#but i think he can be so much more but idk

[luciddreams-art]

Lucille

older than 10, younger than 20

March 10th (Mario day :}

Pisces

red, like the red orange crayon, which is also my fav crayon

Honestly thought those were from TV shows—

many… many pets, specifically mine though, a cat, a dog, a rabbit, a betta fish, and a parakeet! :D

’Murica 🇺🇸🦅🦅🦅🎆🎇🎆🎇

5’2

8 1/2

do roller blades count? Anyways, high heels for nice occasions, (hate high heels with a passion), a pair of off brand converse and a pair of adidas shoes

I don’t remember, but yesterday’s dream was someone talking about the song ‘the girl anachronism’ song (yes I do frequently get lucid dreams)

hmmm, 🤷‍♀️

not sure if this counts as psychic, but I do get dreams about the most mundane things that somehow always happen in the future, like, one time I dreamed about going to this school (WHICH IVE NEVER BEEN TO NOR SEEN) and a few months later, we were there and staring down the exact hallway I did in my dreams, there’s a bunch other instances but that one was the first that came to mind.

oh man, I got too many favorites, ‘break my stride’ by Matthew Wilder is one, ‘My Farewell’s to the fields’ by Yaelokre is another.

the fnaf movie, or hocus Pocus

oh gosh… uhhh, someone nice and supportive, got a nice sense of humor I guess… i don’t think much about this stuff…

Maybe, it really depends lol.

to be fair, I have never thought about my wedding at all before

yeah I am, not sure what denomination but I follow the words and teachings of Jesus Christ :]

when I was born and when my little brother was born, that’s it lol

Nah, got arrested for loitering tho, as a joke by my brother and cops

No, but my grandpa met Clint Eastwood if that counts.

showers.

gray with a pink stripe and dark grey on the other foot.

Nerp

it really depends for what, I mean if I strive for a music career than yeah probably, but if it was for Meadow Friends, I mean, a lot can happen in big fandoms, and I wouldn’t want my work to be ruined, it’s very hard to say what I want, but I think I’m saying that I would rather have a small and easy climb up to something people would love rather than it getting popular all of a sudden and people forgetting it the next day.

oh man, Whatever sounds good honestly.

No, I don’t really want to either.

3

idk all I know is that it got 2 floors.

cereal, Captain Crunch is my fav, but we eat the store brand version :)Does a nerf gun count? Jkjk, I haven’t no, I’ve fired a BB gun though

I actually do archery! I absolutely love it, I wanna get my own bow tho—

Howdy, I’m not even southern and I say howdy all the time.

CallMeKevin’s way of saying the F word, he says Feck and it’s funny lol

to be honest, I was like 9 when I pulled an all nighter and crashed out at 2 pm.

chicken pox scars :D that’s why I give my puppet-sona 2 little dots next to my eyebrows, though they are much more exaggerated lol

Well if I ever had a secret admirer wouldn’t they be a secret? lol no I haven’t I don’t think.

I’m not sure

It really depends, since we people are very flawed way of viewing things most the time, also i suck at social cues—

I can do Russian, Australian, British, southern.

a strong accent? Like my normal voice? I just sound like my normal self, i dont got an accent

prob Russian and southern

INFP-T, I literally just took the test lol, is that a good or bad one lol :3

uhh man, most expensive? Basically all of my clothes are from thrift stores or gifts, I’m not sure if this counts but I got a shirt of Foxy the pirate that came with his funko pop for like 25 bucks, I think that was just for the funko pop tho. Maybe the Dr Pepper sweatshirt I got the other day for 19 dollars? It was onsale so—

yes I can curl my tongue, as well as make a cup with it and twist it, it’s fun lol

innie :3

I’m MAINLY right handed, but I am left handed in archery because I am left eyed dominant, and I also crochet with my left hand, very strange Ik lol

Yes! Yes I do have arachnophobia! Idk why tho, like I know that they are scared of me and most cant kill me, but it’s like this weird primal thing, idk why :{

i don’t know! It used to be black bean soup but I haven’t had that since I was like 9, so probably pancakes! I really like pancake and waffles (yummy)

…um… So, I don’t really eat much ‘foreign food’ i mostly just eat home cooked meals, which I guess you can say sometimes the recipe is from a different country but, most of it are ‘made’ from 40 year old moms on Pinterest.

hey… hey! I wouldn’t say I am messy, just… organized chaos! >:3

most used phrase? I dunno, I am suddenly forgetting every phrase I have ever used!

’Like’ definitely like, close second is ‘NERP!’ From duck tales

Ready for what? Not long, I don’t wear makeup or anything like that and it really depends on the event, probably 20 minutes at the most.

I don’t know, I think most of it is just hollowed out confidence, actually by how I view myself and how I am speaking about myself, I think I lack it… to a concerning degree :’|

Nah definitely suck on lollipops, biting them hurts your teef, but it really depends on what kind, like if it’s the one with gum or those green apple ones with the caramel in the middle :]

YES I do talk to myself, quite a bit actually, but it’s not really to myself per-say it’s more to video game characters or ocs

the phrase sing to yourself is weird, but I don’t sing in front of anyone, so I guess technically to myself yeh

Nah i don’t think so, probably more okay then good, not properly trained, so I sing to myself and to my pets :>

honestly I don’t know my biggest fear, I wouldn’t say spiders bcuz that’s kinda stupid, I’m not sure about death since I got Jesus, probably being forgotten, yeah I don’t want to be forgotten by people, it makes me very sad :[

I don’t think so, I mean I do like telling people things, but I normally try to stray away from gossip

Whats a dramatic movie?

really depends who it’s on. But remember, you all are absolutely beautiful just the way you are and with whatever hairstyle you want! :}

HAHAHA NOPE, probably 10 at the least but don’t track me on that

Robotics, art, and writing :)

Defo a loud introvert as my friend puts it

Nah, that sounds scary lowkey

Talking… talking to strangers in front of people I know, it’s like there’s an expectation of how I should act that I think I put on myself

nah, I used to be scared of the dark, but now I don’t really mind it

I try to be as nice as possible when I correct them, as I don’t like bothering peopld

Yes, yes I am ticklish

Nah

no

I had a sip of beer once, tasted terrible, why do people drink that :/ like it genuinely tastes like what you would imagine pee to taste like

Naurrrr I don’t do that stuff man, but I do make jokes about it

Here’s the thing, I don’t crush on people easily, like I don’t view people as like “WOAH MAMA” like I understand and can see that they are attractive, but never heart pounding ‘I want them’ way, I just don’t have that attraction, but there is this boy, whom I do have a fondness for in my archery classes, but I can’t tell if I like him or if I just want to be his friend, because we talk and all that, but I wouldn’t say we are close friends, anyways bro’s name is Isaac

none, I am too scared to ask to get some, even though my mom is fine with it

The strange thing about that, is that I could never roll my Rs before, but when I started learning Russian it was an almost instant switch, it’s weirdddd

uh, pretty fast when I am excited and gotta tell my friend something!

Uhh fast for a small spurt of energy, then after that, not much

Brown hair, it’s weird, it’s like it’s curly and wavy but also straight

brown eyes :)

almost nothing, except for this very specific brand of lotion

nah, my ADHD won’t let me do that

Stay at home mom and Construction worker :}

I mean, I feel the exact same as last year just with a bit more freedom?

PEOPLE CHEWING WITH THEIR MOUTH OPEN, that’s a big reason why I hate ASMR bcuz of mouth sounds and chewing

Yeah I like it, it got a cute meaning but nobody can pronounce it right, apparently

nah, I haven’t, I basically only think of names for my ocs, they are my children in some way, right?

Honestly, I don’t care, you can’t really control that, can you?

idk bruh, humor? Creativity? I can’t think at this currently moment and time

i forget, a lottttt

baby name book, apparently lol

I don’t know lol, my family never kept track of that, all I know is that we come from the whitest parts of Europe lol (and allegedly a small bit of Indian but you couldn’t be able to tell)

I am noticing a coupe repeat questions on here, but yeah I do have a couple scars

bedspread? Like bed sheets, idk their these weird gray striped ones with other colors

the walls are a light purple :)

Idk why there’s a weird skip back, I’m not missing 2 questions i don’t think!

Get To Know Me Uncomfortably Well

PLEASE DON’T LET THIS FLOP AHHHH

1. What is you middle name? 2. How old are you? 3. When is your birthday? 4. What is your zodiac sign? 5. What is your favorite color? 6. What’s your lucky number? 7. Do you have any pets? 8. Where are you from? 9. How tall are you? 10. What shoe size are you? 11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? 12. What was your last dream about? 13. What talents do you have? 14. Are you psychic in any way? 15. Favorite song? 16. Favorite movie? 17. Who would be your ideal partner? 18. Do you want children? 19. Do you want a church wedding? 20. Are you religious? 21. Have you ever been to the hospital? 22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? 23. Have you ever met any celebrities? 24. Baths or showers? 25. What color socks are you wearing? 26. Have you ever been famous? 27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? 28. What type of music do you like? 29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? 30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 31. What position do you usually sleep in? 32. How big is your house? 33. What do you typically have for breakfast? 34. Have you ever fired a gun? 35. Have you ever tried archery? 36. Favorite clean word? 37. Favorite swear word? 38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? 39. Do you have any scars? 40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? 41. Are you a good liar? 42. Are you a good judge of character? 43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? 44. Do you have a strong accent? 45. What is your favorite accent? 46. What is your personality type? 47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? 48. Can you curl your tongue? 49. Are you an innie or an outie? 50. Left or right handed? 51. Are you scared of spiders? 52. Favorite food? 53. Favorite foreign food? 54. Are you a clean or messy person? 55. Most used phrased? 56. Most used word? 57. How long does it take for you to get ready? 58. Do you have much of an ego? 59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? 60. Do you talk to yourself? 61. Do you sing to yourself? 62. Are you a good singer? 63. Biggest Fear? 64. Are you a gossip? 65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? 66. Do you like long or short hair? 67. Can you name all 50 states of America? 68. Favorite school subject? 69. Extrovert or Introvert? 70. Have you ever been scuba diving? 71. What makes you nervous? 72. Are you scared of the dark? 73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? 74. Are you ticklish? 75. Have you ever started a rumor? 76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? 77. Have you ever drank underage? 78. Have you ever done drugs? 79. Who was your first real crush? 80. How many piercings do you have? 81. Can you roll your Rs?“ 82. How fast can you type? 83. How fast can you run? 84. What color is your hair? 85. What color is your eyes? 86. What are you allergic to? 87. Do you keep a journal? 88. What do your parents do? 89. Do you like your age? 90. What makes you angry? 91. Do you like your own name? 92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? 93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? 94. What are you strengths? 95. What are your weaknesses? 96. How did you get your name? 97. Were your ancestors royalty? 98. Do you have any scars? 99. Color of your bedspread? 100. Color of your room?

[pinkblanket7]

This comic ended up being SO MUCH LONGER than I expected 😭 but I’m finally done… ignore consistency mistakes pls I was fighting for my life w this one 💔

The end. Yay. Happy hugs and stuff.

Stupid idiot dropped the remote. Smh my head.

BY THE WAY! SORRY if I got any of the ASL wrong, I got my info from google images but pls let me know if I can improve in any way it would be much appreciated

Ummm I wanna yap about this basically I was on Twitter and I saw this tweet that was like… “it’s been a long day bro can you pet me” I would put the screenshot but I already reached the 30 photo limit.

BUT obviously my deteypilled brain was like lmao that’s so them. And then I thought. More. About it. So much that I started sketching. A comic. About it…. And then this happened… so yeah

BY THE WAY the (un)official song for this comic is Impacto by Enjambre. If you don’t know Spanish, I need you to translate the lyrics and read this again because holllyyy moly does it fit…

You should just listen to the song anyways though because it’s really good. And while ur at it you should listen to the entire album. Might as well listen to the album Daltónico too. IT HAS SO MANY DETEY-CODED SONGS LORRDDD HELP ME.

Also I guess since I’m here I’ve been wanting to ask if anyone has any more detey-coded songs… pls…

OKAY ABOUT THE COMIC. This is set I’m thinking around like uhh after scarlet shedder probably idk just any time after Petey and lil petey moved in with dog man would work. I tried to keep them in character here. But like I might have probably not done that awesome of a job… I’m a drawer not a writer.

My headcanon for this comic (says the creator) is that dm just got back from being bullied by his co-workers, the mean cop and uhh that other one I forgot the name of, on top of just having a shitty day. I mean. Ruff day. (Clapping ensues) thank you I’ll be here all night. All Night…. Knight… like OFFICER KNIGHT??? Okay sorry

So basically he’s feeling upset and lowkey hating his job so he throws his hat off to the side and it’s totally not bc I just didn’t wanna draw his hat. What who said that. His hat is so stupid I hate drawing it omg. Must’ve been the wind ?? Anyways Petey was just watching tv waiting for dog man to come back cuz he couldn’t sleep. hashtag insomniac. Also LP is asleep

I read some fics before where dog man would scratch at his scar when he’s stressed/nervous and bro. Bro. It’s??!?!? I had to draw it. It kills me.

Sigghhsss anyways this whole situation is gay asf. And they don’t even. Realize it. I hate them. They both want that cookie so effin bad broooo. Can they not.

