#of course we respect boundaries in this house!!!

[spiders-in-the-valley]

He dreads to think too much about it...

[sleepykas]

Angsty prompt (I swear is my last one): waiting for YN to come back, and just... waiting. No word, no explanation, no news, just waiting.

(might write something for this one if you do, maybe, I feel like carving out my heart apparently)

"I'll be right back, stay put."

Funny how empty those words felt now.

[joelscruff]

truth or dare (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

notification blog | kofi | in honor of my bestie han @swiftispunk who recently celebrated her birthday (and in honor of spooky season starting 🎃) i thought i'd step outside the boundaries of what i usually write and try something new. i'd also like to give a huge shoutout to @toxicanonymity whose entire masterlist greatly influenced my desire to try something like this. please heed the warnings!!! and as i said this is my first time writing anything like this so pls be kind 🫠

summary: a harmless game of truth or dare ends with you tied up in a certain mysterious neighbor's garage. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: dubcon (reader is given a choice to leave, but not immediately), dark!joel, age gap (reader is college age, joel is in his fifties), unprotected p in v sex, use of restraints, ropes, spanking, degradation, sir kink, dirty talk (use of 'little girl' as a pet name), face fucking, rough sex, creampie, brief anal play, humiliation, inappropriate use of a household item (he puts a flashlight up her cooch), marking (with a sharpie), size kink (joel is much bigger than reader and can lift her), pls lemme know if i forgot anything word count: 8.3k

Your palms are sweaty, fingers sticking to your skin as you stand at the edge of the property with goosebumps already blooming along your flesh. The air is chilly, that end of summer evening air flooding your nostrils as a car drives past through streams of leftover rainwater, headlights blurring your vision for a moment. It passes quickly and you're alone again, standing on the street corner with a mixture of anticipation and dread filling your trembling body.

Everything had been fine about twenty minutes ago. A typical party with your hometown friends, one last hurrah before everyone splits off for the third year in a row to go back to their respective colleges, back to long lectures and underwhelming frat boys. It had gone the same way it always does when you get together - shots, secrets, schemes. No end of summer party could ever be complete without a game of truth or dare, not for your crowd anyway.

It had started simple. "Which one of us had the best glow-up this year?" "I dare you to text the last guy you slept with." "What's the kinkiest thing you've done with somebody?" "I dare you to show us the last nude someone sent you." Typical borderline adolescent challenges, things you all still followed through with despite being too old for the game - it's the principle of it, to indulge and pretend, if only for a little while, that life is as simple as it once was.

"Who's the last person you had a sex dream about?"

You'd twisted your hands awkwardly in your lap, felt heat rush to the apples of your cheeks. Usually a question like this wouldn't make you hesitate, but the subject of the answer had been a slightly embarrassing one. As soon as the name Joel Miller had fallen from your lips, you'd been met with screams and squeals and excited chatter from every direction.

"He's so fucking creepy though," one of your friends had said with wide eyes, palm over her mouth, "He gives off serial killer vibes."

"Oh please, he's not that bad," another had chimed in, "He's just a loner, kinda mysterious. I see the vision."

"Are we forgetting the part where he's old as hell? Dude must be in his fifties, at least."

"But that means experience."

"It could also mean limp dick."

"You guys are disgusting," you'd moaned, leaning back on your hands, "It was one dream, let's move on."

And they had. Briefly. Until it was once again your turn and they'd all rounded on you with cheshire cat grins and glinting stares. You should have known what was coming when you chose Dare.

"I dare you to go over to his house."

You'd resisted, of course. The dare itself didn't even make much sense; what were you meant to do? Go over and ding-dong-ditch his front door like a twelve year old boy? But it had only snowballed from there, all five girls tossing in their own thoughts and ideas, talking and giggling over each other. "She should ask him on a date." "She should just flirt a little bit, see how he reacts." "She could see how far she can get with him, maybe?" "Oh shit, that's good."

You could have always said no - there was no way any of them could force you to do it, even if it would have ended the party abruptly with grumbled complaints and a slammed door. But the more they talked the more you found yourself listening, letting the concept sink in, the images of the dream you'd had the other night flooding to the front of your mind. Mysterious and elusive Joel Miller, big hands covered in the motor oil he uses to tinker with his truck, trailing his messy fingers between the swells of your breasts...

They'd managed to convince you just by the reminder alone, though also due to the fact that they'd each tossed in a twenty dollar bill and stated that simply getting a kiss on the cheek would warrant a win. The prospect was intriguing; it would be a testament to your own desirability, your game. How far can you get with your quiet neighbor who probably hasn't touched a woman in years? Who'll probably fold the second he realizes someone as young and beautiful as you is interested in him?

"I'll do it," you'd said with a smirk, rising from the hardwood, "How hard can it be?"

