#but now the details are really getting me

[pathologicalreid]

litmus test | s.r.

in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details) content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao word count: 1.68k a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!

“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.

Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”

He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”

You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”

“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.

“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.

He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.

Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”

Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.

“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.

You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.

“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”

Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”

You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”

“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”

“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.

Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”

“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”

Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”

“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.

Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”

There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.

While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”

He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.

Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”

“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.

Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”

Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.

“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know

“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”

You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“

“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”

Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”

Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”

Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”

Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.”

He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”

“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.

The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.

“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.

Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”

The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”

You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”

That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”

The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”

“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”

Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.

“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.

Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.

Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”

“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.

In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”

[sceletaflores]

come on and show me a little bit of spine!

pair: logan howlett x mutant!fem!reader

wc: 5.5k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, drinking, smoking, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, public sex (alleyway hehe), biting, blood but not blood play, pain kink, scent kink, a special guest (!!!), jealous logan muahahaha, emotional constipation but like wtf is new, nat probably blatantly ignoring canon, probably ooc logan and friends sorry i'm just a girl, porn w/ plot (a little???), no use of y/n.

author’s note: HAHA BACK ON MY LOGAN BULLSHIT! who’s laughing? not me. i can’t stop writing for him it’s insane and selfish i know i know i’m sorry. bee tee dubs this is part two to all’s fair in love and viscera cus i couldn't get them out of my head so...kisses!

five x-men walk into a bar, only three walk out…

All men are the same. X-gene or no x-gene, they're all immature pigs.

You've come to find that it's more than just skin deep. If you took a knife to every man in this bar, you'd surely find the exact same little metaphorical mass of arrogance ingrained in every single one of them once all the layers are peeled back far enough.

And that's what Logan is, a man.

A stubborn, arrogant, mind-numbingly frustrating man who's convinced he could never be wrong just because he's had a little more time than normal to perfect the art of being completely insufferable.

No adamantium skeleton or foot long claws of death can change that.

You could set him on fire, drown him, watch him regenerate from a single cell, and nothing would change.

So, in hindsight, you really should have seen this coming.

It was Ororo's idea to go out, insisting the team needed it. A casual night at the bar across town to raise bravado after a few close call missions.

It sounded fun at the time, and for the first thirty minutes it was.

Getting to shed your hero skin for a few hours every so often is always nice, and you love your team. Love getting to just sit and live with them. You hardly get nights like this anymore, filled with playing pool and darts like people do.

That being said, you were reaching the top of your limit. Fast.

It started at the bartop, with Logan sauntering up next to you for the first time tonight. 

He slid into the empty seat to your left, leaned against the bar casually, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. His lips tugged into that half-smirk he wore that night in the training room.

“You avoiding me?” he asks, voice low, bent down just enough to speak directly into your ear. "Haven't seen you all night."

You almost scoffed, almost turned to face him so he could see the look of irate disbelief on your face. Almost, but you didn't want to give him the extra attention.

"I could ask you the same thing."

You didn't miss how things had changed between the two of you after your night in the training room. Something shifted, and not in the romantic 'so...what are we now?' territory.

It shifted into Logan disappearing, closing himself off. He didn't go out of his way to avoid you, didn't even go as far as ignoring your existence entirely. He didn't need to, you knew it was different.

He refused to talk about it, refused to even acknowledge it, completely shutting you down the one time you tried bringing it up.

It stung. The feeling of rejection, especially after that night. You felt like you bared a part of your soul to Logan on that dark blue training mat. You swore you saw something different in his eyes too, a subtle shift, something that said this ran deeper than just a messy fuck between friends.

It played on your mind like a loop, every detail. You nitpicked almost every single thing you did, searched your mind for what you could have done that scared him off.

It has to be you, it always is.

It took a week to get over it. A week to wash away the feeling of Logan's hands on your body, of his lips on yours, of his cock carving a space for itself in your cunt, of his blood sliding down your throat and slicking the palms of your hands.

Eventually, that sadness gave way to self-reflection. Self-reflection gave way to anger, and now you're just plain pissed.

This has nothing to do with you.

Logan is a grown man, not a goddamn baby. He should know how to communicate by now, should take the stick out of his ass and drop the whole 'I'm no good for you baby' martyr cross he's carried around for over a century and talk to you.

But if he wants to be alone to sulk in self pity and sorrow for two hundred more years, you'll let him.

Logan's smirk falters, his expression falling with a heavy sigh. He leans back, one boot moving to rest on the rung of your stool. "You really want to do this here?"

"You came up to me," you shrug, finally turning to face him. The warm glow of the bar lights catch the edges of your frustration. "If you’re here to talk, then talk."

Logan doesn't respond, just meets your gaze with a raised brow. His eyes scan over your face slowly, taking in the pinch between your brows and the stern look in your eyes.

"Trouble in paradise?"

Scott's voice pierces through the tense air between you. His tone is casual in a way that's undermined by the smug smile turning the corner of his mouth up. It's too knowing, like he'd been listening in before.

Logan's brows pinch together in irritation the same way they always do when Scott talks, but he holds your gaze. His silence is infuriating because it's the same old routine—he just stares, brooding, like he’s waiting for the problem to magically solve itself without ever opening his damn mouth.

It makes your blood simmer just under the surface, the tips of your fingers burning with it.

You grind your teeth, balling your hands into fists where they sit on the bar. "Scott," you say, not breaking eye contact with Logan, "go play fetch or something."

Scott raises his hands in mock surrender, but you know he won’t leave without a parting shot. “Just looking out for you, you know. Can’t afford you two tearing each other apart over a little lovers spat before the night’s even over.”

As he saunters off, you turn your full attention back to Logan, who’s still studying you with that infuriating intensity. It’s as if he’s trying to decode some secret language written across your face.

You almost want to laugh at how predictable he is, how he thinks he can just sit there, unbothered, while you’re ready to explode.

“Are you really just going to sit there?” you challenge, leaning closer, daring him to respond. “You can’t keep dodging this forever, Logan. You think I’m the only one feeling this? We were both there that night."

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think you see the flicker of vulnerability beneath the gruff exterior. But then it’s gone, replaced by that stubborn wall he always puts up.

“I don’t need to talk about it,” he mutters, his voice low, but there’s an edge of desperation that catches your attention. “What’s done is done.”

“‘What’s done is done’?” You can’t help the incredulous laugh that escapes you. “Is that your new catch phrase? They gonna start printing that on the front of your action figure's box?"

Logan's brows furrow deeper, his mouth turning down in a hard frown. "Watch it," he warns tersely, the edge of a snarl on his lips.

You lean forward, desperate to get anything out of him. "Or what?"

The bar buzzes around you, laughter and music blending into a distant hum, but all you can focus on is him—the way his eyes flare with that familiar spark of rebellion, how handsome he looks under the bar's dim lights, the way his smell is starting to warm your insides despite how mad you are.

You raise your brow, waiting, hoping. He stays silent.

That's it.

You stand abruptly, causing your stool to scrape against the floor loudly. Logan straightens, eyes narrowing as he watches you, but you’re more than done with all of this. You've had enough.

"I'm going for some air." you say evenly, slipping your jacket off the back of your chair. "Don't follow me."

You turn and walk away before Logan can answer, heading in the direction of the bar's alley door.

You try your best to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, the first tendrils of dread wrapping themselves around you tighter with every step. Your eyes burn embarrassingly each time you blink, but you refuse to cry.

You’re emotionally spiraling a couple feet from the door when someone suddenly steps in front of you, and you crash into them.

“So sorry, ma’am,” A familiar voice says from somewhere in front of you as two strong hands grip your waist to steady you. “Completely my fault, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

You crane your head up, eyes dragging from the blue gingham button down stretched over impressive muscle until they land on a pair of blue eyes and blonde head of hair you recognize.

“Steve?” 

Steve Rogers smiles down at you, his hands still lightly resting on your waist. His expression is soft, apologetic, and a little surprised. Your name falls from his lips in a warm greeting, his hands lingering for a second longer before he drops them and takes a small step back.

“I’m surprised you still remember me. It’s been a while,” he says with the same boyish charm you remember, like he hadn’t just watched you nearly barge through the door like it owed you money. “How’ve you been?”

You blink up at Steve, the frustration from your situation with Logan still fresh, swirling through your system like a storm.

How’ve you been?

What a loaded question.

“Better,” you answer with a tight smile, barely convincing yourself. “Just tired. We’ve been so busy recently, you know how it is.”

Steve gives you a searching look, his eyes skimming your face with the kind of care that makes you want to shrink into yourself. His brow furrows slightly, concern flickering in those crystal-clear eyes of his as he studies your face. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, genuinely, like he’s already picked up on the fact that something’s off. 

How could you forget, he’s got the emotional radar of a saint. Lucky you.

"Yeah, sure," you lie, adjusting your jacket and pointedly avoiding the obvious upset that’s probably plastered across your face. You force a smile, hoping he buys it. "Just needed some air. This place is packed."

The furrow of Steve’s brows deepen, his lips pressing into a thin line like he doesn’t believe you. You feel worse under the intense pressure of his knowing stare, like a bug trapped under a magnifying glass.

You’re about to say something—anything—to fill the awkward silence, but then you feel it. That heavy, unmistakable presence at your back.

Of course he didn’t listen.

Steve’s eyes flick over your shoulder, and you don’t even have to turn around to know Logan’s right there, brooding like a dark cloud about to burst. You can practically feel the tension rolling off him in waves as one strong arm slides underneath the thick denim of your jacket and around your waist.

“Cap,” Logan’s clipped voice greets from somewhere behind you, laced with barely concealed irritation as his fingers dig into the cotton of your shirt, staking some sort of unspoken claim.

Steve gives Logan a respectful nod, though his expression remains calm, measured, the same quiet authority he always carries. “Logan,” he greets, smile faltering for the second it takes him to drop his eyes to Logan’s arm. “Nice to see you doing well.”

Logan hums noncommittally, you feel the rumble of it against your back. “Didn’t think this was your scene,” he says to Steve, brow cocked in suspicion.

Steve shakes his head, a small laugh falling from his lips. “It’s not, usually. I got strong armed into joining a few friends.”

“Right,” Logan replies, tone flat like Steve would have a reason to lie.

You can almost see the tension thickening in the air, an electric pulse that shoots straight through you. Logan’s grip tightens subtly, an instinctive reaction to Steve’s presence, but you can feel the subtle heat rising, the way your heart races under his touch despite yourself.

It’s infuriating, and for a second, you’re tempted to dive right into it, to unearth the chaos lurking beneath that chiseled exterior. But then you remember where you are, why you walked away from Logan in the first place—how public it is, how many eyes are on you.

“Steve and I worked together, a base infiltration in Albany a few years ago.” You cut in, shooting Logan a look over your shoulder, like a sharp glare alone could get him to calm down, if only for a second. But he just meets your gaze with that familiar stubbornness, eyes dark and unyielding. 

It’s infuriating, and for a moment, you’re tempted to dive right into it, to unearth the chaos lurking beneath that chiseled exterior. But then you remember where you are—how public it is, how many eyes are on you.

“Feels like a lifetime ago,” Steve says, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

And it does. 

You think of Kevlar squeezed around your ribs, of explosions and buildings falling and the smell of gunpowder.

"Yeah, it does," you reply, ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach and forcing a smile.

“God, you look…” His gaze rakes over you like he can’t help it, the bright blue of his eyes trailing from your face down your legs and back up all over again. You can feel Logan bristle next to you. 

”You look amazing,” Steve finishes with a small shake of his head, million dollar smile still pulling up the corners of his mouth. “Buy you a drink?”

“We were just leavin’, Cap,” Logan cuts in tersely, his arm tightening around your waist even more. His grip is possessive, but it’s not affectionate—it’s an unsaid challenge, a warning. “Calling it an early night.”

You whip your head around, confusion evident on your face. "We?" you parrot back, the word hanging in the air like a challenge of its own. “We haven’t decided anything.”

Logan’s jaw tightens, that familiar stubbornness rearing its head again. His hand splays flat over the span of your lower back, pushing just enough for you to feel the power behind it but not enough to really move you. “Let’s go.”

You look at Steve, then Logan, then the crowded bar, then the door to the alley, and repeat. 

It should be an easy answer, an easy way out of going in circles with Logan even more than you already have.

But you find yourself stuck, feet rooted to the floor as your mind races with a hundred different thoughts in the span of a second.

Your lips part, and you’re not even sure what you’re going to say, when Steve beats you to the punch. 

"She can decide for herself," he says evenly, though there's a subtle shift in his tone. It’s calm, but there’s a steely edge to it, like a well-honed blade concealed beneath all the politeness. He’s still smiling, but it’s less soft now, more hardened around the edges.

Logan’s grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging in like he's daring Steve to push the envelope any further. “Yeah? Don’t think she needs you speakin’ for her, either.”

"Enough," you snap, stepping out of Logan’s hold with a sharp turn, your voice cutting through the growing storm between them. You turn to him with a hard look, brows pinched in anger. "Fine, let's go."

Your smile feels strained, the edges sharp and jagged as you face Steve, the weight of Logan’s presence at your back heavy and suffocating. “It was great seeing you, Steve. Really.”

Your voice sounds strained even to your own ears.

“We’ll have to catch up some other time,” you add, though the words taste bittersweet on your tongue. 

You can tell he wants to say something, his smile completely dropping as his eyes flit between you and Logan a few times. You give him a pleading look, a reassuring nod that you’ve got this. 

Steve hesitates, you can see the gears turning in his mind, weighing the situation and trying to gauge the tension in the air. But ultimately, he nods, offering you one last smile that’s laced with concern.

“Absolutely,” he says, his voice warm despite the tension hanging in the air. “I’d love to. Just let me know when.”

With one last nod to Logan, he turns and walks away to meld into the crowd until you can’t make out the blue of his shirt anymore.

You don’t turn to Logan as you finally walk out the door. The clunk of his boots follow you the whole way out.

As soon as you’re outside, all the anger sets in at once, burning hot in your stomach as you spin around to face him. The fresh air hits your face like a slap, cool and bracing, but it does nothing to quell the fire simmering inside you.

"You really can't leave well enough alone, can you?" You snap, folding your arms defensively. “You just had to go and stake your territory?”

Logan’s face hardens, his eyes dark under the dim streetlight. “What do you expect me to do? Let you walk away and get buttered up Rogers while I sit at the bar with my dick in my hand?”

“Steve wasn’t doing anything!” You exclaim, frustration seeping into your every word. “He was just being nice, we’re friends.”

Logan lets out a disbelieving snort, shaking his head hard enough that his hair sways with it. “Nothin’ about that was friendly, kid. You’d have to be fuckin’ blind to not see that.”

You huff, turning your eyes to the sky in exasperation. “Why do you care?” you fire back, heart racing at the challenge. “We’re not together! You’ve made that more than clear!”

