#this one was HARD to get done for some reason

[keferon]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 2/?

*slips another piece into your mailbox*

_____________________

Jazz was still feeling a little woozy from his donation in the dark hours of the morning. Blaster had breakfast changed from the usual to something that felt more like a treat, probably a reward for his good behaviour, and to help his body recover. Fish heavy in proteins, fat, all that healthy stuff. Something that normally he would have tried to savour, but he wolfed it down from excitement. Too many questions ran through his head, and most he couldn't bring himself to voice.

The mer, the mer would pull through. Blaster told him about how he had saved their life with his blood. Praised him high and low. Because Blaster knew how Jazz felt about seeing blood, about how hard blood tests were for him, and that was only a tiny vial. Not three big bags of it. Jazz hadn't seen how much they had taken – because he had kept his eye closed until they left in a hurry –, and hearing about it made him dizzy for other reasons, but he honestly felt real proud of himself.

It was a new feeling, different from other moments of pride – like when he figured out the lock codes. Yeah, this gave him butterflies and the drive to help more.

Blaster laughed when Jazz offered that the vets could take more if the other mer needed it. His handler didn't think it would be, but he would pass it on to the vet team.

Jazz's morning checks were a little off, expected with having a little less fluids and feeling off-balance, but it was kept short and quick. Blaster told him that if he learned anything more, he'd tell him next time he came by and then hurried back down to the staff area. Blaster was needed elsewhere, understandably as there weren't many mer experts here, though he did leave Jazz his waterproof stereo if he wanted to play some of his favourites.

But, the orca mer was far too busy causing a whirlpool from the laps he was swimming. He was too excited to sit still, and embarrassment be damned he started practising old vocals. He didn't remember much of his mother tongue, and he was pretty sure that his pronunciation was off, that or had one hell of an accent. Echo-speech was even more rusty. And once he had gone over and over what he could recall, Jazz began to really worry. A few sentences and handful or so of words was all he had? Gods, I hope I can at least make a decent first impression. Blaster said they were just like me, so hopefully, that will give me some starting points.

More than he cared to count, Jazz would swim into the shallow waters of the medical bay and hope to see something through that window. But no one ever came close enough for him to hear any news of the mer. He couldn't even see anything on his radar, wherever they had done treatment, it wasn't in the hospital ward. It almost felt like he was being purposely kept in the dark.

And just when Jazz was starting to worry that things had taken a bad turn, a group of staff turned up around four pm. He wasn't able to ask any questions, or rather they refused to answer. Shooing him away as they got to work. Starting with closing the gate to the bay to 'keep him out'. Jazz could easily climb those walls, but that wasn't the point. Even if the gate window was closed, he could pick up that they were setting up the water hammock. But it wasn't until he heard the cautionary beeping of the hoist lift approaching that it dawned on him – the mer was coming. Now.

"Jazz," Blaster called, "… Jazz," he blew the training whistle and finally got his mer's attention. "Stop pacing and get over here."

"But–" Jazz looked back longingly up the wall.

"Jazz," his tone dropped to a firm one, and Jazz begrudgingly swam over to the pier. The human crouched and made sure that they held eye contact before he spoke. "I need you to promise me that you will stay in your enclosure."

He sunk a little, trying to play into his cuteness, but being far too anxious to really pull it off. "What do you mean?"

"Jazz," now warning him. Blaster knew full well that he was more than capable of getting into or out of places he shouldn't, bloody Houdini mermaid, "this is serious. Things are going well, we want to keep it that way. Which means keeping things calm and feeling safe. You're excited, I get it, we all are. But in about an hour, they'll be waking up and – from past experience seen with wild Mers – they will likely freak out. And the last thing we need is you hauling your tail over that wall and making things worse. Understand?"

The beeping was louder how and the hiss of hydraulics caused Jazz to look up. The arm of the lift was visible over the wall. They're here!

"Jazz," Blaster hopelessly called for his attention once more.

Within moments, a massive bundle was carefully raised, the staff calling out and coordinating. Jazz's gaze was fixed on the black and white fluke poking out, it was the only part of them he could see, and his heart began to race. Once they became hidden by the wall again, Jazz moved back to pacing by the gate without even thinking. Listening to people hopping into the water to unstrap the mer and call back n' forth. "Careful, careful! – Watch the head! – Someone give me a hand over here! – We're clear on this side! – Keep the head up!"

Really starting to sound like a broken record, Blaster chirped the whistle and called out to him again. The expression he wore must have been pretty pitiful because the look on Blaster's face dropped. "If I open the view port… will you promise me that you will wait, that you will stay in your enclosure?"

"I promise," he answered hastily, placing his hands on the gate, over the panel that would slide open.

"And that you will wait until everything is in the clear, till the staff come to oversee the integration. There will be no rushing things and no asking staff when we will open the gate."

"I promise," he repeated, trying not to beg.

Satisfied, Blaster pulled out his radio, "Blaster to Control; when the team is out of the Mer enclosure's medical bay, open the view port. Jazz's stress is mounting without a visual."

"Can do," came a quick reply.

Though, opening the panel was not. Several minutes went by, the hoist had cleared out, and much of the staff had returned to their other duties. Only two remained double-checking the mer's breathing and pulse. The moment that the last of them left, Jazz heard the lock disengage, and he retracted his hands as the panel shifted and began to slide open. The window was too small to get more than his hand – maybe up to his elbow if he wanted to push it – through, and sat just at water level– any movement sending water hopping to either side. But it gave him a clear view of the surface area inside.

Oh.

Oh. Jazz stopped breathing. While the mer's body was mostly supported by the fabric of the hammock, cradling them on their side, effectively hiding most of them from Jazz's angle. Propped up on a soft floating platform was the mer's head, face towards the gate. Sharp features and elegantly shaped finials, with flattering lines of their markings complimenting the peaceful expression as they slept. The butterflies from earlier came back stronger than ever, his heart thundering as words fumbled from Jazz's lips, "he's beautiful…"

_____________________

-GLC

Orca Prowl really is just-- too fucking pretty, omg, I'm living through Jazz in this moment like when I first saw your designs of him.

I'm more than happy to continue writing for you, you bring me so much joy. I screamed when I saw how much you liked it. If you have any requests you would like me to add to the story, leave it in the tags or comments ♡ I now plan to continue until the tsunami and a bit afterwards, maybe more, we'll see~

Oh. MY GOD. OKAY ALRIGHT OKAY ALRIGHT OKA

I'M ABOUT TO START PACING IN CIRCLES JUST LIKE JAZZ OVER HERE KDLCNFJFLFB PL E A S E THIS IS SO GOOD. The tension?? You can fucking TASTE it IT'S SO GREAT GLC I LOVE YOU

The way it all starts at night and then you (as a reader) have all this additional time to boil in your anticipation?? So fucking great. Like you can really feel how little power Jazz has over the wholse situation. The plot is moving but he doesn't have any saying in it. Well. Yet heheh

Anyway haha. Im normal and I made some art>:D

[flwrkid14]

Tim Works Hard So He Can Nap Harder

The thing about Tim is that he gets things done.

Not in a normal, reasonable, “wow, he’s really productive” way. No, Tim operates on an entirely different plane of efficiency—one that defies common sense and possibly the laws of physics.

Give him a five-hour task? He’ll finish it in two. Tell him something is impossible? He’ll stare at you, offended, before proving you so wrong it physically hurts.

Sometimes, it’s out of sheer spite. Bruce once told him a mission was too complicated for him to handle alone, so Tim completed it in record time out of pettiness alone. Jason told Tim he didn’t have the skill set for corporate espionage. So Tim hacked three shell companies overnight, uncovered Black Mask’s entire financial network, and sent Jason a PowerPoint presentation with the subject line: “Skill Set Acquired”.

Other times, it’s about time management. Tim understands, at his very core, that the faster he works, the sooner he can stop working. If he has to burn through a mountain of reports in a single hour so he can take a nap, then so be it. If he has to analyze data at inhuman speeds so he can binge-watch a show later, then he will.

The bats have learned to just… let it happen.

Dick once made the mistake of asking Tim to help him streamline his schedule. Tim, in under an hour, not only optimized his entire calendar but also accounted for every possible emergency, scheduled backup time slots for rescheduling, and somehow made Dick twice as productive without making him feel busier. It was kinda terrifying.

Barbara asked him to double-check some intel. He cross-referenced it against every available database, found three hidden links no one had noticed, and sent her a color-coded report with visual aids.

Bruce told him to track a smuggling ring in Gotham. Tim mapped out their entire operation in one night, had arrests lined up by morning, and then went home to sleep like a corpse.

Steph once sarcastically asked if Tim could figure out how to clean up the Gotham underworld in a week. Tim pulled out a ten-step plan before she even finished her sentence.

Tim doesn’t waste time. He doesn’t believe in half-measures. He works fast, works well, and then disappears before anyone can ask him for more.

The only thing scarier than Tim’s efficiency is the fact that he actively chooses to use it selectively.

Because while Tim is capable of working like a one-man army, when it benefits him, he’s also capable of weaponized uselessness. If he doesn’t want to do something, suddenly he’s the most inefficient person alive.

He’ll take weeks to answer a text. He’ll forget how to do basic tasks. He’ll act so completely incapable of anything that people just stop asking him for things.

But when he wants something done?

It’s over before you even realize he started.

[pluckyredhead]

Do you think Dick has a favourite brother?

I LOVE THIS QUESTION. I'M GOING TO ANSWER IT AT UNNECESSARY LENGTH.

But for the tl;dr crowd: yes, 1000000%. It's Damian. Dick would not admit this under pain of death, even to himself, but it's Damian.

THE LONG VERSION:

So Dick and Jason are not close and never have been. I always sort of blink in bewilderment when people say they are, or were when Jason was Robin, because they are demonstrably not, and that's what's interesting and tragic about them.

The fact of the matter is that Dick simply wasn't around very much when Jason was Robin. The Doyleist reason for this is that he wasn't really being treated like a Bat character: he was a Titans character, appearing in Titans books, with only the occasional cameo in Batbooks. He and Jason get along very well in Jason's first origin story (when Jason was a circus acrobat and his parents were eaten by crocodiles); in fact, Dick tells Bruce he wants to adopt Jason and Bruce is like "Not if I adopt him first!" But after that, Dick simply...wasn't there very often.

If you need a Watsonian reason for this, it's pretty easy to extrapolate one. Dick and Bruce were not getting along well during this period, so of course Dick would avoid Bruce and Gotham. And yeah, I think it's fair to assume Dick felt some kind of complicated feelings about Bruce having a new Robin, especially post-Crisis when Bruce made Jason Robin without Dick having any say or even a warning that it was going to happen. I tend to headcanon that he resented Jason a little, but was mature enough to know that it wasn't actually Jason's fault, and partially decided to stay away so that he didn't take that out on Jason. But Jason, a smart and sensitive kid, interpreted this as Dick avoiding him because he didn't like him.

And then Jason died.

Dick took that hard, and I think it was less "my brother who I had a close relationship with died" and more "this child followed in my footsteps and it killed him and I wasn't even there for him when I had the chance." To me, that absolutely forms the subtext of the relationship he develops with Tim.

Not at the start. At the start, once "A Lonely Place of Dying" is over, he's as checked out with Tim as he was with Jason. The Doyleist reason is the same - Dick literally just wasn't supposed to be in Batbooks too much - but the way it plays out is sometimes really funny in an awful way. Like in and just after Knightfall, when Bruce gets his back broken by Bane and is like "I've known Jean-Paul Valley for two weeks and he barely has any training, most of it done by my extremely new 13-year-old Robin...I think I'll make him Batman." And then Tim's dad and Tim's dad's doctor, Shondra Kinsolving, get kidnapped, and since Bruce has been aggressively romantically pursuing Shondra to the point of it being uncomfortable and inappropriate, he's like "Okay going to rescue Shondra! I mean, your dad! I'm taking Alfred with me! Tim, you're in charge of Gotham and Jean-Paul byeeeeee!" And then JPV immediately gets unhinged and violent and tries to kill Tim and Tim keeps calling Alfred like "Um can you please come back and help" and Alfred's like "No" and Tim's like "Okay well did you at least rescue my dad?" and Alfred's like "Also no." Anyway Dick finally comes to Gotham and Tim is like "THANK GOD, HELP, BRUCE MADE AZRAEL BATMAN AND HE'S TRYING TO KILL EVERYONE, I NEED AN ADULT" and Dick is like "He made someone who isn't me Batman??? 😡😡😡" and then just...fucks off back to New York and leaves Tim to deal with it. Very out of character, VERY funny.

BUT ANYWAY. Then we get to around 1996 and 1. Dick is no longer on the Titans which has a whole new lineup and 2. there's an editorial shift emphasizing the Batfamily. This is where the line really expands: Robin (started in 1993, but still pretty new), Nightwing, Birds of Prey, Azrael, eventually Gotham Knights in 1999 and Batgirl in 2000. Dick moves to Bludhaven and spends way more time in Gotham.

This is when Dick looks at Tim, says "Is anyone gonna big brother that?" and doesn't wait for an answer. All of a sudden he's behaving in a way that suddenly feels in character for him (although the idea of Dick as a big brother/mentor...really wasn't a thing for him prior to this era, so it's more of a new development that feels correct in retrospect). He's training Tim, he's giving him advice, he's teasing him about girls, he's coming up with inside jokes, he's giving him noogies. It's like he watched a bunch of 80s sitcoms to learn how to be a big brother and applied his research accordingly.

And Tim? Tim absolutely blossoms under the attention. Tim, who has been adultified by every other adult in his life since he was, like, eight, is getting treated like a kid. Tim, whose parents are never around, and don't pay attention when they are around, has an adult he looks up to who wants to spend time with him, for fun. Tim, who has hero worshipped Dick Grayson since he was...well, according to the math, he was one (1) year old so let's ignore the math, but he was small, is now basking in the full force of Dick Grayson's off-the-charts charisma. This is the best thing that has ever happened to Tim. This is the dream.

I want to be clear here: I think Dick's extreme reversal here is a delayed reaction to Jason's death, but I don't want to imply that he doesn't care about Tim as an individual. He loves Tim as much as Tim loves him. Tim's good opinion is incredibly important to him. This relationship goes both ways.

Annnnd then both of their lives fall apart extremely rapidly, and Damian shows up, and Bruce dies. And Dick tries to get out of it, but ultimately it ends how it has to: with him accepting the mantle of Batman, and responsibility for Damian.

The relationship Dick has with Damian is nothing like the relationship Dick has with Tim. Tim is his little bro. Damian is his baby. He's fourteen years older than Damian and as much of a parent figure as a sibling figure. And Damian is difficult and exhausting but Dick slowly, slowly coaxes a degree of trust and affection out of him that even Bruce will never achieve. And he can only do that by making Damian Robin, which means Tim has to stop being Robin.