Harder than you thought, apparently. Because now you stand a few feet from Joel Miller's house, loitering soundlessly at the edge of his front lawn, hesitating. The sun has gone down, turning the hedges along the side of his property into frighteningly tall shadows, dark and menacing. A light breeze flows past and you wrap yourself tighter in your well-worn maroon cardigan, shivering, staring at your boots and wondering if you can really bring yourself to do this.

It'll be so humiliating if he rejects your advances. On the other hand, will it somehow be less-so if he returns your flirtatiousness and you then have to reject him once you've gotten what you came for? How will that make you look? You're not even really sure why you care - probably because the man has done nothing to you whatsoever, nothing that would warrant such a foolish prank as this being played on him. It makes you feel bad, in a way. As much as you and your friends make fun of him, he really is just a man who keeps to himself - perhaps this is going too far.

You notice light flickering nearby, a reflection of fluorescents in the puddles of his driveway. You figured he'd be in his garage - it's where he spends most of his time, bent over the exposed hood of the truck he's seemingly been working on ever since he moved in at the beginning of the summer. You've never seen him drive it, never even seen him leave the property, but you've passed by the house on more than one occasion. You've seen the way he rolls up the sleeves of his flannel, forearms splattered black and grey, expression focused on the task at hand while sweat drips from his greying temples.

Having a sex dream about him really shouldn't have been that shocking, now that you think about it. The man is a mystery, sure, but he isn't ugly by any means.

You swallow down your qualms, picturing the faces of your friends more than likely smooshed against the living room window a few houses back, watching. As soon as you turn the corner, you'll disappear from view, obstructed by the hedges and the sudden darkness of night. You take one more deep breath, one last burst of chilly evening air into your lungs, and accept your fate.

--

He doesn't notice you walking up his driveway, taking slow and meager steps as you assess the open garage, the truck with its hood popped as usual, the flickering of the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling. He doesn't notice you, but you notice him. You spot a pair of steel toed boots and long denim clad legs sticking out from underneath the truck, hear the clink and clang of metal against metal while he tinkers with something down there, unseen. As you reach the garage it becomes apparent that you still have one last chance to end this before it begins, turn around and take the loss.

But you don't.

"Excuse me," you offer in a weak voice, teetering nervously at the edge of the garage door, neither inside nor out - neutral ground.

The clinking stops, replaced by the steady pounding of your heart in your chest, the heaviness of your breathing. You try to loosen your hands from their fisted forms and unclench your fingers, focusing on the stretch of flesh and bone while the legs beneath the car slowly begin to inch forward. He's not laying on any type of support, one of those wheeled contraptions you've seen other people use - no, he's simply got his back to the ground, a back and body that's slowly coming into view.

His black and green flannel rides up where he's been laying on it, as well as the grey t-shirt he wears beneath; as he slides out from under the car you spot a bare sliver of skin just above his waistband, a patch of hair that trails down into his jeans. A lump forms in your throat. When he finally peeks his head out, you swallow around it and try to remember to breathe.

Greying hair slicked back behind his ears, cheekbones smeared slightly with something black, scruff lining a strong yet soft jawline, a plump bottom lip, and those eyes... dark brown, almost black. It's the face that's practically been haunting you all summer, whether you want to admit it to yourself or not.

His brow furrows as soon as he sees you, "Can I help you?"

It's not the first time you've heard him talk, but it's certainly the first time he's ever spoken directly to you. His accent is stronger than you remember, words slipping smoothly past his lips like butter as he eyes you from the floor of his garage, knees up, hands still hidden in the darkness. A few seconds pass before you realize he's asked you a question.

"Oh, um-" You haven't thought this through very far, that's for sure. What the fuck do you even say? You take a breath and remind yourself that you're good at this, have seduced your fair share of frat boys in the past two years with minimal effort and have never heard the word no. Sure, Joel Miller isn't a frat boy - far from it - but underneath his cold exterior he's still very much a man, and very much capable of falling under the spell of a beautiful woman. You hope, anyway.

"I was just taking a walk," you lie, "Saw your light on, thought I'd come say hi."

He stares at you blankly, like he's unsure exactly how he's supposed to respond - or perhaps he's already seeing through your façade. You take a step into his garage, poised at the edge as you lean casually against the opening.

"Honestly, um-" you push some hair behind your ear and attempt to look shy, though it's not a huge jump from how you're actually feeling, "I've been meaning to talk to you, before I go back to college."

At your words he raises an eyebrow and slowly brings his hands downwards, palms pressing flat against the dark concrete. You watch as he eases himself up and out from under the truck, and god he's tall - tall and broad and huge compared to you, a fact that sends a little flutter into your belly. He takes a step toward the work bench against the wall, eyes still on you as he reaches down and picks up a rag to wipe his hands, big and wide and streaked with oil. You remember your dream and feel a twinge in your underwear.

