#when together things can go down hill

[autisticlee]

I need a friend (or maybe actually a life partner) thats super consistent/scheduled, not flaky, probably not disabled with unpredictable flare ups/energy issues, someone with energy who can plan and get stuff done. because I cannot do it myself. I need someone very close who is like this so they can help me do things I want or need to do. come over in the morning to exercise like go for a walk or swim or kayak. come over to help me make food when they realize I forgot to eat. come over and help me change my bed sheets. sit with me while I work on something and keep me focused or help me get done easier. plan a time to hang out or go somewhere and be here at that exact time instead of forgetting or canceling.

I NEED consistency in my life. I cannot provide it for myself. I know there's people out there who are like this. the autism in me craves it. but the adhd in me rejects it and always wins no matter how hard I try. having unpredictable physical flare ups doesn't help. trying doesn't do anything. people make it clear to me that it doesn't look like I try at all. that proves how useless trying has been. I need an external force that is beyond my control. alarms and reminders are in my control so they never work. I can't be consistent with myself and flake out on myself, beyond my control. but when it comes to other people, i'll push through and stick to things for their sake. I need a separate entity that has more control over the situation. someone to do with me and not just "remind" me. but also someone that won't push me too hard or let me push myself too hard. remind me to stop and drink/eat. don't let me push through pain. remind me it's ok to rest. etc.

but finding consistent people is so hard. I can't seem to do it. I only find and attract flaky, inconsistent people. I don't know what i'm supposed to do about it. they want me to be their consistent, nonflaky friend that they can flake out on. i'm told i'm always there for them whenever they need me, and they appreciate it. but I can never say the same about them.

no one wants to help me or "hold my hand" mostly because they can't even help themsleves and expect me to do everything for them, but also people who could help just dont like or care about me enough. i'm a burden to people who don't care or value me enough. I need someone to magically care so much about me that they enjoy being my solid pillar of consistency, support, and companionship. they wake up and WANT to see me immediately, so they come over and wake me up to make breakfast and go for a walk and do chores at their house together and etc.

you can't just wait and they will show up like a pokemon you can catch and turn into your loyal companion. you can't just make someone like you. but I don't know how to make anyone like me/find people who like me for who I am and don't have the energy and spoons endlessly sort through everyone in the world for the chance of finding one i also like and feel comfortable with. I need a person that either doesn't cost energy to interact with or somehow gives energy. that'd so hard to find.

I do try, though. but it takes at least a month or two to recover from the energy and effort it takes to reach out to a single person, especially since it's me doing most of the work. so the process is slow and is wasting my life away. I don't care about the possible "one day" because i'm struggling NOW. thinking about "one day" hasn't helped improve my life one but over the past 15 years or more, i've been told "one day"

it seems to be all about either luck or being privileged to have the energy and right personality to attract the right people. I have none of those things. so I just continue to struggle to exist within my own chaos alone. merely barely surviving and not at all living.

[msommers]

ok work is done and i still think jorina dropping an entire confession on aleksi before the biggest fight they've ever been part of is good and funny bc she'd want to take it back immediately. right as the words were leaving her mouth. and i think it's fun when jorina's dying from being vulnerable

[inbabylontheywept]

i once accidentally dated someone for a few months. its very difficult to explain how this happened, but the gist is that i thought we were hanging out, and she thought we were on dates, and it was just a very painfully highschool thing.

she was a little bit confused that i hadnt tried to pull any moves, at all, even a little. like, didnt even try holding hands because, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating.

so, halloween rolled around, and she thought, you know, why wait for destiny, when you can grab it? so she hit me with a clue by four.

babylon, she said. babylon. my mom's gonna be out of town on halloween, and im gonna have the house to myself, and it's going to be kind of lonely. would you like to come to my house and watch scary movies with me?

you know, kind of a netflix and chill thing. except, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating. also autism. so i took it at face value and said: oh! yeah! thatd be fun! and she thought she got her point across, but she didnt and it was a mess.

skip forward to halloween: my family has a block party every year, right? and at that point i was too old to really trick or treat, but we still wore costumes for our role in the block party, which in my case, was handing out cotton candy. so i took the first shift, and my costume was this homemade abomination minion thing. i had full yellow body paint, and goggles, and a bald cap, and overalls. the kids who saw it were like, uh, hm. overly realistic minion. and adults were like, oh, some kind of hills have eyes hillbilly with jaundice. very scary.

(it was not my best costume.)

my little brother swapped me out for second shift, and i was getting ready to change out to head to her house when i was like: no, she'll get a real kick out of this. this is one of the worst things i have ever worn. so i kept it on and just brought a change of clothes thinking i could shower real quick and change at her place after she saw my nightmare getup.

so i left after that, got there, knocked on her door, and she said come on in. so i went in, and there was this very long hall with an abrupt right turn into her living room where the tv was, and i went down the hall, and i made the turn, and my field of view went from beige drywal to her, on the couch, naked. naked in the paint me like one of your french girls pose. super naked.

i panicked. this was my first time seeing a real person like, full on sex naked,which is a totally different beast from other kinds of naked. you see one kind of naked and you think yeah, im ready for all the kinds of naked, but you arent. i wasnt at least. i really wasn't.

so my brain crashed to BIOS. she also crashed to BIOS, but for different reasons. of all the ways this could have turned me, having me show up in yellow body paint and overalls was pretty pretty low down the list.

so we sat there a while, and you know, she wasn't getting any less naked, which really wasn't helping me get my brain sorted out. it really wasnt much of a surprise when she got her bearings first and started asking questions.

"babylon," she said. "babylon. what are you wearing?"

and i was like, kind of rebooted, but i was nowhere near full functionality, so symbolic language wasnt loaded in yet. i had nothing running but my trusty autism.exe, so i said

"overalls"

and she looked at me like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked at her like she was the first naked person i had seen in real life who got naked specifically for me, and my upper level cognitive process went: "listen man, we are not going to get our shit together as long as 80% of your brain power is devoted to not blinking. you gotta get out of here."

and if id communicated that, maybe things would have been less of a mess, but instead i just kind of turned around and walked back to my car. i figured i could drive a few loops around the block, get my brain in order, and figure out what the hell we were gonna do.

the only thing i had said to her since arriving was, again, overalls.

first loop around, i was like: oh god fucking damnit. oh shit. oh shit. shes gonna get like, an eating disorder from this. oh no.

second loop around i was like: oh NOOOOO oh WHAT THE FUCK oh SWEET JESUS PLEASE. i dont wanna go back man. i just wanna bury this and forget about it. please. please. let this bitter cup pass from my lips.

and after my third loop, i went and i knocked on her door again.

she answered it this time, and i counted my lucky stars that she'd changed into some pajamas. she was all teary eyed which was the saddest thing ever, and we sat down in her kitchen and talked. it was pretty bad - i figured out we'd been dating, and she figured out that trying to jump from home plate to 3rd base is considered ballsy in baseball, least of all dating. no real winners there. and i can remember after all that, we sat there a bit a bit longer, just steadying ourselves, and i was like "well, im actually really glad we figured that out. guess i'll see you at school tomorow' and she said "WAIT. wait."

"lets watch shrek 2."

so we did and it was horrible. we did not look at each other. we did not say a word. we just sat in stony silence, while shrek 2 played in the background, and when it was done we shook hands. i think we might have been able to salvage that as a friendship if it hadnt been for shrek. as it was she turned white as a sheet and ran away every time she even got a glimpse of me at school, and that summer she moved to a new state to live with her dad. all her friends said she moved just so she wouldn't have to go to school with me anymore, and i dont actually think they were lying.

every time i hear relationship counselors talk about how important communication is, and i'm tempted to roll my eyes, i look back and go, alright. alright. theres probably some poor bastard, somewhere in the world, who doesnt even know that hes married.

and god help him when he figures it out.

other bad dating story here.

[arolesbianism]

I've been digging up some one of my most neglected stories recently and I'm finally actually developing the rest of the cast after like what? 7 or 8 years or smth? I genuinely don't know when I first thought up Lace but she's been floating at the edge of my mind since then as my token true timeloop guy as opposed to Butters who doesn't rly count because the quote unquote timeloop was entirely within their control and only was a continuous loop because they kept consciously trying again and again. Lace on the other hand. Legitimately 100% powerless in her timeloop situation, as in there was quite literally Nothing she could do to end the loops herself. Some gods just threw her in a 50 year timeloop without even doing the bare minimum of telling her first and she just sorta had to live with that until it from her perspective abruptly stopped leaving her to deal with the fallout of everything she went through now that she's suddenly being forced to live a real life again. And as fun as all of that is it has been very stagnated for years because there is in fact a story and world that exists outside of and around this one plot that matter quite a bit and that I have been refusing to properly work on until now lol.

[evieelyzabethh]

"glue song"

✭"don't forget to kiss me or else you'll have to miss me"✭ ~ How Arcane characters show affection headcannons {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw ☞slightly pervy jayce (you can't pry him from my cold dead hands), fluff

♞Vi♞

♞Vi kisses like she is starving, and you are the first morsel of food she can get her hands on. Like she is drowning, and you are her first breath of air. It's not just desperate and hungry, but there's also a thankfulness to it. Thank you for sticking with her, thank you for being so patient with her, thank you for loving her. Vi doesn't do anything half-assedly, especially not kissing her pretty girlfriend. It's probably her favorite form of affection because it's so versatile. It doesn't have to lead to the bed if neither of you want it to, sometimes it's just on the couch, you sat in between her large thighs, positively falling into her.

♞Her favorite place to kiss you would be on your lips as she holds you chin in her rough hands. She would kiss you thoroughly and deeply, her tongue languidly kissing your own without a rush or care in the world. She is quite prone to getting overwhelmed herself, squeezing the air from both of your lungs and having the nerve to pout at you when you pull away. On her messier days, she leaves a string of spit behind, but she's always kind enough to wipe it away with a few swipes of her thumb. With every inch you pull back she leans in a mile more, chasing you as you try to catch your breath and when she does pin you down, she holds you impossibly close so you can't escape again until she's had her fill. Even then, she holds you in her large arms and tangles your limbs together, at one point sliding her hand beneath your shirt just to lay it on your tummy and feel it move as you breath.

♞Vi is also secretly a space heater. She runs incredibly hot and because of this, sleeps naked and is always down to give you her jacket. It just makes sense in her mind, seeing her clothing wrapped around you. She likes sharing most things; oddly specifically, drinks. She's gross and thinks it's hot that you're technically swapping spit. When it comes to alcohol, especially if you're not a big drinker, both of you will nurse off the same drink, her tipping your head back and pouring it into your mouth when you get a bit too tipsy to do so yourself without spilling.

♞Her go to pet name is 'pretty' and I will die on this hill. It's the thing that defines you for her. She's an idiot and a loser and she knows there's more to you than just how you look, but she just can't help it that whenever she sees you, all her reptile brain can think is 'pretty'. She absolutely abuses it, too. Besides this, I also think she would use those sleazy kinda bar pet names, like sweets or babydoll. Not in a creepy sleazy way, but that is just realistically what she would've been hearing for terms of endearment.