Now that the seal is broken, it’s like you can’t stop. Words fall out of your mouth faster than your mind can keep up, all the pent up frustration you’ve felt over the past few weeks boiling over.

“You’re the one that’s acting like nothing happened!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, your voice rising with every word. “You’re the one who disappeared, who’s been avoiding this whole thing like it didn’t mean anything!”

He growls, stepping closer, his presence looming. "You think I don’t know that, kid? You think I haven’t been dealing with this shit—with us?"

"Well, you sure as hell don’t act like it! You don’t talk about it. You don’t even try! You just stand there and expect me to what? Read your mind?”

For a split second, Logan’s expression falters, his shoulders stiffening as if your words struck a nerve. But just as quickly, the mask falls back into place. "I’m no good for you, kid. And you know it. I’m doing you a favor."

"There it is again!" You bark out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "The martyr complex. You’ve been alive for over a century, Logan. You’ve got time on your side, and you still can’t figure out how to be a decent human being in a relationship?”

He flinches slightly, but his eyes remain locked on yours, anger and frustration swirling behind them. "It’s not that simple."

“Of course it is!" You step forward, closing the gap between you. "You just don’t want to do the hard work. You don’t want to open up, to be vulnerable, because then you’d actually have to face yourself. And God forbid Wolverine confronts something he can’t claw his way out of.”

Logan’s jaw clenches, his eyes blazing, and for a long beat, the two of you stand in a tense, electrified silence. The world around you seems to fall away—no bar, no missions, no X-Men—just the two of you, standing in the alley, raw and exposed.

You don’t know who moves first, you or Logan, before you can register it, the distance between you disappears, swallowed by the pull of all that unresolved tension.

His lips claim yours, fierce and urgent, as if this was the only language he’s fluent in—raw emotion, violent passion. His hands find your waist again, gripping tight, pulling you flush against him.

The kiss is messy, desperate, a collision of teeth and tongues, but it’s exactly what you expected. It’s how you and Logan have always been—no finesse, just fire and stubborn intensity. It’s the only way he knows how to communicate, the only way he can let go, even for a second.

Your hands slide up into his hair, yanking roughly as a guttural growl vibrates from his chest into your mouth. You feel the heat of his skin, the coiled tension in his muscles, and it ignites something wild inside you.

The anger hasn’t left—it’s just morphed into something darker, something hungrier.

The kiss is nothing like the ones from that night in the training room. This one is full of anger and frustration, all the emotions that have been simmering between you two finally bubbling over in an explosive release. His lips are hard, demanding, and the taste of whiskey lingers faintly on his breath, mixing with the metallic scent of the alley.

You push back just as fiercely, your hands tangled in his hair as you try to pour all of your hurt, your confusion, and your pent-up rage into that single kiss. For a moment, it’s all- consuming—hot, reckless, like trying to catch fire in your hands.

“You’re such a fuckin’ punk,” he grates against your lips, kneading the meat of your hips roughly like he’s trying to anchor himself to you. His teeth scrape your bottom lip, his growl vibrating through you like a warning shot, but it only spurs you on.

"You’re one to talk,” you bite back, the heat between you both as volatile as ever.

You drop your hands to his chest, gripping the leather of his jacket in your fists and yanking him closer until there's no space left, until it's hard to tell where the anger ends and the need begins.

Logan growls, the sound reverberating deep in his chest, as his hands move up your back, possessive and rough. “You keep pushin' me, kid. You really wanna see how far I’ll go?"

"Maybe I do," you shoot back, biting down lightly on his lower lip. You taste the blood—his blood—and something primal stirs in you. His healing factor kicks in almost instantly, but the heat between you spikes with the sharp tang of it. It always does.

Logan hisses sharply, tongue swiping over the blood still dotted along his lip before he’s pushing you backwards.

You have no choice but to move with him, blindly stumbling back a few steps until your shoulders hit the wall of the bar. His lips attached to your neck the whole way, teeth nipping at the rapid flutter of your pulse.

It’s like a wildfire spreading between you, all heat and destruction, and the alley around you seems to fade into the background, leaving nothing but the chaotic mess of you and Logan.

You consider the risks of fucking Logan in an alleyway for all of two seconds, every single warning bell in your mind going silent when his hands tighten their hold on your hips to spin your around, pushing you up against the brick roughly.

“Fine,” he concedes, yanking the fabric of your skirt up hard enough you hear a tiny rip. “I’ll give you what you want, princess.”

The sound of his zipper being tugged down might as well be a gunshot with how loudly it reverberates through your mind. Your thighs slide together slickly, aching cunt clenching in anticipation.

The soft sound of Logan pushing his jeans down is the only warning you get before the thick head of his cock is sliding over the wetness staining the fabric of your panties.

“This what you wanted?” he asks, hooking his fingers into the lace to tug it aside and slip the length of himself through your slick folds. “You need a cock in your hungry pussy to feel better?” He lines himself up with your fluttering entrance, pushing gently until the very tip slips in.

Your lips fall open, brow furrowing as he starts feeding you his length one infuriating inch at a time.

Anger still warms your gut, but you find yourself nodding wordlessly. Tiny, desperate sounds escaping your throat the deeper he sinks in.

The stretch of him is almost too much, like he’s splitting you in two. It’s the kind of sting that just barely toes the line of pain and pleasure in the best way. It has you crying out when he finally bottoms out, pressing your forehead against the brick to try and ground yourself.

Logan’s considerate enough to keep still, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the skin of your hips as you adjust.

“God,” you groan, shifting your hips enough to feel the way his cock rubs along your walls. The burn starts to melt away into pure pleasure with every grind.

“That’s it, baby,” Logan goads, hands still planted on your hips as you start to bounce on his cock in earnest. “Write your name on this cock, tell everyone who it belongs to.”

His words just spur you on, a high whine falling from your lips as you set a steady rhythm. The slap of skin on skin getting louder, echoing around you lewdly. 

“Mm, feels good huh?” he hums, pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder.

You barely choke out a garbled ‘yes’, thighs starting to shake with the effort of thrusting yourself back. 

“Sorry,” he says, gripping the meat of your hips to pull you back against his cock roughly. “What was that?”

“Yes!” you mewl, cheeks burning. The anger steadily drains from your body the closer you get to come, until it's an afterthought just present enough in your mind to still matter. “Feels so good, please Logan…”

Logan groans under his breath, pulling his hips back back back until he’s reaming forward. He thrusts once, twice, three times before he’s taking over. Big hands anchored to your hips to drag you back on every snap of his hips. 

Your entire body lights up, the pathetic noises passing through slack your lips barely register over the white noise rushing through your ears. Logan’s fucking you like he wants to break you, heavy hips pounding into the meat of your ass like an animal. The slap of it stinging your skin only for him to pull out and leave you empty before filling you again.

You go pliant in his grip, a high moan escaping you as he expertly hits that spongy spot inside of you that has heat pooling in your gut.

“God, I missed this,” he admits into your hair, one hand sliding around to press against your lower stomach. Logan’s hand is massive and blisteringly hot over your skin, cupping and feeling where he punches up into you with every thrust from the outside.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, pressing his forehead to your back desperately. “Do you feel that? Feel how deep I am inside of you? Gonna fuckin’ fill you up, stuff you so full you’ll be leaking for weeks.”

“Logan,” you gasp, heat coiling in your belly. 

“I know,” he breathes, hips speeding up impossibly faster. “I got you, honey.”

You turn your head, the skin of your cheek scraping over the rough bring with every hard snap of his hips. The thick muscle of his forearm fills your eye line, strong and tan where it cages you to the bar. You swear you can see the blood pumping through his veins. Your stomach jerks with need, your mind buzzing.

Without thinking, you lean forward and bury your teeth in the muscle there. The coppery tang of blood on your tongue sends you reeling, a deep groan rumbling through your chest.

“Fuck!” Logan exclaims, giving one last thrust before he’s burying himself as far as he can. His cock throbs, pulsing as he unloads inside you. Rope after rope of come paints the shaking walls of your cunt, slicking the thrust of his that much more.

Pleasure goes off in sparks all up your spine, lighting up every vertebrae until the fireworks go off in your brain. Your hands claw at the wall desperately, eyes screwing shut as you fly over the edge.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you come, hands digging into the brick hard enough that it cracks and crumbles beneath them, falling to your feet in little rock’s.

Everything around you fizzles out into nothing, just a dull hum cocooning you in this moment, and for just a second it’s like you're floating. 

The heave of Logan’s chest against your back and his lips on your neck only add to that far away feeling, nice enough that has you leaning into the warmth of his body. 

A car horn blaring somewhere in the distance jerks you out of any warm, fuzzy feelings and deposits you back in the real world. Your eyes refocus on the building in front of you, and a displeased groan rips from your chest.

“I made a mess,” you murmur quietly, looking at the two matching dents in the bar's wall and the same red powder staining your hands.

Logan huffs into the sweaty skin of your neck, an amused noise. “That’s alright,” he says, barely out of breath. He pulls out just enough to let his come start leaking out around his dick, sliding down the length of him in thick rivers of white. “So I did.”

You scoff, shaking your head in disgust as he steps away with a snort. Your voice is breathy and small when you speak, “You’re disgusting.”

It's quiet for a long time, both you and Logan dressing yourselves in silence. The thrum of traffic around you mixed with the muffled music bleeding through the wall is the only noise filling the space.

You drag your eyes to him, watching as he yanks up his jean’s zipper while you smooth your skirt down.

“I told you not to follow me. When we were back inside,” you say, voice steadier than before but just as breathless.

Logan meets your eyes, and there’s a pause. For a second, you think maybe he’ll turn around and leave, run away to try and forget this too. Instead, you hear his boots scrape against the gravel as he steps closer.

"I don't take orders well, remember?" His voice is gravelly, like he’s chewing on the words before spitting them out.

"Obviously," you huff under your breath, a humorless laugh shaking your shoulders slightly.

Logan’s lips quirk into a tiny, almost imperceptible smile, but it fades just as quickly.

He takes another step closer, close enough now that you can feel the warmth radiating off him again, his presence as heavy as ever. But this time, there’s something different.

He looks drained. Not physically, but emotionally. Worn down in a way you’ve never seen.

“I’m not good at this,” he admits quietly, his voice tired. “You know that.”

You raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck in that rare, almost vulnerable way he does when he’s out of his element. Finally, he meets your gaze.

“I’m…" he trails off, mouth pulling into a wince like it physically pains him to apologize. "I’m sorry…”

“Wow,” you say slowly, head tilting to the side as you study him. “That was the worst apology I’ve ever gotten.”

Logan narrows his eyes at you, a mix of irritation and reluctant amusement flickering across his face. “You gonna let me talk?” he asks curtly, but there’s no real bite to it.

You sigh, nodding your head for him to continue.

He shifts his weight, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. “I know I’ve been a stubborn ass. I’m used to keeping everyone at arm’s length. It’s safer that way. I’ve lost too many people to just let someone in without a fight.”

His voice drops, laced with a vulnerability you rarely see. “I thought if I just stayed away, it would make things easier for you. I’m not relationship material, kid. I can’t be that guy for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

He shakes his head, his shoulders slumping in more as he talks. “I’m a damn mess, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I do. A lot. It just scares the hell out of me.”

For a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. Part of you wants to lash out more, to keep the anger burning because it feels safer than the vulnerability you’re feeling now.

On the other hand, for the first time tonight, you see the man behind the adamantium, behind the claws and the gruff exterior. The man behind the Wolverine.

You only see Logan, who’s lived through centuries of loss and pain, who’s learned to build walls so thick even he can’t break through them sometimes.

And damn it, you hate how much you still care. You hate that, even after everything, Logan is the one person who can make you feel like this—angry, frustrated, and vulnerable all at once. But you can’t deny the truth any longer.

Because underneath all the anger and hurt, there’s still that spark. That stupid, stubborn spark that refuses to go out.

You take a step closer, your hand gently reaching for his. “You don’t have to be anything, Logan. You just have to try. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He nods, a slow, deliberate movement. Taking a slow set closer to you, he takes your cheek in his hand. The bright red rawness of your skin is slowly draining, tiny cuts knitting themselves together. “I can do that.”

He slides his thumb across your cheekbone and somehow, you believe him.

It’s not perfect. It’s not a promise that everything’s going to magically be okay. But it’s a start.

Maybe that’s enough.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[luveline]

hi jade! could i request a luna lovegood!reader x eddie munson blurb? maybe him feeling protective over her in a situation? thank you! congrats on 46k :)

You have a soft touch.  

“Hello,” you whisper, scratching your nails into the soft underside of your new cat’s chin, “hello, baby Teeby. You’re back.” 

“You gotta stop leaving the window open.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, scratching right where the cat wants it, his little black face twisting into your touch. “Really, Eddie, I don’t mean for him to get out, but you’re right, of course you are. I have to remember he’s here now. Anything could’ve happened when he got out.” 

He didn’t mean for you to take his reminder so hard. “Hey, it’s okay. I found him, didn’t I?” 

You hadn’t noticed the cat was gone. To an outside observer you seem irresponsible, but Eddie knows the details of the story. You opened the window to the bedroom to let fresh air inside, then someone knocked on your door and you left to answer while the cat escaped. 

You’re new to cats. You didn’t realise he’d be eager to leave, but luckily Eddie caught him scratching at the wall of your house trying to get back up again. No harm, no foul. A lesson learned. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, baby Teeby,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss his head gently. “I’m sorry, I’m glad you’re okay.” 

“I’ll get you a screen for the window, alright? That way you can keep it open.” 

“You will?” 

“Babe, I love you. Getting you a screen for your window is the least I’d do, right?” He holds your cheek, kissing you while you’re not kissing the cat. Your lips are balmy, and you smell like lavender up close. 

“I keep forgetting he lives with me now, I just assume any noise he makes is my ghost upstairs.” 

“He seems like he’s settling in fine.” He means great. Baby Teeby couldn’t be happier, you’re a good match for one another, affectionate creatures with gentle dispositions. Teeby didn’t do much when Eddie grabbed him besides meow. “Do you like him?” 

“I love having company when I miss you, honey,” you say, catching his eye as you say that pet name. He never imagined somebody could look at him and think something sweet like that. 

“Yeah, but do you like him?” he asks with a laugh, nudging you over to squish next to you on the bed. 

“Obviously I like him, he’s gorgeous. His heart is beautiful. He reminds me of you.” 

“He’s not evil when my back is turned?” 

Your laugh is high-pitched from the suddenness of it, then everywhere. If you laughed like that in public you’d draw stares. “He sleeps on my chest like a baby, Eddie, he’s just like you.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Alright, awesome, you like him, can you stop with the comparisons?”

The cat slinks from under your loving hand into Eddie’s lap. He looks up at Eddie, so different from you, rougher and louder, and he squints his yellowy eyes. 