"Talk to me about what?" he asks, massaging the rag against his fingers.

You shrug as nonchalantly as you can, taking another step inside his garage, closer to where he stands at the work bench. You cross your legs in an attempt to show them off, stretching your ankle toward a spare tire on the floor and accentuating the sheerness of your black tights, the little run that splits the material at the inside of your knee, the hint of bare skin that peeks out beneath.

"Nothing in particular," you say, keeping your voice soft and steady but doing your best to keep that shy girlishness present, "Just... wanted to." You peer up at him from under your lashes and bite your lip, then reach out your hand for him to take. You say your name.

He assesses your hand but doesn't take it, brow still furrowed. "Joel," he replies, "And I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment. Don't really have time to talk." His voice is cold and gruff, absolutely no sign of interest or attraction - dammit.

"What're you doing?" you ask, tilting your head.

He continues to stare at you blankly, "What does it look like I'm doin'?"

Okaaaay, then.

You shrug again and take another step, turning to look at the wall next to you. Tools line the shelves, wrenches and screwdrivers and the like dangling rather precariously here and there, smeared in motor oil and dust. It's a mess but you'd be willing to bet that it's organized chaos, that he likes it this way.

"What's this?" you ask, pointing to a particularly large object, something that looks like a mixture between a pair of scissors and a wrench.

"Bolt cutters," he supplies you monotonously.

"Ohh," you say with a nod, leaning a bit into the confused pretty girl stereotype and hoping maybe he's a sucker for it, "And what's that?" You point toward a small cylindrical object, black and tactical, only a few inches long.

"You never seen a flashlight before?"

Oh. Right. "Woops," you giggle, "Sorry."

You turn your face to look at him sheepishly and he's still watching you, big arms now crossed against his broad chest - impatient. Well, this is clearly not working either. He's frowning, eyes so focused on your face that you feel almost naked beneath it, like he's staring into your soul. You clear your throat awkwardly and tug your bottom lip between your teeth, breaking your own gaze away from him and trying to find something else to comment on.

"So you've been working on your truck," you state, gesturing toward the vehicle as if only just noticing it was even there, "What's - uh - what's wrong with it?"

He's clearly not buying into whatever the fuck you're even trying to sell. He remains silent, eyes still on you, and suddenly it's like you've never even interacted with a man before - and to be honest, maybe you haven't. Frat boys are certainly not men by any means, and nowhere near in the same league as Joel Miller by a long shot, probably almost triple their age with a dark and mysterious aura that feels almost suffocating. He just stares at you, slightly unnerving, but also seductive in its own way, almost like he's challenging you.

"What do you want?" he asks blankly.

"I-I told you," your voice is already faltering, losing its flirtatious edge the more you realize how dumb of an idea this was, "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Yeah, I got that," he says stiffly, "Why?"

You've already exhausted the avenues you thought might work, which means you've got one last chance before he sends you packing. With bated breath you take the final few steps toward him and - averting your gaze - you reach your hand out to touch his forearm with your fingertips. It's feather light, but you're suddenly very aware of the goosebumps that rise on his freckled flesh, the way the thick hair on his arms seems to stand on end the second your skin touches his. Okay, now we're getting somewhere.

"I think you're handsome," you murmur softly, feeling warmth rush to your cheeks when you realize that it's not a lie. And it really isn't. As your gaze gradually tilts up you catch a glimpse of the hair on his chest, peeking out from under his grey t-shirt. You spot his pecs beneath the fabric of his flannel, see the throbbing veins in his neck, the coarseness of his scruff, the sharp curve of his nose, and those fucking eyes - looking at you with a darkness, a lust, that wasn't there before.

He's not just handsome; he's fucking gorgeous.

"What're you doin'?" he asks you, that gruffness still present but being taken over by something else, something darker.

"Nothing," you breathe, still trailing your fingers along his forearm until they reach its apex and dip into the soft part behind his elbow, damp with sweat. You swallow, throat going dry as you stroke his skin with your thumb.

"Doesn't feel like nothin'," his voice is quieter, matching yours, and he tilts his head slightly as he continues to stare into your eyes, "Why're you really here, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart. The word sends a burst of warmth to your chest, a smile to your lips. You unlock your eyes from his bashfully, watching your own movements as you trail your fingers back down toward his hand and wrap them around one of his fingers, so thick compared to your own. You squeeze gently, biting your lip again as you peer back up at him. Here it is. Moment of truth. You tilt your head up slightly, eyelashes fluttering as you lean forward to connect your lips with his.

Except, they don't connect.

Instead he pulls his hands away from you, brings them upwards and wraps them around your upper arms, squeezing tightly. Your eyes widen, confusion flooding your features.

"Turn around and bend over."

"W-what?" Shock doesn't even begin to describe the ice cold feeling that now makes its way through your body, edged with something else - something you can't explain.