♞Slight side tangent, in a modern AU she is definitely one of those mascs that gets a hold to some Calvin Klein boxers and takes advantage of every opportunity possible to show the waistband off. Part of it is just her showing affection, even if you can reach tall shelves on your own, she still insists on getting the items for you. This carriers over into many things, like twisting open pickle jars or opening your soda cans if you're someone into longer nails. While she isn't as good with building things as Jinx, I think she would definitely be able to manage putting together the furniture in your shared home. Would it take all day? Well, yes! But you chose to make the best out of it and fuck on top of the furniture to test its sturdiness and congratulate your girlfriend on a job well done.

♞On the topic of nails in a modern AU, she would love a partner who gets them done absolutely goes feral if you get them customized to her liking, like coloring them after her eyes or hair or sneaking her name in there somewhere. She feels like she's made it in life when she can pay to get them done. It seems like a selfless action, but it would be a lie to say she gets nothing out of it. The scratch mark you leave on her back after break her brain a little.

★Ekko★

★Ekko loves cooking for his girlfriend! I feel like that would definitely be his main love language along with quality time. As stated before, you two would spend a lot of time in his kitchen, often times with some source of music providing a background noise to the nonsense that you concoct together, occasionally slow dancing while there's time to kill while waiting for something to finish in the oven. Food fights may occasionally occur, but he does a thorough job of licking you clean after. He claims he 'can't let good food go to waste'.

★He would also have a sketchbook absolutely full of you. You can tell when a new edition is about to be added as well. Ekko isn't loud, but he isn't quiet either. His foot is always tapping, he's usually humming something, he always has something to keep his hands busy. He's hardly ever still, except for those moments when you fully wash over him. Sometimes the lighting is exceptionally beautiful, sometimes it's in appreciation of how the wind moves the world around you, and some moments are just so breathtaking beautiful he has to take a moment to go silent, still, and stare. Sometimes he'll just tell you to be in his presence and be pretty so he can properly commit you to paint and commemorate you forever in oils and brush strokes. He's not above nude paintings, though those strokes look and feel much different.

★Ekko is the CEO of quick kisses. He's a busy guy!! He's running an entire commune. He makes the absolute most out of moments when you have the world to yourselves, but most of what you receive are quick passing kisses on your cheeks or the corner of your mouth. He misses on purpose because he simply does not believe in starting things he doesn't have the time to finish. For this reason, I don't think he'd be a big quickie guy. A kiss can easily just be a kiss, but sex is not something meant to be done in 5 minutes.

★Ekko's favorite place to kiss you would also be your lips. He's a romantic, what can I say!!! At the end of every day, you ask each other how your day was after you've both showered and gotten comfy. You both sit on his bed, set beside each other, your legs haphazardly laid over his as he casually massages your thigh. Sometimes you're both a bit too tired and aren't listening that hard, the occasional tidbit catching your attention making either of you sit straight and get closer until eventually you laid on top of him, both of you half asleep. No matter how much energy either of you has, a good night kiss is to be had. When Ekko doesn't need to be quick, he is impossibly slow. He has all the time and then some.

★Not only does he demand a good night kiss, but a good morning kiss to. He gets pouty without it. And sassy. He tells Scar, very loudly so that everyone can hear him, that you hate and don't love him anymore and he is just so deeply hurt that you would let your boyfriend, you're one true love, leave the house without kissing him goodbye and doesn't shut up about it until he gets his goddamn kiss.

★He loves picking out your outfits. He prides himself on the way he dresses and out of everyone, I think Ekko has the most domestic skills. I've already discussed how well he cooks, but I wouldn't be surprised if he also knew his way around a needle and thread. He is not just wearing any clothes; he has a sense of style that he is very proud of. This being said, he loves going shopping with you in a modern AU and he loves when you eventually get comfortable enough to not retreat into the bathroom when changing from outfit to outfit. He's the one making you do the little spin so he can appreciate the outfit from all angles.

★As far as pet names go, I think Ekko would keep it simple with "babe" or "baby" for more casual usages. I also think he would be fond of "my girl" and expects it from you in return because yes he is "your boy" and yes you are "his girl" and yes he loves you very very much. He wouldn't be a stranger to "my love", especially in the mornings or at night when your face is the first and last thing he sees when he closes his eyes. It makes him feel extra sappy.

❂Jayce❂

❂He is all over you at all times of the day omg. I feel like of everyone, Jayce would be the clingiest. This isn't to say he's attached to you at the hip, but his favorite part of the day is getting to go home to you. You're cooking and there he is sitting on the counter yapping about Hextech or something. You're taking a shower and he wants to join. And it's not just a proximity thing, it's also a touchy thing. Any reason or way he can find to touch you, he is taking it. He doesn't care if it's pathetic, dammit, he wants to be held.

❂Jayce would absolutely thrive in a modern AU. He would be the guy whose social media page are all posts about his girlfriend and does he just love to show you off. He would spoil you so good, but rather than buying anything you wanted like Mel would, I think he would also really enjoy making you presents. This isn't to say he doesn't enjoy buying you things, one of your staple pieces of jewelry is the gold anklet he bought with his initials on it.

❂Physical touch is easily his love language but he cannot handle all that, or rather, he freezes in situations where you initiate it. His hands tend to naturally find your waist and will occasionally, if he's feeling bold enough, slip down to your ass, but one time when it was freezing out, you offered your tits as handwarmers and he got a nosebleed. Jayce is definitely an undercover perv but due to never having a girlfriend before and being completely foreign with the concept that he doesn't need to hide how badly he wants to jump your bones at nearly all hours of the day, he freezes when it comes to you initiating contact.

❂He would definitely be the type to get you teddy bears and flowers just whenever. It's never with any rhyme or reason and it happens rather sporadically, just when he is out and about for any reason and thinks of you and wants to bring you something home. He thinks of you a lot, actually. Mel and Viktor love the both of you, but sometimes he goes a bit overboard when it comes to talking about you. This being said, he jumps at any opportunity to show you off. He loves going to gala's because he likes seeing you in pretty clothes and hanging off his arm. He also likes kissing you in public, even if no one's paying attention. He is well versed in the art of delayed gratification and loves getting the both of you riled up knowing full well he does not have the balls to actually fuck you with people around (he gets loud and is very well aware of this)

❂ Jayce's absolute favorite place to kiss you is your neck. He usually starts with your lips, large hands cupping your cheeks and soft lips moving over yours until he gets more antsy. His hands travel from your cheek to your neck then begin to creep under your clothes to grab and knead at your warm skin. Then he would move down your face, peppering kisses across your lips, down your jaw, then down you neck, panting as he goes along and his hands getting rougher as he tries to remain composed. He stops there for a moment, breath fanning over skin that is now slightly red from his canines nipping you and his fresh stubble scratching the area, reminding himself to be gentle and not take more than he's given. He pleads with you, his own cheeks flushed from the heat of the movement as he mutters out his "please...". He's begged you time and time again to not make him verbalize exactly what he wants, but you are relentless. At least he has the manners to ask sweetly beforehand.

❂He is the type to lay right on top of you. After you've gotten comfy in your bed, thrown on your pajama's, maybe are doing a bit of light reading before bed, he comes around to disturb your peace and lay himself right on top of you, smothering you with kisses while he lays there. He eventually moves out of his starfish position to lay his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your torse. He's like a giant, weighted, warm teddy bear

❂One of his go-to pet names would be 'baby', but only when it just the two of you. He is also quite fond of 'gorgeous' and he always has a stupid smirk on his face when he says it. His favorite would be 'sweetheart'. Slightly off topic, he would be the first to jump the gun and start calling you his wife. Especially to council members that are annoying him and taking up time he'd rather be spending with you, he is very quick to pull a "Sorry, gotta get home to my wife." He bought to matching rings for your one-year anniversary to sell the story better.

☽Viktor☾

☽As far as physical affection goes, I think he would be the least touchy. I think the touches would be concentrated on your face, lazily tracing all of your features, marking where your cheeks sink below your cheek bones, the divot between your chin and lips, and where your face is most pronounced. While he wouldn't call himself an artist, he could probably mold your face in clay from the number of times his feather light fingers have caressed every inch of it. He's utterly entranced by it. His mind often wanders while listening to you speak, eyes roaming from your lips and taking note of them in proportion to your eyes, getting lost in the color of them until his eyes flit to your nose and the way your nostrils slightly flare out. It's very mechanical, but that's just the way his brain works.

☽Less of a hugger but he does like to keep his arms around you. Especially on date nights when you're cuddled up on your couch, a myriad of snacks in between the two of you, your head resting on his shoulder while he tries to hide his snores as he falls in and out of consciousness. You accuse of him trying to go to sleep and he tells you he was just "resting his eyes".

☽He would make you all the trinkets in the world. Many of them start as failed experiments of his or scraps from projects past that need to be repurposed, but the thought is always there. He hates to waste and there's really no need to when he has a girlfriend he can make gifts for. Your vanity is full of pretty side projects, decorative boxes for your makeup, ornate music boxes, tea sets and tiny figurines. Your desk would be full of special tchotchkes.

☽Speaking of tchotchkes, I think that would be one of his playful nicknames for you. It sounds absolutely delectable in his accent. I think he would also go for the classier terms of endearment such as 'dear', 'love', 'darling' as well as variations of them in his mother tongue. He would love teaching you his native language, both as a way to bond even more but also to make sure he never loses it.

☽He would also be big on compliments. He is probably your number one supporter, but not in the loud sports fan with a huge foam finger kinda way, but in a quieter more personal way. He is extremely confident in you and your abilities as well as being endlessly proud of everything you do. He is in complete awe of you, and he tells you as such. It is impossible to feel bad about yourself in his presence, he keeps a mental rolodex of every accomplishment of yours to combat any sort of negative self-talk.

☽Not a big PDA guy. He would rather throw himself out of a window than suck face with you in Jayce's presence. He is a big hand-holder which is disastrous when doing it while walking around because neither one of you can walk straight to save your life. It's not even an issue with his leg because you do it too. You bump into each other all the time, though in the winter it is more often on purpose to keep warm.

☽Viktor's favorite place to kiss you is on your forehead. It's simple and it's sweet and more often than not what he can get away with the most. With how much time he spends in the lab, he has grown to deeply appreciate those quiet moments with you, holding your hand under the table as he works in the low light, papers rustling as he tries to find the specific formula he's looking for. Jayce is across the table, snoring loud enough to keep the both of you awake. You look like you want to kiss him, he can feel your gaze on his lips as your fingers tangle through his hair and he turns to you and gives you a small smile then a sweet kiss on your forehead. When he pulls away, he leans into you and you sit there for a moment, nose to nose. "Just a few moments, love, I'm almost done." You giggle through tiredness. "It won't be a few moments, Vik." And he appreciates your understanding more than most things in the world. "No, it won't. But I'll try to make it quick.", he promises and then plants another kiss on you

☽He really likes reading with you, or just doing activities that allow the both of you to be doing something together without necessarily needing to talk. It doesn't even have to be something he's good at, it could be a painting session, or a pottery lesson, and he would be down. He would also be the type to try and pick up on your hobbies. You like to crochet; he's also picking up a crochet needle to try and work alongside you. And he's not too proud to ask for help, he likes a relationship where both parties are constantly learning and exploring.