[risingsunresistance]

[livvymd]

ALL FOR YOU.

꣑ৎrequest: hello wifey, could u please do something with alfie buttle, he’s like head over heels for her but he doesn’t want to admit it. like total denial but then he just rambled about his feelings to like chip or george (anyone) and the reader overhears?? idk if that made sense lol. please and thank yew x

from my lovely wife @chlomdtvv!!

tws - slight slow burn, tension, overwhelmed feelings, fluff, emotional vulnerability, slight sexual scene (making out / kissing)

꣑ৎa/n: i have never wrote for ab im so sorry if this is lowkey dookie

It started like any other night at Chip’s flat. The low hum of background chatter threading through the room, the soft fizz and drinks of opened cans punctuating the air, the pale flicker of the tv casting a lazy glow as some football match played on, but no one was really watching. The familiar musk of worn sofas mixed with the stale scent of sweat and beer. The room was warm; not just temperature wise, but warm with the kind of easy comfort that only comes from months of routine, from too many nights spent exactly like this, from the easy bond of people who knew each others rhythms without needing to speak.

Alfie was louder than usual though. The usual grumbles and complaints were now sharper, more pointed, more on edge. His voice cut through the murmur, dragging attention even from the distracted.

“She’s not my type,” he blurted suddenly, the words rushing out clumsy and jagged, a little defensive as if he’d been caught mid-thought and was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. He shoved a crisp into his mouth and bit down harder than needed, the loud crunch sounding almost aggressive ─── like it was supposed to bolster the truth of his statement, to prove it real by sheer force.

George’s brow lifted slowly, one arch heavy with knowing amusement. His eyes locked on Alfie, calm but sharp. “You literally just brought her up. Again.”

Alfie’s scowl dropped like a shutter, teh sudden guilt flickering behind his eyes betraying how little he’d realized how obvious he’d been. His mouth tightened, and his hands moved restlessly, flicking a loose thread on his jumper, tapping on his knee, anything to fill the sudden silence he’d created.

“Yeah, well, ‘cause she said the stupidest thing earlier,” Alfie shot back quickly, his voice sharper now, defensive and rushed, like he was desperate to steer the conversation away from himself. His hands waved, emphasizing his point, but also jittery. Like he was trying to shove down the feelings bubbling under the surface. “Said crisps aren’t a proper dinner. Like, fuckin’ hell, what d’you think a pub meal is?!”

Chip snorted quietly behind his bottle, shaking his head with a smirk, eyes flicking between Alfie and George. “You’re obsessed. You know that, right?”

“Obsessed?” Alfie let out a laugh that was too loud, a little forced, and shoved off the back of the sofa, standing up suddenly as if height might lend him more authority or at least distract from the heat rising to his face. He ran a hand through his hair, then looked away for a moment, voice softer but still trying to sound casual. “Nah. I just think she’s─── I dunno. She’s alright. Funny sometimes. Bit annoying. Cute, maybe. I dunno. Not like I’ve noticed or anything.” His words stumbled over themselves, a fragile attempt at denial that only made it clearer how much he had noticed. More than once.

His voice cracks slightly on the word “cute,” but he quickly covers it with a cough, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as if the word had slipped out too honestly, too close to the surface.

“You talk about her every time we hang out,” George says flatly, eyes never leaving his phone. The casual way he states it somehow makes the truth sting sharper. “You even brought her up last stream when someone asked your favourite food.”

Alfie fidgets. A quick shrug, shifting back into his seat, then scratching at the label on the bottle in his hand as if the motion could distract him from what was being said. “Yeah, and?” he mumbles, voice barely above the room’s background noise. “She likes pasta, innit? S’why it came to mind.”

“You bought her pasta after she said that,” George points out, still doomscrolling, unfazed.

A tight, almost defensive smile quirks at Alfie’s lips. “I like to provide, George.”

The words come sharp, heavy with forced bravado, but his hand twitches just a fraction around the bottle ─── a tiny flicker of nerves betraying the act.

“Alfie,” Chip says slowly, dragging out the name like he’s reading Alfie’s thoughts before he’s even spoken them aloud. He leans back against the couch, calm amusement playing on his lips, quiet certainty in his eyes. “You’re in love with her.”

“Piss off,” Alfie mutters, jaw tightening as the words fall low and clipped. His gaze darts away, anywhere but theirs, swallowing hard as if the accusation has lodged itself deep in his throat.

But something shifts, subtle and uneasy. The spark of defensiveness flickers out, replaced by something far more fragile. His shoulders stiffen, and hes up again, pacing, slow, aimless steps across the room, like movement might drown out the noise churning in his chest. He shakes his head quickly, restless, like trying to shake loose the thoughts, to unchain the truth that’s settling heavy inside him.

“Nah,” he says again, but this time his voice is quieter; softer, almost worn out. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in the way the word falls, like he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “I’m not. She’s just... her, you know?”

His voice catches on something lodged too deep inside him, a hitch that betrays the tightness in his chest. The words stumble out unevenly, weighted with more meaning than he wants to admit.

“She’s─── she’s in my life all the time.” He swallows hard, eyes flickering away for a second, like the truth is too bright to face directly. “She talks shit, always does, makes me laugh more than anyone else. And she steals my hoodies, even when she doesn’t ask, just raids my stuff like it’s hers.” His mouth quirks into a half-smile, but there’s a sharp edge to it, like it’s both endearing and infuriating at once. “And somehow she looks good in them. Like, actually good. Which is the worst part ─── because it’s annoyin’ as fuck.” His voice is betraying his words, though.

His hands twitch at his sides, fingers curling and uncurling like they want to grab onto something solid. His breath catches in his throat, words starting to trip over themselves as if they can’t keep pace with what’s rushing out.

“..she’s got this habit of, like───” He breaks off, cheeks flushing, eyes downcast. The room feels smaller all of a sudden, like the weight of what he’s saying is pressing down on him. “───of playin’ with my hair when I’m knackered, and I always pretend I hate it, but I don’t. Not really.” His voice softens, vulnerable in a way that doesn’t suit his usual loud bravado.

He pauses again, like he might stop, like maybe this is too much. But the words keep spilling, uncontrolled now, raw and unfiltered.

“...and it’s not like I care, but I carry her heels when she gets pissed, ‘cause no one else’ll do it proper. Like, she gets too drunk and just leaves them lying around and I’m the one who ends up lugging the stupid things home. And yeah, maybe I mention her on stream sometimes, but that’s ‘cause───fuckin’ hell, I dunno───‘cause she’s there. In my head. All the time.”

His voice trails off, breath uneven, and for a long moment the only sound is the quiet shuffle of his feet as he stops pacing, the faint scrape of his shoes against the floor.

George and Chip sit still, watching him with expressions that balance between quiet amusement and something softer, something like understanding, or sympathy. The room feels heavier now, like the easy, familiar buzz of earlier has slipped away and left behind a fragile silence. It’s raw, exposed. Like they’re all holding their breath around the weight of the words Alfie didn’t mean to say, but needed to.

“I’m not in love,” Alfie insists, the words spilling out too fast, too forced, as if he’s desperately trying to push them past the lump lodged in his throat. His voice cracks slightly, uneven and rough around the edges, betraying how far from truth they really are, not even to himself. The denial feels fragile, a thin mask stretched tight over something he barely wants to admit. “I just care if she’s safe. And happy. And if anyone gives her shit, I’ll break their nose. Y'know?”

George doesn’t even blink. His gaze stays locked on his phone screen, fingers idly scrolling. His voice is flat, laced with dry sarcasm that cuts right through Alfie’s defences. “Sure,” he deadpans, not bothering to look up. “Totally normal mate behaviour.”

Alfie’s jaw flexes tightly, a quick, sharp movement that’s almost a tic. His knee starts bouncing uncontrollably, tapping rhythmically against the floor in nervous impatience. There’s a heat rising inside him now ─── thick, burning, coiled tight beneath his ribs like a restless animal clawing to get out. It twists in his chest, making his breath catch and falter. His fingers clench briefly on the edge of the couch, gripping as if to ground himself.

“And I buy her stuff,” he continues, voice gaining volume and urgency with every word, “because she never asks for anything, right? She just gets all shy and awkward about it, like I won’t drop a fuckin’ fortune on her if she just looked at something and said she liked it───”

Suddenly he cuts himself off, breath hitching sharply in his throat. Hhis heart pounds hard, hammering like it’s trying to escape from behind his sternum, echoing painfully in his ears. His eyes flicker away from George and Chip, darting around the room as if searching for somewhere safe to hide from his own confession.

“..fuck,” he mutters, voice low and thick with exasperation, “I sound like a simp.”

Chip can’t hold back the smile anymore. It’s warm, teasing but gentle, the kind of grin that’s meant to ease the tension, not mock. “You sound like a man deeply in denial,” he says, voice soft but knowing.

Alfie slumps back onto the couch with a defeated thud, the impact rattling the cushions beneath him. His palms come up quickly to drag down over his face, fingertips pressing hard against his forehead as if trying to wipe away the raw honesty he’s just spilled. For a moment, his hands stay there, hiding the tangled mess he’s unravelled into, the vulnerability he didn’t expect to feel or show.

“I’m so fucked,” he groans, voice muffled behind his hands, thick with frustration and dread. The words tumble out in a ragged sigh. “This is your fault. Both of you.”

“Mate,” George replies smoothly without missing a beat, eyes still glued to his phone, “this is entirely on you.”

From behind the slightly-ajar door, a quiet breath slips out. Barely more than a whisper.

Because what Alfie doesn’t know, what he hasn’t even noticed, is that you’re standing there, just outside in the hallway.

You came with a bag of snacks for the group, the familiar rustle of plastic in your hand as you made your way down the corridor. Then you heard your name, soft but unmistakable, carried through the wall. Curiosity stopped you cold.

You hadn’t expected this.

Your fingers grip the bag of crisps a little too tightly, the plastic crinkling softly under your frozen hand, forgotten now. Your mind scrambles to catch up, heart hammering wildly in your ears with a sharp, uneven beat. The air feels suddenly thick, heavy against your chest ─── like gravity itself pressing in, loaded with everything you weren’t meant to overhear.

He’s rambling. Unfiltered. Vulnerable in a way he never lets himself be when you’re actually there. You can still catch the disbelief in his voice, the tremor of quiet panic beneath the surface, and that sharp crack when he says “fuck,” as if the word escaped before he could stop it.

You blink, staring at the thin gap of the door. One step closer and they’d see you. Hear the telltale creak of the floor beneath your feet, the subtle shift of your presence. One step back and this moment slips away, gone forever.

Fuck it.

The door creaks softly as you push it open just a fraction, the worn hinges betraying your gentle intrusion.

Alfie’s head snaps up so fast it’s like he’s been caught in the headlights, wide eyes flickering between shock and panic. The colour drains from his face in an instant, as if every thought, every word he’d just spilled, has vanished from his mind like smoke in the air.

You blink, voice soft and steady, “hey.”

He stays silent. Completely still, frozen in place except for a faint twitch at the corner of his jaw, like he’s holding his breath and wishing, somehow, the universe could rewind itself ten minutes, erase this moment entirely.

George can’t quite hide his grin; his lips twitch with barely contained amusement. Chip stands up abruptly, shaking his head with a wry smirk. “Right, I’m grabbing a drink. Alfie, mate, enjoy the consequences of your actions.”

They both slip away, disappearing like the traitors they are, leaving behind the unmistakable aura of men who know they’ve just witnessed something devastatingly real and unfiltered.

Now it’s just you. And Alfie. And the silence that settles thick between you ─── so heavy it almost feels suffocating, dense with the aftershock of everything said, everything that can’t be taken back.

“...You heard that?” Alfie finally asks, voice tight and raw, like forcing the words out is a kind of ache.

You nod slowly, the weight of the moment grounding you. “Most of it.”

He sinks deeper into the couch, shoulders slumping forward, as if the cushions might swallow him whole and hide him away. “Brilliant. Kill me now.”

You set the crisps down carefully on the table, hands deliberate and steady despite the tension humming between you.

“You could’ve just said something, y’know.”

He looks at you. Truly looks at you. For the first time in a way that strips away everything he usually uses as a barrier. No lazy smirk curling his lips, no sarcastic glint hiding his feelings. Instead, his eyes are wide and vulnerable, flickering with a raw, unsteady emotion that makes him look almost younger than you know him to be. It’s like hes standing suddenly bare in the center of a spotlight, exposed and uncertain, unsure how to carry himself without the usual bravado shielding him.

“..'Didn’t wanna ruin it,” he mutters, voice low and fragile, barely loud enough to break the silence between you.

You take a slow, steady step forward, feeling the pulse pounding fiercely in your chest. Each beat like a drum echoing against your ribs, a frantic rhythm that makes your breath hitch. Your gaze locks on his, drawing you closer with a magnetic pull that’s impossible to resist.

“Ruin what?” you ask softly, your voice gentle but certain, folding around him like a quiet promise.

His hand lifts vaguely between you, fingers twitching as his eyes dart up briefly to meet yours before flitting away, like the air itself has thickened too much for sustained eye contact. “Us,” he says, voice tight with a mix of hope and fear. “I like how we are. I like takin’ the piss outta you and you threatening to slap me. I like you in my life.”

