#me and the bestie had a good time with this

[wonderjanga]

How Do You Just Know My Parental Figure?

Marvel just knows everyone’s mom’s for some reason and gives no explanation as to how. He just does.

Supes: *shows Billy a picture of his parents for whatever reason*

Marvel: “Supes… your mom is Mrs. Martha?”

Supes: “Yes? Do you know her…?”

Marvel: “Yeah! We met in ‘61 at a pie eating competition! She was the one making the pies for the competition.”

Supes: “Why were you at a pie eating competition? Were you participating?”

Marvel: “Uh yeah? I wanted that prize money and pie. Anyways, me and her hit it off when we got to talking. Then, the time bubble happened, but when it burst, we got back in touch and we make pies together now!”

Supes: “Huh. Ma’s never mentioned you.”

Marvel: “Really? i’ve been to the farm and everything.”

Supes: “You’ve been to the farm?!”

Marvel: “Yeah? A bake pies with her and try to help around the farm. By the way, Mr. Jonathan is your dad, right?”

Supes: “Yes?? How come I never knew this…?”

By the way, Billy goes as Billy and not as Marvel because he met like a maybe fourteen year old Ma Kent as Billy at the pie eating competition. Also, Martha knows he’s Cap so since Martha knows his identity, he figured she’d told her son. By the way, whenever Jon comes he’s so happy to see Billy cause wow! His grandma never told him there was another kid here. He figures Billy was a farmhand or something. Jon’s pretty sure that’s a thing anyways.

or

Wondy and Marvel: *sparring*

Marvel: “You know Diana you look just like your mother.”

Wondy: *falters slightly cause that came out of nowhere* “What?”

Marvel: *takes that as his chance to grab and throw her* “Yeah, you do! I guess it makes sense since you’re her daughter and all.”

Wondy: “Wait? you’re saying all of this like you personally know my mother.”

Marvel: “I did! Several thousand years ago. We used to be best friends! Then I was selected as a champion and had to leave and that’s when of our friendship fell out.”

Wondy: “So you’re an Amazonian?”

Marvel: “No, no no no I was an Amazonian.”

That previous champ and Hippolyta were actually besties but a young Hippolyta didn’t want her to go to man’s world because then she wouldn’t be able to come back to Themyscira. The previous champ went anyways and that was taken as a sort of act of betrayal, not that Diana’s mother would admit it. Not to mention, the previous champ couldn’t even come back to apologize considering you forget the island’s location if you leave.

or

Reporter: “Captain Marvel, as a member of the Justice League is there anything you would like to share with us about Bruce Wayne considering he sponsors you all?”

Marvel: “No, I don’t actually know anything about the guy. But you who I do know? Patrick Wayne.”

Reporter: Pardon? Please elaborate?

Marvel: “He was a pretty funny guy. He let me be a test dummy for all his little gadgets. It was fun!”

Meanwhile…

Bruce: *sitting on his couch watching this and remembers how he did research on his grandfather, and how most of those experimental gadgets were deadly*

Patrick and Marvel were actually pretty good buddies. They were like this 🤞. Then, the time bubble happened and by the time Billy got out, both Patrick and his son Thomas were already dead. Billy got really fortunate with Martha still being alive now that he thinks about it.

[joelmillerisapunk]

Strangers

Stripper!Javier Pena x f!reader // almost 9k

Time stands still and it's only us, what we feel started way before we ever touched... must be from a different life been here before and it just feels right

summary: you meet a sexy stripper at your bestie's bachelorette party and he tries his absolute hardest to get your number

warnings: mdni, 18+, javi is a stripper, he wears a man thong and gets pretty close to stripping it all off in public, there's cock and balls, unprotected p in v, f!oral receiving, lap dances for days, reader has breasts, a dress, and hair that can fall around her face and is internally conflicted about this man and his leopard thong, javi has a pov in this too

notes: i really don't remember what sparked this but here we are... it's been like a month or more of me working on this. I thought I was done and then I heard a single song and it pushed me to write even more. This was supposed to be just a smutty fic and then got some depth and I was like wtf. Anyway on to the thank yous, thank you to the 5000 people I have screamed to about this, and a massive thank you to @thundermartini for listening to me go on and on about this guy for a long time and then reading it for me love you baby! A special mention to @gothcsz for the thong idea, @evolnoomym, @milla-frenchy and @sawymredfox for being so supportive of this idea to @joelslegalwhre for reading and @syd-djarin for the moodboard

masterlist

The music thumped so loudly it seemed to shake the floor, the kind of bass-heavy track that rumbled through your chest. Your best friend’s bachelorette party was in full swing, and the rented penthouse buzzed with laughter, shrieks, and a significant amount of tequila-fueled chaos. The party planners had spared no expense, from the towering stacks of champagne glasses to the flashy male entertainment just about to take the stage.

And then, he walked in.

You couldn’t ignore the way the room seemed to shift when he entered. The man—Javier, as the MC introduced him—had an undeniable presence. Dressed in a tight police officer uniform complete with aviators, a fake badge, hat, and handcuffs, he adjusted his badge with a grin that screamed trouble. His dark eyes surveyed the room with the kind of confidence that could only come from knowing he was the main event. 

Every woman in the room, including you, took notice.

While your friends ogled and whispered not-so-subtle comments, you tried—and failed—to keep your eyes elsewhere. He was gorgeous, sure, but this wasn’t your scene. Loud parties weren’t really your thing. 

The first performance was for the bride-to-be, of course. When the lights dimmed and the music shifted to something playfully seductive, the room erupted into cheers and Javier made his way to the bachelorette. 

“Ladies,” he announced, his voice smooth and teasing as he pulled a pair of fake handcuffs from his belt. “I hear there's a bride-to-be here who’s guilty of breaking hearts. I’m afraid I’ll have to take her in.”

Your best friend shrieked with laughter as he arrested her, securing one cuff around her wrist and helping her onto a nearby chair. The room buzzed with excitement as he began to dance, every move deliberate and designed to tease. 

You watched the scene unfold, biting your lip to stifle your laughter. He was undeniably good at what he did. But you couldn’t focus on the theatrics as much as everyone else seemed to. Your attention had zeroed in on him—his broad shoulders, the way his shirt clung to his chest, and the effortless way he commanded every inch of the massive penthouse, the man was sex on legs. As he began to set up for the big finale, you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

Javier danced his way onto the makeshift stage in front of your bestie, spinning his hat off and tossing it with a flourish into the crowd. Almost causing a fight between a few of the women to break out.

His aviators followed, revealing deep, smoldering eyes that locked with yours for a moment too long. He’s just playing to the crowd, he has to look at all the women right?

The bassline shifted to a slower, dirtier rhythm, and he rolled his shoulders back, his body falling into perfect sync with the beat.

Then came the shirt.

He gripped the edges, peeling it off slowly, revealing inch by inch of sun-kissed skin stretched over a perfectly sculpted chest and arms. When he finally tossed the shirt aside, the room erupted in cheers and whistles.

And yet, all you could do was stare and clench your thighs together. Why was this affecting you so much? It’s just a party. It’s just a guy. Get a grip. But no amount of inner scolding could make you look away. Something about this man pulled you in.

His chest glistened under the soft glow of the light, each bead of sweat tracing a slow, tantalizing path over the chiseled contours of his body. Your breath hitched, captivated by the sheer allure of him—the way every ridge of muscle stood out, accentuated as his hand drifted slowly down his torso. He moved with deliberate ease, fully aware of the spell he was weaving, and the teasing smirk playing at the corner of his lips made it clear that he was savoring every second of all the attention he was receiving.

But it was when his fingers moved to rip off his belt that the real show began.

The collective energy in the room surged as Javier teasingly ran his hands down his sides, and in one swift, practiced motion, he reached for his waistband and yanked.

The rip-away pants came apart with a sharp, satisfying sound, sending the crowd into a frenzy. The noise, a mix of gasps, shrieks, and raucous laughter, echoed through the penthouse. But none of that registered as you stared at what had been revealed.

Javier stood unabashed and grinning in a leopard-print thong that left very little to the imagination. Every inch of his sculpted body was on display—toned legs, powerful thighs, and that tiny scrap of fabric barely holding itself together. The cut of the thong framed his hips perfectly, the deep lines of his V cutting down, drawing your eyes exactly where he wanted them to go. The thin fabric of the thong clung tightly to him, leaving the unmistakable outline of his cock on display, straining the limits of the material. Javier seemed completely unbothered by how much was on show.

Your face burned as your gaze dipped lower, catching a glimpse of something even more scandalous. The tiny scrap of leopard print couldn’t quite contain him—on the sides, the curve of his balls was slipping free. You swallowed hard, your pulse fluttering as he shifted his weight, the motion only emphasizing how precariously the thong was holding itself together.

The room exploded excitedly, women fanning themselves, throwing bills, and shouting over one another. But you could barely breathe.

And then, just when you thought the spectacle couldn’t get any more outrageous, Javier turned around with a deliberate, teasing spin, giving the room an uninterrupted view of his backside.

The thong was practically nonexistent, the thin fabric disappearing completely between the firm, sculpted curves of his ass. His glistening, muscular cheeks were on full display, round and perfectly defined, drawing another deafening eruption of cheers and whistles from the crowd.

Javier struck a pose, bracing his hands on his hips as he arched his back slightly, flexing for effect. He glanced over his shoulder with a devilish grin, clearly relishing in the chaos he was causing. The lights caught the sheen of sweat on his skin, highlighting every curve and line of muscle, leaving no question as to just how perfect he was from every single angle.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away. Your breath hitched and your pulse pounded so loudly in your ears it almost drowned out the music. Heat flushed through your body as your gaze lingered shamelessly on his backside, every inch of him a deliberate invitation.

After what felt like a torturous eternity, Javier turned back toward the crowd, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest as he surveyed everyone's reactions.

He strutted forward, running his hands up his torso and tossing a playful wink to the bride-to-be, who was practically falling out of her chair from laughter and shock. But his gaze kept flicking to you.

Your cheeks burned as he moved closer, spinning on his heel to give the audience another view. His movements were fluid and sensual, every roll of his hips and flex of his body perfectly in time with the music. When he leaned down to grab the bride’s hands to feel up his torso, his back arched in a way that emphasized the curve of his ass, and you bit your lip without thinking.

This man was a problem.

When he finally ended the dance with a flourish—dropping to his knees in front of the bride-to-be before flawlessly almost jumping back up to a standing position—the applause was deafening.

Javier laughed, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. He took a playful bow, blowing a kiss to the bride-to-be before gathering his discarded pants and shirt. His bare torso glistened under the soft glow of the party lights, and the lingering smirk on his lips suggested he knew he had the entire room wrapped around his finger.

The girls were still cheering and clapping, their voices a mix of exhilaration and tipsy enthusiasm. But while the others were caught up in the wild energy of the moment, you felt a strange tightness in your chest, like the room had closed in around you.

You weren’t used to reacting this way to someone, and it unnerved you. The heat creeping up your neck was impossible to ignore, and no amount of pretending to be distracted by your drink could hide the fact that your eyes kept darting back to him.

And he noticed—like a magnet—his eyes locked onto yours.

Your stomach flipped.

For a split second, everything else faded; the noise, the laughter, even your own internal protests to look away. It was just him, standing there, looking at you with that maddening confidence.

Then he moved.

Javier began to dance again, hips rolling in slow, hypnotic circles to the bass-heavy beat. The fabric of the thong strained with every motion, but he didn’t shy away. If anything, he seemed to lean into it—one hand trailing down his torso to brush along the waistband, teasing as if he might remove it completely.

Your pulse fluttered wildly as he worked the crowd, making his way closer, dancing toward you.

Your breath caught as you tried to focus on literally anything else—your drink, the flickering candles on the table, the way your best friend was still howling with laughter. But there was no escaping the fact that Javier was now standing right in front of you, every inch of him radiating heat and presence.

“Having fun?” he asked.

You blinked up at him, your mouth suddenly dry. “Uh… yeah. It’s been… something.” Your voice wavered, betraying how flustered you felt. Something? Really? That was the best you could come up with? You scrambled for words, your brain short-circuiting. “I mean—great. It’s been great.”

Smooth.

His smirk widened. “Just great?” He leaned in slightly, the scent of his cologne��something dark and woodsy—mingling with the musky sheen of sweat on his skin. “Because you’ve been staring like you’re enjoying yourself a little more than tha?t.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “I—I wasn’t—”

“Relax,” he teased, his grin softening into something warmer, more inviting. “I’m just messing with you. Now come on, sweetheart,” he encouraged. “Let me make your night.”

“I’m good, thanks,” you replied, though your cheeks burned with the effort of maintaining composure. You crossed your arms to emphasize your refusal, but Javier didn’t look the least bit discouraged.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re good. Not yet, anyway.” He leaned closer, his voice just for you now. “But I’m more than happy to change that.”

Despite your best efforts, the laughter bubbling up from your chest betrayed you. He grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. But when you refused—again—he didn’t press. Instead, he winked, gave an exaggerated shrug, and moved on to another guest, leaving you strangely disappointed.

————

Later, after the performances ended and the room was quieter, you found yourself sitting on a chair in the back corner of the room scrolling idly on your phone, trying to drown out your lingering thoughts about him. A few drinks had loosened your resolve. You noticed a stack of glossy business cards on the table where he had tossed his hat earlier. Curiosity got the better of you, and you picked one up.

The card was sleek, black with gold lettering. At the top, in bold, elegant lettering, it read:

Elite Heat’s Javier Peña

To the left, there was a neatly organized list; a phone number, a Facebook link, which you immediately ignored, and a website address. But it was the bottom that made your breath hitch.

On top of a gold banner, the words Elite Heat: “The Best Sex Therapy” were printed in bold, confident lettering. 

To the right was a photo of Javier himself.

It wasn’t a professional headshot - far from it. It was one of those casual yet devastatingly attractive pictures that looked effortless but likely required perfect lighting and timing. He wore a grey long-sleeve shirt that framed his broad chest perfectly, the top buttons undone just enough to tease without giving away too much. His hand, however, made it impossible not to stare—casually slipping beneath the fabric, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his defined abs. The way the light hit his skin added a subtle sheen, making the whole image feel like a deliberate invitation.

For a moment, you just stared at the card. The combination of professional polish and brazen confidence made your stomach twist in a way that annoyed you.

“The best sex therapy, huh?” you muttered to yourself, raising an eyebrow at the audacity.

Curiosity got the better of you. You grabbed your phone and typed “Javier Peña” into Instagram. After scrolling through a few accounts that clearly weren’t him, you found the right one.

The profile itself was… an experience.

Picture after picture of Javier dominated the feed—some in his infamous uniform, others in casual attire, and far too many shirtless to be accidental. Every post was a masterclass in confident allure, and his captions were just as bold.

The comments were what really got to you, though. Endless lines of hearts, fire emojis, and thirsty declarations filled each post.

“Find something you like?”

His voice startled you so much that you almost dropped your phone. You looked up to see Javier standing in front of you, his shirt slung casually over his shoulder and he was wearing his uniform pants again. How long had he been there?

“I was just…” You trailed off, trying to think of a plausible excuse for stalking him online. His smirk told you he wasn’t buying it.

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning in closer than necessary. “You can follow me. Might even follow you back.”

“I’m not interested,” you replied, though the conviction in your voice wavered as he placed a hand on the back of your chair, caging you in.

“You sure about that?” he asked, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. Your heart raced as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ll make you a deal sweetheart, one dance. If you hate it, I’ll leave you alone. But if you like it… well, you can give me your number when it’s over.”

You swallowed hard, your resolve crumbling faster than you wanted to admit. After all, what was the harm in one dance?

Javier’s confidence was infuriatingly contagious, and your curiosity was louder than the protests in your head. You nodded if only to prove to yourself that he wouldn’t get under your skin. A small, victorious smile curved his lips as he straightened, offering his hand. “Good choice.”

He didn’t give you much time to second-guess as he guided you to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the penthouse. Some of your friends hooted and hollered, clearly thrilled to see you in the spotlight. You, however, were hyper-aware of every step as Javier led you to a chair he had conveniently placed in the center of the room.

“Sit,” he commanded, his voice smooth but firm. His dark eyes gleamed with mischief as he waited for you to comply. Against your better judgment, you did.

The music shifted to something slower and sultrier. Javier grabbed his shirt from his shoulder, tossing it onto the floor. The movement was casual, but there was nothing casual about the way his toned chest and large arms drew every pair of eyes in the room. Including yours.

He stalked closer, and suddenly it felt like the room had disappeared. Just you, the chair, and the dangerously attractive man who seemed to thrive on the tension hanging in the air.

“Relax,” he murmured as he noticed the way your hands gripped the edge of the chair. “I don’t bite.” He winked. “Not unless you ask nicely.”

Before you could reply, he began to move.

It wasn’t the kind of dance you expected. Yes, it was provocative—every roll of his hips and glide of his body was designed to tease—but there was something more deliberate about it. He kept his gaze locked on yours, watching every flicker of emotion on your face. His hands didn’t touch you—not yet. Instead, they skimmed close enough to make you ache for the contact, only for him to pull away at the last moment.

He straddled the chair, his thighs framing yours as he dipped low, his chest hovering just inches from your face. His scent filled your senses, and your pulse quickened as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re even more beautiful up close,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched, and you hated how easily he could see the effect he had on you.

Javier straightened, his hands gripping the chair on either side of you as he moved his hips in a way that felt borderline illegal. He was close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him, but he still didn’t touch. The lack of contact was maddening, and the glint in his eye told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

The song ended too quickly, and he stepped back, leaving you feeling both relieved and oddly bereft. Your friends erupted into cheers and applause, but you barely noticed. Your eyes were fixed on Javier as he extended a hand, helping you out of the chair.

“Enjoy yourself?” he asked.

You swallowed hard, refusing to let him see how much he’d gotten to you. “It was… okay.”

He laughed—a deep, rich sound that sent another shiver through you. “Just okay, huh? I’ll have to work on that.”

Before you could respond, he winked and disappeared back into the crowd.

——

An hour later, the party was winding down. The penthouse was quieter, and most of your friends had migrated to the couches or left altogether. You were nursing your last drink of the night when Javier appeared again, a shot glass in each hand.