☼Mel☼

☼Mel is definitely the type to spoil you. She has so much money and is not afraid to use it. You really like that dress you saw while window shopping? She's already ordered it to be tailored to your exact size. You like that bracelet? You wake up to it in a box on your nightstand the next morning and spot her wearing a matching piece later on that day. It's not to try and buy your love, she just thinks you deserve the world, and if she could buy it, it would be your wedding present.

☼Mel love holding hands at all times and specifically is the type to rub the skin between your pointer finger and thumb. Her skin would also be so soft, touching her feels like touching smooth velvet. She also likes to kiss your knuckles and the inside of your wrist before letting go, the mark her lipstick feeling like a heavy imprint of her lips.

☼She is also very fond of kissing your nose. She thinks 'booping' you with her finger is childish, but she is not above a little peck on the nose, which is the abridged version of her usual ritual of pecking your forehead, nose, and lips. Those kisses are usually taken in the morning when you go your separate ways for the day, particularly those that she knows will be long and tedious. She likes to think she takes part of you with her when she does it. She misses your intellect, she misses the silent indicators of your presence, she misses how you feel. Some days, she greatly yearns to return to you. She feels like a physical weight is lifted off her back and she can actually breathe.

☼She loves spending wash days with you. Those locs take hours and you are there right by her side, gossiping and discussing everything and nothing while royal hairdressers take down or retwist that beautiful head of hair. It's even better if you're the one doing it for her. She likes the feeling of your fingers in her scalp, massaging out the wrinkles in her brain as she goes boneless in between your legs. I, unfortunately, do not think she could return the favor. She is like basically royalty; her whole life someone was likely doing it for her. She would try and learn!! It would just take a little bit.

☼I do think she would be very good at doing your makeup. She has the base routine DOWN and usually likes to do simpler eye looks, though she can do whatever you request of her. All hell breaks loose when it comes time to do lips, and her gloss would end up all over your face as she is overcome with the unabating urge to leave glossy kiss marks all over your face . You would return the favor, whatever pigmented shade you previously wore landing all over her flawless skin, and she would savor the moment with a photo she keeps in her journal

☼In a modern AU, I think she would be really good at carnival games. I can't explain it, she just would. She's not the biggest fan carnivals and fairs as they're a bit too loud and crowded for her taste, but if you wanted to go, she certainly would never say no to you. While I think Vi would try very hard to beat them only to fail, Mel would be unexplainably good at them and win you tons of prizes.

☼Mel carries a purse on her at all times and has absolutely everything in there. Pads, tampons, ibuprofen, lip gloss, hand sanitizer, wet wipes, anything you could possibly need is in that bag of hers. She also carries the big bag so you only have to carry around outfit purses than can barely handle a handful of coins. She also loves matching outfits with you!!! You probably own so many matching outfits, matching pjs, matching workout sets, as well as multiple items of clothing that are the exact same except for sizing.

☼She would be another one who constantly talks about her partner, albeit, in a much smoother way than Jayce does. Jayce jumps at every opportunity to bring you up in conversation, it's always flows naturally with Mel but she also brags far more. It's always, "That's great but my girlfriend..." or finding ways to talk about big accomplishments knowing damn well no one else can compete. See her girlfriend has a doctorate, or her girlfriend won this prestigious award, or her girlfriend was the first to do this...what were you saying about your wife though???

☼As for pet names, I think Mel would be another person who uses "my love" or "my dear" but I also think she'd be the type to refer to you as "princess". Once again, coming from royalty, she treats you as such, and that also comes down to how she refers to you. She also just likes calling you by name, usually in her sappier moments followed by her last name She can't get enough of the way it sounds rolling off her tongue and the two of you together just sounds perfect.

[soft-sunbird]

A post for Hilda

When I was a kid, I had lots of room to run around outside. It was a beautiful place to live. Running from one side of the property to the other would take you probably about a minute. There was plenty of grass, plenty of trees, plenty of wildlife. I couldn't ask for better.

Hilda, pregnant with her firstborn child, has been lying awake all night; fretting over the slow trickle of the donations that just barely keep her alive. Knowing that the water is contaminated and the little food she is lucky enough to eat is insufficient nutrition for the life kindling inside her, no doubt the little one feels her stress already.

When I was a kid, we had a few plastic barrels lying around, and we had enormous fun kicking them down the slope to watch them roll away. We'd chase them all the way down to the bottom of the hill, and then push them back up again. Push, push, push. And then we could do it all over again.

It's a great and daunting thing to ask for help. Yet Hilda has braved this uncomfortable, exhausting charade for days upon days upon months upon months, and is still struggling. She needs to eat! She needs to be warm and healthy and safe! She needs to know that there are good, kind people in the world who care what happens to her. She needs our support. Today, tomorrow, and the day after that. Every day until she can say, "Thank you. I am okay now."

Hilda, sister I didn't know I had, I hope you can rest a little easier soon. I hope these words stir the hearts of our community and they push the barrel with me. Every pair of hands that pushes this barrel moves it a little further up the hill to where it needs to go, and I promise, when we're done, we can admire the view together.

Follow @hildanasr1 and maybe frigidwife and veryveryvomit too (they care about her just as much as I do) Vets: gaza-evacuation-funds #6 | bilal-salah0 | khanger | ana-bananya | a-shade-of-blue | dlxxv-vetted-donations

[bi-writes]

MOB who has to stay with Johnny at his house while Simon is away on a solo mission? Like as a preventive measure, Simon has them both together in case soemthing happens to him while he’s away?

mail-order bride

"i...simon, i just don't--"

"just do it," simon murmurs. you quiet immediately, a little caught off-guard. simon has never interrupted you; even when you're a babbling mess, simon lets you finish your garbled sentences. he waits until your voice quiets, until your mouth closes, before he ever speaks to you, but this time, his tone is firm, and there is no room for interpretation. when you meet his eyes, simon is more than serious. "i don't ask ya for anythin', swee'eart. but this..." he reaches out for you, and you step closer instinctively, and when he cups your face in both hands, you can't help but melt. he leans his forehead against yours, and you close your eyes when you see the very subtle tremble of his lips. "do this fer me. only thing i'll ever ask of ya. i swear it."

you take a deep breath to center yourself. one of his hands wraps around the back of your neck, pulling you just that much closer, and you wait until your lips brush against his before you answer him.

"i...i have to go?"

"few days. tha's it."

"well, i...well, okay."

it's quiet up north. the weather dampens the entire coastline, what you can see of it, and the air tastes like salt. it was in your mouth as soon as you stepped off the train, and it only got stronger the closer you got to the cottage.

as soon as you step out of the car, you're greeted by the most quaint little house on a hill. there's vines climbing up the sides of it, wrapping around wooden structures and carving out a perfectly quaint home tucked amongst scottish greenery. it's breathtaking here; it's so quiet, and the way that you're allowed to breathe up here is unlike anywhere else you've ever been.

the meows coming from your backpack are the only thing that bring you back to earth.

"just inside, lass," a low voice calls behind you. "supper's 'bout ready now."

when johnny closes the door behind you, you're mesmerized by the coziness inside. his house is filled with warmth. there's plaid curtains pulled back from a stained-glass window, allowing in soft colors of light. the couches in his living room have throw pillows and blankets of mismatched linen and velvet, and his walls are filled with pictures and hanging green plants. there's candles burning, and the television is still playing some reruns of old rugby games.

the wood detail is exquisite. the staircase has little carvings of scottish motifs and flowers, winding up another wall of photos. the pictures are old and new, all of laughing people with johnny's big smile or his bright blue eyes or wearing the same plaid pattern as the fabric that you saw hanging in the closet.

a green kettle. a cross above the mantle with a psalm printed on it. a sketch on the coffee table (a skull, with a stub of a charcoal pencil still laying over it). rosaries hanging over a wedding photo with johnny in the background, holding up bunny ears. a wooden bowl of oranges (and oranges only).

"said ye'd be 'ere fer some time, tha' ye like ta bake. got some things fer ye at the shops."

you set your backpack down, opening the clear window of it, and two little cats hop out immediately. johnny raises a brow as he makes eye contact immediately with the orange tabby, a wicked grin coming over his face.

"i remember ye, ye little shite."

"what?" you laugh, and johnny shakes his head.

"nothin'."

it's late when he notices you looking out the window. the cats are curled up on opposite ends of the couch, in deep sleep after johnny gave them each a salmon dinner (and you pretended not to notice seeing the extensive recipe sheet that only your husband could have made on his phone). your eyes are on the sky; you can see so much of it here, twinkly stars and all.

"'m sorry ye have ta be here," johnny says lowly, soft enough that you aren't startled. you don't look away from the window, leaning your chin on the edge of the couch as you wonder if simon is looking at the same star you can't seem to lose. it's brighter than the rest, and it flickers to a rhythm that feels oddly comforting.

"it's not your fault, johnny," you assure him softly, and you turn away from the window finally to find him seated on the carpet, scratching the orange cat behind the ears. "he wouldn't...he wouldn't take no for an answer. not...not this time."

you frown a little, smoothing your right hand over your left, and your heart drops a little in your chest when the sparkle of your wedding ring matches the sparkle of your star.

"i've been staying home alone all this time," you continue, shaking your head. "and all of the sudden...a-all of the sudden he doesn't trust me?"

"oh, love..." johnny sighs, clicking his tongue. "tha' is...'s nae wot it is, i swear it."

"i...it's not...it's not me, right?" you ask in a whisper, meeting his eyes finally. "simon and i...w-we're doing so well..."

the expression that passes over his face is a sad one. it unnerves you to see it; johnny is someone that just isn't meant to be sad. his house is filled with so much love and so much life, and you swear you don't even recognize him anymore because he's void of a smile altogether.

"ye seen the pictures?"

you know immediately what johnny is talking about. you saw them the very first night you stayed in your shared home. across your house, there are a few picture frames covered with fabric or face-down on whichever surface they rest on. when you glimpsed at them, you peeked behind the curtain of a life that simon has that you don't know. even now, you have never felt strong enough to ask him about them.

it isn't because you think simon won't tell you; you're afraid to ask. you're afraid of who they are, what they are to him, and why he's never told you their names or introduced them to you. they exist in a separate place, and you don't know why, and when you saw him holding that baby--

you shake your head finally.

"i...i can't."

johnny hums low, looking down. he smooths his hands down his jeans.

"neither can he."

you close your eyes, but not fast enough. there's a few tears that fall down the curve of your cheek.

"when...when did--?"

"will be another year in a few days."

your lip shakes, and you take in a stuttered breath. you did not believe it possible to love simon any more than you already do, but it aches, that place in your chest that is reserved just for him. it hurts, in the worst and most incredible way, and you never want him to know another day without hearing you tell him how much you love him.

when simon comes to get you, just a week later, you're sitting under a sycamore tree at sunset. it's never been more quiet inside of your head, and when he takes a seat beside you, you say nothing for a few minutes.

simon thinks maybe you're angry for a moment, but then your hand reaches over to take his, and then you're scooting closer, until you drape yourself over his arm and bury your face into the side of his neck.