You stop just a breath away from him, close enough to see the subtle warmth blooming up his neck, the faint flush that colors his skin, delicate and alive beneath the low light. The heat in the room seems to shift, gathering in the space between you.

“Alf. You idiot.” Your words are quiet but firm, dripping with affection and a touch of teasing. “You’re in love with me.”

His head falls back against the couch cushion with a soft groan, as if the weight of your words settles heavily on his shoulders all at once. “Don’t say it like that, girl, I’m barely hangin’ on───”

Without hesitation, you reach out, your fingers trembling just slightly as they weave through the thick strands of his hair. The touch is slow and deliberate, feather-light at first, like you’re trying to memorize the texture of him, the way his scalp yields beneath your palm.

He freezes instantly ─── breath catching sharp and sudden in his throat, body tensing so tightly it’s as if every muscle is holding its breath alongside him. His skin prickles where your fingers thread through the roots, soft strands slipping between your digits, and for a moment the room shrinks until it’s just the two of you suspended in that fragile bubble of heat and unspoken longing.

His eyes flutter closed briefly, lashes resting against his cheeks as if the simple touch grounds him and unravels something inside all at once. The faintest sigh escapes him, a breath of surrender and surprise mingled together.

You don’t pull away. Instead, your hand lingers, fingers gently curling, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin just behind his ears. The slow rhythm of your touch is a silent confession, an unspoken ‘I’m here’ that fills the space left raw by words.

He remains still, taut but no longer stiff, the tension in his body softening just enough to hint at the vulnerability he’s been hiding. And in that moment, everything feels suspended; fragile, electric, and utterly real.

“You like this, don’t you?” you murmur, your voice low and teasing, fingers sliding slowly through the soft strands of his hair. The touch is deliberate ─── slow, warm strokes that leave a trail of heat beneath your skin and send subtle shivers through him. Your fingers curl lightly, knuckles brushing gently against his scalp as you playfully tug just enough to draw a breath.

His breath catches, ragged and uneven. “Fuckin’ hell,” he breathes, voice rough around the edges, a mixture of frustration and something utterly undone beneath your touch. His jaw clenches like he’s trying to hold himself together, but it’s a losing battle. “That’s below the belt.”

A smirk quirks at the corner of your lips. Small but victorious, like you’ve just caught him off guard and scored a secret win. Your eyes sparkle with quiet amusement, watching him unravel.

“You’re the worst at hiding things,” you say softly, your gaze locking with his. The weight of those words lingers, warm and intimate. “You know that?”

His eyes meet yours fully, wide and open, glimmering with a softness that makes your chest tighten. There’s no pretense here, no shields. Just him, honest and unguarded. “Yeah,” he admits, voice low and steady. “But you’re still here.”

Your heart stutters, a thrill shooting through your veins. “I am.”

For a moment, the world narrows down to just the two of you. Breath mingling, the faintest scent of his shampoo curling around you, the steady beat of his pulse under your fingers.

Then, breaking the silence, his voice drops even softer, hesitant but hopeful. “..You wanna, like.. come over? After this thing is over?”

You raise an eyebrow, playful and sharp, testing the waters, your voice teasing but gentle. “Go and do what, Alf?”

His cheeks flare crimson, the flush spreading from the tips of his ears down to the base of his neck, warm and unmistakable. The way his gaze flickers away before snapping back to yours makes your pulse race. “Just.. I dunno,” he stammers, fumbling for words. “Talk. Or don’t talk. Sit around and pretend I’m not a total melt. No big deal, we’ve hung out a lot of times, ya’know, gir───”

Without warning, you close the gap between you, leaning in slowly at first, breath mingling with his. Your lips brush against his, soft and tentative, testing, asking.

Then your mouth presses more firmly, hunger surfacing in the way your lips part, inviting, demanding. Your fingers tighten gently in his hair, warm and steady, as if anchoring yourself to the moment, to him.

His body stiffens at first, breaht hitching sharply, eyes fluttering closed as he surrenders. His hands reach up, trembling slightly, fingers curling around your arms like he’s afraid to lose you, afraid this moment might slip away.

The kiss deepens, slow and consuming. You can feel the subtle rise and fall of his chest beneath your hands, the quickening of his heartbeat echoing in your own ears. His lips are warm, soft, and urgent, moving with a nervous desperation that makes your own heart ache.

If he’s going to keep choking on the words, stumbling, fumbling, unable to say what’s clearly there, then you’ll say it for him. With your mouth.

You lean in, slow and deliberate, the soft warmth of your breath brushing his skin before your lips press lightly against his once again. The world narrows until there’s nothing but the quiet press of your mouth against his, the subtle, electric hum of contact sparking through your nerves. Your lips move just enough to speak without words, to promise without saying anything aloud.

You feel it. The exact moment he melts fully.

It’s like the invisible weight he’s carried for months, that heaviness in his shoulders and tightness in his chest, simply slides off and crashes down, leaving him suddenly light and unguarded. His body softens beneath you, muscles uncoiling like a spring finally released. There’s no resistance, no fight, just a quiet surrender, a letting go he didn’t know he needed.

His hand finds your hip with urgent certainty, fingers gripping like you’re the only thing tethering him to reality. You can feel the subtle pulse of his heartbeat beneath his palm, quick and uneven, as if he’s still not quite sure this is real, like any second he’ll wake up on that couch, mid-ramble to Chip, still pretending you’re just “alright” and “funny sometimes.”

Your breath catches when you finally pull back, eyes locking with his wide, stunned ones. He’s breathless, as if the air itself was stolen from his lungs, and his lashes flutter slowly in a dazed, rebooting kind of way. His lips are bitten raw, swollen slightly from the kiss, parted just enough that you can almost see the words struggling to find their way out.

“Fuck me, girl,” he breathes, voice ragged and hoarse, trembling with something close to awe. “You can’t just do that.”

You grin. Slow, smug, absolutely certain. “Why not?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, eyes dark and heavy with want. “’Cause now I’m gonna want you to do it again.”

Your smirk deepens, the satisfaction blooming warm and fierce in your chest. “Good.”

He blinks at you, disbelief and something softer swirling in his gaze. Like he’s still trying to convince himself you’re not a dream he stumbled into by accident. “So we’re doing this?”

“We are very much doing this.”

And then, that grin ─── the one that’s boyish and crooked and full of everything he can’t say out loud ─── blooms wide and unstoppable. You’ve seen it a hundred times, but never like this. Never like it’s meant just for you.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

And then, without hesitation, he kisses you back.

The kiss crashes over you both like a wave, fierce and desperate, slow and searing. His lips move against yours with an urgency that sets your skin ablaze, hands tangling in your hair, fingers pressing into the curve of your back as if to anchor himself to you. Your own hands find his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the rough stubble that’s barely there, the softness behind his ears.

Every sense sharpens. The faint taste of him on your tongue, the warmth of his body pressed close, the steady thump of his heartbeat pounding in sync with your own. The room disappears until there’s only you and him, caught in the raw, messy, beauty of this moment.

[aromantic-isopod]

okay so slight warning before i start. its 7 in the morning and i have yet to sleep so i can only hope this is coherent. and i havnt rewatched since it came out so i may misremever some stuff. also spoilers (under cut)

first off: rick riordan promised us a book accurate show. espescially after the non book accurate movies. i think he even said he preten s the moviees dont exist.

what do we gwt? fucked up plot. fuckdd up pacing. fucked up characterization. also the episodes wee boring as hell (granted some more than others but still). all because rr decided it was best to make it how he thought he should have.

i get that when adapting a book to tv some stuff will have to change but man... how do you fuck up your own book that badly

2: whenevr the trio enconters a monster/mythilogical figure, one of them will always go "youre *insert name here*" which destroys all of the tension??? or in the case of medusa she literaly says "i am medusa" and then the trio?? just follows her into her lair??? even though they are completly okay supplies/exhastion levels???

the reason they go into her lair in the book is becasue they are tired. and hungry. and this nice lady is inviting them in for a meal and maybe soem rest. idk its been a while since i read them. but you get my point.

3. in the books percy's mom, sally,was describ ed as very kind, not even raising her voice at percy when shes upset with him. mean whilw sally in the books? asshole. she yelled at and i think even threatened him. also show doesnt explain why sally put up with gabe (her boyfriend who sucks) or why she gets blue foods for percy.

4. percy's claimig in the show happened in the lake. and somehow the whole camp was there? it made much more sense in the book where it happens in the river when the capture th flag get interrupted by a hellhound attack and the two teams getting together to fight at the games middle border due to compbination of fight the hellhounds plus trying to stop the other team from winning

5. in books the various gods they meet while questing are seen as kinda casual and not very godly. except for hades. who is quiet serious and godly and threatening.

in the show hades is all cheery and very chill. every other god is so serious. (except for dionysus. but he was pretty simular to the books)

6. they go into the casino, immediatly go oh its lotus eaters (see point 2), and dont get to play any games and waste half their quest time playing them. got rid of all the fun :(

straight up can rememver why they went in in the show either

7. there didnt seem to be much of a deadline for their quest? what happened to the danger of zeus going to war if the trio doesnt get succeed and home in time? hello?

8. could not tell you anything about the ares percy fight because someone decided the best way to set a scene in the dark was to just leave everything dark and therefore very hard to see much of anything

9. the main trio felt quite...flat. why was everyone so damn serious all the time?

10. not really a show issuse but it seems worth mentioning that a good chunk of the fanbase will attack you for the slightest criticism of eithe the show or riordan. or pointing out that it is not book accurate

this isnt everthing but im tired and i have been typing for over an hour. if you want to hear more there are some good video esssays on youtube about it. there is also the pjo show crit tag

all this being said i will give some crdit where it is due and say hearing nico call for bianca in the casino, as subtle as it was, was amzing (characters from later books)

so was sally trying to explain the whole being a son of a god to percy and him just assumeing hes the second coming of christ

and i think the casting choices for the main trio was great!!

anyways tldr the only adaptation worth watching is the musical

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Okay but Reed in Take Her Under Your Wing idea: Reed making reader cockwarm him while he grades papers in his office, like reader is sitting on his lap—chest to chest so he can hear her whine against his shoulder as he fills her and ignores her. Or if not his office at the university—his office at home and have Johnny stop by and catch them

a/n: HALP NOW I'M JUST THINKING ABOUT THOSE TWO SHARING YOU

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

take her under your wing au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

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oh, he soooo would do that! like to the point that it'd become a part of his routine (at school, at his home office, and omg wait also at his office at the hospital in between surgeries)

but for this, that's fantasies about it being at his house....

you're sitting there in his lap, your arms taoung around him, chest against chest, whines muffling against his neck as your juices drip down his balls and create a wet patch on the pants he hasn't bothered taking off.

"h-how much do you have left?" you whimper as your cunt flutters around his imobile girth stretching you out, completely buried inside of you to the point that you're having a hard time sucking in breaths.

but instead of letting you know how long it'd be till he was done working, he just murmurs, "don't be a brat... patience... i'll be finished when i'm finished, don't make me add on more, becasue i could. i have more to get done than just grading papers, well enough to let you stay right here nice and warm on my cock till the sun goes down..."

now...let's talk about the johnny of it all...

his sister also lives there (currently isn't at home because obviously, the pervy professor doesn't wanna get caught red-handed) so naturally he has a key

so the fucker just lets himself in

idk, maybe to steal a bottle of reed's bougie liquor (which is in his barcard in his office... hehe, see where i'm going with this?)

when he opens the door, he stands there frozen for a second, not even sure what he's looking at

reed however a whore and barely blinks

but then when johnny realises that a, it's not his sister cockwarming her husband (he would literally puke if that was the case), and b, that it's actually you

then he just starts chuckling

but then that initial amusement develops into deep envy...

"oh, do you'd rather fuck some old perv instead of someone like me, huh?"

but of course that isn't the case. johnny is stupid hot. it's just your possessive and controlling stepbrother that has made it abundantly clear just how off-limits the guys from gamma sigma zeta (their rival frat) is

but we all know that this point that reed loves a good secret...

"...but would you like to? if it wasn't so against your big stepbro's stupid rules, would you want him to touch you? because you could just do it... i know i can keep a secret, johnny here can too, so you just have to keep your mouth shut as well..."

i'm imagining reed would show you off at first

strip you completely

slowly twirl you around like you were for sale

spread your legs and let johnny lean in and inspect how pretty that cunt is up close

he'd also make you blow johnny, but like stand behind you while you do it and guide your head, make you choke on it

i mean, the rest is just a desk rattling mess of a threesome, them swapping places between fucking your cunt and throat.

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble

[lostrologyy]

don't hang up. ghostface!simon riley x reader

a string of murders haunts your city, and when the masked man who’s been calling finally comes for you, he doesn’t want your life, he wants your body*. ⋆ 1.5k words

cw: smut. fem!reader. home invasion. stalking. obsession. dubcon. oral (fem!receiving). fear play. mask stays on. piv. unprotected sex. light choking. praise and degradation. knife use (no blood tho). forced restraint. creampie. no safeword. cursing.

a/n: idk how to feel about this one, i just needed to do something about ghostface!simon. remember english isn't my first language!

it starts with a phone call.

it's late, past midnight. you're half-asleep on the couch, phone slipping from your hand when it buzzes with a number you don’t recognize.

you answer anyway.

