#the video's not perfect but it's been a while

[covenofagatha]

Hey! I would love to give you an idea of your next fic!

How about G!p!Director!Agatha asks Actress!R if they can make a sex tape, so she won't be lonely that much when R is away for work(They're married). Turns out she feels even more lonely and hornier when R is away. She's going crazy when she sees her cum leaking out of R in the video. She's been sending R videos of her fucking fleshlight and express how much she needs R. And when R gets back home, they fuck like a horny teen. (Breeding would be perfect for this🤩🤩)

Thank you so much!! I love all your fics!!!🩷

Ohhh 🫠🥵 writing this one killed me in the best possible way

Baby, you're a star

Word count: 8.3k

Warnings: mommy kink, filming, GP Agatha, sex toys, breeding kink, masturbation, blowjobs, sex, oral sex, fingering, minor spanking, so much filth, porn with very little plot, I have never written this much smut in a single post

Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly

You’re running, running from something, and it’s closing in on you. Looking back over your shoulder, a terrified look on your face, you trip and end up sprawling onto the ground. 

It’s about to get you. Your eyes widen in fear, a loud sound coming from the distance —

“And…cut! That’s a wrap!” With the shout from your director, your character of Samantha Wren, a girl haunted by a dark creature from her past that finally catches up to her, melts away and you push yourself off the set floor, brushing your hands on your torn pants. 

The scene you just shot is the cliffhanger ending to the film, The Figure in the Walls, where Samantha is sprinting through the woods after realizing what the monster is, trying to get away. It’s unclear if she does, which leaves some room for a sequel. 

The movie’s director, Agatha Harkness, steps out from behind the cameras and slow-claps, smirking at you. You make a beeline for her and she wraps an arm around your shoulders and steers you away from the set. A PA jogs over and hands you a cup of coffee and a bagel. You’ve been filming for the past five hours, doing scenes from earlier that weren’t as good and finishing up the movie sequence, and you’re starving. 

“You did so good, honey,” Agatha murmurs into your ear and presses a quick kiss to your temple. 

It’s not a secret on set that the two of you are married, you both just prefer to keep it professional for the most part, at least when other people can see you. 

You first met Agatha at the Golden Globes about two and a half years ago. You had never met, but were both nominated for separate projects: you for Best Supporting Actress in a Comedy, and her for Best Director. A mutual friend had introduced you to her during a commercial break, and you hit it off instantly. 

There was almost something magnetic between you, and it just kept pulling you to her all night long. You won for your category, and so did she, and the picture of you two with your Globes is framed above the fireplace mantle in your mansion. 

You’re beaming at the camera while Agatha is staring down your dress, trying to look inconspicuous. When you tease her about it, she says she was just looking at the trophy. 

It’s unclear if she means the Globe, or you. 

She had invited you to go to an afterparty with her and you had immediately agreed. It was a quiet, intimate sort of thing with an open bar, and she had brazenly flirted while the warmth from the alcohol settled pleasantly in your stomach. 

After a few hours and after you had been practically sitting in her lap for quite some time, she said that she should get going, but asked for your number. 

You had clasped her cheeks and pulled her into a hot kiss right there and promptly dragged her out the door into your car and back to your apartment. 

A year and a half later, she asked you to marry her as you were walking along the Santa Monica Pier. The sun was setting, purples and pinks reflecting off the ocean waves, and you had never felt so happy in your entire life. You bought a mansion in Beverly Hills together, and you’ve lived there ever since. 

When Agatha first signed onto direct The Figure in the Walls, your name had been already thrown around as for who would play the lead. You still don’t know if she pulled some strings, and there was obviously gossip that you had only gotten the role because your wife was directing, but Agatha assured you that once everyone saw your performance, there would be no doubt that you had earned every part of it. 

“Thank you,” you whisper to your wife. You can’t believe the movie is finally done, but your turn-around is quick. Tomorrow, you fly out to meet with an agent in New York about a new film franchise in the works. If you land the lead role, it would be absolutely huge for your career. 

You will be gone for a week, though, and you and Agatha have been looking forward to some time for just yourselves. You’re eager to get home and at least have tonight, but with the wrap party and the closing speeches, it’s going to be awhile before you’re able to. 

Some of the other cast members come over and mingle while you sip on a soda, but you can feel Agatha’s eyes on you the whole time. At one point, you give in and glance over to where she’s sitting — all alone in her director’s chair for some reason, but she’s facing you. 

She uncrosses her legs and slouches back, casually putting a hand on her right upper thigh. Agatha ever so slightly spreads the fabric of her dark gray pants and you can see — she’s half-hard. Just from watching you, just from the thought of finally getting some quality time. You’ve made it work with the busy schedule, always finding a half hour for a quick fuck every now and then, but it’s been too long since you’ve been able to take your time. There’s the unspoken promise that neither of you will be sleeping much tonight. 

Swallowing roughly and trying to fight back the heat creeping into your cheeks, you turn back to your co-stars and try to look like you’re listening. 

And then finally everyone starts to leave. With Agatha being the director, she waits until every single member of the cast and crew has gone while you sit and impatiently tap your foot. 

“You ready?” Agatha asks and you jump out of your seat, eagerly nodding, and she laughs. “Looking forward to something?” 

“I can’t wait for you to fuck me, mommy,” you answer matter-of-factly and it catches her off-guard for the slightest second. 

It’s not often you’re this bold and straight-forward without her prompting. And she fucking loves it. 

The car is already waiting outside — you called it while you were waiting for everyone to leave — and the air between the two of you crackles with electricity. The tension is thick, but neither of you move to disturb it, instead just choosing to let it build until you’re in the sanctity of your home. 

But your breathing quickens and you can feel your underwear getting gradually wetter, the anticipation steadily rising. When you look over at your wife, you can see her fully-hardened cock straining against the fabric of her tailored pants and her long fingers are digging into her thighs, making her veins pop. 

It’s about twenty minutes later of lingering looks between darkened eyes when the car pulls into the driveway of your house. 

Agatha barely thanks the driver before you’re both scrambling out of the car and up to your front door. 

The moment it’s closed, you’re shoved against the pillar next to it, Agatha’s mouth on yours in a bruising kiss. 

“Fuck,” you moan, her tongue hotly licking against yours. She grunts in agreement before grabbing your wrists and holding them over your head, thrusting her right leg between yours. You can feel her cock, can feel the heat radiating off it, and you throb against it and swiftly grind down. 

She groans into your mouth and angles her leg up higher and you can feel her dick pulse, which makes the ache inside you grow unbearable. Your kiss has become sloppy, a flurry of teeth and lips and tongue, and she pulls back to trail her mouth down your neck. You hiss when she sucks a bite and it makes your hips jerk involuntarily. 

“Agatha — mommy, please,” you whimper, your cunt absolutely dripping. All of your thoughts are being consumed by her right now, and you just need more. You need her fingers, her mouth, her cock inside you, you need her. 

Agatha chuckles breathlessly, planting an open-mouth kiss on your lips. “What do you need, honey?” 

It’s almost frustrating that she’s making you say it, like it isn’t the most obvious thing in the world how desperate you are for her. “Can we — upstairs?” Your head is spinning and it feels like you’re drunk with need. 

If it were any other time, she would make you repeat it and ask clearly. But she knows, she always knows, and there’s no time to waste. 

She lets go of one of your wrists but pulls you by the other to the staircase and then stops on the third stair to kiss you again, like she can’t possibly wait. She sucks on your tongue and you gasp. 

“Fuck, mommy’s going to miss you tomorrow,” she mutters and in the haze in your head, you feel a slight pang of sadness. Agatha would’ve come with you, but she has a meeting here that she can’t miss either. It’s tough to be apart, even for just a week. 

But then the sentimental moment is gone and her teeth sink into your bottom lip, her hand coming up to rest around your throat. She barely even squeezes but it does wonders — you clench around nothing, eyes glazing over, and you let out a strangled gasp. 

Agatha smirks and tugs you the rest of the way to your bedroom. Shoes are kicked off and she quickly helps you take off the shirt and pants you changed into after filming and then you rip open the silk button-down shirt she’s wearing, sending buttons flying everywhere. She pushes down her pants and underwear and a ragged gasp tears itself out of your mouth when you see her cock, hard and red and leaking. 

You let out a small moan and move closer to touch it, but she stops you. 

“Honey,” she says, a bit timidly, and concern washes over you like a bucket of cold water. 

“What’s wrong, is everything okay?” you ask. She looks around, biting her lip like she’s not sure how to phrase it. “Hey, whatever it is, you can tell me. Is it something bad?” 

Agatha shakes her head. “No, it’s just something I was thinking of. Something I wanted to see if you’d want to try, just because you’re going to be away for a bit.” A flash of heat bursts through you — usually you’re the one who brings up wanting to try new things in the bedroom, but now that it’s Agatha, fuck, you can’t wait. 

“Yeah?” you breathe. 

“I was wondering if you’d let me film you — us. While we have sex,” she says and your cunt throbs. You’d never thought of it, but you can see it in your mind now. You can imagine how hot it would be to watch yourself take her cock. “So when you’re gone and I get lonely, I can watch it back and remember what a good girl you are for me.”

The praise settles right into your stomach and now you can’t stop thinking about Agatha stroking her cock while watching the two of you have sex. 

“You want to, what, direct me in a porno?” you ask, partly as a joke, but there’s no missing the involuntary sound that slips out of her lips, no missing the darkening of her already hungry eyes. “Fuck. Okay.” 

She looks a little surprised at your easy agreement, but presses a chaste kiss to your lips, and then another one, and then leaves the room. You sit down on your bed, the excitement almost overwhelming, and try to slow your racing heart. 

It’s only a minute before Agatha comes back, holding the iPad that she uses for work sometimes, and a stand for it. Has she been preparing for this? The thought sears through your veins and you feel yourself getting even more wetter. 

Her cock seems to get harder if possible as she sets it up close to the bed and the moment she nods and steps back, you feel a new-found sense of confidence wash over you. 

You’ve always come alive in front of the cameras, you thrive under being watched, and it feels no different now, even if you’re not becoming a character. 

It’s exhilarating. And you’re going to do your best to put on a show. 

“Move to the center of the bed,” Agatha orders, still watching through the screen. You swallow roughly and obey — you’ve always found it incredibly sexy watching her command a scene with just her words, and now that she’s doing it in this context? 

Fuck. 

You lean back against the pillows and look at her, awaiting her next instruction. Agatha nods and her eyes rake over you appreciatively. “Spread your legs and touch yourself over your underwear.” 

Moaning softly, you widen your legs and plant your feet flat on the bed so your knees are bent. And then you cup your pussy and your lips part involuntarily when you feel how wet you are. The fabric is absolutely drenched and you can see from the look on Agatha’s face that she can tell too. 

You slowly start to trace the outline of your pussy lips through your panties, up and down over your slit, and then when you circle over your clit finally, your back arches off the bed and you sigh heavily. The pleasure is so much more acute now — is it because of the camera? Because you know that Agatha is going to fuck herself later to this?

“There you go, honey,” your wife says approvingly. There’s a wild look in her eyes and her hands are twitching like she’s dying to touch her cock. The tip is even more red now, and you can see beads of liquid collecting and dripping onto the floor. Your hips jolt when you press down harder on your clit. “Take your underwear off and tease your entrance — but don’t go inside just yet.” 

You have to peel your panties off your sopping wet pussy and you teasingly toss them over to her. She catches them and lets out a surprised groan when she actually feels them. 

And then she lifts them to her nose and breathes in the scent of your wetness and your clit pulses. You try to focus on her instructions and glide a finger through your folds, molten hot and dripping. You dip into your pussy and then withdraw. You repeat and whimper at how good you know it’s going to feel when she finally lets you fuck yourself. 

“Slide one finger in slowly,” she demands and your head drops back as you do, the stretch nowhere near enough but still feeling delicious. Your walls immediately clench down around it and you moan. 

When you look back at Agatha, your hips roll of their own accord — she’s started stroking her cock with your underwear. You can see how she’s glistening with your wetness and she thrusts every few times like she can’t control it. 

“Mommy, can you…” Pleasure swims in your mind when you curl your finger and it interrupts your thoughts for a second. “Want you to be in the video, too.” You want to watch it back and see her as well.

Agatha inhales sharply. “Yeah, okay, babygirl. Whatever you want.” And then she steps around the iPad and comes into view of the shot, standing near the side of the bed so you can see each other more clearly. 

Her cock bobs up and down and you time your thrusts inside you with each of her strokes so you can imagine it’s her inside you. 

“Put another finger in,” she rasps and starts to speed up, your underwear moving frictionlessly over her with how wet it is. 

The addition of a second finger makes you groan loudly and you can’t even tell if you’re trying to show off for the camera or not. Everything is so much more heightened now. 

She makes you fuck yourself like that for about ten minutes, every now and then telling you to fuck yourself faster, babygirl and slow down, sweetheart and fuck, honey, you look so fucking hot for mommy. 

You’re a complete mess now, absolutely ruined and babbling incoherently, soaking the sheets beneath you. Your orgasm has been steadily building this whole time and you know it won’t be much longer before you cum. 

Agatha is also close by the looks of it; she’s completely flushed, her chest and neck tinted the prettiest pink, and her cock is leaking even more, her hips moving more sporadically. The ache inside you isn’t going away — it’s only getting worse the more you look at her. 

“Mommy,” you whine, needing to feel your wife on you more than anything. “Please, please fuck me.” 

“I know, baby,” she pants. “Just a second, let mommy move the camera.” And god, it makes you throb when she grabs the stand and angles it perpendicularly to the bed. 

And then she climbs on the bed and situates herself between your open legs and leans over you so she can drag her cock through your soaked folds. The gasp she lets out drives you crazy and you keen when she rubs her tip against your clit. 

“Beg for mommy,” she says, hair falling down over her face as she bites her lip. She positions herself right at your opening. 

“I need you so bad, please fill me up, please fuck me, I need you so bad, mommy —” She pushes into you in one motion and your mouth drops open. Your walls immediately clamp down around her and she groans at the feeling. 

It’s exactly what you need and when she starts to move, soft sounds fall from your lips with every thrust. 

She twitches inside you when you pull her down for a quick kiss. “God, I can’t wait to watch this,” she grunts and it makes you clench. Her hips stutter. “You’re so good, such a good slut for me. Taking my cock like a superstar. Fuck, honey, I’m going to watch the video everyday, gonna figure out how to make it my home screen.” 

The thought of Agatha opening up her phone to immediately see you being fucked by her makes you moan gutteraly and she huffs out a laugh. “Mommy, please.” 

“Fuck, baby, you really like this, don’t you?” You nod your head quickly under her and her cock throbs inside you. You’re so fucking close. She feels so good inside you, her cock dragging deliciously against your walls, and hitting that spot inside you that she always does. 

Pleasure is rolling over your body in waves and you lift your hips to meet each of her thrusts. It’s never been this intense before and you can’t believe you never thought to try filming sex before. 

Agatha’s rhythm starts to falter inside you, she’s cursing, short of breath. She reaches between you to rub at your clit with two fingers and it makes you sob with how good it feels. 

“Agatha, I’m so close,” you whine, beg. She ruts into you urgently, like she’s about to cum but needs to make sure you get there too, and she scrapes her teeth against your collarbone with a sharp thrust and presses on your clit and you explode, your orgasm tearing through your body and absolutely blowing your mind. 

Your walls convulse around her and she stiffens, her breathing tightening, and then she lets out a long moan and you feel her pulse before her seed spreads through your cunt. You gasp at the warmth and Agatha collapses on top of you. 

She lays there until she starts to soften before pulling out. Her cum starts to trickle out of your swollen pussy and you grind against nothing at the sensation but Agatha quickly jumps off the bed and grabs the iPad off the camera. 

You gasp when you figure out what she’s doing — Agatha holds your legs open and holds the camera down close to your pussy. 

“Spread your folds,” she directs, but without any of the authority she usually has. You reach down and do as she asks, more of her cum oozing out as you do. She swears under your breath. “Make yourself messy.” 