"Turn around," he repeats, his big hands squeezing your arms even tighter - relentless, firm - as he peers down at you with a dark hunger in his eyes, glinting black beneath the fluorescents, "And bend over."

He does not give you another chance to obey - you're too frozen in surprise and confusion to do anything yourself. Instead, he uses the force of his weight on your arms to spin you on the spot, shoving you against the work bench. You feel one of his hands move from your arm to your back, pushing hard until you fold, warm cheek coming to rest against the cold wood.

"Wh-what are you doing?" your voice is meager, weak, and you feel him wrap one of his hands around both your wrists like it's nothing, pinning them against your back like they're simply twigs in his wide palm.

"What you're clearly fuckin' beggin' for," he replies gruffly, and you feel his other hand at your skirt, feel the brush of his fingertips at the hem as he reaches upward to grip the band of your tights. Your eyes widen and instinctively you pull back, pull away - he just pushes you back down.

"I'm not-" you begin, shock quickly being replaced with fear when you realize how easily overpowered you are, how fluidly he's able to tug down your tights and expose your ass to him, clad in only a black thong already lost between your cheeks.

"Oh, you're not, huh?" his voice is cold and stoic, angry, "You think you can play games with me, little girl?" His hand comes to rest against the swell of your behind and you suddenly feel his breath above you, hot in your ear, "Tell me why you're really here."

You try to lift your head up to look at him better but he just shoves you back down again. Panic floods your body, mixed with the unmistakable burn of arousal. You feel yourself twitch in your underwear, feel a sudden gush of warmth spill inside the fabric as he begins to trail his finger up and down the thin line of black cotton.

"I-I'm..." You're at a complete loss for words, unable to articulate anything, unsure of what exactly is happening - or about to happen. Two minutes ago you'd been sure he was about to tell you to leave, practically kick you out of the garage himself, and now you're not sure leaving is even a possibility.

He pulls his hand back and you cry out when it comes down to slap against one of your cheeks, a sharp sting and burn you hadn't been anticipating.

"Tell me why you're here," he repeats - authoritarian, firm.

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out except a frightened squeak, something which clearly eggs him on even more. He spanks you again, harder this time, palm flat and wide against your pebbled flesh. The sound that slips past your lips is somehow akin to a moan of some sort, guttural and deep.

"I'll just make it harder and harder, sweetheart," he says then, and the pet name no longer contains the warmth it did mere moments ago; instead it's cold and detached, mocking. You're still reeling when his hand comes down to slap against you again, even harder this time, and your hands ball into fists behind your back as you let out another low moan. More slick gushes into your panties and it's impossible to deny that somehow, despite the fear twinging in your heart, you're so fucking turned on.

"M-my friends," you gasp out, and you feel him squeeze your abused ass cheek which you're sure is already dark with his handprint, "They- they dared me to see how far I c-could get with you."

He lets your words sink in for a moment, squeezing again - tighter, so tight that it hurts. You whimper against the wooden top of the work bench, legs shaking.

"So you came here to get fucked," he finally states.

"N-no, I swear, I-"

"Wasn't a question," he interrupts, and you feel his other hand tighten around your wrists, "You came here to get fucked so you're gonna get fucked, end of story."

"But I-"

Without any warning he suddenly pushes himself up against you from behind, the rough denim of his jeans pressing deliciously up against your exposed skin. You gasp, eyes going wide when you feel the long, thick shape of his dick between your cheeks, huge and hard. He holds it there, his free hand coming down to lay flat beside your head against the work bench.

"You feel that?" he asks, voice suddenly quieter but still full of that ice cold malice, "You feel that cock?"

Fuck. "Y-yes," you breathe, "I feel it."

"You have five seconds before i close this door and stuff you full, understand?" Suddenly all you can hear is the heavy sound of his breathing, the panting of your own, the thud of your heart where it presses painfully against the wood. He's giving you an out.

"I- I-" you swallow, brows furrowing when you feel his hand slacken around your wrists. You could pull away now, yank yourself out of his grasp and sprint down his driveway, return to your friends. Forget this ever even happened.

It's your last chance.

"Five," he begins, breath warm against your face.

Run. Just run.

"Four."

But why?

"Three."

Why don't you want to run?

"Two."

Why do you want to stay?

"One."

He pulls his hand up from the work bench and hits a button on the wall, eliciting a loud mechanical noise to your left as the garage door starts to close. You watch with wide eyes as your chance to leave slowly vanishes inch by inch until it's gone completely, and yet no part of you itches to run, to escape. There's nothing to escape from, you realize. You want to be here. You want him to fuck you.

As the reality of your situation starts to settle, his grip around your wrists tightens once again. You sense him reaching up somewhere above you, and you suddenly feel the harsh texture of what feels like thickly braided rope wrapping around your wrists. The realization that he's restraining you sends another pool of release into your panties, another faint squeak past your lips.