“Hi, baby Teeby,” he murmurs. 

Teeby relaxes, tail unfurling against Eddie’s chest. 

“See, you’re twin flames. You’re like my two soulmates.” You tap his jaw with the flat of your fingernail. “Though he’s a little more handsome.” 

“I never shoulda got you the damn thing.” 

[atzaurora]

a cute date with mingi involved painting his nails and picking rings to go with the nails

ahhhhhh it would be so cuteeeee i bet he blushing so hard

[˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗] 𝒩𝒂𝒊𝒍 𝒫𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉.﹙송민기﹚(0.9k)

𖥔 afab!reader x mingi ; dating ⸼જ Having a date with Mingi, where you get to paint his nails... ➤ imagine (fluff) .ᐟ.ᐟ >none< .ᐟ.ᐟ

꒰🖇꒱ such a cute idea! hope you like it :3 enjoyyy

if you have any ideas or wishes let me know, requests are open

here's my [𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕]! ; [𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕] here! ; [about me] + [guidelines]!

reblogs appreciated

You sat on your soft bedspread, sorting all kinds of nail polish in different colours. You and your boyfriend had agreed to say home tonight, instead of going out for a date.

"So, what's the plan tonight?" Mingi asked, peeking into the room with a gentle smile.

You looked up, meeting his eyes. "Just a little surprise for us," you said, holding a finger to your lips. "But you have to sit down first." ── ࣪˖ MORE BELOW

He obeyed, curiosity piquing as he sat beside you. The room was filled with the faint scent of vanilla candles, casting a warm glow around the space. You'd spent hours preparing for this moment, hoping it would be something special and fun to do together.

Mingi's eyes widened as he saw the nail art supplies laid out. "You're going to paint my nails?" he asked, his cheeks already beginning to blush.

"Only if you want me to," you teased, holding up a bottle of shimmering blue polish. "It's your choice, after all."

He didn't even have to think and immediately nodded. "Of course, I want you to," he said, extending his hand. "But only if I get to pick the design."

You took his hand carefully, inspecting his nails. They were clean and well-kept, perfect for you to get started. "Alright," you said, "what colour would you like?" He chuckled, admiring your excited face for a moment before deciding. "Mhm...maybe black." You sighed, giggling at his obvious choice.

"Of course. But pick another colour for the details and extras, it can't be all black," you said, smiling up at him. You appreciated that he let you do this, even though he liked to keep his nails simple and natural most of the time.

He nodded, looking around at all the colours. "This one looks nice," he responded, pointing at a wine red polish. You gasped dramatically, surprised by his good colour matching. "Ooh, very nice. These two go well together."

He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. "Okay, hands please." You stuck out your own hands to grab a hold of his.

Mingi's blush deepened, but he didn't protest. He watched as you painted the first nail with careful strokes, the black polish gliding smoothly over the surface. The silence was filled with the comforting sound of the TV playing a random sitcom in the background. You both chuckled at the occasional laugh track, the tension in the air easing slightly.

"I think I'm done with the base. Now we're going to let them dry for a bit," you said, looking at what you have done so far with a satisfied smile. His hands glid out of your grip as he lifted him to get a closer look.

"You did good, baby," he praised, poking out his lips for you to kiss. You laughed softly, gladly accepting the offer by pressing your lips against his.

You two continued to watch the TV for a bit while waiting for the polish to dry. Your head laid on Mingi's shoulder, while he watched out for his nails so they wouldn't get smudged. Your gaze drifted away from the TV and landed on your desk where a box of jewellery was placed.

As Mingi stayed on the bed, you made your way to the desk, suddenly having an idea in mind. You rummaged through the box, looking for rings that matched the nail design.

You found a a few that you thought would look good with the black and red, carrying them over to him. "Look what I found," you squealed, opening your hand to show him the rings.

"They look really good, sweetheart. I'll wear them once my nails are done, okay?" he asked and you nodded, placing the jewellery on the bedside table.

"Alright, then I should get these done." You took his hands into yours again, making him sit up properly again. Mingi felt his face heating up again, simply by having your hands holding his. He was down bad...

He watched closely as your face grimaced with concentration, trying your hardest not to mess up the lines. It only took you a few more minutes, till you giggled excited, finally done with your work.

"Look!" He immediately held out his hands in front of him, looking at your designs carefully.

"I love them baby! You're really good at this." He smiled from ear to ear, seeing how your face lit up once you heard he liked them too.

You got up, collecting the rings from the table. "Now...," you sat back down again, signaling him to stick out his hand again. "...the final accessory."

You slid the silver ring onto his ring finger, before placing the other two on his other hand, on both the index and middle finger. You held his hand up to the light, admiring the final result. "What do you think?" you asked, your voice full of excitement.

He stared at his hand, the rings glinting in the candlelight. "It's perfect," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't help but smile at his reaction. The evening had turned into something even more fun than you'd planned, but you loved it. You liked seeing Mingi this way, vulnerable and open and not trying to hide his true excitement.

[astralnymphh]

jackson!ellie falling for the girl with spectacular music taste. what does she think when passing by your open window? shit, is that the sick habit? rad. but it has trickled into a myriad of genres, now having an eclectic accumulation of records thanks to you, and your midday music sessions. on patrol, she thinks about you. in those abandoned record stores, she thinks—and dedicates time to you, fitting a couple inside her backpack she had graciously made room for. either to listen to them while daydreaming in psychedelic hues, or to give them to dina so she can deliver them to you. darkening your doorstep unannounced feels a bit invasive, and besides, you know dina way better than ellie knows you. confrontations are daunting; what would she even say?

she had no time to figure, since dina—in all her matchmaking glory—thought getting ellie out of her garage for something besides patrol duties for a change, and into your place, would ease her up to you. the path that leads there is precipiced, crowded with nerves. her cheeks are lovingly dimpled when you nudge her in the shoulder. “you never told me you play guitar!” ellie never expected you to be the epitome of romance poetry: all smiles, warming up in no time, so punctual in the eyes, she wonders what details you like about her. “u-uh, yeah. not too serious about it though,” she humbles herself. hand concealed behind her head.

yet, of course, dina never lets ellie be so soft-spoken. “come on! nobody, who isn't serious about music, writes their own songs. play something for us!” nudging with her voice from across the room.

ellie so badly wanted to punch her friend in the shoulder then. god, she shuddered at the encouragement. but, she couldn't deny you; when it was you, handing her the guitar long forgotten about from your closet, she had to indulge with a soft smile. thereon, when ellie was consumingly focused on tuning that hollow body of wood, she missed all your subtle stares of her face, or her freckled hands, whatever intrigued you to contemplate. after she played one of your favorites—receiving compliments from you for even knowing that song—you had to tell her all about your introspects. fortuitously, dina left by then.

“you're really good at it,” you said, gentler than the music of wind, with your head in her criss-crossed lap, and satin-shine eyes locking hers. anyone could tell she has been waiting for something as transient and calming as this. “you should write me a song, hm?” laying her palms on your face so delicately, afraid this moment could shatter. “would love t—i mean, yeah. sure.” still doesn't even know what to say!

the moment lives forever in the song she wrote that following night. it had to be captured; you need to know how much she fucking cherishes it.

this was meant to just be a little something something but i turned it into something i'd cry to. #kms.

[zevrra]

Hii, i saw u were looking for requests and I was wondering if u could do a jjk x reader (any character is fine) where they get body swapped by a curse and decide to get freaky

[BODY?¿SWAP]

tags: 18(+) only!!, suggestive content, semi-nsfw, some dirty talk, gojo x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, one-shot, anon request

creator notes: thank you so much for the request anon! i couldn’t decide which pov i liked the most so i wrote both of them kshsjs. hope you enjoy! ♡

It was all Gojo’s fault. You were cautious and always careful when on missions. Yet somehow, this one time he distracted you a little too much with his constant flirting and now you’re stuck in his body while he was stuck inside of yours. It was obviously strange. His long arms and legs. The muscles underlying his skin. And the most obvious, different genitalia.

And it was still all Gojo’s fault what you two were doing right now. He insisted he wanted to know what it was like, doing it, in your body. Said he wanted to know how good he made you feel and what he could do differently to make you feel even better. And seeing as how you two were body swapped for the moment, it was the perfect time for a little experiment.

“God,” Gojo groans. Using your body to fuck himself on his own dick.

You can barely keep your eyes open. Out of embarrassment of watching your body move so erotically but also the fact it felt…good. Really good. It was a completely different pleasure than you were used to. Pleasure that was white hot to the point it made even your soul tingle.

“No wonder you’re always a mess when I fuck you.” Gojo pridefully says.

Of course he was thinking so highly of himself. You both knew your sex life was fantastic and this little ‘experiment’ was just further proving his point. But now he’d never shut up about it. You could already see him bringing it up every chance he gets. How your stomach tightens with every thrust of his cock. He’ll speak of how your pussy was made specifically to take the shape of him. Any time he wants to tease you, to make your face flush, he’ll just speak of how many times you cum with him deep inside.

You whine, moving your hands to hide your, his, drastically red face. “Shut up, please.”

Gojo laughs wickedly. Even as he pants heavily with each roll of the hips that he controls. His, your, hands run up the front of his chest. Feeling every detail he can while he is stuck inside your body.

“Mhm, at least I know—fuck—that I fuck you good. Your body is damn sensitive.” He teases, making it a point to grind himself down. The motion causes you to groan.

“Well, I must make you feel real good too cause your body is just as hot.” You shoot back. A broken up moan tumbling from your lips.

He chuckles at your remark. Biting at his bottom lip as he clenches around the dick you currently have deep inside of him. “You’re right,” He smirks. You can tell from the sound of his voice he’s up to no good. “Just makes me wanna fuck ya some more.”

It was going to be a very long night.

It was your idea. Body swapped by some cursed technique, hours later, and you wanted to show the love of your life how good he was to you. How amazing he made you feel every time you two lay together. Suggesting a more physical example to show him in a way words could not describe.

“Nanami,” You hum softly. Standing tall inside of his body. Watching as you move his cock inside of your body. Slowly slipping every inch in and out. Making sure he felt the pleasure he gives you. “Can you feel it? This is what I feel every time we make love.” You whisper.

Nanami lies beneath you. His, well really your, legs are wrapped around the waist you currently inhabit. You can feel him tremble at the words you speak. Watching your own face twist in pleasure and concentration. Makes you smile as you know he’s feeling good. Nanami may not be able to confirm your thoughts for the moment but you know he’s getting a nice grasp of what you go through every time he fucks you.

Doesn’t stop you from teasing him a little.

“I usually feel it really deep right here,” You hum. Moving one of his large hands across your body’s abdomen. Pressing ever so slightly in an area on your lower tummy where you know it’s sensitive.

Nanami gasps at the sensation. Fingers gripping the sheets beneath him so hard that you’re afraid he might tear the fabric. His mouth falls open as he cries out in pleasure. “Fuck!” He gasps, sucking in whatever air he could through his teeth. You knew what he was feeling all too well. The countless times he had fucked you senseless into the mattress, leaving you just as speechless as he was now.

“F-fuck,” He whimpers again. Muttering something about slowing down but you can’t. Not yet. You needed him to keep feeling good. Needed him to reach his climax and see the stars you’re so use to seeing on the other end.

After all of this, you only hope he realizes how good of a man he truly is. “Mmm, I love you.” You say with a chuckle. Watching as Nanami struggles beneath you, making your body shudder in pleasure. Wondering how many times had he watched you from this exact position and thought how pretty you must’ve looked.

Now at least both of you got to see each other from the other point of view. Maybe body swapping wasn’t so bad after all.

[audliminal]

It's just a game, right? Pt 2

pt 1

"It's like. Crazy, y'know?" Bernard's voice echoes in Tim's ears as he fiddles with his mask. "Like, when they started posting, I was kinda meh about it? I mean the first few videos they posted were just like. Basic shitty, scrambled audio, and the first clues were just like, real simple. Basic word replacement stuff; mostly vigenères, right? But now it's- they're using everything! The current drop is. It's layers, man. And I think it's intentional."

"Isn't it supposed to be intentional? I thought that was like, the whole point of an ARG."

"No I mean, like yeah obviously the clues are intentional, but like. The way the difficulty curve is just increasing. When this started it was so easy, but I don't think it was because they like, didn't know what they were doing or anything. Which, cool yeah that makes sense, you want people to buy in before it gets super hard or whatever, but there are, like all these threads that never went anywhere. And everybody kind of wrote them off as red herrings because they didn't seem to fit into the narrative that we had so far, but I can't stop thinking about them, you know?"

"I mean, they could still be red herrings, couldn't they?"

"Well, technically, yeah, but like. Why? It's one thing to have a dead end that maybe calls back to a previous clue or, like, reaffirms some detail from before but having something completely unconnected seems like a weird choice. Especially when the creator keeps telling us to dig deeper."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Tim asks with a laugh.

"No that's the thing!" Bernard's voice goes intense, and Tim momentarily stops putting his mask back together. "Literally every fucking drop those exact words are hidden somewhere in the mess of encryptions, and as things get more complicated, it's showing up more not less. And that together with all the fucking loose details that don't seem to fit in anywhere? I'm literally on the verge of going back to the beginning of the whole thing and solving it from scratch, bc I think we're missing a lot." Tim kind of forgets, sometimes, how similar he and Bernard are, but the in his boyfriend's voice is one he's intimately familiar with. That combination of obsession and frustration - and obviously it's not really serious because like, it's an internet game, but it doesn't matter what the stakes are, being stuck on a puzzle fucking sucks, and he can't exactly patrol what with his broken ankle, so maybe a fun, no-stakes challenge would be good for him.

"We were planning on hanging out on Friday, so what if you walked me through it from the start, and maybe together we can come up with some answers?"

"Seriously? Dude that would be so awesome! I will teach you everything I know about code breaking!"

"I mean, I do know some things, you know. You think I didn't have a spy phase as a teenager?" Tim smiles at Bernard's responding laughter. It'll be nice, he thinks, to mess with a puzzle where nobody's life is at stake.

[alphajocklover]

I really want a hot boyfriend. does instajock always make you straight or can I use it on a guy to make him more my type? (and maybe also make me more his type)

So, I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding, one that I want to clear up. While I do my best to report on different transformation methods, I can’t include every detail about every one of them. My posts are relatively short and don’t always cover everything, because if I did it would take forever. The lack of details, plus some distracting pictures, leads to a lot of people getting details mixed up or getting confused. It’s happened before, and I think it’s what is happening here. I say this because as far as I can remember I have never mentioned anything about InstaJock turning someone straight.