"i'm not going anywhere," you whisper, and simon turns his head slightly.

"wot's tha', love?"

"i'm not going anywhere, simon," you say again, and when he looks at you finally, you squeeze his hand. "wherever...wherever you want me to go...i'll go. wherever you want me to stay, i-i'll stay there."

when he kisses you, it's soft, and it's slow, and he feels faraway and so close all at once. you put your hands around his neck, along the back of his head, anything to get him closer, to feel more of him, but it isn't enough.

it won't be enough. not until simon devours you whole. not until you bite into him and never let go. not until beginning of you and the end of him are indistinguishable.

not until i make the time before us obsolete and the time after us endless.

when you are home, simon watches from the hallway as you pick up a picture frame on the dresser. it's been facedown there since he moved in, and touching it has always felt like it burns him. he's frozen as you flip it face-up, standing it back up. when he sees himself, many years younger, smiling, happy, holding a chubby baby with bright eyes and blonde hair, he's surprised his insides don't burst immediately.

he never thought he would be able to look at them again. he never thought he'd be able to see their faces without seeing the warped versions of them, the mirrors of them that he never believed could be real. he always thought if he looked at them again, he'd go blind--that he'd carve out his own eyes just to forget what was left of them.

but nothing remains. they're memories, beautiful ones, and he'd forgotten that his nephew even had dimples.

the photos get lost amongst the rest. they blend in, like they were meant to be, tucked between the warm ones of your smile and the orange cat standing on simon's shoulders.

there is nothing more intoxicating than the woman that simon has chosen to love. you make the worst of his mind feel afraid; the thoughts that threaten to upend him, they are retreating, withering away from the things that he thinks about now that you remain. the tendrils of you are everywhere; you have latched onto him like nothing ever has, and he will never be rid of this feeling. of you.

simon will not fight reality any longer. he won't tell himself fate is nothing but proof that god is unforgiving. god isn't real, you are, and whatever came before you was the road he had to follow to get to you.

and simon didn't just follow; he fucking crawled. he dug his hands into the stone, bleeding fingernails and all, and he kept going even when his legs didn't work and his mind told him there was nothing there ahead of him. it was not resilience. it was not a man made of metal or steel or something heroic or a miracle.

simon is just a man, and he is weak, but as he comes up behind you and breathes you in, he realizes now that he has known you his entire life. you are tethered by something that he can't see. you are connected by something invisible.

when you tuck yourself into bed that night, the pictures are still upright, the ones on the wall still uncovered. you fall asleep before him, like always, and simon cradles your head to his chest as his eyes find the window.

a star sparkles. it's the last thing he sees before he falls asleep beside you.

[silkentine]

Wha--?! Silk finally finished her fem Zoro design after (checks notes) literally 6 months since she made the canvas in procreate?

I'll break down design thoughts and share some fun bonus pics under the cut:

I LOVE long hair on Zoro, I think that was the first change I wanted to implement. Zoro in canon actually has a really interesting relationship with gender dynamics which (if for some reason you're reading this and you haven't watched One Piece) can seem out of left field for the "dumb brute" character. His rivalry with and reverence for Kuina suggests he doesn't adhere to the idea that women are weaker than men. Later on, however, during his confrontation with Monet and Tashigi during Punk Hazard, his hesitation to slash her down reveals that he's subconsciously over-protective of women because he thinks they're inherently weaker. I actually don't have any problem with this character trait, I think it makes him feel more real as a person and he obviously gets shit-talked enough about it in the story itself. But how did I want to reflect these beliefs if Zoro had been born a woman? Easy: internalized misogyny and applying value to herself via her appearance.

My version of Zoro grew up wanting to fight with swords but her only chance of entering the dojo was to work under the proprietress, Lady Shimotsuki to maintain the property, cook meals for the male students, and eventually be a good wife to the current heir, Kuina. She learns that, to get what she wants, she must be the ideal woman, even if she stays up all night training swordsmanship with Kuina when she isn't supposed to. He treats her love for swordplay seriously and treats her like an equal, which sparks a bond between them and eventually leads to Zoro's goal of becoming the world's greatest swordsman after his sudden, accidental death.

After years of intense training (now that Lady Shimotsuki admits that she'll need a new heir and Zoro is the closest thing she has) Zoro's finally old enough to leave and begin her journey. She starts letting go of the idea that she has to look pulled together to be taken seriously because she can just kill anyone who looks down on her. Her clothing falls into disrepair, she wears outfits that help her move in combat, and she starts tossing her hair up into messy, knotted buns under her bandana. Even so, she keeps her hair long like rolling hills of grass. (At least during pre-timeskip. She lops off her hair to prove to Mihawk that she's serious about being trained.)

I've put her in a thin sweater that she stitches (poorly) back together after her first interaction with Mihawk. (I kept one sleeve because I was inspired by the santoryuu Nami that Oda drew that one time.) I also wanted to girl-ify the ubiquitous haramaki so I picked leg warmers for her because I think they're sufficiently "dated" enough to be kinda analogous with his old man belly warmer. I also love gyaru fashion, sue me.

Here is a screenshot of her as a blonde:

And here is a sketch of her post-timeskip where she's fully embraced her butch nature:

Hubba hubba, am I right?

Check out my tag "girl piece original design" to see more of my genderbending art! Next post, I'll put all my East Blue Crew designs together! I can't believe it's taken this long but I AM SO HAPPPPPYYYYY

[devil-in-hiding]

On The Run

Pt 3

At some point, Soap and Gaz fall asleep on the couch, sprawled across one another. Ghost is laid back in one of the recliners, struggling to keep his eyes open as Price’s voice lulls him to sleep from the kitchen.

You're not sure how long the two of you have sat here. It took Price an hour to finally open his mouth. He has hardly met your eye since he’s started talking, hands clasped together on top of the table.

The ache you felt in your chest for these men worsened the longer Price spoke. Proud military men, tired of seeing the monsters they hunted get slaps on the wrist for atrocious crimes. Making plea deals with lawyers, getting one way tickets into luxury cells when they should be six feet underground.

You don’t realise Price has stopped talking till Soap snores, causing Dixon to shuffle at your feet, all four dogs scattered around the kitchen floor. You look him over, taking in the man now that all his bravado has been drained, leaving only the raw human underneath. Blue eyes darkened by years on the force and then years behind bars, forced into proximity with the very animals he and his team longed to put down. You’re looking at a man who fought for what was right and when justice wasn’t served in a way he deemed fit, he settled it.

Price is staring down at his hands, and you’re worried he’s going to hurt himself with how vigorously he rubs his hands together. You don’t think, reaching across the table and grasping one of his hands in yours, running your thumb across scarred knuckles. “Don’t do that.” You scold, and his head whips up to stare at you, eyes wide, hopeful but hesitant.

He looks down at your hand holding his, then back at you. “You’re not…?” He trails off, clearing his throat as he sits up straighter, letting your palm slip into his. You’re not sure what word he was going to use, but you shake your head.

“I’m… I’m sorry you all had to…” You don’t finish your sentence, letting it hang in the air between you. You’re shocked to see tears pool at the corner of his eyes but he’s quick to blink them away.

“You’re not horrified by us?” He asks, and you can tell he’s trying to fight his voice from shaking. You clear your throat, but gently squeeze his hand when his grip loosens.

“You have done… horrible things. Inhumane things.” You start, trying to pick your words carefully as you scoot your chair closer to his. He watches you warily, but there is no denying the growing hope in those eyes. “But I couldn’t imagine seeing what you saw everyday. Hearing the things you’ve heard, having to keep that all to yourself. Seeing… monsters you’ve spent years tracking get served the minimum sentence with a cozy cell waiting for them.” His hand starts to shake, and your heart breaks seeing how hard he’s fighting back the tears pooling in his eyes. “We never would have actually hurt you, I swear on my life. We just… Fuck we had been running for fucking hours through those god damn trees and-“ His voice cracks, and you gently run your thumb over the back of his hand. “Why are you being so nice?” He almost spits the word, but his grip on your hand tightens.

Grounding.

“You did as I asked. You told me the truth.” You mirror his words from the barn, and he barks out a wet sounding laugh before covering his face with his free hand. “And you’re happy with that truth?”

“I’m happy you decided you could trust me enough with it.” You admit softly, and he stares into your eyes, and you don’t feel the need to look away this time. “Anyone else would have gone running for the hills.” He whispers, and you can’t help but smile.

“Not many places to run to, and if I’m telling the honest truth, there are worse things than killing human filth.” You shrug, and he lets out a bewildered laugh. “You can’t mean-“

“I do though. There are people in this world that don’t deserve the freedom they have, that have ripped apart the lives of others and continue living like they didn’t single-handedly ruin someone’s entire foundation.” Your words are a little more forceful than you intended, raw. And Price catches it, sitting up a little straighter, tugging your hand closer.

“You have your own monster, don’t you pretty?” He asks seriously, and you swallow, lowering your gaze to your clasped hands.

“I think that’s a story for another night.” You whisper, and you see him nod, before realization hits, and his eyes widen.

“You’re going to let us-“

“You are going to have to show me that I am not making a mistake by letting four wanted men stay in my house.” You interrupt him, but there’s a smile on your face. The next seconds are a blur and you suddenly find this giant of a man at your feet, kneeling in front of you and holding both your hands in his. His shoulders are shaking, head bent but you hear the hitch in his breath.

“Price..” You murmur, a little nervous but you slip your hands free, slowly running your fingers through his hair, and you hear the sob that leaves him. He bunches up the loose fabric of your sweats in his fist, and you can feel his tears starting to soak through.

“You are a good person.” He chokes out, looking up at you and the look on his face has tears of your own threatening to spill. He looks exhausted, like every ounce of his energy has finally been drained, years of enduring visceral human indecency ingrained into every part of his being. And yet he is gazing at you like you are the first glimpse of the sun after week long rainstorms, constant flooding and devastation, the light breaking through the clouds to spread warmth on a new day.

“You’re still a good person too.”

Those words linger in the air.

You lose track of time as you sit there, running your fingers through his hair, this man who you’ve never met, who invited himself into your home, but has bared the darkest corners of his soul to you all in one night. Grimes had made his way over at some point, staring at Price with a concerned tilt of his head. He never did like when you cried, and you can tell he’s desperate to try and comfort this strange man in his home. He lays besides him, paws outstretched, inching forward ever so slowly.

“He doesn’t like that you’re upset.” You mumble, watching the way his eyes snap over to Grimes. “Even though I terribly upset his mama earlier?” He mutters, he and Grimes staring at one another.

“Grimes has always been a big softy. Dixon is the one who’s gonna hold a grudge.” An answering ‘boof’ comes from beside you, Dixon plopping his head back on his paws after making his stance known.

Grimes scoots forward until he can rest his big head on Price’s lap, nuzzling down and looking up at him expectantly, and Price gives you a hesitant look. You just nod, smiling gently. “You’re gonna be staying with four of them, better get yourselves acquainted.”