This is where Dick and Tim fall apart, because what they need in this very vulnerable moment is so diametrically opposed, and neither of them are wrong. To Dick, asking Tim to step down - or up, from Dick's perspective - from being Robin is a compliment. Dick fought to free himself from Bruce, to become his own man with his own name, and so asking Tim to do the same thing is a show of faith in Tim, in his skills and experience.

Whereas Tim's hero-worship has always been for Robin, not Batman, and every glimpse he has had of a future beyond Robin has always been a dystopia. But more importantly, Tim has just lost his father, his stepmother, his mentor, his girlfriend, and his two best friends. He desperately needs to be able to lean on Dick, the grown-up he admires the most, and instead, Dick is kicking him out of the nest.

In other words: Dick is saying, with all the love and trust in his heart, "I need you to help me by being a fellow adult." And Tim is saying, with all the love and trust in his heart, "But I need you to be my adult." And they both get a no.

This is water under the bridge now, and they've healed even though they've never really talked it through because Bats don't do that (although what I wouldn't give for a Nightwing/Red Robin miniseries where they do everything but talk about it). But I do think Tim looks at the closeness and affection between Dick and Damian and feels some kind of way about it to this day, because it's so clear to everyone that Damian is Dick's favorite...but Tim remembers when he was Dick's favorite. And what Tim doesn't see is that Dick values him as a genuine partner in a way he will never quite achieve with Damian, because to him, Damian will always be his baby, even more so than he is Bruce's. (Dick is Bruce's baby, actually, not Damian. In this essay I will...)

(I could see a really interesting dynamic developing between Jason and Tim here, as the ones on the outside of that mutual appreciation society, but sadly the comics have never gone there. Alas.)

Finally, I think the relationship between Dick and Duke is very much "I just work here." Like, Dick is grown, he's out of the house, he's largely matured past the Bat-drama. He likes Duke but he doesn't feel the compulsion to brother him the way he did with Tim, and Duke doesn't need the mother henning Damian did.

IN CONCLUSION, and hooboy, sorry anon, most of this wasn't at all the question you asked:

Duke and Dick get along fine but aren't particularly close.

Damian is Dick's precious baby and always will be, even when Damian is an adult and annoyed by this treatment (but privately kind of loves it because he is a princess at heart).

Tim is Dick's buddy, his pal, his equal. If Dick were ever going to talk something through with a sibling, it would be Tim. (But that would require Dick admitting that everything isn't perfect or asking for help, so it'll never happen.)

Jason and Dick can't be in a room together for five minutes without fighting and Dick finds him wildly frustrating, but they will throw down for each other. When they aren't punching each other.

(And to answer the corollary: Damian's favorite brother is Dick. Tim's favorite brother is also Dick. Duke's favorite brother is Tim by default, since he doesn't know Dick very well and Jason and Damian are both too annoying, but really he's closest with Cass. Jason's favorite brother is Ace and he has communicated that often and loudly (but really it's probably also Dick).)

[deepspacenova]

Zayne teaching you & Caleb how to touch each other HCs

Zayne x Caleb (x Reader)

Inspired by the replies in this post about Zayne and Caleb being each others' firsts and how Zayne would revel in being the bridge between you and Caleb during sex.

I wrote some HCs for Zayne x Sylus a while back (incidentally, also influenced by @leighsartworks216 - aka the equally lovely and evil genius on my shoulder) so... let's call this a spin-off?

Caleb and Zayne become each other's firsts and it starts off very awkward, they're doing it for the sole reason of not botching up their chance with you but;

Unexpected side effect after a few times? They ended up mildly obsessed with each other (physically). "Practice" became more of an excuse than a reason yknow (Like, did they really need to 'practice' in an empty classroom at school for your sake??);

Needless to say, Caleb and Zayne knew exactly what made the other tick in bed by the time they parted ways;

You and Zayne have been together for a while, so of course you know what he likes, every sensitive spot, every sound he makes when you touch him in the right places;

Now that the three of you are together and you know about Zayne and Caleb's history, something hits you at an inconvenient moment: Zayne is behind you, panting into your throat, while Caleb’s chest brushes against yours, his eyes dark, breaths uneven;

Your fingers hover uncertainly over Caleb’s jaw when he leans in. You know how to touch a man, obviously, but with Caleb, it’s new, and it’s been so long, and you don’t know what to do yet, but… Zayne does, you realize;

Ever-attentive Zayne feels your hesitation, realizes what's going on, and immediately starts to put you at ease: tracing the tip of his nose down your neck, he shoots his gaze to Caleb and commands, “Lie back.”

Zayne starts with kissing, his voice soft in your ear. "He likes it when you bite. Not too hard- just enough to make him chase after it." When you test it, press your teeth and tongue against Caleb’s bottom lip and slowly suck it and tug, Caleb growls, gripping your hips;

As your proud smile brushes against Caleb's, Zayne's fingers ghost over your jaw. "Again. A little rougher." To which Caleb sighs, nearly whimpers into your mouth, hands gripping the back of your neck as he scrapes his top teeth against the inside of your lower lip;

The touching starts off slow as Zayne guides your fingers over Caleb’s abdominals. "Lower. Press just a little- yes, there." Caleb exhales sharply at the touch where his hip meets his inner thigh, eyelids lowering, muscles tightening.

Sometimes, if Caleb's done something to goad him or push his buttons, Zayne uses his evol, applying a flash of cold to Caleb's lips, neck, shoulder, hip, that you love to melt and soothe by dragging your tongue over them. Caleb's groans make the torture even more worth it;

More often though, Zayne slides his laced fingers with yours down Caleb's torso, directing your movements as every gentle command heats another inch of your skin, "Try- no, lighter. Mm. Now drag your nails until you get to his-" Caleb groans, hips lifting slightly;

"I think pip-squeak’s got it, Z,” but he can only gasp when Zayne leans down and kisses Caleb himself in response, slow and wet and deep;

You watch the movement of their lips, breath catching as one of Caleb’s hands tightens around your waist and his other fists Zayne’s hair. Zayne just hums, satisfied that he was right as he pulls away, kisses you, the flavor of Caleb still on his lips, and says, “Your turn.”

In fact, Zayne revels in knowing he’s the one in charge in this situation. The who bridges the gap between you both. The one who’s making it work. Caleb may be the one with the evol to literally control things, but here? Zayne was the one who pulled the three of you together;

He’s not afraid to boast about it in his subtle way either, like when Caleb's kissing you, Zayne watches intently for a few moments before pulling Caleb away by the nape of his neck, murmuring, "Not like that. Let me show you,” kissing you in a way that makes Caleb growl under his breath;

At the end of the day, though, Zayne takes the most pleasure in being the one to show Caleb how to touch you;

It's his win against Caleb, his trophy in their competition of "may the best man win you" because it's Zayne who's whispering in Caleb's ear, or guiding Caleb's hands all over the body of his obsession: you;

Neither of them says they’re competing of course, but it’s so obvious to you that they are when your ringing ears catch a smug “Pip-squeak came harder when I was down there” while Zayne licks his lips. To which Zayne grabs him by the root, eliciting a full-body shudder from Caleb when he murmurs, “Are you sure about that?”

Sometimes, Caleb retaliates by pressing one palm between your legs and the other into Zayne's throat. "Tell me something, Doctor. If I move my hand here, what sound will pip-squeak make?" Zayne's smile is small, and his voice is breathless when he shoots back, "You wish you knew like I did.";

That’s when Caleb is pushed to his limit. He's used to giving orders, not heeding them. And he's still full of raw power — I mean, he’s a high school jock turned military adult with the ability to control gravity — so when he finally has enough of Zayne’s teasing? Caleb pins him down with his evol, leaving Zayne gasping for breath;

What’s your favorite part of this? That comes a while later, when your hesitation is gone. When you’re reassured that Zayne and Caleb are in the palm of your hand. When you and Caleb find your rhythm and finally, finally team up against Zayne;

You and Caleb have every intention of teasing Zayne until he’s a pleading mess. Caleb's pinning him down with his evol as you hover over Zayne’s tip, just barely brushing over him before you straighten your thighs just out of reach. “Be good,” you taunt softly, bending forward to let your lips brush his;

You forget that Caleb’s behind you though, and that the sight of you in front of him and showering Zayne with so much attention could only lead to-

A sharp gasp is torn from your throat as Caleb uses his evol on you, forcing your body down down down with a, "You two were taking too long. Thought I’d help out.” Meanwhile, all you and Zayne can do is groan and pant, the breathless as he's forcefully stuffed into you;

The aftermath is the only time Zayne and Caleb set aside their competitive streak and become perfectly in sync;

Zayne focuses on the physical, on cleaning you up with a warm cloth, wiping you down with slow, careful strokes. Every pass of fabric is followed by a kiss on your thighs, stomach, shoulder, wherever marks were left. It's methodical and grounding, not just for you but for him.;

Caleb, on the other hand, focuses on the emotional, shushing your lingering cries. Stamping words of praise into your temple, your cheek, your eyelids. Each time you tremble or shudder he tucks your face into his neck, feeling his own lungs calm in tandem with yours when your lips brush his necklace;

When Zayne joins you both, he hooks your leg over his hips and rests his head in the crook of Caleb's elbow, nose pressed against your head, which rises and falls on Caleb's shoulder;

But their competition will come back again tomorrow, the teasing, the push and pull, the battle for control. And the need to see who could wreck you the best.

[ahopefulbromantic]

Okay I NEED to tell you all a story.

So dressing up is awesome that's why every party done by my friends and me has a dresscode. There was one friend whose parties were famous, she would invite a hundred people to her relatively small flat, there was always a huge cuddle pile on her tiny couch (high school was awesome), a hot makeshift dancefloor, very loud drunken and sober singing, everyone was there, and it was a fairly cultured party, too, no hard drugs, no s*x, no scandalous behavior.

The dresscode for this particular legendary birthday party was "fruits and vegetables play together on the street" (genius i know). You could come dressed as a fruit, a vegetable, or a road sign. There were some great ideas (for example a friend of mine was a green stop sign and called himself a "cognitive dissonance! cause look, you see something like this on the street and what do you do??? do you stop? or do you go??"), some very politically incorrect ideas (there was a guy who dressed up as a comatose patient and told us he was a vegetable, truly outrageous but also the most creative one out there), bananas, pickles, zebras (as in what you sometimes call a pedestrian crossing but literally the animal), lots of traffic lights, another friend of mine somehow got a real life traffic cone and wore it on her head dressed in a reflective vest, it was awesome.

Now for all the reasons i've listed before our host was famous not only amongst her peers. That's why this time we got complaints not from one, not from two, but from FOUR neighboring blocks for disturbing the mandatory quiet hours. This was the first (and only as for now) party in my life that the police kicked me out from. It was so cool!

This would normally mean that the party was over, right? Hehehe wrong. Of course many people went home after that but a big enough group, me included, decided on a meeting place nearby in order to continue the fun outdoors by the river, singing "Do you hear the people sing?" as we went. Before that, though, we had to get some food.

So now, imagine being an around-60-something shop assistant. Imagine it's nearly 11pm, just before you will need to close the store for tonight. In come several young people of varying ages, all dressed up as pickles, potatoes, fruit, traffic cones, road signs, etc. They all get very excited over your fruit and vegetables section, one guy lifting a bunch of bananas and tearfully saying, "look, it's my family!!!" Some of them probably are in the middle of a philosophical discussion. Some of them are singing either musical theatre numbers or Christian choral passion hymns. All in all they look like they have just escaped a mental asylum.

Needless to say, we got kicked out of the store, too

My friends and I used to do this thing where we'd dress up on a theme and go do something totally normal.

We dressed up as pirates and went bowling.

We dressed as vikings and went to the grocery store. The security guard told us we had to move our longship because it was illegally parked.

We dressed as Romans and went to Blockbuster. The staff chanted, "toga! Toga! Toga!" at us.

We dressed up all steampunk and went to the museum. Tourists kept taking our picture.

[cayleeuhithinknott]

❛ 𝑳𝑬𝑻 𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑰𝑪𝑲 𝑶𝑵 𝑼𝑹

𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑶𝑶𝑺 ❜

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉…you love matt’s tattoos, and it escalates to something more.

pairing: sweetheart!matt & shy!reader

cw: SMUT, oral (m receiving), pet names, tattoo licking? LMAO and probably more!

wc: 2.8k

you really need to get a grip.

or at the very least, stop staring.

but it’s impossible, because matt’s sitting next to you on the couch, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re dying inside, and his tattoo sleeve is just there.

he’s scrolling through his phone, one arm thrown over the back of the couch, his muscles shifting every time his fingers move. and it’s stupid, so so stupid, because you’ve seen his tattoos a million times before. you’ve traced them with your fingers, asked about their meanings, even watched him get some of them done.

but right now, you want to do something else entirely.

something that involves your mouth.

and that’s mortifying.

your face burns as the thought sinks in. it’s not like you to have thoughts this bold, this needy. but for some reason, today, your brain has decided to hyperfixate on the idea of pressing your lips to his skin.

biting it. licking it. marking it, like that would somehow make it yours.

your stomach tightens. you cross your arms, shifting uncomfortably. this is ridiculous. he’d never let you do something like that. it’s weird. you’re weird.

but the urge doesn’t go away. in fact, it gets worse, especially when he sighs and stretches, rolling his shoulders, his tattoos moving with him.

you swallow hard.

your gaze drifts along the inked-up skin, the way the designs flow together, the way the dark ink contrasts against his pale complexion. your fingers twitch.

you want to touch him.

you want to taste him.

matt glances over at you, and your heart plummets.

“baby?”

your spine stiffens. “yeah?”

his lips twitch, like he’s fighting a smile. “you okay?”

“yep,” you blurt out, nodding too fast. “totally fine. why?”

his head tilts. “because you’ve been staring at my arm for like…ten minutes.”

your face erupts in heat.

you shake your head frantically. “no, i haven’t.”

he raises an eyebrow. “so if i asked you what i just said a minute ago, you’d remember?”

you open your mouth. close it.

you didn’t even know he was talking to you before he’d finally grabbed your attention.

his smile grows. “that’s what i thought.”

your heart is racing. you need to get out of this conversation. fast. “it’s nothing,” you mumble, turning away. “just zoning out.”

but he’s not buying it. you can feel him staring at you, studying you, and then—because matt is matt—he shifts closer, resting his forearm on his thigh, putting his tattoos right in your line of sight.

your stomach flips.

he’s testing you.

you try to ignore it, but your eyes keep flickering back, betraying you. and then he does the worst thing possible—he flexes his fingers—fuck, his fingers—veins shifting under the ink, and you swear you feel your pulse in places you shouldn’t.

oh, you hate him.

you squeeze your thighs together, hands balling into fists in your lap. your mouth is so dry. other parts of you are not.

“sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice softer now. “what is it?”

you shake your head. “nothing.”

he doesn’t push, but he also doesn’t look away. he’s waiting. he knows.

and you know you shouldn’t say it. you know you should keep your mouth shut. but your brain-to-mouth filter decides to take the night off, and before you can stop yourself, you whisper, “can i…can i kiss them?”

silence.

your heart stops.

oh. oh no.

why would you say that?

you slap a hand over your mouth, mortified beyond belief, but matt doesn’t laugh. he doesn’t tease. he just blinks at you, like he’s processing the words.

your stomach drops. “forget i said anything,” you rush out, turning away, but before you can retreat, matt’s hand is on your chin, tilting your face back toward him.

your breath catches.

his gaze is steady, unreadable. “you wanna kiss my tattoos?”

your skin burns. “i-i didn’t mean—”

“you did,” he interrupts gently, watching you carefully. “and that’s okay.”

you can barely breathe. “it’s weird,” you mumble, embarrassed. “you probably think i’m weird.”

his thumb strokes your jaw. “i don’t.”

you hesitate. he seems…serious. and more than that, he seems open to it.

“really?” you whisper.

he nods. then, he lifts his arm slightly, offering it to you. “go ahead, baby.”

your heart pounds.

you hesitate for a moment longer, searching his face for any sign of amusement, but there’s none. he’s genuine.

so, cautiously, you reach out, fingers grazing over the ink. his skin is warm under your touch, the veins and muscles firm beneath it.

you swallow.

and then, slowly, you lean down and press a soft, tentative kiss to his forearm.

his breath hitches.

your stomach flips.

you do it again, lips lingering a little longer this time, and when you glance up at him, his jaw is tight, his eyes darker than before.

your confidence spikes.

you move up his arm, kissing along the intricate lines and shading, letting your lips drag. your hands slide up to his bicep, fingertips pressing lightly into the muscle as your mouth lingers on his skin.

when you let your tongue flick out, tracing over a particularly detailed part of the ink, you hear him suck in a sharp breath.

oh.

oh.

this is affecting him.

you bite back a smile, growing bolder. your teeth graze the skin, nipping lightly at the ink, and matt shudders.

his hand comes up to the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair. he’s not pushing—just holding. just feeling.

“fuck,” he exhales, voice strained. “keep going, baby.”

your stomach flutters.

you obey, mouth moving higher, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses along his shoulder. your tongue traces over the ink, warm and wet, and matt shivers.

your eyes flicker up. his lips are parted, his breathing slightly uneven, and his grip in your hair tightens when you bite down again, harder this time.

he lets out a low, shaky laugh. “jesus,” he mutters. “didn’t know you had this in you.”

you don’t answer. you just hum against his skin, sucking lightly at one of the designs.

and that’s when you feel it.

something pressing against your thigh.

your breath catches.

oh, shit.

matt stiffens slightly, realizing at the same time you do. “ignore that,” he mutters, shifting like he’s trying to move away. “not my fault you’re—”

“you’re hard,” you say, voice a little breathless.

he groans, tipping his head back. “don’t say it like that.”

you bite your lip. “but you are.”

he looks back down at you, exasperated. “yeah, no shit, baby.”

your stomach tightens. because suddenly, the wetness between your thighs is impossible to ignore, too.

your mouth is still against his shoulder. his grip is still firm in your hair. and you’re both sitting there, breathless and flushed, knowing exactly where this is leading.

he exhales slowly, voice low. “c’mon,” he murmurs, tugging you closer. “we’re going to my room.”

your pulse races.

yeah. you definitely need to get a grip.

matt’s sat on the edge of the bed with you on your knees in front of him. things had escalated. you were only in your bra and shorts, matt being fully naked.

you’ve got one hand cupped under his balls and the other hand lazily stroking his length. matt’s got his fingers gently threaded in your hair, gazing down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. because to him, you are.

you press feather-light kisses up and down his cock, occasionally deliberately dragging your tongue over the more pronounced veins. you were a little nervous. you’d given him head tons of times, so you weren’t quite sure what was different this time.

your movements slow even more, hesitation creeping in as your lips hover over his tip, unsure. your hand stills at the base of his cock. the heat of his gaze burns into you, and when you finally gather the courage to look up at him, it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.

his eyes are heavy-lidded, dark and unreadable, but there’s something there—something that makes your stomach twist and your pulse stutter. is he…waiting? does he want you to keep going? or worse—was that bad? oh god, what if you—

“hey,” his voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts, gentle but firm. his fingers unweave themselves from your hair to trace lightly over your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin in a way that makes you shiver. “you’re doing so good, sweetheart.” the way he says it is so easy, like there isn’t a doubt in his mind. like you aren’t sitting here second-guessing every little thing.

you swallow hard, your breath shaky, and he must notice because he tilts his head, eyes softening. “you can keep going,” he murmurs, his voice low, warm. “take your time. i promise, you’re perfect.”

oh. yeah, that definitely does something to you. your fingers twitch where they rest, your skin buzzing under the weight of his approval. something about the way he’s looking at you—patient, expectant, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips—sends heat crawling down your spine.

so you inhale slowly, steady yourself, and do exactly what he says.

you give him a couple more slow strokes before wrapping your plush lips around the head of his cock. as his breath hitches, you feel a familiar heat pooling in your core. but, this isn’t about you, right now. you want to make him feel good.

you start to take his cock deeper into your mouth, and matt’s hand immediately finds it’s way back to your hair. you force your head down a little further, choking slightly. “you’re okay, sweetheart. doin’ great.” matt mutters softly, and you can feel his gaze on you.

you transfer your gaze to look up at him as you start to move your head up and down. he throws his head back as you use your hand to pump the length you can’t fully fit, eliciting pleasured groans to fall from his pink lips.

when he looks down at you again, your eyes meet, and he almost cums on the spot just from fucking looking at you. he’s down bad.

you grip his cock a little tighter in your hand, moving your head a little faster as well. the feeling of your warm, wet throat constricting him is pure ecstasy for him. “shit, baby, you’re so good…” he groans, squeezing your hair a little but loosening his grip when he realizes what he’s doing.

tears drip down your cheeks as drool seeps out from the corners of your lips—now you were starting to struggle. you let out a soft whine, and matt looks down at you, taking the hint that you need help. he starts to move your head down until his entire cock is in your mouth and your nose is pressed to his lower tummy.

you gag slightly and he pulls you almost all the way off before pushing you back down again. he thrusts into your mouth slowly, not wanting to hurt you in any way. “can i go a little faster, sweetness?” matt asks breathlessly. you hum around his cock, which is a green-light for matt.

he starts to fuck into you a little quicker now, his tip hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. each little choke and gag of yours drew him closer to his release, and every one of his moans and groans powered you to hold it together.

“take it all, sweetheart, i know you can…fuck,” he tosses his head back. you start to incorporate your tongue more, to which he releases a sound that almost sounds like a whimper. fuck. “you’re—ngh—shit, baby, you’re so good..”

matt lets out a shaky exhale, a soft whine slipping out as he fucks your face even faster. your chin and chest were covered in drool, but you didn’t even care. he bucks his hips up particularly hard, eliciting a loud choked sound from you. “shit—sorry, sweetness, you just make me feel so fuckin’ good..”

matt notices how you’re starting to gag and choke more and more, and he knows you probably need some reassurance. “you’re good, sweet girl, just breathe through your nose. not much longer, baby, i’m so close.”

you hum around him again, the vibrations sending a shiver up his spine and into the back of his throat, where a groan comes out. tears streak down your face, and you’re sure your mascara’s got you looking like a damn raccoon. but, did you care? absolutely the hell not.

his hips start to stutter, and his breathing gets more ragged—that’s how you know he’s so close. you use your free hand to massage his balls and he whimpers. full on whimpers. holy shit. no way. no way that just came out of his mouth.

holy shit. your brain just short-circuited. completely malfunctioned. you didn’t know he could sound like that. but now that you do, you need to hear it again.

okay, stay calm. be normal. act like you didn’t just melt into a puddle. if you die right now, at least you’ll die knowing that noise exists.

god, that was so hot. wait, do you signal that to him? no. no, you keep that to yourself. you should not be this affected. but here you are. completely affected.

he sounds so pretty…is it bad that you want to keep making him sound like that? okay, now you have two missions. make him do that again. immediately. oh, and make him cum.

“fuckkk baby, i’m about to—shit—cum..” he groans, squeezing your hair in his hands even harder. you let out a soft, bashful moan around his cock, egging him on. he pushes himself down your throat one more powerful time before he pulls out. you stick out your tongue and his warm, white spurts of cum cover your lower face, some of it getting on your chest and some actually making it onto your tongue. and that’s when you catch it. another fucking whimper.

matt gawks at the sight of you. he uses his thumb to swipe the remainders into your mouth, not bothering to clean up the bits on your chest just yet.

your chest rises and falls, trying to catch your breath as you shift slightly, still kneeling between matt’s legs. your lips feel swollen, your face warm, and your heart is thumping so hard you’re sure he can hear it.

matt looks absolutely wrecked—head tilted back, eyes half-lidded, lips parted as he tries to process what just happened. but when he blinks down at you, his expression softens instantly.

“c’mere, baby,” he murmurs, reaching down to guide you up and onto his lap. his hands are so gentle, warm against your skin as he cradles your face and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. “you did so good. so, so good for me.”

your stomach twists at his words, a mix of pride and bashfulness settling in. you tuck your face into his neck, feeling his chest vibrate with a soft chuckle. “stop,” you mumble, voice small.

“what? i mean it,” he hums, rubbing slow circles on your back. “so perfect. felt so good, sweet girl.”

you don’t respond, just nuzzle further into him, feeling warm and safe in his arms. but then matt’s shifting, pressing another kiss to the top of your head before standing up with you still clinging to him.

“let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” he says, carrying you towards the bathroom. you let out a small sound of protest, but he only grins, setting you down carefully before reaching to turn on the shower.

you’re shy, hesitating as you stand in front of him, but he just cups your face, tilting it up so you meet his gaze.

“you okay?” he asks softly.

you nod. “yeah. just…still kinda nervous.”

you weren’t sure as to why you were nervous. you just sucked him off for goodness sake. your brain works in odd ways, that’s for sure.

his lips twitch into a knowing smile before he leans in, kissing you sweetly. “nothing to be nervous about, sweets. just wanna take care of you.”

he steps into the shower first, holding a hand out for you to follow. the warm water cascades down as you step under the spray, sighing at the soothing sensation. matt keeps his touch light—running his hands over your arms, your shoulders, smoothing your hair back with such careful tenderness that your heart clenches.

he washes you with so much care, fingers massaging shampoo into your scalp, then gently rinsing it out. “feel okay?” he asks, and you nod, leaning into his touch.

“you’re so sweet,” you murmur, voice barely above the sound of the water.

matt tilts his head, smiling. “because you deserve it.”

your throat tightens, but before you can respond, he’s pressing a kiss to your shoulder, whispering against your skin, “so proud of you, pretty girl. you’re everything to me.”

you close your eyes, letting yourself melt into his touch, into his words, into him.

“guess my tattoos aren’t the only thing you’ve got a taste for now, hm?”

a/n: omg i’ve wanted to write this for so long. i loooove matt’s tattoos and i love this song so i had to!!! thanks to @hearts4werka for supporting my idea and @strnilolover for proofreading 😌

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @alexturnersgooch @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222 @aubsloveschris @slctsblogana @emely9274 @oliviasthatgirl @conspiracy-ash @matthewsroses @pasteldreams @matts-wife

[hanniescookie]

is it that hard? - jww

pairing - wonwoo x f! reader

genre - fluff, idol au

warnings - none

summary - you know wonwoo likes you, but for some reason, he doesn't say it. not until you're frustrated enough to play a game on him.

author's note - kekekeke @wonkierideul // this is for you my mochi cheek-ed baby!! i hope you like it 😭 i tried, okay? i just hope it makes you smile at least, you're so dear to me my oomf (pls remind me again what it means) may you fulfill your MUA dream one day and may you get to doll wonu up 🤍 love you sm :)

-------------------------**~~**--------------------------

Being a successful makeup artist had been your dream since you were a teenager. Your love for makeup only grew with your age, and you made yourself proud after finally landing your dream job.

Being Jeon Wonwoo's makeup artist, however, was certainly not your dream. It might be a privilege, never been a dream.

It isn't that you mind seeing his beautiful face every other day while you doll it up with makeup that suits his outfit of the day. Never that. It's just that you're always too distracted to focus on your job. And Wonwoo doesn't help.

It falls out of your realm of professionalism. You've never been someone who struggles with balancing your personal and professional life, but with this man? You're terrible. Miserable.

He is too good looking for his own good, and being so close to his face half the time serves you no good. It takes everything in you to not just kiss his lips everytime you swipe some lipstick across them.

Wonwoo is not very expressive — that's a known fact. But what people might not know is that Wonwoo is a tease, a little close to a flirt. At least towards you, he is.

You hate how he licks his lips right after you're done applying lipstick just to make your job harder. What's worse is that he does it with a straight face, muttering an aplogy within a second like he didn't realize what he just did.

But you have seen it far too much to know that he does these things deliberately. You don't know if he likes seeing the huff of annoyance you let out, or if he just genuinely hates you.

Either way, you've decided that your work ethics have been compromised enough. You don't like these feelings you've harbored for the idol overtime, and if nothing is down the drain, you'll take your shot today.

When Wonwoo arrives on set an hour before his schedule, you're glad that the whole group isn't here. It's his solo schedule for the day — a photoshoot for his brand deal.

The look for today has to be a little bold, and requires more time than usual. So you start slow, focused on work and trying your best to make him look exactly like the concept demands.

And you're also focused on another task today.

"I'm quitting." You say as nonchalantly as you can, dabbing some concealer to hide a tiny acne mark on his skin.

"Huh?" He raises his brows, unsure if you talked to him.

You meet his eyes for a few seconds before focusing back on his cheek, watching the acne mark slowly disappear. You hope your game plan can work, and if it doesn't, then you're really never seeing this place again. "I said I'm quitting this job."

He continues to look at your face while you turn back to the vanity, fumbling through some eyeshadow palettes. Your heart is throbbing at the weight of his gaze, but you keep going. "I'm telling you because I know you don't get used to changes easily. You'll be more prepared when you see another MUA starting tomorrow."

You turn back, meeting his surprised gaze and you smile a little. "Close your eyes."

He takes a little while to process what you said, and you gladly wait till he does. You can see the effect of your game, and you like it so far.

He closes his eyes slowly, exhaling through his nose. It's quiet for a while till you play with a combination of two dark shades on his eyelids.

"Must you leave?"

You almost don't catch it with how quietly he speaks. Keeping the palette away, you stare at his face with his eyes closed, his question echoing in your head. Your heart swells, and a smile forms on your face. "Did you say something?"