InstaJock can change a person's sexuality, theoretically, through the settings and details section that I've mentioned in previous posts. The thing is, it normally doesn’t. Instajock changes its users personality, their body, and their mind, but for some reason their sexuality will usually stay the same. They’ll become more openly sexual, and also often very flirtatious to fit their new jock persona, but their sexual identity doesn’t change. Even when their sexuality does change it usually turns them gay, not straight.  For some reason the app's already confusing setting page is set up so it's a lot easier to set your sexuality to gay then to straight. My best guess for why the app is set up that way is that the creator, or creators, are gay themselves and have a thing for jocks. I mean, you don’t make a seemingly impossible app that changes people into dumb jocks if you don’t have some sort of kink for it.. So, If you use the app on someone who's already gay you’ve probably got nothing to worry about. Chances are they’ll stay gay, unless they happen to have a huge conversion kink and are really good with computers. Anyways, now that we’ve cleared up that issue let's get into the specifics of your issue. 

Changing someone's personality and identity so that they’ll be your ideal boyfriend is… pretty questionable, if I’m being honest. But so is much of what happens in the world of transformations, so I’ll focus on the ‘how to’ rather than the morals. Your first problem is one I’ve brought up before: You can only give someone the app if you already have the app. Only an already transformed Jock can invite another person to InstaJock. You’d only be able to transform him,but only if you are changed yourself. I know you said you’d be with being changed, but once you become a jock figuring out the app will be much harder, so you might not end up his type, or he might not end up yours. I think your best bet would be to convince a jock to change both of you. InstaJock users can send out multiple invites at once, so it would be easy even for him. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if he makes a dumb mistake. He is a jock afterall.

I do hope this works out for you. Not because I approve of what you’re doing, but because there are a lot of ways this could go wrong. One of you could have your sexuality changed when you get transformed, the jock who changes you both might make you brothers instead of boyfriends, or you and he could just not click. Just because someones your type doesn’t mean they’re the right person for you. Even if you and your target don’t end up together, I think you will have a much easier time getting a boyfriend after you use InstaJock. I hate to be shallow, but dating is usually easier when you have a 6 pack and huge pecs.

[vigilskeep]

Did you read the ign article about which choices will matter in Veilguard? What are your thoughts?

i’ve come to the realisation i simply don’t care very much. personally

i’m not really a person who cares a lot about having endings tied up by the official writers. a few months ago the characters and plot points i already love might have been what i was hoping for, but right now what i’m excited to play is veilguard, itself, and i’d rather they spent their time and focus on the game they want to make and that i’ll get to play, rather than on throwing in details about cool stories that they promise are happening offscreen, and finding increasingly desperate excuses for why an alive HOF is somewhere else. and in a way i find the fact that they are outright deciding to treat the games as their own complete stories encouraging for the writing of veilguard itself, implying the consequences of your choices will be felt within the game and planned for, rather than vaguely promised for some future episode that is never coming, like they often have been

i understand why other people are upset and i think it’s completely reasonable that they are, i have zero interest in trying to convince anyone they should feel one way or the other, but i’m also not going to pretend i feel strongly any particular way about this when i don’t. i admit to being a little baffled about how they’re going to handle it, especially with the inquisitor being in the game. but i’m not attached enough to inquisition or any of my inquisitors for that to be something i feel strongly about. if anything on a personal level it wipes out a lot of my weird stress about inputting the “right” worldstate that often stops me actually enjoying the games

to be clear: would i have loved to think zevran would appear or at least be referenced? is it deeply fucking annoying that only a handful of (white) characters seem to get that VIP, always-returning status? sure of course! but i think i consider not being able to input my own specific worldstate details a separate issue and one that is not going to change whether veilguard is good or bad, for me

[soberpluto]

Examining Neptune's Spell

Apologies for not being here after so much time, but now I'm back and very thrilled to share this with you all! I'm hopeful many can find this helpful.

Unnecesary context aside, just recently I was having a long and deep conversation with a friend of mine about my semi-recurring mini existential crises. After hearing me patiently, with the dear intention of making me realize I was drowning in my tiny glass of water, he simply (and brilliantly) replied:

"I think you're problem is that you have unrealistic expectations about yourself."

Any attempt to blurt out in self-defense ceased instantly because of how deep these words sunk in my mind. I stared into the wall before for me and felt how the missing puzzle piece finally dropped into the perfect spot. Obviously, the thought of having my sun in Cancer and Neptune in almost exact opposition popped inside, and it took a WHOLE new dimmension. How could this statement not be true?! OF COURSE he was right! It's not that I wasn't told that before or haven't read about it multiple times in my astrology studies, but the truth is, (a very Neptunian thing now that I think about it) I didn't believe it quite applied to me. Because I don't like to feel mediocre and because I think of myself as a spiritual and highly self-aware woman, I was convinced that holding myself to "unrealistic standards" was definitely NOT the reason that triggered me to want fleed to a desert islands at times when reality felt like too much. It was bitterly humorous when I realized I evidently missed the fact that Neptune was making a hell of a job doing what he does best: casting its spells of illusion and glittery distorted beliefs about how things were "supposed to be" in a surprisingly unadverted way into my life. I was truly relieved to actually understand (or accept, better said) why trying to have a simple and happy life seemed too tricky at times. It all made sense.

Now, let me introduce Neptune, if you happen to be unacquainted.

Neptune in astrology is like the ultimate dream weaver, spinning a web of intuition, imagination, and mystery. It’s the planet of all things ethereal, where reality gets a little blurry, and you’re invited to dive into the deep end of fantasy, spirituality, and idealism. Neptune whispers, "What if?" and suddenly, we're seeing the world through a kaleidoscope of possibilities, but a "little" foggy on the details. We're all influenced by Neptune one way or another, but when it touches personal planets or points in our charts, it’s like life hands us a pair of customized rose-colored glasses, but the prescription is way off. Suddenly, everything feels a bit magical, like we're starring in your own fairytale, except the castle is made of mist, the prince might just be a mirage, and that enchanted forest? It’s actually a parking lot.

But why bother making us feel loony? On a more serious note, our master illusionist possesses the higher purpose of awakening our connection to something greater than the everyday grind. It gently pulls us out of the rigid boundaries of reality and whispers, "There’s more to life than meets the eye." It invites us to explore the depths of our imagination, spirituality, and compassion, blurring the lines between self and universe. The illusions it creates are really a nudge to dissolve our ego’s grip, helping us see beyond the material and embrace a higher sense of love, creativity, and unity with the cosmos.

As inspiring and touching as it sounds, the catch is that fulfilling Neptune’s mission can feel like chasing fog—just when we think we’ve got a handle on it, it slips through our fingers. Neptune wants us to transcend reality and connect with the divine, but let’s be real: that’s not exactly a day-to-day, grocery-list-friendly goal. For someone with heavy Neptune influence, this pursuit of higher meaning can be disorienting, leaving them feeling lost in a sea of "what ifs" and "maybes." And thanks to its grandeur idealism, it can push people to be hypersensitive, highly fearful of failure and completely inaccurate with what they may achieve in a day, let alone a lifetime!

For a Neptunian, the intuitive desire to be flawless and sufficient does not come from wordly expectations, but from a place of soulful calling that more often unconsciously than consciously tells them they're limitless beings living in a limited reality. And this is exactly the greatest challenge of all: to accept that the truth must be known while respecting the illusion, just as a spiritual teacher Michael Mirdad states.

That said, you can imagine what happens when mystical and whimsical Neptune gets cozy with your personal planets. Let's see in detail how it sprinkles its glitter them:

Sun

Soft Aspects: With soft aspects, your Sun is shining brighter than ever! Neptune sprinkles fairy dust on your creativity and confidence, making you feel like a superstar in your own musical. It’s all about embracing your spiritual side and believing that you can conquer the world—cape optional!

Hard Aspects: You’re the artist of your own identity, but the canvas keeps shifting. One day you’re an astronaut, the next day you’re a poet, and by the end of the week, you’re contemplating becoming a full-time mystic. Neptune tells you, "Be everything," but sometimes that just leaves you wondering, "Who am I, really?"

Moon

Soft Aspects: Your emotions flow like a gentle river, and you’re tuned in to everyone’s feelings like a super empath (you could be a cool wizard/witch or clairvoyant!). Neptune wraps you in a cozy blanket of intuition, making heartfelt connections feel like a warm hug from the universe. Cue the happy tears!

Hard Aspects: Enter the emotional whirlpool! Neptune can stir up your feelings like a cosmic blender, leading to mood swings and a general sense of overwhelm. You might find yourself daydreaming your way through real-life emotions, and good luck figuring out what you actually feel!

Mercury

Soft Aspects: With Neptune’s gentle nudge, your thoughts become a beautiful symphony! Communication flows like honey, and you’re bursting with creative ideas. It’s a fantastic time for writing, brainstorming, or chatting about all things magical and dreamy! You could be a music lover, a great singer or a romantic poet.

Hard Aspects: But when Neptune goes rogue, it’s like trying to read a recipe in a funhouse—everything’s upside down! Your thoughts get scattered, and communication feels like a game of telephone gone wrong. Get ready for misunderstandings and the occasional “Wait, what did you just say?” This aspect looks very similar to a Piscean or Sagittarian Mercury, a common link to ADHD.

Venus

Soft Aspects: Love is in the air! Neptune turns your romantic life into a whimsical fairy tale, where everything feels enchanting. Your heart opens wide, and connections deepen, making even the smallest moments feel like a scene from a rom-com.

Hard Aspects: But hold on! Neptune might have you wearing those rose-colored glasses a bit too tightly. You might find yourself idealizing partners or being swept away by fantasies, only to crash back to reality when things don’t match your dreamy expectations. Ouch!

Mars

Soft Aspects: With Neptune in your corner, your drive becomes a creative spark! You’re ready to take action with a burst of inspiration, making you feel like a superhero on a mission. Time to tackle those goals with flair and imagination!

Hard Aspects: When Neptune throws in a twist, it’s like trying to run through quicksand. Your motivation might wane, leaving you confused about where to focus your energy. It’s a cosmic case of “I had a plan… what was it again?”

To wrap it up after such long post, living with Neptune’s influence means you’ve got a backstage pass to the land of dreams, creativity, and big feelings. But it also means you might find yourself getting tangled up in illusions, setting sky-high standards that real life simply can’t meet. So when Neptune touches your personal planets, just remember: it's okay to dream big, but keep a little reality check in your back pocket. You can chase those rainbows, but don’t forget to pack an umbrella for when they dissolve into rain.

Thanks so much for reading, love you! 🥰

Written by @soberpluto

[devil-in-hiding]

estranged childhood best friend Simon said he’d always be there if you truly needed him. And he meant it. As he got older though, and he became more dangerous, and more of a target, he knew for your sake that he had to cut ties.

Simon Riley died, all that was left was Ghost. And so of course he did to you what his name would suggest, he ghosts you. He cuts off all contact, he makes a vow to himself that he’ll never speak to you again, you’ll never see him again, and hopefully you’ll forget about him.

But you don’t. He never gave you a reason for his absence, and you assume the worst. You’re left believing that he KIA, that he’s gone for good. Simon loves you, he’d never cut you off. You still text him, every single day and night.

He didn’t block your number, he just never answers you. When Simon died and Ghost clawed his way out of the ashes, he got rid of everything from his old life he could. Except for one old, cracked phone. The only number left on it is yours. Even years after you assume he’s dead you keep texting him. You say good morning and good night everyday without fail, you tell him everything that happens in your life, even the smallest details. And he reads all the texts. He wants so badly to type back, to respond, but he just can’t do it. He knows he’s a dangerous man, a bad person, and you deserve better than him.

You could never move on. You could never make new friends, and you could never open yourself up to dating. Without Simon you have nothing left. Your life starts to fall apart, slowly but surely. Ghost has to watch in horror and dismay as the things you text him about shift from everyday life, to the horrible things that’s happening. When you text him about the dangerous people you owe money to though, telling him you’re going to see him soon, it’s the last straw.

“I’ll always be there, if ya really need it luv.”

well, you really need it. You need him. He didn’t want it to come to this but he knew if he didn’t help you now it would be too late. He thought he was helping you by cutting you off, but instead he may have gotten you killed.

He rushes to you, praying to a god he long since thought abandoned him. When gets to your house there’s black vans cars lined outside, the door left ajar. All sane thoughts have left his head, he just knows that you’re inside, with dangerous people, and he has to get there. And just like when he’s on the battlefield, a sense of clarity washes through him. As he makes his way through the house, slaughtering the people in his path, the people who want to hurt you, he doesn’t give them a second thought. When he finds you in the kitchen, tears staining your cheeks and blood splattered on your shirt as you lay terrified on the floor, he falls to his knees before you. He caresses your cheek softly, not caring about the blood soaking his hands.

“please… don’t hurt me.” You whimper softly, and he can’t help but laugh softly as he takes off the mask.

“I’d never hurt you luv. S’okay.” You whispers, watching the realization flash before your eyes.

“Si- Simon?” You ask, sitting up to get a better look at him. His face may be disfigured with all the scars, but you can tell it’s him.

“Not anymore.”

-🫧

i am so in love with you and your brain

you have no idea what your thoughts do to me

like

you are a work of art to me

[goquokka00]

Hellooooo! Can I request bangchan x innocent!reader? Kind of like corruption kink, also, reader is a virgin. And can you pls pls pls add some overstimulation plss? Sending love 🩷🩷

Oh, definitely!!! Took me a bit to get actual good ideas and decide the flow and all that, but I think this one turned out really well. Hope it's what you were picturing 💗💗💗

Corruption

Summary: Chan was always aware of how innocent his step sister was. He was also aware of how good of a student she was, too. It always managed to feed into his imagination, and it didn't help that you were his ideal type. So imagine his surprise when he found the perfect blackmail to get his precious little sister to do whatever he wanted.

Pairing: Step Bro! Bangchan X Step Sis! Reader (F!)

Genre: Smut (MDNI!)

Warnings: Stepcest, Chan is manipulative, Reader is gullible, a little bit of bullying kinda? but they're step siblings so they're gonna pick on each other anyway, mentions of masturbation, nipple play, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, dirty talk, p in v sex, unprotected penetrative sex (please wrap it before you tap it everyone), squirting, overstimulation, 100% 18+ (seriously like if you're a minor don't read pls and thank you <3)

Word Count: 5.3K

The first time Chan had ever met you was when his mom decided to have you and your dad over for dinner. At that point in time, your parents had been together for about a year and had finally deemed that it was time for you both to meet.

Now, Chan had been fully aware that his mom's boyfriend had a daughter. He knew that you were extremely kind and sweet, as his mom put it, and that you were a very good student. He had also found out that you were younger than him by about 6 years.

He was NOT warned about how beautiful you were. The second you had walked into his home, your crop top and very short shorts hugging your body in all of the right places, a sweatshirt tied around your waist as you took off your sandals and straightened your bangs out and tightened your ponytail...he already knew he was fucked.