“What in the bloody fuck did I miss?” A drowsy voice mutters from the doorway, and Ghost stands there, taking in the sight of Price kneeling before you, still clutching your sweatpants, and you can see the downturn of his lips through his mask when he notices the dried tears on Price’s cheek.

You gently pull Price’s hands off your sweats, and he looks as though you just took away his favorite treat. “I’ll go grab some fresh blankets.” You hum, face warming when you can feel both of their gazes on your back as you walk up the stairs.

“Wait, does that mean-“ You hear Ghost start, and you’re shocked to hear it so soft, but their words are lost as you turn down the hallway. You slip into the bedroom at the end of the hall, making quick work of dusting off the dresser and small TV, gently stacking a pile of clean sheets and towels. This room already had two beds, you just hoped they were big enough for these giant oafs.

You just about scream when a pair of hands grip your waist, and you whirl around. “Price you have got to stop grabbing me now- Oh.”

It was Ghost, eyes unreadable as he stares you down, and you clear your throat, loosening your grasp just a bit but still attempting to push him off.

“You scared me, you need to stop-“

“Thank you.” He interrupts, and your eyes widen as he pulls you closer.

“I- Well you’re welcome, I couldn’t just-“

“Yes you could. You could send out right back outside, hell you could get a goddamn brigade of officers here and you would be justified for it.” He shrugs, but you frown, shaking your head.

“No. From… from what Price told me, you all made your own choices to help those the governments deem lesser than them. You helped people who have watched law officials let them down again and again.” You state firmly, wincing slightly as you feel Ghost dig his fingers into your hips. “Easy.” You scold, and he immediately eases up, but doesn’t let go of you, keeping you pressed to him and your heart skips.

“I’ll just finish-“

“Whoever divorces such a sweet little bird must have absolute shit for brains.” Ghost states, quite confidently, and you can’t stop the shocked giggle that slips past. “Absolute fuckin idiot.”

“You can’t win me over with flattery you know.” You huff, but he sees right through you, dark eyes taking in your flustered expression, and you feel heat burn your cheeks as you avoid meeting his eye.

“Mmm, we’ll see about that. Think it’ll get me pretty damn far.” He grins, and you smack his hands before pausing.

“Wait.” You mutter, prying his right hand off of you and lifting it up, inspecting.

Your teeth made a pretty gnarly imprint, already scabbing. “Ah don’t worry about that. I deserved it.”

“C’mon you big idiot, before you let that thing get infected.” You order, pushing him towards the bathroom and he lets out a loud laugh, the sound causing butterflies to seize your stomach.

“Yes ma’am.”

[crookedteethed]

18+ loss of virginity, mentions of non-con, brief smut descriptions

⋆ ★ Thinking about how the Rafe's would take your virginity. <3

Season One Rafe would so take your V card at one of the kook parties, or maybe even in the secluded rec room at the Country Club during Midsummer's. Either way, I can see you losing your virginity to him in a public place. Somewhere where his friends are too, so after he fucks you, he can immediately boost about it.

Ugh, I could see it now, his stupid hair slicked back, his suit bluer than ever, and that silly smile on his face whispering into Topper's ear: 

"Guess who I just had face down ass up on the pool table in the rec room." (Bonus points if you're the hottest girl on the island everyone's been trying to touch.) 

He'd nag you about having sex with him, especially if you'd been talking to one another for months (Not dating. Talking.) 

He would make pass after pass at you every time you'd make out with each other: His hand would sometimes snake its way underneath your skirt, and he'd press on your clothed mound with his thick fingers, or he would (very childishly) start popping you in the back with your bra strap to try to get you to take it off. He'd stopped when you went braless.

When telling season one Rafe that you were a virgin, you almost saw an uncontrollable smile creep onto his face--it's just something having ownership over ones very FIRST sexual interaction (This would be a recurring theme for him in each season.). 

But with that being said, this man would not go soft on you. 

Season Two Rafe, he's got a lot of shit on his plate: he wants to get in the good graces with his father, those stupid pouges have his gold, and he suspects that something could be wrong with him, but no one wants to listen to him. The last thing he needs is a girlfriend that won't put out.

In season two, Rafe knew you were a virgin, and he knew you'd been waiting until you had at least been together for a few months--which, surprisingly, he was okay with--as long as you two could do oral on each other--which you did. 

But one day, a violent fight between Rafe and his father broke out on a date night. 

You'd offer to reschedule the reservations you made for dinner--reschedule the whole day, but to your dismay, Rafe still wanted to go for it. 

It wasn't until after dinner when you were both sitting outside of Tanny Hill in Rafe's truck, that Rafe got himself worked up going over the events from earlier with Ward. 

It wasn't until you both were inside his house that he started complaining about other things--more evidently about you and your stupid virginity saving.

Nonetheless, you just let the boy rant because he was mad; it didn't stop you from your heavy make-out session on his bed later that night.

Something was particularly rough about this make-out session; every time he went to kiss your lips, his hand would wrap around your throat, and every time you protested, his other hand would cover your mouth. 

In the moment, it only felt right to Rafe to overpower you completely, hiking up your dress and pulling down your panties to your knees, along with his slacks and his briefs. 

He cooed you when you cried--as if he weren't the one inflicting your pain, he held you tight when you tried to push him away, and he'll whisper in your ear, "How could you hold out on me with such good pussy like this." every time you told him 'no."

You would almost lose your virginity to Season Three Rafe in a heated moment of vulnerability. 

Rafe would open up to you about his troubles, which ultimately led to him telling you about the bad things he's done to the pouges—to his sister—in the past and how bad he felt. 

And there was something so attractive about THEE kook king breaking down his exterior just for you. 

When the moment got heated with a shared passionate kiss, as Rafe lips left a wet trail down your neck, you moaned, "Rafe, I'm a virgin." and then he stopped. 

Rafe knew he wanted to take your virginity, but he didn't want to make any more brash decisions; he wanted your first time to be special. 

A month or so later, he takes you with him on a business trip to  Guadeloupe--he doesn't tell you what type of business he's doing; all you know is that when he's done, you can have him all to yourself. 

And fuck is he so charming. 

He rents a condo for you two, takes you shopping, and takes you to fancy dinners.

After being out all day, you'd come back to the condo with a trail of roses leading to the bedroom (very cheesy, but he's doing his best). 

Now, don't get me wrong. Just because season three Rafe did take the liberty of making your first-time special doesn't mean he will go all soft on you. 

He does let your cunt adjust to his length for a few slow strokes--until he's completely wrecking your shit--I'm talking about his tip kissing your cervix and him making you squirt for the first time.

[supercutszns]

a place with you; luke castellan

wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)

pairing: luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.

warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.

So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.

When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.

“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.

“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”

You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.

Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.

So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.

Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.

Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?

This time, though, he’s a little worried.

It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.

It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.

There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.

You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.

“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”

You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”

It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”

The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.

Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”

“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”

You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”

He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”

“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”

“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”

“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”

You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.

Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”

“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.

His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”

I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.

“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”

It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”

He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”

Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”

Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.

Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.

Until you’re claimed.

Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.

He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.

Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.

You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.

But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?

After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.

You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”

Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.

You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”

When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”

There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.

He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.

“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.

You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”

“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”

It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”

You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”

There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”

Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”

He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”

His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”

He turns back to you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.

“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”

Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”

His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”

It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”

There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”

You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.

He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.

“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”

“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.

He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.

But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.

[mossangelll]

what arcane characters would be like at christmas!

inspired by @cosmicporos whose work is here <3

i’m in the christmas spirit and wanted to do a sillier post on what some arcane characters are like at this time of the year! once christmas and exams are over, i’ll get back to working through requests ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Jinx:

jinx gifts you something homemade, maybe a scrapbook of all the things you did together throughout the year?

aw omg i bet she’s amazing at taking secret pics…there’s so many embarrassing pictures of you in there but you can’t even hate it when she doodles love hearts right next to them :’)

all the pictures inside would be meticulously dated with a corresponding memory to go underneath

she wants to show you how much she cares!

jinx would love anything you give her, but she would swoon if you got her materials to make more chomper bombs - she loves how accepting and enthusiastic you are of her hobbies

jinx’s favourite holiday activity is decorating!

she loves getting into a festive spirit where it’s seen as more acceptable to be goofy and childlike?

she’s very thrifty so i feel like most of the decor is stuff you guys make together in front of a warm fire while it snows outside hehe

makes cranberry and popcorn garlands which you guys end up eating by the end of the week

there’s just plain string all over the place 😭

obviously there will be christmas themed graffiti

instead of a star or angel on top of the tree, she makes miniature figurines of you two hugging to stick on top

she is incredibly down bad for you and loves the holidays because she gets to be extra sentimental

gets a stupidly skinny christmas tree that barely has enough branches to wrap decorations around but she wouldn’t have it any other way

jinx doesn’t want to take everything tooooo seriously

jinx’s favourite christmas song is i wish it could be christmas everyday

Vi:

vi gifts you your own leather jacket! it's second hand and a bit worn through but she tried her best

you always spoke about how much you loved her jacket and now you two can match

irons and pins on patches of your favourite bands all over the jacket

spends so much time into making sure it looks perfect for you

i can see you two wearing each other’s jackets a lot so you can smell like one another

best investment ever - now everyone knows you two are made for each other

she would love it if you gifted her boxing gloves in her signature colour!

vi’s favourite holiday activity is sledding!

she probably uses an old sled her and jinx made together when they were younger

it’s seen better days but she doesn’t want to give it up anytime soon

better wear a helmet in case the whole sled comes apart as you ride it 😭

she’s the kind of person to convince you to let her push the sled down a steep hill… she cheers as you scream in fear

when you asked her if it was safe she winked and told you to trust her 😐

big mistake but how can you say no to her???

you both land in a heap of snow at the bottom, laughing so hard you have to catch your breath as snowflakes melts into your hair

she rolls you around in the snow and kisses you for a loooooong time hehe

vi’s favourite christmas song is baby it’s cold outside

Ekko:

ekko gifts you a painting he made of you!

he’s very nervous when he does, watching for every little reaction on your face - he just wants to know that he did a good job and made you happy

how could you not like it? he captures your likeness so well it feels like looking in a very flattering mirror

you can tell how much love and thought he put into it

he would love it if you gifted him more face paint and hair dye - even better if you offer to do it for him!

ekko’s favourite holiday activity is playing in the snow!

snowball fights, building snowmen and igloos, making snow angels - all of it!

this guy LOCKS IN when it comes to snowball fights

honestly sometimes you want to say no bcs he gets a bit too committed and you feel like you’re getting hunted down 😭

but then he promises to make you hot chocolate when you get inside so it works out in the end

accidentally pelts you in the face with a solid snowball and his face drops

he runs over to where you got knocked over and is worriedly checking you all over to make sure you’re not hurt

that’s when you shove snow down his back and run away in a fit of giggles

he goes still before he starts to chase after you - you both launch snow at each other for house

yeah, you both get ill after that 😭

ekko’s favourite christmas song is santa clause is coming to town

Jayce: 

jayce gifts you jewellery he forged himself :3

i can see him dragging you along to the workshop, making you watch him be all sweaty and hot for hours (you’re not complaining)

if you ask what exactly he’s making there he brushes it off as a custom piece of equipment needed for his experiments - little do you know it’s actually gifts for you

when he does gift it to you he has the most smug look in his face

who else is doing gifts like him?? exactly 🙂‍↕️

he would love it if you gave him new tools he can use when he’s doing his forging!