He mutters a quiet no without opening his eyes. You know he's doing it because you haven't asked him to open them yet, and involuntarily, you feel a flutter in your chest. Usually, he would open them before you're even done, but right now he's trying to not upset you. How cute.

"I heard you, though." You say again, leaning against the vanity with your arms folded. He slowly opens his eyes, looking at you with eyes full of uncertainty. "Do you have an answer then?"

"Must I leave?" You echo his question, humming thoughtfully. "Good question. The problem is—" you pause, grabbing an eyepencil and leaning down on him. He instinctively closes his eyes, and you smile. "—that my professionalism is threatened here. I can't properly focus on my work with you, Wonwoo."

His eyes snap open before you're even done lining the pencil on his eyelid, earning a sharp wince from you. "See! This is what I mean."

"Sorry," he breathes. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"

"I don't know," you say, folding your arms neatly once again. "You tell me."

He stares at you blankly for a while, unable to pinpoint exactly where you're coming from. Then his expression shifts, as if he's reminded of something. "Scratch that. Just don't quit?"

You arch an eyebrow despite the little victory dance your insides do at his statement. "Hm? Why?"

"Because—" he pauses, trying to find words. "Because like you said, I'm not good with accepting changes. I am used to you."

You sigh, shaking your head. "Is it that hard?"

"What?"

"Saying the truth."

"What truth?"

"That you like me."

Suddenly, there's pin drop silence in the makeup room. Even the humming of the aircon feels distant, as if coming from a faraway land. All you can hear is your own pulse beating wildly in your ears.

Then with calculated certainty, Wonwoo speaks. "It is."

You feel your throat running dry, and though you know you orchestrated this little game, you have no idea why you're nervous. Do you like him that much?

"But if I say it Y/N, will you stay?"

You can't help but smile. He's cute, and you'll do anything to make him happy. You nod. "I will."

He inhales a mouthful of air, and deeply exhales it all. Licking his dry lips, he looks up in your eyes, taking your hand in his large one hesitantly.

"I like you." He says, as quiet as the room. "I've liked you since the day you first put an insane amount of blush on my cheeks and I complained about looking cute. Please don't quit on me."

You've known that Wonwoo likes you, but nothing could've prepared you for the way he admits it in his low voice while holding your hand gently. You feel your pulse quickening even more if it's possible, and a blush dusts your cheeks.

"You did look cute, though."

"I didn't want to!" He groans, and you end up giggling. He sighs then, smiling along with you nevertheless. "Is that what you say to my confession?"

You shrug, grabbing a lipstick and turning to him. "If you don't mess your lipstick up this time, I'll think about going on a date with you."

He smiles, fingers hooking in yours to tug you closer. You lean closer to him as a result, eyes widening slightly. "Whatever happened to professionalism now?"

"I can compromise a little if I get a boyfriend as handsome as Jeon Wonwoo." You answer, poking his forehead so his head rests back before you begin applying lipstick on his lips.

He does mess his lipstick after your first attempt, and it leads to you kissing him, but you go on a date with him on the weekend anyway.

[artemisiasmuse]

always known | CH.6

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem! kook reader

CW: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, multiple rounds, no protection don’t be like them, angst, mean rafe, jealousy, possessive rafe, kook typical classism (not from y/n tho), abusive family dynamics, not really canon/au, swearing, drinking, no coke tho, ward cameron

SUMMARY: rafe’s childhood best friend y/n returns to figure eight by herself and finds rafe hates her for some reason, their friendship has gone down the drain and they can hardly remain cordial, and there’s one thing causing all of it: why can’t rafe just move on?

TROPE: childhood best friends to enemies to lovers

WORD COUNT: 5k (this one is just purely smut)

MASTERLIST

< previous

being more than friends with rafe while at tannyhill proves extremely difficult. you’re both not great at hiding it and ward very pointedly says that you’re not allowed to visit each other’s rooms. so naturally you have to get creative, rafe “drops you” to school most days, you “hang out” at the country club. being that you had two decades of pent-up frustration to make up for you capitalize on any private moment. and really even though he’s put you in this situation you’re thankful ward has tinted windows on all his cars even if you thought it was shady before. 

the first time rafe dropped you to school he had his hand on your thigh, squeezing and rubbing at the plush of it. warm palm easily encompassing it and large fingers absentmindedly caressing. he’d done it without much thought, you’d been holding hands and his hand just rested against your thigh so easily. its such a simple thing but your entire world flips on its axis. you’re thrown head first into your desire before you even know it. you had worn jeans that day but even still you swore your skin had lit on fire. there was absolutely no hope for attending class when he pulled into the parking lot to reach into the backseat for his rain jacket before handing it to you. you hadn’t even processed the words, “it’s gonna rain later,” before you leaned over the console and kissed him. rafe made a small noise of surprise, a hum from the back of his throat, that sounded so deep and sweet you couldn’t help but want more. his hand went to the back of your neck, pulling you into him. the angle was too awkward for how close you wanted to be. you’d already done the estimation in your head before when he parked, there was enough space. rafe made that noise that you were getting addicted to as you straddled his lap and sat down. the weight of you on his lap was nothing short of euphoric, his hands instantly roaming your hips pulling you closer by your ass, this time it was your turn to be surprised. you’d been a bit worried you were too heavy for him but the way rafe’s lips were curling into a smile assuage any doubts. his thighs are so muscular under your own and you wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin. your hands found his face and angled it down towards you, smiling at how pliant he was in your hold. rafe was sure he’d get hard if you moved even an inch and as much as he wanted nothing more than to move this to the backseat he still had enough rationality to know your first time shouldn’t be in a car.

your lips are on his before he can think too hard, his hands massage the fat of your ass, pulling you as close as possible. you’re right over his bulge and if you keep it up it’ll be impossible for either of you to ignore. but there’s no way you’re stopping not when even coffee breath is sexy to you. you’re biting at his lips hungry and rafe can’t help but give in, swirling his tongue with yours. the press of your tits against his chest isn’t helping his increasingly hard situation. he has to stop this before he loses his mind.

“don’t you have class?” he says it between kisses, you’re relentless. 

“don’t care, i’ll make the next one.” you pepper his face with kisses. rafe shudders as you flick his ear, kissing him sweetly. you can feel him hard between your legs, thick and solid and definitely bigger than anyone you’ve had before. you know it’s mean but it feels like payback for how turned on you’d been the whole car ride. although it would’ve felt great youre begrudgingly glad you didn’t wear a skirt, how embarrassing it would’ve been if he could feel how wet you were. 

“fuck can’t have our first in a car,” he mumbles and you shift your hips infinitesimally, he holds them still, giving you a look of warning. it only makes you want to act out more. 

“i don’t mind,” you look him dead in the eyes as you say it and rafe might just come in his pants from that alone. how would he survive you? 

“don’t say that shit baby,” he throws his head back against the car seat, his voice rough like it physically hurts him to hold back. and it does, he’s never been so hard from so little. your body hums at the pet name, you want to listen to him because of it, you’re like putty in his hands even if you’re the one who initiated this.

“okay okay we won’t,” you don’t make any move to move off him though, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“okay just-you know what let me close my eyes,” he’s trying to will his boner away, in fact he’s trying to not come in his pants from any slight movements from you. something about him being in so much agony because of you isn’t really making you want to stop. you press kisses to his jawline and neck, to his pulse point. his cologne mixes with his body heat and you want to shove your nose into the column of his neck.

“rafe you smell really good.” you’re practically purring it into his ear, pressing a kiss to the skin. 

“oh god shut the fuck up.” there’s no hope, he’ll just have to be blue balled for the rest of the day. his eyes snap open as he pulls you back by the back of your neck and you grin victoriously into the kiss. 

and then there’s the country club. thank god for those extra changing rooms otherwise you would have traumatized a lot of parents. you snuck away from topper and kelce to fool around and rafe had you shoved against a wall, out of sight from everyone, hands roaming as you did the same. it was a shame you couldn’t get his shirt off because you really couldn’t stand seeing the outline of his pecs and biceps through fabric. rafe pulled back for air, huffing into your shoulder as you did the same into his chest. he was curled around you, if anyone saw you two they wouldn’t even be able to see you. his thigh was wedged between yours, dangerously close to making contact with your core. if he did you couldn’t trust yourself to grind against him. it was safe to say the restrictions around you weren’t helping your infinitely growing desire. 

it feels like it’s been ten years-it’s been four days-when you finally get the call that your place is fully repaired. rafe was out with ward when you heard so you hightailed it back home, taking as much as you could from tannyhill in your rush. you and rafe had made dinner plans and he agreed to bring whatever you had at tannyhill over when he picked you anyways. being home was nice even if it felt a little empty without rafe or the cameron’s. you hoped now that you weren’t under ward’s watchful eye rafe could stay over more. you were missing a couch and some other fabric chairs after the flooding but your rooms upstairs were untouched. you clean up and air out your space, lighting some candles. the smell of wood and repairs eventually fades and it feels normal again. you even bake some cookies so your kitchen doesn’t feel so barren. by the time it’s evening you’re rushing to get ready. you knew what you were gonna wear, you had it all planned out as soon as rafe asked you out. a baby blue satin slip dress that cinched at the waist and was low cut enough to show off your curves. you looked and felt damn good in it. you put your hair up and did your makeup to withstand whatever the night brought on. you spray on rafe’s favorite perfume and are putting on your pearl earrings when the doorbell rings. you answer it with one hand and do an obvious once-over of your man. rafe looks perfect, as usual, white dress shirt with slacks and a bouquet of flowers that look fake from how pretty they are. 

“hey handsome.” rafe cannot believe he got so lucky. he knows you’re beautiful, you’re always beautiful, but the sight of you so dolled up just for him has his head spinning. he enters your space, but he doesn’t even notice anything around him because all he can see is you. you finish putting on your earring and hug him. 

“hey you look amazing” his hands find home in the curve of your waist, pulling you closer. 

“thanks, i just need to grab my purse-“ you’re about to move to leave but rafe makes a noise that is somewhere between a grumble and a whine. you don’t move, instead looping your hands around his neck and letting him relax into your arms. he noses along your neck, you smell good enough to eat.

“how hungry are you?” he murmurs it into your neck, kissing the spot under your ear. 

“not that hungry, by the time we get the food and everything i think i will be though,” you replied thoughtfully, he 

“im fucking starving.” he presses a kiss to your neck, the skin is so soft and unmarked and it’s irresistible. his whole body refuses to let go of you, it's like the air around you is thicker, he can’t seem to move away. he’d dreamed about how you taste and he knows your lips and your breath but he wants more. he wants to taste more. 

“i can make you something real quick.” you’re still not catching on to how you have affected him with one look alone.

“nah not for that.” a nip of teeth along your jugular make you suddenly all aware. 

“oh-we could always move the reservation,” you’re so cute, rafe thinks, always so eager to please and he can’t help but wonder how much it extends. 

“or order in.” his nips turn into bites, kissing over them and you crane your neck for him to have better access. your legs are starting to feel weak from how intentional he’s being with every touch and word. they’re all coalescing into a fire in your core, you’re not wearing underwear so you’re really testing the limits. 

“or order hah i-in.” he doesn’t think he can handle another second without having you, it’s been hard to hold back the past week and it’s impossible now that he knows there’s no real obstacle. you can scream his name and no one can stop you and the thought makes him clutch you a bit tighter. 

“where’s your room baby?” he pulls back to look at you and you blink at him slowly before intertwining the fingers around your waist with your own and leading him up stairs. he follows your lead, enjoying the view of you going up in front of him. you hadn’t given him a choice when you put on this dress he realized. 

your room is far cozier and colorful than his, trinkets and memories on every wall and he sees himself in a few pictures and keepsakes. there’s no hiding your personality and he loves it automatically. he remembered your childhood bedroom was so devoid of anything you actually liked because your parents didn’t like it. you watch rafe take it all in, he looks so much bigger in the space than you feel but he somehow still fits in. you’d been itching to tell him about your room and have him in your space and there’s one thing still bothering you.

“i got a place with a guest bedroom cause of you.” it blurts out and you regret it as soon as you say it. rafe’s head snaps towards you in shock.

“what?” you may have completely ruined the mood. you hurry to explain. 

“i know it’s kind of stupid, i didn’t even know if you cared about me back then but still i don’t know i just always thought we’d-“ rafe thinks he might start crying. you tend to make him feel like that, emotional. maybe it’s because he’s never cared about anyone like he’s cared about you. the jarring realization that you care about him just as much for just as much time has his heart soaring out of his chest and he can’t hold back any more. the words will rip their way out of him anyways.

“i love you.” his voice comes out low like a whisper, like a promise. your mind blanks for a split second before it all snaps into place. it’s as natural as breathing when you open your mouth.

“i love you rafe.” rafe crosses the space to kiss you, sweet and gentle and it solidifies any room for doubt in either of you. the kiss naturally progresses into something needier and rafe’s hand slips down your face to your neck before slipping a strap of your dress down your shoulder. you gasp into his mouth before pulling back and unbuttoning his shirt. you had to even the playing field. 

rafe is trying not pass out from the sight of you desperately undressing him and pushes you back by your hips until you fall back on the bed. he takes over the rest throwing his shirt to the side. your eyes hungrily roam his chest, the low light of your lamp is enough to solidify that rafe is way too hot to wear a shirt ever again. you sit up to slide your hands along the divers of his abs, tracing the lines before smoothing over his pecs and pulling him down towards you by his neck. rafe shudders at your touch, wedging himself between your legs. your dress is nearly off you with one more touch of his hands and you pull back. he’s being far too hesitant.

“you don't think…” your eyes narrow in a silent question, one that he picks up easily.

“i dont know.” and you nod your head, that explains it.

“i’m not, are you?” you can’t gauge if he’s disappointed or not. 

“nah and i don’t care by the way, i might not be your first but i'm definitely gonna be your last,” your head spins at the statement. he pushes the skirt of your dress up, you panic a bit because you’re completely bare under it, he feels you stiffen and stops. 

“i’m just a bit scared.” you whisper it into the air and maybe scared wasn’t the right word but you’re suddenly very aware of every inch of your skin and how rafe looks like an angel sent from the heavens.

“we don’t have to-“

“no i want to i just-you probably have super high expectations.” rafe’s eyes narrow at your words, he can’t believe that you’re simultaneously the smartest and dumbest person he knows.

“i love you every part of you, you could never disappoint me by being you.” rafe doesn’t want to pressure you into anything but he needs you to know that.

“okay.” you unzip the side of your dress, making it easier for him to pull off and he kisses your forehead. your eyelashes fluttering from the sweet affection.

“that being said, i might come just from seeing you naked.” and there’s goes that cute moment.

“real fucking romantic.” you shove against his shoulder and he laughs, you silently thank him for loosening you up.