You were the definition of his ideal type. A perky chest, curves, thick thighs...someone who was extremely kind and considerate, and wanted nothing more than to just help out where they could...god, you were perfect.

That night, during dinner, you paid attention to every detail him or his mom had said. What his interests were, what his mom liked in children, rules that they had in the household, and so much more. You took all of that information in and remembered it. Every question you were asked was answered with such...perfect answers.

How were your grades? All A's, with a few B's, but nothing too extreme.

What were you majoring in? No clue, you were just focusing on generals at a local community college until you figured out the career path you wanted to take.

What were some of your favorite hobbies? Writing, reading, drawing, sometimes even going on walks or going to the library to study on fascinating topics.

What chores did you usually do? Anything that had to be done, but you weren't a fan of doing the dishes because of the small bits of food that would touch your hand and scare the crap out of you.

You were like an angel from heaven. Even after dinner, when Chan and his mom were cleaning up, you offered to help dry dishes and tidy up a bit. It was unbelievable.

You were unbelievable.

Eventually, over the years, Chan got to know you better. And he got to understand that you were, in fact, innocent. You didn't know anything about sex, you didn't cuss, you went to church with your dad every Sunday at 9am, you've never done drugs or drank alcohol, and you had beliefs that prevented you from doing any wrong.

Upon finding this out, Chan realized something that stirred within him. He wanted to taint you. He wanted to corrupt you, make you the farthest thing from innocent. He fantasized about it, thinking up ideas on how he'd be able to get you to succumb to him. But he never acted on it.

But that feeling lingered. And it only got worse when your dad and his mom got married, which resulted in him and his mom moving in with you and your dad. Your house was bigger, anyway. It could easily fit the two of them.

But God, those feelings of wanting to corrupt you got so much worse. He was around you so much more often, seeing you do tasks so...seductively. And you weren't even trying to.

One time, the remote to the TV fell underneath the couch while you and him were watching an anime series. You had instantly got to the ground, got on all fours, and reached underneath the couch to grab the remote. And in the process, Chan got a whole view of your ass. Your perfect ass in those gym shorts, your pussy outlined just enough to give him ideas.

There was another time you had been doing laundry, and was just switching the loads around. Chan just happened to walk by when he saw you bent over in an oversized t-shirt, the only thing covering your cunt being your panties as you swapped loads.

What Chan wouldn't do to give you his.

It got to the point where Chan couldn't help but steal your panties when it was his turn to do the laundry and jerk off with it. It felt like the only way he'd ever get to even have you. Breathing in what your pussy could smell like, maybe even putting your panties in his mouth to try and get a taste...

It was getting bad. Chan knew he'd have to do something at this point. He had to get you, he had to have you. But how? You were perfect, you did no wrong. And you would NEVER just...do it because he wanted it.

Well, luckily for Chan, an opportunity presented itself.

See, you were in college. Both of you were, which was why both of you still lived at home. Better than the dorms, much better.

Because you were in college, you had to take a very important test for your major, known as the Literary Composition Exam, or the LCE. You had spent weeks studying for this test. You'd spend hours locked up in your room, going over every little bit of material that was available to you, doing whatever it took to make absolute certain that you passed.

Except...you didn't.

For whatever reason, when you went to take the exam, the material wasn't the same as the stuff you had studied. And so, while some of it was the same, you did your best to answer everything correctly.

But when you received the test today, you had seen that you had failed it. Miserably. Your heart sank, even as you took it out of your backpack once you got home. How were you supposed to tell your parents? You...you couldn't. You refused to share that with them.

You gently placed the test face down on your desk, putting a few papers over it before going to the bathroom. Maybe...maybe a warm shower would help melt that stress away.

But as you were taking a shower, Chan had gone into your room. It was his turn to do the laundry this week and was going and collecting all of the dirty clothing from each room. Your room was the last Chan had to go to, and then he could get all of the loads started.

But as he went to your closet, he noticed a paper underneath some others. It looked like all marked up, and he couldn't help but be curious. Weren't you supposed to get your results back for your LCE today?

Chan took that moment, reaching for the paper and sliding it out from under the others. Instantly, his eyes widened. This...this was your test. This was the test that you had spent weeks studying for, and you...you failed it. Chan couldn't believe his eyes as he grazed over all of the pen marks.

You, the perfect, most innocent daughter in your parents' eyes, had failed one of the most important tests that you'd ever have to take in your college career.

It was remarkable. Chan couldn't take his eyes off of it, looking at each question you had gotten wrong. There were so many...you usually aced every test that you ever took...EVER. Seeing how much you had gotten wrong was just insane.

And that...was when you walked back into your room.

You had changed into a sweatshirt and some gym shorts, your hair dried and in a ponytail. You had your dirty clothes in your hands, and had just wanted to lay down. But instead, you were met with the sight of Chan in your room, your failed LCE in his hands. Immediately, your heart dropped.

"Chan, what are you doing in my room?!" You were frantic, throwing your clothes to the side as you tried to reach for your test. But just before you could reach it, Chan held it out of your reach, raising a brow.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I just wanted to look your test over. It's pretty interesting." Chan spoke. He went back to it, flipping through the endless pages. "It's not every day I get to see that you managed to fail anything, let alone one of the most important tests in your entire college career."

"Chan!"

"What, I'm just saying." Chan shrugged, continuing to keep your test away from you. You weren't amused, going to him and reaching for it, practically climbing onto his body to try and get the test from him.

"This isn't funny, give that test back!"

"No way, this is legendary."

"Chan, seriously!"

"I'm being serious! I already said I want to look at it, why are you so desperate to get...it...back...oh my god." Suddenly, Chan realized something. It was why you were so desperate to get that test back. "You haven't told mom and dad yet."

"No, and I really don't want to." God, just the idea of your parents finding out that you had completely bombed the single most important test in your entire college career made you sick to your stomach. But Chan? Oh, this gave him leverage. Something to hang over your head, to potentially use against you.

It couldn't be more perfect.

"You're not going to tell them? Really?" Chan raised a brow, looking back to the test. It was only for a moment, before he looked back at you, a smirk on his face. "Then I guess I'll have to break the news to them-"

"NO!" It was one thing for you to have to tell your parents, but if Chan told them first...? Oh, it'd be hell on earth.

"Well, they can't not know, Y/n."

"Yes, they can! There's a retake next month, and I'll be extra sure to pass this time, just...they can't know!"

"I don't know...keeping things from our parents is so...wrong, don't you think?" Chan then turned, starting to go towards the door. "I'm going to go and show them this. Keeping secrets is bad."

"Chan, please no!" Like that, you were wrapping your arms around his torso, holding him there in an attempt to keep him from leaving your room. He couldn't leave, or he'd tell. "Please...I-I'll do anything."

Oh, you shouldn't have said that. You really shouldn't have said that.

Chan slowly turned, not believing his ears. For a moment, his dick twitched, slowly starting to betray him as he looked at you, your eyes shining and begging him to stay and not go. To not tell your parents. Was this finally it? Was he getting the chance he had craved for so long?

"...anything?"

"Anything." You confirmed it, right then and there. You were really willing to do anything in order to keep Chan from blabbing to your parents. This was it. This was finally what Chan had craved for forever.

And he couldn't wait.

"Well then, I guess we can figure something out, can't we?" Chan said, handing you your test. You quickly took it back, moving to hide it once more. And you were going to hide it even better than you had. "I'll keep my mouth shut up until you've retaken the test and pass. But you have to do something for me, too."

"Okay, and that is...?" You asked, turning around. You weren't sure what Chan had up his sleeve, but you had said you'd do anything to keep the horrible grades a secret. You always kept your promises too, which Chan was very aware of. And so, he'd have to be careful about how he went about this.

"See, I was asked by a friend to do some research on how to best please a girl." God, he sounded so stupid. He sounded completely and utterly stupid. "And while porn exists and yada yada yada, I want to make sure that all of the techniques actually work. And since you said you'd do anything to keep this whole test thing a secret, I was thinking you could help me out. A favor for a favor."

Please work, please work, please work, please work, please work, please-

"Um, well I guess when you put it that way...I wouldn't mind, I suppose..." You bought it. Holy fucking shit, you bought it. Chan couldn't even believe his ears. "But I've never really...done anything like it before, so I don't have a preference."

"Oh, well...that's okay. I was thinking that maybe we could give some stuff a shot. Y'know, field test a bit." Keep squeezing the orange, Chan. He was so close; he was practically salivating at this point. "Obviously if you get uncomfortable, we can stop, but I just really want to help out my friend, you know? And you would really help me out in return."

Well, if that was the case, then you could understand why Chan wanted your help so bad. You were like a fly caught in his web at this point. He was simply asking for your help, and you trusted him.

"I mean, if it'll help out, then I guess I don't see the problem in it." Bingo. Chan couldn't believe that had actually worked. He thought you would've called him gross, that step siblings shouldn't do that kind of stuff. Part of him wanted to question you, figure out if you were serious or not. But it was only a small one.

He worked hard for this. He wasn't just about to give it up.

"Alright, then do you think you could clear up some time tonight? That way we can have plenty of time." Reality? Your parents were both leaving to be out of town around 5pm. They wouldn't be back until a few days later.

"Oh, yeah. That makes sense." God, just how gullible were you? Gullible enough to make Chan's cock throb, it seemed.

All he had to do was wait.

||

It took about 3 whole hours for your parents to actually leave. And while they only left thirty minutes behind schedule, it felt like hell on earth for Chan. He wanted nothing more than to get into your panties, play with you for hours and make you writhe and squirm and cry.

Chan wanted to make absolutely certain that they wouldn't be in the house, though. If your parents found out about this, he'd be in a whole world of trouble. Both of you would be.

And so, he waited a whole extra hour, watching the Life360 that your parents had forced you both onto, making sure they were far enough away to where he knew they weren't going to turn around. And once he was sure, he walked to your room and knocked on the door, stepping inside.

"Hey, you got some free time?" Chan walked inside, seeing you laying on your bed. You were only in an oversized shirt, thigh high socks, and panties, scrolling through your phone. God, just the outline of your cunt got Chan riled all over again.

"Yeah, what's up?" You asked, turning. You were so adorable, it hurt. Chan stepped inside more, gently shutting the door before walking over to you, before sitting on your bed.

"I was wondering if we could start trying stuff out. Figure out what pleases you best." Chan said, watching your face light up as you remembered what he was talking about.

"Oh, okay. Sure." You said, moving to sit up. Chan smiled, moving a bit so you'd have some room. "What exactly are we starting with?"

"Well, I wanted to start with playing around with your breasts a bit. I've heard that feels nice." Chan said, his hands fidgeting with themselves. They wanted to be on your body so badly. Finally touch something that was so pure.

"Okay." The second you gave him permission, Chan's hands were on you. He started by cupping the flesh through the shirt, gently massaging them as he watched you closely. Your breathing had hitched, your eyes watching what he was doing. But it was when he looked back down that his blood ran down to his cock.

"You...you aren't wearing a bra...?" Chan couldn't believe his eyes. Your nipples were perked, practically poking themselves through the shirt you had on.

"Well, yeah. Bras aren't that comfortable, so..." You just shrugged, before gasping as Chan brushed over them. He moved his thumbs back and forth against them, moving to pinch them gently. That got a whine out of you, and it was such a beautiful sound.

"Jesus...that feels nice?" Chan asked, watching you nod. That was good, and to him, an indication to go further. He carefully moved your shirt up, taking it off to see your bare chest in all of it's glory.

It was gorgeous. Nipples perky and stiff, your flesh round and supple. It was everything Chan could've wanted plus more. And when he touched your skin, it was so soft... it was soft and delicate and so perfect.

Every time his fingers flicked, pinched or messed with your nipples, you'd whine and squirm a bit, the sight always going straight to his dick. He was so hard, he wanted nothing more than to just flip you over and fuck you right then and there. But he wanted to take his time, too.

And that's what he did.

He moved his head down, eventually taking one of your breasts into his mouth, using his tongue to flick against your nipple and sucking on your skin. The feeling of it caused you to moan, arching your back into him more.

"Ch-Chan..." Oh, you moaning his name made him want to scream. He was so hard, you were so perfect, everything about this situation was perfect.

He eventually pulled off, looking up at you as he continued to mess around with your chest, giving you a cheeky smile. He knew what he was doing felt good.

"Good?"

"M-Mhm..."

"Mhm?" Chan couldn't help but laugh a bit, finding your reaction adorable. But he wanted to take things further. Just a little bit. "Can we go further? Want me to make you feel even better?"

"Ye...Yeah...Yes..."

"Alright...go ahead and lay down then."

As you laid down, Chan was finally able to see your panties for the first time. They were pink with white paw prints, a tiny little white bow on the front. They were so cute on you, practically signaling how innocent you truly were. And when Chan got himself between your legs, spreading your legs apart, he noticed the wet patch laying right over your cunt.

"Look at that...already so wet, and it's all for me..." Chan licked his lips, taking a hand off of your leg to your clothed pussy. Slowly, agonizingly so, he placed his pointer right where your clit should be, bringing it down to your hole. It was feather light, and it caused you to whine and squirm. "That feel nice? I bet it does, you're getting wetter by the second."

He wasn't wrong, unfortunately. That wet spot got bigger the more he spoke, the more he barely touched you. It was agonizing, yeah, but god, it was amazing, too.

Chan admired it for a moment. One of the many panties he'd steal were right here on your body, forming one of the largest wet patches he'd ever seen in his life. It was wrong. But god, did he not care. He didn't care in the slightest.

He eventually leaned his head down, pressing a kiss right onto your mound, breathing in your smell. Musky, but so so sweet. And once that was committed to memory, he figured it was time to get rid of the panties and see the real thing.

"Let's get these off of you, huh?" Chan's hands moved as he spoke, hooking around your panties and bringing them down your body, his eyes not leaving yours once until the panties were completely off. And the second he saw you, his everything stopped. His brain, his heart...the only thing that was working was his dick, and that thing was throbbing.

You were beautiful. It was the cutest little pussy Chan had ever seen in his life, glistening wet. And when he spread your folds open, he was met with a pink that rivaled the panties you had on. Not to mention how your hole was clenching, and your clit was peeking out from under it's hood.

"God...you're so fucking beautiful." Chan couldn't even take his eyes off of you. He took his finger again, gently touching the pink muscle, touching your clit and pulling it back to get a better look. It made you squirm, your hole clenching. "You have such a pretty pussy...and to think it's on my step sister..."

All you did was whine, not really knowing what to say. The touch felt nice, but his words were nicer. You'd never heard him talk like that before. And the pit that grew in your stomach when you heard it was beyond amazing.

Chan took a moment to continue just touching you, watching how you'd react to certain touches, where you liked to be touched. But he knew he could do more. He could do so much more.

And so, keeping his eyes on you, he lowered his head and gently flicked your clit once, watching as your breath hitched, your hips flinch a bit.