jayce’s favourite holiday activity is making gingerbread houses!

mainly sneakily nibbling away at little pieces of you (you notice)

you two end up ditching the house and smear icing all over each other

he licks the icing off your cheek

you tell him how gross he is but he’s not fooled when you’re blushing and giggling at his antics

after you two finish your “break”, you get to work on finally completing the gingerbread house

doesn’t let you leave the kitchen until you’re done - he made BLUEPRINTS for the house

it ends up being more like a mansion when you’re done

he’s cheesing so hard when it’s done and he makes you pose with the house

he posts it on his instagram story with some dumb caption (“look at my sweet treat and the gingerbread house we made 😜”) and you only find out when your friends send it to you

jayce’s favourite christmas song is all i want for christmas is you

Viktor:

viktor gifts you customised skincare he made just for you!

he is more physics-minded but after hearing you complain about how all the products you tried just weren’t doing it for you, he decides to step up

spends so much time consulting chemists at the academy for help creating the products

“subtly” asks you questions about your skin so as not to give himself away

“your skin looks quite dry today, would you agree?”

says this in front of a bunch of people - you hate this man so much 😭

you’re so happy when he gifts it to you, you’ve never had someone listen so intently to what you talk about

you definitely cry into his arms and he’s a bit stunned but eventually holds onto you - you stay like that for a while

he would love it if you gave him fancy coffee to help him stay up in the lab!

viktor’s favourite holiday activity is going to the christmas markets!

loves the smell of cinnamon and cocoa in the air, loves how the cold air nips at his nose

the icy ground is a bit of a nuisance for his cane but he knows he always has you to help out, even if he hates asking ^^

makes you two look at all the lights so you can rate them

goes to basically every dessert stand and scarfs down an insane amount of sweet things in record time

likes to buy the weirdest snow globes he can find

viktor’s favourite christmas song is winter wonderland

Caitlyn:

cait gifts you a first-edition copy of you’re favourite classical novel! 

she had to pull a lot couple of strings to get it but she would do just about anything for you 

even though you’d be happy with anything she gives you, she places a lot of expectations on herself 

she stresses herself out over making sure you have the best christmas ever 

she would love it if you gave her clothes that she would actually wear, things she’s told her she likes - not just what she’s expected to wear 

cait’s favourite holiday activity is ice skating!

she’s honestly so good at ice skating you’re surprised it isn’t her job or something 

takes you skating on the frozen lake at her estate 

if you don’t know how to skate, she’s incredibly patient and teaches you the basics

she loves that you have to cling onto her so you don’t fall over 

if you know how to skate, she bashfully asks if you want to learn couple’s ice skating choreography with her 

has the time of her life doing lifts and jumps with you! 

wishes she could stay outside skating with you 

cait's favourite christmas song is underneath the tree 

Mel:

mel gifts you a holiday at your dream destination!

she has lots of money at her disposal and gifts you things all the time, so she really has to go above and beyond for this one

you complain about barely getting to see her due to her work on the council so she manages to get a week away with you!

has a whole itinerary planned out so all you have to do is sit back and relax

makes up for all the time she spent away from you by making sure you're both attached at the hip lol

she would love it if you gifted her one of those jars full of little notes with things you love and admire about that person!

mel’s favourite holiday activity is playing games by the fireplace!

at first, she’s off-put by the whole idea - she’s not a child

but deep down i feel like she’s quite lonely and yearns to feel like she really belongs somewhere, she’s just scared to be emotionally vulnerable

so when you come along she reluctantly agrees and finds that she really loves doing this at a time that reminds her of her estranged family

loosens up around you and feels like she can really be herself

she’s also very competitive so it adds more drama to it all

you guys definitely argue when you play charades or uno 😭

she makes it up to you by letting you win the next game even if it’s incredibly obvious

makes silly bets when you play - “if i win the next round you have to tell me what you got be for christmas”

she’s such a cutie

mel’s favourite christmas song is santa baby

Ambessa:

ambessa gifts you a spa day

honestly a bit of a self-indulgent present since her mind isn’t completely innocent with this gift

a spa day is a spa day however

she doesn’t celebrate christmas - it’s a useless frivolity that wastes precious time that could be used to train her army

she knows how much you enjoy it though so she makes an exception for you

you can tell her heart’s not in it but it’s sweet that she tries for you

she would love it if you made her an intricate meal with all her favourite noxian foods!

ambessa’s favourite holiday activity is making christmas cards!

well, she’s not the one making them

she just watches you make them

but she thinks the look of concentration on your face is quite endearing so she stays around to watch you make them

she’s surprised by how much effort goes into making them from scratch and she walks away with a new appreciation for your hobby

you could beg her to join but she’s just not gonna do it 😭

she likes you, but not that much

ambessa’s favourite christmas song is none of them unfortunately <\3 (she has a soft spot for feliz navidad)

Heimerdinger:

heimerdinger gifts you a jailbroken gaming console 😭

he spent precious time on that thing

doesn’t agree with doing things like that usually but it’s christmas

everyone deserves a treat every now and then!

hopes you’ll focus on your work at the academy more often if you have this

backfires in his face because you’re constantly on it now, oh well

at least you liked the present

he would love it if you you gifted him a song you wrote!

heimerdinger’s favourite holiday activity is secret santa!

he is SO bad at keeping his a secret 😭

he goes around the academy asking people about your hobbies, likes and dislikes

you know he has you by the end of the day lmao

he’s so cute you can’t even be mad

heimerdinger’s favourite christmas song is wonderful christmastime

AU!Claggor:

claggor gifts you one of his hybrid plants! 

this is a huge honour since they’re basically his children 

the one he gifts you was a seedling from the very first plant that managed to survive off the fissure gases 

gives you a whole speech on how to properly care for it (tells you the secret is to whisper positive affirmations to it every morning) 

he’s nervous gifting it you since it means so much to him, but he knows he can trust you to look after it 

it’s so sweet since he’s sharing such an important part of his life with you!

he would love it if you gave him cuttings from a rare plant you may or may not have taken from some rich piltie 

claggor’s favourite holiday activity is baking! 

he has his own apron and everything 

makes cookies and yule logs topped with marshmallows - he goes above and beyond 

makes enough to give out to family and friends 

he loves seeing people enjoy his labor of love, it makes him all fuzzy inside 

claggors’s favourite christmas song is it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas 

AU!Mylo:

mylo gifts you wool gloves!

you always complain about having cold hands so whenever you two are outside, your hands are always in your pockets

but he wants to hold your hand :(

so gloves it is!

two birds with one stone

he would love it if your gift was literally just a kiss under the mistletoe, he doesn’t ask for much!

mylo’s favourite holiday activity is scavenger hunts!

he’s another one who thinks certain activities are childish, but once he gets in the zone istg he’s shoving actual kids out of the way 😭

like i genuinely believe you would have to restrain him because he’s going feral over this

he needs to calm down tbh

probably loses to a five year old and sulks for the rest of the rest of the day

mylo’s favourite christmas song is a nonsense christmas

Silco:

silco gifts you expensive clothes and perfume/cologne

he’s got MONEY and i feel like he wants to make up for the fact that he’s never had much growing up, so he spoils you in all the ways you deserve

he rolls his eyes if you tell him you don’t want anything for christmas

as if he would let you celebrate the day empty handed

when you asked him for a big fir tree you got it, along with mountains of presents stacked underneath

way too many for one person

he watches you intently with a smirk on his face, loving the way your eyes light up with each present you unwrap

he likes having the satisfaction that only he can treat you like this

he would love it if you offered to inject his eye as a gift - he can’t really reject this, can he?

if you offered under any other circumstances, he would probably say no

silco’s favourite holiday activity is dressing up as santa!

ok hear me out

one day when jinx was younger she asked if she would see santa that year

and he just…dressed up as him?? and gave her presents??? and now it’s a tradition that’s stuck 😭

keep in mind jinx didn’t believe in santa at this point but he had no idea about this so he didn’t want her to be disappointed

his santa impression is just “ho, ho, ho” 😐 he’s so deadpan it’s hilarious

he has this tacky stiff beard and pillows stuffed under his costume

so when you find out about it, you beg to see it with your own eyes

it’s sooooo embarrassing for him but he loves making his favourite people happy no matter the cost

doesn’t let anyone else but you two and sevika see him like that

silco’s favourite christmas song is…the christmas song lol

Sevika:

sevika gifts you a custom-made gun, “to Y/N, from sev” inscribed on the handle 

she’s secretly whipped for you but can’t let anyone else know, how else is she meant to keep up her tough facade? 

teaches you how to use the gun - she doesn’t want you to be defenceless in the lanes, especially since you’re connected to someone like her 

her worst fear is someone hurting you to get to her 

she would love it if you got her a backup arm, god knows hers is always getting ruined considering all the fights she gets into 

sevika’s favourite holiday activity is watching christmas movies!

she rarely gets a moment to relax so when the holidays come around, she loves getting to chill with you on the couch 

you guys watch those awful hallmark movies and you spend the entire time complaining the the tv about how unrealistic and dumb the characters are 

she throws popcorn at the tv whenever her least favourite character shows up 

oooh i can picture you two sipping on mulled wine, sevika’s arm wrapped around your shoulders 

you’re basically snuggled into her lap and she lives for it 

would die if anyone saw her like that though 

makes it a yearly tradition to show you the picture she secretly took of silco dressed up as santa 

she basically glows inside when she hears your laughter ring out like bells 

sevika’s favourite christmas song is please come home for christmas 

Vander:

vander gifts you free hug vouchers lmao 

i see him as someone who values sentimental value over material possessions, so he came up with this genius idea >:)

you’re having a bad day? redeem a free bear hug!

you’re feeling sappy? redeem a free bear hug! 

you just want a hug? you don’t even need to ask! 

he was scared you would think he was just being lazy with this present but he’s elated when he sees you openly tearing up at it 

you both laugh at the christmas table over his present 

he would love it if you gave the kids a gift, it shows how much you care! 

vander’s favourite holiday activity is carol singing

except drunk (it’s for charity!)

drunk carol singing is good for the soul, or so he says 

i can imagine him and silco when they were younger wandering the streets, cheeks red with sappy grins straining their faces, belting out songs at the top of their lungs 

multiple people told them to shut up 

they just sang louder 

end up at the last drop where they have a karaoke session 

when he does get tips for his carolina, he uses it to help the most vulnerable people in zaun 

helping his people is his main priority  

vander’s favourite christmas song is let it snow

masterlist

[woso-dreamzzz]

Icy III

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader

Summary: He watches your match

He sits up in the box with Laporta, stretched out on the foldout chair like it's his personal throne.