“…hello?”

at first, there’s silence. a static crackle.

then a voice, low, distorted, mechanical, scrapes into your ear like gravel over a speaker.

“you sound sweet when you’re tired.”

you blink, pulse stuttering. “what?”

“mmm. I like it when you sound confused.”

you sit up. “who the fuck is this?”

“wrong number,” the voice hums. “or maybe not.”

the call ends.

you stare at your screen. brow furrowed. a wrong number prank? a friend fucking with you?

you forget about it. for a while.

until the next night, and the one after that.

the calls keep coming.

every night around midnight.

always a different number. always that voice.

distorted. controlled. but always watching.

he never says your name, but you can tell he knows it. he makes references, to the show you’re watching, to what you’re wearing.

“that blanket’s not hiding much, is it?”

“I liked the red set you wore last night better.”

“do you always keep your hand under the waistband that long before you touch yourself?”

you try not to react. try not to let him know he’s scaring you. but your body gives you away.

he comments on that, too.

“you breathe faster when you’re scared.”

“I bet you’re wet now. don’t lie.”

“scared and turned on. my favorite combination.”

you call the police.

you file a report. they log it, tell you not to worry. “probably a prank,” they say. “don’t engage. don’t answer.”

you block every number. he always finds a new one.

your friends tell you to stay somewhere else. you refuse. you’re not going to be chased out of your own home.

but deep down, you know.

you’re not being pranked.

you’re being hunted.

then the murders start.

not far.

the first is downtown. a woman stabbed in her apartment. no signs of forced entry.

the second is just a mile away. a couple killed in their sleep. no witnesses. no suspects.

the media goes feral. “new wave of ghostface copycats,” they say. “modernized. smarter. crueler.”

and you start keeping a knife under your pillow.

the night it happens, you’re in bed. half-asleep. wearing nothing but one of your oversized tees and a thin pair of underwear.

it’s hot. the windows are cracked.

the air is quiet. dead quiet.

and then your phone buzzes.

unknown number.

you answer it without thinking. habit.

“...hello?”

you don’t even get a word from him this time. just breathing.

long. slow. controlled.

you sit up.

“…what do you want?”

the silence stretches.

“I want to fuck you.”

you freeze.

“I had other plans for you,” he says. “but you’ve been such a good girl. so obedient. answering every night. letting me listen to those soft little moans when you thought no one was watching.”

your skin prickles.

“and now… I want something else.”

you hang up.

you reach for the knife.

you don’t make it.

‘cause he’s already in the room.

you scream. loud. raw.

a gloved hand clamps over your mouth.

you thrash—kick, elbow, twist—but he’s huge. towering. broad. and strong enough to make it look easy.

you’re pinned flat on the bed in seconds, wrists trapped above your head. and that mask stares down at you.

ghostface.

except not the flimsy halloween kind. this one’s reinforced. tactical. matte black and bone-white, custom-carved. sharp edges. dark eyes.

his voice is even more distorted in person.

“even prettier up close.”

he lets go of your mouth just long enough for you to gasp, and for his other hand to catch your throat and squeeze. not hard. just enough to silence you.

“shhh. I don't want to hurt you… not unless you make me.”

you’re shaking. trying to scream again, but your breath won’t come.

he leans down.

“don’t worry, sweetheart. you’ll like it—eventually.”

he lets go of your neck.

you try to bolt.

he catches you by the ankle and drags you back up the bed like it’s nothing. like you weigh nothing.

you scream again. he pins you harder.

you hear the click of a knife unsheathing, then cold steel touches your cheek.

he doesn’t cut, just traces.

“so soft,” he murmurs.

the blade trails lower. down your jaw. your throat. between your breasts.

your chest heaves. your body shakes. but you don’t fight, not anymore.

you’re too scared.

too still.

too wet.

and he notices.

“already soaked?” he hums. “knew you’d be a little slut under all that attitude. so fucking ready to be taken.”

he cuts your shirt off.

just slices down the middle.

the fabric falls open. your nipples harden in the cold air.

you make a sound, something between a whimper and a sob.

“look at that. so shy now.”

he kneels between your legs.

you try to kick him again, and this time he laughs.

“cute.”

then he grabs your panties and rips them down.

“please,” you whisper.

you don’t even know what you’re asking for.

“you want me to stop?” his head tilts. “say it, and I will.”

you open your mouth.

nothing comes out.

you’re terrified. shaking. but there’s heat spreading fast between your legs. a pulse thudding low in your belly. your cunt is soaked and clenching for something you don’t want to name.

he sees it all.

“didn’t think so.”

his gloves come off.

his bare fingers are warm where they slide between your thighs and spread your folds open.

you choke on a sob.

“fuck,” he breathes. “you’re dripping.”

he leans in. presses the mask to your inner thigh. inhales.

“you smell like heaven. no wonder i couldn’t stay away.”

his mouth is on you so fast you barely have time to process it.

you cry out.

it’s wet, hot, overwhelming—his tongue flat and greedy, licking up your slit with filthy groans that vibrate into your bones.

he eats like a man starved. hands locked on your thighs, holding you open.

he doesn't stop when you shake.

doesn’t stop when you plead.

he licks and sucks until you’re crying and coming and trying to crawl away.

but he doesn't let you.

he just growls, “where do you think you’re going?” and buries two fingers inside you.

you arch off the bed with a sob.

“so fucking tight.”

“your pussy’s perfect. fuck.”

he curls his fingers, finding your sweet spot instantly.

you scream.

“louder.”

he adds a third and makes you come again.

harder.but you can’t stop it.

you’re sobbing, trembling, breaking, and he loves it.

“that’s it. let me see you fall apart.”

he pulls back just enough to press a gloved hand to your throat again.

“one more.”

“gonna make you gush for me.”

you do.

you come a third time with a scream that rips through your throat, soaking his hand, your sheets, everything.

you can’t think. you can’t breathe.

and then you feel it.

his big, meaty cock pressing to your entrance.

“ready for me, pretty girl?”

you shake your head. “n-no, I—”

“that’s not a no—that’s a scared yes.”

he pushes in.

all the way.

slow. deliberate. huge.

you sob. you’re so full it aches.

“tightest cunt i’ve ever felt,” he groans. “fuck, I was gonna gut you, you know? slice you open and watch the light leave your eyes... but then I thought, why waste something so fuckable?””

he starts to move.

and you break.

you lose track after the fifth orgasm.

you cry. you beg. you come. you plead again.

he doesn't stop.

he fucks you like he owns you.

whispers praise and filth in your ear.

“such a good girl.”

“so pretty when you cry.”

“you were made for this.”

“made for me.”

you don’t know what’s worse, the pain or the pleasure.

he presses his mask to yours. kisses you through it. you moan into the hard plastic, delirious, ruined.

“I was going to kill you,” he murmurs. “but i think i’ll keep you instead.”

when he finally comes, it’s inside you.

he groans like an animal. burying himself deep. holding you still.

“mine.”

he doesn’t pull out right away. just lies there. heavy. breathing hard.

then finally, he gets up. adjusts the mask.

you lie there. trembling. legs spread. slick everywhere.

dazed, ruined and empty.

he tucks himself away, leans over you one last time.

“you’ll see me again.”

you blink. your lips part. “w-what?”

he strokes your cheek through the glove.

“you’re mine now.”

he disappears into the dark.

the next morning, you wake up alone.

the front door’s locked. windows shut.

your knife, once hidden, is nowhere to be found.

there are no signs he was ever here except for the ache between your legs, the bruises on your hips and the cum dripping from your thighs.

your phone buzzes.

unknown number.

you answer it with trembling fingers.

a voice, low, amused, filters through the speaker.

“miss me yet, sweetheart?”

you don't answer.

you just lie back on the bed, eyes wide and your pulse racing.

and your body already aching for more.

lostrologyy © 2025.

[ashironie]

i honestly don’t think jonny and alex thought too hard about it (like you were saying). while we don’t get a lot in terms of her character i would disagree that she doesn’t have depth. i think the reason we don’t see her depth is because her questions don’t get discussions. with all the primary characters they’re questions get conversations within the podcast. hers doesn’t, which does lead to her being flatter than many of the other characters, but also considering her and jon (the main character, the character who’s pov we are seeing through)’s strained relationship i kinda like that we don’t get a conversation for her? idk, i personally don’t 100% like her, she’s great and all I just don’t like how fake she can be (as a person not as a character). Not to mention they probably didn’t explore her for time. i haven’t listened to all of protocol (i need to get back into listening) so idk what the excuse is there or if it’s excusable.

But considering the evidence I don’t think Jonny thought of it as a disability, like obviously it makes her situation a little different and it doesn’t disable her in certain ways that were mentioned, but I don’t think he thought about it more than that. Whenever i think of authors intent in tma i have to remind myself that Jonny and Alex (to my knowledge) aren’t autistic, and (again, to my knowledge) aren’t disabled mentally or physically, so they just aren’t going to automatically think of certain things like me or you would. Especially when it comes to side characters. Like you said she didn’t get much focus until season 5 which proves to me that she wasn’t supposed to be too big in the plot until that point, maybe a bit before.

Like you said, them handling Melanie’s blindness was very well, so I don’t think they’d fumble like that if they knew Georgie was or would be considered disabled.

When it comes to impact though, I do agree, seeing the fact she is disabled and seeing how that affects her day to day would be interesting. And I agree with the reading that she is disabled for the reasons mentioned.

on the topic of disability representation, i kinda like when it’s not brought up. If it’s the main character than duh, you have to, that’s a big part of someone. But if it’s a side character, I think it’s more realistic if it’s just not shown to the camera. Reminds me of what it’s like in my own life, knowing so many disabled folk but never knowing a case study on them. They’re just silly, and that’s about it. I like when media just says “oh and this is a person, nothing to see here tho” because that’s what my brain does to disabled people. I have MANY mental disabilities but most of the time that’s just a “oh yeah and” to others in my life, even to my closest friends, i have a disability I rarely talk about with them, and they barely know anything about, despite the disability being very important to how i function and my quality of life.

sorry for the ramble, it’s midnight where I am and i couldn’t be bothered to proof read this

tldr: jonny probably didn’t realize georgie would be considered disabled because he isn’t so that’s probably not his first thought for characters, and she was probably going to be a much more minor character. I personally like completely invisible disability representation because it feels realistic to me as a person around a lot of disabled folk, and it normalizes disabilities more imo.

i feel like not enough ppl talk about the fact Georgie is like. Brain damaged. Obviously she has mobility and can advocate for herself but having an entire part of your brain shut off is very much a disability.

I don't like how people depict her as being 100% high functioning most rational and emotionally stable person in the cast when ever scene she's in sorta hints the opposite to me

Like shes incredibly blunt, talks over people in conversations, and has admitted she has to like. mask. in front of people by acting like shes so worried when she doesnt actually care.

obviously it never comes across as mean or rude. but it is sorta. there. We don't see a lot of her in 'normal' situations but i dont think its a stretch to assume she might have problems respecting other people's feelings, has trouble establishing habits, or struggles to motivate herself for necessary, boring tasks like cleaning or making appointments.

idk its hard to talk about what i think are hints of her being disabled without it sounding liek 'WeLl In HeR SiTuAtIoN ItS JuStIfIeD' like don't careeee if she was right or wrong i care that her pattern of behavior is like mine before I got on lamotrigine.

[whisperedmeg]

UNTOUCHED ⋆˚꩜｡ spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer’s never done this before, and you’re more than happy to teach him how — slowly, thoroughly, and with plenty of praise. he’s always been an eager learner, but you weren’t expecting him to enjoy it this much.

genre: smut | w/c: 2.3k

tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI!! virgin!spencer, experienced!reader, heavy praise, reader calls spencer good boy & other pet names, subtle sub!spencer vibes, making out, breast/nipple play, brief masturbation (f), fingering, finger sucking, oral (f receiving), reader talks him through it, spencer cums in his pants, glasses!s2!reid, no use of y/n

a/n: yeah so this is probably the filthiest thing I have ever written (but still somehow so soft??). nobody look at me idk what came over me. it just happened, ok? lmao enjoy BYE. tbh not my most eloquently written fic but I haddd to get this out of my system

Your relationship with Spencer, although wonderful, is still very new. There’s been a few slow, tentative makeouts on this very couch, but nothing more. It always stops before things escalate too far — he pulls back, or gets called into work, or a TV commercial ruins the moment, or some other force of the universe steps in to keep all the orgasms you know you could be having behind lock and key.

Tonight, you have plans to change that once & for all.

You’re not sure who leaned in first. It might’ve been you — let’s be honest, it usually is — but by the time you’re in Spencer’s lap, one knee on either side of his thighs and your fingers curled into the soft fabric of his shirt, it doesn’t really matter. His lips part against yours, pink and already a little swollen. His glasses are fogged at the edges, and his hands hover uselessly at your waist like he can’t decide what to do next.

So you make the decision for him.

You rock forward, slow and deliberate — just enough to drag your body against his — and his breath catches on a quiet sound he probably doesn’t even realize he making.