"That feel good?" Chan asked. He already knew the answer, and it was only further confirmed by you nodding.

With that nod, he went back down, using his tongue to give one long lick up your folds, before flicking your clit and coaxing it out of it's hood, gently suckling on the small bundle of nerves. That got a nice, loud moan out of you.

"Oh my...god, Chan...!" Oh, the way you said his name in such a vulnerable way...it was absolutely delicious. It made Chan groan, his hips bucking into the bed.

His pattern was immaculate. He'd suck on your clit, using his tongue to tease it in the meantime while his hands went to spread your cunt apart. He wanted to make sure that you were nice and vulnerable so he could really get in there. And oh, the moans you rewarded him with. They were absolutely perfect.

Your taste was even better. Salty, sweet, just a tiny bit of tang but not too much...It made him realize more and more just how much he craved you, how much he just wanted to ruin you into nothing.

Eventually, he went further, diving his tongue into your hole to really scrape out your juices, his nose consistently bumping into your clit. And it made you cry out, your legs wanting to close, feeling yourself get closer and closer to the edge. But Chan didn't let you. He gave your cunt one last lick before moving his hands to keep you spread once more, before looking up at you, licking his lips.

"Keep yourself spread, okay? I want you nice and wide so I can taste all of you." Chan spoke. You couldn't help but nod, feeling the need to comment.

"I...It feels really good, by the way. Whatever you're doing it...it feels really, really good."

"Does it?"

"Yeah..."

"Yeah?" Oh, the smile on Chan's face when you said that. You probably gave him that input so he knew this was good for his friend to know. But he wasn't here for that. No no no. He was here simply to get you to cum over, and over, until you couldn't take anymore.

He eventually dove back in, plunging his tongue into you while his arms and hands kept you nice and spread, not wanting you to squirm around too much. And he kept going, even as you began to buck your hips, trying to squirm and get away.

"Chan, I...I feel weird..." You could feel the coil in your gut, a form of tightness as you neared closer and closer. Chan could feel it too, as your legs were really starting to shake.

"It's okay, you're just gonna hit an orgasm soon." Chan's voice was muffled, due to his face being buried in your delicate cunt, which was dripping more and more of it's juices into his mouth. "Get there though, go ahead and just release it, okay? Can you do that for me?"

You could, and you did. You moaned out, your hips bucking as Chan practically latched himself onto you. He continued to work you through your orgasm, watching as you panted and shook, the orgasm washing right through you.

"There you go, good girl..." Once you had calmed down, Chan debated on moving on. He could let you experience his cock, which had been painfully throbbing to get into the pussy it's been wanting for so long. Or he could simply keep going with this.

That's what he did.

The second you stopped squirming, he latched right back onto your clit, making your squirm from the oversensitivity, feeling something new. Something different. You couldn't look down, as your back was arched and your head was thrown back, in nothing but pure ecstasy, but the second you felt something inside of you, you gasped, before getting louder.

You didn't know what it was, as Chan's head hadn't moved at all. But Chan knew. He had slipped a finger inside of you, and he groaned once he felt just how tight you were. He knew you were going to be tight, but he didn't expect what he had felt.

"God, you're so tight...how are you ever supposed to fit any cock in there, huh?" Chan pulled back, watching as you took his finger, Chan adding another one to watch you really grip it. "You're practically sucking in my fingers...does it feel that good? Are you that needy?"

All you could do was moan as Chan plunged his fingers deep into you, eventually curling them up and rubbing that gummy spot. It only took two small movements with his hands for you to cum again, your body shaking once more as your back arched again.

"Oh, you're so pretty when you cum like that, sis...look at you, squirming around for me and everything..." Chan couldn't take it anymore. If he didn't put himself inside of you, Chan would go insane.

And so, he pulled himself back, moving to get his cock out of his pants. The poor thing was red tipped, angry. It was harder than Chan had ever seen himself. But it didn't stop him from lining himself up with your entrance. Hell, it encouraged him to do so.

"You're being so good, letting me figure out what feels best for a girl. You're such an amazing little sister, helping me out with this, all because you don't want our parents to know about some silly little test grades..." As Chan spoke, he rubbed his tip against your cunt, coating himself with your juices as you whined and squirmed, the pleasure already too much for you.

But then, Chan pushed in. And both of you moaned out. For you, it was the stretch. He felt amazing when he went inside and stretched you out. And him? You were so tight, practically hugging his cock inside of you, gripping onto him for dear life.

"Jesus christ, you're like a fucking vice, squeezing me like that..." Chan eventually began to move, thrusting in and out. He was slow at first, knowing that this was your first time, and that you hadn't taken dick before.

But from the way you were moaning, he could tell you liked it. And so he sped up. He moved quicker, harsher. And you couldn't help but moan, feeling him move so quickly nonstop, not taking any breaks to catch his breath. All you could do was cry out, feeling him practically pound into you.

It was when Chan lifted up your leg when you felt him reach that gummy spot again, hitting it every single time without fail. And that got you to cum for the third time.

"C-CHAN!"

Your body shook as Chan stopped, quickly spitting on his hand to go and rub tight circles on your clit to help you through the orgasm, watching as your body shook and writhed from the pleasure. But this time, he didn't wait for you to calm down. No, after a few seconds, he started up again, grunting as he felt your walls flutter around him while he moved.

"God, you feel so good around me, squeezing me while you're cumming...my dick is just that good, huh? Does that feel good?" Chan asked, continuing to harshly thrust as he rubbed tight circles around your clit.

You simply whimpered, your hips bucking with every movement. It's like you couldn't control yourself anymore. Everything Chan was doing was incredible. You didn't know how, or why, but...it was amazing. It was overloading your brain. You felt so good, too good.

And before you even knew it, the fourth orgasm hit. And it hit hard.

At this point, you were so wet from all of the other orgasms and Chan's saliva that Chan slipped out, accidentally pulling out too much as your body trembled. And that was when it happened. You felt a new sensation, almost like a liquid was shooting out of you, and onto wherever it was landing.

You don't know, you couldn't think. But Chan knew, because it landed on him. Just seeing that made him groan as he stroked himself.

"Mm, you just squirted everywhere....making a fucking mess because my dick is just that good, yeah?" Once you had stopped, Chan was back inside of you, almost relentless at this point.

He just couldn't handle it. Seeing you squirt on him, on his cock, something that was so wrong and foul...it made him feral. He just couldn't believe it. He was surprised he didn't just cum from watching you do that.

But you...oh, you were so overwhelmed. So overstimulated. Everything felt way too good, and you were completely lost within the pleasure to even know what was happening. It was way too much, and your body was well aware of that.

"S'too much, I can't....! I can't, Chan, I...too much...!" It's all you were chanting at this point.

But Chan...he was finally getting the fantasy he had thought up for so long. Finally, you were here underneath him, absolutely wrecked and overstimulated, tears going down your cheeks from the overwhelming amount of pleasure he was bringing you.

"Give me one more...just one more, sis...please? You can do one more, I'll even go with you this time...please, just one more." At this point, he was getting desperate, too. But all you could do was shake your head, completely overwhelmed by the sheer amount of pleasure coursing into your body.

"I can't-"

"You can, I promise...I know you can, just one more..."

Before he even knew it, you came for the last time, screaming out his name from the sheer bliss. And this time, your walls fluttering around him was what did him in. He just groaned loudly as he filled you, still pumping into you as he rode both of your highs out.

Once he had come down from his high, he simply pulled out, flopping down next to you, pulling your shaking form next to him, both of you breathing heavily. Nothing was said, and nothing had to be said.

All that was known was that this definitely wouldn't be the first time this would end up happening.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d

[mouseymilkovich]

Fools | Carmy x Reader Fic

read speechless first! | masterlist | playlist | pinterest board | next chapter

Fic Summary: The Beef is closed, The Bear is coming. You've taken fewer hours at your job to lend a hand— for Sydney, of course. You and Carmy decided to stay friends— just friends. Things would be better that way, right? ...or wouldn't they?

Chapter Summary: Time for your new journey, alongside your best friend, Sydney Adamu, and the man who complicated your life these days, Carmen Berzatto. You're determined to make being "just friends" with Carmy work, but is he as determined as you are? | Carmy Berzatto x fem/afab reader (using they/them pronouns)

Important Info: The sequel to Speechless! (Seriously, read that first otherwise this fic won't make much sense), (texting, the usual) pink = reader, green = Sydney

Content Tags: Smut in the first chapter? You bet baby! Reader mentions wanting to drink, unprotected sex (reader is still on birth control tho dw), reader gets sad

Chapter One: Bad Idea, Right?

Word Count: 2k

"It's so weird, seeing The Beef sign not hanging," You commented as you approached the restaurant with Marcus, coffees in hand. Sydney and Carmy were already standing outside, watching the sign being taken away.

"Yeah... kinda feels bittersweet," Marcus replied as you both reached Sydney and Carmy. You each handed them the coffees you had for them.

This whole "just friends" thing with Carmy was proving to be more difficult than you initially thought. He still haunted your dreams, your nightmares, and a good majority of your thoughts. Now, that you were taking fewer hours at work to help with The Bear, you were in close proximity to Carmy almost every damn day. Part of you wondered if he felt the same, but you still remembered those stinging words of him calling you a "little fling" that day— you were long past that fight, you'd made up, but those words still haunted you. It were as if you'd meant nothing to him at all.

"Let it go," You internally reminded yourself— then your mind devolved into the actual song. Damn Disney and their catchy music.

"C'mon, let's go inside," Sydney nudged you, breaking you from your thoughts.

You followed her inside, leaving Marcus and Carmy on the sidewalk. Sugar was inside, busying herself with something that you really didn't understand, she was more on the business side of things.

Your thing was interior design. Of course, your boring little office job wasn't for that, so when Syd had offered to hire you on for interior design for The Bear, you jumped at the chance— even if it meant spending more time than you'd like with Carmy.

"You seem distracted. You alright, dude?" Syd asked you, sympathy behind her tone.

"Yeah... just... this whole being just friends thing with Carmy is weird getting used to. That's all," You reassured. You'd made a decision that you wouldn't be hiding shit from her this time; but, some things you wouldn't go into extensive detail about.

"It'll be alright, just think of this as... getting to spend more time with me?" Syd muttered with a playful nudge.

"Yeah, you're right." You smiled softly.

It was something you'd talked about when you were approaching your final year of high school— Syd opening a restaurant, you designing the interior of said restaurant. It was nice to finally see that dream through... even if it involved the man who complicated your life these days.

Well, at least with Richie taking on the role of maître d'hôtel at The Bear, you'd be working in close proximity with him more than Carmy. You'd gotten along with Richie since the first moment you stepped into The Beef while Syd was working there, so there was that at the very least. You'd also be working closely with Marcus, and the rest of the former Beef staff who'd become your friends— that was a plus at the very least in all of this.

"I've been sketching and writing down loads of ideas," You told Sydney. You could only hope you could run those ideas by Sydney more than Carmy.

Of course, the boys came inside in that moment, and Carmy had to chime in. "Can't wait to see them."

So much for running those ideas by Sydney more than Carmy.

You gave Carmy an awkward smile over your shoulder, then looked at Sydney again. "Um, wanna come over tonight and we can talk some of it over?"

"Shit, I'm sorry, I can't— I would, I really would but I have a meeting with this up and coming journalist about the restaurant," She frowned.

"Oh, it's okay! We can worry about it another time—"

"I can come talk some of it over if you want?" Carmy suggested.

Of course he suggested coming over. Why did he insist on tormenting you? Still, you were determined to make this "just friends" thing work. So, you relented, a big ass forced smile on your face.

"Sounds great!"

┈

You wished so desperately you could've backed out of this. But, no, this "just friends" thing was going to work, come hell or high water, and you were not going to sacrifice your interior design job just because of stupid Carmy... and his stupid handsome face and stupid good looking body and stupid charming smile. Stupid Carmen Berzatto.

Carmy came to your apartment with you, you both headed inside. You decided to make a mental note, "Always bring your art tablet, sketchbook, and notebook with you to the restaurant from now on."

"Want some water? Pop? Wine? Snacks?" You asked, trying not to sound as nervous as you felt with Carmy being back in your apartment for the first time since your fight with Sydney.

"I could actually go for a coffee, maybe?" Carmy muttered, sitting on your couch.

"Alright. Well, um... make yourself comfortable!" With that, you scurried to your kitchen.

Why did it suddenly feel like you were living in a really fucked up romcom?

You took a deep breath, making Carmy a coffee and yourself a tea. This was for work, Carmy was here strictly for business.

You'd also made the decision of no more drinking if a situation involved Carmy— that would be a bad mixture. But man, you'd kill for a fucking glass of wine right now.

Okay, this would all be fine. You were not intoxicated, you had no excuse to make any moves on Carmy, absolutely none. But what if he did that stupid thing where he flexed in that stupid white t-shirt and— STOP.

Jesus Christ. You gave yourself a quick splash of cold water to the face. Calm down, calm the fuck down.

You finally made your way back to the living room as you took a deep breath. "Here you go, Carm!"

"You remembered how I take it?" He asked.

"Well, yeah, I did just get you a coffee this morning—"

"That's different. You buy different coffee."

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"Why are you being so weird?" You grumbled.

"Me? Why are you being so weird?" Carmy asked, almost sounding offended. "You've been like this all day."

"Oh my god, like what?" You asked.

"Just... I don't know!" Carmy exclaimed.

Suddenly, you realized the proximity to Carmy was a little too close.

"Like... nervous and fuckin' jittery around me and shit," Carmy muttered.

"No I'm not!" Yes you were.

And then Carmy smirked. You felt a chill run up your spine, and an all to familiar warmth in your stomach... arousal. From Carmy. Stupid, stupid, hot Carmy.

It only took a matter of seconds for both of you to snap. Carmy was kissing you, you were kissing him back. You knew Carmy being in your apartment was a bad idea.

You barely even remember how the two of you ended up in your bedroom, all you knew was that you were naked, he was naked, and he had you on all fours at the foot of your bed, and he was wasting absolutely no time fucking pounding you.

It'd been a while since you'd gotten fucked like that— well, fucked at all, admittedly. Since before your fight with Sydney, actually, cus you and Carmy hadn't done anything that night, and you hadn't bothered to see anybody else since your fight with Carmy.

"Ah— Carm— holy fuck—" You cried out as he pulled you up, the angle making him hit that soft spot inside you.

"Fuck, you feel s'fuckin good, baby," He groaned in your ear, one hand pawing at your tits, the other using his thumb to tease and rub your clit.

You tossed your head back against Carmy's shoulder, every sensation drawing you closer to the edge.

"C'mon, wanna feel you cum on my dick, pretty girl," He growled in your ear as he felt your walls clenching.

"Jesus— fuck—" You yelped, Carmy let you fall forward against the mattress as you came, your breathing becoming ragged and heavy.