You know what she means. You collect the wetness between your legs, both hers and your own, and start to stroke it all over your cunt. 

“Fuck, honey, just like that,” she says and you rub your clit again, your body jerking under your own touch. “Clean your fingers.” 

And then she lifts the camera to film you sucking your two cum-covered fingers into your mouth. You moan at the taste of both of you and Agatha looks like she might ravish you all over again. 

The iPad gets tossed somewhere else on the bed and she leans over to kiss you before crawling down your body and cleans out her cum from inside you with her tongue.

Agatha doesn’t stop until she’s made you cum three more times. 

When you wake up in the morning, there’s a pleasant soreness in between your legs and the sheets are still slightly damp. Light has started to stream in through the curtains on the large windows and you roll onto your side to find that it’s 8 am. 

You have to be at the airport in an hour. 

“Fuck,” you curse and jump out of bed, rushing around to get dressed and throw some clothes into a suitcase. With the end of the film, you haven’t had much time to get ready for this trip, and you are sorely regretting it now. 

Agatha stirs while you’re trying to find the black dress for the cocktail party you have to go to in New York and mumbles something. You pause and wait for her to repeat herself. “Why don’t you come back to bed?” she asks suggestively, picking her head up to watch you. 

“Babe, I have to be at the airport in an hour,” you say apologetically. “How do you still have energy after last night?” 

Agatha chuckles and gets out of bed, coming over to wrap her arms around your shoulders from behind. You can feel her semi-erection through your suit pants. “I just always want to fuck you,” she murmurs into your ear and you debate whether or not you have enough time. 

In the end, logic wins and you twist in her arms to give her a quick peck on the lips. “I’m sorry. When I get back I’ll make it up to you. Plus,” you say, eyebrows raising mischievously, “you have that video from last night.” The memory of making it heats through you — Agatha directing you on how to touch yourself. 

You will definitely need to revisit that in the future. 

But it does very little to quell Agatha’s lust and she grumbles as she goes to get dressed. “Maybe, when you get back, I’ll make you cockwarm me while we watch our little home movie and if you make one move, I won’t let you cum for a week.” 

The idea runs straight through you right into your cunt and you seriously debate saying fuck it to New York entirely. 

But an hour later, Agatha’s pulling up to the airport to drop you off and giving you a tight hug while she whispers in her ear how much she loves you. 

You miss her the second you walk into the terminal, but you try to focus on preparing for your trip. There’s a few dinners, meetings, and parties that you’re expected to attend, just to get to know the right people for the next project that you could potentially be in. You know the other actresses being considered will also be there, so you need to be on your A-game. 

And you’re able to focus for the entire plane ride, memorizing parts of the script they gave you, and when you land, you pull out your phone to text Agatha that you made it, only to find that she’s already messaged you a few times. 

I miss you already, honey. 

Hope you have a great time in NY! I know they’ll love you. 

I wish I didn’t have to be here for this stupid meeting. I’d have loved to be there with you. 

The first ones make you smile at how sweet your wife can be. But then the next couple are enough to reignite the fire in your stomach from earlier. 

I miss your pussy, babygirl. 

Can’t wait for you to come home so I can taste you. 

Fuck, baby, mommy is so hard for you. 

You’re too caught up in the messages to realize that your row is moving and the person in the middle seat taps your shoulder to get your attention. You startle and mutter an apology, hoping he didn’t accidentally see anything she sent you. 

As you’re getting checked into the hotel, you get another text from your wife and the second you open it, you have to slam your phone down on the receptionist’s desk. She gives you a weird look but you pretend not to see it. 

Watching the video — mommy loves watching her cum drip out of you. Fuck, honey. I’m going crazy. 

Your heart is pounding, blood rushing to your cheeks, and you quickly take your room key and hurry up to the room. You press the call button and put your phone on speaker so you can start unpacking. 

Agatha answers immediately. “Hey, sweetheart,” she says, the most casual you’ve ever heard, and you clench your jaw. 

“Agatha, what are you doing? I haven’t even been gone six hours. You’re going to kill the both of us!” 

Her low chuckle makes you squeeze your legs together involuntarily. “I’m actually all right, baby. Remember that fleshlight you got me as a gag gift last Christmas?” 

Fuck. “Agatha,” you say warningly. You have to be at a steakhouse in about thirty minutes — you don’t have time for her to get you all worked up. You were so distracted this morning you didn’t even bring any of your toys with you either. 

“Of course it’s not as good as the real thing,” she sighs, and you can hear a soft slapping noise on the other side. You feel dizzy with heat. 

“Are you…” you trail off, not even sure you could say the rest out loud. Could you pretend to be sick tonight? 

Agatha lets out a little moan and you’re sure it must be for show, just to rub it in. “Fucking this toy and pretending it’s your pussy?”

You can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips and you have to sit down on the bed. “Fuck, mommy,” you whine and she laughs cruelly. 

“Don’t you have that dinner to get ready for?” she asks and with a sinking feeling in your stomach, you know what’s going to happen. You hum, almost wishing you would’ve lied. Agatha grunts, the slapping sound speeding up, and you have to close your eyes. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Love you.” 

She hangs up before you can protest and you’re forced to get into the shower, the heat in your stomach burning more than the water, and your hand makes its way between your legs to furiously rub your clit. 

You cum in about three minutes. 

You can barely focus at dinner with the thought of her using a fleshlight, one that you got her as a joke nonetheless. Her hard thrusts into the toy, picturing your mouth or pussy. 

When you finally get back to the hotel, you’re absolutely exhausted. The travel, being teased by Agatha, and now that dinner where you had to pretend like your body wasn’t screaming for you to get on a plane and go home to your wife wiped you out, and you barely press send on a goodnight text to her before you’re passed out. 

The next few days pass in a blur with events jam-packed into your schedule and you hardly have any time to talk to Agatha. She’s good for the most part, with the occasional dirty text every now and then. 

But on your second-to-last day in New York, she starts to play a different game. 

You’re sightseeing, checking out the American Museum of Natural History, when your phone buzzes. It’s a video from Agatha. 

You don’t really think much and you click on it and your jaw drops as your entire body freezes. 

It starts out shaky and it takes a few moments for it to focus, Agatha clearly in the middle of something. And then it points down and you see Agatha fucking the fleshlight. 

Turn your phone off your brain screams. But it’s as if you’re stuck, your eyes glued to the screen to watch her thrust over and over into the silicone toy. She’s holding it with her left hand, her phone in her right, and her hips are driving her cock into the fake pussy hard. You can almost feel her cock inside you, as if the toy and you are connected. 

She’s going faster and you wish more than anything you weren’t out in public so you could turn up the volume and hear her moaning, hear if she’s saying anything. It cuts off right as she’s about to cum. You have no doubt that you will be very busy with the video once you get back to your room. 

And by the time you get back to the hotel, she’s sent you another one. Luckily, you don’t have anything for two hours, so you’re free to do whatever you want. 

You’re almost afraid to click on it, and you shimmy off your jeans and underwear preemptively. You’ve been worked up for so long and you’ve barely had a chance to touch yourself and you breathe a sigh of relief when your fingers press against your clit. 

Clicking on the new video, your pussy spasms when you realize what you’re watching. 

Agatha has the iPad set up on the table, the video of you two open and playing. It’s strange to see your own face contorted with pleasure on film while Agatha tells you how to touch yourself. 

And then in the lower half of the video she just sent is her, thrusting into the fleshlight again. 

“Fuck,” you whisper. She’s fucking the toy while watching you fuck yourself. You turn the volume all the way up so you don’t miss anything and her little grunts with each drive only turn you on more. 

Your wetness makes a squelching sound when you drag your fingers up and down through your folds and when you come back up to circle at your clit, there’s almost no friction. 

“God, babygirl, mommy can’t wait for you to come back,” Agatha groans and it makes your heart skip a beat. On the iPad, Agatha has slid her cock into you and you’re in awe at how hot it is watching yourself get fucked. 

It becomes quite clear to you that Agatha’s idea of having you cockwarm her while watching this video would not bode well for you. There is absolutely no way you’d be able to stay still, as evidenced by your squirming hips grinding against your hand right now. 

Agatha takes her cock out of the fleshlight, puts it down, and strokes her hand quickly over it and a flash of heat bolts through you when you see it glistening. And then she places the toy on the table and teases her tip against the opening, sliding it up and down, you keen and your back arches off the bed. 

All you’re doing is touching your clit a little. 

On the iPad, Agatha’s speeding up and you’re whimpering underneath her. In the video you just got, she starts to slowly push her cock back into the fleshlight. 

In your hotel room, you shove two fingers inside you, moaning at the stretch, and begin to thrust in time with Agatha, who is thrusting in time with the video you made. 

“Fuck, honey, I need your pussy,” she babbles and you curl your fingers just right, a moan slipping out of your mouth. “Can’t wait to fuck you when you come back, can’t wait to fill you up.” 

Her thrusts are becoming shallower into the toy, her sounds getting louder, and you’re right there with her. 

You’re determined not to cum before she does, even though it’s a video and you could speed it up to cum with her. But you don’t want to miss a thing. 

Turns out, you don’t have to wait too long, because when Agatha on the iPad moves the camera close to your pussy after she came inside you, her cum gushing out of you, that’s it for your wife. 

“You feel so good,” Agatha says on the video before letting out a long moan and thrusting roughly one more time into the fleshlight. She stiffens and grunts and then pulls her cock out and lowers her phone so you can see her cum still spurting out onto the lips of the fleshlight. 

That makes you cum almost immediately and you clamp a hand over your mouth so you don’t get any neighbors in the hotel wondering what you’re up to. 

The video ends shortly after that and leaves you gasping for breath on the bed. You type out a quick Can’t wait to get home tomorrow and hit send. Thankfully, your plane leaves in the morning so you’ll be home soon.

Agatha immediately sends you back a wink emoji and then an eggplant emoji, making you laugh. 

After the last dinner, you watch the video again and make yourself cum two more times. 

It’s been the longest week of your life, and when the agent for the franchise drops you off at the airport, you barely remember to shake her hand. 

“We’ll be in touch,” she says. “But between you and me, I think you have a very good shot of getting this part.” 

Even through the horny fog in your mind, you realize just how big of a deal this is and you can’t wait to tell Agatha. 

You call her while you’re waiting to board and tell her. 

“Honey, that is amazing,” she gushes and your heart swells. Agatha has been your number one cheerleader since you met. 

“You know I’d be spending a lot of time in New York. If you could barely last a week, imagine how hard that would be,” you joke. 

Agatha snorts. “I’d come visit you all the time. Or I’ll just quit my job and become your trophy wife.” 

The thought of the legendary director quitting her job for anyone makes you laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Got to get on the plane, Mrs. Harkness. I’ll see you in a few hours.” 

“I can’t wait, baby,” she says, her voice dropping an octave and making your stomach warm. 

The entire plane ride, you can’t stop thinking about Agatha — about her hands, her mouth, her legs, her cock. 

Would anyone notice if you pulled up that video again? Maybe you could go to the bathroom. With how you’re feeling right now, you wouldn’t need more than a few minutes. 

And it only gets worse when you finally land and a car is already waiting for you to take you back. Excitement vibrates under your skin as you get closer to your house and you have to fan yourself to calm down. You can already feel your underwear sticking to you uncomfortably — lacy purple lingerie you brought on the trip just so you could wear it home. 

When the car pulls into your driveway, you tip the driver and try to walk up to the door as slowly as possible, not wanting to seem too urgent. 

The front door opens right when you get there and your wife is standing there, two glasses of red wine in her hand, casual pants and a tank top on, hair in a loose ponytail. You’re not sure she’s ever looked so hot. 

“Hi,” you breathe, shutting the door behind you and leaning in for a quick kiss. Agatha deepens it and presses a glass into your hand and you take a long gulp. 

“How was the flight?” she asks, sipping on her own wine. You drop the suitcase in the foyer and walk into your living room before plopping down on the white couch. She follows and sits next to you, her thigh touching yours. 

Your heart is pumping so fast and you couldn’t care less about the flight because you’re finally here, with her. So you take her wine glass and put it on the coffee table with yours before climbing into her lap and kissing her roughly. 

She makes a slightly surprised “oomph” before her tongue is in your mouth, entangling with yours, her hands creeping under your shirt and stroking up and down the skin of your sides. Her fingers are cold and they make you gasp. 

“I missed you so much,” you murmur against her mouth and grind down hard on her rapidly growing bulge. She hisses and digs her fingernails into you. “You fucking tortured me.” 

She laughs breathlessly, tugging on your bottom lip with her teeth. “I thought the video would help. It just made it so much fucking worse,” she admits and your entire body heats up. “I was so lonely — so horny — fuck, baby.” She loses her train of thought when you kiss down her neck and nip. 

“I need your cock so bad,” you whimper, having thought of little else for the last twenty-four hours. You slide off her lap and onto the floor between her legs, your body moving faster than your mind, and you’re undoing her pants before either of you realize what you’re doing. 

You pull her cock out and lick up the length with your flattened tongue and the sound she makes, somewhere between a gasp and a groan, goes straight to your cunt. She slouches more onto the couch so it’s easier for you to start lathering your saliva all over her. Her hips thrust up every now and then, and when you take the tip in and hollow your cheeks out, her ass fully lifts off the couch. 

“God, honey, you suck mommy’s cock so well,” she whimpers and it spurs you on to go further down. There’s an ache in your stomach already and you can feel your wetness on your upper thighs. 

Agatha’s hand tangles in your hair, but just rests and lets you go at your own pace. You can feel her twitch against your tongue and you suck harder. 

“Baby, god, fuck — you’re so hot, mommy loves your mouth,” Agatha rambles and she throbs when her cock hits the back of your throat and you gag, tightening around her. She’s not going to last long, you can feel her pulsing and swelling, her cock growing heavier on your tongue. You think you could cum right now if you touched yourself. 

You look up at her through your eyelashes and she groans like she’s in pain and then you pull your mouth off her, gasping for breath, while strands of spit still connect your lips to her cock. “Use me, mommy,” you say hoarsely and her hips involuntarily jump. “Fuck my mouth.” 

This time, when you take her cock again, she thrusts her cock deep into your throat over and over. The only sounds in the room are you gagging and her moaning. 

“Fuck, honey, I’m going to cum,” she pants and you nod slightly before trying to say something around her cock. But the vibrations against her feel too good and she stiffens before spurts of her cum fill your mouth. She slows her thrusts while she pumps her seed down your throat and you take it all, groaning at the somewhat salty taste. 

She pulls out, cock soft, and slumps onto the couch and you wipe a strand of cum off your lip and suck it from your finger. You shift on your knees and she tracks the motion with her eyes, smirking wickedly. 

“I always forget how hot and bothered sucking my cock gets you,” she purrs and then jerks her head to the couch. “Take your clothes off and lay down.” 

You swallow roughly and get to your feet before teasing her by slowly taking your clothes off. Her fingers dig into the couch beneath her and her limp cock twitches just a bit when you reveal that you’re wearing her favorite lingerie. She’s always been able to recover relatively quickly and your mouth waters at the thought that, soon enough, you’ll have her inside you. 

Once you’re naked, you settle on your back, one leg up over the pillows and your other foot resting on the floor, baring your dripping cunt to her. The look in her eyes is positively ravenous and she tosses the hair that’s come loose from her hair tie over her shoulder before situating herself so that she’s on her knees in front of you. 

And then she leans down and runs her tongue through your folds — which are practically fused together with how wet you are — and you keen. 

“Mommy,” you gasp, back arching. She chuckles against you and the feeling makes you moan. “I need you, please.” 

She teases you a little, her tongue circling around your clit but never quite touching it, and your hips grind up to try to get just a little more stimulation. One of her hands trails up your body to pinch your nipple right as she sucks on your clit and you’ve never made such a high-pitched sound in your life. 