The cushions dip under your knees, and everything smells like him: old paper, bergamot soap, something faintly spicy underneath. He tastes like a heavenly mix of breath mints and the honey tea you made for him earlier.

Spencer always kisses like he’s studying you — memorizing pressure points, cataloging every hitch of breath, every soft sound. The drag of your bottom lip. The little touches that make your spine arch.

But there’s tension in him, too.

You feel it in the set of his shoulders, the stiffness in his hands, the twitch of his thighs when you shift your weight. Something’s holding him back.

You slow the kiss, draw away just enough to trace the line of his cheekbone with your nose, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear.

“Spence,” you murmur, breath warm against his skin. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

He stills.

“I—” His voice falters, eyes wide behind his crooked glasses. “I haven’t really, um… done this before.”

You blink.

“You haven’t…” you echo, tilting your head.

His ears flush deep red as he shakes his head.

“I mean— some stuff, yeah,” he says quickly. “Kissing. A little touching. But… not much more than that.”

There’s something raw in his expression, like he’s waiting for you to flinch.

Instead, you kiss him. Soft and steady, nothing showy — just the kind of kiss that says I want you anyway.

When you pull back, his eyes are still closed.

“Spencer,” you whisper.

He opens them slowly.

“You being a virgin isn’t gonna scare me off.”

You thread your fingers into his hair, pushing it back gently from his forehead. His curls are soft, and he shivers when your thumb grazes his ear.

“I kind of like the idea of it, actually,” you murmur.

“You do?”

You smile. “I think I’d like being the first person to show you how good you can feel.”

He goes quiet again, clearly overthinking.

“You’re not afraid, are you?” you ask softly, brushing your nose against his.

He swallows. “No, no. I just… I don’t want to do something wrong. I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Baby,” you whisper against his mouth. “You’re not going to mess anything up.”

You kiss him once more — slow, deep — and feel the hitch in his breath when your tongue brushes his.

“I’ll teach you,” you murmur with a smirk.

You shift to straddle him more fully, your skirt hiking higher around your hips as you settle across his lap. You can feel him under you, hard and twitching through his pants, and he gasps when your hips press down.

“You okay?” you ask, voice low.

He nods too fast.

You raise an eyebrow. “Use your words, Spencer.”

“Yes,” he breathes. “I-I’m okay.”

You smile and roll your hips again, dragging the lace between your legs over the firm outline of his cock. You kiss along his jaw, down the column of his throat, mouthing at a spot above his collarbone until he shivers.

“You like that, don’t you?” you murmur against his skin.

“Yes,” he chokes, hips jerking upward. “Fuck—yes.”

You laugh softly as your hands slip under the hem of your top, peeling it off slowly and tossing it aside.

Spencer stares like a baby deer caught in headlights.

Your black lace bra is sheer, nipples already peaked beneath the fabric. You reach behind you, unclasp it with one practiced motion, and let the straps fall from your shoulders.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t even blink.

“Touch me,” you murmur.

His hands are shaking when they rise — gentle at first, tentative. He cups your breasts like he’s sure he might be dreaming. His thumbs brush over your nipples and you let out a soft moan, pressing forward into the touch.

“Harder, baby,” you whisper. “Don’t hold back.”

He obeys. His touch deepens, massaging one breast as he catches the nipple of the other between his thumb and forefinger, upping the pressure as he rolls and twists. His confidence grows.

And then his mouth replaces his hands.

His tongue is hesitant at first, then deliberate, then filthy. He sucks your nipple into his mouth and his teeth scrape, just barely, as you grind down against him in response.

“That mouth,” you gasp, threading your fingers into his hair. “God, Spencer. You’re doing so well already, sweet boy.”

He groans into your skin, and you feel every twitch of his hips beneath you, the desperation in every movement.

“So good for me,” you murmur, letting your thumb trace the flush on his cheek. “Such a fast learner.”

He whines — helpless and sweet — and you cradle his jaw, bringing his face back up to meet yours to kiss him again, messy and open-mouthed, before guiding his hand between your thighs. Your skirt slips higher, lace panties exposed, already damp.

You press his fingers down against the wet spot.

“Feel what you do to me,” you whisper. “I’ve been wet since the first time you kissed me tonight.”

You move his hand against the lace, helping him slide two fingers along your covered folds. He gasps when he feels how wet you are — not just damp, not just eager — soaked.

“Oh my god,” he breathes.

“Not God,” you murmur cheekily, smirking as you kiss the corner of his mouth. “Just me.”

You draw his fingers upward to circle your clit once — slow, precise — and then pull his hand away.

Spencer watches, dazed, as you slide off his lap and lay down against the couch cushions, hiking your skirt up higher and moving your panties to the side. His breath shudders out in a long, low exhale, his eyes fixed on your bare core.

Then you touch yourself for him — slow, deliberate strokes, dragging through your slick and back up again to circle your clit. Your eyes never leave his.

“This is how I want you to touch me,” you murmur. “Not too fast. Just enough pressure. Like this, okay?”

He nods, transfixed.

You slide two fingers inside yourself, moaning softly, then draw them out again. You hold them up to him with a smirk.

“Want a taste?” you ask, voice thick.

He nods greedily.

“Say please, baby.”

“Please,” he whimpers.

You press your fingers to his mouth, and he sucks them in without hesitation. His tongue curls, eyes fluttering shut as he moans, licking you clean like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.

“Good boy,” you breathe, pulse skipping. “Taste how much I want you.”

He sucks harder. You see the way his hips shift — searching for something to rut into and failing. He’s panting now, tension coiled so tight you can feel it.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, slide your hand down, and curl your fingers around his wrist again.

“You try now,” you murmur.

You guide his hand back between your thighs and help him find your clit. His fingers are a little shaky, but you hold him there and let him feel the way your body responds beneath his touch.

“That’s it,” you whisper. “Just like I showed you. You can go slow.”

He moves carefully, eyes flicking between your face and your core, trying to memorize every twitch and sound.

You sigh, low and breathless. “Good job, baby. Feels s’good.”

Your praise lands like a spark — his shoulders straighten, his strokes grow bolder, more confident. He draws tight little circles over your clit, then dips down, gathering more slick before coming back up again, mirroring your earlier actions.

“Jesus,” he breathes, staring at you. “You’re so wet.”

“For you, Spence,” you pant, arching into his touch. “I’m like this because of you.”

He groans, and you can feel the effort it takes for him to keep his hips still, to stay focused on you instead of chasing the heat building in his own body.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “You’re gonna make me come like this if you keep going.”

“I want to,” he says eagerly. “I want to make you feel good. Please let me make you come. Please.”

God, does he sound desperate for it. You lean up just enough to kiss him messily before gently easing his hand away.

“And you will,” you murmur, shifting your legs open wider. “But not like this. Want you to do it with your mouth.”

His breath hitches. His pupils dilate. And within a few seconds, he’s nodding with excitement.

You smirk and hook your fingers into the waistband of your panties, peeling them down slowly and letting them fall to the floor.

He’s between your thighs in a heartbeat — laid out on his stomach, elbows braced on the couch, arms wrapped around your thighs, chin tilted up and eyes locked on your cunt.

You run your fingers through his hair and smile down at him softly as you guide him closer. His warm, shaky breath ghosts over your skin.

“Start slow,” you whisper. “Use your tongue and lips together. Don’t overthink it. Just feel.”

He nods, then leans in.

The first lick is cautious — a single drag of his tongue from bottom to top — and he pauses at the end, waiting. When you shiver, he breathes out like he’s been given permission.

“Good,” you murmur. “So good, baby. Keep going.”

He does.

The second lick is more confident. By the third, he’s circling your clit with shaky precision — steadier each time.

“That’s it,” you breathe. “Such a fast learner, aren’t you, Spence?”

He groans — low and hungry — the sound vibrating through your deepest parts as he nods against your core.

And then he devours you.

There’s nothing careful about it now. His tongue moves in messy circles, his lips parting, mouth opening wider. He sucks at your clit and moans like a man possessed.

Your thighs clamp around his shoulders and his rhythm falters — gets sloppier, wetter, better. He’s all-in now, relentless, eating you out like he’s starving, like this is what he was made for. Like he’s been waiting his whole life to make you fall apart. He’s taking cues from your reactions — repeating his movements when you moan, experimenting with his tongue as your hand tightens in his hair, reading every twitch of your hips as if it’s an answer key.

“Oh, fuck—Spencer, YES. Good boy. My good boy.”

The words land heavy, and he whimpers loudly in response. His hands grip your thighs hard, and that’s when you feel it — the tension in his body, the way he’s moving. Subtle at first, then more desperate. You glance down and catch the flex of his hips as they grind into the couch cushion beneath him.

“Don’t stop,” you pant. “Don’t you fucking stop, Spence. You’re doing so good for me. ‘M so close.”

He groans — guttural — as his lips close around your clit once more, and your orgasm rips through you like heat lightning. It hits all at once, spine arching, thighs locking tight around his head as you cry out his name, shuddering through it.

He doesn’t let up. His tongue keeps moving, soft but focused, even as you writhe under him. The aftershocks roll through you, deep and dizzying.

Somewhere in the haze you hear it — a quiet, choked sound. A sharp inhale. A low groan.

You don’t register what it means until you feel him go still. His arms lock. His mouth freezes.

When he finally lifts his head, his face is flushed and slick, lips swollen, and his eyes…

His eyes are wide. Embarrassed. Almost guilty.

“I—I didn’t mean to,” he stammers, voice wrecked. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t— I just—”

You blink, confused for a moment before it hits you:

Spencer Reid, your perfect, sweet boyfriend, just came in his pants, completely untouched.

Came. In. His. Pants.

Untouched.

Your heart stutters.

“Oh,” you whisper. “Spence.”

He flinches. “I’m so sorry—”

“Hey.” You sit up a bit, still breathless, and reach down to cradle his face between your palms. His skin is hot — not just blushing, but burning.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you say, voice low but sure. “Please look at me.”

He does, barely.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

He blinks. “What?”

You smile. “That mouth of yours just gave me an orgasm that made me see stars. And then you came in your pants just from eating me out? That’s so hot, Spence.”

He swallows, stunned. His gaze softens. The worry’s still there, but it’s quieter now. His eyes shine.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, straightening his glasses and smoothing his hair. “You’re more than okay.”

You guide him up, help him collapse against your chest, your fingers still threading through his hair as his breath slows. He’s quiet, pliant, curled into you like a lazy puppy.

Eventually he shifts, wincing a little at the sticky mess in his pants.

You giggle.

“C’mon,” you murmur, kissing his temple. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You tug him gently off the couch and take his hand, leading him toward the bathroom. He hesitates, glancing down at the wet stain on his slacks, embarrassment rising again, but you squeeze his fingers and smile.

“Don’t look so ashamed,” you whisper. “You made a mess because you were too turned on by me to stop. That’s nothing to be ashamed of, baby.”

You lean in, lips brushing his neck.

"It's incredibly sexy.”

He groans softly — part laugh, part surrender.

“We’re not done, you know,” you add as you push open the bathroom door. “That was just your first lesson.”

He swallows hard. “N-not done?”

You shake your head as you step closer, fingers unfastening his belt with ease, and press a wet kiss just below his ear.

Your lips curve.

“You’ve still got so much to learn.”

ᝰ.ᐟ

PSA: likes do very little for promoting posts on tumblr! if you'd like to support a fic, please reblog!

masterlist

[bluebnny]

hellooo how are youu?? js dropping by a lil request!

how would law react if his s/o said there safeword mid sex? :>>

uhh I don't know what else to add in so the rest is up to u😅😅

Safe word

trafalgar law x gn!reader

contents: reader using their safeword during sex, reader is pretty shaken up, but law takes good care of them - GN reader, no descriptions of genitalia, reader sits down to pee

warnings: MDNI! descriptions of very rough and painful sex (only in the beginning), safeword use, tiny bit of angst, but mostly fluff. law is the way I like to write him (so not super affectionate, but caring in his own way)

a/n: I love this request! I was actually thinking of writing this at some point bc this is such a good prompt! Not sure if you wanted something like hurt/comfort, but I tried to do it according to how I usually try to write law. Also, I have never used a safe word before, so idk if this is realistic at all lol. Hope you like it, enjoy! <3 :D

word count: 2.079

“I’ll be quick.” Is all Law had said before grabbing your arm and pulling you into his quarters like it was the most natural thing in the world.

But that was well over an hour ago.

Here you are, pushed up against the wall of your shared bedroom, desperately trying to catch your breath as Law drives himself into you with a force that has you scrambling for purchase.

You’re currently three orgasms into this so-called “quickie”, and that delicious line between pleasure and pain has long since been crossed.

“Too much…” You whine, subconsciously clawing at the wall from the painful pressure rising in you.  

“You can take it, pretty.” Law is panting into your ear, completely oblivious to the state you’re in. “Just be good f’me a little longer, yeah?”

And you try; your fourth orgasm building so suddenly you don’t even have time to process it. A few more thrusts, and your exhausted body is forced to cum yet again.

His forehead pins your face to the wall from behind, forcing you to arch your back with the bruising grip he has on your hip. Law’s other hand is between your legs, stimulating you at a brutal pace, taking more than you can give.