"You gonna stay still for me?" he asks, voice dark and clearer now in the silence of his garage, no sounds of rain or cars to disrupt you, "Huh? You gonna be a good girl?"

"Yes," you breathe, nodding against the wood.

"Say it."

"I'm gonna stay still," you promise, "I'm gonna be a good girl."

He finishes knotting the rope around your wrists, tight and uncomfortable against your skin. He pushes his groin up against your ass again, brings his now free hands downward to reach through your cardigan and squeeze your breasts. Your nipples are hard beneath the soft cotton of your shirt, no bra between the layer of material and your bare skin; he tweaks them in his fingers and you shudder.

"These are mine," he whispers in your ear, scruff nuzzling against the side of your face, "These tits, this ass," he drops his hands from your breasts to squeeze your cheeks again, "and this pussy." His hand drops to the puffy shape of your lips beneath your thong and you whimper. "Understand?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes, what?"

You're not sure what he's asking for, what he wants you to say. You take a guess. "Yes, sir," you whisper, and you feel him smile against your ear. Bingo.

He doesn't bother to pull your tights down the rest of the way; instead, he rips them, pulling them apart in his big hands and reaching inside to curl his index finger around the thin strip of your thong. He pulls it - hard - and it rips from you with a rough tearing sound and a painful sting, eliciting a loud gasp from you which he rewards with another spank.

You feel his finger slip between your lips for a moment, gathering some of your release before he pulls it away. "Juicy fuckin' pussy," he mutters, and you hear the sound of his zipper coming undone, vulgar in the quiet room. You have no time to ask about protection, no time to even really process how quickly this is already happening, before you feel the warm tip of his cock pushing against your twitching hole. You gasp again, hands furling under the ropes.

"Shh," he quiets you, stilling for a second, "Don't squirm."

"Sorry," you whisper, tears pricking in your eyes, "I'm sorry."

"What're you sorry for?" he murmurs, feeding his cock to you in small increments, reveling in the noises falling past your lips. It's so fucking big, bigger than you'd anticipated - it feels like he's spearing you, splitting you in half, especially without much preparation. It stretches and burns, but the warmth of it, the way it pulses as it invades your body, just makes you gush even more. "Hm?" he continues, "What're you sorry for? You sorry for squirmin' or sorry you pissed me off?"

Your eyes roll back as he bottoms out, his pubic hair pressing coarsely against your pussy lips, heavy balls firm to your ass. You try to speak but it's hard to get the words out when you're so full, the wide tip of him pushing into your cervix.

"You a virgin?" he asks you then, voice changing for a moment, like for the briefest of seconds he's wondering whether he should have gone slower.

You shake your head quickly, "N-no," you manage to gasp out.

"Feel like a fuckin' virgin," he grunts, pulling out and then immediately slamming back inside. Your head bumps against the work bench, a groan falling from your mouth as he makes a home inside you. "Christ," he mutters, "Tight little thing. You feel me in your stomach, baby?"

You're not sure he wants you to answer, but it becomes clear when his hand slaps down on your ass cheek again and you cry out.

"Yes," you moan, then quickly amend, "Yes, sir."

"S'what happens when you come in here, actin' like a little slut," he suddenly reaches for your cardigan and yanks it off - it catches on your restrained hands and he simply rips it and tosses it to the floor, "But then again, you're not actin', are you? Huh? What's a slut like you doin' wearin' all these fuckin' layers?"

"I'm s-sorry," you repeat, already mourning the loss of your favorite sweater, now ripped to shreds at your feet.

"Sorry's not good enough, little girl," he breathes, thrusting into you again so hard that you yelp, cheek still pressed into the splintered wood of the work bench, "That's it, fuckin' take it."

He fucks you without any reservations, any inhibitions. Your legs shake and you can hear the slap of his hairy thighs against yours as he pounds into you relentlessly. You have no choice but to take it, the stretch of his huge cock becoming less painful the more he gives it to you over and over, the room full of the wet squelch of your pussy gripping him. He grabs your hips, fingertips digging into your bare flesh as he takes and takes; you wish you could see his face, wish you could see how he looks when he's fucking you, getting his pleasure. The thought makes you whine, tears streaming down your face as your body moves back and forth against the work bench.

It feels fucking amazing. You've never had a cock as big as his before, never been fucked so deep and so hard, like he doesn't care if he breaks you, makes you cry. He hasn't touched your clit and yet you already feel you could come from just this, just the relentless push and pull of his dick inside you. Unfortunately, just as soon as you feel your orgasm starting to build, he pulls out. Your brow furrows.

"Stand up," he orders, "and turn around."

