap. “My goddess,” and another slap. “I'd never cheat on you. You can treat me like shit every day, but I'll still love you and worship you, I'll do anything for you. You're my muse. I need you."

Your head is spinning, the cold wind coming from the balcony is chilling you, his mouth is seeking yours, and you connect them by wrapping your arms around his neck. You would be trapped for hours, days, even years in this moment, in what he, only he, causes you. In the way he, only he, loves you.

“Fuck, baby, I'm close”

“Let go, my love, I'll be here to hold you”

His words were like a trigger for your high to come. You scream his name and tremble around him. He kisses your neck in a sloppy way. Now he's moving his own waist, hunting his own orgasm.

“Baby, I'm sensitive, baby”

“I'm almost there, baby. Just hold on a little longer, please. I know I asked you to be mean, but don't do this to me.” You laugh and kiss him, moving your waist again.

He squeezes your waist and whines into your mouth.

“Love?” he breaks the kiss and looks deep into your eyes.

“It's okay, go on, I want you to,” you stroke the hair on the back of his neck.

And he allows himself to, sinking his head into the crook of your neck, hugging you as if someone wants to steal you away from him. The two of you hug in silence, and you can hear his breathing and his heart beating again, the TV already showing the typical Are you still watching? line.

He looks at you, with his hair messed up, his mouth red and wet from kissing, and droopy eyes.

"You're crazy", he smiles, "and I love you so much. If you left me, it would break me, I don't know how I could live without you by my side. You're my life."

"I'll never leave you."

"I know, I know." You caress his face, and he closes his eyes, seeking your touch like a magnet. You lean his head against you and hug him like a child in need of comfort.

"I love you so much, my bunny"

"I love you... I love you..."

"Thank you."

He looks at you again, "Thank you for today. You were very sweet for doing all this"

"Baby, you deserve so much more than this. This was a little treat. You deserve the world, and I feel guilty for not being able to give it to you"

You kiss him passionately and lean your forehead against his, "You're already my world, my love." He smiles with his eyes closed, and your breaths synchronize.

"Baby, I love that we're cuddling like this, but I really need to get cleaned up"

"I know, me too, take a shower with me, and then we'll watch another movie, or play a game, before bed"

"I'd love to."

"But if it's a movie, it has to be a good one," you smile.

He'll always make you happy, you don't need anything else, he'll always be your dopamine.

"Then you choose this time."

"And, hey"

"Yeah?"

"Did I overdo it with the cigarette?" You worry.

"Are you kidding? That was one of the sexiest things you've ever done"

"Good thing, but it still hurted you, let me take care of you"

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

astro thoughts : short n sweet <3 the beauty of venus

Venus in the 1st house wants to be loved for more than their appearance. They have the gift of gab just like their mercurial friends. You can forgive them easier than any other person because of their charm holding their appearance/personality together. Much more easier to like, but they do have a dark side no one knows about.

Venus in the 2nd house does not play around when getting to the money. Entrepreneurs by a long slide. But they don't tell you how they get their money ;) Sugar daddy placement, much like the 8th house, but its a little different. Its transactional only. Relationships usually need them to be on the receiving end only for their satisfaction. Have an appetite for money making tactics a lot more than any other second house placement (mercury & saturn being runner ups).

Venus in the 3rd house has a whimsical energy tied to it. Individuals with this placement have a lust for live, just the drive to their destination can bring them joy. Its like they live every day in the moment, inspiring us with what they find in the process.

Venus in the 4th house has a beautiful family. There relationships with family members could be up to par, they could be the favorite sibling or they generally just get a long with everybody. The downside to this placement could be that their family has full of secrets as this is a private house normally. They normally keep a lot about themselves at bay from the public (opposite to the 10th) and most never know them unless you are REALLY close to them, even then its just a mystery.

Venus in the 5th house are the charismatic personalities people adore. There players and can have anyone they want and its usually all fun and games until they meet their match. These are the royal lovers so their very choosy. What I like about this placement is they do not mind constantly getting to know people. They are almost always talking to new people as the dating scene is their playground.. its really what they came here for. They are meant to live a life full of playfulness, inspiration, and luxurious lifestyle if they allow themselves to get it.