All you can do is cry out as the rush overtakes you. It charges through your body at lightning speed, leaving a numb sort of soreness in its wake. Laying itself like cotton over your ears; blunt and deep. Like a knife to the stomach.

You feel on the verge of passing out, and still, he isn’t stopping. Your mouth is dry, vision blurry, and the feverish heat wracking your body feels like an ice bath.

“I can’t, Law! Red, red!” You manage to sob out the safe word between spasms, and that finally gets his attention.

Two more thrusts.

That’s how long it takes him to process your words.

Then, he freezes. As if struck by lightning.

His grip on your hip softens, and he leans back, no longer trapping you against the wall.

There’s a moment of silence, but you can’t even begin to worry about what he’s going to say next, entirely too wrecked to do anything other than cry.

You’ve never used your safe word before, and you have no idea how Law will react to it. It’s unlikely that he will get angry, but a part of you is still apprehensive. You feel vaguely guilty, even though you know you shouldn’t.

A moment later, Law’s hazy mind seems to have fully processed the situation, because he starts moving. He’s thankfully lucid enough to take hold of your hips when pulling out, as you would otherwise have collapsed from the lack of support. He’s taller than you and as a result, the force of his thrusts made your body jolt upwards, barely even standing on tiptoes.

He carefully turns you around, bending down to inspect your face more closely. It's honestly quite gentle, the way he handles you. Much more than you have come to expect from his usual demeanour.

Your gazes meet, and despite his permanent look of annoyance, you don’t miss the genuine concern in Law’s eyes. It’s rare for him to be like this. Or at least, it’s rare for him to let it show this much.

It feels like an eternity before he speaks.

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Despite his low voice, there’s genuine worry in his face, and it shakes you up a little to see Law like this. So sincere. “Do you need to be alone? Should I leave?”

That takes you even more by surprise. “No! I mean, I want you to stay… if you want to.” Despite the fact that you’re a little apprehensive of Law when he drops his stoic demeanour, you also really don’t want to be by yourself right now.

“Of course.” Law pulls you into a tender hug, resting his chin on top of your head.

You accept the comfort he offers you, gripping him tighter and burying your face into his half-buttoned shirt. He simply holds you while you cry. It’s neither from pain nor fear, not really. Maybe it’s guilt.

When you’ve calmed down a few minutes later, Law looks at you again.

“Let me clean you up, ok?”

You nod, following him to the bathroom.

He still has that cautious air around him. The same one he has after a really bad fight. Or whenever he makes you cry. It’s always weird seeing him like this, but at least it means he’s cooled down.

But you don’t have much time to think about it further when Law interrupts your thoughts.

“Did I hurt you?” His question is very direct; his strong gaze makes you squirm.

You don’t know how to answer, so you simply shake your head.

He doesn’t look convinced but seemingly decides not to push it further. “Right… well either way, you’re not getting out of the aftercare.” He scolds you, eyes narrowed.

The lazy attempt at bickering brings a smile to your face. “Wouldn’t dream of it, doc.”

He squints at you again when you use the nickname he hates but doesn’t take the bait. Instead deciding to assess your neck and shoulders, which are littered in bruises and bite marks.

You love watching Law when he’s like this. All serious and focused, eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinting in that specific way that tells you he’s deep in thought. You like watching the lines on his face and finding the first grey hairs among the black ones. Plus, getting Law’s undivided attention is always nice, as it’s a rare occurrence.

After spending a few minutes inspecting your bruises, he stands upright again and motions his head in the direction of the toilet.

“Go pee. I’m taking care of this after.” And with that, he turns to grab one of the many first-aid kits he has lying around in the sub. This one is in the cabinet under the sink, and probably the one used most often, as it’s the one he usually reserves for aftercare.

You don’t protest, instead wobbling over to the toilet on unsteady legs, sitting down much less gracefully than you would have liked to. You’ve learned long ago that arguing with him about this kind of stuff is pointless. And you don’t need another gross lecture on urinary tract infections. The presentation still haunts you to this day.

Law is busy unpacking the red box on the bathroom counter, and only briefly glances in your direction when he senses you standing up.

After washing your hands, you turn to face Law again, who wordlessly helps you sit on the counter. He already has a cotton pad with alcohol ready, applying it to any bruised areas he finds.

It’s completely pointless; your skin is unbroken except for one small spot on your shoulder where he’d bitten you. But you enjoy the attention too much to argue, and it’s not like he would listen anyway if you told him to stop.

When he’s done – much too soon for your liking – he hands you a glass of water.

“Do you feel any pain or soreness?” Law’s gaze is scrutinizing. Unavoidable.

“Hmmm… no, I don’t think so.” You ponder, drinking the water under his close supervision. “I think I just need a nap.”

“Of course.” He looks satisfied with your answer. “It goes without saying, but you have the rest of the day off.”

“‘… a nap with my boyfriend.’ Is what I meant to say” You quickly correct yourself, trying to put on your most innocent expression.

He gives you another look.

“Y/n, I have work to do.”

“Yes, but now that I think about it, my muscles are quite sore from that position. I think some warmth would really help them relax, but you know I get cold if I’m in bed by myself…” It’s difficult not to laugh at his deadpan expression, but you manage to only let out a little smirk.

“Are you seriously trying to pass off cuddling as a medical necessity?”

“Ok, well obviously it sounds stupid if you put it like that.” You put on your most hurt expression, knowing how weak he is to it. “But were you really just going to wipe me with some disinfectant and then leave?”

Law grumbles, muttering something under his breath that sounds a lot like “manipulation”. But he also doesn’t argue further. Letting out a defeated sigh, he speaks. His expression shows none of the exasperation in his voice.

“Fine. If you think it’ll help the pain…” His sharp look softens a little. You can tell the exact moment he switches from doctor to boyfriend. “Let’s cuddle. For… medicine.”

He follows as you lead him to the bed, a wide grin on your face you’re no longer attempting to hide. But you start arguing again when he tries to climb under the covers next to you.

“No pants!”

“What? Why not? These are clean.”

“Yeah, but your legs are warm, and my hips are reeeeally aching right now... I need the warmth.” You pout, trying to look as weak as possible. It works. Of course, it does.

He scoffs at that. “You’re shameless.”

“And you’re my boyfriend. Don’t act like cuddling with me half naked is a death sentence!” You snap.

The sharp tone makes him smirk – the first real smile you’ve seen him give all day. You know he finds it funny when you scold him, so you give him a little glare, hoping it will make his smile last longer.

When he gets in bed with you – only in underwear and a tank top this time – you immediately cuddle up to him. He’s not actually that warm; he never is. You just lie to him about it. It’s easier than trying to explain how he is the weird one for not seeking out physical contact.

Deciding that he’s still too much of a flight risk, you climb on top of him and rest your chest on his. He doesn’t protest, automatically starting to massage your hips with his large hands.

The silence stretches comfortably between you. All you hear is Law’s heartbeat and the rustling of the blanket from where his hands are working your muscles. It's incredibly relaxing.

The time goes by like this, and you even doze off for a little while. That is, until you’re suddenly woken up by Law shifting beneath you.

It seems like he wants to get up, and you give him a stern, disapproving look.

“What? I have a lot of work to do. I’ll be back in a few hours.” It's clear how hard he's trying not to sound like he's defending himself.

“No, stay!” But you can tell from the look he gives you that he won’t, so you try to get whatever you can. “Fine, then. At least take me with you.”

“You want to sit around in my office while I work?” He looks confused.

“Yeah, why not? You look hot in those reading glasses. And I like to see you all brooding and concentrated.”

He scoffs, clearly at a loss for words.

As much as Law is a terrifying and unyielding person, you’ve learned that the one way to make him squirm is to compliment him. Specifically, his looks. He gets too flustered to say anything coherent, letting you do whatever you want. In this case, follow him around work like a lost puppy.

“Whatever…” He mutters under his breath. “Guess I can keep an eye on you like that.”

“If you do that, we’ll just be staring at each other the whole time.” You tease. “If you want to stare deeply into my eyes, we might as well stay in bed.”

He groans and avoids your gaze, which is how you know you’ve got him. But Law still manages to get the upper hand on you.

He abruptly gets out of bed with you still in his arms. Simply carrying you like a koala and plopping you down in front of the dresser.

Your surprised squeal quickly turns into laughter, although his own face remains unchanged.

“If you’re this loud while I work, I’m throwing you out. Now get dressed.”

Ignoring his threats, you focus on picking your outfit. You wear your comfiest pair of pyjama pants paired with a sweater you’re “borrowing” from Law. It’s his favourite outfit on you, and you know it.

Your revenge is only just starting…

Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it!! This is inspired by me always asking my bf to sleep in boxers bc he has warm legs, and my feet are ice cold 99% of the time.

Dividers made by me

This is my fic, don't repost or use in AI training! Reblogs are always appreciated <3 Here are my rules, and my masterlist.

[mister13eyond]

Thinking about Mettaton again god!!!!

[lorax177]

the above and:

-my pronouns themselves are considered radical (i do not use she/her or he/him, only they/them--or it/spivak if you're feeling fancy)

-speaking about my experiences as unaligned/intersex/transneutral/angenital/nb in general gets me shut down/othered/spoken over/accused of being a freak or bigot in cis and trans spaces alike

-threat of violence due to my presentation not fitting into the binary. which ofc is the case for non-passing binary trans people, intersex people, and gnc folks, but like, i feel like the fact that the nonbinary desire to be seen as outside the binary...idk, seems especially relevent. like when i introduce myself with my pronouns im essentially outing myself as "one of /those/" instead of being able to pass myself off as just being a cis person with atypical presentation/body characteristics. it's seen as anything from rude/uncomfortable to aberrant. most binary people just don't get the idea of gender neutrality.

-p much everything is gendered. there's not a whole lot of options outside of alternating/forgoing/diy when it comes to like everything. i would love to walk into a store and not have to think about "men's or women's xyz".

-expanding on that, people are always trying to sort me into a binary based on every little thing, and it's exhausting to try and balance things so i dont come off as too masculine or too feminine. like, there is no "right" way to gender me. it's not like if i get called one or the other it would feel euphoric.

-no options on legal documents that both protect me from government targeting and also honor my actual gender. so i have to choose between being seen and being safe, even if i get every little thing changed. which is not really feasible anyway.

-just the sheer number of binary people compared to nonbinary people. my gender is almost always in the minority because it's almost unheard of to find any nonbinary people, especially unaligned/transneutral ppl. Even in trans spaces, it's hard to find people who share my gender (neutrois). it sucks to always be the only one in the room with my gender.

-transition is hard because i have to jump through more hoops to be able to get the care i need, and a lot of doctors are still operating under the assumption that there's only 2 genders. so it limits the people willing to work with me.

-LOTS of assumptions and microaggressions get thrown at me by everyone, even well-meaning trans people. Assuming my agab, making generalizations about my gender (or assumed gender), lumping me in with one or the other, etc. it's frustrating but i can't talk about it bc ill be seen as too aggressive or whatever.

-canonically nonbinary characters are few and far between, and usually treated poorly by the fanbase and often also by the creators/narrative.

that's all i can think of for now, i might add to this later if i think of anything else.

❗️❗️ This is asked entirely in good faith. This post is intended to open dialogue and help with solidarity and understanding. ❗️❗️

I would like to hear specifically from nonbinary people how the system of exorsexism/enbyphobia uniquely targets and affects you. Things that you feel other demographics do not experience. Reblogs and replies are very encouraged! If you would prefer, you could dm or send an ask to be added anonymously by me.

This is in the spirit of wanting to understand. I am listening. I encourage all binary trans people to not speak on this topic and let nonbinary people do the talking here. Reblog the post to spread it, but please say nothing.

Any and all people who identify as nonbinary are encouraged to participate. This is not agab-locked. If you are agender, trans neutral/neutrois, genderfluid, bigender, trigender, multigender, xenogender, genderqueer, third gender, two spirit, or any other gender not wholey contained within the strict binary of "man" or "woman", this post is for you. Even if you have already posted on the trans fem or trans masc versions, if you are nonbinary, you are welcome here.

This is not bait to start a fight. I will block without hesitation anyone who is actively being a shithead on this post. I want to hear and uplift your voices by getting it directly from you.

Click this to access the trans fem and trans women version of this post.

Click this to access the trans masc and trans men version of this post.

[emotionalrodent]

Batboys X Reader Headcanons

Prompt: What small things they do when they’re in love?

Characters: Dick, Tim, Jason, and Bruce

CW: Mild creepy-ish behavior from Tim and Maybe Dick? (Idk I just want to be careful). Also Jason makes a joke about Roy living as a vegetable.

———————————————————————————

Dick

💙 He will try to impress you any way he can. Whether that be making a joke he thinks you’ll like or showing off his athleticism. He’s always performing for you, waiting for the slightest smile.

“Did you see that, Y/N? Watch, I’ll do it again just for you.”

“What, you’re impressed by that? I can hold a handstand for way longer than that.”

💙 I see Dick as the kind of guy to make a playlist that reminds him of you or if he’s really whipped, try to write a song about you. You’ll probably never hear it but he’s thought about it more than a few times.

💙 Stares at you literally any chance he gets. He has no shame either, you’re eye candy to him and he’s not at all afraid to admit it. Dick does panic a tiny bit inside if you make eye contact when he’s staring but plays it off by winking at you.