He's wearing a new suit, freshly ironed and tailored to fit his body perfectly. His hair has been cut and styled to give that almost effortless look about him.

"Trust fund, I reckon," Patri says from your warm up circle," That guy that's up there with Laporta."

"No way," Pina disagrees," That's new money, not old. Probably a hedge fun manager."

"Or some kind of oil and gas giant," Mapi laughs.

"None," You say," Real estate at first then tech and then big pharma over in the states."

"What made you guess that?" Mapi asks and you stubbornly kick the ball away.

"I didn't. Laporta's not going to get money out of him anyway. The wife is the one that invests in sports but only ones she gets good profits out of. Two NFL teams, a Formula One team. She owns a tennis stadium in Paris. Big investor in the Olympics."

"Oh come on," Patri complains," There's no way you just know that off the top of your head."

"It doesn't matter. If Laporta wants money he should talk to the wife."

You can feel his gaze on you throughout the match.

It's a team at the bottom of the table and you're so technical that they can't get close but you can still feel the weight of his stare on you at all times.

'You carry the weight of our family'.

He's told you that many times.

'If you cannot exceed expectations then we have no use for you'.

He's told you that too, something you remember as you cross the ball into Pina, who taps it in easily.

You celebrate together, hugging and you feel Ingrid's familiar presence behind you as she gives you her customary kiss on the head.

You look up at him in the crowd, just out of reflex but you can't see much.

He's still splayed out like he's a king on a throne, looking down at you like you're a peasant in the street, fighting with someone else for just a scrap of bread.

That's his idea of entertainment, like holding up a magnifying glass towards an ant hill in the middle of a sunny day.

You feel small under his gaze, dipping your head in submission as you walk back into your position.

You assist in the next three goals.

Alexia.

Aitana.

Even Keira.

You're good at that. You've perfected the art of assisting.

Mapi's even joked before that you're going for the record of assists from one person this season.

Alexia says she's going to make you be more selfish and shoot more but you don't think you really need to do that, not when Caro can do it instead of you.

This is one of the rare matches where Caro's being rotated so gets no minutes. You fill her place though, like you always do, setting up goals and carrying the ball down the wing.

Barcelona win, of course, and you drift back to Ingrid and Mapi like you normally do.

Mapi grins at you, arm thrown over your shoulder and a frown on her face as you go rigid under her.

Laporta is on the pitch with him, stuttering over his words and hurrying to keep up.

He stops in front of you.

"Y/n."

Your head drops automatically, thoroughly chastised as you step out from under Mapi's arms.

His hand clamps down on your shoulder and you can tell how this is going to go before he even opens his mouth.

"Of course we're very proud of her," His honeyed tone tells Laporta," We've wanted nothing but the best for her."

For them, you correct in your head.

"She's always had such a passion for football. We love watching her play."

He's never seen you play in his life.

"We-We're very happy to have her here!" Laporta tells him," She's a real talent. You're produced quite the footballer."

He laughs, waving away the compliments as his hand feels like a shackle around you. "You're too kind. Sports has never quite been my thing. I'll have to talk to the wife about what we were talking about, I'm sure you'll understand."

"Of course! Of course! Take all the time you need!"

He will. You know he will.

He'll discuss with her and they'll write up a contract if it's really something they're interested, about what they pay in and what they get out of it.

She's always been better at the sports side of it, despite her background in real estate. She knows how to talk people around in circles. How to get through the little boy's club that every sport has. She'll get what she wants if Barcelona is even something she's interested in.

You hope it isn't.

"I'll leave you alone with your daughter," Laporta says and you want to call after him.

You want to tell him not to leave with your father.

Barcelona was supposed to be yours. You were supposed to be safe here.

You can't control when they summon you in Norway but if you're in Barcelona, they're not supposed to be able to get to you. You're not meant to be subject to their whims in Barcelona.

You want to go home. You want to go home with Mapi and Ingrid and curl up in your bed with Toast and not move for a week.

His casual hand on your shoulder grows heavy in an instant, nails digging in to your skin through your shirt and you have to keep the smile on your face to keep up appearances for the cameras you know are on you.

His lips graze your ear as he whispers to you," If you ever blindside me like this again then I promise you won't like what happens next."

"Sorry, Father," You say back.

"You better be. I didn't like sitting up there with potential business partners to see my own daughter down there like a football hooligan."

"Sorry."

"I'm better than that and I raised you to be better than that too."

You resist the urge to tell him that he didn't raise you at all.

Your wrist twinges, the phantom injury flaring up like it always did when you're nervous.

You throat bobs, already closing up as you fight back tears.

"I'm sorry."

"Apologies mean nothing." His voice is harsh in your ear and you find a point ahead of you to stare at so you don't cry.

If there's something that he hates more than apologies, it's tears so you stubbornly don't let even one fall.

"Who's this, y/n?" Ingrid asks, clearing her throat and you flick your eyes to her.

"My-"

Your father says his name, sticking his hand out and he's back to playing the role of proud father. "And you are?"

"Ingrid Engen. I play with y/n on the Norwegian team too."

"Ah! Yes. I think she's mentioned you before!" He's lying.

He didn't even know you played on the national team.

"And I'm Mapi. She lives with me and Ingrid."

"I can't thank you enough," Your father says," She can be quite a handful sometimes." He laughs but no one laughs with him.

"I think she's delightful," Ingrid says," Very helpful. Very studious. She's the best in her class."

The smile on his face is real now, like it always is when he hears about your academics.

He started in real estate and then moved to investing in technology and pharmaceuticals. He and your mother are scarily intelligent and it might be the only thing they passed onto you.

"We expect nothing less of her," He says," I'm sure everyone at the party will be glad to hear it."

Your breath stutters in your chest. "The party?"

"Yes! The party! I must have forgotten to tell you! We're having a little get together with a few potential business partners. We'll have to get you a dress."

"I don't need to go."

"Don't be silly!" His hand tightens on your shoulder and you know that this isn't a discussion. "There's some people I should introduce you too."

Your head drops again, the fight leaving your body.

"Do you want us to go?" Ingrid asks, ever polite though you feel like without her and Mapi there you won't survive. "So you two can have dinner?"

Your father is laughing again, finally releasing you and you take several quick steps to duck behind Mapi.

"I've got a flight to catch. Meetings to get to. Far more important things."

He can't see you anymore, not with your head bowed and pressed against Mapi's back and you finally let the tears fall.

Ingrid watches your father leave, down the tunnel and escorted to the player's exit by the staff that seem to be falling over themselves to make him happy.

"Y/n," She says, coaxing you out from your hiding spot," Oh, sweetheart...Are you okay?"

You look at her, bottom lip trembling as the tears run down your cheeks.

"Ingrid," You say, sounding small and wounded like an animal," I want to go home."

Ingrid nods as Mapi tucks you under her arm.

"Let's go home."

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

OK Guys. I get the skepticism esp after the Knuckles disaster, but we also need to keep in mind "this is a trailer that won't spoil literally everything about the movie." ESPECIALLY in regards to GUN. They're not gonna put in the trailer "the military shot a little girl and that's why Shadow is mad so Sonic is going to never work with them ever." That's a great way to get parents to bring their kids to the theater, especially in America. (/s)

It's WAY more effective as a plot twist halfway through, where Sonic thinks that he's finally being accepted onto Earth via working with the government only to find out that they're exploiting him and Shadow the same. I can't guarantee this is gonna happen obviously but it's like a 90% chance just knowing how, like. writing works.

Esp considering the government has not had a good track record in the last two movies, I dunno if they'd do a heel-face turn into "actually they were always right" in the movie where a little girl needs to get shot by the government.

And I'm not gonna say "trust and form a parasocial relationship with a film director" but we should keep in mind that Jeff Fowler got his start working on Shadow's title game and has stated in interviews that he understands how important Shadow's backstory is to his character. Not to mention how the internet has been exploding the last two years with enthusiasm over this story actually getting shown onscreen, enough that a studio would fucking notice at the very least that this is what the people want. I can't guarantee they'll actually listen, but saying that they're absolutely not because "Sonic was in a GUN helicopter in the trailer" is insane. Especially with the fact that GUN is not with Sonic when he goes to Eggman. We just see Team Sonic alone meeting with Stone, and I will bet you it's because there's no way in hell GUN would let them near him, what with the Robotnik connections to the ARK.

Also the Gerald thing is rather worrying, esp with the lack of shit they gave Pachacamac in the miniseries, but honestly I think that was just a marketing push of "Jim Carrey will be playing TWO characters!!!" Considering he's only seen in one trailer scene AT the ARK (where all of Gerald's technology was and, more importantly, where the Eclipse cannon he needs someone to set off is) AND we know from movie 2's credits scene that there was a fifty-year timeskip, I severely doubt that's the real Gerald who's just completely unaffected by his granddaughter being murdered.

And ofc there's things to be concerned about in the trailer. The lack of Rouge for instance– I obviously keep posting my theory that Krysten Ritter's character will be her undercover but the fact we don't know how much time she'd actually have with Shadow, if at ALL, is worrying. The fact that Rouge might not be here period. The weird pacing of the Knuckles show and the fear that could bleed over into the movie. But there's also stuff to get excited about– the epic fight scene choreography, the brief glimpse we got of Maria and Shadow's bond. Reeves's voice actually fits Shadow and at least from what the trailer showed us it looks like the Green Hills storyline is taking a backseat to the action and mystery of Project Shadow.

tl;dr guys calm down for like five minutes. if the movie sucks in december we can riot then. right now let's just band together against mufasa

[entitled-fangirl]

Fight.

Cregan Stark x Targaryen wife!reader

Summary: the reader defies her brother when he tries to get her back. When he threatens the North, she dares him to. Cregan is enraged that she'd be so reckless. An argument ensues.

Warnings: threats, foreplay so 18+ pleeeeease

A/N: eeek the idea for the argument came from @kaitic2014!!! Totally genius so everyone pay your respects to the queen

Masterlist

..............................................................

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Cregan's voice boomed through the room and down the corridor. 

Y/n, his newly wedded wife, turned with alarm. She kept herself calm, but a few nerves showed through. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't know w-" He let out a long, agitated growl, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. His nostrils flared like a wolf. A Stark wolf. 

"Cregan-" she tried to ease.

"Don't."

Her eyes fell to the ground. It was best to wait for him to say something first than try to read the angry man's mind.

It was unusual of him to be this way, so this was seriously troubling him.

"My beloved dragon," he spoke through gritted teeth, "what were you thinking?"

"I- I don't know what you're-"

"-Bargaining the lives of my people. You don't recall that?" He challenged. 

A fire was lit in his eyes. The Targaryen girl had never minded fire. But this fire ate at her.

"Aemond," she mentioned. "This is about Aemond?"

"No. This is about you - your careless words to the prince that could have had dire consequences."

"They didn't, and I knew that they wouldn't," she said with a growing confidence. Her shyness was now becoming firm by the moment.

He stared at her for a while. She dared to think he was entertaining the idea of strangling her. He had always been so kind. Did he doubt her that much?

"Cregan, my brother had always been made of empty threats. To threaten Vhagar on the North? It's a mad thought."