Your noise drags a strangled moan from her mouth and her hips jerk. She starts to devour you, her tongue lashing against your clit and then thrusting inside you as far as she can go. Her other hand digs into your thigh, holding it open and using it for leverage just the same. 

It takes you a little bit to notice what she’s doing — her hot mouth on your pussy has made your brain go completely fuzzy — but when you pick up on her flattened out body on the couch and her ass flexing in a steady rhythm, you clench violently around her tongue. 

Agatha is grinding her cock against the couch. Eating you out for three minutes has gotten her so hard that she’s desperately getting any stimulation that she can. 

Her fingers continue to tug and roll your nipple and her mouth is furiously lapping at your cunt and you can feel yourself getting so close. 

“Please, mommy, Agatha, I’m —” you whine and her hand on your leg removes itself before she quickly slides two fingers into you while she rubs her tongue against your clit. Your walls bear down immediately around her and she curls them up and presses deep inside you. It makes you sob and your hips move on their own accord to chase the orgasm that is about to wash over you. 

Agatha’s thrusts against the couch are getting more and more sloppy and she’s moaning against your cunt like she’s never been more content in her life. Your breathing becomes short and shallow and tingles spread through your entire body. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” You can’t even finish your sentence before she sucks roughly on your clit and sends you right over the edge. Your vision goes white for a second, completely overwhelmed with pleasure as she keeps fucking you through your orgasm. She doesn’t stop, and although you have no doubt you’d be able to cum again in no time at all, it’s been too long without her cock inside you. 

You tug at her hair weakly until she finally stops and looks up at you, her nose and the entire bottom half of her face absolutely coated with your wetness. Heat flares through your stomach and you almost shove her right back down between your legs. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Agatha coos and you whimper at her sweet voice. “Do you need more? Do you need mommy’s cock?” 

When you nod eagerly, Agatha grins and crawls back up to her knees and you moan when you see her cock. It’s just as hard as it was before — maybe even harder? Is that possible? — and so red. It looks almost painful. 

She bends over you and slides her cock against your entrance, both of you letting out heavy sighs of relief. “Wait,” you choke out, and she stops. You need to feel her deeper. 

You turn over from your position on your back and get on your knees and elbows so that your ass is straight up in the air. Agatha sharply inhales and her hands cup your asscheeks before giving each one a little spank simultaneously. 

Agatha drags her cock through your folds and then circles your clit with it, the feeling of her skin against yours making you keen. 

And then she pushes into you, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan. Agatha mews once she bottoms out and holds still for a second, savoring the feeling of your walls milking her. 

She starts to move, not even giving you a chance to adjust before setting a fast pace, her hips making a sound every time they slap against your ass. She’s filling you up so good, hitting a spot so deep inside you that makes you gasp each time, and your head drops to rest on your elbows while you start to push back against her thrusts. 

Her pace stutters when you clench around her and she grabs onto your hips so tightly that your chest warms at the possibility of having bruises so you can remember just how good she fucked you. She practically slams you back and forth on her cock and there are no other thoughts in your head, no other words you can say, besides “Mommy!” 

“I know, babygirl,” she rasps. “You’re taking my cock so well — fuck, I think this pussy was made for me. You were made for mommy’s cock, weren’t you?” 

“Yes, god, yes, I was,” you pant, letting her completely use you. It’s like she’s just fucking her fleshlight and, god, that shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. 

She spanks your ass again and the familiar feeling of your orgasm rises steadily in your stomach. You can feel Agatha’s cock throbbing inside you with each thrust, can hear her groans become less restrained as she loses composure for the second time, and you need more. 

Your hand snakes down between your body and couch to rub at your clit and your walls instantly clench around Agatha. 

“Fuck, babygirl, mommy’s about to cum,” she gasps and it only drives you closer. 

You press on your clit while her drives become short and fast, effectively knocking the wind out of you every time. “Cum inside me, mommy, want you to breed me,” you breathe and she falters for a second, a loud, guttural moan tearing from her lips, before recovering and fucking you even harder. 

“Yeah, honey, mommy’s gonna breed you,” she babbles in agreement, an urgency you usually don’t hear from her lacing her tone. When you fuck, she usually does cum inside you anyway, but there’s something about asking her to breed you that turns you on beyond words. Seems like it has a similar effect on her too. 

Tears gather in your eyes as she keeps thrusting into you and you’re not even aware that you’re cumming before your body spasms and jerks around her, and you keep frantically rubbing your clit to prolong the feeling spreading through you. 

Your pussy convulses around her and she stills, grunting lowly, and then her cock stutters a few times inside you before pulsing and you whimper at the feeling of her cum spreading through you, and fuck, you’re so full. 

Agatha stays inside you for a few moments, both of you enjoying the feeling, before pulling out. You curse under your breath when her cum oozes out of you in globs and Agatha runs and grabs a towel to clean you up. 

You swear when she rubs the towel over your pussy, she brushes against your clit on purpose, and it makes you wince. You’re already sensitive from your two explosive orgasms and you don’t know if you could take anymore. 

She helps you stand and the two of you walk up the stairs together, whispering sweet nothings and exchanging soft kisses, and then once you get to your room, Agatha turns on the shower while you sit on the edge of the tub and wait for it to warm up. 

“I think next time you leave, I should come with you no matter what so I can fuck you every night for the rest of our lives,” she jokes and you laugh. 

“Why did we even make that sex tape then?” you tease. 

Her eyebrows wiggle teasingly and she comes closer to you and tugs you off the tub. “I seem to remember you liking that quite a bit. Plus, now when I’m at work and I get bored, I can just pull out my phone and watch what a good slut you are for me.” 

Despite you being completely worn out, there’s no ignoring the heat that runs through when she says that. “God, you’re insatiable,” you say, mockingly dropping your jaw, and she chuckles before kissing your lips. 

And then she opens the door to the shower for you both to get in and sinks to her knees in front of you. You gasp. 

“You love it,” she says before licking through your swollen pussy and you have to lean back against the wall. 

Yes, you do. 

[luxcuriousao3]

Expanding on this.

warnings: perv!König, noncon groping, somno, titfucking

-

Best Friend!König who’s obsessed with your tits.

You’ve known each other since childhood, and while he shot up in height, you shot up in bra size. And König noticed. Mien Gott, did he notice.

He was around fifteen when he realized for the first time just how nice your breasts felt against his big body when he hugged you, so soft and warm. He started taking any excuse to give you long, drawn out hugs—though of course he told himself it was just because he loved you so much. You were the only person who didn't bully him, after all.

He rationalized how his gaze started to end up on your cleavage more often than your face, too. He was just so tall, that even if he tried to look into your eyes—and he did, Schatz, he really did! You have to believe him, he tried so hard—he could see straight down your top, anyway.

And, well, he was no saint—just a man. And your tits were so pretty.

Could you really blame him for looking? He just wanted to admire you…

He always insisted on driving you places once he got his license—he was a good friend, after all, and he liked being useful. That he got to throw his arm out across your soft chest every time the car in front of him stopped too suddenly was just a bonus.

As the years passed by, his obsession grew—especially after he found porn. Most nights, he fisted his long, fat cock to videos of women who looked like you having their breasts played with, abused, worshipped. He preferred the latter, but he couldn’t deny there was something thrilling about the idea of slapping your soft tits and watching them jiggle. He would be sure to kiss them better after, though.

Once, after a particularly rough mission, König showed up at your place beaten to hell, eyes scarily hollow. You immediately let him inside, pulled him down onto your couch, and held him as he cried. He laid his head on your chest, seeking the comfort only your breasts could give him, and you shushed him softly as you petted his hair. He wished desperately in that moment that he could pull your top down, latch onto one of your cute little nipples, and suckle to his heart’s content, but he settled for leaning more and more of his weight on you until you had to lay back on the couch, him on top of you with his face buried in between your tits as he feigned sleep.

He was far too heavy for you to move yourself, and clearly, you felt bad for him, because you let him stay like that the whole night rather than wake him up.

On your twentieth birthday, König made sure he would have two whole weeks of leave, so he could spend time with you and your perfect breasts. He didn’t have the best relationship with his family, and you didn't have a roommate at Uni, so you let him stay in your dorm. You weren’t going to make your best friend sleep on the floor, of course, so the two of you shared a bed. Nothing untoward happened until the fourth night, when you both got outrageously drunk. You curled up in the tiny bed together when you got back from the pub, and promptly knocked out.

When you woke up the next morning, though, it was to one of König’s massive paws slipped under the neck of your dress, cupping your left tit.

To say you freaked out was an understatement.

You jumped up like you arse was on fire, hollering at him, demanding to know what the fuck he thought he was doing. König, who had been dead asleep, actually fell out of the bed, looking up at you for once, his big, perpetually sad eyes wide with complete confusion and a little bit of fear. When he realized what you were accusing him of, he started stuttering apologies, mortified with himself. You thought it was because he had unintentionally groped you in his sleep, which was partially true. But the main reason he was so upset was because he hadn’t even gotten to enjoy it. He’d held your beautiful breasts for the very first time and he hadn’t even known! The thought made him tear up, and you quickly forgave him, telling him that you believed him—"Accidents happen."

Every time it happened after that, König let you believe it was still an accident.

The more time he spent in the military earning his fearsome reputation and seeing terrible horrors, the bolder he grew. Now, when he visited you in your flat and gave you those sad puppy eyes until you let him sleep in bed with you rather than on the couch, he did not merely cup your breast at night. He played with your nipples, rolling the sensitive little buds between his fingers, tugging and pinching and delighting in the sleepy sounds of pleasure you let out. You tended to wake up if he got his mouth on them though, so he restrained himself—at least until he was able to get you drunk. You slept like dead when you were wasted, and he had free reign over your amazing tits. He squeezed and sucked, kissed and licked, even fucked them, once. He’d been a little drunk too, that night, or he wouldn't have risked it—but seeing his massive cock nestled between your breasts was like a revelation. He found God in the warm embrace of your tits, and he made an offering in the form of his seed, spilling it all over your chest, neck, and lips.

It felt blasphemous to clean his come from your skin, like he was desecrating a sacred altar, but he knew you would hate him if you discovered what he’d done. And he couldn’t have that—he loved you, he always had and always would. You and your heavenly breasts.

[chkrschss]

Me looking at the response to my latest video:

MWAHAHAHAHAHA YESSSSSS. Feel the pAINNNN.

No joke tho. The concept of SQQ saying something hurtful to SQH is so strong in my brain. Like he’s gotta have said like a few things that actually went under SQH’s skin. Maybe not a lot. But just imagine that SQH has been having the shittiest week. And this is just the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

Bro. It’s perfection. I can see it so vividly. SQH just shuts down and walks away from SQQ, who doesn’t even know what he did. Perfect miscommunication. SQH wallows in sorrow while SQQ thinks everything is fine. Outwardly, SQH seems to be the same but that isn’t true.

I think SQH sincerely did want PIDW to be good but the fact of the matter is that he needed money. I don’t blame him. But man… to see your creation not live up to the potential it could’ve had stings.

This is all my headcanon tho. I think SQH is a man of many faces. He’s both insanely organized and on top of things (he’s gotta. Man’s running two full time jobs). He’s also Going Through It™ and will show it if he wants to. Emphasis on wants to. He’s got an image to keep up, after all.

Anywho! I’m glad people are enjoying the pain I’ve created :D SVSSS has invaded all of my thoughts and I love having a little scrimblo to pick apart in my mind.

[kawhh]

dark!jack taking videos of you when you don’t notice. whether under your skirt that he always suggests you wear or when he’s buried inside of you and you’re out of it (bc he may have slipped something to help you sleep), he watches them whenever he can’t be home with you.

maybe one day he puts cameras in to watch you when he’s on roadies, just to take care of you

I will kiss you through the screen. This is a threat. Sorry nonnie, this is long.

He's been so frustrated with having to be separated from you so often even though he loves his job. The fact that he can't see how your eyes roll back as he fucks you? Can't see how you cry? Can't see how well you take him? Can't see how big he is compared to you? The stretch of your cute little pussy as he forces his way in? The curve of your perfect ass under his favourite skirt? Criminal.

You're so innocent, you won't even facetime with him and talk dirty. You get all squirmy and red the minute he says something suggestive. What he'd give for you to be confident enough to at least touch yourself for him so he can see slightly.

It does give him an idea though... Just because you aren't confident enough, doesn't mean he can't make his own content. He finds it adorable, but he's getting manic. He's researching cameras on his roadies - taking advantage of the fact that you can't possibly find out.

He doesn't want some shit, blurry video footage. He wants 4k. He wants to see the cum leak out of you around his dick. He wants to see how soaked your thighs are. He wants to hold you open so he can get footage of how stretched you are from him. He wants footage of how your underwear barely covers your ass under your skirt. Needs to see his release paint your throat.

He needs you out of it for this plan to work. You'll ask him what the camera is for, you'll freak out, you'll protest, you'll whine and complain. He can't have that - he needs this footage.

You'd never suspect that he's added something special to your tea - you're so thankful that he's made it for you while you're in bed. You don't even notice the tiredness kicking in. Why would you? You've been stressed from work, it's perfectly natural. You don't see him crawling over you with a manic smirk, reaching for his zipper. You're barely concicious when he lifts your legs over his hips.

He's being so gentle, not wanting your body to fight the drug too hard. Taking his time getting the right angles, forcing your tight little body to slowly stretch around him. He's practically drooling as he eventually loses it. Running his fingers through the leaking cum, stuffing it back into you to get more footage of how it seeps through the small gap between his dick and your walls.

He gets addicted to watching the footage of you on his trips. He just needs more. More of everything. More of you existing. Putting makeup on? He wants to see it. Sleeping? He wants to check. Touching yourself? He needs to watch. He's got the money to install a whole camera setup in the apartment and he's sure as fuck gonna do it. You'll never have to know..

[celenexox]

Hardlaunch - Matt Sturniolo

pairings: bf!matt x softgf!reader

summary: when you suggest to your boyfriend matt the idea of hardlaunching your relationship

warnings: fluff, kissing

you and your boyfriend matt have been dating for five months now, and no one except close friends and family knew, you both didn’t want his fans to get in the way of the relationship so you kept it hidden from the public

but as you started to analyze things clearly, you noticed that a lot of girls would hit on him, off and online, you wanted everyone to know that he was yours

you were gonna meet up with him today, and that’s when the idea came to you

——————————————————————-

you open the door to let matt in “hey baby!” you say inviting him into your arms, you pull out the hug to face him and look him in the eyes, “okay so i have an idea”

“what is it?” he replies, sorta skeptical by the way of your tone

“it’s nothing bad! i don’t think.. okay so how do you feel about a hardlaunch?”

he looks at you all confused “why did you randomly think of this now? also you know how crazy the fans are, there’s no way anything good can come from this”

by the way of his words, you start to get a little hesitant, but you still wanted everyone to know that the two of you were together, so you knew you weren’t going to give up trying “it won’t be anything crazy, we can post it on my instagram, it doesn’t even have to be a youtube video”

“i still want to know where this came from” he says while crossing his arms

“im just tired of keeping everything secret you know? why’s it so bad that people find out that we’re dating, we are dating are we not?”

“yes of course we are dating” he sighs before continuing to speak again “okay you know what fine, but nothing too crazy”

you kiss him on the cheek “yay!” and to be honest with yourself you weren’t convinced that he was going to agree

you two were now in your room together, he stops to ask “so what are we going to do exactly?”

“just trust me” you reply, starting to add red lipstick on

he chuckles slightly “okay..”

you finish applying the lipstick and turn to kiss him, he was caught by surprise but embraces your lips on his

he pulls out, all out of breath “great now i have your lipstick on me”

“that’s the point..” you reply, giving him a grin

you then pull out your camera and snap a few photos, matt starting to understand what is happening, “i like the way you think”

you giggle at his comment and turn the camera to see the pictures

he looks at you and says “these are perfect”.