"Good girl, gooood girl," Carmy grunted as he kept fucking into you, nearing his own orgasm. His familiar, obscene sounds filled the room as his hot seed filled you. "Fuck, takin' it like a fuckin' champ, babe."

You knew Carmy, though. He had a knack for making you cum multiple times in one night, so you knew this was just the beginning.

┈

After a night of sleep from Carmy thoroughly fucking your brains out, you awoke to an empty bed— not only that, but no note, no text. So, you got up, thinking maybe he's making coffee, or breakfast— nope. Nothing, nobody. No Carmy.

You sighed, realizing that last night was a huge fucking mistake. The biggest mistake you'd made in a while, probably a close second to getting involved with him in the first place. This was a thorough disaster, and you decided to make a promise to yourself right now, no more Carmy, no matter how tempting he may seem, this feeling the day after was not worth it, this pain was not worth the high.

You made yourself a coffee, and sat on the couch, contemplating what to do. Do you tell Sydney what happened last night, and beg her not to let you be alone with Carmy ever again? Do you even acknowledge what happened around him at all? Did he feel that it was a mistake too? As the thoughts swirled around your brain, you felt tears pricking your eyes.

Goddammit, of course you were gonna tell Syd. You promised, no more fucking secrets. But that didn't change how awful you were feeling.

i'm gonna be running a little late today. long story, promise i'll tell you later.

oh my god.

tell me you didn't.

How did she figure it out from a single text message? She did always seem to know you a little too well.

i did.

You felt yourself actually starting to cry now. How could you let this happen, after everything? The fights, the makeups, deciding to be only friends... you felt so stupid.

Yeah, this pain was definitely not worth the high.

Soon enough, Sydney let herself and Marcus into your apartment, she had coffees and he had a box of freshly made donuts.

"Oh my god," You mumbled upon seeing them, tear stains tracked all over your cheeks.

"Cheer up squad at your service!" Marcus announced as each of them sat either side of you.

They sandwiched you in a tight hug, Sydney giving you a little kiss on the cheek. It was obvious that Sydney knew by your text how upset you were.

"So... what happened?" Sydney asked softly.

You sighed, and explained that you tried to keep things neutral and normal, then next thing you knew, he was kissing you, you were kissing him back. And then things moved to the bedroom and got heated quickly. Then in the morning... there was nothing. No note, no text, no Carmy. Just a whole load of nothing.

"Can I kill him? I'd like to kill him," Sydney said casually. "I would really, really like to kill him, actually."

You sighed, putting your face in your hands. "Syd, please, I don't wanna confront him with this. I'm embarrassed enough as it is."

Syd sighed and nodded, her arm falling around you to rub your shoulder. "It's okay, yknow. Shit happens."

"Yeah, shit happens," Marcus nodded in agreement. "It was just as much his doing as it was yours."

"Please promise me you guys will keep me from letting him come to my fucking apartment again," You groaned. "Please."

"We'll try our best," Syd muttered, then laughed a little. "I could move in. That would help, right?"

"Very funny," You sighed, knowing your shitty, small one bedroom apartment would definitely not house two people very well.

Thankfully, Sydney and Marcus spent the morning with you, letting you wallow in your sadness and embarrassment in their company. Ah, true friends.

Eventually, you all headed to the future site of The Bear, and you'd discovered that Carmy, Sugar, and Sydney, were aiming to have the damn thing open in three months, with the help of funding from the Berzattos uncle Jimmy. You'd really have your work cut out for you...

In more ways than one.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

tags ; @maggiesarchives @carmenberzattosgf @buendiabebeta @turtle-cant-communicate @fastboatsmojito @wabi-sabi1090 @dearpyramus

click here if you'd like to be tagged in any future updates of my work!

[fuji-sen]

the 'evil imposter' just wants to be a baker!

Prologue: The Food turned Imposter?!

Part 6: Ginisang Ampalaya

[ part 5 ] || [ masterlist ] || [ part 7 ]

divider is made by @/saradika-graphics

"Wait!" Paimon yelped as the Pyro slime that accompanied you lunged at them, going into their ignited state. The floating fairy dodged with ease as Aether was about to bring out his sword out of its sheath.

"Don't hurt them!" You pleaded, and he hesitated, which caused the Pyro Slime to hit him in the face. "Wait Don't hurt Aether either!"

"Yeah!" Paimon nodded in agreement, but yelped in fear once again when the pyro slime turned its attention to her and glared. Who knew something as cute and small could have such a fiery gaze.

Ignoring the two smaller companions, you worriedly approached Aether who was on the ground, he was rubbing his face and wincing at his own touch. "Oh I'm so sorry Aether, he didn't mean it okay? he was just protecting me." You apologized, hands reaching to his face to find the skin dry and warm, but luckily he did not end up with any degree burns, perhaps it was the plot armor protecting the main character's face.

Luckily the blond seemed to be nice about it as he let the incident go, "'s alright, I kinda did freaked you two out." he waved his hand to dismiss your apologies.

Your eyes continued to glance at his face, soaking in his appearance and the finer details the game did not have, it did not also do justice to the other worldly beauty that is Aether "Still your face is a bit red, is it because of pyro here?"

Aether rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed "I'm fine really. it's just . ." he glanced away from you and you flushed realized how you were invading his personal face.

Reeling back you awkwardly chuckled "so what brings you two here?" "Oh. ." Aether stood up, holding his hand out for you silently as he thought about what to say. Should he not tell you just yet so he could easily observe you while your guard wasn't up? or should he tell you now and risk you putting on a mask?

"Well. ." Paimon looked away, slowly floating closer to the duowhile eyeing the pyro slime warily who also approached it's master, you. "We just wanted to get materials and do a few quests in the area." Aether easily offered with a well practiced smile.

Bobbing your head, you didn't think too much about his lie. You had a sneaking feeling after all on why he was here. A part of you wanted to run, run from anybody that wasn't an 'enemy' or 'mob' by the games standards. But Aether was an outlander, maybe he didn't have this crazed devotion to the Creator like Jean and Lisa did.

You took his hand without complaint or any fear, were you this quick to trust people? he wondered. "Thanks!" you smiled at him and stood up with ease- but quickly faltered as something electrocuted you both. It was a tingly sensation at first, until light and golden lightning sprouted from where your two hands made contact, then it travelled, to your wrists then up your arms-

"Ack!" you yelled, shivering in fear as you stepped back, slapping his hand away. "I'm so sorry! What happened?!"

Your eyes widened as you stared something right in front of you. There, right in front of you, emitting a golden light. . was a holographic tabs you'd seen in sci-fi movies.

"What the. ."

[Color] eyes met golden ones, both wide due to shock. You two could both see it. It displayed both of your inventories-

There you could see the uniform Katheryne had given you, the only item in the Cosmetics Section, which was an entirely new section!

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

You two had left the shores of the lake, far away from prying eyes as you two entered stormterror's lair. Since the hilichurls may not take kindly to Aether and Paimon you stayed at the east entrance you had used to get to the lake.

The entire walk had been silent, you and Aether having a calculating look in your faces as you tried to understand what this means for the both of you.

Deciding to just fuck it and hope he doesn't kill you, you decided to speak first, taking charge of the conversation. "Aether. . by chance, did you always have the abilities to have your own inventory space and pull out a virtual map?"

You two had also separately inspected the glowing virtual screen that displayed in front of you. "Yeah, it's something me and my sister picked up from traveling different worlds." He told you, eyes finally moving to glance at you.

That would explain it other than saying the game developers just gave it. "I see. Then, why do I have one. I may come from another world, but being here is purely accidental." You told him and watched as their jaw drops.

"You're also from another world?!"

You nodded at Paimon's question, then put a finger to your mouth to make them quiet down. "Yes." You weighed the options of whether to tell Aether about the whole world being created by a game, it would definitely destroy the residents of the world's mind, but Aether wasn't affected the laws of the world, maybe he'd be safe with this knowledge. . or does uttering it cause an event similar to what happened in the deserts due to the forbidden knowledge?

Still since Paimon was here you decided to hold off on it.

Aether frowned, did that mean you were no imposter nor the creator. That would make you a normal person stuck in a very bad situation. Still. . your voice was familiar to him, as if it was a forgotten song he was slowly remembering.

You felt familiar yet different,

new and old,

friend and stranger. .

"You are finding your sibling right." you suddenly asked, no, it was more of a statement with your tone. The way you spoke and held yourself in front of him, you knew something.

Then your face contorted into one of sadness and pain, as you told him "The journey ahead of you will be very tough Aether, you're sister was fine, but for reasons I'm not yet entirely certain about, she does not want to be found, nor does she want to leave Teyvat at the moment."

"What?!" he grabbed your shoulders, tight enough to make you wince as he desperately waited for an answer.

"She. . She is planning something with an organization, I know things but I cannot make a certain conclusion with it." She winced, the lore and story of teyvat was heavy yet she wasn't an expert, nor was she one to theorized the future and even then she had a hard time wrapping her head around the story. She didn't want to misinform Aether because she, you acknowledged that you aren't entirely sure of things anymore.

The game didn't have a creator, so what knowledge is real or false, what information has been neglected in the game that may be important here?

"At. . at least she's alive." He sighed, nearly falling to the ground from the revelation. Knowing his sister was alive was nice enough, that she was well and kicking and planning like usual. "Could you, could you let go of my shoulders now? it's starting to hurt. ."

He quickly let go "I'm sorry!"

Waving him off, you rubbed your shoulders, the pain slowly disappearing. "It's alright." you assured him, you understood why he reacted after all. This was just the cherry on the icing anyway, the future. . despite being surrounded by many people, you couldn't help but think that Aether was lonely, for he missed his sister who was always within out of reach.

"You, you know my name though, and about my sister. If you come from another world. . how do you know?"

You eyed Paimon and your pyro slime, "could you two leave us for a bit? how about you eat some fruits and pinecones." you suggested to the two with a smile. The two small companions stared at each other, and despite pouting and huffing, they obliged.

"I cannot say for now. I don't know how you'll react to it." You honestly confessed once the two were out of earshot. Would saying that he was in a world that was created to be a game destroy him? because he would realize that his and his sister's journey, separation and the loneliness was caused to be the premise of a game where he was to be controlled for entertainment. .

"However, all I can tell you, without bringing the world to destruction (with forbidden knowledge) is that I'm always on your side Aether, I have been with you since the beginning of your journey."

"beginning. . but" he clutched his head at a flurry of memories, he knew Paimon was the one there with him, ever since he fished her up. But then those memories slowed down, connecting with one another to be coherent.

"Alright, so now I have to fight the shogun to end the archon quest in Inazuma. ." there's a faint voice in the back of his head as he stood in the middle of Ei's throne room. The ashes of Signora laid on the tatami mats as the Shogun silently stood, waiting, or were they paused.

And just like usual, his body was covered in a faint golden glow, it was like he was stuck in a warm embrace as his body was being controlled. He pulled out his map, as his finger clicked on a waypoint to a domain.

"Since I got Ganyu, I should build her for the boss fight. Then I'll cook some recovery Items." A voice said, he couldn't quite tell where it came from. Because it felt like the voice was from everywhere and no where in particular, it was in his head, it was from above, then to his sides.

Suddenly he watched, while standing inside the Momiji-Dyed Court as the visages of Diluc, Xiangling and Diona appear beside him, all covered in that same glow. They two had been summoned by the voice. "Hello Traveler, it seems her divine excellency needs our assistance. Do you know who this is for?" Diluc asked, though his body could not move, he was able to speak.

"It's for Ganyu this time." Aether said as the man nodded in understanding.

"Aether!" he was pulled out of memories, finding himself on the ground with the others staring down at him worriedly. "I. . I remember."

"Remember what Aether?"

"This. . This has all happened before. But you where there, you were everywhere. Your voice, your guidance, you control us, control me as I travel to Liyue, then to Inazuma, then to Sumeru and Fontaine. But you also controlled other vision users!" he said, his voice had started off as slow and in awe but as he continued he spoke faster and quicker.

His face turned to one of awe and respect for her, because he remembered, not everything but enough to know, to know that the voice he had heard before was the same you now held. That your warmth was still there, though now withdrawn from the pains the others had caused you.

"You helped me."

"Ah. ."

Yet your face turned to a stark contrast from his own, instead of awe or happiness, you stared at him terrified.

. . .

Aether knew, he was beginning to become self-aware. You assumed he was talking about the times you controlled him to push forward the plot, to finish archon quests after archon quests. . You hoped he wouldn't utter those words, you were afraid of causing another incident similar to that of Sumeru's.

Seeing you look, he took a few deep breaths, placing his hands on top of your own as he sat up, once again your eyes met and he said softly, and with all the sincerity he had.

"Thank you."

Even though the world and time itself rewound, even if he lost all progress and has to go through all the nations again, still he can't forget about her help. Vaguely he could recall your commentary from different events, how you were silent when he died, and how you had been respectfully silent to mourn for his death. How you shouted and complained when his sister left him once more, when none of the first three archons could give him any concrete information. How you laughed when you chose to call Paimon an emergency food every now and then. How you shared his sentiments, wishing you didn't have to help everyone only for missing flyers to be your reward.

"hic. ."

You found yourself crying again, you knew the world was just a game, and you knew you only played it because of the food, and the visuals and for comfort at the beginning, but for you to get attached to the characters and the world, for you to painstakingly go through those annoying missions and dialogue, to build characters and pull for them. . .

to have Aether of all people to genuinely thank you, when he had gone through a lot of things (and he remembers) made you feel a sense of accomplishment, what you did wasn't useless. It wasn't for nothing.

Because if it were nothing, he wouldn't be thanking you, and shedding tears with you.

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡

"You guys are weird!" Paimon complained as she rubbed her swollen eyes, having shed a few tears to "Who shares a few words and suddenly bursts into tears anyways!"

You and Aether chuckled, walking once more as you offered to show him where and who you have been staying since nearly being killed by Lisa. "Make sure to not attack or scare them okay? The hilichurls are nice as long as you are too. Right?" You turned to the pyro slime who made a motion similar to that of a nod.

"I. . I see. I'll make sure to be on my best behavior." Aether said though seemingly he had begun to regret the idea when you were heading for a very huge hilichurl camp.

"Unu!" You hear someone shout, and they repeated as if spreading the word that you had returned. "Hi guys-" you said before gasping as a few hilichurls began to attack Paimon and Aether.

"What hey-!" you yelled stopping them, "Odomu, they are Odomu!" you quickly said pointing to them. "Odomu?" they hesitated, clearly suspicious of the two new comers who accompanied their God.

You nodded in confirmation, "This is Paimon, and that is Aether, whose hair you are still pulling." Huffing you approach, chiding the hilichurl who was pulling the blond's hair.

Pinching the bridge of your nose you repeated, first pointing at Paimon "Odomu Paimon. Odomu!"