💙 He learns couple dances to literally any song he can, waiting for the opportunity to dance with you.

💙 If you’re in the public eye, he’ll read fanfics shipping the two of you. He’s so petty sometimes he argues in the comments with people who ship you with someone else.

———————————————————————————

Tim

💚 Dick reads fanfics but Tim writes them. He doesn’t post them anywhere and just keeps them for himself in a folder on his computer. He’d die before he shows them to you or admits it but if you somehow got ahold of them, you’d be surprised by the quality. Someone get this man to a publisher.

💚 Talks about you unprovoked CONSTANTLY to anyone who will listen. It’s like he’s actively trying to bring you up in every conversation, it happens so often.

“Y/N made that recipe once, it was amazing.”

“This reminds me of when Y/N-”

“Ugh, we get it, Tim!”

💚 Tim likes anytime he gets any kind of validation from you so he’ll do whatever he can to help you with the smallest things. You have a loose button on your shirt? Suddenly he’s a professional tailor.

💚 He’ll rehearse subtle pick up lines or just anything he can use to flirt, he wants you to think he’s charming after all. His attempts rarely go as he’d planned though, he’s a little awkward when he first realizes his feelings for you.

💚 Tim has never been too adept at drawing, not that he’s ever tried to be. Yet he seems to always find himself tracing your features on any scrap of paper he can find.

———————————————————————————

Jason

❤️ Unlike his brothers, Jason’s a bit more subtle in his change in behavior when he’s in love. He tries to be, at least.

❤️ Usually, his actions speak louder than his words. He’ll make sure you always have snacks on you or even try to cook for you. He unconsciously cleans for you which also extends to his appearance as he tries to look his best too. If you mentioned losing something, he’ll look for it for hours.

❤️ Since it takes a little longer for Jason to actually fall in love, he tends to be more sentimental when he’s fallen. He’ll write sonnets for you, hoping that he’ll be able to read them for you one day. Although he doesn’t have much time for reading anymore, your name finds itself in the margins of the books he does own. Roy finds the books and sonnets and teases him relentlessly for it.

“Ooo, what do we have here? ‘If I should think of love, I'd think of you’. I didn’t know you had a heart, Jaybird.”

“Put those down now unless you’re ready to live your life as a vegetable, Harper.”

❤️ Once, he asked when your birthday was and looked up if your zodiac signs were compatible just to see. He would be a little bothered if it you two weren’t compatible though.

❤️ Jason doesn’t typically watch tv series and prefers movies or short films but he’ll sit down and binge ten seasons with you, no complaints.

❤️ He kinda forgets how to act normally around you sometimes so he goes back and forth from being unusually sweet to being weirdly mean to overcompensate.

———————————————————————————

Bruce

🩶 Bruce finds himself worrying over you more than he had previously. He asks more about your whereabouts, who you’re with, when you’re expected to be back, all things he never contemplated too hard on.

🩶 He tends to be more being more relaxed with you than most others. Bruce is so many different personalities to several different people but with you, he’s just Bruce.

🩶 Once Bruce realized he was in love with you, he tried to learn more about your interests so he has more chances to talk to you.

🩶 He makes a point to set aside time for you two, something that tends to be difficult for him. He doesn’t even care what the two of you do with that time, he just wants to see you.

🩶 Bruce is still a little stoic with you but sometimes he lets something flirty slip. You’re left surprised and flushed but he refuses to repeat what he said. He just takes his time to appreciate the look on your face.

🩶 He often imagines how you’d get along with his family. He wants them to meet the most important person in his life and plans for them to, but he’s still a bit nervous for their reactions.

“Y’know, I think Damian would like you.”

“Damian?”

“My son. You should be honored, it’s quite the feat.”

———————————————————————————

I really struggled with Bruce for this one if you couldn’t tell so I’m really sorry if I messed up with him. I also wanted to thank you guys for 1k notes on my Red Hood fic! I didn’t think it would get as much attention as it did but I’m really glad you guys liked it. Thank you for reading!

[flowersandfruitss]

I think why the message of squid game is hopeless for a lot of people including myself and It's not because Gi-hun dying but the way he did, he was living his life depressed and alone, and he died in that same way, it doesn't feel hopeful at all.

He couldn't even have a little of comfort in his last moments, he was there only to suffer at the final of everything and it fucking hurts a lot. He chose good, he chose humanity, he chose hope but he was hopeless in himself, he thought he didn't have any way to fix himself and his relationship with his daughter and how do you expect me to feel such hope about this when they show me how ruined he was? Do you really can inspire others to have hope when you lost hope in yourself long time ago? And since it is meant to be a "realistic ending" in real life is this how it works? Also the good characters dying because they chose goodness or only suffering because of it doesn't make me want to be good or kind, if you always have to suffer because you chose to be a kind person and is the only way then Idk, it doesn't motivate me as it was intended to react like Noeul did when she saw Gi-hun during his last act.

Because it's not always like this, because chosing to be good is not meant to always suffer and have a lot of pain in your heart and I know Noeul and Gyeonseok maybe meant to show this at the final but if they did, why not Gi-hun who also deserved this and represented this better than them? Who was with much more screentime and made us feel so attached to him?

[demonic0angel]

(this is my first time doing something like this and English is not my first language so sorry for any error)Danny phantom after becoming the ghost king and joining the justice league for some time decided to ask black bat out, she said yes, however before any of the bats can have a talk with him he says to her

Danny:hey btw we can't have sex before our marriage is that ok with you?

Cass:yes

Danny: that's great I'll just have to do some things in the realms I'll explain it to you later

And before any of the bats can question him he had already teleported away

However later that week while patrolling with red hood on a rare moment of peace Jason decides to ask

Jason:hey what was that about not having sex before marriage? I didn't take you for being this type of person

Danny:well there's actually two reasons for this the first Is that normally ghost's don't have sex since you can just give your partner your love and reproduction works different for ghost, making so sex has a much more symbolic and ritualistic meaning making so that if we have sex it is going to count as our marriage But the problem is...

Jason:what?

Danny:the thing is that since I am the ghost king my marriage is to be displayed to every ghost,liminal and people me and Cass consider family and friends

Jason:and the second reason?

Danny: she'll get pregnant 100%

Jason:what do you mean can't you just use a condom?

Danny:no since it will just phase through it

Jason: wouldn't it also phase Cass?

Danny:no since the reason it will phase through the condom is because I want one day to have a child but my body can't differentiate between now and one day

Jason: can't you have surgery?

Danny:no,I would simply regenerate

Jason:Cass? She doesn't have regeneration

Danny:the day she marries me she will become the queen of the realms making her highly liminal or a straight up halfa like me so she will regenerate just like me

Jason: damn... Well at least it will only be one time right?

Danny:weeeell not exactly

Jason: what do you mean?

Danny:well... Remember my clones?

Jason:the ones your godfather created?

Danny: remember how they died?

Jason: what does that have to do with anything?

Danny:the thing is that they decided instead of going in the rebirth cycle they decided to wait and be reborn as my children

Jason:does Cass know this

Danny:yeah I told her when we were alone

Jason:well look at the bright side at least when Cass ends up becoming batman she isn't going to need to adopt new robins

Me:

Tumblr guidelines:

I will have to politely refuse this ask, only bc I worry that I'll get flagged. Idk how strict the guidelines are, but I've heard that some people get shadow banned just for mentioning it.

On another note, I think this ask is hilarious for the one single fact that Danny tells Cass that they'll have to do it publicly on their wedding day and that she'll get pregnant first try with an unknown number of kids in the future and her response is like: "sure 👍"

[milinilinilin]

₊˚⊹⋆˙౨ৎ˚⟡down horrendous˖ ࣪

—> hcs + ~0.3k words per member

౨ৎ bf!&team are so down bad for you

౨ৎ minors dni!! || requested >< || library

౨ৎ content/warnings: gn reader, most members part have something suggestive at the very least, teamies are so down bad it’s a little bit concerning at times, use of pet names, k is a little bit of a perv but it’s nothing crazy, mentions of masturbation, yuma kinda mean (not to you), sexy time initiation, apologies for the lack of consistency in this these go from dirty to pure fluff some of the scenarios just worked so much better going one way over the other, hypothetical abuse of the elderly…, implied short reader in taki’s

—> note I need a man to be this obsessed with me it’s not even funny 😓 we’re gonna ignore the fact that for some members I might’ve strayed from the main idea a tiny bit in the written part I’m not actually sure, also I realised while writing this I’ve subconsciously committed myself to using the word couch… idk why I do that… I say sofa… anyway I hope you like this anon!

warnings under the cut!

౨ৎ k

→ 95% of his camera roll is just photos of you - photos of you from your dates, photos of you while you’re sleeping, photos of you while you’re having sex… 🫣 half his screen time is just him looking through your photos

→ compliments you 24/7 no matter what, you could fall in a pile of mud and he’d still be stood there like “oh my god you’re so perfect 😦”

→ lowkey gets a bit deranged when you’re apart for too long, like it’s kind of concerning you’d think he’d gone senile if you saw it

→ always cooing over you, you get nothing short of the best treatment when you’re with him

You hadn’t seen K for what felt like ages. What with the tour going on he was always either overseas, or in the practice room. He missed you so much he swore it physically hurt.

The others had witnessed him sat muttering to himself on multiple occasions, staring at pictures of you on his phone. It was starting to freak them out at this point.

On one instance, Euijoo found him curled up in a ball on the floor staring into space as they were taking a break from their practice. “Do you think he needs professional help?”

It wasn’t too long now until he’d have the chance to see you though, a day set aside where you were both free. He planned to put all his attention on you and you only.

As that day finally came, he rushed to your apartment and knocked on the door so vigorously you’d think he was being chased. As soon as you opened the door he pulled you into his arms. “Oh my god baby I missed you so much I thought I was gonna die.”

You chuckled at his antics, pulling him inside. You were cuddled up on the couch for the most part of the day, catching up on everything that had happened while you were apart.

As the evening came by, things naturally took a more heated turn. Lips slotted together as he hovered over you, hands roaming all over your body he groaned out. “Fuck baby having you in front of me for real is so much better.”

“Yudai baby- what do you mean?” You panted out, dumbfounded at his vague claim as your brain was too foggy to do any critical thinking.

K trailed his lips down your neck, and then further down to your collarbone. He spoke lowly as he began to pull up your shirt.

“Just missed you so much baby, touched myself every day looking at your pictures imagining you were there, now that you’re actually here I’m not letting you go.”

౨ৎ fuma

→ running to help you with any task he doesn’t want you to lift a finger, one time he nearly cracked his skull on the counter cause he slipped while running to stop you from opening a jar by yourself

-> sometimes will tighten lids just so you can ask him for help, he just wants to impress you by how strong he is ><

→ constantly staring at you with a smile, thinking whatever you’re doing is incredible and you look incredible and oh my god he’s so in love and you’re just there like “fuma 🤨 I’m literally just changing the bin liner”

→ as a couple you give the vibes of that one tiktok trend like “my boyfriend wants to show you his pokémon card collection, you’d better be nice 😠” “so this is my twilight masquerade greninja :]”

You had just returned home from a day out with your friends, opening the door to find Fuma waiting to greet you. He had gotten out of practice just before you were done so headed to yours to wait for you.

He quickly pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face into your hair. “Missed you so much princess, been such a long day.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, rubbing soothing circles across his back.

Eventually you pulled away from him to speak up, “c’mon, I got you something while I was out.”

His eyebrows raised in curiosity as he followed you, joining you to sit at the table. You slowly pulled out of your bag a few packs of pokémon cards, evolving skies specifically, giggling as he let out a little gasp upon seeing them.

“Baby what the hell how did you get these randomly when you were just out for a few hours?” He was losing his mind at the moment, thoughts of ‘how did they do this’, ‘oh my god I’m so in love’, ‘I might throw up they’re perfect,’ racing through his head.

“I have my ways,” you replied, all too pleased with yourself. This might be one of your proudest moments as a partner to someone.

He went through each of the packs as you watched intently, listening carefully as he explained each card that caught his attention.

Eventually his focus faltered slightly as he felt your eyes on him. He looked up to meet your gaze, blushing as your eyes met and he saw how tentatively you were watching him.

“I love you so much,” he spoke under his breath. Moving to sit on the same side of the table as you, he quickly pulled you into his lap.

He buried his face into your neck in a hug as he mumbled out a string of, “can’t believe how perfect you are… you remember these kind of things and you listen to everything? I’m so lucky to have you… and you look so good right now… I might die…”

౨ৎ nicholas

→ always asks you to dress up whenever you go out, just so he can hold you close to him all night, silently bragging that you’re his

→ would absolutely go to war for you, if he hears anyone say anything even remotely negative about you they’d better watch out, he’s about to grill them so hard it would bring shame to his family

→ takes you shopping regularly and has you do a fashion show for him when you get home to show off everything you bought, just sat cross legged on the bed gawking at you

→ will sometimes just hold you in place while he examines you, racking his brain like ‘well how’ve I managed that then 🤨’

You and Nicholas had just gotten back to your apartment. You had spent the whole day shopping together, him insisting on buying everything that you liked as well as some things that he himself thought would look good on you.