[jhyoos]

REBEL GIRL

rockstar sevika x influencer reader

Chapter 10: Family Reunion

summary : (y/n) takes sevika to her annual family reunion.

mentions : homophobia, lil angst, angry sevika, competitive sevika, drunk sevika, fame au, modern au, happy ending, time skip, fast paced beginning, sevika being a passenger princess, domestic sevika

notes: last chapter yall…😔 just a psa it’s been a total of 5 1/2 months (y/n) and Sevika have been together after the end

You were seated in first class, but the quiet wasn’t comforting—it felt strange, almost unsettling, after weeks of chaos. No Caitlyn lightly humming a tune while tapping out a melody on her keyboard. No Jinx banging out a rhythm on any surface she could find, nor Vi throwing mock punches into the air while Sevika teased her with bass riffs. It was just you now, left to your thoughts and the buzzing emptiness.

You leaned back, headphones over your ears, but even the music didn’t drown out the vivid memories. Watching them all on stage had been electric: Vi’s commanding voice tearing through the air as her fingers shredded the guitar strings, Jinx drumming like she was setting the world on fire, and Sevika—wild and untamed—plucking her bass with enough intensity to send the crowd into a frenzy. Caitlyn was the calm amidst the chaos, playing her keys and singing backing vocals with a steady, elegant precision that balanced the energy of the others.

You missed it all: the long road trips, the ridiculous banter, the post-show exhilaration, and of course, Sevika—completely in her element, sweating and grinning like a maniac as the fans screamed her name. You sighed, pulling out your phone and setting up your camera on the tray table in front of you. The angle wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

After connecting your microphone to ensure the audio was crisp, you pressed record.

“Hey, guys,” you began, offering a small, tired smile. “So... this is it. I’m officially done touring with Shattered Souls. I’m back to personal bigger things and most definitely the biggest high of my career. By the time I post this video, they’ll still be out there, tearing it up on stage. If you can, seriously, buy a ticket to the nearest city. Watching them live is something else. Trust me, it’s worth it.”

You paused, the faint hum of the airplane filling the silence as you gathered your thoughts.

“I just wanna say, before I close this video off, that I had the time of my life with them. They are genuine, talented, and absolutely insane—in the best way possible. They love their fans, they love their music, and they give it everything they’ve got every single night.

“Honestly, when Caitlyn first messaged me asking if I wanted to collab with her band, I thought it was a terrible idea.” You laughed, shaking your head at the memory. “But it turned out to be the best mistake of my life. Because of that, I met Sevika, and I love her so much. Like... a ridiculous amount.”

The smile on your face softened as the emotions bubbled up.

“I’ve also grown to connect with all of them like family. Vi’s chaotic energy, Jinx being, well, Jinx, Caitlyn’s calm genius... and Sevika—who’s somehow even crazier on stage than Vi and Jinx combined. These people have become such an important part of my life, and I know I’ll keep that connection with them.

“If you haven’t checked them out or their music yet, their Spotify link will, of course, be below along with their Instagrams. Go give them a listen. Seriously, do it.”

You took a deep breath, letting your smile linger a little longer.

“And, uh, yeah... this is your favorite YouTuber logging off. Until next time.”

You stopped the recording, turning off the microphone on your phone. The screen went blank, but your thoughts raced. You missed them already—missed the energy, the madness, the shared moments of triumph after a show. But this wasn’t the end, you reminded yourself. It was just the beginning of a new chapter.

Leaning back into your seat, you closed your eyes, the faint echoes of their last performance still buzzing in your ears. You couldn’t wait for the moment you’d reunite, and until then, you’d hold onto every memory like a lifeline.

“Yes, Sevika, I am on the way,” you grumbled into the phone as you slid into the driver’s seat and started your car. It had been a whole month since you’d last seen Sevika and the others. A long month. During that time, your last video blew up, garnering millions of views and likes. That kind of exposure turned every one of Shattered Souls’ remaining shows into sold-out events. Their managers even had to add repeat shows in certain states due to the overwhelming demand, raking in even more cash.

You adjusted your AirPods as Sevika’s voice came through, teasing you about having to get up so early. “Oh, like it’s my fault you booked the first flight out,” you shot back, exasperated but grinning nonetheless. She had insisted on an early flight to see you as soon as possible, leaving the others to return on their usual schedule.

You glanced down at yourself as you hit the road, slightly embarrassed by your appearance. A ramen-stained shirt, baggy sweatpants, and mismatched Crocs—whatever you’d found in the rush out the door. “I swear, I look like I just rolled out of bed,” you muttered, though Sevika didn’t seem to care.

As you drove, she kept the conversation light, her laughter filling the silence in between. “Did you have to book such an early flight, ba—OH YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE, WHO TOLD YOU TO GO?!” you yelled, slamming on the brakes as a car cut you off.

The sound of Sevika laughing uproariously came through your AirPods, and you could practically hear the smirk on her face. “You’re really not a morning person, are you?” she teased.

You grumbled under your breath, trying to focus on the road as you neared the airport. “Ugh… I’m parking now. Come out—I’m in a red Camaro,” you said, glancing for an empty spot.

“I think I know what your car looks like,” Sevika replied dryly. “You’ve sent me about a hundred photos of it since you bought it.”

“Well, excuse me for being proud of my baby,” you retorted, cutting the engine. You tapped your fingers on the steering wheel as you waited, watching the revolving doors of the terminal. The anticipation of seeing her again after so long was starting to make your heart race.

A few minutes later, you spotted her walking toward the car, looking impossibly good even after an early morning flight. “Finally,” you sighed as she opened the passenger door and slid in.

“Took you long enough,” Sevika teased, leaning over to plant a kiss on your temple.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, a soft smile creeping onto your face despite yourself. Seeing her again made the whole chaotic morning worth it.

The morning sunlight streamed through the blinds as you stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around yourself. It was another busy day ahead, but the real challenge was getting Sevika out of bed. After another long night exploring new... territories in your sex life, she was completely passed out, her arm draped over her face as if shielding herself from any obligations.

Sevika had been bouncing between your house and hers for months now. Between her schedule and your own packed calendar, your time together felt fleeting. Since your influencer career had skyrocketed, luxury brands were constantly reaching out to have you model for their campaigns. You’d even graced a few runways, though so far, only in Los Angeles. Despite your hectic modeling gigs, you always found time to vlog, keeping your followers engaged and rooting for your success.

Once dressed, you glanced at Sevika sprawled on the bed. She was still deep in sleep, the faintest smile tugging at her lips as if she was dreaming about something—probably last night. Rolling your eyes, you walked over and leaned down, brushing your lips against hers until she stirred.

“Mmm,” she groaned, cracking one eye open to see you. A sleepy smile tugged at her face before she pulled you down for another kiss.

“Wake up,” you said against her lips, pulling back just enough to speak. “We’ve gotta be in New York by noon.”

She groaned again, flopping back dramatically as you straightened up and grabbed the suitcases you both had packed the night before. Dragging them to the bedroom door, you glanced over your shoulder. “Come on, Sev. I’m not breaking a nail carrying these downstairs.”

That seemed to do the trick. With a grumble and a stretch, Sevika swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. “You’re lucky I love you,” she muttered as she tugged on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, her hair still a little messy but effortlessly cool.

“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, watching as she hefted the suitcases with ease and carried them to the car. You followed her downstairs, doing a final mental checklist to make sure nothing was forgotten. Tomorrow was Easter, which meant a big family reunion, and you needed to be in New York by the afternoon to help with food prep, decorations, and setting up games for the kids.

Once the suitcases were securely packed in the trunk, you walked around the car to the driver’s side. “We have everything, right?” you asked, pausing before opening the door.

“Everything,” Sevika confirmed, already buckled in and leaning back in her seat.

You nodded, climbing in and starting the car. The drive to the airport wasn’t long, but the anticipation of seeing your family—and the chaos that always came with reunions—had you both a little on edge.

The private jet you’d rented was waiting for you on the tarmac, sleek and ready to whisk you both away to New York. It was a luxury you didn’t take for granted, and as you settled into the plush seats, you glanced over at Sevika. She was already dozing off again, her head resting against the window.

“Lazy,” you muttered under your breath, smiling softly. With everything you had going on, moments like these—just the two of you—were what you treasured the most.

The crisp New York air greeted you as you stepped out of the car with Sevika, luggage in tow. Your parents’ house came into view, its familiar warmth already making you smile. The front door opened before you even had a chance to knock, and your parents stood there beaming.

“Oh, welcome, Sevika!” your mother exclaimed, stepping forward to hug her tightly. Your mother wasn’t the handshake type, and neither was your father, who followed with an equally warm hug. Sevika, though a little caught off guard by their enthusiasm, accepted their hugs with a shy smile, murmuring her thanks.

“Come on in,” your dad said, motioning toward the door. “I cleaned (Y/N)’s room for you two… Well, I dusted. She’s always been good about keeping her room clean,” he added with a chuckle.

“Thanks, Dad,” you said, shooting him a playful grin. You turned to Sevika and gestured toward the stairs. “Sevika, you can go ahead and take the luggage up to my room. I’m sure I already need to help with the food.”

“Sure,” Sevika said, hefting the bags effortlessly. She paused for a moment. “You sure I can’t help out either?”

“You’ll have plenty to do, trust me,” you teased, patting her arm before heading toward the kitchen with your mom.

As the evening progressed, Sevika became an unofficial extra set of hands for your family. Anytime someone needed a jar opened, a can pried, or something retrieved from the highest shelf, Sevika was called upon.

“Sevika, can you open this?” your mom asked, holding out a stubborn jar of pickles.

“Sevika, can you grab that pan up there? No, no, the one way in the back,” your dad chimed in, pointing toward the top shelf.

Sevika handled each request with ease, and despite her usually intimidating demeanor, she blended in with your family as if she’d been there all along.

By the time everything was prepped and ready for the reunion, you found Sevika sitting at the kitchen counter, a slightly amused look on her face. “I told you you’d have plenty to do,” you said with a grin, handing her a glass of water.

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied, smirking. “I didn’t think I’d be the designated muscle for the night, though.”

Your parents laughed from across the room. “You’re a lifesaver, Sevika,” your mom said. “We might have to borrow you for every holiday!”

“Don’t get used to it,” Sevika joked, but there was a softness in her tone, like she didn’t really mind.

You smiled, watching her interact so naturally with your family. It made you feel even more certain that she belonged here, with you, no matter how chaotic things got.

The clock had just struck midnight, and the kitchen was still bustling with activity. The counters were covered with bowls, spatulas, and a fine dusting of flour from the cakes you and your mom had been making earlier. The sweet aroma of vanilla and chocolate wafted through the air as the cakes baked in the oven, their golden tops rising slowly.

You let out a long yawn, leaning against the counter as your eyelids grew heavier. “I think I’m gonna take a nap for a few hours,” you said, your voice tinged with exhaustion.

Your dad, sitting on the couch in the living room, was deeply engrossed in an episode of Criminal Minds. Sevika was right beside him, equally locked in, her arms crossed as she stared at the screen with intense focus. Neither of them even glanced away as they replied in perfect unison, “Okay.”

Your mom, still wiping down the counters, looked over at you with a soft smile. “Of course, hun. Get plenty of sleep. I’ll finish up here.”

You gave her a small nod, your movements slow and heavy as the sleepiness really started to set in. “Good night,” you said, your voice gentle as you turned toward the living room.

“Good night,” your dad mumbled distractedly, his eyes glued to the TV.

“Night,” Sevika added, sparing you a quick glance and a small smirk before her attention returned to the unfolding crime scene on the screen.

With that, you headed upstairs, the sound of the TV faintly trailing behind you. As you climbed into your old bed, you smiled faintly at the thought of Sevika and your dad bonding over their shared love of Criminal Minds. It wasn’t long before the warmth of your blanket and the faint hum of the oven downstairs lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

When you woke up, the faint sounds of movement from the kitchen drew you out of bed. After showering and getting dressed, you headed downstairs, expecting to find your mom working on the last-minute preparations. Instead, you were met with a sight that stopped you in your tracks.

Sevika was already a thousand steps ahead of you. She stood at the counter wearing a pink apron with the word “Mommy” embroidered on it, her broad frame completely at odds with the delicate garment. Your mom was by her side, showing her how to frost the cakes that had been cooling overnight.

You leaned against the doorway, taking in the scene. Sevika’s muscles flexed every time she squeezed the piping bag, her large hands surprisingly gentle as she guided the frosting in smooth, even swirls across the cake’s surface. Her face was the perfect picture of concentration, her tongue sticking out just slightly as she focused on getting the perfect amount of frosting out. It was almost unfair how good she looked—domestic and strong all at once.

You couldn’t help yourself. You took out your phone and snapped a quick picture without her noticing. It was too cute not to capture. Her brows furrowed, her tongue still poking out as she worked, completely unaware of you standing there. The sight of her in that ridiculous pink apron, paired with her muscular build, was the perfect contradiction—and you were adding this to your “Sevi-bear” photo album immediately.

You grinned to yourself as you looked at the photo, already imagining teasing her about it later. But for now, you stayed quiet, content to watch her try something so completely out of her element—and excel at it, as she always did.

The family car was packed carefully, each dish delicately arranged in the trunk to avoid any spills. You and Sevika sat in the backseat with the cakes balanced on your laps, your mom driving while your dad gave directions. Sevika kept her hand steady on one of the cakes to ensure it wouldn’t slide, her other hand casually resting on your knee.

When you arrived at the reunion venue, the energy was palpable. Family members swarmed to greet you, all warm smiles and hugs. For a brief moment, some assumed Sevika was just a friend accompanying you. That assumption didn’t last long as the day unfolded.

Your little cousins were particularly fascinated by Sevika’s metal arm. A cluster of them crowded around her, asking endless questions and eagerly poking at the cool surface. She was patient with them, answering their curious questions and even flexing the arm for their amusement. “Does it hurt?” one of them asked, wide-eyed. “Not anymore,” Sevika replied, ruffling the kid’s hair with her free hand.

As more family members chatted with you, the usual questions about your career came up. You fielded inquiries about your success as an influencer, politely sidestepping the occasional fake family member who tried to slip in a request for money or a shoutout. Sevika noticed, giving you a small smirk when one particularly pushy cousin asked for free promo. You handled it gracefully, your hand squeezing Sevika’s reassuringly.

After lunch, it became clear to most of the family that Sevika wasn’t just your friend. It started with her casually wiping frosting off your cheek, the gesture intimate and tender. Some family members caught on quickly and congratulated you on finding someone who seemed to genuinely adore you. Others weren’t as supportive—chiefly your grandpa.

You hadn’t prepared Sevika for your grandfather’s homophobic tendencies, so when he began loudly hurling slurs, it caught her completely off guard. The room fell silent as Sevika’s face darkened with anger. You quickly grabbed her arm and led her outside before she could say or do something she might regret.

“I’m sorry, Sevi,” you said once you were outside, your voice trembling. “I should’ve told you about him. I didn’t think—”

“It’s not your fault,” Sevika interrupted, her jaw tight but her voice steady. “I’ll take his words as a challenge. He’ll come around.”

Her words hung in the air, and before you could fully grasp what she meant, the evening’s adult games kicked off—and Sevika turned them into a battleground. She and your grandpa faced off in every event: drinking musical chairs, beer pong, and even an impromptu dance battle when both were too drunk to care about anything else. You stood on the sidelines, utterly baffled as your girlfriend and grandfather line-danced together like lifelong friends, the rest of the family cheering them on.

By the end of the night, your grandpa was slumped in a chair next to Sevika, both of them too drunk to stand but deep in conversation about fishing, hunting, and other pastimes you never knew Sevika had indulged in before her rockstar days. You listened quietly as they spoke, the unexpected camaraderie between them leaving you stunned.

At one point, their conversation shifted, and both pairs of eyes landed on you.

“She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she?” Sevika said, her voice filled with affection.

“She got the looks from her grandmother,” your grandpa replied, his words slurred but sincere. “May she rest in peace.”

“I’m gonna marry her,” Sevika announced casually, taking a sip from her beer.

Your heart stopped. “Marry my wife?” your grandfather slurred, looking utterly confused.