“what can i say my girl’s really fucking hot.” your stomach flutters at his words and the dopey grin he’s wearing. you need him so badly you don’t care about your insecurities any more. 

“as long as you can get it up again we won’t have a problem champ.” you tease him back after a moment of ingesting his words. 

“yes ma’am.” everything he says is getting you hot and bothered and finally he takes off your dress. his eyes don’t even know where to look because every part of you is perfect. your stretch marks, your tummy, your breasts, oh and oh god rafe was joking but now he might actually come. your pussy is bare and although he can’t see it properly it’s so cute. his heart is already racing so fast and it’s somehow picking up speed. his head feels a bit faint as all his blood rushes south—“fuck i think i might die.” he whispers it so seriously you can’t help but laugh, he hasn’t looked you in the eyes since you took your dress off and the way he looks like a man starved has you squirming under him.

“shut up-“ you don’t know if you can handle him staring without so much as blinking much less touching you.

“no you’re-what the fuck.” it’s all he says before kisses you and loops your legs around his waist. you feel his bulge against your bare cunt and if he wasn’t wearing black you knew you’d see a remnant of you there. in fact if he doesn’t do something you’re gonna start dripping onto your sheets.

“rafe-need you” your words come out broken as he barely lets you pull away for air. kissing and grinding aren’t cutting it any more and the heavy thick weight of him between your legs is nearly torture. the words are like a zap of electricity to his brain and he unbuckles his pants and has them off in seconds, only in his boxers now. the way you whined his name is replaying over and over in his head and he just can’t get enough. he’s back in his spot and trailing kisses down your neck and then your breasts. one of his hands pinches a nipple while the other dips between your legs. you buck into him from the sudden stimulation—lips attach to your nipple sucking and biting at it, his teeth grazing along the sensitive skin. he’s sloppy with it, drooling all over you with zero worry for the marks he’s leaving. his hand between your legs teases the soft skin of your inner thighs, never quite where you need him. the presence feels like the lump in your throat, unyielding and attention-seeking. you whine his name again and he actually thinks you might have found a way to mind control him. his thick fingers ghost your folds, finding them absolutely drooling. they’re so puffy and messy he almost coos at how desperate you must feel.

“you’re so wet, baby.” his mouth is back on your neck, groaning the words into your ear. his tone is gravelly and rough, still sweetened by his love for you and you writhe for him to touch you properly. he actually laughs-the fucker-at your response before his ringed index finger presses into your opening. you’re nearly dripping into the palm of his hand and when the cold metal of his ring catches on your entrance you huff out in shock.

his finger is so much larger than yours and it’s starting to scratch the itch you feel but it’s not enough and rafe knows it, he adds his middle finger and this time it’s a stretch—your poor pussy is hugging him so tightly he thinks you’ve never been fucked properly before, his fingers curl into you and feel around for the fleshy spot he knows will make you cry. he knows he’s found it when you clench around him, gooey walls closing in on his fingers. “that’s it, sweet girl” and while rafe knows he should stretch you out more he can’t help himself. he’s been hungry, starving, for days, for years. your eyelashes flutter open as his fingers are pulled out, he wants to lick them clean but why not try straight from the source. you don’t even register what’s happening before rafe is putting the backs of your thighs against his shoulders and squeezing between the plush of them. 

“oh!” it hits you when his tongue swipes up the length of your pussy. rafe moans at the taste, heady and sweet, it’s so good he thinks if he wasn’t in love now your juices might be a love potion. one taste is enough for him to pull your thighs down, shoving himself into your cunt and you moan at the force. his tongue is everywhere, swirling between the mess you’ve made on your legs and your folds, flicking against your clit and delving into you teasingly. he presses a finger into you as he sucks on your clit, biting at it and sending your mind into black and white for a second. then he’s delving into you and pulling anything he can out of you, finger hammering into you and his tongue swirling instead slowly in a mind-numbing contrast.

“so sweet,” you hear him moan into you, his dreams didn’t hold a candle to your actual taste. you’re bucking and writhing into his mouth but his hold on you is firm, he doesn’t care if your thighs squish his head either because he’s too drunk off you to care. you can feel yourself getting close as he curls his finger inside against your g-spot your poor pussy quivering at the action and before you can hold back any more your hold snaps, you’re cumming into his mouth before you can help it crying out his name like a plea. it’s violent and overwhelming and your hips are bucking into violently but rafe needs to drink you up, he needs to taste you when you come. the way you milk his tongue has him desperate to feel you around him. you sound so wrecked saying his name and he wants to pull it out of you again, wants to look you in the eyes when you say it. when he’s sure you can’t give him any more he releases his hold on you and pulls away. the lower half of his face is glistening and you’re almost ashamed but you can’t help but admire how depraved the sight is. you want to thank whoever made him so good at eating pussy because you’re never letting him go now. rafe looks positively fucked out and you can’t imagine you’re any better. you tug him in for a kiss tasting yourself on his lips. you still feel desperate for more, you need his cock and you don’t care if you have to beg. 

“rafe if you don’t fuck me so help me-”

“relax princess, i told you i was hungry.” he says it without any shame and you actually can’t hold his eye contact. you’d only ever imagined him talking to you like this and the reality is so much harder to handle. he pulls his boxers off and then intertwines a hand with yours, pressing it next to your head. you can’t help yourself when you look down, being met with what is undoubtedly the biggest dick you’d ever seen. it’s unfair how pretty it is. long and thick with a vein running down the middle and cropped brown hair at the base. there’s white precum dribbling out of the mushroom head and you’re equally intimidated and turned on. you let out a shaky exhale and the monster cock twitches at your attention, “fuck don’t stare like that-“ rafe groans at the way your eyes widened at the sight of him. you’re not even trying to hide your reactions. despite how you feel you, you’re childishly putting on a brave front.

“why not? it’s mine isn’t it?” yeah rafe is gonna die. he just groans again before shoving your legs up and out until they’re framing his hips. it is yours of course it’s yours, he’d let you do anything you want to him. your bravado is once again swept away when his tip is gliding against your entrance, far wider than anything you’d ever expect. you’re not even sure if it’ll fit. you nod at him to move and he pushes into you, a gasp leaving your lips. the stretch burns and it’s unlike any pain you’ve had before. this is tinged by pleasure and you try to relax but you’re still a bit worried about all the inches and girth past the tip.

“so tight i-“ rafe is addicted sure he’s always been in love and it’s always been a bit too intense for anyone to understand but the way you feel around him, warm and snug, has him going fully insane. no way he’s letting you go.

“t-too big.” you shudder under him, rafe can’t look down because if he sees it he knows he won’t be able to survive it. in fact he’s so close that if he doesn’t focus his absolute best he might just come.

“can’t talk like that i’m actually gonna-“ and he does in fact come. he comes just from putting the tip in. thick gooey ropes pump into you and the added lubrication makes it easier for him to slip in a bit, the urge to plug you full is impossible to ignore. there’s something pathetic about him coming just from this and it’s so inexplicably sweet that you’re moaning his name. “don’t say anything.” rafe is trying to damage control. you can feel him still hard inside you and his come is already slipping out of you, what a shame you think.

“come on big boy who said anything about stopping.” the nickname makes his dick twitch inside you and a sick smirk curls his lips. you’re just as far gone as him. he eases into you and the stretch is unimaginable. you’re unbelieving that anyone can even reach that far, you feel like you’re being molded to him, even the vein along his length is a dent inside you. when you think he’s done, you can feel him in the back of your throat and he’s nestled against your cervix, you realize he hasn’t even bottomed out. “it doesn’t fit.” you sound as heartbroken as rafe feels. he pulls out and pushes back in experimentally, still being stopped at the same spot. the thrust is enough for you to see stars, the feeling of being eased in replaced by the full hammering thickness and length of him at once. 

“pussy’s too small for me—fuckkk that’s okay i’ll make it fit hmm?” rafe is mindlessly murmuring to himself, he pulls your hips up, wedging a pillow under them for a different angle, this time he gets further and finally his balls press against you. you’re shaking from the stretch and he has to clench his jaw to not move again. when you’re not clenching down like a vice he finally moves again, slowly easing in and out, halfway down his length. he refuses to pull out all the way, he thinks he’ll have an aneurysm if he isn’t inside you all the time. “so perfect s’like you’re made for me, fuck i love you so much.” it’s much more manageable and the slow drag of him inside you has you getting worked up again. rafe is close too but he has been for a while—actually right after coming.

you pull him down for a kiss, the angle of him leaning down presses him further into you and you gasp into his mouth. “i love you rafey, you feel so good.” he’s pressing against your most sensitive spot and rafe thinks this might be his favorite position, kissing you and fucking you deep and slow. he can feel your heartbeat against his and your hair that was up before started to slip out more and more he curls a strand around his finger. when it becomes too much you’re panting into each other’s mouths, desperate to catch you breath but not enough to stop. you’re drenching him in your sweet juices and they mix with his come to form a circle at the base of him.

“come on baby, pretty girl, you’re doing so well.”  a few more torturous drags of his tip against your g-spot has your walls fluttering and clenching on him, he comes inside again and you can’t believe he’s still hard. you’re not tired though yet and you start to think rafe might actually go all night. you shove against his shoulder and he pulls out but then you shove again and get him onto his back. his eyes go wide as he realizes what you’re doing, you straddle him and wince a bit as his come spurts out of you. your clit bumps against his toned stomach and the sick mess of your juices paints his skin white. rafe watches it happen, it’s undeniably obscene but he’s gonna think about it for the rest of his life. he props a pillow under him as you move down until his length is nudging against your hole. being on top has its perks but the sensation of him filling you is even more overwhelming that before.

“fuckkk.” he shuts his eyes at the sensation, even now you’re still tight as you lower down onto him. without the pain you can feel how he fills you, vein catching on your entrance and his tip still has to shove its way. you take your time, eventually bottoming out. you grind your hips against him, the new angle makes him feel even deeper and you’re both panting from the stimulation.

“this is where you are rafey.” you take his hand and press it to where you feel him. he blinks rapidly, moaning at the words, his fingers push at the spot on your stomach, amazed by how far up he is. he really should be careful with you, his poor little baby was getting skewered by him. but then you’re the one teasing him—brat

“you tryna kill me?” rafe’s other hand spanks your ass and you jolt at the feeling, you don’t let it show that you like it but rafe can feel you clench, can feel how you get wetter. oh he can’t wait to test your limits. you start bouncing on him slowly, moving your hips at the pace that’s comfortable. eventually though your knees feel shaky and you lean down into him, your weight fully against his chest. rafe presses a sweet kiss to your cheek before hammering up into you. it’s a far more brutal pace than before, slamming his hips up into you and it’s nearly launching you off the bed. you scream his name and rafe can’t stop pulling the sound from you. your cunt feels like it might be bruised from his pace but the coil in your stomach is building regardless.

the bed shakes from his thrusts as the room is filled with rapid rhythm of plap plap plap and the pornographic moans from both of you. rafe can’t stop praising you and you can only repeat his name. the pressure is too much for your poor pussy building and building with no end in sight. one particular thrust that he pulls you down to meet by your hips snaps the band inside you, the dam breaking all at once— you’re splashing his hips and stomach with squirt and he fucks your through it, pulling as much out as he can. if rafe’s chest wasn’t a mess before he’s actually dripping come onto your sheets now. you’re clenching him so tight and the added lubrication feels like he might just be shoved out of you. he fucks into you until he can’t any more; until he pulls one more orgasm from you and can finally plug you full. rafe thinks that your timeline is so fucked up that getting you pregnant wouldn’t even be that bad, he wants that with you so why not start now? at least you should practice every night. you’re completely worn out on his chest, panting and clutching onto him as you regain strength. rafe even now loops his arms around you and holds you close.

“you’re never using that guest bedroom.” you say it in a croak, you may have lost your voice from screaming his name. rafe laughs and he can’t agree more.

“i was never planning on it.” he kisses your forehead adoringly, like he didn’t just rearrange your vital organs and gently lays you down beside him. you’re so grateful that you were able to come to obx and that in the end your best friend forgave you. because now you truly had him forever. what came next you’d face together.

a/n: it’s over :,( but i really enjoyed posting this it’s been in my drafts for a while <3 i’ll pry go back and edit this since i didn’t check much for mistakes my first run-through, also pry post a fluffy short epilogue!!

taglist: @clar2aa @ggraycelynn @rafestoothbrush @woweewoowa @mattyskies @always4tuesdayss @ashy-kit @chalahyung01 @rafeysslut @beabogsims @someoneisreading @rlalliehayes @artbymin @pogueprincesa @crvcified-kinx @ltristessedureratoujours @lilithblackkk @pluviophilis @emmiesummers

[ravenstargames]

✦ LOST IN LIMBO DEVLOG #16 | 03.03.2025

Aaand February is gone! Obliterated! Sent to oblivion! Which means a new devlog of Lost in Limbo is here to keep you updated about our work on the game. This has been a very eventful month in our private lives, and there has been a lot of work behind the scenes—but I know that's not what you're here for!

Let's jump into it! 💜

This month, Raquel has managed to finish Amon's new expressions and I've already coded them! She has also been working on Envy's new coat and their expressions, and we can't thank her enough for her hard work. Remember she now works from 8 to 13 and 15 to 18, and is still working for LiL, too!

Our second background for the Extended Demo's prologue is done, thanks to Airyn and Astro! We may make a few tweaks to it but here it is—Master Lysander's shop from the outside! Quite an interesting place, huh? Suspiciously different from the other buildings around it, some would say...

Astro has also finished the 3D modeling of the third background, which our Kickstarter Backers will be able to see in our Kickstarter devlog! :^) Now that he's free from 3D modeling hell, he'll be free to do a few adjustments to our artbook! 💜

This time, I'm talking about writing and programming in the same section, as process has been going well but there's not much to 'show' without spoiling scenes of the Extended prologue—which is something we don't want to do yet!

Kayden is still working on the new mini-cgs for the new prologue, which I hope we can show really really soon!

Our voice actors have also been sending over more voiced names, and we've been working with them to get the best takes for y'all!

This month we have also had to focus on taxes, paperwork, and going back and forth with our manufacturer, plus a few irl things we'll tell you all about in the next section!

Our discord peeps already know, but our Raquel has found a full-time job and we are very happy for her. She finally can start supporting herself, and even if that means she can't work on LiL as much as before, she's doing great sacrifices to keep up as much as she can. Astro now has three jobs and I myself have spent half of February hosting classes in college about character design, which is great! However, I got home at 11 pm (blame it on the flood that stroke my city on October), so I've been a bit all over the place.

We want to apologize if this devlog seems a bit short, or if progress this month lets y'all a bit down. On a happier note, we've joined our first festivals this month, including The Storyteller Festival, and Steam's Visual Novel Fest! Also the Amare Games Festival 2025 over at itch—we hope we can do at least a small update for the deadline, but I'm not so sure about that T_T

Phew! This month has been hectic, and sadly not for the right reasons. As irl things keep happening, you get a bit scared of not being up to the task of developing your game at a pace that satisfies not only your supporters, but yourself. As I write this I'm itching to go back to writing the prologue, haha.