“For you,” he said, offering one with an easy smile.

You eyed it suspiciously. “You didn’t put anything in this, did you?”

He looked genuinely offended, clutching his chest dramatically. “I’m hurt you’d even ask.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, fine,” he admitted, leaning in closer. “I did put something in it.”

You froze, and he smirked, finishing his sentence with a devilish twinkle in his eye. “It’s called tequila.”

Your laugh surprised even you. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming,” he corrected, clinking his glass against yours. “Now drink up.”

Against your better judgment, you downed the shot, the burn of the tequila grounding you for a moment.

“Good girl,” he said. “Now, how about that number?”

Javier’s smile didn’t waver as he set his empty shot glass on the table. “Still hesitant, huh?” he asked, watching you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

You shrugged, trying to appear unaffected. “I don’t make it a habit to give my number to strangers, especially ones who…” You gestured vaguely to his naked chest and the police hat perched crookedly on his head. “...do what you do.”

“Fair enough,” he said, the teasing edge in his voice softening. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it out to you. “At least let me follow you on Instagram..”

You stared at the phone, then at him. The sincerity in his tone threw you off balance, and the way his dark eyes searched yours made it hard to hold onto your skepticism. Against your better judgment—again—you took the phone and followed your account.

“Here,” you said, handing it back after following him.

Javier glanced at the screen, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing into the night with the same confidence that had drawn every eye in the room earlier.

Javi 

Javier leaned against the balcony railing outside the penthouse lighting a cigarette, the cool night air doing little to temper the heat still coursing through him. The party was still going inside, but his thoughts had drifted elsewhere—to you. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head at himself. He’d performed for hundreds of women, charmed his way through countless parties, but tonight felt… different.  

You’d thrown him off balance in a way he wasn’t used to.  

Sure, you’d laughed at his jokes and taken the shot he offered, but there was something in your eyes—an intoxicating mix of curiosity and resistance—that had him hooked. He wasn’t sure what it was about you. Maybe it was the way you tried to keep your guard up even as he chipped away at it. Maybe it was the way you watched him when you thought he wasn’t looking, like you couldn’t quite help yourself.  

Or maybe it was the way he couldn’t stop replaying that moment on the dance floor in his head. The way your breath hitched when he leaned in. The way your lips parted, as though you were holding back words—or something else entirely.  

The music from the party shifted the song echoing in the distance. Javier’s mind wandered as the melody pulled him into his own thoughts. It wasn’t just lust that gnawed at him—though, hell, that was definitely part of it. No, this was something deeper, something that felt unsettlingly like longing.  

He ran a hand through his hair, the grin he’d worn all night slipping away. He’d never been one for complications, especially when it came to women. His job was to entertain, to tease, to flirt—but he’d never felt this kind of pull before. It was like a spark had ignited when he locked eyes with you, and now it wouldn’t go out.  

For the first time in a long while, Javier wasn’t sure if he was in control.  

The lyrics to the song playing in the penthouse hit him square in the chest.  

Must be from a different life, been here before, and it just feels right. No, this ain't the first time for you and I, we ain't strangers.

The words struck a chord, leaving him standing there, staring out at the city lights, wondering how a single dance, a single moment, could unravel him so completely.  

It's like it's driving me closer to you, every step back pulls me right back to you…

Maybe you wouldn’t give him your number. Maybe this would end here, tonight, like all the other nights before. But as he grabbed his phone from his pocket and opened Instagram, his thumb hovering over your profile, he couldn’t help but think—this didn’t feel like an ending.  

It felt like the beginning of something he wasn’t ready to let go of.  

———

Back in your hotel room, you flopped onto the plush bed with a groan. The events of the evening replayed in your mind, Javier’s smirk and the heat of his gaze lingering longer than you cared to admit.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, reaching for your phone. A quick check of Instagram confirmed what you suspected—he’d already followed and sent you a message.

Javier: See? Now we’re not strangers anymore.

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. His confidence was irritatingly endearing.

You: I don’t think Instagram follows count as a formal introduction.

His reply was almost instant.

Javier: What would count? Because I’m pretty sure that dance was more personal than most first dates.

You bit your lip, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. He wasn’t wrong, but you weren’t about to admit that.

You: Is this your usual routine? Flirt with everyone at the party, then slide into DMs?

Javier: Nope. Just you.

You stared at the screen, your stomach doing an annoying little flip at his words.

You: Why me?

The typing indicator blinked for a moment before his reply came through.

Javier: Because you didn’t throw yourself at me like everyone else. And because you’re cute when you’re pretending not to be interested.

Your cheeks burned as you read the message, but you couldn’t help smiling.

You: I’m not pretending.

Javier: So you are interested?

You: I didn’t say that.

Javier: But you didn’t deny it, either.

You sighed, realizing this conversation wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

You: Don’t you have better things to do than bother me?

Javier: Nope. Not tonight.

Before you could come up with a snarky reply, another message popped up.

Javier: You could come over, you know. Save us both the trouble of texting all night.

Your heart raced at the suggestion, and you hesitated, typing and deleting a dozen responses before settling on one.

You: Not happening.

Javier: Why not?

You: Because it’s late, and I’m not that kind of girl.

Javier: What kind of girl is that?

You: The kind that sneaks into a stranger’s room after one tequila shot and a few texts.

Javier: I’m not exactly a stranger anymore.

You stared at his message, your lips twitching at the boldness. Before you could type out another response, your phone buzzed with a notification. It was a photo. From Javier.

You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the image preview before finally opening it. The picture was simple yet devastatingly effective: Javier, shirtless, sprawled on a hotel bed, the faint light casting shadows that only emphasized his toned chest. His dark eyes smoldered into the camera, and his messy hair added to the whole “devil-may-care” aesthetic he wore so well.

Javier: Feeling really lonely over here. Could use some company.

Heat pooled low in your belly and you groaned, tossing your phone onto the bed as if distance could break the spell he seemed to have on you. But of course, curiosity won out, and you grabbed it again, typing out a response before you could second-guess yourself.

You: Flattery and thirst traps won’t work on me.

Javier: Who said it was flattery? Just being honest.

You: Still not happening.

Javier: Okay, how about a compromise?

You: What kind of compromise?

Javier: Drinks. Just the two of us. Down at the hotel bar. Public place, no pressure.

You bit your lip, weighing your options. Saying yes felt like walking into a trap, but a part of you was curious—and maybe, just maybe, a little tempted. The idea of sitting across from him, away from the crowd, felt… different. Safer. Almost.

You: Fine. One drink.

Javier: I’ll take it. Meet you there in ten?

You: Fifteen. I need to change.

Javier: You don’t have to change for me, sweetheart. You already look perfect.

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips as you tossed your phone onto the bed and rifled through your suitcase. Fifteen minutes later, you stepped into the elevator, your heart pounding with anticipation and nerves as you descended to the hotel bar.

The bar was dimly lit, with warm amber hues reflecting off the polished surfaces. The low hum of conversation mingled with the clinking of glasses, creating an atmosphere both intimate and unassuming. You spotted Javier immediately.  

He sat at a corner table, leaning back in his chair. He’d changed into a simple black button-down that clung to his frame in a way that was almost unfair. His gaze locked onto you the moment you entered.  

“Right on time,” he said, standing as you reached the table. He pulled out a chair for you, a small but unexpected gesture that caught you off guard.  

“Don’t get used to it,” you replied, settling into the seat.  

“Noted.” His smile widened as he slid into the chair opposite you.  

The server appeared almost instantly, and Javier gestured for you to order first. You requested a simple cocktail, while he opted for whiskey on the rocks. As the server walked away, his attention returned to you and it wasn’t long before they returned with them.

“So,” he began, leaning forward slightly. “What convinced you to come down here?”  

You raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. “Curiosity, I guess. Wanted to see if you were as charming one-on-one as you are with a crowd.”  

“And?” 

You took a deliberate sip of your drink before answering. “Jury’s still out.”  

He chuckled, “I’m not worried. I’m good under pressure.”  

The banter came easily, the conversation flowing in a way that surprised you. He was quick-witted, teasing without being overbearing, and as much as you hated to admit it, he was easy to talk to, it felt like knew him without knowing him. The more you spoke, the more you caught glimpses of the man behind the cocky facade—sharp, observant, and surprisingly thoughtful.  

Still, you made him work for it.  

Whenever his compliments grew too bold, you deflected with a teasing remark. When he leaned in a little too close, you leaned back, though you couldn’t ignore the thrill that ran through you each time he tested your resolve.  

“I like this game you’re playing,” he said after a while, his whiskey glass nearly empty.  

“What game?” you asked innocently.  

“The one where you pretend you’re not interested.” His gaze was unwavering, the heat in his eyes unmistakable.  

“I’m not pretending,” you replied, though the words sounded less convincing than you’d hoped.  

He tilted his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “No? Then why are you still here?”  

You opened your mouth to respond, but the truth caught in your throat. Why were you still here?  

Before you could come up with an excuse, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing yours. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent a jolt of electricity up your arm.  

“Listen,” he said, his voice softer now, the teasing edge gone. “If this isn’t what you want, just say the word, and I’ll back off. No hard feelings.”  

For the first time that night, you saw something unguarded in his expression—genuine sincerity that made your heart stutter.  You hesitated, your walls cracking under the weight of his words. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, or the way his thumb brushed against your knuckles, but something in you shifted.  

“Okay,” you said quietly.  

His brow lifted. “Okay, what?”  

“Okay… you’re not completely unbearable.”  

He laughed, the sound genuine and warm. “High praise.”  

“You know, I didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” you admitted finally, your voice quieter than you intended. “I just don’t know if this is a good idea.”

His smirk softened into something gentler, his fingers still lightly brushing yours on the table. “Not everything has to be a good idea to be worth it, sweetheart,” he said.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Is that your life philosophy, or just your way of convincing women to give you their number?”

“Both,” he said with a shrug, his grin returning. “And it’s worked out pretty well so far.”

You rolled your eyes, but the tension between you eased slightly. The conversation shifted after that, the teasing banter giving way to something more genuine. He asked about your life, your work, your dreams—and for every question he asked, he shared something about himself, too. 

“I wasn’t always this guy,” he admitted at one point, swirling the remnants of his whiskey in his glass. “I used to be a cop. A real one. Back in Colombia.”

You blinked, surprised. “A cop? Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. DEA, actually.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? What made you leave?”

His expression darkened briefly, a shadow crossing his features. “Let’s just say… the job took its toll. And I realized I wanted something different. Something lighter.” He glanced at you then, a hint of humor returning to his voice. “Though I’m not sure stripping is what my father had in mind when I told him I was switching careers.”

The two of you laughed, and the conversation continued to flow. By the time your drinks were empty, you realized you were leaning forward, hanging onto his every word.

Javier glanced at the time on his phone and then back at you. “I hate to say it, but the bar’s closing soon.”

You nodded, a strange mix of disappointment and relief settling over you. “Guess I should head back to my room.”

“Yeah.” He hesitated, as if weighing his next words carefully. “Can I walk you to your door?”

Your pulse quickened at the question, but you nodded. “Okay.”

The two of you rode the elevator in silence, the charged tension between you filling the small space. When you reached your floor, he stepped out with you, his presence at your side was both comforting and exhilarating.

When you finally stopped outside your door, you turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Well… this is me.”

“Home sweet hotel,” he said, his tone light but his gaze intense.

You fiddled with your key card, unsure of what to say. He didn’t push, didn’t try to move closer. Instead, he simply smiled.

“I had a good time tonight,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You swallowed hard, his words sending a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the tequila. “Me too.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with unspoken possibilities, each one more tempting than the last. Then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned in and kissed him.

It was soft, hesitant at first—a test to see if this was really what you wanted. But the moment his lips moved against yours, everything else fell away. His hand cupped your cheek, his touch warm and steady as he deepened the kiss. 

When you finally pulled back, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out,” you replied.

His smile was slow, almost lazy. “Careful, sweetheart. I just might take you up on that.” 

As Javier lingered, you found yourself hesitating. The way he kissed you had ignited something within you—something raw.

You opened your door but didn’t step inside, glancing back at him. "Well, you coming?”

He arched a brow, that teasing smirk returning. “You sure?”

You laughed softly. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

Javier followed you inside. The dim light of the room cast shadows across his face, softening the sharp lines of his features. He shut the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as he studied you.

“So,” he drawled, his tone playful but low. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

You swallowed, heat rising to your cheeks. “I think you know Javier.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, his fingers lightly grabbing your wrist. He guided you to sit on the edge of the bed and his voice dropped an octave. “If we’re doing this, I’m in control, ¿entiendes?”

You nodded, and it must have been obvious how nervous you were.

“Relax,” he murmured, his hands brushing your knees as he stepped between them. “This is supposed to be fun.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. He leaned closer, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Do me a favor,” he whispered. “Touch yourself. Just a little.”

Your eyes widened, your pulse skyrocketing. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said. “I want to watch you.”

When you hesitated, his hand trailed up your thigh, his touch light but maddening. “Go on beautiful,” he urged. “Show me how you make yourself feel good.”

Your breath hitched, heat rushing to your cheeks and pooling low in your belly. Javier leaned back slightly, giving you space but never breaking eye contact. His gaze was dark, commanding, and utterly unapologetic. He wanted this. Wanted you vulnerable, open, and completely at his mercy. 

You hesitated, your heart pounding like a drum, but the way his fingers skimmed over your thigh made it impossible to think straight. “Don’t be shy,” he murmured, his voice coaxing yet dripping with authority. “I want to see every bit of you, mi amor.”

Your hand trembled as it moved to the hem of your dress. Slowly, you slid it higher, exposing more of your thighs to his burning gaze. He walked back and pulled up a chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest, but his eyes never wavered from you. The way he looked at you—as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world—was both thrilling and terrifying.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. The praise sent a shiver through your body. You could feel your arousal building, the tension crackling between you like a live wire.  

Your breath shuddered as your fingers brushed the fabric of your panties, the dampness betraying just how much his presence, his words, his command, had affected you. You glanced at him, unsure, but his gaze was steady, his jaw tight, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your pulse race. 

Slowly, you slipped your hand beneath the fabric, the first tentative touch drawing a quiet gasp from your lips. Javier's expression darkened with hunger, his composure unraveling ever so slightly as he leaned forward. 

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Let me see how beautiful you are when you can’t hold back.”

Your fingers began to move in slow circles, your body responding to your touch almost instinctively. The heat between your thighs grew, and your hips shifted slightly, seeking more pressure. The room seemed to shrink, the air heavy with the sound of your breathing and the faint rustle of your movements. 

Javier's eyes never left you. His own restraint was evident in the way his fists clenched, the way his chest rose and fell a little too fast. “I want to hear you. Don’t hold back from me.”

You whimpered, your movements becoming more confident, more insistent as you lost yourself in the moment. Every sound you made, every twitch of your body, seemed to light a fire in him. His control was slipping, and it was intoxicating to know that you were the one unraveling him. 

“God, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “Keep going, just like that.”

Javier’s gaze burned into you, the tension in his jaw betraying how tightly he was holding himself back. But then, he shifted, his hands moving to undo the buttons of his shirt, one by one, exposing the golden skin of his chest. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if daring you to keep watching even as your own hand continued its rhythm. 

“Don’t stop,” he murmured, his voice dark and commanding, the sound vibrating through you. His shirt slid off his shoulders, and he let it fall to the floor. Then, his hands moved to his belt, the metallic clink making your breath hitch. He undid it in a single, fluid motion, the sound of the zipper following shortly after. 

Your fingers faltered for a moment, your breath catching as your focus shifted entirely to him. He stood before you, stripped of all pretense, his movements deliberate and sure. When he pushed his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, your gaze locked onto him, and your thoughts scattered.

He was breathtaking. The sharp angles of his hips, the sculpted planes of his abdomen, the sheer strength of his frame—it was as if he had been carved just for you. Heat coiled low in your belly, a visceral reaction to the undeniable evidence of his desire for you.

Your eyes traveled over him, lingering shamelessly, drinking in every inch of him. His dark eyes burned into yours, filled with a heat that left you both vulnerable and electrified.

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze despite still being partially clothed. The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing he could see—made your pulse race and your chest tighten with need.

The air between you crackled with an unspoken hunger, and you couldn’t look away, couldn’t hide how deeply he affected you.

His hand wrapped around his shaft, a groan slipping from his lips as he began to stroke slowly, matching the rhythm you’d set for yourself. “Look at me,” he said. “Don’t hide from me, nena.”

The sight of him, so confident, so completely at ease with his own pleasure, made your own need intensify. Your movements quickened, your body arching slightly as the tension in your core built. His gaze flickered over you, drinking in every shiver, every gasp, every movement of your hand.

“Dios mío,” he murmured, his strokes becoming faster as he watched you. “You’re so beautiful like this. I could watch you forever.” 

Javier’s hand stilled suddenly, and you watched as he got up, his body exuding confidence and unrelenting command. He stepped closer, towering over you where you sat, his dark eyes still heavy with desire. He leaned down, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his voice a seductive rasp as he said, “Come here.”

You hesitated, your heart racing, unsure of what he was asking. But he took your hand, pulling you gently to your feet, and his lips brushed your ear. “I want you to dance for me. Just for me.”

“I—I don’t know if I can,” you stammered, your cheeks burning. The idea made your pulse race, the vulnerability and intimacy of it all was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

His hands moved to your waist, steadying you. “Yes, you can, you’re perfect.”

His words wrapped around you, melting your hesitation. Slowly, you began to sway, your movements tentative at first, but his gaze never wavered, filled with encouragement and raw need. 

Your fingers found the hem of your dress, and you began to lift it, inch by inch, exposing your skin. His eyes tracked every motion, his breaths deep and heavy, fueling your confidence. The dress fell to the floor, leaving you in your underwear. You turned away from him, your fingers trembling as you unclasped your bra, letting it slide off your shoulders before finally slipping out of your panties. 

“Fuck, you are so beautfiul.”

You felt the power in his words, the way they stoked your courage and your desire. With each slow sway of your hips, you inched closer to him, the magnetic pull between you was impossible to resist. His heated gaze anchored you, igniting a fire that coursed through your veins.