You obey, relief overtaking you as soon as you're no longer bent at such an awkward angle. The moment you turn to face him you barely get a look at his face before he's reaching down and tearing your shirt in half - easily, like it's nothing. You don't even have time to wonder how the hell you're gonna get home with all your clothes ripped to shreds when his mouth is suddenly wrapped around your left nipple, and you whine at the sensation. You peer down at him, biting your lip and watching his wet lips suckle around the hard bud, beard scratching deliciously against your skin. Your hand aches to cup the back of his head but it's still pinned behind your back, tied tight beneath the rope.

"Fuck," you whimper, and his dark gaze flashes up to meet yours as he sucks, the hint of a smirk on his lips when he pulls away.

"Feels good, does it?" he asks, and seeing the words come out of his mouth is somehow more sinful than when you could only hear them, "You like bein' used?"

You nod almost immediately despite never having experienced anything like this in your life - though admittedly you've undeniably wanted to experience this, ached to have somebody take control, tell you what to do, make you do things. It's like you've somehow known subconsciously all summer that Joel Miller could be that person for you, despite never having said two words to him. It was just a feeling, an instinct, and that dream...

"Yeah?" he continues, and suddenly his hand comes up to cup your pussy, thumb finally pressing against your clit. You cry out, tears still trickling down your cheeks. "Said you were in college, right? You take any college dick up here? Be honest now."

You nod again, "Y-yes."

"How many?"

"I... I don't know," you breathe. It's the truth, and you can tell as soon as the words leave your mouth that it does something to him. He presses his thumb harder against your clit, two fingers slipping up inside of you.

"'Course you don't know," he murmurs, pushing them as deep inside as he can, making you whimper, "You wouldn't know, would you?"

Your thighs tighten together - squeezing his hand - and he just smirks again, curving his fingers and making you moan. Your lower back digs into the work bench as he stands, pushes you up against it and peers down into your eyes again with a hunger that's only getting worse. You assess his expression, the pout of his lips as he fucks you with his fingers, the focused lines creased into his forehead. So fucking handsome.

"You're not a good girl," he breathes, nose brushing yours, "Knew it from the day I saw you. You're just made for takin' cock. Am I right?"

"Yes," you whisper, nodding shakily and bumping your lips up toward his - he pulls away again and you can't help but feel disappointed, aching to feel his lips against yours.

"Tonight you're made to take my cock, that clear?" he continues, and you watch as his other hand travels downward to wrap around it - just out of your periphery. He's too close to you, crowded so much in your space that you know he won't like it if you break eye contact. You can tell by his arm movements that he's pumping himself at the same speed he's fucking you with his fingers, inhaling deeply, "I'm gonna ruin you, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not."

"Y-yes sir," you whisper, voice squeaking when he speeds up his fingers and pumps them in and out with fervor, thumb rubbing furiously against your clit. Yet again he brings you almost to the edge and then removes his hand completely, stepping back with a low chuckle when you whimper pathetically.

Your disappointment only lasts a moment because now you can see him, see the girthy length of him that's already been inside of you hanging out of his zipper, glistening with your slick. He's huge, tip dark and intrusive, beads of his own arousal dripping from the slit; your mouth waters. His eyes cast down to where you're looking and he smiles, dark and mocking.

"Never gonna see another dick like this, darlin'," he breathes, "So you better start showin' your appreciation." His eyes glint. "Kneel."

You're practically already on your way to kneeling before he says it, in awe of the sheer girth and shape of him. The second your bare knees hit the cold floor he's crowding you again, hand coming around to hold the back of your head.

"Open wide, baby," he murmurs.

Your jaw drops and he plunges inside your mouth quickly and seamlessly, making you gasp around his length as your eyes widen. You can't breathe, looking up at him with more tears already fogging your vision as he immediately slips into the depths of your throat with no hesitation. You gag, eyes bulging as you attempt to swallow around the intrusion, find your breath, but it's impossible.

"Yeah," he breathes, both of his hands cradling your face and holding you still as he lets his cock sit unmoving in your throat, "Yeah, that's it. That's what you're made for."

He only holds it there for a few seconds but by the time he pulls it out you're gasping for air, coughing and spluttering as tears stream relentlessly down your cheeks. He keeps cradling your face, tuts to himself as you try to get your breath back. The head of his cock bumps softly against your bottom lip.

"Not off to a great start, are we?" he murmurs, "Let's try again."

He pushes his cock past your lips again and you try your hardest not to gag, a little more prepared this time. The pulsing head of his cock situates itself firmly in your throat, the pubic hair at the base tickling your nose while his balls bounce against your chin. You look up at him with pleading eyes, watch as he stares down at you with nothing but malice in his expression, contempt. You're just a hole to him, nothing more.