“No, you dumbass,” Sevika shot back with a drunken grin. “Marry your granddaughter. I’ve already got her parents’ approval, and I’ve got the ring. I just need yours, old man.”

Your eyes widened as the words sank in. Sevika was planning to propose to you? And you were finding out like this?

Your grandfather scratched his chin, pretending to mull it over. Finally, he shrugged. “Sure… why not.”

Sevika grinned triumphantly, raising her beer in a mock toast. “Good. Now you can’t take it back.”

You stood there in shock, your heart racing, as Sevika shot you a sly look. “Surprise,” she muttered, clearly enjoying your reaction.

Sevika knelt before you, the vibrant sounds of All of Me played softly in the background, the violinist swaying to each note with practiced grace. Snow glistened around the edges of the path, blending with the blooming flowers of early spring in Central Park. The people you loved most—your parents, your grandpa, your cousins, and even Sevika’s closest friends from the band, Vi, Jinx, and Caitlyn—stood nearby, beaming with anticipation.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your hand flew to your mouth as tears welled in your eyes. Sevika, the tough, confident rockstar you’d fallen in love with, now looked at you with such softness it was almost overwhelming. Her fingers, calloused from years of playing guitar, trembled slightly as she held the velvet box in her hands.

“Before you say anything,” she began, her voice steady but laced with emotion, “let me talk.” She took a deep breath, her stormy gray eyes locking onto yours, and you saw the vulnerability she rarely let anyone else see.

“I know we’ve only been together for a few months,” she started, a small, self-deprecating chuckle escaping her lips. “But in those months, you’ve turned my life upside down in the best way. Touring was always the dream for me—traveling from state to state, performing for thousands of people, living that wild rockstar life. But I didn’t realize how empty it all felt until I met you.”

Your tears began to spill over as she continued, her voice growing softer.

“Every stop on tour, you made it feel like home. Whether it was late-night takeout in crappy motels or those quiet moments backstage before a show, you reminded me that life isn’t just about the music or the fame—it’s about who you share it with.”

“This place,” Sevika said, glancing around at the snowy park and the familiar gates overlooking the water, “I knew it was special to you. Your mom told me this is where your dad proposed to her. And I wanted this moment to be just as meaningful for us.”

She took a steadying breath, her voice firm as she said, “I know what I want. And what I want is you—your laughter, your humor, the way you stayed up late at night with me on FaceTime, and the way you saw past my stubbornness and taught me how to love. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. So… will you marry me?”

The world seemed to stand still as you nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

The crowd erupted into cheers as Sevika slipped the ring onto your finger, her hands surprisingly gentle despite their strength. She stood, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into a kiss that made your heart race.

“You’re mine now,” she murmured softly against your lips, her smirk returning as the confidence you loved so much settled back into place.

“Always,” you replied, smiling as your arms wrapped tightly around her neck.

As your family and friends crowded around to congratulate you, the violinist transitioned into a celebratory tune, and Sevika looked at you like you were her entire world. And in that moment, with the love of your life holding you close, you knew that this was only the beginning of your next adventure together.

— ran out of divider space :(

SURPRISE SHAWTY EXTRAS !

Three years had passed since you and Sevika tied the knot, and not a day went by where the memories of that perfect wedding didn’t make you smile. Everything about it had been uniquely you and Sevika—the all-black theme, the gothic elegance, and the sheer joy radiating from your friends and family as they celebrated your love. Famous faces mingled with relatives, everyone dressed to impress, and the night was filled with laughter, Jayce’s weird ass speech, dancing, and, of course, music. Sevika even performed a surprise set, which had everyone raving for weeks afterward.

After the honeymoon, you and Sevika bought into two homes in LA and New York, though the sunny LA house became you guys primary sanctuary. You continued thriving in your career as a model and influencer, while Sevika poured her heart and soul into Shattered Souls, the band only growing bigger with each passing year. Every album release brought in millions, and their relentless touring schedule kept Sevika busy, but it was clear she always prioritized you.

Life had been eventful not just for you but for your inner circle too. Not long after your wedding, Vi and Caitlyn also said their vows, sealing their love in a ceremony that was just as vibrant and wild as their personalities. Things took an unexpected yet joyous turn when Caitlyn announced she was pregnant. She and Vi had chosen a donor together, and though Cait took a temporary break from the band to focus on the pregnancy, she urged Vi to stay with Shattered Souls until the baby arrived.

When Caitlyn’s pregnancy began progressing, you decided to take a break from your own work to help out. Between the late-night cravings and Cait’s stubborn insistence on decorating the nursery herself, there was plenty to keep you occupied. Sevika often teased you about being "Mommy’s helper," but her eyes always sparkled with pride when she saw how much you loved caring for Cait.

Around this time, you started having more serious conversations with Sevika about starting a family of your own. It wasn’t exactly a new topic—Sevika had been talking about wanting kids ever since the engagement, casually dreaming about what your future family might look like. But now, it felt real. Sevika was patient and understanding, knowing you wanted everything to be just right.

For months, you searched for the perfect donor, determined to find someone who bore a strong resemblance to Sevika. It wasn’t just about looks; it was about creating a child that truly felt like a piece of both of you. You pored over profiles, cross-checked every detail, and refused to settle for anything less than perfection.

Sevika, as always, supported your every decision. Whenever she caught you deep in thought, scrolling through potential donors, she’d come up behind you, rest her chin on your shoulder, and say, “We’ll find them. Our kid’s gonna be amazing, just like you.” Her unwavering confidence made you believe it too.

The two of you spent countless nights dreaming about the future. Sevika talked about teaching your kid to play guitar, how they’d grow up surrounded by music and love. She joked about how they’d have to deal with two moms who would fiercely embarrass them at every school recital or sports game. You laughed, imagining the chaos, but deep down, the idea of starting a family with Sevika made your heart ache in the best way.

After weeks of searching, you finally found him—the perfect donor. He had Sevika’s striking features: her sharp nose, deep skin tone, tall and athletic build, and a clean bill of health that only made the decision easier. Everything about him mirrored Sevika in the best way, and without hesitation, you jumped at the opportunity. The next step was IVF, a process you were both equally nervous and excited about. Now came the hardest part—waiting.

To pass the time, you threw yourself into helping Caitlyn with her nursery. From painting the walls in a soft pastel blue to assembling cribs and organizing baby clothes, you and Cait poured all your energy into making the space perfect. Caitlyn often joked that you were acting more like a second mom than a helper, but you didn’t mind—it kept your hands busy and your mind occupied. By the time the few weeks of waiting were up, the nursery was complete, right down to the tiniest detail.

Then the day came. You sat on the toilet in your bathroom, staring at the Clearblue pregnancy test in your hand, willing yourself to stay calm. Sevika stood a few feet away, pacing back and forth like a caged lion. She was usually the picture of composure, but the anticipation had her just as wound up as you were. “How long does this thing take?” she muttered, running a hand through her short hair for the third time.

“It’ll beep when it’s ready,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seconds felt like hours, but then—beep.

Your heart raced as you looked down at the little screen. There it was, clear as day: Pregnant.

“Oh my god…” you gasped, the realization washing over you like a wave. Then, louder, “OH MY GOD, I’M PREGNANT!”

You jumped to your feet, holding the test up for Sevika to see. Her eyes widened as she stepped closer, taking it from your hands to double-check. When the word registered, a wide grin broke across her face.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. “We’re gonna have a baby…”

The two of you hugged tightly, your emotions spilling over in laughter and tears. Sevika’s strong arms held you close as she kissed your temple. “We’re gonna be awesome parents,” you said, your voice shaking with happiness.

“Damn right we are,” Sevika replied, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “You’re gonna be an amazing mom. And I’ll—well, I’ll try not to mess the kid up too much.”

You laughed, wiping at your tears. “You? Mess them up? Sev, you’re going to be their hero.”

She smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “And you’re already mine.”

That moment felt like the start of something magical, the first step into a whole new chapter of your lives. Together, you were ready to take it on, one step at a time.

taglist : @moodient @whatlefoop @nonexistentsourcherry @swordfemm4 @m00npjm @sevikasleftarm @fayecreates @artfairyyyyy @mulan-but-gay @inlovewithsevikaandambessa @sapphiellar @fudosl @nanajustnana-a

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a cutie little barzal family moment because @youunravelme came to nyc and shared the headcanon with me 🥰

getting into the city looks a lot different with two kids, but you and mat love to do it as much as possible to expose talia and max to culture and make them comfortable with the city atmosphere

this trip in, a few weekends before christmas, is talia’s idea. she’s been begging to see the jellycat cafe at fao schwartz and finally mat has a saturday off that will work. so you bundle the kids up into the car and toss the stroller in last minute, packing snacks and toys in case the traffic is bad

the entire drive talia chatters about her jellycats, an obsession since nadia and mike had sent her the hockey puck one from canada. liana helps the collection by sending ones from london and even taking one on a “day in her life” and sending you the video to show talia.

luckily, you make it into the city pretty quickly, parking in an icon lot on 56th street and unloading. you strap max into the carrier on your chest, his sweet chubby cheeks squished against your chest and his eyes fluttering shut from the warmth and the car ride. if he naps, he naps. you’re not overly pressed about it

talia skips along at mat’s side, swinging his hand and chattering about her list for santa. mat’s face is in a broad smile, eyes twinkling as she chatters. you follow along behind them, pushing the stroller because you know talia’s going to get tired eventually and she’ll want to sit down. for now, the seat belongs to talia’s american girl doll and max’s diaper bag.

the weather is gorgeous, sunny and a little cold, but perfect for walking up 5th avenue and seeing the decorated windows. you snap a million pictures in front of the tree, swapping phones with another mother so she can take a picture of the four of you and you can take a picture of her family

“mommy, let’s do a selfie,” talia tugs at your sleeve and you and mat squat down to get your faces into frame. mat presses a sloppy kiss to talia’s cheek for one of the pictures and makes her squeal with a laugh

by the time you get to fao schwartz, mat starts to get concerned, brows furrowing when he sees the crowd control ropes and long lines. “this isn’t for the toy store, right?” he asks you in a low murmur.

“sorry, babe,” you pat his arm. “this is all for the cafe”

“oh god,” he groans, but rearranges his face into a smile when talia squeals with excitement and starts bouncing in place. “okay,” he mutters, “all for t, it’s all for t”

you get in line, max waking up and baby talking at you and talia at your side playing with her doll. after about fifteen minutes on line, your shoulders start to scream at you and you need to swap with mat so he can take max and the carrier on his chest. max is thrilled to be with his dada, slapping excited hands on mat’s cheeks and chin.

another half an hour on the line and you’re really regretting being the kinds of parents that will do anything for their kids. talia is fading and getting cranky, but you know if she misses the cafe, she’ll be furious, so you strap her into the stroller and tell mat you’re going for snacks and drinks.

talia ends up napping for a little bit while you find the nearest starbucks and get mat a black coffee, yourself a peppermint mocha, and talia a hot chocolate. she’s perked up when she gets her drink and cake pop and an hour and a half later, when you finally get into the cafe, she’s perked back up

it’s silly and if you didn’t have talia, you certainly wouldn’t have paid for it, but she loves the experience. being held on mat’s hip so she can see the worker put her stuffed pancake into the pan and then the special box, she beams hugely and makes sure max is looking too, telling him, “look, maxsy, it’s a pancake! like mommy makes, you like pancakes. and that’s your bagel - see?”

the bagel was your pick since it’s an exclusive to the nyc store. max can’t pick on his own so that’s your mother’s prerogative.

max giggles and taps at the glass, as excited as the six month old gets about anything.

on the way back to the car, talia keeps looking into the bag and sighing happily. “mommy, daddy, this is the bestest day ever!”

mat grins at you and you grin back, happy to have made another memory for her. and now you’re more excited than ever to bring her to the american girl cafe 🥰

[whentherewerebicycles]

my baby is eight months old and every month of his wonderful little life has been better and more joyful than the last (which is saying something, because every month has been so good). he is still very Baby but he is also suddenly blossoming into a little kid before my eyes and it’s so much to handle 😭 he has always been an expressive talker but these days he has the most delightfully animated little conversations with himself, full of complex baby feelings like surprise and delight and shock and glee and of course spluttering indignation (you would not BELIEVE the wrongs done to angelic little babies these days! they have to take naps in their CRIBS!!). he laughs and gasps and hoots and fake coughs, and then he looks at you with a sly little expression to see if you think he’s funny. he is silliest with me by far (he still gets a bit shy and reserved around new people) but he also absolutely adores Liz & A and his nanny and breaks into the most bashful gummy little grin as soon as they walk into a room. he is still bald as an egg but NOT FOR LONG, as he wakes up every morning with more dark fuzz on his big round noggin. this month he learned to sit up and now he wants to be sitting up playing with his toys all the time (he is over the moon to have discovered a mother-approved alternative to accursed tummy time). he has developed strong preferences for certain toys along with the motor skills to select the objects he wants, and he is quite discerning—last week’s toys are so last week and he gets an impatient expression on his face if you try to entice him with formerly beloved objects that are just like sooooo over, mom, pleaseee don’t embarrass him in front of his friends (the dogs). speaking of the dogs it is his most cherished desire to pat them but they give him a wide berth except for the occasional facewash sneak attack. he spends a lot of time bouncing up and down in his seat reaching longingly for them while they ignore him completely. he has the chonkiest most solid little baby feet you have ever seen in your life and little fat bow legs that curve down to his chonky little feet and perfect fat little baby hands that he loves to slam repeatedly against his tray or his mat or your face. he has one little razor-sharp sliver of a front bottom tooth and I genuinely CANNOT handle it, it is just too much, he gives you his square little gummy smile and then you see the TOOTH and you’re like that’s it, I’m dead, this killed me. he had perfectly shaped little orecchiette ears when he was born and I am delighted to report that they remain absolutely perfect and when you nibble on them he acts like you’re tickling him and does his little turtle-in-a-shell teeheehee reaction. I would say that his basic temperament is the same but perhaps tends more towards a happiness default than the reserved watchfulness of previous months. he is still quite watchful—in all the daycare videos I get he is sitting with the big kids observing them play with a totally focused expression—but he is also delightfully silly and laughs a lot, especially at home. if he’s not hungry and has napped reasonably well, he is easygoing, adaptable, and game for pretty much whatever. he is such a good sleeper I can’t tell anyone in my offline life about it except liz whose baby is also a unicorn sleeper… but honestly I think that’s probably the root of his default good mood (if I slept 12 hours a night I’d also be the best possible version of myself). let’s see what else… idk this month has just been so fun. he’s just a little person now and I genuinely enjoy hanging out with him. I just think he rocks.

his favorite toy in this exact moment: his stacking cups, especially when you put a plastic ball inside of them for him to tip out onto the floor. his most beloved object: his squishmallow, of course, which sends him into transports of delight when he sees it. his favorite food: with the exception of arugula this child has never met a food he didn’t like. he LIVES to EAT. words his daycare teacher most frequently uses to describe him: “Owen is SOOOO hungry!!!” other favorite activities this month: kicking in the bath or in the pool, watching trees go by on car rides, slamming his hands as hard as he can against his high chair tray, watching the dogs wrestle, being swung slowly back and forth like the pendulum in a giant clock, gazing at his beautiful reflection in the mirror, kissing his beautiful reflection in the mirror, having mom make his squish swoop down from high above to CHOMP him, chewing on the edges of plastic bins, and scritch-scratching the rock wall outside of our house. he’s perfect. my beloved little kiddo.

[th3cadav3r]

Hello! I think a nice sfw fluff scenario for the Tulpar crew would be headcanons of how each character would react when the reader hesitantly tells them they don’t like sex or are asexual. Reader can be gn. Thank you, I really like your headcanon writings!

SFW Mouthwashing Headcanons—Asexual Reader

content: fluff, kissing, cuddling, mentions of sex, very very very slight acephobia from Jimmy(but with a happy ending)

author’s note: Keep in mind that I am not asexual therefore I cannot understand or fully grasp the asexual experience. I just tried my best based on what I’ve seen and heard online. Hope you enjoy!