You ran your hands down your body, over your curves, letting him watch as you closed the distance. His chest heaved as you straddled him and the tip of his cock brushed against your core, you froze, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. 

“You’re doing so good,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “Just like that. Take your time, baby. Feel every second of it.

“Javi,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I don’t know if I—”

“Yes, you do,” he interrupted, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips. His touch was firm, guiding but never forcing. “You’ve got this, baby. Dance for me—on me. Take your time.”

The raw hunger in his voice undid you. He guided your movements as you began to grind against him, slow and sensual. Your body aligned with his as you slid against him, teasing him with every slow grind. His head fell back against the chair, his jaw clenched as he groaned your name. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hands tightening their grip, encouraging your movements. “Just like that. Feel me, nena. Let me feel all of you.”

Slowly, deliberately, you adjusted, letting your slick pussy tease the length of him. The anticipation was maddening, and you could feel him trembling beneath you, his restraint barely holding. Then, with a deep breath, you angled yourself just right and began to lower yourself onto his length.

The sensation stole your breath as you took him inch by inch, your body adjusting to his size. His growl of pleasure rumbled through you, his hands guiding you down until you were completely seated. The stretch, the fullness—it was overwhelming and it felt so good.

“Now move, baby,” he urged, his voice strained. “Show me how good you can make us feel.”

You began to roll your hips, your movements slow and deliberate as you rode him, your bodies perfectly in sync. The connection between you felt electric, every thrust and grind drawing you closer together. His hands explored your body, his lips tracing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone as you moved, his murmured praises driving you to the brink.

Each undulation of your hips sent a new wave of pleasure crashing through you, and as you rode him, the world melted away, leaving only the two of you tangled in passion and ecstasy.

The sensation made you both gasp, his hands tightening on your hips as you began to move. “That’s it,” he groaned. “Ride me. Just like that.” 

The tension coiled tighter with every roll of your hips, the friction building to a fever pitch as Javier groaned your name like a prayer. His hands gripped your waist firmly, guiding your movements, his thumbs pressing bruising circles into your skin as if to anchor himself. The entire time his gaze stayed locked on yours, dark and intense, as if he wanted to memorize the way you looked in this moment—completely undone above him.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped. “You feel so damn good.”

The words lit you up, your pace quickening as you chased the edge, that blinding release that teased just out of reach. Your breaths mingled with his, sharp and ragged, the room heavy with the sound of skin meeting skin and the delicious symphony of your pleasure.

“Javi,” you gasped.

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his hands sliding up your back to cradle your face. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

Something in his voice broke you, the sincerity laced with desire, the unshakable promise that he wouldn’t let you fall. Your body tensed, your movements stuttering as the first shockwaves of pleasure crashed through you, and you cried out his name as you shattered around him.

Javier didn’t falter. He held you steady, his grip firm as he ground his hips up to meet yours, pulling you through the aftershocks until you were trembling in his arms. The intensity of it left you breathless, and you slumped forward, resting your forehead against his as you tried to gather yourself.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice still thick with need, though his concern for you was evident.

You nodded, chest heaving as you caught your breath. “Yeah,” you whispered. 

“Your turn to relax. I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you could respond, he scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as he stood. A soft squeak escaped you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he carried you across the room.

“Javi, I can walk,” you protested weakly, though you made no effort to pull away.

“I know you can,” he teased, “but I like having you right where you are.”

The bed was cool against your back when he laid you down, but his body quickly chased away the chill. Javier followed you down, his weight settling between your thighs.

“Now,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face as his gaze softened. “Where were we?”

Javier’s lips captured yours in a kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, savoring every second, and you couldn’t help but melt into him.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of heat as he paused to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. His hands explored you, tracing the curve of your waist and the swell of your hips before sliding lower. Every touch sent shivers through you, and you couldn’t hold back the soft gasps escaping your lips.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured against your skin. “Every inch of you.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you arched into him, your body aching for more. “Javi, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He chuckled softly. “Patience, sweetheart. You just taste so good.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders, your body arching involuntarily. “Javier, I need… I need you.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re so beautiful like this. All mine.”

As his lips moved lower, he pressed kisses to the sensitive skin of your thighs, his hands spreading you gently. The anticipation made your body tremble, your legs parting instinctively as you felt him pause, his breath hot against your core.

“Perfect,” he whispered, almost to himself, before he leaned in.

The first touch of his tongue made you cry out, your fingers clutching at the sheets as he worked you with slow movements. Javier groaned softly, his grip firm on your thighs as he held you open, the sound vibrating through you and heightening the pleasure.

Your hips bucked against him, and you gasped, “Javi, please, I’m so close.”

He lifted his head slightly, his lips glistening as he smirked at you. “I love hearing you beg for me, come on let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

His tongue and suddenly his fingers moved together in perfect rhythm, lapping, sucking and moving just right. The tension in your belly coiled tighter until it snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves that left you trembling. Javier didn’t stop until your body softened beneath his touch, his movements slowing as he kissed your thighs and worked his way back up your body.

By the time he reached your lips, you were breathless, your body buzzing with aftershocks. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

“How was that beautiful?” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours.

“Incredible,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the strong lines of his jaw.

Javier groaned softly at your touch, his restraint visibly fraying. He kissed you harder, his body pressing into yours as his arousal became impossible to ignore. “You sure you’re ready for more?” 

You answered by rolling your hips against him, earning a sharp inhale as he gritted his teeth. “I need you, Javi. Please fuck me.”

That was all it took. He positioned himself, his gaze locked on yours as he pushed into you in one slow, steady motion. The stretch was intense, and you gasped, clinging to him as your body adjusted.

“Jesus,” he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder. “You feel so fucking good, so damn tight.”

“Move..please,” you urged softly, your lips brushing his ear.

He obeyed, pulling back before thrusting in again, setting a rhythm that was slow but deep. Every movement drew you closer until you couldn’t tell where he ended and you began.

His hand slid between you, his thumb finding your most sensitive spot, teasing it in time with his thrusts. “You’re taking me so well.”

Your nails raked down his back, the pleasure building impossibly fast. “Javier,” you whimpered, your body tightening around him as the tension reached its breaking point.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, his pace quickening as he chased his own release. “Come for me, give me one more.”

His words were your undoing. You shattered around him, your cries filling the room as pleasure consumed you. Javier followed moments later, his movements faltering as he buried himself deep, a guttural groan escaping him as he found his release.

For a while, neither of you moved, the room quiet except for the sound of your ragged breaths. Eventually, Javier rolled to the side, pulling you close against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips soft and tender.

He chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath your cheek. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You laughed softly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “You’re not so innocent yourself, Javier.”

His smirk returned. “Get some rest, baby,” he murmured, pulling the blanket over you both. “You’ll need it for round two.”

[urstruly-ghst]

have you ever tried this one ?! - 3rd years

in which you remember the song 'juno' and start to perform in your bedroom. forgetting you invited someone over.

author's note: (not edited, just thoughts) i promise, im trying to churn the fics. but hehe... i got the idea from my brainrot of crowley bringing your world's music to you.

content: can be read platonic/romantic (leaning on romantic), gn! reader, suggestive (its juno positions, what did u expect ?!)

As you stay in the privacy of your own room, you remember the old playlist Crowley gave you. You roll your eyes, out the of the many ways Crowley can help... He brings you music? He stresses that "It is a good way to connect with your home! And, who knows, this is a key to get you back?"

He said that and still insists he can't find a way. However, one step closer, right? You sigh and look at the limited music that was summoned. Looking at the music choices, you laugh as you saw "Juno." You decide to chime in and remember how you performed it back in your own privacy.

"Have you ever tried this one?" You say in a very flirty tone as you strike a pose, similar to what Sabrina would do in her tour. Mortified, you saw someone at the door.

trey clover

being confident in your own privacy, you dance and be as sensual as you want. usually, you wouldn't. but hey, a bit fun never killed anyone? plus, the position you pulled was fairly tame. it was just you pushing your butt a bit more out there, which may have shown something...

you gasp as you realize trey was there, standing, mortified and red. he looked shocked as the song in the background still played. it came to the part where Sabrina declares she was "so fucking horny." you were still in that specific pose before you stood up apologizing. trey coughed and shook his head, trying to shake off the image of you being that sensual.

"the look in their eyes, oh sevens. and the way that pose with uh.." trey's thoughts grow frantic as he apologized and tried to close the door

"prefect! i'm so sorry! let me just... next time, maybe lock the door? that was.. quite the show." you can basically hear the smirk.

cater diamond

cater was vlogging on the way to the dorm and to your room. he was hearing how you sang from the hall, he was excited to catch you off guard with a video. he giggled at his plan and barged in, but as he barged in, you were posing with that flirty tone cooing out of your mouth.

he nearly dropped his phone and his mouth was agape. your pose was so perfectly tame and lewd, he couldn't help but loose some air. cater tried to cover his eyes and try to laugh it off

"dear sevens, not now. don't let my imagination do the rest!" cater begs in his mind as he tried to grab his phone and shuffle out the door.

"nice voice though, bestie! uhm... maybe learn to lock things? that wasn't really... uhm. ah! let me just edit this, don't worry i won't post it!"

leona kingscholar

leona was annoyed how he had to get out of his nap. however, your dorm was oddly very comfortable, and you invited him over. it won't hurt, right? he stalks the halls, annoyed how you didn't bother to see if he arrived.

hearing your footsteps, he heard some tunes and decided to open the door to your room. leona was about to complain when you both were caught in a stare down of a very explicit pose. you were quiet and tried to make yourself decent before

*slam* leona closed the door. he was appalled and a bit too invested in the pose you just did. his tail was swishing around and he tried to avoid the heat building up, "what a show" he thought

"if you're gonna invite me to do that, wine and dine me first, herbivore. as a prince, i expect better" he teased

vil schoenheit

vil was expecting that you'd remember his promise of pampering. as vil walked to your room, he was wondering why you haven't noticed the way he nagging. vil made sure his voice was heard.

imagine his horror when he bursts the door open and see such a vulgar display of yourself towards him, though he did have to give where credit is due. you performed well and... got the reaction you wanted.

"hmm. not bad, that did get a reaction from me. ah, i got bested once more" vil thought as you scramble to be more decent, vil's glare causing you to hurry up. but that didn't stop the song to continue playing.

"horny? potato, what are these songs? hm, but your performance... i have some strong words" vil said as he listened in, you blush and turned it off.

rook hunt

let's be honest, he was watching the whole performance. your invitation was just a signal of when he will arrive at your door. he notes each note and decided to watch the spectacular performance up close.

as rook bursts through your door, he was blushing at the fact he realized that the innuendos were becoming serious. he was shocked to see you in such a pose. but that pose!

"ah, such perfect angles. if only i could've captured this moment, what a waste!" he thinks as he tries to take in the view of your pose.

"ah! my dear prefect! what a show! and that pose, such grace and vulgarity! and what's this? you are willing to try it?" rook said with so much enthusiasm. you glare.

idia shroud

he was honestly just about to ask something but that question died when he entered the room. he was floored when all you did was something not even his idols would dare to do.

idia didn't know what to do but panic and yelp as you try to calm him down in case he'd faint (he was close to doing so). your pose was now ingrained in his mind, he can't remove how your eyes and...

"oh sevens! oh sevens! that was so?!! oh im... is it obvious?!" idia panics as he pulls down his hoodie before overheating and tripping to the door.

"stupid... you should've locked the door. now i forgot why am i even here and-" idia tried to push his hoodie and hide somewhere

malleus draconia

he was excited to see you as he heard how you were singing and performing, he found the first lyrics odd, but he was strolling with ease. malleus just wanted to check up on you, and the shock he felt when you were posing

at first, he tried to be reasonable. but as his ears cannot deceive him, and his eyes too. he was shocked and speechless and the way you were displayed. you gasp and realize you nearly flashed the strongest one among the student body.

"how do i tell my child of man the implications of their words and actions?" malleus worries as he felt the blush creep in at the awkward situation they were in. he coughed and offered some space as he stood in front of the door

"does that mean... no. but ah, i can't have such feelings just yet. what enchantment has my dear done?" malleus said embarrassed.

lilia vanrouge

lilia was like rook, he saw it from a mile away. however, unlike rook, he was willing to not barge in. lilia calmly stalked you and appeared upside by your door. however, he was shocked and nearly fell at the display.

that pose and flirty tone was enough to cause such scandals. you yelp and try to stand up as quick as you can as lilia giggled at the notion. he went down on the ground and tried to calm your frantic explanations, humming alongside the song. he found it good.

"oh! that is quite a display. hmm, do they know how scandalous they are being right now? and quite the nice melody over something so raunchy." lilia giggled as he smirked as the song played on.

"quite the scandal, dear. keep the door locked next time, fufufufu~ though, i must say, the song is quite a treat. i would love to learn it on my guitar, i can hear that guitar solo after~"

[ramp-it-up]

Peach, Part I

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky, not for love, but because it's the right thing to do. You are a struggling dance teacher in Atlanta. And what is the quickest way for a dancer to make money in the A? When Steve meets you at one of his businesses and lies to you about a myriad of things, It becomes a sticky situation, especially since the attraction you feel for one another is so sweet.

Word count: 3.5 K

Pairing: Bartender/ Art Dealer (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: Okay. I can explain. Yes, I got carried away with this one too, but have you met me? It's what I do. I feel like we're gonna get a little more angsty with these two, but the payoff might be good. Idk, I just hope that you like it!

This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and comes a couple of months before the Bucky Barnes fic You've Got me Thinking. I'm so done for with Steve and Peach. The next part is coming by the end of the week! ☺️

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, angst, financial difficulties, cute tiny dancers, familial feelings, feelings about besties being in love (third wheel?), Steve the businessman, shady people, Steve lying, Steve using an alias, a lil bit of voyuerism (involving dancing) exotic dance life; pole dancing, wild thoughts, flirting, hand holding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

———

Late October

Steve Rogers was frustrated.

His best friend Bucky had recently fallen in love, and instantly Steve’s life became an urgent race to divest their Art business of illegal ties so that Bucky could begin his life with her.

Together with Sam and Natasha, Bucky and Steve ran an art import business in New York which was extremely lucrative.

Except that it wasn’t really.

“Just wait until I see you tonight, Frumoasă….”

Steve glanced over at his bestie, who was turned away and whispering into the phone with a giant grin on his face. Steve shook his head and looked out of the window of the car that Nico was driving uptown to a meeting. He rolled his eyes.

More phone sex with Bucky and his girl. Great.

“Behave. Or I will make you…”

Steve cleared his throat as he listened to the suggestive chatter and shifted in his seat. Bucky and his girl were burning hot.

All of the time.

It seemed impossible.

“I love you too, Frumoasă.”

Steve needed what Bucky had in his life. At first he thought he was jealous. His best friend had an extremely desirable woman who made him drop the player lifestyle the instant he saw her. It took Steve a minute, but he realized he wasn’t jealous of either Bucky or his girl; Steve was jealous of the feeling.

When Bucky ended the call, Steve tried to continue the conversation they were having.

“Everything good?”

Bucky smirked, a look on his face that Steve hadn’t seen before his best friend met the love of his life just weeks earlier. It was an amazing transformation.

“Everything is great.”

Then Bucky frowned.

“Except this timeline. We need to get clean, Steve. Faster. We’re going to have to travel a little more before the end of the year.”

The blond raked his hand over his face.

“Bucky, I get it. Believe me I do. But we’ve already tripled the rate of divestiture. Are we to quadruple it? Is it really worth the money we’ll lose?”

“I don’t think you get it at all, Steve. But you will one day. “

Bucky gave Steve a look that made him roll his eyes again.

“I’ll take the losses, Steve. You and Sam and Nat will get the agreed upon cut.”

Bucky gazed out of the window.

“Billionaires shouldn’t exist anyway.”

Steve sighed.

“We all agreed to speed up, and we all agreed to an equal split of the profits. And losses.”

The two men shared a knowing look. Steve assented.

“Okay, Buck. Let’s get Sam and Nat on the phone; I just want it all to be square. You know they want this just as much as you and I do.”

Bucky smiled at his friend, the oldest he had in the world.

—--

Early November

You smiled at little Amina, who was trying her best on her pliés. Although she was only four years old she had a determination like no other. Her little tongue was poked out and there was a scowl on her adorable little face.

You came over and smooth her brow and took her tiny chin in your hand.

“Relax, Mina. If you’re not having any fun, it’s not worth it. Don’t force it, sweetie.”

Amina smiled back at you and began to giggle, relaxing into the poses.

“See there! It’s better already!”

You widened your smile and spoke to the entire class of 12 little 4-6 year olds. They were adorable in their uniform black leotards and pink tights.

“Remember dancers, hard work and lots of fun, that’s our motto. And one, two, three….”

Amina’s mom, Michelle, came up to you after class.

“Here’s what I have Ms. YLN.”

She deposited half of what monthly tuition was into your hand and held it for a beat. Her eyes were watery but she had a brave smile on as she glanced over at Amina giggling with her classmates. Then, she lowered her voice.

“I’m afraid this will have to be her last class. I just can’t come up with the funds… She loves it so much… We’ll miss seeing you every week.”

Your heart shredded. You made a knee jerk decision.

“It doesn’t have to be her last class. I will send you the paperwork for the scholarship. I’ll see you both next week.”

You smiled and gave both her and Amina a hug as she skipped over to you.

“Thank you, Ms. YLN. So much!”

You smiled and nodded as they left the dance studio that you rented for your weekly classes. The tuition you collected barely allowed you to pay the rent, much less compensate you for your time and preparation.

But you were determined to help these little ones with their dreams. And to see your own to fruition.

—--

“You can’t keep letting these people put dance classes on layaway, Cousin.”

Heat bloomed in your chest. Your favorite cousin, who had everything she ever wanted, whenever she wanted, growing up was joking about layaway. Even now, she had an insanely hot, wealthy guy eating her up. Literally.

“Okay, you know what…”

“Calm down. I will finance little Amina Rickard’s monthly tuition before you cuss me out. You know I love you. And you knew sending me that picture of her was gonna work. Making my ovaries explode.”