Venus in the 6th house are powerhouses when they go for what is meant for them. They need a new routine to make themselves feel good. If they gotta get up and do their makeup to make themselves feel better than that'll do it. If they gotta workout everyday to get that dream body, then their up for the challenge. They love to be of service to people, but they have to remember they cannot always help people with their responsibilities.

Venus in the 7th house are truly popular individuals and they can be well liked by mostly everyone they come across. The thing about this placement is that I have noticed is that they can typically get in a lot of disputes with others. Could be seen as fake and wishy washy to some, but the best friend to others. It doesn't matter there kind of isn't a in between. They do have a nice personality and can keep up the charm with a lot of people. Can get what they want out of others in personal relationships mostly.

Venus in the 8th house have a deep bond with themselves and this chemistry have with their individualism is seen by others and it changes the way people view them. Others may like them for what they do for them and they can feel pretty used up if they are not careful. People want them for their looks and this can be annoying somethings. They gave a transformative bond with their relationships for better or for worse. If they focus on themselves this energy can work for their benefit and theirs alone.

Venus in the 9th house has a deep bond with the universe in a way that makes them more transparent with themselves and they way they feel about life. They live a long time finding the true meaning of life but in each day, each hour, each moment they can find the gift in what the world brings. They are capable of finding that their is more than what meets the eye, and their inspirational in the conquest of it all. Their gift is in the eye of jupiter, in which they see things in a whole nother view than others. And they have a way of sharing that information that they get from just walking outside or being home alone with their thoughts.

Venus in the 10th house are very well known for their beauty, the compassionate nature, their ability to meet their eyes with the crowd and just borderline energetic individuals. Even if bad news comes out about them, the public usually ignores this and focus more on their talents and personality. I feel this placement is a life saver. Can keep these people from the wrong energy at times, even if its impossible to get away from.

Venus in the 11th house can show a potential for having good company around them. Very sweet and compelling natives, their hearts are super big and can be really helpful to others on a day to day basis. Can genuinely be a people pleaser but this can work out for them some days. Could be popular on social media.

Venus in the 12th house have an alluring nature to them. These are the type of people that can hypnotize you and suddenly youre somewhere you have never been. They can take you on a journey with just their mind alone. They are gifted in the arts, a lot of celebs tend to have this placement. They are a gift to be around and not everyone is allowed to be around them. They can be sort of obsessive when it comes to something or someone they love. This is where the good art can come from. Very mysterious creatures, they move like a siren.

[katboykirby]

I am very curious to know what the original transcript for this Lesson was in Japanese. Because we've had more than one (a lot more than one) occasion where the translation from Japanese ➡️ English just totally changed the tone or meaning of entire scenes altogether. We've had instances where the English translation was completely different and wrong to the point it created it's own plotholes whole cloth (like that one time the English translation talked about the Devildom having a sun that just... doesn't exist)

It's not uncommon for entire lines of dialogue to be completely changed from what they were before translation. So I'm really curious to know how this scene went in Japanese, and if the less-than-satisfying way they handled "Father's love" is different in the original text.

Ok this may be nitpicking but my problem with the whole "Father's love" Is that your father Is the reason your sister is death, the whole reason y'all went to war... They casted you away because you didn't want Lilith to die...

The thing Is that Father's love Is not unconditional, If you didn't started the war, your sister would have died anyways, for the crime of loving a human too much, he practially made you choose between your loyalty to him or your love for your sister. Thats why Lucifer whole speech of "All Father did was love me, but I couldn't see It" feels shallow, because It undermines the tragedy of falling from the CR in the first place. Like If Seraph Lucifer had fallen in love with a human, he would probably had the same fate as Lilith. Simeon Is stripped of His own angelhood in S3/S4 for stealing the ring of light to save MC, so it's not like the CR Is better in the future or anything

I think Its unrealistic to expect OBM to put Father/God as this 100% Bad guy (with the whole uniting the three realms and all that) but also I feel like Lucifer should have more complicated feeling about this. I don't doubt Father loved him, but I don't think the conclusion of Lucifer arc should be that "All my Father did was love me but I was too prideful to see it"