Daisuke

You and him had been dating for about three weeks

You always held hands and made out a lot, but nothing more than that

His libido is pretty high because of his age, so naturally he wanted more

You were making out on the couch when suddenly you felt his hands start to wander

It was fine at first until his hand started reaching a little too low for comfort

“Wait—”you blurt out

He stops immediately, retracting his hand

“Sorry, did I do something wrong?” His voice is full of genuine concern

“No, it’s not your fault. I just uh…don’t want that”

He was a little confused. “We can move to my bed if you want” He suggests, thinking that you just wanted more privacy than the living room provided

“No, I…I mean I don’t want to have sex. It’s not you, it’s me. I just don’t like it”

He didn’t expect that but he understood. He smiled reassuringly

“That’s alright. I get it”

You breathed a sigh of relief and your body relaxed. You felt like you truly didn’t deserve such a sweet boyfriend

“Here—we can just cuddle instead” He offers with his arms open. You gladly accept

You spent the rest of the afternoon napping together and playing video games when you woke up

This was definitely different for him compared to his previous relationships, but he didn’t care. He loves you for you

Anya

You started dating towards the end of the trip

She’s more of a words of affection girl than a physical touch girl, which is perfect for you

At one point when things started to get a bit steamy, you finally told her

“Before this gets too far…you should know something about me”

You tell her how you feel no desire for sex but that you still love her the same. Of course she’s understanding once you explain it to her

“I appreciate that you told me”

You both have a long discussion about what is and isn’t okay in regards to your and her comfort. And you both come out of the conversation with a much better and deeper understanding of each other

Now whenever you and her get touchy, she knows exactly what to do to make you feel good without crossing the line

Curly

There was no doubt about it: You were the captain’s favourite

You spent a lot of time alone with him in the cockpit just chatting about the most random things

He definitely grew a liking to you and you to him. One day he asked you what exactly he was to you

You confessed your feelings to him and he does the same. While the moment feels amazing, you can’t help but feel worried about his reaction to your sexuality

“Hey, I should let you know–” You decide to just tell him now. “–I don’t really want this to be a sexual thing, okay?”

He’s a bit taken aback, you can clearly see that in his face. But he is by no means offended or upset

“No worries, then,” he reassures. “Thanks for telling me”

For the next few days, he was very overly cautious. He asked if you were comfortable before he gave you any kind of physical affection. It was a bit exhausting at first, but you appreciated that he cared so much

Swansea

Let’s be real: This man is old

His sex drive is almost all long gone

And he let you know this when you told him about your lack of sexual desire

“Yeah, so what?” he says gruffly and bluntly. “I’m fifty-fuckin’-six years old, sweetheart. Just thinking about sex makes my back hurt”

You were totally expecting that response. It still made you smile from ear to ear though

He wasn’t really a lovey-dovey type of guy when the others were around, but when you two were alone in his bedroom he was a lot more affectionate. Cuddles, kisses, caresses…everything he did was so gentle and comfortable

Jimmy

You’re definitely a lot closer to him than anyone else on board, even Curly

Neither of you really knew where you stood in terms of a relationship, but your “hangouts” included a lot of making out and touching

This was fine initially, but at a certain point it became too much for you

“Hold on—”You grab his wandering hand and move it off of your body

“What?” He was genuinely surprised that you stopped him

“This is going a bit too far for me”Your body tenses up, anticipating a very awkward and uncomfortable conversation

“What do you mean?” He sounded a little hurt and a bit annoyed

“I don’t…have a drive like that. I don’t want to do sexual stuff”You laid it all out for him

He was quiet for a bit. You couldn’t exactly read his face so you were starting to get a little nervous

“It’s not because of me, right?”

“No, of course not,” you reassure. “That’s just how I am”

He sighs. Whether it was out of relief or frustration you couldn’t tell

“Alright”

The atmosphere between you and him was a little awkward for the next few days. You couldn’t help but worry

“Sorry if I was being distant,” he finally told you one afternoon. “Just thinking things through”

“That’s alright” You were lying; you were a little upset that he basically ghosted you after you were so vulnerable with him, but you were willing to just let it go, at least for now

“I know you have your…thing. But I still like you”

Well that was a surprise. But a good one. Definitely a good one. You told him that you liked him back

He was a bit disappointed that he couldn’t do everything he hoped to do with you, but he still liked you a lot. Besides, he could always just “take care” of himself in private

[bbywhitefox123]

description: the tape Rafe and Mia filmed backfires, but Mia still has hope that Mason might want to sleep with her. So Rafe ends up bringing Mia to a party that Mason is supposed to attend.

warnings: semi-public sex, car sex, p in v

Mia leaked the video the second she got home, and only two hours later it went viral. Not for the right reasons, though. It was hard for a blowjob tape to go viral for the right reasons, anyway. However, Mia had hoped that at least Mason would now think of her as more than a pillow princess. She didn't know what Mason thought, however, she was very aware of everyone's thoughts in Outer Banks.

They thought that Mia’s daddy wasn't giving her enough money, so she began to sell her holes.

“What were you thinking?” Sarah exclaimed the moment she arrived at Mia’s house.

Mia’s eyes traveled from her bathroom door to Sarah’s concerned face. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours since the video was uploaded, and Sarah was already panicking.

“Thinking…” Mia repeated, trying to remember what thoughts might have crossed her mind while she had Rafe’s fat cock in her throat. Frankly, it was quite hard to think while being deep-throated. “I thought that it might be thrilling, no?”

Sarah’s eyes widened at the calmness of her best friend's voice. “No!” she shouted, throwing her hands in the air in frustration.

“Oh,” Mia said, looking down at her lap. She was sitting on her bed in her tinnie-tiny pj shorts.

Sarah’s brows furrowed at her friend’s child-like actions - except for the fact that children didn't film adult videos and leak them.

But before she could say anything else, her phone buzzed. Mia couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over her. Sarah had been relentless with her lectures on keeping private moments… well, private. And after that video leak, Mia had heard enough. No one knew Rafe was the one behind the camera, and she planned to keep it that way.

“I have to go, M’s. Topper got in a fight,” Sarah sighed, grabbing her things. “But don’t think we’re done here.”

Mia plastered on a polite smile, nodding as Sarah left, the sound of the door clicking shut signaling her true relief. The moment Sarah was gone, Mia let herself fall back onto her bed, stretching out with a deep breath. “Finally,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

A creak from her bathroom door pulled her attention, and she looked up, watching as Rafe strolled out with that smirk of his, waving his phone lazily in the air.

She raised a brow, eyeing him with a half-smile. “What’s that? You filming yourself jerking off to my laundry?” she teased, crossing her arms as she settled into the mattress.

Rafe scoffed, tossing his phone onto the bed beside her. “Got my annoying sister off your ass. You’re welcome.”

Mia rolled onto her stomach, glancing at the texts he’d sent to Topper. She realized there was no actual fight — just Rafe, manipulating the situation to his advantage. She felt his gaze lingering, and a sly grin crept onto her face as she caught him in the act. The position she was in gave Rafe the perfect view of her heart-shaped ass.

“Oh, enjoying the view, are we?” she teased, arching her back just slightly, making it clear she knew exactly what he was looking at. Rafe felt his dick twitch at the sight of her ass peeking out of the short cotton material.

Rafe tilted his head, not even bothering to hide his stare. “Peach suits you,” he murmured, his voice low, teasing yet undeniably admiring.

Mia smirked, meeting his gaze with a defiant glint in her eyes. “Guess you can look,” she said, barely a whisper, “but don’t think you’ll get away with anything else.”

Rafe snorted, walking around the bed and letting his hand travel from her tight to the center of her lean back. He did exactly what she told him he couldn't. And in one swift motion, he undid her bra through the thin material of her tank top.

Mia’s mouth went dry as she looked up at Rafe, who was smirking devilishly down at her. His fingers moved to her jaw, caressing, and then he tugged on her lower lip.

“We’re friends, remember?” Mia found a little power in her voice and decided to use it.

Rafe smirked, pushing his thumb inside her wet, warm mouth, “The best of.”

Mia leaned in close, brushing her fingers along Rafe’s hand, her gaze steady and unwavering. Her lips quirked up in a teasing smile as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and unguarded. Rafe felt a rush of heat, his pulse picking up as he tried to keep his cool. She didn’t say a word, but the way she lingered, so close he could feel her warmth, said enough.

“You know,” she murmured softly, taking his finger out of her warm mouth and watching the saliva string between them. Her voice was laced with playful defiance, “I could keep you here all night if I wanted.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened as he fought the urge to give in, knowing he had somewhere to be. If only it wasn't for the damn party where he would get his next dose. But the thought of leaving was getting harder with each passing second. And so was his dick.

“Don’t tempt me,” he replied, his voice low, catching the glint of mischief in her eyes as she slowly pulled away, leaving him with only a taste of the tension hanging between them.

Mia wiped her mouth as she rolled back to the middle of the bed. “Where are you going, anyway?” she asked, sitting up.

It was a little after eleven p.m., and she was ready for some Netflix before she could fall asleep. Mia took her bra out and threw it on the edge of the bed before she pulled her laptop closer.

“Nate’s party,” Rafe answered quickly as if he wanted to get over with it.

Opposite to Rafe’s disdain, Mia’s eyes sparkled with excitement at his words. She looked over her shoulder. “Nate like Nate Richards? Mason’s friend? Is that the Nate you’re talking about?” Mia asked question after question, her chest rising with excitement while Rafe furrowed his brows at her.

“I guess—”

“Cool. I’m coming too,” Mia declared, getting up from her bed and quickly walking to her closet without waiting for Rafe to finish his sentence.

Rafe watched her with parted lips, his eyes glued to her jiggling ass. He would’ve much fathered have Mia cumming in her bedroom, instead of her coming to this party.

“Yeah, I’m not taking you,” Rafe said nonchalantly.

Mia stopped herself before she could take out a dress from her closet and turned on her heels to look at him. She pouted her glossy lips and gave him the biggest eyes she could. “Please, Rafey,” she begged.

Rafe gulped, the image of her sucking him on her knees playing in the back of her head. Fuck, he was getting hard all over again.

“I’ll do as you say. I just want to talk with Mason, nothing more— I’ll listen to you, and we’ll leave whenever you want… I’ll be good, I promise, Rafey,” Mia uttered on and on, but not a single word reached Rafe. He was too focused on watching her pretty nipples and the outline of her pussy that the shorts gave.

When Mia noticed where Rafe’s eyes were, she quickly took her tank top off her body without a second thought. Rafe watched with a watered mouth as her perky tits spilled out before he looked up at her face. The power she had on him was unbelievable.

“—You can even pick my outfit and all,” Mia finished her rant but by the look in Rafe’s eyes she knew he heard only the last bits of her words.

“Huh?” He furrowed his brows, fighting the need to look back at her bouncy tits.

Mia chuckled at him, biting her lip as she began to walk closer to him. Rafe’s hungry eyes were glued to her tits that bounced with each of her steps. He couldn't help but imagine how soft they would be in his palms and how she’d moan when he sucked on them. She gave him good material for his late-night jerking sessions.

Mia wrapped her hand around his arm, feeling his hard muscles. She had seen his body more times than any girl had, and she knew how strong he was. And that turned her on more than she cared to admit.

“C’mon,” she smiled at him, pulling him closer to her closet.

Rafe stood in front of the hung clothes and looked at her all confused. The Mia he knew hated when guys had opinions on her clothes and here she was, letting Rafe pick her outfit. He wasn't even sure she was serious until she stripped off her shorts. Rafe’s eyes widened as she took in the view. Mia, his best friend, stood in front of him with her tits out and her pink thong buried between her pussy lips.

“You’re wet,” Rafe pointed out before he could stop himself.

Mia looked down and chuckled. “I guess you’d have to pick a pair of panties, as well,” she said, folding her arms in front of her tits.

Rafe drew a sharp breath as he turned his attention back to her closet. He scratched the back of his head as he looked through her stuff. Outer Banks was one Hell of a hot place and Mia was known for having her ass out, so Rafe had to work with little less fabric than he had imagined.

“I like that dress,” Mia pointed out when Rafe pulled one of the many hangers. A short white dress was dangled down on the gold hanger.

Rafe smirked as he looked at it, “Didn’t I buy it?”

Mia nodded sweetly, the memory of his surprise gift causing her to bit her lip.

“Uhmm…” she hummed, folding her arms behind her as she stepped forward. “I love it when you buy me things.”

Rafe scoffed, trying to bite down his smirk. “Do you now?” he teased, his arm sneaking around her bare waist as he pulled her against his body.

Mia nodded, looking up at him. Her glossy lips twisted into a smirk, catching his gaze. She couldn’t stop herself from giggling. Mia had him wrapped around her pedicured finger. He was sooo whipped.

“So, Rafey. Why don’t you choose the dress Nate Richards would be taking off tonight?” she said, batting her long eyelashes at him.

Rafe snorted, biting back a remark that would’ve had her mood ruined. For a second, he thought whether he should tell her anyway - having her not go to that party was the best outcome. And he likes to gamble.

“How are you so fucking confident he’ll want you?” Rafe breathed out, furrowing his brows. He was so damn fascinated by her.

Mei cocked a brow. “You, boys are very simple. There’s nothing you wouldn't do for sex.”

Rafe tilted his head to the side. He did understand what she meant, but oh how much he loved to watch her lips move. Mei made her point and Rafe daydreamed about that glossy mouth of hers. The same mouth he had around his dick a few days ago. Even the thought of it made his dick hard.

“Just like you’re taking me to that party with the hopes of getting under me,” Mei gave another example, taking her hands off him.

Rafe leaned against the closet door. Biting his lip as Mei bent over to take the dress he had dropped. She had the best ass for doggy style or spanking. And Rafe was getting heated-up just thinking about it. It didn’t help that Mei used to date some of Rafe’s friends and he got to hear about the bedroom part from both sides.

“M’not a bottom,” Rafe muttured, his eyes glued to her tight body.

Mei only rolled her eyes at his statement before she put her dress on and turned around for Rafe to zip it. His cold hands melted against her hot skin as he dragged the zipper as slowly as he could. And when he was done, he placed a kiss on her bare shoulder. Mei laughed at the gesture before she walked away to pick some shoes.

“I’m not carrying you, Peach,” Rafe tasked the moment she picked up a pair of high heels.

Mei groaned, turning to look at him. “Okay, when has that happened— You know what, I take it back,”

Rafe smirked at her. “Exactly. You’ve got the stamina of a baby deer in those things, and I’m not breaking my back dragging you around again.”

Mei rolled her eyes, slipping her feet into the heels anyway. “First of all, I’ve never asked you to carry me. Second, you’re just mad I get more attention than you when we’re out.”

Rafe laughed, pushing off the door to close the gap between them. “You’re delusional. Nobody’s looking at you when I’m in the room.”

Mei gave him a playful glare, her hands going to her hips. “Oh, really? Last time I checked, you were the one begging me to zip this dress so I could distract your enemies.”

“Enemies? Nah, sweetheart,” Rafe said, tilting his head as he let his eyes sweep down her body, slow and deliberate. “They’re just guys who want what I’ve got.”

Mei’s cheeks flushed, but she kept her composure, shooting him a smirk. “What you’ve got? Hate to break it to you, but this—” she gestured to herself— “isn’t yours.”

Rafe stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Sure about that?” His voice was low, teasing, with just enough of an edge to send a shiver up her spine.

She held his gaze, refusing to back down even as her pulse quickened. “Positive.”

Rafe’s smirk widened, but instead of pressing further, he backed away, his hands raised in mock surrender. “If you say so, Peach.”

Mei huffed out a laugh, brushing past him to grab her bag. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he called after her.

She didn’t respond, but the faint smile tugging at her lips was all the answer Rafe needed.