You smiled, almost choked up.This was your cousin’s second scholarship student and your family’s 8th overall. You were really blessed, even though things hadn’t come easy for you.

“I think the guy who is trying to breed you all over the place is making your ovaries explode, but okay.”

“Y/N, YLN! I am a demure, respectable–”

“You’re a whore for that man and we both know it.”

“Girl, you ain’t lyingggg! Shit, he’s calling me now…”

“Go get that nut video.”

Your cousin laughed at you.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, and thanks, Sistercuz.”

“Bye Sweetie. Have a good night.”

Easy for her to say.

—---

The jet was delayed in New York because of snow and Steve was late getting started. After he landed and was sat in Atlanta traffic, he was reminded that he wanted to be in and out of the city, preferably in two days, and on to Kansas City as soon as possible.

Atlanta could be a fun time, with many many beautiful women, but he was on demon time. He needed to get rid of the criminal enterprises in the company. Quickly.

The holdings in Atlanta consisted of a handful of exotic dancing establishments. And the strip clubs in Atlanta were known to be dens of considerable iniquity. He was sure it would be easy to make a decision to offload the five clubs in the area.

On the second day, Steve had quickly turned a profit on the first four clubs, borderline dives with mid-level girls. The drugs and prostitution levels were off the charts and there were plenty of shady characters who wanted a chance at those businesses.

He’d saved ‘the best for last,’ a supposedly upscale club called Regine in midtown.

It was supposed to be a classy place, so Steve decided to just drop in to check it out before making a decision. He arrived a little over an hour before opening, stepping into the kitchen from the back alley where he parked his rental car.

“Hey, yo! You the new bartender? I told you to be here at 2, not 2:45.”

The salutation came from a huge guy with a large belly and lots of teeth. He’d be scary to anyone else. This must be Sully. Steve recognized him from the file. He decided to play along, glad that he’d dressed down in a flannel and jeans.

“Yeah, well. Traffic.”

Steve thought it best to say as little as possible. That way he would get the most information.

“Shit, you don’t have to tell me. I have to drive here from Alpharetta every day. The 400 is hell every morning.”

“We need someone with some experience. Someone willing to be paid in cash tips, nothing on the books. You look like you’d prefer that.”

Steve stared Sully down, not debunking the myths the latter was making up in his mind. Sully kept talking.

“Also may need to do some security. We get into some… situations up in here.”

Sully took in Steve’s stature and unwavering stare.

“A man of few words I see, Looks like you’ll do. Can you start tonight?”

Steve couldn’t believe this joker, hiring someone off the street.

“Sure.”

This place was not looking like a keeper, Steve thought as he followed Sully for a tour. In daylight, it was passable; in the dark with the right lighting, he was sure it looked swank. Sully told him how to water down the liquor and where the firearms were kept. When his 30 minute orientation was over, Sully left Steve to set up the bar on his own.

“Cory just called in, but Mike will be in later. You should make a lot of tips, our girls are top notch.

Steve just nodded, his hands on his hips as he calculated how much Sully must be skimming off the liquor alone as the latter walked away. Sully came back to the bar and asked a pertinent question.

“Oh yeah. What's ya name?”

“Grant Stevens.”

A little white lie would never hurt anyone, especially if this situation got sticky.

“Aight. Nice to meet you Grant. Tips are not the only perks of this job, if you know what I mean.”

Steve shuddered as Sully lumbered away. He wanted no parts of perks.

—-

A couple of hours later, the girls started arriving, most of them greeting Steve with a polite hello, some skipping it with a grimace, some in their phones, and one, you, listening to music and vibing out. You were different than the weary women who’d passed by ahead of you.

Steve was struck at the serene look on your face as you entered the establishment, braids in a bun on top of your head, eyes closed and your mouth pursed as you hummed and bopped your head to the music, bag slung across your back.

Your skin was dewey, free of make up and those lips, well those lips were what made him do a double take. Your neck was graceful and the cropped hoodie you were wearing did not do a thing to hide your full curves, smooth skin, round tits, long legs, and all that ass. Steve’s palms began to itch.

Steve was convinced that the strip of stomach showing between your hoodie and your sweats was more alluring than any stripper outfit could be, because at the sight of it he broke out in a sweat. Your body was calling him to touch, but he didn’t even know who you were.

He was about to find out however.

Steve stepped to the edge of the bar, ready to give a greeting, but you just bopped on by, oblivious and making your way to the dressing room. It bruised his ego, but the sting was soothed by the sight of you walking away. He stood there for a full minute in shock, but then he shook his head and went behind the bar to drink some water.

“Get it together old man,” Steve grumbled to himself as he tried to cool down. He set about talking to the employees in the kitchen to get more intel on this establishment. The sooner he had enough info, the sooner he could put this one to bed and get away from distractions.

Like you.

—--

“Did you see the new bartender? Just put him on stage, I’ll climb him like the pole.”

"Dat azzz tho."

“Right? And did you see those eyes, those lips? Pretty fly for a…”

You frowned at the chatter around you. You really had to pay more attention to your surroundings. You didn’t notice any new bartender. But knowing these ladies’ taste in romantic partners, you’d bet he was overrated.

You sighed and put your earbuds back in; there was no time for nonsense. You had to warm up properly to protect your instrument: your body.

You looked down at your watch and saw that the doors would open in 45 minutes. You had 20 minutes to go and warm up and still have time to get changed. You sat down to trade your Jordans for your stilettos and make your way out to the pole.

—-

When Steve walked back to the bar from the kitchen, there you were on stage under the lights in a crop top and short shorts.

Again, you were oblivious to him.

Steve, on the other hand, was undone.

Your skin glowed everywhere,and he noticed that you didn’t seem to have augmented anatomy, not that there was anything wrong with that. He just knew that if he had a handful of that ass, it would be real. He stepped behind the bar to watch you, a convenient barrier between you and Steve’s stiffening cock.

As he watched, you moved slowly, the motion elegant and mesmerizing in the six-inch heels you were wearing which elongated your beautiful legs.

Lost in your own world under the lights, you looked ethereal, a goddess.

You approached the pole and held on with one hand, walking around and around it seductively, hopping a few times in the heels, making your ass shake with the impact. It was hypnotizing, watching your strong arms and legs, especially those legs, grip the pole as you worked your body around it.

Then, you let your hands slide down the pole, causing you to bend over and showcase your luscious ass and thighs. Steve imagined that they tasted delicious.

Next, you straightened up and walked around until the pole was nestled in between your asscheeks, widened your legs and undulated on it. Never in Steve’s life had he wanted to be an inanimate object until now.

When you turned around and body rolled on the pole was when Steve had to grip the bar. And when you slowly twirled down to the floor and went spread eagle, beautiful legs in the air, was when he felt like vaulting over the marble bar to get to you.

You rolled over onto your knees and started undulating, then started crawling toward the end of the stage closest to him.

Steve knew the exact moment you noticed him.

You froze, looking like a startled feline. Squinting, you moved your hand over your eyes so you could see beyond the lights, then pulled out your earbuds and got to your feet effortlessly.

—--

You thought you were alone with your music and your fantasy of dance that got you in the headspace to strip for strangers. You didn’t notice anyone out in the club until you were almost done with your warm up routine, when, as you looked up from the floor you saw a large figure behind the bar.

You froze, a moment of something like fear, but more like a thrill, passing through you.

As your eyes adjusted to the area beyond the lights, you saw a tall, muscular body and longish hair. This must be the new bartender. You got up and approached him, trying to analyze your feelings about the situation before you addressed the man.

As you got closer, your temperature seemed to rise. Must’ve been the workout.

His warm denim blue eyes were gorgeous and that dark blond hair and reddish beard were thick and lustrous. Although the beard was a bit wild and wooly, there was no hiding the pink, full lips under that straight, masculine nose.

His body was lithe, but muscular, and you sensed his power. You bet he could pick you up and hold you upside down as that beard scratched the inside of your thighs to lick your…

Wait. Where did that thought come from?

You were objectifying your new co-worker.

That would never, never do. You vowed to be professional.

—-

Steve straightened up as you came near. The look on your face was hard to read. Whatever it was you were feeling, Steve felt like an intruder.

Even though he had the deed to this building in his bag.

“Hi.”

It was all he could think of to say as you stood before him because his mind was empty. With you up close, the only thing he could do was stare. Your scent was like a drug and your eyes were…everything. He gazed into them, a myriad of colors that were holding him captive.

Then that mouth started moving.

“Hello. You the new barback?”

“What?”

Steve leaned closer, pretending he couldn’t hear you, just to get nearer. It wasn’t entirely game; he was quite distracted by you.

The side of your mouth curled up in a sardonic smile and a sudden, funny feeling spread throughout his stomach. He gave you a side grin in response to your side eye.

“Are… you… new… here?”

“Yes, I am working in the bar. I’m Steve…ns. Grant Stevens.”

You extended your hand to him.

“Nice to meet you Grant. I’m Peach.”

“Peach?”

The word gave Steve visions. He stared at your lips, thought of your ass, imagined your juices dripping down his chin.

“Yes,” You smirked. “Peach.”

Steve was speechless.

“It’s nice to meet you, Grant. Since you’re new here and probably haven’t gotten paid yet, I won’t charge you for the private dance.”

Steve���s mind was moving slowly. Like he was drugged.

“That’s a stage name, right?”

Peach. It had to be a stage name. Yet it suited you so perfectly. Suddenly he wanted a taste test.

Steve licked his lips and your eyes followed his movement as you proceeded to not answer him. He unconsciously started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb and gave you his full smile.

You grew even warmer, from the friction of course, and blinked at him as if you were facing sunlight as you pulled your hand from his.

“Forgive me. I’m sorry for eavesdropping? Spying? Watching you dance without you knowing? Don’t know what to call it. But beg your pardon.”

—--

“Don’t beg.”

‘Dont beg here,’ is what you wanted to say.

You don’t know why the vision of this man on his knees for you flashed in your mind. Maybe it was his velvet baritone, or maybe it was the feel of his rough hand on yours that got you all bothered, as if his smile hadn’t already made you wet.

He was tall, a good head taller than you, even in your heels, and a looming presence. In a good way. You wanted to be enveloped by him. But you didn’t even know him.

You had to get it together, but the scent of his cologne was making your mouth water to taste him. You were weak for this man.

You hated this feeling, didn’t have time for it, yet you weren’t ready to end the conversation just yet.

“I mean, I felt some kinda way when I first saw you here, but hell, I don’t own this place. And neither do you.”

For some reason, Grant’s face did a thing. A weird frowny sad thing, but you barrelled ahead.

“You’re a worker, just like me, and you were just getting your work station ready, just like me. Solidarity, man.”

“Yeah. Solidarity.”

Grant cleared his throat.

“Great moves up there.”

—---

You grinned, blinding him this time. Steve’s discomfort that his ‘little white lie’ was spreading to you dissipated when you smiled at him.

He just knew that your smile could heal any ailment, if he were allowed regular doses of it for the rest of his life.

“Thanks, friend. They make me a lot of money three nights a week.”

You pushed off the bar and started walking back to the locker room as Steve chuckled at your immediate friend zoning.

“And if you like that, stick around for the show.”

You threw a look over your shoulder that made him want to follow you anywhere.

As he watched you leave again, Steve Rogers knew that he needed a little more time to figure this place out.

—----

Steve was concluding that Regine wasn’t the worst, but nothing extraordinary. The women in makeup and costume looked good and the tips were flowing; he could see how this was a money maker.

He had his suspicions about Sully, but he still had little evidence about the quality of the place. He needed to see all of the dancers.

Steve wanted to see you dance. For research purposes.

He was busy at the bar all night, so much so that Sully had to come by and made four money drops. This place made much more profit than was being reported, that much was clear as Steve’s eyes followed Sully back to his office with the cash.

He was about to follow him when you brushed by him, ensconced all in white.

“Excuse me. Gotta get to the stage, Comrade.”

Your wink distracted him from the fact that you were wearing a ten gallon cowboy hat and boots.

Wait.

Were those spurs?

Mesmerized, Steve leaned on the bar to watch your show.

The stage went dark while the guitars started. There were whistles and stomps from the floor, cries of Yesss! Peach! Go Peach! Ride me Cowgirl, and Pour some liquor on me honey tooooo! reverberated in the room.

These were grown men and women.

And by the time the first line of the song played, “This ain’t Texas…”, the crowd was in a frenzy and in the palm of your hand.

Steve suddenly understood the customer’s enthusiasm.

The way you moved on the stage, your props, the way your body captivated everyone in the place was astounding.

You were brilliant.

You were what made Regine extra ordinary.

—---

You were bone tired by the time 3 am rolled around and the club closed after two full sets. You’d made $700 dollars in tips, not bad for a Tuesday, considering that you didn’t do any private dances. You were yawning as you passed the bar and Steve stopped you to say goodnight.

“Hey Peach. You were fantastic tonight.”

He shook his head.

“It was the first time I’ve seen that prop used on a dance club stage…”

Steve’s eyes glazed over as he replayed the image of you spinning on the pole with the stick of the hobby horse between your legs.

You spared the handsome blond an appreciative glance and a tired laugh.

“Thanks, Grant. I try to be original. Hope you did well tonight.”

“I did pretty good.”

Steve smiled as he would if $500 dollars excited him.

“Hey, one of the customers at the bar told me to give you this. Said he was shy?”

You looked at him warily as you took the envelope. Inside was $1000.

“Holy Shit!”

You looked up and covered your mouth, your girlish piety endearing to Steve, who chuckled at you.

“There’s a stack in here.”

“Whoa! Cool.”

Steve tried to look as if he didn’t know there were exactly 10 hundred dollar bills that he’d put in there.

“Guy must really like you. Could it be a regular? A special friend? An ex perhaps?”

Steve was not being very subtle, but he didn’t have much time. You were smirking at him in that way again.

“My regulars are regular shmegular degular, and cannot afford to tip me one thousand dollars. Must be a high roller rolling through the A.”

You smiled, but decided you needed to be tough. You straightened and gave the most menacing glare you could manage.

Steve thought you were adorable.

“I don’t know who would have done this. I don’t have any special friends or exes in this city. I’m all work. NO play. In any way. Especially at work.”

You hoped your hard look worked. Grant was certainly watching your mouth as you spoke, so he must have caught what you meant, right? When his eyes flicked up to yours, your knees got weak so you decided you should go.

“‘Night, Grant.”

You turned and walked out of Regine, a certain warmth in your chest. Must the $1700 in your bag. Or the chicken wings. Nothing to do with the beautiful man you knew was watching until you got into your car.

Steve made sure that you drove off safely, and then followed you home as he thought about how efficiently you’d curved him.

Once you went into your apartment, Steve called Bucky and told him that he needed a little more time on this enterprise.

This one was a peach.

-----

Okay. I hope that you liked it! Let me know by reblogging please!

[vhswolf]

A Lover winter break | Carlos Sainz x Reader x Lando Norris x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings: none

Face claim: Kendall Jenner

Lovererayn

Liked by vhsbunny, londongirl and others

Tagged: vhsbunny, londongirl

Lovererayn Oh, to be somewhere hot in the winter 💛

View all the comments

Vhsbunny Such a great idea!

Londongirl I'm here for it 💜

User2 Where to?

User1 never saw anyone that loves the beach as much as her

Lovererayn

Liked by vhsbunny, londongirl, danielricciardo and others

Lovererayn To all the Aussies who flooded my DM's asking for 818, I have the pleasure to say: @/drink818 is in Aussie territory!!!

Some Aussie in the chat? 👀

View all comments

Danielricciardo 🙋🏻‍♂️

User6 DANIEL?

User55 The girl collected the best Aussie ever

→ user81 best ever? Please, let's not forget about Oscar

→ user3 Danny still is the best, sorry

Vhsbunny I love to see my sis getting richer everyday

Londongirl God bless Australia

Vhsbunny

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Tagged: lovererayn

Vhsbunny Is the Aussie launch of the BEST tequila in the world for me

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Lovererayn I'm sooooo happy 💛

User55 the it girl sis ❤️

User6 FINALLY I CAN HAVE YN'S TEQUILA!

User9 Best tequila? I will be judging that

Londongirl

Liked by vhsbunny, lovererayn and others

Tagged: lovererayn, itstate

Londongirl Some Aussie wants good tequila?

View all comments

User12 I WANT! Well, I'm not Aussie, but I want...

User99 I'm in to it!

Lovererayn I know one that wants! 👀

→ londongirl 👀

→ vhsbunny 👀

→ itstate 👀

→ landonorris 👀

→ landonorris I don't know what we're doing, but I want to feel included

→ lovererayn You're doing great, sweetie

→ user4 sweetie? 👀

User3 yes, please

F1gossip

F1gossip This weekend we had the launch of @/lovererayn tequila @/drink818 on Australia, and there were some familiar faces. @/danielricciardo and @/landonorris our favourites party boys (they probably got wasted by the end of it) were there!

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User4 where you least expect, Lando will be there!

User2 Laniel ❤️

User8 I never thought this was going to be the place I would see a Lando + Daniel reunion

User88 Thanks @/lovererayn for the christmas gift!

Carlossainz55

Liked by lovererayn, danielricciardo, landonorris and others

Carlossainz55 Only sponsored drinks on the boat please

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User55 ok? So... What?

Danielricciardo I prefer the tequila

→ landonorris Me too

User14 so Carlos, Lando, Daniel and yn are spending the winter break on Australia? Noted

Lovererayn you can do a hell lot of drinks with tequila, what can you do with beer? 🤷🏻‍♀️

→ user55 was Carlos on the launch party too?

→ lovererayn Yes!

Danielricciardo

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Danielricciardo Nice summer days ☀️

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Landonorris why you never called me to spend the winter break in Australia? I'll never forgive you, mate

→ danielricciardo oops?

User33 is this a @/drink818 infestation, or is @/lovererayn everywhere?

→user44 I just think they're all together

Carlossainz55 Australia it's really as good this time of the year

Lovererayn ❤️

Lando.jpg

Liked by lovererayn, danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and others

Tagged danielricciardo, carlossainz55, lovererayn, vhsbunny, londongirl, itstate

Lando.jpg Girls trip to Australia 🦘

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Danielricciardo Girls trip?