"Odomu. ."

"Aether, Aether Odumu."

"Odomu. . ."

Then you smiled as they finally lowered there weapons, your hand stretched out, patting their heads like you would do for a child "Good. . Good job guys. Thank you for trying to protect me."

Despite the language barrier, seeing your soft expression, hearing your gentle voice and feeling the warmth form your touch alone. . they simpered.

"She makes Hilichurls look like docile puppies. ." Paimon couldn't help but comment as Aether silently nodded, his hand petting his frayed hair.

The hilichurls calmed down when they realized she had returned from a trip, pulling out the contents from her rucksack they slightly deflated from the lack of meat. Rolling your eyes playfully at their reactions you asked Aether for some help getting some Meat and Eggs which luckily he had in his inventory.

So as you managed to convince the Hilichurls to let you cook, you found yourself in the cooking area with Paimon, Aether and your Slime. The pyro slime returning to the dug out hole with ashes and wood.

"Oh I'll get some sticks and branches!" Paimon offered as she looked around the camp for materials to stoke the growing fire. "Anything you need help with?" Aether turned to you, realizing he was left with no tasks as Paimon and your slime were finally getting along swimmingly.

"Well can you fill the pails with water for me?"

He nodded "sure, that's easy." With the help of his map he was able to find the few ponds or rather water sources near the camp. After a couple of trips, he was now helping you wash the ingredients clean.

"So while Paimon and the Slime are busy, can you tell me what you know of this. ." you trailed off before bitterly spitting out ". . imposter and creator situation I got myself in?"

Aether begun slowly explaining while you both began preparing, he was tearing the cabbages as you were cutting the bitter gourds. "So first, there's this Divine Creator. In simpler ways to explain, they are higher than the archons, possibly Celestia. And they're considered the mother of all due to her caring and warm nature."

You nodded along, scooping out the inner contents of the bitter gourd or 'ampalaya' after having slicing the ampalayas into two. It was luckily you found wild ampalaya growing. "They think I am her or some cheap imposter then?"

"Yes, apparently imitating the Divine Creator is grounds for quick execution without trial." Aether said with a frown, one that mirrored your own. That was. . unfair. "Do they not understand a person is not born with the choice of how they look like?"

He didn't have an answer to that, whether the residents of Mondstadt were fanatic believers that didn't take the time to think about things logically or whether they were just. . dumb, well he wasn't sure. It was beyond him really, their thinking process that is.

"Anyways, Kaeya sent me here, he was a bit skeptical of how they handled the situation and quickly labelled you as an imposter. He told me how there is a prophecy, that well prophesized how an imposter, a demon or sign of catastrophe would come to Teyvat and cause disasters while wearing the face of the great Mother to smear their name and spite them."

"So me going to Teyvat when Dvalin was terrorizing the city as Mondstadt. . was just some bad timing for me. ." your frown had deepened. You were slowly becoming even more bitter as you held the knife tightly and begun to cut the ampalaya pieces into thinner slices.

"uhh" Aether wanted to get the knife away from you as you dangerously begun to cut the ampalaya in a quick and heavy pace due to your foul mood.

"so," your smile was icy "anything else I need to know about?"

"Jean, Lisa, Amber and the other knights are hunting you down since they haven't found your body in the lake. . ."

thump!

"c-can you give me the knife-?"

OMAKE

the hilichurls sadly stared at the food you had prepared for them, not much meat in sight. they even noticed you had prepared something with bitter gourds, which they knew would be very bitter.

Paimon and Aether were silently waiting as well for someone to eat first. The atmosphere was thick and they wondered if it would be rude for them to start eating now.

Meanwhile, Pyro was eating some sticks and pinecones, which burned into nothing inside their fiery stomachs. You sat near them, a smile on your face as you patiently waited for them to eat your cooking. Having noticed their eating tendencies, you realized that they ate more meat than vegetables. "Come on it tastes good, It's not going to be bitter I promise."

Ginisang Ampalaya was the dish you cooked, it was something you learned from one of your Filipino classmates. It had a mixed of ampalaya slices, eggs, tomatoes, some pork, and onions too. It would be nice to have some rice but even Aether hadn't been able to buy any.

"You need to eat your vegetables too." you told them. The samachurl who had also been silent, decided to take a bowl of the ampalaya, "Mosi gusha!" (eat vegetables!) it told the others who repeated in a more sad "mosi gusha. ." and thus they begun eating. But. .

"!" they stared at the meal, finding it to not be bitter as they had anticipated. They tasted the meat and the eggs more than the bitter gourds. and so they ate at a more happy pace.

Paimon and Aether followed, with Aether smiling "This is good, I didn't know you could cook something like this without a recipe!" You chuckled, cheeks flushed with the praise "It's no big deal, I learned that in school."

"Oh like a home economics class?" he briefly remembered a world like that, perhaps it was yours? "Kinda but more professional, its a cooking school so you can become a chef."

"A chef?! that settles it! come with us in our journey to find aether's sister!" Paimon said through a mouthful.

You all smiled and laughed as you talked, and suddenly you didn't feel so bitter anymore.

To help the readers in their long journey, I decided to give you a few functions! Nothing tooo op, but something very useful especially for travelers and chefs! You have your own inventory system (which is the same as the ingame one)! Of course shared with the traveler as you two are connected as the player and the vessel!

NAMING THE PYRO SLIME EVENT: ONE ACCOUNT IS ONLY ALLOWED TO SUGGEST AT MOST 2 NAMES (this applies to me)!

Current compiled suggestions: Fuji_Sen has suggested! Lava Cake or "Java" based on the food / coffee" Fuji_Sen has suggested! Monsieur Creme Brulee or "Creme" based on the food. @Fantasyhopperhea has suggested! Soleil or "Sol" @Cactus4226 has suggested! Ruru (Py-ro, ro -> ru -> ruru) @bunniotomia has suggested! Helios or "Hel"

taglist: @fantasyhopperhea @rhoswen-drake @cchiiwinkle @aman3kkun @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @bunniotomia @esthelily @earth-to-name @fandomfan-102

hopefully the tag works now, I've been having trouble with a few accounts since the tag wouldn't work on them. If you are not tagged successfully that means tumblr thinks you are a bot (because you don't have posts, or much interaction), you have been shadowbanned, or your visibility is set to prevent you from being tagged.

check here for more info.

[robinsfilm]

TOUNGE TIED

PAIRING: jason todd ✗ reader ;

SYNOPSIS: hidden away in a library, you bask in seeing that pink hue on jason's cheeks ;

ANON ASKED: " Reader teasing Jason over his blushing. You can decide whether they're in an established or pre-established relationship. " ;

WORD COUNT: 0.9k ;

NOTES: took a while to get this request done, not because the writing took some time, it was just because this is my first ever time getting actual requests, so i am all over the place with this. in this work reader and jason aren't in a relationship yet. thank you anon for the request <3 cross posted on my AO3.

♯ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION.

A SUBTLE TINGLING OF THE BELL SHIMMERED IN THE AIR. The old smell of book pages spreads through the small library. Its rusty brick outside, snuggled between two towering buildings, had caught Jason's eye during patrol a few days ago.

He contemplated asking you if you'd like to visit the little, small haven he had found. Every time the thought crossed his mind, a warm feeling spread through his body; his cheeks felt hot and his hands shaky.

Weird, but now that doesn't matter.

What matters is that somehow you both were in the doorway of the said library.

Your eyes darted around the room laid in front of you, curiosity obvious in your gaze. The library had truly had a homey, cozy feeling to it. Your hand grazed Jason's as you pointed out a decoration on the wall next to the two of you, though Jason's mind was preoccupied by the small touch of your hand on his.

Was it silly, he thought, that even a single graze had him tripping over his words?

The same warmth spreads through him now as it did then when he thought of ways to bring you here; what do I say to them? Should I label this as a date? Or is that too soon?

He remembers mentioning the small library when you piped up and suggested both of you visited the place.

“C’mon, Jaybeans! It’ll be fun. You and me.” You and me.

You took the words out of his mouth, literally. Answer, goddamn it!

“Yes!” he says, a bit too loud. You tilt your head, a smirk appearing on your face.

Oh, he wanted to wipe that smug grin off your face. With a kiss, preferably. You'd have a field day teasing him for that as well. He can’t really seem to mind; a kiss from you seems worth it.

He's forced to snap out of his daydream when he hears your melodic voice ring out in his ears.

“Earth to Jason,” you quip, not before raising a brow, “what's got you all quiet? You seem nervous.”

Goddamn you and how well you know him and his tells.

“Nothing,” he stammers as he answers, “now, let's go in.”

The warmth of the library makes both of you feel the unforgiving cold of the Gotham weather. The freezing hands hidden in pockets slowly peeking out, faces hiding under scarves poking out.

More accurately, his face pokes out from the scarf wrapped around him. Your scarf, he should add on that.

He almost stopped dead in his tracks when you turned to him and wrapped the fluffy, crocheted by hand scarf around him.

You scolded him about dressing appropriately for the weather. He should have been listening; god knows he hangs onto every word you say, but at that moment every sound was lost on him.

The saccharine-intoxicating smell of the fabric engulfed him wholly.

You eyed him a moment then, eyes squinting as if taking every detail of him, before you muttered just for him to hear.

“It looks good on you.”

Jason feels his cheeks grow hot—too hot, his palms grow sweaty. God, when did it get so hot?

The last thing he remembers seeing is your face breaking into a proud smile.

He hopes you won't ask for the scarf back, he thinks as he gathers both of your coats to set on the rack.

The book shelves fill the entire library so much that there's barely any space for the two of you. You don't seem to mind, he notes, as you drag him down the shelves, bodies close.

He runs his hand through his hair nervously, black and white steaks getting caught between his fingers. He has styled it. Did you notice, he thinks? Does he want you to notice?

Yes, he concludes, he does.

“Hm,” you hum, “I’ve been planning on reading Emma since you mentioned it.” You remembered that? He thinks as you look through the books to find your desired one.

‘If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.’

He remembers that single quote; it rings over in his mind repeatedly.

Get it together, Jason, he scolds himself.

“It has ‘the I-am-going-to-scoop-my-heart-out-with-a-spoon level romance of Pride & Prejudice’” he muses.

“It better not be like Mansfield Park,” you puff. “Jane, I'm not mad; I’m just disappointed.”

His laugh slipped out, low and warm. You take in the sight in front of you: his laugh; his smile, his eyes smiling alongside with it; the scrunching of his nose.

It’s truly a heavenly sight.

Oh, only if you could tell him.

“You should laugh more,” you simply say. It’ll do for now; it’ll do until he gives you the okay, the okay to tell him all of it.

You'll bask in his blushes and stutters as he tries to gather his thoughts.

“What?”

“You should laugh more,” you contemplate for a second, “and blush more.”

“You—” he huffs, “just get the book.” He tries to turn his head away from you, though the red on the tip of his ears is telling you all you need to know.

You'll wait; he'll wait as well.

Because all of this is worth the wait.

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[respectthepetty]

The Loyal Pin - Episode 8

¡Sorpresa, cabronas! Blue Beauty Anin is back in the palace, and she is already causing issues for her color-coded brothers!

And for her Pink Person Pin!

So as much as I appreciate Anin being so focused on her studies, because she wanted to graduate early, I'm glad Pin called her out for not communicating and thinking this surprise would make her forget that she was basically ignored FOR MONTHS!

But thankfully Anin knows how to make it up to her (in bed) (THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!)

And now they can be color-coded girls in love and live happily ever after! Yes? YES!

Well, that's until Anin's color-coded brothers tell her she needs to start thinking about getting married . . . to a man.

But because this a GL, like queer magic, all the girls start showing up to Anin's yard for her milkshake like her sister-in-law with her sister, who just happens to be the girl who tried to assault Anin in her bed.

But nobody cares because Anin's color-coded brother and aunt (WHO IS WEARING PURPLE!) are planning a formal welcome back party for Anin which will literally bring all the girls to her yard for her milkshake (and other treats).

Anin is less than thrilled believing this is a ploy to get her to meet marriage prospects, but her brother promises that isn't what is happening.

All color-coded royals do is lie.

But our boy Pranot is going to make this party spectacular even if he has to hot glue and duct tape everything together by himself, and this is not me stereotyping the gays, but . . . . . . he has to be gay because only a gay man or a pageant mom could turn it out like this with such short notice.

So Pranot creates a party fit for color-coded royals overnight.

And the aunt, who is in her color (finally!) has the food covered.

But she can't stay, because she has a guest, in her house, waiting for her. *whispers* lesbian shenanigans are afoot

And to nobody's surprise, marriage prospects are at this party and lined up IN RED to greet our Blue Beauty. I know Pranot sent them a detailed document outlining the dress code, so if they were paying any attention, they would've known to wear BLUE to impress the princess and not RED to impress her siblings. Who do they want to marry?! Apparently not our lesbian!

Then Aon shows up looking like her and her sister thought this was a costume party and they are an orange and a cherry, which means the only time we have seen Aon is pink is when she was trying to slide into Anin's bed, and now she is on my list!

Sidenote: Is the brother's fiancée May from My Marvellous Dream is You and The Sign?! How did I miss that?! Obviously the outfit is doing it's job because it made me notice her in a room full of other beautiful women, so I'll quit hating on these fruity outfits now.

Actually, I won't because it's clear to me the two oranges from the orange tree belong together, so if Kuea really doesn't care about marrying a lesbian since he wants to Pin so badly, why not just marry another lesbian named Aon? Makes color-coded sense to me!

But then there is the issue of my babygirl Ueangfah who also showed up to Anin's yard party for her milkshake.

But I think I have someone for her too! It's not a color-coded match, but it could be a lavender marriage!

The queers have been doing it for centuries. Just getting married and throwing amazing garden parties. Fun times!

But Anin, in her pretty blue dress had too much fun being possessive of Pin because she was getting a little unwanted attention from a man when ALL OF THESE WOMEN WERE BASICALLY HAND-FEEDING ANIN FOOD AND THEIR BODIES ALL NIGHT! (I'm a little peeved at Anin, pero whatevs). So Pin, in her lovely purple and pink dress, has to drag her girlfriend home which is luckily across the lawn.

And because Anin is westernized now, she is white girl wasted, meaning she wants to make out with her girl anywhere and everywhere because eff decorum!

So Pin has to tie her up with a blue piece of fabric. (Where did this come from?!)

But it isn't for safety reasons. No! It's for ~kinky~ reasons.

And in the midst of some delightful girl-on-girl action, we get the rudest flashback to Anin's older brother checking on Anin since he was worried about her drinking, yet stumbling upon her exchanging colors and tongues with Pin, you know, like the French do.

So the episode ends with him finally realizing the big secret that everyone has been keeping from him including the servants -

He was the only straight person at that party tonight.