The party was already in full swing when they arrived. The bass from the music thrummed through the walls, and the smell of booze and smoke hung heavy in the air. Mei walked in first, her heels clicking confidently against the floor, her dress hugging her body in all the right places. Rafe trailed behind her, his jaw tight as his eyes swept the room, already annoyed by the way guys were looking at her.

Mei’s target wasn’t hard to find. Mason stood near the kitchen, a beer in one hand, his other slung lazily around some guy’s shoulders as he laughed at something. Mei’s lips curved into a sly smile, and Rafe immediately picked up on the shift in her demeanor.

“You’re not seriously thinking about him,” Rafe muttered as he leaned down to speak in her ear, his hand brushing against her lower back.

“Why not?” Mei replied with a coy glance over her shoulder. “He’s hot, and I’m bored.”

“Hot?” Rafe scoffed, straightening up. “You’ve got low standards if that’s your type.”

Mei rolled her eyes. “Just because I don’t want to bang you doesn’t mean my standards are low.”

“Cute,” Rafe drawled, crossing his arms. “But Mason? Come on, Mei, the guy’s dumber than a bag of rocks.”

“That’s okay. I’m not trying to have an intellectual conversation with him.” Her tone was sharp, but her grin was teasing. She gave Rafe a little wink before striding off toward Mason.

Rafe watched her go, his jaw clenching as she swayed her hips just enough to draw attention. He wanted to roll his eyes at how obvious she was being, but the truth was, it pissed him off more than he cared to admit.

By the time Mei reached Mason, Rafe had already decided he wasn’t going to let this happen. Not tonight. Not with him.

Mason grinned when Mei sidled up to him, her hand brushing his arm as she leaned in close. Rafe could see her laughing at whatever Mason was saying, her hand lingering on his chest. It made his stomach churn.

Without thinking, Rafe grabbed a drink off the counter and strolled over. “Hey, Mason,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder a little harder than necessary. “Didn’t think you’d show up tonight. Weren’t you saying something about skipping this one?”

Mason looked confused, glancing between Rafe and Mei. “Uh, no, I don’t think so—”

“Really? Could’ve sworn you said something about how boring these things get.” Rafe cut him off smoothly, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

Mei narrowed her eyes at him, catching on immediately. “Rafe,” she said sweetly, her smile tight. “I’m sure Mason doesn’t need you putting words in his mouth.”

“Oh, I’m just making conversation,” Rafe said, shrugging innocently. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

But he didn’t leave, and his presence was enough to throw off whatever vibe Mei had been trying to create.

It happened again ten minutes later. Mei had managed to pull Mason onto the makeshift dance floor, her hands running up his chest as she pressed closer to him. Rafe leaned against the wall, watching with a dark expression before deciding he’d had enough.

He pushed off the wall and cut through the crowd, grabbing Mei’s wrist lightly but firmly. “Can I borrow her for a second?” he asked Mason, not bothering to wait for a response before pulling Mei away.

“What the hell, Rafe?” Mei hissed, yanking her arm back once they were out of earshot.

“You looked like you needed saving,” he said, his smirk infuriatingly smug.

“Saving?” Mei repeated, glaring at him. “From what? Having a good time?”

“From making a mistake,” Rafe shot back, his voice low but heated. “You don’t want Mason. Trust me.”

“Why do you even care?” Mei snapped, crossing her arms.

Rafe opened his mouth, then closed it, his jaw working as he tried to come up with a good answer. When he couldn’t, he just shrugged. “I just do, okay?”

Mei arched a brow, her lips curling into a smirk that held more frustration than amusement. "You just do, huh?" she mocked, crossing her arms. "That's not an answer, Rafe. It's an excuse."

Rafe's jaw tightened, his blue eyes locking onto hers. "Why are you making this such a big deal?"

"Because you're being a hypocrite!" Mei snapped, taking a step closer. "You screw around with half the girls in this town, and I don't say a damn thing about it. You're at every party, pulling girls into closets, making out with them in kitchens, and I don't care. So why the hell do you care if I want to have a little fun with Mason?"

Rafe's face darkened, but Mei wasn't finished. "Should we list names? Jessica, Lauren, Kate, Ashley, Sofia... oh, and let's not forget Clara from last weekend. Everyone knows about Clara, Rafe."

His lips parted, but no words came out. She'd hit a nerve, and they both knew it.

Mei leaned in, her voice dropping to a lower, more pointed tone. "You don't see me pulling you away from girls, do you? You don't see me cockblocking you. You can do whatever the hell you want, Rafe. So why can't I?"

For a moment, Rafe just stood there, his fists clenching at his sides. He hated hearing her say it-hated being reminded that she didn't care what he did, because maybe a part of him wanted her to. But he also hated the thought of Mason-stupid, clueless Mason-touching her, kissing her, taking her away from him, even for a night.

"You're right," Rafe said finally, his voice tight. "You don't care, and I shouldn't either."

Mei blinked, her anger faltering for just a second. She hadn't expected him to admit it so quickly-or at all. But before she could say anything, he stepped closer, his tone softening just enough to catch her off guard.

"But maybe I don't care about them," Rafe said, his eyes searching hers. "Not the way I care about you."

The words hung between them, heavy and unspoken for far too long. Mei's breath caught, her heart skipping a beat. She didn't know whether to believe him or to laugh in his face.

"You're full of shit," she said, her voice quieter now, though it lacked the usual bite.

"Maybe," Rafe admitted, a small, rueful smirk tugging at his lips. "But I meant it."

Mei scoffed at Rafe, a sharp, bitter laugh escaping her lips. “You meant it? Sure you did,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m going to find Mason and finish what I started.”

Rafe opened his mouth to protest, but she was already walking away, her heels clicking against the floor. His stomach churned, but he stayed rooted in place, watching as she disappeared into the crowd.

Mei found Mason near the kitchen again, his easy grin and casual demeanor drawing her in like a magnet. She didn’t hesitate, slipping into his space and tilting her head up with that signature coy smile.

“Hey,” she said, her voice dripping with honey. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

Mason raised a brow, his grin widening. “Avoiding you? Nah, Mei, you’d know if I was avoiding you.”

Her smile deepened as she leaned closer, her fingers brushing against his forearm. “Good. Because I was hoping we could pick up where we left off earlier. You’re the only person here who seems remotely interesting.”

Mason chuckled, taking a sip of his beer as his eyes scanned her face. “You’re bold. I’ll give you that.”

“You like bold, don’t you?” Mei countered, her voice teasing.

“I do,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to her lips before flicking back up to her eyes. “But…you’re kind of young for me, Mei.”

Her smile faltered, just for a second, before she quickly recovered. “Young? I’m eighteen. That’s hardly young.”

“For me? It is,” Mason said, his tone gentle but firm. “You’re…I don’t know, innocent. Sweet.”

Mei raised a brow, her ego bruised. “You think I’m innocent?” She laughed, but it sounded forced. “You don’t know me very well, do you?”

Mason shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe not, but I can tell. You don’t belong in a room full of assholes like me, Mei. You’re better than that.”

Her jaw tightened as his words sank in. Better? Innocent? She wasn’t sure if she was insulted or flattered, but she didn’t like how it felt.

“Well,” she said, straightening up and tossing her hair over her shoulder, “maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do. I’m not as sweet as you think, Mason.”

Mason chuckled, shaking his head. “Whatever you say, Mei. But I’m not going to be the guy who proves you wrong.”

Her lips parted in surprise, but Mason gave her an apologetic smile before stepping away, leaving her standing there, her pride wounded and her determination burning.

Mei downed the her drink, the alcohol doing little to temper the frustration bubbling in her chest. If Mason thought she was too innocent, then she’d make damn sure he saw otherwise.

She spotted him a little while later, leaning against the wall with a group of friends. Her steps were purposeful as she approached, her hips swaying just enough to catch his attention.

“Mason,” she said smoothly, interrupting the conversation. “Dance with me.”

He hesitated, glancing at his friends, but Mei wasn’t about to take no for an answer. She grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the dance floor before he could protest.

Once they were surrounded by the pulsing crowd, Mei turned to face him, pressing herself closer than she normally would. Her hands rested on his chest as she leaned up to his ear. “Still think I’m too sweet for you?” she whispered, her voice low and sultry.

Mason’s jaw ticked, his hands hovering at her hips before he reluctantly pulled back. “Mei, you’re proving my point.”

“Am I?” she challenged, her eyes flashing as she took a step closer. “Or are you just scared?”

Mason didn’t respond, his gaze flickering between her lips and her eyes before he finally stepped back, his hands falling to his sides.

“You’re gorgeous, Mei,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “But you don’t need to prove anything to me—or anyone else. Trust me, you’re better off without guys like me.”

Mei’s heart twisted, anger and embarrassment warring in her chest as she watched him walk away. But as she stood there, her cheeks flushed and her pride bruised, she realized she wasn’t done yet.