→ lando.jpg I see you as a girl

→ danielricciardo ??

Itstate it's too many pretty people to one beach

→ vhsbunny that's the fun of it

Londongirl BEST LAST DAY ❤️

User55 what?

User6 @/lovererayn bringing together the besties and the hot guys is everything to me

Lovererayn

Liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and others

Lovererayn My girls went home, I already miss them! But I have great company ❤️

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User66 yn is not letting the trio go omg

User55 what? Now they're alone? Wtf?

User11 things are getting weird...

Danielricciardo Yes, I'm great 👍🏻

→ landonorris I'm better than you

→ carlossainz55 we all know how is the best one

→ danielricciardo @/lovererayn ok, choose

→ lovererayn Like you don't love each other... Please boys, you're all great 💛

User92 This friendship is actually cute

→ user82 is it tho?

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ���‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

Taglist: @smokememories

[eye-may]

Could you do Etcetera and Electra now pretty please? The besties

Your drawing style is so cool and pleasant to look at💕💕

Also, Happy Christmas and new year!✨🐱

ty for the kind words! I hope yall had a good holiday!

disclaimer, this is my first time trying to draw etcetera and electra so Im sure my designs for them will change in the future, but that's par for the course with me lol. I draw mistoffelees probably the most and even now I wouldn't say that I'm 100% on even his design. usually when I go about transliterating the costumes I'm looking at the napier concepts and the '98 designs (if only bc they're the easiest to find clear images of lol) but sometimes those leotards and wigs are damn hard to recreate in my style lmaooo

not that anybody asked about all that lmao ANYWAY,

in terms of backstories, these are another pair of kittens that I'm not too decisive about yet lol. I can at least start with surmising that neither were, or are, domesticated, as neither wear collars. I entertained the idea of them knowing each other prior to arriving at the Junkyard, but now I'm leaning more towards them actually having met there instead.

I see Etcetera as very outgoing, sociable, trusting, and so on, with humans and cats alike, so I'm actually thinking that maybe she had been briefly domesticated, but then was abandoned for whatever reason by her humans, maybe discarded somewhere near the entrance to the Yard. I feel like she would have naively thought it was all a game, taking a while to realize that she was left purposefully and her humans weren't coming back from her, nor where they looking to be found. Probably one of the older cats would have spotted her and invited led her back to the Yard to be looked after.

For Electra...personality-wise, I see her as similar in personality/energy levels to Ectetera, but kind of "edgier." She's more bold, brash, and curious, whereas Ectetera is persuadable, impressionable, credulous, etc (heh). she's a little goofier and lighthearted. that's not to say that Electra isn't also fun and goofy, but I think she's more of a "thinker," and more independent. Electra may be a more itinerant member of the tribe, despite being so young. Nobody, after all, is a prisoner there; cats and kittens alike can come and go as they see fit, and Electra is a little too insatiably curious, and a little too courageous, to be confined.

Her backstory is ehhhh...very nebulous to me yet. It's probably something similar to Pouncival and Plato; born to a stray, maybe in an alley, and eventually ended up separated from her family. I'm going to have to think more extensively about where she comes from and how she ended up a member of the tribe. Honestly her and Etcetera both lol.

I think Electra, sort of like Tumblebrutus, is likely to be a ringleader when it comes to mischief among kittens in and out of the Junkyard. Tumbebrutus, though, is always looking to impress and appear tough, whereas Electra operates under no such pretenses; she doesn't care nearly as much about what others think of her. Her concerns lie more in the greater unknown. She's the epitome of a curious feline, wanting to know more about the world, about history, and about what it means to be a Jellicle Cat. Others like Victoria and Jemima more often intuit such things, more likely to allow themselves to be governed by the influences of the Jellicle Moon and their own varieties of mysticism. Electra is a bit more literal, more salt-of-the-earth. She usually convinces the other kittens to accompany her on her sojourns and escapades, but she'll go it alone too; I'd peg her as one of the most organically independent kittens...and also, I think, one of the most leaderly and protective.

She gets along with everyone, but is most often accompanied probably by Etcetera. She probably butts heads the most with Tumblebrutus, although the two of them can be quite a pair when it comes to working together towards a common goal.

Etcetera is less so those things, although she's sort of "daring" like Electra, insofar as she's not prone to fits of pragmatism that make her cower in the face of adversity, real or perceived. she's simply all to happy to be along for the ride. extroverted and containing boundless energy, she feels the need to enjoy the company of others and to be the center of attention almost constantly. I think her and Electra get along so well partly because Electra is so restless, and Etcetera lacks inhibitions, all too happy to be included; she's pretty much the only one of the younger cats who will never play devil's advocate, who will never express doubt, who will never try to talk another cat out of an impending adventure. her only reservation, really, may be getting in trouble with the older cats; but it's not too hard to talk her into disregarding such concerns.

More meaningfully, I think the two go well together because of their polarized approaches to viewing the world and construing more difficult lessons and concepts. Electra is prone to getting too much in her head and overthinking; so it's a good thing Etcetera is there to dumb things down for her, to simplify those more challenging queries in a way that is comfortingly sensible and potent. I.e., when Electra finds herself pondering why is such-and-such right? Etcetera will remind her that right is right, and there's no need to look further. Or in other words, she reminds Electra that sometimes it's time to mind your heart and your intuition, rather than get tangled up in endless cerebral complexities. in her view, sometimes you truly don't need all the answers.

all together the two of them enjoy a very balanced and close friendship, and are jointly the source of a lot of energy and mischief that takes place in the Yard!

[jeahreading]

Year-End Moots Post

@glorfie394 - Honestly, i don't think i need to say much other than the fact that you were probably one of the very few people I consider my best friends irl. We've been talking less and less and I really hope we can talk more this year.

@1indigoisles You used to say that I shouldn't consider you a good friend because we haven't even known each other for a year. Well now it's been more than that, so we should also be really good friends, while we didn't talk for most of this year that's only because of academics and I can't promise it won't happen again but I really REALLY want to talk more with you, even if I take time responding once in a while.

@pb-dot - quoted from you, last year "You and I seem to mostly pass as ships in the night, but sometimes the distant sound of a foghorn can be just the thing, to torture the metaphor a little" Honestly you were the first blog I sent an ask to and your clockwork boy amazed me to bits, we're still ships but maybe not so much in the night anymore, dusk?

@mycatisatool - I still remember how we talked last year just a few days before New Year's and how I ranted to you, a random person. Talking to you has never and will never feel foreign, I hope we remain friends or even acquaintances for many more years to come!

@joytri I'm not sure what I should say except the fact that YOU'RE SO AESTHETIC, omg I wish i was even close to how pretty your blog and posts are dffsnbsjdhjf I so wish i could by your stationary T_T.

@chichihuahua1413 - MY SISTER FROM ANOTHER MISTER, nobody can convince me that we AREN'T twins separated at birth. UGH, I wish I had come to that gathering it's been SO LONG SINCE WE'VE MET. Wow, can you believe we've known each other for 9 years now?? seems absolutely surreal.

@clarablightt - we met unexpectedly and I am SO glad we did, we didn't talk much at first but now when we do I am happy the whole day. Sometimes we talk for hours and it feels like minutes, I wish you all the happiness in this world and someday we're gonna meet istg

@owlsandwich - O yem GEE, even though many years separate us talking to you has never felt that way, you talk with a young soul if that makes any sense, and of course, you being absolutely adorable doesn't help. Heard somewhere that pets represent their owner and seeing Miss Zero, you both seem carefree and loving. I hope you have the best year ever!!!!

@fangirlghost-19 - Found your blog in the most detective way possible hihi, but so glad I did, you're absolutely amazing and you just have that pizzazz not everyone has!

@shua-f4lmings Started talking to you because I really wanted to talk to someone who likes skz, no regrets, I am in LOVE with your aesthetic, that blog change was ICONIQUE.

@baxieblur-turnip Heyyyyyyyy we met on chance and babe that hexagone is hexagoning so hard, we need to talk more frrr

@ek-ajnabee-haseena hamari jugalbandi honi zaruurat hain!! we should sing because i just know it's gonna be so freaking good!

@hxart-of-thx-ocxan - bestie so aesthetic i quacking in my boots, looking at your blogs makes me want to float away on a boat into the ocean and never look back again 🤤🤤

@book-girl4evaaa - I'm pretty sure we first talked because I thought you were desi but you are AMAZING all the same, seeing you talk about the heather is adorable asf and you're fashion sense makes me jealous 😭😭

@dinnerbug - saw you on my side and you actually genuinely intrigued me so much I followed you and honestly you are one of my most curious mutuals. I'm pretty sure I once sent an ask to you telling you to drink less coca cola lmaoo

@zeherili-ankhein - CHINIIII!!!!!! top 3 best persons i've met on this app fr, the mark of true and honest friendship is that we KNOW we disagree on many things but that does NOT stop us from being such close friends, i don't think you realise how badly i want to be irl friends with you istg 😭😭

@no--net - If someone asked me one thing I wanted for you, I'd wish you could understand bangla, i just know I would recommend SO MANY feluda and byomkesh bakshi. 😫😫

@paloma-ascends-into-hellfire - I don't quite remember why we started following each other but I glad we did all the same, my first thought seeing you was literally that one song by Paris Paloma, solely because of the name, which btw hold you high HIGH in my mind!! Wish you the absolute BEST year ahead!

@anonymouse-is-here We haven't talked much but YOU'RE SO ADORABLE!!!! And also your blog is just 🤌🤌

@im-on-crack-send-help CHOTIIII!!!! you're like the sister i never had and i will kill to have 😀🔪. You should really be on less crack and more happiness cuz you deserve it :D. Also beware at night because I will come to you house to steal your eyes and hair and wardrobe, beware.......... ily uwu<3

@telugu-girl-13 - Honestly you're going to be the 2nd reason why I read pjo. You're blog gives me old b&w vibes and it's just top tier imo <3 adorable kwnekjfrnkjnr

@inhachoi0901 - we need to meet more often cuz YASS talking to you is so freaking fun, we also need to like sing together!<33(you also need to tell what shampoo you use)

@mi-stress-of-chaos - you're blog 🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇 teach me how to be aeshtetic like you sensei. Also, I'm grabbing a bucket and taking the stress far FAR away from you. you need a vacation i swear<33

@shadowseductress - omg you're like really beautiful, like beautiful like I'm gonna start singing apsara aali and then promptly trip and fall on my face, you're so badass ngl i kinda idolize you 😀😀😭.

@shinchansbitch - you need a shiro in your life, one that talks fr. You're weird but like the really fucking awesome kinda weird. I need tips from you, we need to sit down and you need to tell me your autobiography babe.

@no-idea-where-i-am-lost - Oh my god you're like dangerously adorable, like i need to put orange traffic cones around you, when you and @wulfricnavy get married invite me to the wedding, ashirvaad aur atta dono deke jaoongi.(cutie pie cutie cutie pieeeeeeeeeeeeee)

@natures-marvel - Solving that scavenger hunt with you was so freaking fun!!!!! you're amazing to to talk to and I think we have an mutual want for episode three 😭😭😭

@ineffable-bastard - You're so cool omg, LOVE that fact that your hair always a different colour and please NEVER stop tagging me you're like my no.1 source of tag games and tag games are a straight path to love <33

@hellincarnation - honestly in terms of you, i just don't know what to say, you are kind, you are sweet, you care, you are cute and adorable and with just the correct amount of spice, you're like god's perfect recipe, we met late in the year but it's like we've knows each other for years, getting to know you made ,my year infinitely better and holy shit i just want to minimize you put you in a jar and carry you around with me everywhere, you're an A+ dipshit but also a brother, please take care of yourself and keep showing up so that we can fight more.<333

@mireyaaaaaaaaa - you're not just a ray of sunshine you're the whole freaking sun, you're like and endless energy reserve(stop hogging all the energy give us peasants some!!), you love book and I love book, and now I love you<333. Let's interact more this next year, and all the very best for your 10th you will do well I just know it!!

@fujimomozane - I'm pretty sure we haven't talked yet but, you're always there, for that I thank you(psst you afk art gives me life<33)

@your-reluctant-optimist - you, I'm gonna put you in a little terrarium and I'm going to keep your pocket sized everything in my pocket<3333333333333333

@randomx123 - Dada !! Your art is just *chef's kiss 🤌🤌🤌* and the durga pujo at your house is "bhalobasha", this year we didn't talk very much but whenever you're on my dash I always get happy :D. Don't worry shob kichu bhalo jabe, relax and keep doing what you think is best 😁😁.

@hj-lives-on - yo! i don't think we've talked about anything relevant lmao, but i will say good music taste and let's like, talk about things that are...normal :D

@lyrebirb - You are ADORABLE period. i need to know more about you i swear you are utterly fascinating, we should 100% talk more please!!!<3

@androgynous-bhajipav - i can't believe we became such good friends in this short time!?? Payneland brought together and our dymanic kept us together<33

@mersinia - Us meeting was the best coincidence of this year lmao, the amount of tumblr things we have in common is baffling, we REALLY need to talk more.

@shubhadeep385 - Gave me gangster vibes from the beginning and turns out i was right 😂. But you're also an older brother, like fr. In the proper sense lmao, you told me to never trust boys and also told me the boy I have a crush on is *chomu*, if this isn't proper bhai behaviour i dunno what is. Take care of yourself next bochor, I'm always there 😁😁.

@sittininthepoopchair - I also saw you on my side blog and your adorable ass dad vibes were just too adorable for me to ignore. I might not be your target or comfortable audience but you're absolutely amazing and Seeing you talk about your kids always has been smiling <3.

I'm soo sorry if I missed anyone, but if you are someone I missed just know I love you I love your blog you are adorable as fuck and HAVE THE BEST NEW YEAR EVER!!!!!<3333333

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!

[ice-creamforbreakfast]

My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024🎉

Thank you to @surely-sims and @lostinsixam for tagging me 🥰

This was a bit of a wild year, so there were gaps in my simming activities, but I still got up to the usual chaos!

Tagging @obigem, @simmingnate, @eljeebee, @gilded-ghosts, @melbrewer367 and anyone else who wants to take part!

January

Starting off with Aria and Ryozo's wedding. It wasn't meant to happen, but every time I had plans to throw a spanner in the works, his little face stopped me. Of course Aria wore a pink, sequin jumpsuit.

When Elio met Allan. Aria, ever the social climber, invited Allan and his mum over to be neighbourly/nosey and Allan's first impression of Elio was less than enthusiastic. They later bonded over being scouts weirdos.

February

I started a BACC challenge and absolutely loved it, then my ADHD brain kicked in and I got very confused and it became too stressful to follow the rules 🤣 I may revisit it at some point.

As a direct result of my BACC confusion, I started playing my very old, and very loved Enekjaer rotational save in TS3. There's something lovely about time just standing still, even as the years hurtle past.

March

The Crumplebottoms celebrate Gaia's birthday. I love this save. There's no set story, only chaos.

The penny drops for Elio, who was oblivious in his scouting weirdness. I love his vacant little face.

April

The wig snatching motherplant makes itself known to Elio, and unknown to him, sets him on a path that will shape the rest of his life.

Not a screenshot as such, but one of the CC sets I'm most proud of. I was so honoured that my bestie @obigem trusted me to work with her on this collection and very happy with how it turned out.

May

I had jaw surgery and the drugs were good. I don't remember doing this, but I guess this is when I downloaded Re-Light.

My bebe Caleb in the TS3verse. He was one of the first sims I created (if not the first) when I got the TS4 CAS demo, so it felt right that he got to be in other versions of the game.

June

Elio fucked around and found out. Sure it all worked out in the end, but I did enjoy the mess.

Trashleen coming in hot with the good advice. "Let them chat shit behind your back. Rent is expensive." She's correct. Live rent-free in the heads of your enemies.

July

I spent way too much time building Evil Pappy's Glue factory for a few photos of Alan's post-school fate and subsequent rescue. It made sense in my head for an evil cowboy to have a glue factory.

August

Trashleen and Mitzipuff lead the pack when it comes to style, but they just had to jump on the 'demure and mindful' trend for this shot.

The Motherplant battle always gives amazing shots. Elio and his friends beat the Motherplant and managed to rescue Miguel.

September

I update my models subtly every so often, but this time, quite a few of them visited the CAS surgeon for some minor adjustments.

I love the entire Poppy Collection I made with @surely-sims, but this dress is my standout and I'm so pleased with what I was able to achieve with it! Izumi serves as an 80s goddess.

October

October brought us Life and Death, and of course the big face mountain deserved a Cabbagepatch photoshop edit!

And then we have three! Elio, Allan and Miguel sorted their drama and decided to try being a throuple...it just so happened that the game allowed it now.

November

I was inspired by Ravenwood, and decided to do a little elven edit. No storyline, only elves and fireflies.

November marked the return of the Smyths, and a huge change in Cabbagepatch's relationship with her arch enemy Figgyduff. The sisters joined forces to conquer the Clucking Cosa Nostra once and for all.

December

Cabbagepatch formally invites you to attend a beautiful Easter concert with some definitely Easter themed CC that will be released most generously and totally on time for the Easter season in which they are meant to be used.

@joliebean and I were on our Christmas bullshit again with our latest Christmas collab! Esther got added back into the model rotation for this Marilyn moment.

[yesimwriting]

Stawp!

Louis and bestie reader are so cute

They would be so satc coded and go out for drinks and vacays

Also i think reader would introduce him and call him "my beautiful louis" to other people

But imagine louis getting home and texting her with a smile on his face all cute 🥰

I like the idea of the person who makes vampirism good being her, a platonic relationship, in contrast of a romantic companion.

Also i imagine this convo:

Armand: do you have to go over to her apartment every other day?

Louis: first of, we have our movie night fridays together and you know this!