So, yeah! I hope we can keep balancing our lives and LiL as best as we can. I also hope we get a bit of good news from our counselor regarding taxes, and I hope this month is full of cool opportunities for us! 💜

As always, thank you so so much for your support! See you in the next one! 💜

[sibsteria]

hi! just saw your 2025 rec list and that you write for spencer! i beg for a spence best friends/coworkers to lovers short lil sm sm (oneshot) if you're okay w that! also idk if you have a smosh/spencer series in the works but if you ever write one i can confirm I'll be your biggest fan love your fics can't wait to read more :)

@people-arelovers

Must be love on the brain...

Spencer Agnew x fem!Reader

Masterlist

a/n yes! absolutely, hello, hi, here I am- writing most of this in line for Pitbull tickets, dale (also combining two requests here, and I will absolutely be doing a series at some point fyi!)

Warnings/Content: alcohol, light angst, embarrassment, hinted pining, kissing, not proofread

Summary: A work's night out leads to drunken confessions...

''You don't have to drink to have a good time, y'know?'' Shayne shrugs at Spencer, his decision wary on joining the small group as he wasn't quite feeling up to a rager.

''There's not really a point in going to a bar if I don't drink, I'll just be surrounded by drunk people and feeling left out.'' He chuckles, he probably won't come anyway, his gaming chair is calling his name pretty loudly.

''Y/n is coming.'' Shayne throws it out there, he knew of Spencer's pining feelings towards the girl, a last ditch effort to get him to think about coming.

''Yeah, and I'll be boring and not drinking and- it's stupid.'' He runs a hand through his hair, thinking about you, how much he does in fact, love being around you.

''You know she doesn't care about that stuff?'' Shayne could almost feel himself rolling his eyes at his friend, how stubborn.

''Yeah...'' That's just one reason why he liked you so much, why you were his best friend.

Meanwhile, you were sat at your desk, having a similar conversation.

''I honestly don't think he's going to come.'' You smile, popping a piece of homemade hard candy Garrett had made.

''He might?'' Tommy smirks at you, he knew how you felt about the curly haired man.

''When has he ever, ever, come to a bar with us?'' You giggle at Tommy, shaking your head.

''There's a first time for everything.'' He brings up his hands, one forming an '0' and the other forming an 'I' before he puts them tog-

''Tommy! No!'' You whisper yell, you never know who could be around.

''Oh, come on, you want it. Live a little, Y/n, sweep that little nerd off his feet.'' He raises his eyebrows as if to say 'think about it'.

''Someone as funny and pretty and as cool as him wouldn't even think twice about me, we are just friends.'' You sigh at your own reality, how you wish it wasn't true, but beggars can't be choosers and at least you get to see his face nearly every day.

''You are so stupid.'' He saw the way he looked at you, as if you had hung the stars just for him, why are you always so stubborn? At least you and Spencer have that in common.

''Shut up!'' You squint at him, grumbling before you turn to your computer, time to get some work done before you can go home and shower.

You were sat at your vanity mirror, painstakingly applying some makeup so you look some variation of decent- the bags under your eyes telling a story of fatigue.

Your phone beeps out a message.

Message from: Spimgler

< Hey, sitting this one out, have a great time- miss you! >

Of course, but you couldn't blame him, a night in bed sounds a lot better than unwanted mingling with strangers right now but Tommy would have your head if you didn't come.

You down a glass of wine for your nerves whilst getting ready, you hate getting hit on and it’s not uncommon.

“Told you he wouldn’t come.” You grin at Tommy, you being right once again, although you wish you weren’t- maybe if he was here you wouldn’t feel so out of your depth.

“Yeah, whatever.” Tommy hands you a drink, he had been there a little while before you arrived.

The drunker you let yourself get, the more your mind wouldn’t let up on thoughts of Spencer. The smell of his shampoo as he leans into on one of the couches, the softness of his touch as hugs you when it all gets a bit too much to handle, the teasing smiles he shot at you like bullets when he tries to make you laugh. You get more and more sour as the night progresses, shooting down each potent bomb of liquor and strongly poured drinks.

As expected, just as you had unfortunately lost your group, you were approached by a man. But long gone was the slightly sober discomfort and combative attitude you would have once wore, a drunken mess of social embarrassment lies in its place.

“You know, my friend Spencer is so pretty-“ You hiccup, leaning with your elbow on the bar and cheek in your hand.

“Um, I asked if you wanted to dance with me?” The guy raises an eyebrow at you.

“I want to dance with Spencer! God, I miss him so damn much, I love him…I’m- I love him a lot-“ You frown, sniffling a little, why wasn’t he here right now.

“Okay…” He looks around the room, wondering if you were here all alone.

“Need to see him so bad, can you call Spencer?” You yawn, giggling as you imagine his adorable little voice.

“Not-not really, I don’t know this dude-“ He’s urgently scanning around now, he swore he had seen you with some people- a lanky brunette, a shorter blonde guy, a blonder girl, two dark haired ladies who were screaming at the table together where he first saw you-

“He’s so smart, y’know? So pretty and God, I wish he knew it. He’s funny…too funny for me- I love Spence-“ The man you were currently borderline harassing came into quick thanks as the lanky brunette neared you, clearly recognising you and starts to laugh at your words.

“Okay, okay. C’mon Y/n, stop professing your love for Spencer to strangers.” Tommy mouths a ‘sorry’ at the guy and he just half smiles, awkwardly- it was his choice to approach the plastered girl at the bar, anyways.

“Spencer…” You whine, dragged away by Tommy, your cheeks are flushed and you can’t even walk straight.

“Want me to call him, to come get you?” Although you harboured strong, strong feelings for the man- he knew he was also your best friend and could handle you in this state, and would also drop anything to help you. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to meddle and progress things along- a hope you would possibly spill your guts to him. It was no secret that Spencer returned your feelings, except to you.

“Yes!” You scream in excitement, he walks you outside for some fresh air, you slump down on the pavement. Tommy calls Spencer from your phone, he’s more likely to pause whatever game he is playing to answer your call.

“Y/n, hey, you oka-“ His voice holds a happy tone as he answered.

“It’s Tommy, hey look, could you- stop lying down on the dirty street!” He yelps at you as you don’t feel like sitting upright anymore, “-could you come and pick her up? She’s a bit of a mess and honestly past the point of enjoying herself, just want her home safe.

“Be there in ten.” Is all he says before buttoning the phone down, Tommy sighing in relief- he just didn’t want you to end your hurt- you were actually pretty funny right now all things considered.

“Y/n, honey, he’s on his way.” He sits next to you, placing an arm around your shoulder, comforting you.

“Who?” You look at his completely quizzical.

“Spencer-“

“Spencer’s coming?!” You smile, dreamily, squealing a little, oh yeah, this was going to be a perfect disaster.

It had been just under ten minutes as he pulls up a metre or so away from the two of them, getting out of his car and heading straight for his best friend.

“Thank you, thank you! She needs a whole lotta’ rest.” Tommy stands up and tried to bring you up with him but you whine out, not wanting to move just yet. “I am so sorry for what you may be about to go through.” Although he’s smiling, indicating he is not sorry at all.

“Have a good night.” Spencer nods curtly, locking his car just in case before sitting next to you.

“When is Spencer getting here?” You mumble into your arms, head in your knees.

“Peekaboo.” An airy tone to his voice as your head shoots up.

“Oh- Spence!” You shriek, wrapping your arms around him tightly, though you had done it many times before- he still couldn’t help his heart as it beat a little faster.

“H-hey, beautiful, you doing okay?” You giggle as he talks to you, beautiful, he says.

“You’re the beautiful one, stupid.” You lay your head on his shoulder

“Oh, yeah?” He’s caught a little off guard.

“Mhm, pretty, pretty…” You sigh as you nuzzle into him, jesus, how much did you drink.

“I’m pretty to you?” He automatically goes for the teasing avenue, combatting how he feels with a joke.

“Obviously, I wouldn’t be in love with you if you weren’t.” You scoff as if it’s common knowledge, his mouth gapes open, he’s…what?

“What?” He repeats his thoughts.

“What?” You yawn, still happy as a baby on his shoulder.

“You just said- you’re in love with me?” He asks it as a question, you probably just mean a friendly ‘I love you’.

“Yeah…but you don’t like me back though, so it’s silly of me. You’re just so pretty and amazing and- I’ve loved you since I first met you…” You look as if you’re falling asleep, Spencer’s head is a flurry full of confusion- he feels like he should be hyperventilating right now.

“I…” This was definitely a talk for sober Y/n, no matter how much he wanted to tell her he loved her right now.

“It’s okay…I’m used to it.” It’s like you can’t quite recognise this is reality and not a nightly dream of yours.

“I’ll drive you home? Or-“

“Can we have a sleep over?” You blink up at him, wondering why you are seeing three Spencers.

“Sure…” He bites his lip, you were extremely cute like this, usually you would be so stubborn and nonchalant and cool.

The drive back is surprisingly uneventful, you practically passed out in the passenger seat, head against the window after he had told you you cant hug him whilst he drives.

“Your car smells good…smells like you.” You smiled at nothing, a patter of rain beginning to hits the windows, lulling you into serenity. Jesus, you can’t keep saying that shit whilst he’s driving, now all he wants to do is look at you and listen to the adoring words. Was how he smelled comforting to you?

He had managed to get you through his front door easier than expected, you were willing to follow his every word.

He gave you some privacy as you haphazardly dressed yourself up in a backup pair of pyjamas you had left at his house, he hears a few bangs and nearly opens the door to check on you but ultimately decides maybe that’s not the best idea- he wants to respect your privacy as always.

“Spence!” You shout, laying on his bed already, you were so ready to sleep.

“You ready to go to sleep? You got a brutal hangover waiting for you tomorrow.” He grins at you as your pout into the air.

“Ugh.”

“I’ll let you settle down.” He whispers, attempting to walk away. You slept in the same bed more than once before, whenever you had slept over but…he just knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep next to you tonight- repeating what you had said to him over and over again, overthinking and-

“Can you stay a little? ‘Till I fall asleep?” How can he say no as your sweet, tired voice tweets up at him.

“Till you fall asleep.” He confirms, his heard stammering as he moves to sit next to you, back against the headboard as you lay, you inch towards him touching his arm with you nose and he wants to explode. He can feel the air you breathe through your nose, hitting his arm as you slowly fell into slumber, a subtle smile on your face.

What was going to happen tomorrow?

Your head throbs as you stir, already feeling the nausea set in, your tongue sticking to your mouth due to how dehydrated you were. You smell something that you recognise, something that’s not your house…oh, fuck.

Memories from last night violently hammer at your head, or was that just the hangover? You fucked up so hard, you told him you love him? What were you thinking, clearly you weren’t at all.

Your eyes blink open, his bedside table catching your attention. There stood a big glass of water, some painkillers and…a note?

Good morning,

If you are reading this, take these pills before you leave the room, I can hear your headache from here.

-S

Was he going to be angry? Upset? Uncomfortable? Oh, god, you have ruined your whole relationship with him.

You do as he had said, slamming the pain relief in your mouth before washing the pills down with two thirds of the glass.

Maybe you could sneak out, facing your bad, bad drunk decisions seemed like a nightmare.

You creep to the pile of your stuff in the corner of the room, slowly changing into your clothes, not putting your shoes on yet just in case.

You pry open the door, peeking at the space outside, no sign of Spencer.

You quietly move towards the front door, you had gotten away with it- a loud creak sounds from a floorboard beneath you- nearly, you had nearly gotten away with it?

“Y/n?” He follows the sound to its source. “Are you…leaving?” He can’t blame you for wanting to.

“Um, sorry. It’s just-“

“Yeah, I know, you didn’t mean it- it’s okay.” Forever the respectful man he was, he never lashes out, never got angry- he just…pretended he was okay.

“Mean what?” You want to know what he thought, if you had embarrassed yourself as much as you thought.

“Look, last night, you were drunk and it’s fine- you were just being the best friend you are- you don’t need to feel sorry about it.”

“Spence….” You put down your shoes and your bag.

“You said you were in love with me, but you didn’t mean it like that, it’s okay.” The look in his eyes told you he was not okay, was he…upset?

“I-“

“Just- I’ll drive you home, okay?” He half smiles, trying to look normal, the room goes silent as you decide it’s all or nothing.

“I meant it…by the way.” You hold your breath, if you had read the situation wrong you basically just doubled down on the burning crash that was your friendship.

“You- what?” He stops putting his shoes on, looking up at you.

“I…I am, in love with you…” Your chest heaves a little faster as the tension in the room was becoming too much.

“You…are?” Shit, you had misread it.

“Okay, no, it’s fine- just drive me home, forget what I said-“

“I love you. Too, I love you too.” He can’t meet your eyes yet, everything was up in the air, a pressure on your chest.

“No, I- I love you. Like, I want to be the person you see every morning, the person you wake up to. I am so in love with you it hurts, you are gorgeous and smart and funny and-“

“Stop.” Your breath hitches, was this it now?

“Y/n…I think you are the most beautiful person I have ever had the chance to know, to be best friends with and to…fall in love with. You are the first thought I have in the morning and the last one I have before I fall asleep. All I do is think of you, what is she doing? Is she happy? I bet she looks pretty right now, like all the time. Since you spilled coffee all over Damien on your first day- both of your awkward apologies and the both of you being too kind to be angry at the situation. You…I need you.” He’s standing in front of you now, looking down at you with those deep-set eyes, it was also a perk you him that you were shorter than him- a rarity. You can’t speak as you relay everything he said, all you want to do is kiss him, and he is thinking the same.

You tentatively step closer, his head leans down, aching slow and unsure, your hands come up to cup his cheek and steady yourself on his shoulder as you lean up. Your lips meet and it’s one of the sweetest things you’ve tasted, that could just be the Kickstart, but he kisses you with such care and emotion- you have never been kissed like this. Or maybe you have but it’s never felt like this- like it was meant to happen, like you were made for him. His hands delicately find their home resting on your hips, your mouths moving together- kissing him deeper.

Neither of you seem to want to stop but eventually it gets difficult to breath through just your noses.