He pulls out and lets you gasp another breath before he's shoving himself back in, hands moving back to hold your head firmly as he fucks your face. You don't move - you don't need to; he does all the work as he drags your head back and forth along his cock, hitting the back of your throat over and over again until you're gagging and practically sobbing for air. Your knees ache against the concrete floor and you know you'll have bruises tomorrow, know that you probably won't be able to swallow properly for a few days either. Somehow, you don't really care.

When he's gotten his fill he yanks himself out and allows you to catch your breath for a few seconds, throat constricting around nothing while you choke and gasp.

"Stand up," he orders, and even though you're still gasping for air you manage to bring yourself back up, legs shaking. Saliva drips down your chin, drooling from your mouth in long strands, but with your hands tied you can't make any attempt to clean yourself up - he probably wouldn't want you to anyway.

His wide palms are suddenly on your hips, and he picks you up and places you on top of the work bench with minimal effort, arms bulging. You're completely naked now save for your ripped tights while he's still fully clothed, dripping cock still peeking out past his zipper, covered in your saliva. He steps between your legs and pushes your thighs open, then slips inside of you once again in one short push, making you yelp.

"Oh, please," he grumbles, gripping your hips tightly and pulling your bare body taut against him, head hitting his chest, "We both know you can take it."

It's not like you have any other choice at this point. He fucks you harder than he had before, now that he has easier access, can pull you so firmly against him that his entire length is continuously swallowed up entirely by your dripping pussy. His nails dig into your skin as his cock fucks up against your cervix over and over, so relentless it's almost painful. It's overwhelming how huge he is, not just his cock but his body in general, the way he towers over you and watches your expressions as he takes what's now his.

"Poor little thing," he mumbles, bringing one of his hands up to thumb the tears on your face, "Never been so full, huh? It's okay, shhh," his finger finds your lips and pushes against them almost mockingly, like he's chastising you, "Shhh, this is what you asked for, remember? S'what you wanted." You shake your head but he just nods, "Yeah, it is. You wanted that cock and now you're gettin' it."

Suddenly you're being lifted from the workbench, carried in his embrace with his cock still buried deep inside. You cry out, wrists straining against the ropes, itching to wrap your arms around his neck and hold yourself up with more stability. His arms come up to stretch along the expanse of your back, holding you still and pulling you even closer. As if on instinct your legs bend upwards to wrap around his waist, curling around his lower back while he pistons inside of you without restraint, without mercy.

"Fuck," you almost scream, feeling the rough denim of his jeans scratching against your ass, the heaviness of his balls slapping against you over and over again, "Fuckfuckfuck!"

"Yeah, there she is, there's that little slut," he says, a smile spreading across his face, voice somehow calm despite the fact that he's pounding into you over and over, "Nothin' like gettin' fucked stupid to sort ya out, huh? Needed to be punished, didn't you, sweetheart?"

You don't answer, can't answer, eyes rolling back as he fucks you with abandon. Of course it's not a surprise when he lands a hard spank against your ass, grips your cheek tightly in his palm and growls roughly in your ear, "Answer me, little girl."

"Yes," you force yourself to gasp out, head tilting back, "Yes sir, yes."

"S'right," he mutters, and you suddenly feel the pads of his fingers against your clit, rubbing at an aggressively fast pace that sends depraved noises spitting past your lips, "Come on that cock, tighten up that little pussy even more for me, baby, come on."

It only takes seconds for him to make you come, your eyes rolling back as your body shakes and writhes in his grasp. He doesn't slow his movements, keeps fucking you deep and hard as your legs loosen at his waist and you flop like a ragdoll in his arms.

"Chokin' that dick," he murmurs, "Had so many cocks in this little hole and you're still the tightest thing I've fucked," his brow furrows as he watches your face, watches as your eyes flutter open and your jaw slackens, "And what about your other hole, baby?" You feel one of his fingers prod against your asshole, circle the rim as he continues to bounce you up and down, "Ever had a cock in there?"

You tense up a little in his embrace, eyes widening. At your reaction he slows his movements, still holding you upright and allowing you to just sit on his cock for a moment while he continues to prod your asshole, "I'll take that as a no," he mutters, "Think my cock'll fit up there?"

"It won't," you whisper immediately, shaking your head.

He assesses your expression, eyes trailing up and down your face calculatingly, like he's weighing the pros and cons. Your heart stutters in your chest and you feel that fear from earlier slowly begin to creep back into your psyche, hands shaking under the rope.

"I won't," he states, and relief floods through your body; you relax in his embrace, becoming aware again of his cock still buried deep inside you. He very carefully prods the tip of his index finger inside your asshole and your eyes go wide again, mouth opening in protest. "Yet," he amends, smiling coldly at you, "I won't yet. Not today."

He pulls his finger out and walks with you to the work bench again, places you down gentler than before and peers at you with something in his gaze that you can't place, a curiosity that wasn't there before. It's gone in an instant though, and then he's fucking into you again without warning, gripping tight to your hips and slamming back and forth until you see stars.