He shoved the shopping bags into your bedroom before sitting on the couch. “Show me everything baby?”

You happily obliged him, making you way over to your bedroom to try on the first outfit. You knew this was always his favourite part of days like these.

Soon you returned to the living room, walking to stand right in front of him and giving him a little spin. “What do you think?”

You watched his face in anticipation of his reaction, but he just sat there and stared, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Nicho?” You called out.

Still nothing.

You walked closer to stand between his legs, eyebrows furrowed as you planted your hands on his shoulders. “Hey, snap out of it.”

He gave you a sheepish grin in response to this. “Sorry baby, you just look too good.” He wrapped his arms around your waist, somehow managing to give you a look of love and disbelief at the same time. “Don’t understand how you’re so perfect, what did I do to deserve you…”

You chuckled at him, all too familiar with the routine. He had this dilemma frequently. “You big idiot, you deserve everything and more,” you broke the silence as you smiled down at him. A light blush fell on his cheeks as he looked away, laughing bashfully.

You leaned down to place a kiss to his lips, sighing contentedly into him, before walking back to your room to change into the next outfit. Nicholas watched in awe as you walked away.

“How on earth did I manage this…”

౨ৎ euijoo

→ brain short circuits whenever you look in his direction, he’s just stood there like🧍‍♂️ as you wave your hand in front of his face to try and snap him out of it

→ gets all shy and giggly whenever people ask him about you like “yeah ☺️☺️☺️ we’re dating ☺️☺️☺️☺️”

→ literally incapable of being mad at you, if you ever do something that might annoy him just flashing him a sweet smile has him forgetting whatever happened and melting into a puddle on the floor

→ has already planned out your wedding and ran the whole thing through in his head about 400 times

“Are we ever gonna meet your partner Euijoo? Everyone talks about you two it’s about time we did.” Euijoo gave his friend a sheepish smile, rubbing his nape as he responded. “I’ll ask them if they’re free anytime soon.”

“Do you have any pictures? We don’t even know what they look like yet,” another of his friends piped up. Euijoo gave a quick nod, pulling out his phone and opening the album dedicated to his favourite photos of you before handing it over.

His friends swiped through each of the pictures, jaws dropping slightly at the sight of you. “Damn, you really did well for yourself huh?”

A warm smile graced Euijoo’s face. Receiving compliments about you was one of his favourite things. He hummed contentedly, “yeah, I’m really lucky.

Suddenly, Euijoo heard a surprised call out to him. As if you had been summoned he turned to see you running towards him, a big smile on your face.

As you reached him you didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him, and he did the same in return. “Juju! What are you doing here?”

He chuckled at your excitement, looking down at you, his eyes full of love. “We stopped by the area to get some food, I didn’t realise you’d be here when you said you were going out.”

You quickly peeled away from him. “I must’ve forgotten to mention, oh, are these your friends?” He gave you a quick nod in response.

You swiftly turned to them, giving a sweet smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you! I’m y/n.”

They all introduced themselves in return as you made conversation. Euijoo was unable to take his eyes off of you, enamoured with how you seemed to have already won his friends over.

“Sorry I can’t stay and chat any longer, my friends are waiting for me.” You turned to Euijoo, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you later Juju, text me when you’re on your way home, maybe we can go together?”

Euijoo hummed in agreement before you ran off back to your friends, looking back briefly to give them a wave. All he could do was stand and watch, lovesick grin on his face.

“They’re really nice.” “Yeah, you chose well.” “Uh… Earth to Euijoo?”

౨ৎ yuma

→ has a major soft spot for you, he’ll scowl at someone as they do something to annoy him but if you do the same thing? heart eyes

→ anything you need he’s there, doesn’t matter what time it is or what he’s doing, he’s dropping everything for you - almost left a meeting once bcs you texted him saying you needed a hug, the others had to physically restrain him

→ will sulk like a toddler when he misses you, and his members have to deal with evil grumpy Yuma - not fun

→ finds everything about you hot, everything, like even your elbows somehow

You had been away for about a week on holiday, your boyfriend texting you constantly about how much he missed you. You had now just arrived home from the airport, unpacking your bags you heard your phone ringing from across the room.

The screen lit up with Taki’s contact, picking up the phone you were shocked by his distressed tone. “Y/n you’re back right? Please for the love of god come over or Yuma might kill us all.”

“Taki what are you on about,” you responded, wondering why exactly your adorable sweet boyfriend would be ‘killing’ anyone. “He gets so miserable when he misses you, I breathed too close to him today and he tripped me over.”

You chuckled at this, while still unsure about what was happening, you agreed to head over. Once you arrived at their dorm, Maki opened the door to let you in before calling out for Yuma.

You just about heard him shouting back from the other room. “Maki fuck off whatever it is I don’t care.”

Maki groaned at this, eyes rolling from exhaustion. “He’s been like this for the past few days, thank god you’re here.”

You made your way over to Yuma’s room, slowly opening the door. He turned to you with an annoyed look on his face. That was until he realised it was you at the door. 

His lips quickly turned to a wide grin as he ran towards you, lifting you up as he pulled you into a tight embrace. “Baby! What are you doing here? I thought you only just got back.”

“I heard someone’s been feeling grumpy without me around,” you cooed.

Yuma buried his face into your neck at this, groaning. “Why did they tell you that… I am glad you’re here though.”

Soon he peeled away from your neck, eyes scanning over your face before zeroing in on… your left cheek? “Fuck you’re so hot,” he spoke breathlessly.

“Yuma what the f-”

Before you had the chance to finish he was pinning you to the bed, lips working their way all over you. This was going to be a long night.

౨ৎ jo

→ sends you check in messages to say good morning, ask if you’ve eaten, ask about your day, at the same time every day no exceptions

→ if he sees anything that reminds him of you even just the tiniest bit he’s buying it for you straight away, you’ve had to have multiple chats about it, he hasn’t stopped

→ looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, if one of the members calls him out for staring he just gives them the finger without looking away from you for a single second

→ make any advances on him and he turns into a stuttering mess, cheeks bright red and unable to make eye contact

Jo sat at the table, chin resting on his palm as he watched you cooking lunch. A soft smile graced his lips as his eyes trailed your every movement.

He adored everything about you. The way your hair changed in hue slightly as it caught the light, the way your nose scrunched when you brought the pepper too close to your face, the way you hummed to yourself as you worked. It was all so perfect to him.

He had this dreamy look in his eyes, one that only came across him when he was looking at you. Continuing to watch you he sighed to himself, he was still in disbelief to this day that you were his, but he couldn’t be more happy about it.

The peace of the moment was soon broken as he heard snickering coming from behind him. “He’s staring again,” Taki spoke. “I genuinely think he’s forgotten how to look away from them,” Harua quipped back.

Jo didn’t take his eyes off of you for even a second, yes maybe he was proving them right but he didn’t care. “Go away,” he snapped back, though his voice was still soft, all too enamoured with you to be properly annoyed.

Harua and Taki left the kitchen, laughing to each other as they trailed off to speak about god knows what.

Almost right after, you finished preparing lunch, walking over and setting it down on the table. The lovesick smile on Jo’s face made your heart melt.

You moved towards him, mischievous glint in your eyes as you couldn’t help but seize the opportunity to tease him. You quickly settled yourself onto his lap, straddling him as you placed your hands on his shoulders.

His face flushed a deep shade of red at your actions. “Y/n- wha- what are you-”

“You were staring huh?”

Jo’s eyes began darting all over the place, unable to meet your gaze, his brain turning to mush as you began pressing soft slow kisses to his face.

He only just about managed to slip out a few words beneath his breath.

“Oh my god you’re so perfect.”

౨ৎ harua

→ has like 5 different story highlights of just photos of you

-> fights off random men in your comments like it’s his job “looking good 😘” “YOU’D LOOK GOOD WITH YOUR HEAD IN A CEMENT STIRRER GO AWAY”

→ gets really grumpy if anyone tries to flirt with you and will cling to your side like a koala for the next 3-5 business days

→ one day you showed him how you matched your nail design to the one he had just gotten done and he nearly passed out (in a good way)

You are Harua were sat in a new cafe you had been planning to visit for a while now. The atmosphere was perfect, soft music, warm lights, not too many people.

You talked about anything and everything as you waited for your drinks. Your favourite way to catch up was to cross another cafe off of the list of ones to try that you had made, and sit for hours enjoying each other’s company as you talked.

Eventually your drinks arrived, the waiter setting them down with shaky hands. You both thanked him, though as you reached for your drink you noticed a slip of paper tucked beneath the cup.

The paper read, “You’re so beautiful, let me take you out some time? XXX-XX-XXXX”

Both of your faces turned to frown as you read the note. Harua was now so deep in thought you could practically hear the synapses firing. “Rua, baby, you okay?”

His head snapped up as you broke his train of thought, and then, a small pout fell on his lips in response to your question. “Why does this always have to happen, do they not see that you’re with me? It’s so annoying.” He groaned while staring daggers at the waiter.

The waiter was looking back at him, just as scared as Harua was mad. Knowing the waiter was watching you leaned forward, placing a quick kiss to Harua’s lips. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

His frown then faded into a smile, content now that you had remedied the situation, making it clear to everyone that you were his. He spoke sheepishly, grin still on his face, “m’not cute… just don’t want anyone thinking they can steal you from me.”

౨ৎ taki

→ literally never shuts up about you to the point the other members are sick and tired of him

→ worships the ground you walk on, you could do no wrong in his eyes, you could punch an old lady (hypothetically 😭) and he’d still be there like “wow baby you’re so amazing 🤭”

→ would unironically wear one of those “stay away from me i ♡ my hot partner” shirts

→ gets flustered so easily you could literally just breathe in his direction and he’s already hard

Taki sighed out loud, chin resting in his palm, he had been rambling about you now for the past 15 minutes. “They’re just so- ugh- I’m actually so in love I think I might die.”

“Yeah yeah we get it Taki,” Harua quipped back at him. You were due to arrive at their dorm soon, Taki just couldn’t help but let all his thoughts about you spill as his excitement grew.

Not long after the doorbell rang. Taki practically sprinted to answer it, almost tripping over his own feet in the process. Opening the door swiftly, he beamed seeing you stood on the other side. “Y/n! You’re finally here!”

He wrapped his arms tight around you, burying his head into your neck as you chuckled at his enthusiasm. “You missed me baby?”

“I always miss you.”

The rest of that night was spent playing games with everyone, watching movies, catching up on all the latest drama. Taki was glued to your side the entire time, not wanting to spend a single second apart from you.

Eventually you all decided to watch another movie. You offered to make popcorn for everyone and, naturally, Taki got up to help you.

You made quick work to prepare everything, the only thing missing were the bowls. The only ones big enough were on the very top shelf of one the cupboards.

You went to grab Taki’s attention so he could help you, which wasn’t hard since he already had his eyes glued to you. “Taki can you help me get the bowls?”

There was something about the way you needed his help, the way you looked at him, it wasn’t much but it was more than enough for him. And as a result of this, you got no response.

You made your way over to him to see what was going on. “Taki?” You called out to him.

“Oh- uh- h- yeah I can… I can get it for you…”

Confused by his strange demeanour you leant forward to take a good look at him, thinking maybe he was unwell. However that thought was quickly dispelled as you felt his now hardened length pressing into you.

“Ah, I see.”

You grabbed his hand with a smirk, dragging him out of the kitchen and towards his room. “One of you is gonna have to finish the popcorn, sorry!”

౨ৎ maki

→ has to be touching you in some way at all times - hand on your waist, your legs draped over his, his face in your chest… o.o whatever it is it doesn’t matter as long as there’s some sort of physical contact

→ gets so excited whenever you kiss him if he had a tail it’d be wagging profusely

→ it doesn’t matter what happened or who did what, you hate someone? he hates them too, will happily let you rant about it for hours

→ would get on his knees and bark if you asked him to - which you have, and he did

You and Maki had just arrived at his dorm. It had been a long day of running errands under the hot sun, the two of you were exhausted. That only meant one thing. Cuddles and chat shit.

It was your favourite way to pass the time together. What more could you want than to let off some steam to someone you know will listen and support you, all while you get some physical comfort too.

You both quickly made your way to the couch to sit down. You were sat in Maki’s lap facing him, legs wrapped around his waist and hands resting on his chest as he leaned back against the cushions.

“And so she told me if I didn’t like the way she was speaking to me then I should just leave! Do you think she was right?”

Maki hummed in agreement, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “I don’t know babe, I wouldn’t have that if I were you.”

You flopped your face into his chest, sighing. “Thank you for listening, she just gets on my nerves so badly I can’t stand her.”

He began to rub soothing circles into your back, pulling you further into him. “I’ve got you baby don’t worry, from everything you’ve said she sounds awful I’m not surprised you have a lot to complain about. Let it out to me any time you need okay?”

You slowly peeled away from his chest, giving him a small smile of appreciation before leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you Maki, I love you.”

If you weren’t sat on him in that moment he felt like he would’ve jumped up and done a lap around the room. Instead, he stayed sat with the biggest grin on his face as a result of your actions.

It didn’t matter how many times you kissed him, or how many times you said those words, he felt equally as ecstatic every time it happened.

He pulled you in again for a tight hug, whispering to you, “I love you too.”