Armand: its 4 a.m

Louis: duh? I got to get there while the sun is down, besides we need to pick up thai food because she does not cook and she will starve herself before turning on the stove

AND ARMAND WITH HER

I feel like after he knows her, he would be jealous of any relationships/ one night stands she might have (louis knows about them obvi! She calls him all the time 💅🏻)

Im obsessed with this concept 😭

everything about this is so perfect!! i'm so happy you got the vibe! i feel like he just needs someone to pull him out of his (slightly subconscious) angst and something about that happening through a platonic relationship is so endearing to me

they're so satc coded too, just besties drinking and vacationing and having (slightly) delusional conversations <3

also bestie reader calling him "my beautiful louis" to others is everything to me 😭 they for sure love each other so much omg

armand is definitely so messy with this 😭 he's like a cat trying to gaslight their owner into thinking they don't want attention

bc i love this sm here's an actual drabble/fic:

pls be nice writing for new characters for the first few times is so daunting for no reason 😭, also armand is a bit messy here <3

----

Not unlike daylight's earliest hours seeping through shut curtains, the haziness--the easiness--you offer him is persistent.

Louis has grown accustomed to the feeling, to the consistent warmth of your friendship, but every once in awhile the sentimentality of it all digs at him.

"This is..." You trail off, legs crossed beneath you and television remote still loosely held between your fingers. "Complex."

Louis's focus flits between you and the screen you're intently staring at. The two of you hadn't set out to watch a documentary on some nature channel, but this is far from the first time you've gotten distracted by some default program while attempting to put on a movie. "Very."

His sarcasm is enough to break the spell. You turn your head, frowning, "Don't make fun of me."

The documentary cuts to a well lit, sparsely wooded forest. The camera focuses on a deer patiently grazing on the surrounding foliage.

"I’d never," he mumbles, suppressing a smile in an attempt at seeming as serious as he needs to be for the joke to work.

You let out a sound that's too gentle to be a laugh before straightening your shoulders and returning your attention to the television screen. There's something ironically pointed about the way the peaceful background melody fades into something more sinister. Looming Danger.

The deer, alerted by some sixth sense, stiffens, its body stretching to its full, insignificant height. The camera zooms in, focusing on the deer's wide eyes and unmenacing features. "That kind of reminds me of you."

This time, your laugh is full, sharpened by a partial scoff that's as amused as it is offended. "That's the weirdest thing you've ever said to me."

The comment is almost enough to ease him. The camera pans out, allowing the audience to see the other surrounding deer. "Maybe the deer from that one animated movie."

You're quiet for a moment, thinking through the implication of the words before turning your head towards him again. "You mean Bambi?"

He had been much too old to be interested in the film by the time it came out, but the name is vaguely familiar enough. "I think so."

You blink at that, tilting your head slightly. "How do you know Bambi?"

"I don't know Bambi," the argument is a relatively flat one. Louis turns to better face you, resting his arm against the back of your couch. "I've just seen some commercials."

That only seems to confuse you further. You straighten, pulling your legs towards your chest. "Where would you have seen Bambi commercials?"

"They were everywhere when it came out in the 40's."

You don't respond right away, your attention shifting away from Louis and towards your bent legs. As far as references that remind you of his lack of humanity, this is far from a drastic one. The 40’s weren’t long enough ago to be inconceivable to you.

Still, you’re quiet, as if thinking through the potential outcomes of your reaction. You nod once. “Right."

When you look up at him again, there's a hesitant sort of curiosity behind your eyes. It's an expression Louis's more accustomed to than he wants to be, it's the way you look at him when you're reminded of the reality of the differences between the two of you.

You tap your nails against your knee. "Does it feel weird?" The question comes out with a suddenness that doesn't suit you, the stiffness of the words sharp and uncertain. "All that time--carrying it inside your head?"

For a moment, all he can bring himself to do is sit with the question. Your question. It's a simple enough thing to ask, but not a exactly a straightforward thing to answer. Especially not to you, who has yet to experience a significant passage of time even by human standards.

"Well," he starts, "You know about the way that time has impacted aspects of my memory." You watch him patiently, saying nothing to prompt or rush him as he thinks through his response. "It does make things feel different--years spent with someone can feel like moments, and moments with others can feel like eternity."

You nod once, allowing his answer to sink in. "Which one am I?"

He knows his answer before he knows how to put it into words. You’re too familiar for either.

“You’re more like a memory.”

Your eyebrows briefly pinch together at that. You part your lips, but before you can respond the documentary’s music swells.

You turn your head in time to see the coyote lunge at a deer. You sigh, screwing your eyes shut before leaning forward, You press your forehead against his arm. “That’s depressing.”

Louis could have anticipated the reaction, you’re usually more bothered by animals dying in movies than people. Still, though, your ability to find comfort in him of all things will never not perplex him.

Instead of pointing out that you’re the one that chose to watch this, he gently reaches for the remote. “Fine, I’ll put on the movie.”

----

The familiar ringing is so muted, so low, Armand's certain that if it wasn't for his enhanced senses, he wouldn't have been able to hear anything at all. By the time he's turned his head, Louis is already reaching for his coat's pocket.

Armand frowns. If the late hour and limited number of people Louis talks to weren't enough to let Armand know who the message is from, Louis's smile as he unlocks his cell phone would be evidence enough. You--it's always you.

He continues forward, allowing Louis to type out a response without interruption. Once he's certain the message has been sent, Armand begins, "It's her again."

Louis's attention shifts away from the screen. "She's my friend."

"I know," he says, voice flat, "Your best friend."

"Stop it." There's nothing aggressive about Louis's response, but there's an underlying warning pressed into the syllables, the same almost-sharpness that Louis relies on whenever Armand implies a lack of fondness for Louis's latest source of entertainment. "It's not like that."

No, it really isn't. When you first began to weave yourself into Louis's life, Armand had almost convinced himself that this was a blatant betrayal that defied Louis's usual preferences. After about five minutes of assessment, Armand realized that the two of you really are as affectionately platonic as you claim to be.

"No," it's an easy enough concession. Armand continues forward, the coolness of the night's air sharp against his skin. Their walk hasn't exactly been the most exciting night of their companionship, but it has been non-contentious in a needed way after their latest session with Daniel. "You do spend a lot of time with her."

Louis's quiet for a moment, thinking through his response in a way that Armand finds unusual. "You could spend time with us, too."

The sentiment isn't as true as Louis intends it to be. While Armand's been around you regularly enough to consider you familiar, there are a few things that the two of you want to do on your own. Your weekly movie nights, casual drinking at bars, the surprise trip to Milan. And during the evenings in which Armand is there, Louis regards him with a subtle uneasiness that if you've noticed, you know better than to mention.

In your presence, what they are may only be portrayed in the softest of lights. The facets of vampirism must only ever be suggested, alluded to so faintly that they're rendered incapable of tarnishing that darling soul of yours Louis is so determined to preserve.

"And subject the poor, little fawn to an evening with two vampires?"

Armand keeps his gaze focused on what's ahead of them, but he can practically feel the lack of amusement radiating off of Louis. "Come on," he tries again, "She's not like that."

Although he'd love nothing more than to solely resent your existence, Armand does have to give you credit for that. You hadn't so much as missed a single step when Louis revealed the truth to you, never once treating him differently. You also barely flinched when Armand appeared in your home with no warning as a way of hurting Louis during a particularly lively argument. Armand's yet to determine if your bravery is a sign of idiocy or a testament to how certain you are in your connection to Louis.

It's far from rare for Louis to feel the need to defend you, but there's a determination there that seems urging. "She asked you to come over."

Louis's hesitation, though brief, is confirmation enough. He almost stills but seems to think better of it, placing his phone back into his pocket as if that will be enough to make Armand forget that you're the source of this. "She just ended things with the boy she's been seeing."

Hm. Not exactly an interesting update, but intriguing...more intriguing than why you usually call Louis, if nothing else.

"Alright," Armand agrees, "Let's visit your puppy."

----

The apartment building you live in is far from run down. You've slowly but surely transformed yourself into one of those rare artists with a curated following so obsessed with being able to credit themselves as the discoverer of the next big thing that they go out of their way to purchase anything that you've labeled as yours. Existing at the cusp of fame has allowed you to afford a decent apartment in the city, but it's nowhere near as nice as where you could be if you'd accept Louis's offer to get you a place closer to them.

Louis knocks on your door twice. In less than a second, you're clicking the lock out of place. You're beaming as you pull the door open, "Louis."

Armand watches Louis's expression melt into one of total warmth. There's a definiteness to your friendship that Armand might envy if he understood it any better. What's so special, so interesting about you that your presence is always desireable?

Louis extends an arm, offering you the bouquet of flowers he insisted on purchasing before visiting you.

Your smile widens even further at the arrangement. If it wasn't for the information that Louis gave him earlier, Armand would have no reason to think anything remotely upsetting happened to you tonight. "I love peonies. Thank you."

You lift a hand, your pointer finger gently brushing a thin petal as you examine the flowers. After a moment, you straighten, turning your head enough to acknowledge him. "Armand, hi." The greeting is cordial yet far from cold, the way you often are with him.

"Hello," he replies. You step back, pulling your front door open as a way of inviting them in. "I'm sorry about your boyfriend."

You pause at that, parting your lips as you look back at him. Louis speaks before you get the chance to, "I told you to look sad when we got here."

It's a playful chastising at best, but you react as if Louis had really meant it. In some ways, Armand believes he did. "Oh," the sound falls flat. You walk further into your home's entryway, giving them the space needed to enter. "Give me a second, I can do better." You turn slightly, holding onto the flowers a little tighter as you bring your free hand to your chest. "I'm distraught."

Your performance isn't worthy of a standing ovation, but there's a humor there that might have been charming if Armand's disinterest in you was less inherit.

"Nice try," Louis mumbles as he wanders towards your couch. He sits down with a casualness that highlights how used to existing in your space Louis really is. "Armand wasn't up for visiting anyone and I wanted you to at least look sympathetic."

You walk past your living room. Armand watches you for a moment before following, if for no other reason than to feel something resembling Louis's familiarity. He keeps his steps even, making a point of remaining a few paces behind you.

You stop in front of a cupboard. After opening the cabinet, you have to extend your arm so fully to reach a vase Armand's surprised when you manage to grab it without knocking it off its shelf.

"Trust me," you say, exaggerating the syllables as you approach the sink, "I'm very sympathetic." You place the vase beneath the sink before turning on the faucet.

Armand steps forward, setting a palm against the granite that makes up the island attached to your sink. "I'm sure." The words are spoken so lowly they're nearly drowned out by the sound of running water.

"What did he do?" Louis asks from his spot on the couch.

You lift the vase out of the sink's basin, shutting off the faucet as you move to set the glass onto the counter. "Broke up with me because he thought he had a chance with his ex-girlfriend."

"What?" Louis turns fully at that, craning his neck to look at you.

You nod sharply, completely validated by Louis's shock. "I know." You remove the plastic binding your bouquet together. "Men are the worst." You carefully pull a flower away from its bundle before placing it in the vase. The process of arranging the flowers must remind you who brought them to you, because after a second, you amend your statement, "Except you guys. Obviously."

"Obviously," Louis repeats in a way that only feels somewhat sarcastic. "So are you...upset? Angry?"

You pause, giving yourself a moment to really think about your response. "A little of everything, I guess." You pick up two smaller flowers by their long stems before placing them in the vase. "But not crushed." You reach for a filler flower. "I don't know...it's not like I was in love with him."

Louis rests an elbow against the back of your couch, propping his head up as he watches you continue to adjust your flowers. "I'm glad you weren't." You raise your eyebrows at that. "He wasn't the right person."

"You always say that."

"And I haven't been wrong yet."

You give him another look that would be threatening if it wasn't for the underlying fondness there. "Don't start." You don't wait for Louis's reaction before returning your attention to the flowers.

Armand watches you for a moment before allowing himself to take in your apartment. This place is a known entity, but it's not exactly familiar. He's never seen anything beyond the living but he has heard you talk about a room that you've converted into a studio space.

It's not as easy as it should be to imagine a space solely dedicated to your work when touches of it seem to cover your entire apartment. Two canvases too uniquely you to be purchased are hanging behind your couch, there's a ceramic vase on your dining table that reminds him of the way you paint, and then there's the abandoned palette and partially finished canvas still on its easel.

Armand walks forward slowly, approaching the painting as you and Louis begin discussing your least favorite things about the boy that ended things with you.

Even unfinished, the project is strong in its certainty, in its style. Your brush strokes are sharp, unafraid. Next to your well loved palette, there's a small photograph that parallels but doesn't exactly fully match the partially completed house on the canvas.

"That's an idea for a new collection--the repurposing of abandoned things, places..." Your explanation is abrupt in a way that borders on shy. "It's not meant to be as pretentious as it sounds."

There's a self deprecating quality to the disclaimer that doesn't fit you. Perhaps he's stumbled onto an actual insecurity. "Does someone seeing it like this make you uncomfortable?"

"Uh," you start, confused by his own suddenness, "No, not really. As long as you know to look it as a work in progress." You tap your nails against the counter. "I--I have a room down the hall that's full of half-finished stuff if you want to look at those, too."

The offer feels more like an attempt to convince yourself that you're okay with his analysis of your work before it's been polished than anything else. The concept of your uncertainty makes Armand curious enough for him to actively reach for your thoughts.

Armand's concentration shifts onto your mind, and he's immediately thrown by the vaguest implication of resistance. Your mental defense is so feeble it might as well not exist, but the fact that it does...that you're trying to at all is almost endearing enough to convince Armand to leave you be. Almost. "Are you attempting to block me out of your thoughts?"

You blink, the blood beneath your skin rushing its way up your neck at your embarrassment. "Are you trying to read them?" When your counter question doesn't impact him at all, you sheepishly offer an explanation, "Louis taught me."

Of course he'd teach his pet a new trick.

Louis lets out a small laugh at that. "The fact that he felt it at all tells me you're better at it than I'd thought you be."

Armand's gaze returns to your painting. You've managed to find a warmth, a beauty in the forgotten. "The implication of resistance isn't the same as resistance itself."

The criticism stings, but you don't let it impact your expression. You let out an exaggerated sigh, your shoulders slumping slightly to add to your point. "Be nice, I was just broken up with. Over text."

He continues to study the painting, his mind attempting to break the piece down by individual brush strokes. "That doesn't matter to you. Not really." Armand can almost imagine the creation of the house's boarders, of the formation of each individual stone and the heavy ivy covering them. "You're not 'crushed' because you're interesting and he's not, and a part of you knows that."

The sentiment behind the words leaves you desperate to push him away. Blood settles itself beneath your chest. Your feeble mental shield returns, this time determined enough for Armand to feel its desire to push him out.

"You don't know if I'm interesting," the response is too soft, too curious to reflect your unease.

You tap your nails against the counter, the gentle clicks of them hitting the granite echoing throughout the space. Armand refocuses on the canvas. "Louis wouldn't like you if you weren't."

Something about the statement seems to ease you. Armand's reminded of how almost overly genuine your friendship is. "Thanks."

Louis lets out an almost-scoff at that, his eyebrows briefly drawing together in a display of mock offense. "Don't make me sound so shallow."

"It's less about your shallowness and more about my winning personality."

"Uh-huh," Louis mumbles, pressing a synthetic lack of interest into syllables, "Well, as long as its about you."

----

a/n this is lowkey way longer than i expected it to be but i loved this dynamic so much so if you want to see more of them pls let me know <3

[pointyhatspointyears]

Then & Now: OCs & Gposing

Tagged by @sparrowsong-7 @l3ylines & @lynxden (thank you <3)

This'll be long and all over the place because I took a very different direction with gposing this years and it's been very uh educational. Learned to use posing tools less than a year ago and it's really given our characters more life and made a world of difference. Old embarrassing screenshots incoming.. (but the point here is to show ~Growth~ and I hope it motivates you to keep improving too. and push through all the bugs and that existential ennui hit when your game crashes before youve taken a single screenshot ;-;)

-

Random sentimental observations first, going through old folders..

My gurl aged. But the older she got the happier we both were. We discovered ✨boundaries✨ together.

Her fem elezen Era of 2013-2014 had a bit of both Gabriel & Theneras in her. Nerdy elf and grumpy elf were always there. Never realized. (also apparently we've always had that annoying light/shadow shimmer effect and it's not just a post DT lighting thing)

Apparently I've been wearing the same outfit since 2018. Sometimes you just put on a hat and your character says Yup. That's me. Forever. You'll just have to find a way to squeeze under. (sorry for +6 years of clipping, sweetie, but it was your gift and I'm never taking it off)

Gabriel and @pocketyoukai's Yuusei were besties since 2016 before they were RP characters. and he'll always be a loving doting dad retainer to her sister.

2020- Goose & Amalthea were girlfriends before we realized they were girlfriends. The ship sailed itself.

2018: discovered GIF making. Tried to put it to good use..

…but I just kept making shitposts. which didn't last long thankfully.

..And I'm glad it was short-lived, because when I focused more on telling stories through gposing, especially this past year, it's like my brain got rewired to view this world differently, through the eyes of a little sprout again. If I was going to use screenshots only and no words, I had to take shots/gifs of different things to set my scene and experiment with angles I wouldn't otherwise have considered (and fail 50% of the time and try something else. timing is so tricky😭)

..not to mention, when you're thirsty and need to work around censorship you also get creative with angles and visual subtext

It's 10x more fun and rewarding, albeit challenging especially if you don't want to use any crime tools. But doable. And just as fun and rewarding. And I want to do more of this (and fail and keep experimenting) next year and see you tell more of your stories your way too. and be inspired by and fall in love with your characters.

..I was very much 100% vanilla, as in not even shaders, until early 2020. And started using posing tools about a year ago. When you say "your characters have more character!" (you know who you are) I know exactly what you mean now and that makes me very emotional ;-; it really wasn't the case until less than a year ago. a lil criminal activity goes a long way.

Also vanilla kisses were so hard to gpose and turned out so funny. Note to self never to /puckerup for kisses. ever. But we did our best and learned a lot. A ton more kissing next year for sure.

-

A little late so not sure who hasn't done this yet. Tagging my new favorite gpose storyteller @quiethealer , @squidzure (you've shown us Rhea's glow-up but where is Birdie's glow-up!), partner in storytelling & crime @pocketyoukai & @pumpkinmagekupo

and if you're seeing this and are happy with the growth you've done lately... doeet. Show me your embarrassing shots and the shots you're most proud of this year.