He let a breath out through his mouth and placed his hands on her biceps. "It's a madder thought to challenge a man with the most formidable dragon in the Realm." His eyes searched hers. "What ever made you do such a thing?"

…

Y/n bolted down the hall, her skirt swishing around her feet with every step. She practically jumped down each staircase. Her heart was flooded with worry.

Vhagar had suddenly arrived, and Cregan was out training his younger brother.

After all, no one suspected a Green's dragon to show at Winterfell.

Turning the corner, her eyes caught the sight of Cregan jogging in her direction, no doubt planning to go to their chambers and grab Ice. 

"Cre-CREGAN!" She exclaimed and closed the gap between them. 

Cregan let out a small relieved grunt and held her with one arm, the other going to his longsword that laid in her grasp. "Thank you," he whispered against her hair. "You know my mind better than any other."

"What good is a Northern Stark without Ice?" She tried to tease, though it fell short.

He kissed her head firmly. "I'll return. Go to our chambers and wait for me."

"No. Cregan, I-" she protested.

"Go." He said with no room for argument.

She stepped back in frustration. "I can speak to my brother. I can make him see reason!"

He pulled her back to him, annoyed that she'd step away. "There's no reasoning with the man that controls the largest dragon in the Realm. And I won't see you pay for it. You'll wait for me." When she opened her mouth to argue again, he continued. "You will."

She nodded in defeat.

He relaxed and kissed her head once again. "Go on, little dragon."

Tilting her head up, she pecked his lips. "Be careful for me, my wolf."

…

Cregan and his men rode their horses down towards the large dragon's resting place. Their horses neighed as they pulled them to a stop at the top of the hill, overlooking the now sleeping Vhagar.

Her rider was no where to be found.

…

Y/n had managed to sneak from the castle, her bedsheets tied together to help her from the second story. She had stashed a dagger in the belt of her skirt. She had stepped from the outer gates of Winterfell when an arm grabbed her waist and her back was suddenly pressed against the cold stones. 

"Quiet," Aemond hissed at her. His longsword was still in its sheath, but she knew better than to trust it to stay there. "Have you missed me, sister?"

"No," she sneered. 

His hand came up to her jaw and held her in a firm grip. His eye was full of fury, but there was something else there too.

Fear.

Aemond Targaryen was afraid.

Of what? She didn't know.

"Brother," she whispered.

Aemond's hand relaxed. His fingers brushed over her cheek then dropped entirely. "I need you."

It was a whisper. A plea. Something that she'd never seen him do.

"Our brother is on his deathbed. The kingdom is close to its end. Please."

Aegon was cruel and selfish. His heart worked in mysterious ways, none that ever crossed his youngest sister's path. Not that she minded. To avoid Aegon and his drunken stupors was something she was always grateful for.

"What good am I to your kingdom, Aemond?"

He leaned in, his voice soft as his hand ghosted over her hand. "Where you lead, surely your loyal northerner follows. With the North, you can save us. You and your dragon. Vhagar is strong, but not when she's alone."

"Sunfyre is dead then?" She asked in hurt.

"Aegon is not fit to ride regardless." A thought came over him. "It's only us and Helaena. Surely you won't make our sweet sister ride into battle."

That hit her harder than she anticipated it to. "Please don't make her. Surely Daeron-"

"Daeron is coming with the Hightower army. It will take too long. I need you now."

She shuddered a breath. "Cregan does not fight for your cause-"

"-Our cause-"

"-your cause," she corrected. "I will not fight your battles against my own husband, Aemond."

His brows furrowed, as if he couldn't understand her decision. "You'd chose him over your blood? Over the good of the Realm?"

"What do you know about the good of the Realm, Aemond?"

Anger spread over his face. His fingers twitched. "That's your decision?"

She kept her chin up.

"And what if my dragon decides to show its gratitude to your little castle? Huh?" He grabbed her jaw again as his voice lowered. "Will the North be strong if I set fire to its castles?"

"Do it," she stated confidently.

An unsure look came over him. He was surprised by her sudden strength. But he let the anger mask it once again. "I will."

"Fine."

"Fine, sister. The North will burn, and it will be of your own accord."

The sound of the horses returning caused a panic in Aemond. He took one last look to his sister, a hesitant hand ran over her cheek, then he took off.

And she would never see him again.

…

"My love, Aemond is spineless. To think that he'd set fire to the Northern houses, it's ridiculous-"

"I don't care how ridiculous his words are, he swore to them! And you encouraged it!"

"We have nothing to fear."

He pulled her into his chest, his burly arms wrapping around her. "Gods…"

"What?"

He growled, "If you weren't my wife…" It died on his lips.

"Then what would you do?" She challenged.

His arms squeezed her just a bit. "Watch your tone."

"No!" She pushed him away. "Do not dull your anger because I am your wife!"

"You don't know what I'm holding back," he seethed. "And don't push me away again."

Cregan was quite terrifying when he wished to be. To make him angry was to wish for death itself.

She dusted herself off. "The North was never in danger, nor is it now," she persisted. "Vhagar cannot handle the winter, and Aemond wouldn't-"

"-STOP!" He growled. His hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Just stop." 

"You're not listening!"

"And you're too stubborn!" 

"Oh!" She yelled. "Are you aren't? You arrogant lit-"

Cregan's face inched closer, his breath over her lips. His voice had dropped the volume. "Didn't I say to be quiet?"

She shuddered at his proximity and her anger quickly subdued into something else. Her eyes flickered to his lips, their breath now mixing in the few inches between them. "Cre…"

"Do I need to show you some manners? Remind you who rules the North?"

Another shiver and the tension grew.

Her voice was barely there, "W-Who rules the North, Cregan?"

He grinned as he tipped her chin up. "I do."

"Do- Do you?" She meant for it to sound confident and challenging, but it came out quiet and meek.

His palm rested on her cheek as he studied her. His thumb pulled down her bottom lip, pushing it into her mouth. She gasped at the intrusion, gagging slightly when he pressed down on her tongue.

"I've never been this angry at someone," he admitted lowly.

The frustrated northerner had the girl at his mercy, and still he was kind. His large hand could crush her skull, yet he never would. 

"Hun eeh uhry," she tried to speak.

A humored look came into his eyes, and he pulled him thumb back, ignoring the small string of spit that still connected it to her lips. "What was that?"

"I said," she repeated as she swallowed, "then be angry."

His eyes searched hers frantically for a sign that she was jesting with him. When there wasn't one, he connected his lips to hers.

She yelped at the suddenness, their teeth clashing with how harsh he longed for her.

"I'm gonna take you on every surface of this castle."

His hand found its way to her hair and tugged to expose her neck and his lips soon trailed the delicate skin. He grinned at the way her breath caught when he nipped a delicate spot.

"You're gonna go to our room, strip yourself, and wait for me on our bed."

She had gone pretty mindless thus far, letting the feeling of him sweep over her, but she came back to for only a moment. "No."

"So cheeky today," he hummed. "I told you, as the leader of the North-"

"-I am a Targaryen princess," she countered. "And I command the leader of the North to go to our room, strip all of his clothes, and pleasure himself on our bed until I join him."

She said it with such confidence. Cregan finally saw just how fierce dragon blood could be.

Maybe he was wrong in getting so angry with her.

Maybe she was right. Aemond wouldn't do shit.

He tilted his head and she was sure he would be in a rage at this point.

But instead, his lips pulled up in a smirk. "As my princess commands."

He gave an over-exaggerated bow and stepped from the room, already running his fingers through his hair to tie it up.

.......................................................

A/n: I sense that we may wish for a part two. I mean... how long can we keep Cregan waiting????

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar@kidd3ath @yujyujj@misswynters@cosmosnkaz@sithapprentice@kaniromi@lovemesomevesey @its-jackie-bb @thorins-queen-of-erebor @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn @callsignwidow @a1lexh-blog@alyssa-dayne @ethereal-athalia @ashovertheriver @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @dozcan123 @wangjiangelangel @kamitargaryen @aegonswife @lv7867@helpmedecideaname @cherryheairt @classicsimpforaaronwarner

[princessbrunette]

https://x.com/pervy/status/1859266201274515796?s=46

john b x sarah x reader x jj making sure the reader finds them like this so they can keep showing her that it’s ok for them to be like this around each other all the time.

they invited you round, so you had no idea why they were acting like they didn’t — the first sight you’re greet with upon entering being the sight of sarah cameron’s tanned back, rippling and rolling as she grinds her hips down on john b’s lap — the both of them naked, huffing and moaning.

you would have turned right around and left, probably ran for the hills and completely died in embarrassment over walking in on them like that… if it weren’t for jj.

he sits at the desk in the corner, headphones on — yet one ring pulled off his ear slightly so he could still hear what’s going on in the room. you stop in your tracks in the doorway, eyes glued to him as to not look at the scene you really wanted to watch.

he looks totally unbothered, jaw slightly agape, eyes locked in on the screen as he plays his game, fingers clicking furiously at the mouse. when spotting you stood there nervously, all confused like a baby bunny he lights up a little, smiling all friendly.

“heyo. was wonderin’ when you might show that pretty face. c’mere wanna show you somethin’.” he beckons you over, and you feel your feet follow— braving a glance over at the couple on the bed. you lock eyes with john b and quickly look away.

once close enough, jj pulls you by the wrist so you sit sideways on his lap. “so— there’s this skin on the game that kinda looks like you. she’s got all pink stuff… oh damn where’d it go?” the blonde mutters, adjusting his legs slightly so you can sit more comfortably. you bring your finger to your lips, chewing nervously at the corner as you peer over his shoulder beneath your lashes at the couple.

“jj…” you whisper, cautiously watching sarah move onto the flats of her feet so she could bounce on her boyfriends cock. with each movement her tits bounced, and you nearly gasped in betrayal at the way it sent a shock wave to your clit.

“what?” he shrugs, but what you don’t see is the corner of his lip tugging upwards like it was all a prank. you were reacting exactly as they said you would.

“don’t you see them?” you whisper, warm breath on his cheek when you turn your head to look at him and he nearly busts out laughing at the way you phrase it, as if you were hallucinating or seeing ghosts. jj wets his lips, glancing casually over his shoulder before back to you.

“oh, that? don’t mind them.” he waves it off, seemingly going back to his game before he decides to speak up once more, feeling your eyes burning into the side of his face. “we’re all like… super close? so… don’t really bother us. s’just sex, anyway.” his shoulders jump up in what seems to be the millionth shrug, downplaying the whole thing as you knit your brows together, yet feel a little less guilty about the way your gaze drifts back over to them. so you were allowed to watch?

not realising he’d briefly paused his game once more, jj’s clammy fingers find your chin, a cheeky expression on his face when he turns your face to be front on with him yet again, noses almost brushing. “you don’t judge though, do ya sweetcheeks?” he sweetens you with the nickname he’d grant you recently that made your belly flutter.

still in his grip, you shake your head and he smiles, giving your cheek a parting pat before focusing up on his game again.

“cool. tha’s good. ‘cause you know, could be you onna these days.”

you think about that statement for the rest of the day.