If Mason wanted her to prove him wrong, then that’s exactly what she’d do.

~~~

Mei’s fingers slid up Mason’s chest as she backed him into the bedroom, her confidence radiating even as her heart raced. She’d caught his attention again, and this time, he didn’t stop her. His lips tugged into a slow smirk, and she leaned in, her breath brushing against his ear.

“So, still think I’m too sweet?” she murmured, her tone dripping with challenge.

Mason chuckled, his hands finally landing on her waist. “Maybe I was wrong about you,” he said, his voice low.

She grinned, pushing the door closed behind them. Her lips found his, the kiss hot and electric as her hands tangled in his hair. For a moment, she reveled in it—the thrill of the chase, the satisfaction of proving herself. But as Mason’s hands began to roam her body, a flicker of doubt crept in.

The taste was wrong. The way he held her was wrong. It wasn’t…

Rafe.

Her mind betrayed her, conjuring his face instead of Mason’s. She could practically feel Rafe’s cocky smirk, hear his rough laugh, smell his familiar cologne. The thought jolted her, but instead of pulling away, she leaned in deeper, trying to shake it off.

“Mei,” Mason murmured against her lips, his hands tightening on her hips. But his voice wasn’t the one she wanted to hear.

Outside the cracked door, Rafe leaned against the wall, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. He’d been watching them earlier, his blood boiling as Mei had flirted her way into Mason’s arms. It didn’t matter that some blonde was draped over him now, her lips on his neck and her hands pulling at his shirt. His eyes kept flicking back to that door, his imagination running wild, each thought worse than the last.

“You good, baby?” the blonde purred, her nails raking down his chest.

Rafe forced a smirk, his hand sliding to her waist. “Never better,” he lied, pulling her into him. If Mei wanted to play this game, so could he.

Back in the bedroom, Mason’s kisses trailed down Mei’s neck, but her mind was far from the present. She closed her eyes, biting her lip as her thoughts drifted to Rafe. The way he teased her, the way his hands lingered just a second too long when he zipped her dress, the way he always seemed to know how to get under her skin.

Her breathing hitched, and Mason paused, pulling back to look at her. “You okay?”

She nodded quickly, her hands framing his face to pull him back to her. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, her voice shaky.

But as their lips met again, she couldn’t stop herself. In her mind, it wasn’t Mason she was kissing anymore. It was Rafe—arrogant, infuriating, complicated Rafe.

Her fingers curled into Mason’s shirt as she kissed him harder, desperate to drown out the confusion swirling inside her. But the more she tried, the more Rafe’s face, his voice, his touch consumed her thoughts.

And it was driving her crazy.

Mei's back hit the mattress, and her heart pounded against her ribs as she pulled Mason-or at least she thought it was Mason-closer. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. She closed her eyes, her hands running up his chest, and in her mind, it wasn't Mason above her anymore.

It was Rafe.

His smirk burned into her thoughts, his cocky, teasing words echoing in her ears. His hands weren't soft or cautious like Mason's-they were rough, confident, possessive. As her nails dragged along his skin, she could almost hear Rafe's low chuckle, the one that always made her stomach twist in the best and worst ways.

"Thought you wanted Mason," the Rafe in her mind teased, his lips brushing her ear as his hand pinned her wrist to the bed.

Her breath hitched, her body reacting to the idea of him rather than the reality in front of her. "Shut up," she murmured, the words spilling from her lips before she could stop them.

Mason froze for a second. "What?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, pulling him back down, desperate to keep going, desperate to hold onto the fantasy she was spinning in her head.

Rafe's voice was still there, taunting her. His lips moved from her ear to her neck, his teeth grazing her skin just enough to send a shiver down her spine. His hands roamed her body like they owned it, rough and unapologetic, setting her every nerve on fire.

"You like this, don't you?" his voice growled in her mind, and she could only gasp in response.

The lines between fantasy and reality blurred as she arched her back, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "Rafe..." she whispered before she could stop herself, the name slipping out like a confession.

Mason pulled back, his brows furrowed. "Did you just say Rafe?"

Her eyes snapped open, the illusion shattering as reality crashed back in. Mason stared down at her, confusion and hurt written all over his face, and Mei's stomach dropped.

"I-" She scrambled for an explanation, but her lips wouldn't form the words. Her heart raced, her mind a mess of guilt and frustration.

Mason sat up, running a hand through his hair as he sighed. "Mei, what the hell?"

She couldn't answer, her thoughts still spinning with the image of Rafe - his smirk, his touch, his everything.

"Maybe I should go," Mason said, shaking his head as he climbed off the bed.

Mei didn't stop him. She couldn't. Because deep down, she knew the truth.

It wasn't Mason she wanted.

It had always been Rafe.

Mei stormed out of the bedroom, her mind racing and her chest tight. Her body was buzzing with frustration, not just at Mason for turning her down, but at herself for not being able to get Rafe out of her head. She needed to find him - now.

She moved through the crowd, ignoring the drunken laughs and blaring music as she asked around. "Have you seen Rafe?" she demanded from a girl near the drinks table.

The girl pointed toward the corner of the room with a smirk. "Over there, probably charming the pants off someone."

Mei's jaw clenched as she turned in the direction she'd been given, and sure enough, there he was. Leaning against the wall, Rafe had a blonde pressed up against him, his hands gripping her waist while his mouth worked against hers. The sight sent a flash of heat and anger surging through Mei, her nails curling into her palms.

What the hell was he doing?

Without thinking, she marched across the room, her heels clicking loudly against the hardwood floor. Rafe didn't even notice her approach, too caught up in whatever nonsense he was whispering in the blonde's ear. Mei felt her stomach twist at the sight, her frustration boiling over as she shoved her way between them.

"Move," Mei said sharply to the blonde, who blinked in shock but stepped aside, intimidated by Mei's sudden burst of authority.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk lazy and amused as he looked down at Mei. "Jealous, Peach?" he teased, licking his lips as if to taunt her further.

Instead of answering, Mei grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down to her level, crashing her lips against his in a kiss that was equal parts anger and need. Rafe froze for half a second, startled, but quickly recovered. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer as he kissed her back, just as fiery and aggressive as she was.

The room around them seemed to disappear, the music fading into the background as Mei poured all of her pent-up frustration into the kiss. Her fingers twisted into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan against her lips.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rafe muttered when they finally broke apart, his voice rough and breathless.

Mei glared at him, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. "You're mine tonight," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Rafe's smirk widened, his hands tightening on her hips. "Oh, is that how it is?"

"Yeah," Mei said, her voice low and daring. "You got a problem with that?"

"Not at all, Peach," Rafe replied, his eyes darkening with something that made her stomach flip. "Not at all."

Without another word, she pulled him back down, her lips crashing into his once more, determined to drown out every thought and feeling in the only way she knew how-with him.

Rafe let out a low chuckle as Mei yanked him toward the door, her grip firm on his wrist. "In a rush, Peach?" he teased, though the heat in his voice betrayed that he was just as eager.

"Shut up and move," Mei snapped, throwing a glance over her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes blazing with determination.

The cool night air hit them as they stumbled out of the house. The muffled thump of the party music faded into the background, and Mei's heels clicked against the pavement as she led him to his car.

Rafe smirked when she stopped in front of his sleek black SUV, her chest heaving with adrenaline. "Could've just asked nicely," he drawled, unlocking the car with a click.

Mei didn't bother with a reply. She shoved him against the side of the car, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt as she crushed her lips against his. It was messy and desperate, her frustration pouring into every kiss, every nip of his bottom lip.

Rafe groaned against her mouth, his hands sliding to her waist and pulling her closer. "Damn, Peach," he muttered, his voice rough and teasing. "Didn't know you were so needy."

"Shut up," Mei hissed, her fingers already fumbling with the handle of the back door. She yanked it open and shoved him inside, climbing in after him.

The space was tight, but Mei didn't care. She straddled him on the backseat, her dress riding up as she settled on his lap. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him into another searing kiss.

Rafe's hands roamed her thighs, slipping under the fabric of her dress and gripping her hips. "You sure about this?" he murmured, his lips brushing her jaw.

She glared at him, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Do I look unsure?"

Rafe grinned, his eyes dark and hungry. "Fair point."

Their movements became a blur of urgency-clothes tugged aside, breathless gasps filling the confined space. Mei's mind was a whirlwind, her frustration and desire finally colliding in the only way she could think to satisfy them.

Every touch, every kiss, every groan that escaped Rafe's lips sent a jolt of electricity through her. And when he finally pressed her back against the seat, his hands firm on her hips as he moved against her, all the tension she'd been carrying melted away, replaced by pure, unfiltered heat.

"Peach," Rafe groaned, his voice low and wrecked, his forehead resting against hers.

"Don't stop," Mei whispered, her nails raking down his back.

And for once, Rafe didn't have a smart-ass comment. He just gave her what she needed, every moment a chaotic, messy, and perfect blur.

Rafe's hands gripped Mei's thighs tightly, his fingers digging into her skin as if anchoring himself. The cramped space of the car only heightened the heat between them, their bodies pressed together with no room for hesitation. Mei's dress was bunched up around her waist, the fabric forgotten as Rafe's rough palms slid along her bare skin, his movements deliberate and teasing.

"God, Mei," he muttered, his voice thick and uneven, lips brushing against her ear. "You're driving me fucking insane."

"Good," Mei shot back, her breath hitching as his mouth trailed along her neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses. Her hands fumbled at his shirt, pushing it up and over his head with a huff of frustration when it got caught on his arm.

Rafe chuckled darkly, helping her with a cocky smirk. "Impatient much?"

"Shut up," she snapped, her hands moving to the button of his jeans, popping it open with more force than necessary. She didn't have time for his snark; her body was buzzing with frustration and need, and every second they spent talking felt like a waste.

Rafe leaned back against the seat, watching her with hooded eyes as she worked on freeing him. His lips quirked up in that familiar smug grin, but there was something more in his gaze-something darker, hungrier.

When she finally succeeded, her hand wrapped around him, and Rafe let out a sharp breath, his head falling back against the window. "Fuck, Peach," he groaned, his voice low and guttural.

Mei shifted on his lap, aligning herself without hesitation. Her eyes locked onto his, daring him to say something snarky, but Rafe was too far gone for words. The moment she sank down onto him, a sharp gasp escaped her lips, her nails digging into his shoulders as her body adjusted to the intrusion.

"Jesus," Rafe hissed, his hands flying to her hips to steady her. His grip was firm but not controlling, his thumbs stroking her skin almost tenderly. "You're-fuck, Mei."

Her head fell back as she began to move, slow and deliberate at first, testing her limits. The stretch burned in the best way, and the friction sent shocks of pleasure through her body, curling in her stomach like fire.

Rafe's control snapped as she found her rhythm, his hips lifting to meet hers with every thrust. His hands guided her movements, his fingers pressing hard enough to leave marks. The car was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing, the slap of skin against skin, and Mei's soft, breathless moans.

"Rafe," she whispered, his name falling from her lips like a prayer, and it sent him over the edge.

He surged forward, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with hers as their movements grew more desperate, more frantic. One of his hands slid up her back, tangling in her hair, while the other stayed on her hip

Rafe's hands gripped Mei's thighs tightly, his fingers digging into her skin as if anchoring himself. The cramped space of the car only heightened the heat between them, their bodies pressed together with no room for hesitation. Mei's dress was bunched up around her waist, the fabric forgotten as Rafe's rough palms slid along her bare skin, his movements deliberate and teasing.

Rafe's grip tightened as his movements became rougher, need overtaking any restraint he might've had. Mei's fingers dug into his shoulders, her nails dragging down his skin, leaving red trails in their wake. Every roll of her hips sent shivers through her, the pressure building inside her like a storm ready to break.

"God, Rafe," she gasped against his lips, her voice breathless and trembling. His name spilled from her mouth like a mantra, each syllable laced with desperation and pleasure.

"You feel so fucking good," he growled, his voice gravelly and low. His lips trailed down her jaw to her neck, sucking at the delicate skin there, his teeth grazing just enough to leave a mark.

Mei's head fell back, her hair brushing against the roof of the car as her body arched into him. "Harder," she demanded, her voice low but commanding, and Rafe didn't hesitate.

He gripped her hips harder, lifting her slightly before slamming her back down, each thrust hitting deeper and harder than the last. Mei's cries grew louder, her hands tangling in his hair as she tugged, pulling his head back to capture his lips again in a messy, heated kiss.

The car windows fogged up, the air inside thick with heat and the scent of their bodies. The cramped space forced them closer, their movements tangled and frantic as they chased their release together.

"Look at me," Rafe demanded, his voice sharp but full of want. His hand cupped her jaw, tilting her face toward his as his dark blue eyes burned into hers. "I want to see you."

Her eyes fluttered open, locking onto his, and the intensity in his gaze sent a new wave of heat rushing through her. Her body trembled, her breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps as she teetered on the edge.

"I can't-" Mei started, her words breaking off into a moan as her body tightened around him.

"You can," Rafe murmured, his lips brushing against hers, his voice softer now but no less commanding. "Come on, Peach. Let go."

That was all it took. Her body shuddered, waves of pleasure crashing over her as she cried out his name, her nails biting into his skin. Rafe wasn't far behind, a low groan tearing from his throat as he gripped her tightly, his body tensing as he found his release.

For a moment, the only sound was their ragged breathing, their bodies still tangled together as they came down from the high. Mei rested her forehead against Rafe's, her eyes closed as she tried to steady her racing heart.

"Feel better now?" Rafe asked after a beat, his voice teasing but still rough from the intensity of what they'd just shared.

Mei let out a soft, breathless laugh, her lips quirking into a small smile. "Shut up," she muttered, but there was no bite to her words.

Rafe smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Didn't think you'd actually go through with pulling me out of the party for this," he said, his tone smug.

Mei rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched upward. "I needed to prove a point," she said, leaning back slightly.

"Oh, you proved it," Rafe replied, his grin widening. "And I think I won."

Mei scoffed, sliding off his lap and smoothing down her dress. "Whatever helps you sleep at night," she shot back, though the faint blush on her cheeks gave her away.

Rafe leaned back, watching her with a satisfied smirk as she adjusted herself. "You're not getting rid of me that easily now, Peach," he teased, his tone light but his eyes lingering on her with something deeper.

Mei didn't respond, but the way her lips curled into a small, secretive smile told him everything he needed to know.

previous next

[thewisedoge]

Jimmy from Mouthwashing and Judge Claude Frollo from Hunchback Of Notre Dame are the same character but in a different font. (A short analysis)

Okay. I only recently played and finished Mouthwashing. (Masterpiece btw)

I could not shake this off after I had a long ass time to process it, but I'm gonna say it.

Jimmy and Judge Claude Frollo are VERY similar... And I don't mean with how they look. (Even though they do have an identical face shape and hairline.)

Let's get the obvious similarity they share out of the way.

They're both manipulative pieces of shit.

They always want to feel bigger, or more important than everyone around them and the people they know. How Anya treats Jimmy post... the incident, is pretty reminiscent of how Quasimodo acts around Frollo. They both don't want to set them off, or to anger them in fear of what they might do.

They also try to play themselves up as a "savior" or a "misunderstood hero" as a way to deflect blame or to excuse their actions. Whether that be with Frollo proclaiming himself using the good old "holier than thou" technique, using his own status as Judge to excuse his horrid actions under the guise of "justice".

(They weren't subtle with Frollo doing this in the movie either. This is a lyric in Hellfire.)

Or with Jimmy trying to be the self appointed "captain" after the crash, trying to assert his authority and make the others feel like they're being unreasonable, while also being outright RESPONSIBLE for the injuries or torment of others, excusing it as him "doing his job" in his head.

One of their biggest similarities however is how their lust and fear of consequences (or taking responsibility lmao) blinded them. Jimmy lusted over Anya, Frollo lusted over Esmeralda. Their depravity led them to their own downfalls.

Frollo was very creepy towards Esmeralda and didn't actually do anything to her on the same level as Jimmy did to Anya. But this also explains another similarity.

How they both saw their female victim as an object.

In the hallucinations, Jimmy encounters that giant slit mouthed monster with bulging eyes that birthed that creepy baby centipede thing. That's how he saw Anya, just a literal sentient BIRTH CANAL with eyes that was going to bring upon consequences to his own actions.

Frollo also saw Esmeralda as nothing more than an object, he quite literally offers that if she gave herself up to him he would spare her from her "rightful punishment" and not burn her at the stake. He didn't LOVE her, he wanted to OWN her.

It's even said outright in the stage adaptation by Quasimodo, when Frollo stands with him as he mourns Esmeralda when she passes from her injuries and says that he "even loved her". When this happens, Quasimodo yells in pure anguish and hated...

"What do you know of love?.. WHO HAVE YOU EVER LOVED?!"

I adore this game and how it was written. I adore The Hunchback Of Notre Dame despite my sheer hatred for corporate Disney's bigoted and overall stupid practices nowadays. I love complex villains!!!!

... Anyway why did I make this post?

Oh yeah.

Someone should draw or make an animatic of Jimmy singing Hellfire it would be perfect.

Please.

(Edit: I added some more images to the post to covey my points a bit more, but I am so happy with the reception and attention this post has been getting. It means a lot that there's a group of people here that will listen to my interpretations or analyses on my favorite pieces of media. It made me so happy to see this post rack up this many likes despite it not being much. Tysm. <3)

(Edit 2: In case anyone who sees or likes this post, I want to let you know that I have written scripts for media analysis videos and I'm in the process of finishing and recording it! Feel free to follow to hear any updates or what media I will cover in my videos. :3)

[princess-of-the-corner]

I had too much fun with the life swap and extended it to other characters XD Ignore Miraculous and Amoks for the moment, this is about dynamics!

Nino swaps with Sabrina, IE, glasses childhood best friend who is haplessly crushing on their other half.

For Sabrina his is actually pretty straight forward as its both a crush but also admiration. Chloe is bold, aggressive, passionate, not at all like her who is a shrinking violet. But the thing is if they started dating, she'd be so stressed out all the time because "What do you mean you got in a fist fight with Kim? Why are you skateboarding with Alix down a cliff, did you seriously spit in that Akuma's face!?"

Basically they are friends, but also the embodiment of "This is fun!" - "Stressful is what it is!"

Nino meanwhile has had his interest in film backed and sponsored by Dupain-Cheng money since forever. And he's also been making Marinette the star of said films since forever. To the point where all the films and ideas he comes up with are built around her interests rather than his. This can be fine but can lead to tension if someone encourages him to finally make that horror film he always wanted.

They are friends, but the toxic, transactional nature of it all is an ever-growing undercurrent.

Now for the transfer student swap!

Alya's mother is a famous TV chef, her father is a famous TV personality for his animal program, (Basically Steve Erwin but more aloof) While her sister is a world champion kick boxer and MMA fighter. Alya meanwhile is a social media personality, it wasn't planned, it just kind of happened but once she got some attention for a "Day in my life" video, suddenly her parents are throwing money and resources and pressure behind it in the extreme.

Rather than pure childhood friends, Alya & Marinette are more social media friends meeting for the first time. Marinette's Velvet glove is harder to notice than canon Chloe's iron fist but it will cause tension.

Meanwhile Adrien is returning to Paris after nearly a decade away. His parents both work in television, his mother is basically a C list celebrity in long running daytime dramas and is father work in costuming, they were also meant to help Andre with his new "Perfect families in Paris" campaign but then a super villain showed up.

Adrien and Chloe are very much childhood friends reconnecting, but thanks to Adrien being "Down for anything" after a decade with over protective parents, they click!

-

As an aside, I imagine Chloe & Marinette's dynamic is also different, but definitely tense. I basically imagine Marinette might still be into fashion and she wants to be a "Self made millionaire" type. So she doesn't just want her parents advocating for her, or buying her stuff. So she instead uses money, resources and clot provided by being their daughter to try and crow-bar her way into the industry.

See its different because she's using their influence, rather than them using their influence ;)

Anyway, because of this, she wanted Audrey to review one of her pieces, waiting till Chloe desperately needed something and struck. Then one of the following happened:

1: Audrey refused to review it because she's a grown up with contractual obligations who can't just run some random teenagers designs on a whim when she has people scheduled.

2: Marinette found someone "better" and so carelessly withdrew her support for Chloe before realizing the implications.

3: Audrey reviewed it but was not breathless with her praise, basically: You clearly have talent, but could improve on X Y, and you should ask yourself who you are designing for, or else you may struggle to find an audience, good luck." & oh boy was that not good enough!

Whatever the case, Marinette withdrew her support from Chloe right when she needed it most and it led to a huge row and basically demonstrated how Fairweather Marinette's friendship was.

No they hadn't been super close, but Chloe had thought they were friends to one degree or another and getting closer, this was a blow.

Marinette meanwhile, well, she dislikes that Chloe saw that side of her with such clarity because its a side of her she doesn't like, but doesn't want to face. So instead it has to be Chloe's fault somehow.

Thus the two have tension.

Ohohoho I love it!

Okay but what are we doing with the Heroes and Villains angle? Would it still be Gabe as Hawkmoth trying to resurrect Emilie? Or do the Cesaires get to be Villains? Would Mari and Adrien still be LB and CN, or are different people getting the Miraculous? Should we limit it to the full swap for Chloé and Alya, or is it open to anyone?

[cuntylestat]

you say change religions, now i spend sundays with you

(youtube)

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

BTS Memories of 2020 Daechwita Mv Making Film cr. 0613data

[iraprince]

if u like listening to music while u work but find urself getting distracted fiddling with queueing stuff/finding The Perfect Playlist/etc my recent hack has been just throwing on youtube videos of dj sets

book club radio is a good channel to start w bc they usually have the overall Vibe of the set in the title (i.e. "dreamy pop mix", "energetic techno mix" etc) so u can pick the general tempo or w/e u want but then it just kind of blends into the bg and u can set it + forget it

any time i put my own playlists on i'm just too familiar w what could be coming up and i end up wasting so much time skipping/scrolling 2 look for specific songs and stuff. dj sets are like putting a post-op doggy cone on me. it;'s out of my hands

[tangents-within-tangents]

Thinking about the song "Ship in Port" by Radical Face and clones

Thinking about the line "Farewell to the chains we were born into" and what that can mean for the clones

Thinking about how "But I have always stayed in place/Under that old illusion that it's safe" could equally describe Hunter, Echo, and (s1+2) Crosshair's complete opposite approaches to the Empire and post-war life.

The way Crosshair clings to his identity as a soldier of the Empire

And Echo as a soldier of the Republic

But Hunter puts his identity as a soldier behind him

Crosshair fights for the Empire to gain purpose

Echo fights against the Empire to save his brothers

And Hunter decides the Empire is too strong to even try to oppose

"A ship in port is a safer one"

"but it's not the reason it was made"

"So forgive me if I wander off"

"And forgive me more if I just stay"

Thinking about what The Bad Batch could have been if it had more fully explored the differences between those ideologies

(Thinking about what The Bad Batch could have been if it had dedicated more screen time to the 'reg' clones within the Empire and the underground network's fight to free them , instead of just sidelining Echo and Rex for a hypothetical clone rebellion show we might never get)