[blueberry0409]

DRAGONROSE INTRO +HCS+ TIMELINE

ok so somehow i am now the supreme general in the fight for Dragonrose/ The Creature Feature Years

This is a intro post and all the fun stuff is always tagged in this blog under "felix x charlie" and "felix rosier" and "the creature feature" my asks are also always open

ok so first

basics (from hogwarts legacy) (pls correct me if im wrong)

canon info

we know that Felix Rosier was Evan Rosier'syounger brother

he became a dragonologist and loved dragons in school.

he was smart. talented in charms, potions, herbology and care of magical creatures

he was invited to the Three Broomsticks by Bill Weasley.

born 1969

Slytherin

Fanon

he is besties with Charlie and Tonks they are known as the creature feature by they wrecked havoc.

They are friends with hagrid <3

Felix was much younger than the twins so he was the ultimate annoying sibling when he was little and the twins were at Hogwarts

He loved barty and reg and would follow the skittles around when they came over

His parents died (DE dad) died when he was young so he was raised by his grandmother

------

So in order to solve the age gap problem (hc from the lovely @lirenthenonlyrist )

1969- Felix Born

(1980) lets say) During the First War - Felix get obliviated by DE's.

-- Same time as Evan's death (did not get time to process)---

(1980-1984)- He gets sent to a muggle school/hospital where the help students with disabilities. He goes there from 11-14 and Felix is happy he has friends, and life’s good even if he can’t remember most of it.

(1984) He gets his memory back.

(1984)-He remembers everything, his brothers death, the war, gets his memories removed. TRAUMA. He has to go to Hogwarts.

-------

(1984/1985)

Goes to Hogwarts becomes friends with Charlie because of their shared love of dragons, Tonks comes sees these two oddballs and says THEIR MINE NOW.

Charlie and Tonks help him with the trauma.

Charlie and Felix bond over not wanting to always be compared o their siblings.

Felix reaches out to Pandora.

(1995-1997)

Happiness.

Felix vists the Weasley's they love the excitable dragon boy that Charlie brought home. (percy clocks them)

Shenanigans

(1987)

Fourth Year Ball GASP feelings

The boys ignore their connection that goes deeper than friendship

Tonks wants to get them together, they are oblivious.

Happiness.

(1990)

Sixth Year

Pandora dies

Felix goes into deep despression and has a breakdown in the field after pandoras death (during winter break in sixth year) between the Weasley and Lovegood home while holding Luna

He wont let go of Luna and Xeno is suffering too

Sings Luna the Rosier family lullabies - cries.

Ms. Weasley saw him in the cold crying and brought him inside for hot cocoa and a blanket and told him stories about pandora.

he reminds her of her brothers fabion and gideon

A few days later she gave him a matching blue Weasley sweater with luna. it had a matching dragon with charlie :)

It starts the tradition of Felix and Charlie’s matching sweaters having little dragons on them.

Charlie and Felix realize they love each other and start dating.

tonks is so relived.

(1991)

They graduate

Charlie and Felix go to Romania for the Dragonoligist Institute

Tonks goes to Auror Academy.

Happiness.

Bonus May 1992:

Charlie and Felix and Tonks were the ones that came and rescued Norbert Charlie recruited Felix for the dragon emergency after Ron's letter. and he ofc went along with his equally crazy bf.

They rode their dragons to Tonks who went with them IMMEDIATLY/

before they went to pick up Norbert they went to Hagrid where Felix and Charlie yapped to him about dragons while Tonks played with a odd lil creature.

THESE ARE ALL MY HCS + SOME FROM MY MOOTS

@mairon-goth-minion @lirenthenonlyrist @guess1mjustheren0w @hawaiianshirttaco64 @percyweasleyapologist @danaris112 @aidens-ocean-galaxy @look-a-gay @l1ve-l4ugh-lov3craft @bibeantransbean @yesiamprocrastinating @aceofspades42 @mrstellmeafuckingsecret

[hanaybuns]

let me cook

guys i have a confession to make... and you have to hear me out...karatoto (karamatsu and totoko) is a fun pairing

NOW STAY WITH ME HERE FOR A SECOND

in the context of the show, i would only want them to stay friends, if not besties. i think the writers actually like pairing them up for certain scenes bc they can rely on kara to be slightly more normal (relative to the other matsus) when interacting with totoko. like, when you really think about it they interact a lot in the third season... i honestly think she interacted with kara the most in season 3 besides nyaa and possibly osomatsu.

(these are not the best screenshots but trust me they talk to each other in all of these scenes, except the one where kara is a horse)

but thats actually not why i like them as a pair... the real reason is because i like messiness and i like drama and i like fun and i think a secret relationship between karamatsu and totoko would have all of those things

(the even realer reason is because i'm wildly and shamelessly biased towards karamatsu. it's just that simple)

see, the reason it would be so fun is because no one would expect it. everyone in the show probably thinks that if totoko were to end up with anyone, it would be osomatsu. and that's not an unfounded belief, i think they definitely do have the deepest and most complex relationship out of the 6 as the two "leads".

them getting together would kind of represent this grand, but ultimately linear shift in the status quo. the main character gets the heroine. shocker. but it kind of is a shocker in a show like osomatsu san, and its characters aren't really ready for that kind of "ending" per se. especially not osomatsu, who thrives and desperately clings to the status quo like his life depends on it. and ofc totoko is in a similar boat, where she finds herself yearning for simpler, more fun times.

but maybe totoko just wants to have a little extra fun! maybe she just wants to take a quick detour! is that too much to ask?? can't a girl have a little fling on the side?? why does everything she does matter so much as the heroine??? it sucks!!

it's too hard to go out and find a rich hot guy to have fun with. thankfully, she has 6 men who are already head over heels for her! so she finds herself weighing the pros and cons of each sextuplet.

osomatsu is... complicated, so he's out

choromatsu is an automatic no

ichimatsu is okay... but he seems like a guy who needs more care than she's willing to give

jyushimatsu is complicated in a different, much weirder way

todomatsu... todomatsu is definitely a viable option, but she wants someone who will only have eyes for her and she doesn't like how totty always has 2 girls by his side

karamatsu... karamatsu was never really an option in her mind but like, he's pretty nice! and honestly recently he's been much more normal than he used to be (season 1). his painfullness has decreased substantially since then. he also doesn't look half bad! he and todomatsu definitely take care of their appearance the most out of the 6. they've talked a decent amount and they even had that one skit together... ignition.

(side note, weirdly enough i think the karamatsu taxi skit makes him the only matsu to ever call a woman a b*tch... which is surprising to say the least and honestly detracts from this whole thing a bunch but i just thought it was so crazy...yikes kara)

but best of all, karamatsu is (seemingly) simple. and thats what she wants right now, a simple and easy and fun time. no baggage, no grand status quo changes, no needless effort. just a little fun with a guy she already knows likes her.

so she approaches him one day and asks him to carry her bags for her while she goes shopping. normal enough right? so karamatsu ofc is like "oh yeah i think i'm free but my brothers might be busy" and totoko's like "oh that's fine, you don't have to bring them" and karamtsu just says "sounds good, see you tomorrow!"

he walks home and it doesn't really hit him until he gets there... totoko chan just invited him somewhere to do something with him... alone.

but she's done that before! she asked if he wanted to watch her at her driving school, which he did alone. heh... it seems totoko is not a karamatsu girl yet, but he thinks he can win her over after tomorrow.

ok so i have more ideas for this, but honestly i don't really think theres an audience for karatoto but lmk if you guys are interested to hear the rest.

[sequinsmile-x]

Keep My Hand in Yours

A quiet Saturday morning goes wrong, and the team finding out about her relationship with Aaron is the least of Emily's concerns.

-x-

Hi besties <3

It feels absolutely wild to say that this fic takes me over 2.5 million words of fanfic. 2.5 million words of Hotchniss!!

I'm cooking up a fic to celebrate the milestone (y'all know I love a milestone...I'm a water sign, I'm emotional haha) but for now I just want to say I appreciate every single one of you and all of the comments/kudos etc that you leave on my fics. It truly means the world and I love this little corner of the internet.

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: mild peril, canon typical violence

Words: 4.8k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily wakes up slowly, drawn from sleep by a hand skating up and down her back, warm and newly familiar calluses chased by shivers they created on her bare skin. She groans and buries her face in her pillow, blindly hitting out at Aaron as he chuckles at her. 

“Good morning to you too.” 

She opens one eye and looks at him, fighting a losing battle against a smile as he captures her hand and kisses her knuckles, “Morning,” she replies, furrowing her brow when she sees he’s dressed in a pair of jeans and a polo shirt she knew had been in her closet, “Where are you going?” 

Aaron smiles and leans in to kiss her, his lips stamped against her cheek and then her lips as she turns her head to capture them, “I was going to make you breakfast, but you don’t have any eggs.”

She grumbles and wraps her arm around his neck, pulling him and the warmth that seemed to follow him like a shadow closer to her, “I don’t need breakfast,” she mumbles, kissing him again, “I need you to get back in bed.” 

“I’ll only be gone for 30 minutes,” He laughs and pushes some of her hair out of her face. He runs his knuckles down her cheek, the impossible softness of her skin making his chest tight just like it always did. She was everything he always knew she’d be and more, and the four short weeks they’d been together had been worth every painful thing he’d been through to get to her, to them. He swallows thickly to push back down the three words they hadn’t exchanged yet, “Then I’ll come back and cook you breakfast, and then I’ll get back into bed with you.” 

She hums, “What time do you have to get back to Jack?”

“He’s with Jess and Roy this weekend,” he says, “So I can stay as long as you’ll have me.” 

Emily’s cheeks ache with the smile that spreads across her face, love for him warming her from the inside out, threatening to spill out of her in the safety of her bedroom and his embrace. He’d become her safe space when she came home from Paris, had been the one person who truly understood what it was to put yourself back together after you’d been so brutally torn apart. Bit by bit, all the feelings she’d felt for him, everything she’d stuffed down into the deepest parts of herself ever since Foyet had attacked him, started to make themselves known. She’d loved him for a lot longer than the four weeks she’d had him, had wanted to kiss him years before she’d leant forward one evening in his apartment and stamped her lips against his. 

It was early days still, she knew that, but she also knew that this was it, that he was it. With anyone else, she’s sure it would terrify her, that it would have her running as far away as possible, but with Aaron all she wanted to do was run with him. To grab his hand and go wherever life led them both. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Agent Hotchner,” she replies, stamping her lips against his before she lets him go, “You and I both know I’d keep you here forever.” 

“And we both know I’d stay,” he smiles at her, and she can’t help but cup his cheek again, her thumb pressed into his dimple as she drags him in for one last kiss, “I should go.” 

She hums and wraps her arms around her pillow again, “Don’t be surprised if I fall asleep before you get back.” 

He watches as she settles back down, her eyes drifting shut as she sighs contentedly. He’d always known she was beautiful, even when he was still married to Haley. When he looked back on it, he knew it was part of the reason he’d been so cold to her at first. His attraction to her something that poured gasoline on the fire of his mistrust of her, guilt sparking in his gut every time her smile made his chest warm or her laugh had him suppressing a smile. He’d always known she was beautiful, but she’d never been as beautiful as this - laying in her bed, her hair a mess and her face free of make-up. It felt like a privilege, something he wasn’t entirely sure he deserved.

He chuckles as he stands up, “I wouldn’t expect anything else, sweetheart.” 

“Shush,” she says, pulling the covers tighter around her shoulders, her smile pressed against them as she breathes in his scent, “I’m sleeping.” 

She’s asleep again before he leaves the apartment, lulled to sleep by the residual warmth and safety he’d left behind. She slips in and out of slumber, and finally gets out of bed when she can’t settle any more. She frowns when she sees the time and realises Aaron has been gone for close to an hour, and it makes concern flicker in her gut. She gets out of bed and slips his shirt over her head and walks into the kitchen to get her phone to call him. She furrows her brow when she hears sirens outside, but ignores them as she tries to call Aaron, her concern getting worse when it rings twice before going to voicemail. 

She blows out a breath and tells herself that she’s overreacting, that he’s likely at the cashier and paying, that he’d got distracted by picking out flowers for her as he had before. She settles onto the couch and picks up the remote, smiling to herself when she switches it on and sees the local news. She wasn’t one for watching it herself, she thought that there was enough doom and gloom in her life because of her job, but Aaron watched it all the time. She’s about to change the channel, to find one of the reality shows she secretly loves, when the rolling bulletin across the bottom of the screen catches her attention. 

Breaking News: Local convenience store held hostage, one known gunman inside. 

Time slows down around her, the air thick as she struggles to suck in a breath as she waits for the anchor to say something, to make her feel stupid for worrying and immediately thinking the worst by saying it was a store way across town. When they discuss the story, when they say it’s the store she knows Aaron has gone to, she feels nauseous, her stomach rolling with it as she scrambles for her phone. 

He was just going to buy eggs. He was making her breakfast. He was just buying eggs so his gun was still in her safe. 

Her thumb lingers over Penelope’s contact in her phone. She knows if she sounds the alarm, if she calls her and asks her to contact everyone else, that she’ll be doing more than letting them know Aaron is in danger. She’ll be letting them know about the relationship none of them knew about yet. They were planning on telling the team soon. Dave was hosting everyone for dinner in a week and that felt like the perfect time, mutual ground to explain to their friends that they were together now. 

She shakes off the thought and calls Penelope, knowing she’d much rather deal with all of their questions by herself rather than not have their help.

“Peaches, what are you doing calling so early on a Saturday?” 

She blows out a breath and heads towards her bedroom, her phone sandwiched between her ear and her shoulder as she starts to get changed, “Pen, hi. Something’s happened to Hotch.”

___

He spends too long looking at flowers. 

He eventually settles on sunflowers, even though he’d bought them for her before, because he knows they are safe for Sergio. The cat may not exactly be his friend, but Emily loved him and therefore Aaron did too. Even if that love was returned in the form of scratches on his chest and two torn-up silk ties. 

He’s looking at the eggs when he hears it, when there’s a commotion at the front of the store that distracts him. There’s a scream followed by shouting, but he’s barely able to register what’s happening, barely able to think about the fact he’d left the apartment to simply buy some eggs, when there’s a man standing at the end of the aisle waving a gun around, pointing it at him as he demands Aaron comes to the front of the store with everyone else. 

Aaron’s belt feels heavy, the absence of his gun almost weighing him down as he puts his hands up, the carton of eggs and the flowers hitting the floor, and does as he’s told. 

This couldn’t be the way he went out, not after everything. He wasn’t going to die in a strange twist of fate after everything he’d survived. He wasn’t going to leave his son without any parents. 

And he wasn’t going to die before he told the love of his life how he felt about her, the words he wished he’d said as he left her less than an hour ago heavy on his tongue. 

He was going to live, because, for the first time in a long time, he had so much to live for. 

He sits on the ground with the other people unfortunate enough to be in the store just at the wrong time, and he jumps when his phone rings, the sound cutting through the forced silence they are all in. 

“Give me the phone,” the gunman demands, and Aaron nods and swallows thickly as he hands it over, Emily’s name and picture staring up at him for only a second before the man pointing a gun at him drops it to the floor and stands on it, the call coming to an abrupt end as the screen cracks. Aaron watches the man carefully, his focus on his shaking hands, wide eyes, and uncovered face. It seemed like this was done on a whim, in a fit of rage for one reason or another, and that it was unlikely he had an exit plan. “If everyone listens to me, no one has to get hurt.”

Aaron had done his job long enough to know that wasn’t true. 

___

She flashes her badge when she arrives at the scene. She takes a deep breath as she steps past the barricade and does her best to slip into Agent Prentiss mode, to remind herself she wasn’t here as a girlfriend worried about her boyfriend. She stares at the store, at the place she’d gone to countless times, and wonders how yet another place she’d gone to without thinking had now been marred by violence, how she’d ever walk through the aisles looking for whatever she wanted for dinner without thinking about the fact Aaron had been in danger there. 

“Bella.”

She turns and sees Dave, Derek and JJ behind her, and she walks towards them, forcing a smile on her face she knows they’ll see through, “Did you guys all carpool or something?” 

Derek shakes his head, “We just all got here. Reid is on his way. Garcia has gone to the office, she said she’d be more use there.”

Emily nods, her gaze drifting back to the store behind them and the temporary command centre the local cops had set up, “Good, that’s good.” 

“How did you know Aaron was in there anyway?” Dave asks, and Emily closes her eyes and blows out a breath before she turns to look at them, ready to give the answer she was sure would only create more questions. 

“Well-”

“This store is significantly closer to your place Emily than it is to Hotch’s,” Spencer says, appearing behind everyone else, his eyebrows furrowed as he says what the others hadn’t realised yet, “There are three convenience stores and two grocery stores between here and his apartment.” 

She sighs as she watches the moment it clicks for everyone else, sees the mix of emotions that pass over their faces as they realise what she and Aaron had kept hidden from them. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” Dave says, shaking his head as he smiles at her, a spark in his eyes that infuriates her given the circumstances. They fall into silence, all of them just waiting for someone to say something first.

“What’s happening?” Spencer asks, his brow furrowed as he looks back and forth between Emily and the rest of them. 

“Hotch was at Emily’s place, Spence,” JJ says, patting him on the shoulder, her lips pressed together when he just looks more confused. 

“What? Why?” 

“Well,” JJ says, flicking her eyes to Emily’s, “When a man and a woman love each other very much-”

“Can we stop please?” Emily says, crossing her arms over her chest, “Yes, Aaron was at mine,” she clears her throat, “We’re together.” 

Derek furrows his brow, “How long has this been going on?” 

“A month,” she replies, “And I’m sure you have questions-”

“Damn right we have questions,” Derek replies, his jaw tight with anger that only serves to make her angry. 

“And we’ll answer them,” she huffs out a breath, “Most of them. But for now can we please focus on getting him out of there?” 

The reality of where they were, of why they were here on a Saturday morning, seems to sink back in and they all nod. Derek’s shoulders loosen and he swallows thickly, his irritation and mistrust still painted all over his face. 

“Have you spoken to anyone yet?” 