“So…”

He smiles at you, he had a feeling his life was just about to become beautiful.

a/n update! guess who won the ticketmaster war is seeing pitbull ft shaggy in concert? me, dale xo

[pokemonshelterstories]

My partner keeps a small collection of the pokemon who pass away under his care (mostly fish pokemon preserved in alcohol, all of which passed due to health complications or age) and it got me thinking about if people do this kind of thing with larger pokemon? I've seen taxidermy that people get done of their personal hunting kills like with Sawsbuck head mounts and those old Pyroar centerpieces from back when hunting them was a thing, but never really seen any of something like a family Houndour or a prized racing Zebstrika. Is it just not a thing that most people do?

i think there are two major reasons for this. one is that not everybody is comfortable with the idea of preserving their pokemon's body instead of burying or cremating it, which i understand. death is something people can be sensitive towards. the other is that large mounts are expensive to do, especially if the pokemon has some unusual features.

to be honest, there are a lot of pokemon where preserving them as they were in life would be really hard, anyway. like, yeah, you can stuff a ponyta's body, but you can't do much to preserve the flames that burn along its back. a lot of grass types lose their colors or can't really be taxidermied because of their plantlike structures. for pokemon whose cells have particular compositions, like vaporeon, they get kind of...melty, for lack of a better word.

there are sometimes other ways to preserve pokemon- my brother in law has some incredible floette preserved in resin! but large pokemon are pretty much always harder to preserve in these ways.

[lunammoon]

What type of plant would Harding gift your Rook? Probably something that they can put in food. Like Basil or Rosemary. Just not mint because they already have Too Much in a way that anyone who has planted mint will understand. Harding still tries to give them mint. Again, for reasons anyone who has grown mint can understand.

Do they like Harding's cooking? Harding's Yam and Jam slams are not that bad, but Harding gets bonus points for the thoughtfulness of the gesture more than anything. During the first couple of months where Ezra is legitimately trying to figure out how to separate Lucanis and Spite after the first attempt, but before the second and last attempt (because if anyone could do it without hurting either of them they're sure that they could) in trying to express how fucked up what Zara did to them was on a purely metaphysical level says calls the Ossuary experiments "Facinating in the same way that what Harding does to potatoes is fascinating. "

What animal/monster would Davrin carve for your Rook? I'm torn between some kind of cat, and some kind of dog. If it's a dog, then it's specifically a grim.

Does your Rook like the walks in Arlathan with Davrin? Ezra loves the fresh air and the sunshine and the way Arlathan feels alive. They also enjoy spending time with Davrin and Assan. Sometimes they'll invite him out instead of waiting for him to invite them.

What is something Neve could call on your Rook for if she needs certain expertise for a case? Things related to spirits but unrelated to the deceased. Particularly blood magic, which is used to bind spirits to objects. In like, an au where Ezra is Ezra and not Rook, and Neve was hired by Caterina to locate her grandson (maybe in a timeline where the Inquisitor and Varric successfully talk Solas down long before the 9:51) and she had picked up enough info to know what was happening down there, she would have asked Ezra to assist.

Does your Rook share Neve's love of fried fish? No. While fish is the only meat they eat and they basically only eat if if they're out in the wilderness and it's the easiest food to access. They tried it once since they'd already been given to them by Neve and didn't particularly like them.

Does your Rook join Bellara in her technical talks about the Fade and various artifacts or are they more content to listen? They might join in if it intersects with something that they know about. Or if they're helping Bellara work out an issue. Otherwise, they just sit and listen. They like to listen to Bellara work through a problem.

Do your Rook and Bellara read serials together? Yes. Ezra goes out of their way to find good ones for them to read with, as many containing happy endings as they can.

What is your Rook's favorite dish that Lucanis cooks? I don't know what the exact dish is, but it's either some kind of stew or some kind of pastry stuffed with vegetables.

What would Lucanis buy for your Rook at the Grande Market? An empty notebook small enough to fit in their coat pockets. They end up filling it entirely with information pertaining to helping him and Spite. It's a coincidence that it's the notebook Lucanis gave them mind you. They just need a separate notebook for it since the plan is that when they're done they give the notebook to Lucanis to either keep or burn instead of submitting the contents to the Mourn Watch as part of their research like they normally do.They don't want Lucanis to feel like a thesis project.

What dragon would Taash think your Rook would like the best? The Vinsomer. They are correct.

Do they bring your Rook 'round the Hall of Valor to drink often? Yes absolutely. Ezra doesn't drink much, but Spirits like them and so they'll sit and talk with them for a while.

Would your Rook like Emmrich's mother's hazelnut torte? They adore it.

What kind of tea would Emmrich make for your Rook? If Ezra is making themself tea, it's always mint. But I feel in my heart that if Emmrich is making it, then the answer is a strong black tea. Something so strong that they can taste it and nothing else.

Bonus: What is one thing a companion does to cheer up your Rook if they're feeling down? Davrin - When Ezra is reaching a point where it seems like they're going to lose it, Davrin will come up with some excuse why the three of them (Davrin, Rook, Assan) need to go to Arlathan forest so that they can Touch Grass.

Small Rook & Companion Questions:

What type of plant would Harding gift your Rook?

Do they like Harding's cooking?

What animal/monster would Davrin carve for your Rook?

Does your Rook like the walks in Arlathan with Davrin?

What is something Neve could call on your Rook for if she needs certain expertise for a case?

Does your Rook share Neve's love of fried fish?

Does your Rook join Bellara in her technical talks about the Fade and various artifacts or are they more content to listen?

Do your Rook and Bellara read serials together?

What is your Rook's favorite dish that Lucanis cooks?

What would Lucanis buy for your Rook at the Grande Market?

What dragon would Taash think your Rook would like the best?

Do they bring your Rook 'round the Hall of Valor to drink often?

Would your Rook like Emmrich's mother's hazelnut torte?

What kind of tea would Emmrich make for your Rook?

Bonus: What is one thing a companion does to cheer up your Rook if they're feeling down?

[horreurscopes]

i wish having to remind someone something three or five or fifteen times or however many it takes until they remember it on their own was more destigmatized within the framework of disability accomodations

like i understand the emotional significance given to the act of remembering, i have myself have had the kneejerk reaction that maybe i'm not as important to someone as they say i am if they forget something i asked of them or told them. i get it. but that's like. a societal expectation that isnt necessarily true, you know.much like eye contact to mean you are listening or a smile to mean you are friendly. like, yeah, of course an asshole who isn't listening to you might not make eye contact, but that doesn't mean that every single time someone isn't making eye contact it means they are an asshole.

to me disposition is much more important than memory, especially in the realm of boundaries and cohabitation, like: let's say you don't like it when your partner puts their shoes on the bed. extremely reasonable thing to ask them not to do, and something that, if not done, would very quickly become a point of contention because them continuing to do the thing you asked them not to is interpreted as a dismissal of your feelings and a violation of a reasonable boundary. and i know a lot of people themselves already struggle putting up boundaries and enforcing them and are extremely reactive to anything that can be interpreted as a boundary being crossed, and this can be super hard to deal with. but like. disabilities ARE hard to deal with, you know, they are frustrating and they might slow you down or inconvenience you, and that's just part of the deal! is it really an accomodation if the line is drawn at whatever arbitrary point someone decides they're done accommodating? do you walk alongside a person on crutches for three blocks and then are like, ok, i've accommodated you enough, time to go at my pace now?

and yes, yes, i know "i forgot" or "i didn't know" can be used to truly harm someone else in a number of infinitely nuanced scenarios. context clues, people. to me that's where disposition comes in and separates "literally struggles to remember" from "disrespecting and pushing boundary", and i think that separation, albeit fuzzy for people who strongly correlate memory and respect, can be learned?

if my partner was like, "hey, don't put your shoes on the bed!" then a respectful disposition towards their boundaries would immediately make me go, "oh no! sorry i forgot! here, i will stop doing it immediatly, and if necessary amend the damage of me forgetting (in this analogy, washing the sheets)". and if this has to happen thirteen times before i remember on my own, i would feel truly bad about it because i'm letting my loved one down even though it's something i legitimately can't control. i don't know! it's the "if you cared, you would remember" unstoppable force vs "if you cared, you'd cut me some slack for not remembering" immovable object, it's hard. like thats what i mean by context clues, what is more likely: that a person who in every other way has shown up for you has suddenly become toxic/selfish/abusive specifically about shoes on the bed, or that they struggle to remember?

i don't know man. the way i see it, ultimately it's a lot more feasible to adjust your expectations of what someone loving you and caring about you will look like and how it shows up in their behavior, than it is to literally force yourself to remember something. and my memory issues are not even that bad! after the fifth or sixth reminder something will generally stick around (unless it's a situation that does not happen often, in which case the large stretches of time in between might hinder my progress), and like someone might just decide the rest of the Me is not worth the trouble, and that's their prerogative, but i do think it says more about them than it does about me.

everyone's always up for disability rights until it becomes inconvenient or clashes with their idea of what "good behavior" should look like. like i can't help but think that if this is something that *i* struggle with socially, i can't imagine what people who have a legitimately debilitating memory disability, who may need to be reminded forever, feel like every day of their damn lives

[writhyv]

⋆｡°✩ coming home to your pouty bf

unsorted | park jongseong x male!reader

pairing: jay x male reader genre: fluff ffdsfsdfgdsg notes: one note - pouty jay

“Jaaaayy~” you cooed, trying to figure out what the small fuss was about.

“Mmh…” your lover pouted as he sat on your comfortable leather couch. He looked a bit conflicted, but also really mad. But not really? You’d know if he was truly mad, but this felt very strange.

Walking to his side, you tried to hug him. Even though he was starting to gain some muscle, you could still hug him tight like a sloth. Leaning your head into the empty space between his shoulders and neck, Jay sighed, attempting to look away from you.

“Jaaaayy~” you continued to try your best, watching him pout even harder. His lips were pursed, clearly upset about something.

“Mmh…” he kept giving you those tiny hums. Maybe something had set him off? But it was really hard to tell…

Thinking of what might’ve upset him, you took one last look at him before sitting properly on the couch. Gently holding his hand as you made your way through his arms, you prepared your voice so he could hear you clearly.

“Are you mad I got home early?” you asked, thinking this might be one reason for his unusual tantrum.

Jay shot a glance at you, almost breaking his own neck with the speed. You nearly had to hide your giggle, but a snort came out instead.

“Mad?” Jay raised his brow, clearly concerned.

“Y-yeah?” you replied. “Like… do you—”

“I’m not mad!” he insisted, trying to speak clearly. Understanding the certainty in his answer, you nodded back.

“Uh-huh…” you agreed, albeit reluctantly.

“I just…” another pout appeared on his lips, this time directed toward you. At least, that’s how it looked.

“Just?”

“Ughhh…” he groaned, lying back against the couch as dramatically as he could. Clearly, he wanted to say something, but there was a hiccup, and he felt stuck.

Rubbing his leg for comfort, Jay looked at you with an apologetic gaze. You smiled, knowing you were there for him, no matter what he was feeling at that moment.

“I…” Jay sighed before sitting up again.

“You?”

“I wanted to…” he gulped, holding back one last time. “I wanted to pick you up, and you didn’t call me.”

“Pfft!” You almost burst out laughing at that. Jay looked at you, donning that pout once more.

“Hey!”

“BAHAHAH!!” You laughed, rolling off the couch and landing on your rugged carpet from the sudden dose of comedy. “Oh my god…”

“You could’ve told me?” Jay continued, crossing his arms like a frustrated mother.

And rightfully so, he felt devastated (to a point). Listen, you’d never really done surprises around him, okay? Actually, that was his thing. He gives you flowers, a comfy chair, a famous painting, and maybe a couple of tickets to a nice game of Japanese baseball. TLDR, that was a HIM thing.

Knowing the date when your flight home lands was important to him, too. He didn’t care what time of day it was or whether he was tired from practice sessions or midnight meetings—he was going to get you home safe and sound.

And now, in his mind, his plan was ruined. He wanted to cook a nice dinner for a cozy night in, perfect a new song he’d just worked on to share the demo with you, buy candlelight, and cover your whole apartment in rose petals just to welcome you back from your stressful overseas seminar trip this week.

But none of that mattered anymore because it all came crashing down when he saw you behind your apartment door.

You wore a golden smile he truly missed seeing in person, looking so refreshed from your trip almost 4 million miles away from him. You radiated a particular shine, and Jay felt overwhelmed by it.

He couldn’t properly welcome someone so surreal that he called his own boyfriend. His lover.

Suddenly, all those emotions were washed away into nothingness. Without the sorrow of what should’ve happened, and the guilt of being outnumbered in your own game, Jay fell back on the couch with you on top of him.

With great force, you grabbed his face and kissed him as much as you could. It felt like running out of air while sprinting uphill, taking in all the oxygen around you and breathing it in as fast as possible.

That was what broke Jay, and it always would. A lasting kiss turned into a playful battle for dominance, which then transformed into a sweet release of dopamine and the scent of love between the two of you.

Jay could only touch his lips in awe, still stunned that you kissed him that much.

With a cute giggle, you looked at him and lightly tapped his nose repeatedly, laying your weight on his broad chest.

“So, still mad?” you asked.

“I-I’m sorry.” Jay looked away, trying not to cringe at himself for being so childish.

But with one gentle gesture, you took a finger to his jaw and turned him slowly to face you.

“Never be sorry,” you smiled. “I love you, always.”

Kissing him again felt like too much, yet you did it without hesitation. You loved overwhelming Jay with your romance because deep down, you knew this man needed all of it. And you were the only one qualified to administer this special procedure.

You were his better half, for better and forever.

jay is clearly the cutest member of enhypen. now smother him in kisses HAAHAHDJAHDJFSAF

hope you guys enjoyed it! please like, comment, or reblog~

my masterlist!

made by writhyv 💘

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Jungkook as a Boyfriend

Disclaimer: No facts, all alleged, just my interpretation.

Alright, time to get to another person I am excited to do and see what I can get for him as a boyfriend. So, I will do four sections. The first one will be their light traits. The second will be their shadow traits. Third part I will go into their sexual energy as a partner. The last will be any final messages or anything else I can get and also any improvements they can make.

Light traits as a boyfriend:

He is someone who will do anything for love and find the love of his dreams. Once he has that person. He will do what it takes to keep that person and to keep their attention. I say he may want his person just to fall in love with him over and over again.

He will be about romantic gestures, buying gifts, doing sweet things for his person to make them happy and show his love in many ways. I can see him surprising his partner with flowers, gifts, or anything they desire. He will spoil his partner a lot. He will do whatever it takes to put a smile on their face.

I see him being someone who wants to inspire his partner and motivate them to do well. I see him have lots of wisdom and sharing that with his partner. They can go to him, and he will help lift their spirits and have some motivational words to say to them. It is like they would feel at ease around him.

He seems like a cuddler. Someone who would hold his partner dear to him and comfort them whenever they needed. Like if they have a bad day. He would just hold his person. I can see him also be a good friend and someone who just listens to his partner. He seems like a simple person when it comes to love, he just loves and isn't too complicated about things.

I see him having ideas to try new things together and will have plans to do those things with his partner. There will always be some new things he brings to the table. I think he just wants to try new things to keep the love alive and to not let things get too boring. So, he would come up with new things to keep things alive.