She shakes her head, “I got here just before you.” 

“Then we’d better get going.” 

Dave takes charge and talks to the local cops, something she’s grateful for when they ask why the FBI are interested in a case like this, sure that her response would have been a lot more forceful than his calm ‘one of our own is in there’. They find out the gunman, Neil West, is an ex-employee of the store, and that his ex-girlfriend is the cashier currently in there. Penelope pulls his history - a story of stalking and assault charges that turn Emily’s stomach - and makes her more nervous. She’s sure West doesn’t have a plan, that he’s devolving as they just stand there outside unable to do anything, and it makes her feel sick, any pretence that she’s just here as an agent, as a member of Aaron’s team, disappearing by the second. 

The team spreads out, all of them helping the cops in whatever way they can. Emily feels frozen, the three words she couldn’t say earlier stuck in her throat, her lungs full of what felt like cowardice how she was faced with the thought that she may not get the chance to tell him that she loves him. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” 

She sighs, “Derek-”

“Secrets never end up being good for any of us,” he says, shaking his head as he looks at her, “Especially yours.” 

She scoffs in disbelief, a humourless laugh sticking in her throat, “You have got to be kidding me,” she shakes her head, “You’re not equating my relationship with Aaron to…” she swallows thickly, her jaw tight as she holds back everything she wants to say, sure if she started she wouldn’t stop, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Because you two didn’t tell us anything.” 

“It’s been a month, Derek,” she says, “A month. We wanted to know where we stood with everything before we got everyone involved.”

“And that took a month?” 

“No, it took me maybe a few minutes to realise that I’m in love with him, but-”

Derek’s frown slips away as he cuts her off, “You’re in love with him?” 

Before she can answer, before she can even catch up with what she’s unintentionally said outloud, a gunshot rings out from inside the store. It feels like time stands still, like she’s underwater and she can’t hear anything apart from the echo of the gunshot in her head. She tries to move forward, tries to get to him but she can’t, like she’s frozen in place. Everything around her speeds back up and she realises Derek’s arm is around her middle, that he’s holding her so tightly her feet are no longer on the floor.

“Derek, let me go.”

“I can’t princess, I’m sorry,” he says, holding her tighter as police storm the building, “We both know he wouldn’t want me to.”

She stops fighting against him because she can’t anymore, all of her energy thrown into not crying, into not letting the pre-emptive grief settle into her chest, because if someone in there had got themselves shot trying to be a hero it would be Aaron. Stupid, loving, considerate, Aaron. It feels like a lifetime passes before they hear anything, every possibility playing out in front of her in a mix of static and vivid technicolour as she thinks of her life with and without him, fractures of everything that could and might not be slotting together until she feels nauseous. She feels stupid for letting herself get carried away with the thought of a future with him, for letting herself think for one minute that she’d be able to hold on to him. She’d never been able to keep anything good for long. 

When she eventually hears the crackle of the radio of a nearby cop she sucks in a breath preparing herself for the worst because life had never been too kind to her. 

“We need a medic for a gunshot wound to the gunman’s shoulder. All hostages are on their way out now.”

The relief almost makes her knees give out, and she’s sure if Derek still hadn’t been holding her they would have, that she would have collapsed under the weight of it.  He doesn’t let her go until the doors open, until Aaron is in sight. She runs towards him, her heart in her throat when she sees a cut on his forehead, and she throws her arms around him, not thinking about the team just a few feet behind them.

“You were gone a lot longer than 30 minutes,” she says, her throat tight as she pulls back to look at him, her eyes fixed on the cut on his head. She reaches out to touch it but stops short of doing so, worried she’d hurt him as her brain catches up with her. 

“Sorry,” he replies, catching her hand and kissing her knuckles, “Time got away from me.” 

She laughs humourlessly and leans forward to kiss him, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place, “Aaron…”

She almost says it, almost admits that she loves him here and now, but she stops herself because she wants it to be something just for them. Not something that one of their friends or a stranger could overhear. They had so little that was just theirs, and now their friends knew about their relationship they’d have even less, so she wanted this to just be for them. 

“I know,” he replies, because he did, his own confession heavy on his tongue before he swallows it down, and he stamps his lips against hers before he pulls back, “I’m okay.” 

She looks at his forehead again, “What happened?” 

“He was devolving, kept waving his gun at his ex-girlfriend and I saw where it was going,” he clears his throat and looks over at the team, their gaze burning into his side, before he looks back at her, “So I did what I had to do.” 

She shakes her head, “You disarmed him.” 

He brushes some of her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, “I did what I had to do. He hit me with the gun before I took it from him,” he repeats, “You’d have done the same thing.”

She sighs, because she knows he’s right, “We need to get you checked out,” she says, linking her fingers through his and leading him towards the medics. He opens his mouth to argue, to tell her that he’s fine, but she raises an eyebrow at him, “No arguing. You’re getting that looked at.” 

“Okay, sweetheart,” he says, squeezing her hand, her residual panic following her like a perfume, the scent of it clinging to her skin in a way he knew it would for days, “I’ll let them look at me,” he looks back over at their friends, at the way they weren’t even trying to hide the fact they were staring at them, “I take it that they know.” 

She hums, “Thanks to Reid and his strange amount of knowledge about all the places you can buy groceries between here and your place they figured it out pretty quickly.” 

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that by yourself.”

“They weren’t too bad,” she replies, smiling when he raises an eyebrow at her. She wants to talk to him about Derek, to find out if there is more to know about his poorly hidden comments about her and Ian, but she doesn’t want to talk about it now, not when they’d had such a hard day already. She smiles at him and leans in to kiss him, her lips catching the corner of his mouth, and they both know it’s more for their audience than either of them, “Now we know you’re okay they probably won’t hold back.” 

He winks at her, “Bring it on.” 

She doesn’t leave his side when he’s being checked over, listening intently to the paramedic’s advice like neither one of them had never taken a blow to the head before. Once he’s bandaged up, and she’s assured more than once that he doesn’t need to go to the hospital, she finally feels more relaxed, her hand still wrapped in his as they walk towards the rest of the team.

“Oh god,” he says, turning back to look at the store that was now cordoned off, “I need to go back in.”

“Honey, it’s a crime scene,” she says, squeezing his hand, “You can’t go back.” 

“But I didn’t get the eggs, we have nothing for breakfast.” 

She rolls her eyes at him, because of course he was worried about the eggs when if things had been different he could died, “Aaron-”

“I have a solution for that,” Dave says, a grin on his face that makes Emily glare at him, something that only seems to encourage him, “Why don’t we all go out for breakfast? My treat.” 

“That sounds like a great idea,” JJ says, pulling her phone out of her pocket, “I’ll let Pen know, she can join us.” 

“Oh god,” Emily says, turning her head and pressing her forehead against Aaron’s shoulder, “We’re never going to hear the end of this.” 

___

“That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

Emily chuckles at Aaron as she closes her front door behind them, “It wasn’t bad for you,” she says, her hand on his back as she slips past him, “But Pen asked me a lot of questions about our sex life when we went to the bathroom.” 

His eyes go wide, and the embarrassment that tinges his skin pink only makes the white bandage on his forehead stand out even more, “What?” 

She smiles and wraps her arms around him, tugging him and his warmth closer. She basks in it, soaks it all in because for a moment today, she thought she’d lost it forever, and she leans in to kiss him.

“If it makes you feel better,” she says, kissing him again, “I was very complimentary.” 

“Oddly, sweetheart, that doesn’t make me feel better,” he grumbles, unable to fight his smile when she looks up at him, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, “How complimentary?” 

“Oh very complimentary,” she says, running her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching lightly at his scalp as her eyes flick to his forehead, “Do you need any painkillers or anything?” 

He shakes his head and stamps his lips against hers, “I’m fine, I promise.” 

She nods, not entirely sure she believes him, and she reaches for his hand, “Let’s go sit down.” 

She sinks into his side the moment they settle onto the couch. She wraps both of her arms around one of his and holds it to her chest, and she rests her cheek on his shoulder, her eyes drifting closed as she breathes him in. She tries to commit it all to memory - all the things she may have taken for granted even just this morning. The press of his skin against hers. The scent of his cologne. The warmth that she never wanted to live without. He knows what she’s doing, because he knows he’d been doing the same earlier. Desperately trying to remember what she sounded like when she first woke up, or how she felt pressed against him just like this - idle moments of beautiful normality he once thought he’d never get again.

“I really am okay, Em,” he says, hooking his finger under her chin and making her look up at him, “I promise.” 

She smiles tightly, “I know…” she says, swallowing thickly, “I know you are, but earlier…” she shakes her head at herself as she chokes back tears she refuses to shed, “I didn’t know you would be,” her smile trembles, “I was scared.” 

He cups her cheek and pulls her close, the bandage on his forehead rubbing against her skin, “I know. I was too,” he kisses her, “But I’m right here.” 

She nods and suddenly she doesn’t feel close enough to him. She shifts so she’s in his lap, her side pressed against his chest as he holds her close. She tilts her head so she’s looking up at him and she cups his cheek. Any fear she’d had that morning about it being too soon is gone, replaced with a strange sense of calm because it felt right. For as many arguments as there were to say it was quick to know she loved him and that she wanted everything with him, there were just as many to say they’d been slow. That they’d let countless opportunities pass them by over the years and she wasn’t going to let this one slip by her too. 

“I love you,” she says, a weight lifted off her chest the moment she says it, “I love you so much.” 

He smiles, his cheeks aching with it as he pulls her in for a kiss, unable to stop himself before he replies, “I love you too, sweetheart. I love you so much more than I can ever possibly explain.” 

She kisses him, her hand on his cheek to hold him in place as if he’d want to be anywhere else. She rests her forehead against his and sighs contentedly, “It’s not even lunchtime yet and I’m exhausted.” 

“I think we’ve earned an indulgent nap,” he replies, kissing the tip of her nose and smiling when she scrunches it up, “But why don’t we watch one of those reality shows you pretend to hate first.” 

 “You say that like you don’t enjoy them too,” she hums and reaches for the remote. As she flicks through the channels she can see him watching her out of the corner of her eye and she turns to face him, “What?” 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, kissing her forehead, “That’s all.” 

“How hard exactly did that guy hit you in the head?” She jokes, and he rolls his eyes at her, stamping his lips against her forehead one more time before he pulls back. 

“I should thank the guy really,” he says casually, and she raises her eyebrow at him, making him suppress a smile as he shrugs, “If I’d have known a blow to the head is what would have finally made you say you love me, I would have been held hostage weeks ago.” 

She scoffs, choking on a laugh she couldn’t hold back if she tried. She shakes her head at him and lightly slaps his shoulder, narrowing her eyes when he captures her hand and kisses her knuckles, “Don’t joke about that.” 

“Too soon?”

“Far far too soon,” she mumbles, resting her head on his shoulder, “You’re lucky I love you, even if you do have a terrible sense of humour.” 

He wraps his arms around her and kisses her temple, “I really am lucky,” he replies, feeling the smile she hides against him, “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” 

[playbarbies]

as  we  approach  the  end  of  the  year,  i  want  to  get  mushy  and  thank  some  of  those  who  have  been  the  highlight  of  my  ‘24  and  who  i  now  cannot  (  and  don’t  want  to  )  envision  my  life  or  my  dash  without  :

@storiecraft  :  BARD  ILYSM  !!!  i  am  truly  not  exaggerating  when  i  say  that  reconnecting  was  one  of  the  best  things  to  happen  to  me  this  year.  i  had  always  thought  about  you  and  wondered  how  you  were  doing,  wishing  we  could  reconnect  only  to  find  out  that,  low  and  behold,  we  already  had!!!  forever  thanking  my  lucky  star(kid)s  that  we  found  our  way  back  home  (the  dash).  talking  to  you,  screaming  about  our  muses  &  coming  up  with  intricate  plots  and  world  crafting  that  now  and  forever  lives  rent  free  in  my  noggin  has  been  a  major  highlight  of  my  days.  you  are  as  wonderful  as  you  are  talented  and  i  am  so  thankful  to  have  you  in  my  life!!!!

@storiesbreathed  :  ALIIIII  you  are  genuinely  one  of  the  sweetest  and  kindest  people  i  know.  you  truly  are  like  the  first  warm  day  after  a  bitterly  cold  winter,  and  anyone  who  knows  you  is  so  lucky  to  know  your  warmth  and  to  have  the  privilege  of  basking  in  it.  and  can  we  talk  about  just  how  talented  you  are???  it’s  always  a  blessing  to  see  your  top  notch  writing  on  the  dash!!  like  you  ARE  stephanie  lauter  it’s  crazy.  i’m  looking  forward  to  another  year  of  giving  our  barbies  emotional  damage  together  asdfgs

@tarote  :  ROANNN  YOU  ABSOLUTE  ICON  YOU  !!  you  are  so  incredibly  talented  in  such  a  wide  a  variety  of  ways  it’s  insane.  your  graphics??  your  writing??  your  art??  your  sense  of  humor??  you  SERVE  bestie.  you  are  such  a  wonderful  person  and  friend  whose  creativity  and  humor  knows  no  limits  and  who  is  still  continuously  blowing  me  away  with  your  talent.  being  friends  with  you  is  like  being  welcomed  and  invited  to  sit  at  the  cool  kids  table  permanently  and  it’s  WONDERFUL  !

@troublemakerstm  :  BIRDIE  you  wonderful  human!!!!  the  kenzi  to  my  robin!!!!  you  are  simply  the  best  (if  i  got  that  song  now  stuck  in  your  head  uh oops  —  if  it’s  any  consolation  it’s  stuck  in  mine  🪦)  you  are  such  a  joy  to  talk  to  and  write  with!!  kenzi  and  robin  live  rent  free  in  my  head  —  anything  we  plot  and  write  just  automatically  becomes  canon  in  my  heart.  you  are  such  a  good  writer  and  such  a  good  friend  and  not  a  day  goes  by  where  i  won’t  be  grateful  to  have  you  in  my  life  the  way  robin  is  forever  grateful  to  have  kenzi  in  hers!!!  <3

@shadowedvales  :  FRANKIE  AKA  THE  JANE  IVES  OH  HOW  I  ADORE  YOU  SO  !!!  reconnecting  and  falling  back  into  our  rhythm  as  though  the  gap  time  created  never  existed  was  such  a  major  blessing.  you  are  one  of  my  favorite  people  to  talk,  plot  and  write  with,  and  i  will  never  ever  forget  how  you  so  happily  and  sweetly  entered  my  DM’s  to  be  like  ‘we’re  friends  now!’  after  i  had  lamented  on  the  dash  about  how  hard  making  friends  can  be  for  me.  (i’m  cursed  with  a  chronic  case  of  robin  buckley  syndrome)  that  kind  gesture  means  more  to  me  than  i  can  express,  and  i’ll  always  be  so  grateful  to  you  for  it.  you  are  such  a  wonderful  friend,  and  it’s  been  so  fun  hanging  out  on  calls  and  watching  ghosts  and  playing  barbies  together!!  (even  if  timezones  create  hiccups  sometimes!  :shakingfistemoji:)

@nuks  :  NUK  you  are  such  a  gem!!!  you’re  like  the  living  breathing  personification  of  this  emoji  🌇  you  are  just  so  warm  and  bright  and  you  light  up  the  dash  with  your  bubbly  personality  and  wickedly  creative  OC’s!!  i  love  reading  anything  of  yours  whether  it’s  IC  writing,  about  a  new  or  existing  OC  or  just  about  your  thoughts  or  something  fun  that  had  happened  to  you  —  anything  you  do  just  has  the  best  vibes  and  energy,  and  your  warmth  and  cheeriness  creates  this  gravitational  pull  where  anyone  and  everyone  who  feels  it  is  therefore  drawn  to  you.  you’re  wonderful  and  i’m  looking  forward  to  another  year  of  your  wonderful  self  on  my  dash!!

i  also  wanna  shoutout  those  i  admire  who’ve  made  my  dash  a  brighter  place  —  my  new  year’s  resolution  is  to  talk  &  write  more  ;  let’s  become  slumber  party  RSVP  status  BFFS  🙏💕  !!!

@t-errifier  @forwardmoved  @thrillor  @chth0nia  @hatchetbarbie  @mctcrcity  @unbelovd  @bittcnneck  @poiscn  @arachnaemboss  @coastercrushed  @animvs  @princessofpranks  @stadam  @avichor  @mcntra  @murkyhazed   &  YOU!  🥰  (  i  cannot  physically  tag  every  mutual  but  just  know  each  and  every  one  of  you  are  tagged  in  my  heart  <3  )

[bluarlequinno]

I agree, it seems too much of a coincidence for me that all the scenes that were cut were scenes that cut the thin line of their "platonic" "besties" relationship the movie tries to sell. It raises questions to their bond and puts Fiyero as the contestant of Glinda for Elphaba instead of Fiyero as the main romantic lead between the two girls.

Also coincidentally, Gelphie scenes are cut or toned down and Fiyero is written much more likeable, one that won't have people questioning the fact he is good and is on Elphaba's side, he's just so charming and nice and didn't even care Elphaba was green right?

Oh but Glinda did and had prejudice she's harder to swallow than Fiyero, he's written just to be good enough so that people look at him and not at the obvious tension between Glinda and Elphaba

I mean I do think, of what I've seen is that Ariana and Cynthia, of what I've inferred I cannot know I don't know them, but I do think they see the queerness of Elphaba and Glinda, but it's a media censorship problem.

As much as a liked the movie, it is clearly shying away a lot of the queerness purposefully, they don't actually are this queer diverse movie because when it's their main leads which they need to sell toys about, those they cannot confirm so no I don't think it was about time that they cut those scenes, they were purposefully afraid of it actually coming in text as a romantic relationship, although I suppose them releasing the scenes is more than nothing, but not everyone will watch them so it's easier to sell to those who won't

Wicked deleted scenes (jumping on the bed, I won’t leave you behind, sleeping and cuddling on the train) I’m convinced were not cut for time but because it would genuinely confuse audiences the nature of their relationship.

[chloesimaginationthings]

IS THAT JEREMY!?

I’M GLAD YALL NOTICED THIS DETAIL! To answer your question,,, oh yknow