This was cute and I expected it to be this way.

Shadow traits as a boyfriend:

Okay, to start of he can be a bit of liar, and not always tell the truth. Also, he is very honest, a bit too honest, so he can be brutally honest to his partner and won't be afraid to tell it how it is. If you done something stupid, he will say it. He doesn't hold back on communication. Also, this man will always have something say, and that can get annoying. So, I find it funny that he can lie, but also be honest, he picks and choose when he wants to do that.

He can be a bit childish, yeah that will pop, a bit immature. He can be hard to reason with at times. And there could be some childhood wounds that pop up. I feel he does have some abandonment issues, also peter pan syndrome of struggling to grow up, be an adult, and take responsibility for things. He may struggle to own up to his mistakes.

Abandonment issues will pop up. He will cling to his partner and there will be a struggle to be alone, so time apart can be difficult. He may guilt his partner to stay with him and not leave, may even guilt trip them. I wonder if this stems from his relationship with Mom. He was shipped off very young, I believe 15, so there seems to be abandonment issues there and that will bleed onto his partners and this strong desire and need to belong.

He does seem to have this arrogance to him. This need to be right, a strong competitive spirit. So, it will be hard for his partner to get a say in at times. He may struggle to listen to his partner if there is a disagreement. He also acts impulsively, so he may do dumb stuff in the moment, not sure what that looks like, but that could end up messing up the relationship.

Also, he seems to be way too logical and strategic at times. He may not pay too much attention to the emotional aspect of things or how things can emotionally affect his partner. He may see things as too black and white without the regards of the perspective of his partner. It is like to him it all makes sense, it is logical, but he disregards his partners feeling and thoughts on things. It is like he is way too rational and would struggle to understand why his partner is upset.

Sexual energy as a boyfriend:

Okay, he is an enthusiastic, adventurous, carefree, spontaneous and experimental lover. He enjoys exploring new things and having fun when it comes to sex. I see him being a generous lover but also being honest about what he wants and what he doesn't like. I don't see him having many boundaries and he enjoys taking risk.

I do see there is trauma when it comes to sex, and that is something he will need to heal, and he may do that in the process of sex with his partner. There are lots of wounds and pain there. But this can be a healing journey with the person he loves and who can tend to his wounds and be kind and patient with him.

This man does have a strong desire and a strong sex drive. He needs to be careful with this Mars energy, it is very primal and aggressive, so that aggressive and competitive energy can be released through the passion of sex, or in the moment. There is this impulse to have sex with his person. He will be pretty needy when it comes to sex and may desire it a lot. And I am seeing this desire to overpower his partner and dominate them.

He does seem like someone who is very experienced when it comes to sex and seems to obtain a lot of knowledge, so you are in for a ride with him. I say he is someone who knows what he is doing. He knows exactly what to do for both parties to achieve their peak. He does tend to cling to the past, this may be his past trauma, or past lovers, and whatever happened their bleeds into his sex life in the present as well.

Final messages/improvements:

Okay, so the High Priestess flew out so quick, so that is an important message for him. I was kind of confused what that meant at first, but I think they want him to do some inner work, before developing a relationship. To get the answers he needs to look from within, but to also be patient and to not rush things and try to quickly find the one.

That this process takes time, but overall, he needs to go within and find happiness within himself instead of seeking a partner to fulfill his needs. It is like he may feel finding a partner will just answer all his concerns and questions and it won't, going within does that. He may need some time for himself to figure that out, but not sure he will give himself that time.

I think there could be someone in his life that could be a good fit for him. He would need someone just as passionate as him and creative, someone charming, magnetic and who emits warmth, strength and inspiration. I wonder if this person lives in a different country, hmm. They may be a performer too. It is like he would work well with another creative person, a person of passion, someone pretty similar to him, but also has their differences so they can learn from each other. They both can help each other and create something beautiful together. Also, they both need to have a strong pull and attraction towards another.

I wanted to close this out, but I was pulled towards another deck. He should play around with ideas, have fun with things, maybe date around more, and not just cling to one person, which seems contradicting, because isn't there a specific someone that I mentioned above, or they are showing characteristics he should look for that could fit what would work best for him, that could be it, so there may not be a specific person at the moment. I am being shown those are the traits he should look for.

They also want him to live out his fantasy or what he envisions, so if there is something he wants out of love and relationships to stop living in a fantasy and start making it a reality. It is like you create your reality, so he needs to do that. It is like the person he may want to seek and may feel it is right for him. He doesn't go after them, as he may feel he isn't good enough or it won't work out, but they are saying for him to go for it.

Hmm, this was as interesting as I thought. I will close it here. This was fun. Hope you enjoyed this, and I do hope he finds love and healing.

[bigmomma25]

Character Analysis of Josh Levy

Sorry if this is shit, idk how to word my feelings on Josh. Gonna go about each character very differently bc they're all complex in their own right and I have so many thoughts. Brain so full. He’s the most tragic of them all, super overlooked, misunderstood, and underrated. He’s someone who’s hard to analyze, since he’s so guarded. Plus I distance myself from him bc he's too real lol

I feel the most integral part of Josh's character is the fact that he's neurodivergent. He's always been very autistic-coded in writing, but it was also confirmed by Dorkin that he is somewhere on the neurodivergent spectrum, which changes his character completely from just a gluttonous selfish loser to a cautionary tale of what can happen when autistic children get no resources or room to be "weird" in public.

When we first meet Josh, it's established that he's the laughing stock of the group. In the first meeting that we see, the rest of the club has managed to get all types of pop culture merchandise from all over the place, but Josh's are more childish, like Animaniacs and Flintstones. He also went the easiest route, basically relying on his mother if he wanted to get anything done. All in all, not very complex, and this gets him laughed at immediately.

He is only treated with respect when he has something the rest of the club values, and has to use it as leverage to get any kind of positive feedback. During open debate, he's almost sneered at by the rest of the group and doesn't even realize it, since he's loud and corny and laughs at his own jokes. When they play DnD, he's shown to be very insecure and terrible at decision-making, once again getting him endlessly shit on by Pete. And once his leverage is gone, he's mocked again, especially for falling for such an easy scam.

There is a lot to unpack there, very quickly. The story almost makes it easy to point and jab at someone like Josh, without looking much deeper than the surface. He's the Eltingville Club's personal Chris-Chan, or Tophia, or Daniel Larsen.

Josh Levy has a Binge Eating Disorder

Josh has bad eating habits, both in the comics and pilot. He's willing to eat stale Doritos from a trash can, is constantly shoving fast food in his face, and bulk buys food constantly for the collectibles, eating it all instead of throwing it away like his friends. It even leads to health problems and discomfort, like when he was eating nothing but Batman-shaped Mac and Cheese for days and had extreme bathroom issues. This is meant to show his gluttony, but even that represents the issue Josh has faced all his life - his problems being portrayed as his own fault and made into a gag. Being fat is not a moral failure, but everyone has always told Josh that it was.

Binge eating stems from somewhere. You aren't born with those habits, and there's a reason he feels stupid and ashamed every time he participates in it. Josh has always faced a lack of control and emotional support from everyone in his life, leading to him trying to find it in both escapism and food binges. It's also a sign of even bigger mental health issues, but no one steps in. His own family shows a lack of care or consideration for their son, along with enabling his habits by constantly buying more for him. He has very little say in his own life, but he does at least have a say in how he eats and the things that bring him joy, even if it's destroying him.

Enabling Parents

While I wouldn’t say Josh has good parents, they at least have some type of care for him, and he obviously comes from a family with money. His parents are very old, and his mother is sickly, which means that they probably can’t discipline him in the way that he needed as a child. Even when Josh was grounded, it was a very light punishment compared to what he did (literally vandalism) and it’s clear there aren’t many rules in his house.

They essentially allow Josh to do whatever he wants, and throw money at him constantly, but refuse to actually look at what he needs emotionally that is causing all these outbursts. They show very little care when Josh is distraught, don’t address his binge eating habits or obsessions or why he’s having dreams of his friends beating him to a pulp. They constantly buy him a bunch of junk food when they can see the impact it’s having on his health, or maybe they don’t pay enough attention to notice. With his mother being sick, it’s very likely that he didn’t get much attention, and tried to get it from everywhere else in his life. He’s emotionally neglected and physically spoiled, trying to use material possessions to fill that void.

Josh’s Autistic Traits

I’m going to have to make a bullet pointed list for this, since there’s so many instances that it’s hard to pinpoint all of it.

Emotional Outbursts/Emotional Impermanence - Josh has been shown on multiple occasions to feel things very strongly, and acts out because of how emotional he gets. Particularly, his anger often overwhelms him. It’s very common for people on the spectrum to lack the ability to regulate their emotions and self soothe in a typical fashion, which leads to meltdowns, and angry outbursts. Josh clearly has a hard time conveying what he’s thinking when he’s upset, often getting tripped up and desperate, like trying to explain himself during the trivia-off, and trying to set boundaries with the club about the fat jokes only to be met with laughter and ridicule. I firmly believe he’s had meltdowns multiple times on screen, and it’s not always just him throwing a tantrum. He’s also able to switch his emotions very quickly, going from fuming with anger to beaming with joy, as if he’d felt nothing else beforehand.

Social Obliviousness - Josh often doesn’t realize he’s the butt of the joke when it’s not spelled out for him. His friends don’t even want to be seen next to him at times, and he never really realizes the degree in which they hate him. He makes a fool out of himself constantly, but doesn’t realize how people perceive him OUTSIDE of being a fat nerd, and has no desire to know and no self-reflection. Once again, I feel that the dream he has about his friends beating him up until he bleeds is significant, because he asks himself “what could that possibly mean” when it is VERY obvious to the rest of the audience.

His Special Interests Shape His World - Josh isn’t shown to be the brightest in many aspects; in the pilot he’s prone to making mistakes, he often comments in the comics about how he comes to realizations far slower than the rest of his friends. But when it comes to his special interests like Star Wars, he’s a human encyclopedia. He knows the most out of the group about anything sci-fi and comic related, even trying to build an actual functional Iron-Man suit by himself (before lighting himself on fire, but that’s still knowledge and dedication). The way he calms down is literally sorting his figure into lines. He can’t take his mind off of it even in important situations, like in the pilot when he’s being screamed at by Bill’s mom but is still caught up in the DnD game. His job in the future is literally him trying to be a comic writer. He cannot function in the world without his special interests being involved, and since most people were very hostile towards him and his interests, this manifests in him being defensive and obsessive instead of forming a normal relationship with it.

Lack of Empathy - Josh is very rude, like everyone in the club. While his harassment of others isn’t an autistic trait, it does show that he has a hard time putting himself in other people’s shoes. Even when he does care about people, like his mother, or Bill not getting a chance to get a Star Wars figure because Josh keeps hoarding them, or Pete after the zombie walk, he can’t conceptualize how they feel if it doesn’t affect him. It may not even dawn on him, because of his social ineptitude.

Missing Social Cues - Josh isn’t the best in social situations; from the painful conversation with the many cashiers at fast food places, to the scene during DnD, in the comics, when Josh is confronted with a social interaction with a girl and completely falls apart. He’s awkward, he’s loud, and he has no idea he’s awkward and loud. He’s also very blunt, and sincere with his words, not realizing that other people can say something and mean another, like when he showed up to job interviews and talked about Godzilla, thinking the hiring manager was interested.

Black and White Thinking/Paranoia - Josh jumps to conclusions often. With him, it’s either something is the worst thing to ever exist, or it’s perfect and you’re not allowed to criticize it. He has a hard time understanding that grey area, and this also reflects on how he views other people. Unlike Bill or Pete who form their judgements of “normies” on trends they’ve noticed and behaviors they’ve watched from afar, Josh thinks they’re all inherently bad based on his own experiences being bullied. And he believes all nerds are inherently better because of his friend group and experiences. Seeing someone who’s both preppy and enjoys nerdy media would probably turn his entire world view upside down.

Disorganization/Executive Functioning Issues - Josh can’t care for himself on his own, and has a hard time in public places. In the pilot it’s more evident, during the DnD game when he’d been shown to drop everything, make poor decisions, be hyper focused on small issues and details while ignoring the big picture, which can reflect how he conducts himself in real life. Even just making himself a meal or going grocery shopping is hard for Josh, which can be partly caused by his parents babying him too much, and partly from lack of executive functioning skills.

The Lolcow-ification of Josh

Unfortunately it’s a big part of his character stereotype that this story takes place in the early 2000s, which means the general population is very hostile to both fat people AND autistic people. Being both means that anyone and everyone will find an excuse to shit on you, and it will be socially accepted to do so. So it’s not unreasonable to assume Josh has been socially outcasted since his birth. Social Isolation is scientifically the worst pain humans can go through as a social species - it manifests in the brain as physical pain. And being exposed to that pain your whole life leaves you traumatized.

I’m going to be a dork for a second and reference my favorite book; much like how Frankenstein’s monster was not born violent, but grew to be so after being rejected and betrayed by everyone he knew, Josh‘s positive traits slowly became overshadowed by his insecurity and defensiveness.

It’s rather heartbreaking, how hard it is to analyze Josh when he is so clearly defined by trauma. Especially since it’s a fact that no autistic person in our society has really gone without trauma. It’s hard to know the real Josh when he’s always on defense mode. His trauma is also heavily overlooked, both in the story and in reality. Since he is most likely undiagnosed, he probably sees it as his own fault.

Josh’s Positive Traits

When he’s so often looked down upon, I feel like it’s important to have a little segment all about the good things in Josh that’d hard to notice.

Creativity - Josh is actually very imaginative. From his desires to become a comic writer, to his eagerness during the costume contest, he’s shown a desire to create and is always full of ideas. Good ones? Maybe not. But full of ideas nonetheless.

Loyalty - Josh puts up with shit no one in the whole world should let slide. When Josh truly loves someone, like the club, he doesn’t leave them. It may be partially caused by his follower tendencies, but he’ll stick by and defend his friends in any situation. Even when he swears he’s leaving for good, like when he daydreams of shooting his friends in the head, or claims the end of the Eltingville Club in the pilot, he always comes back.

Attention to Detail/Ingenuity - Josh is the type to notice things no one else notices, which often comes in handy, like during the trivia-off and how he managed to make the stash of collectibles in toy stores for the club. It’s an important skill, especially when the rest of the club doesn’t pay as much attention is he does. He tends to take the long way when solving problems, so this attention to detail often means coming up with unique solutions to difficult problems.

Honesty - Josh says what he means, which is real as fuck. Saying he’s gonna piss his pants in excitement is not only humorously blunt but also goes to show that he’s not gonna hide what he thinks or how he feels for anyone. The type of friend you go to when you want someone to tell you how it is and not sugarcoat it.

——

Yeah that’s all I’ve got for now. Too many thoughts and too little words I may explode. I just wanna squish him