"You thought this'd be so funny, didn't you?" he growls, looking at you again with that detached contempt, black eyes locked with yours. He brings his hand down and starts rubbing your clit again, not caring that you only just came a moment ago. "Thought you'd come here, have your fun, and leave again. But it's not so funny anymore, is it? Huh? Is it funny?"

"N-no," you gasp out, overstimulated to the point of even more tears as you squirm and writhe on the work bench, pussy aching from the insistent way he's pounding you and the relentless rubbing of his fingers against your clit.

"S'the last time you show up here tellin' lies," he mutters, "Understand me? Any time you come into my house from now on you're gettin' fucked, got it?"

"Y-yes," you cry, hands futilely attempting to ball into fists behind your back, and he shakes his head.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir!" you scream it, and just as the words pass your lips he stills inside of you, cock twitching as he starts to come. Your eyes go wide, mouth dropping open as his hand sends you into another climax just as he reaches his. Your head falls against his chest and you hear him groan above you, feel the way his cock pulsates and throbs and spits his cum in long and heavy spurts. Your thighs twitch and you feel his hand at your back, pulling you in close as he cups the back of your head.

You stay like that for a moment without speaking, your heavy breaths the only sound in the garage other than the rain now pelting heavily against the door. You swear you can hear his heartbeat.

"Good little girl, warmin' my cock," he murmurs in your ear, and you're still catching your breath, eyes closed, sobs wracking from your throat repeatedly. "Full o'me, huh? You feel all that, baby?"

You can only nod against his chest, wrists still straining against the rope as your toes curl somewhere below you and your body continues to shake. His cum settles warmly deep inside and your eyes roll back a bit when he pushes in further, like he's trying to keep it inside for as long as he can.

"Guess I found a new little cum dumpster, huh?" he whispers, carding his fingers through your hair, "I'll have to say thank you to your friends, or -" he pauses thoughtfully for a moment, "maybe I'll just have to send 'em a little message back with you."

You pull your face back from his chest, peering up at him with tired confusion. He reaches down and pulls out one of the drawers of the work bench, coming back up with a sharpie. You watch with fluttering lashes, unable to stop him - and not really wanting to - as he uncaps the marker and pushes your hair out of the way to write something across your chest, the cold tip making you jolt slightly.

"Shh," he murmurs, "It's okay, I'll untie ya in a sec."

It doesn't take him very long to finish writing whatever it is on your skin, and then he's slowly pulling his cock out of you. You whimper at the loss, thighs twitching as you peer down and watch his softening length slip past your hole, followed by a steady stream of his cum. He quickly reaches up and pushes what he can back inside, thumbing it back in carefully while the reality of what's just happened really begins to settle. You just let a man in his fifties tie you up, use you, come inside you, and write on your chest.

"Can't have all that slippin' out yet," he mutters, "Now, what can we use?" His eyes dart up to the shelves above you and he reaches up to grab something; when his hand comes back down you see the pocket flashlight from earlier, see the slightly flared base and know almost immediately what he's planning on using it for.

For some reason - whatever reason it is that you stayed here after he gave you an out, whatever reason you really came here in the first place - you don't protest.

He brings the flashlight downwards and quickly removes his hand from your pussy to replace it with the wide end, slipping it inside with only minimal resistance. You whimper and he hushes you, brushing his nose against yours as he assesses his handiwork.

"That should do it," he murmurs, then peers back up at you and pushes some stray hair out of your face "You keep that in there 'til you get home, okay?" His eyes have softened a bit, looking more similar to the way they did when you first showed up - is this the real him? You honestly have no idea.

You don't say anything, just nod slowly, feeling the anxiety from earlier begin to sink in yet again. How are you going to get home when you have no clothes? How are you going to explain to your friends what happened? How can you tell them - or show them - what you let him do to you?

These questions are clearly none of his concern. You watch as he backs up and gestures for you to stand with him; you do, with beyond shaky legs and the cold metal of the flashlight between your thighs.

"Turn around," he orders.

You feel him untie the rope from your wrists, essentially ending your time here - whatever it even was. It somehow doesn't feel real. You let them hang limply at your sides, feeling embarrassment flood your cheeks as you turn back around to look at him. He's watching you with a smirk, arms crossed - his dick is back in his jeans. He looks no different than he had when you arrived.

"Now get the fuck out," he says, dark eyes glinting once again under the flickering fluorescents, "before I change my mind."

--

The air is still chilly. The road is still wet. But thankfully, there are no cars.

You don't know how you manage to get home without anyone seeing you - hunched over, naked in the darkness, avoiding the streetlights, trying to ignore the ache between your legs and the icy intrusiveness of the flashlight still lodged inside of you - but you do. Your palms are sweaty again, heart pounding at the thought of your friends coming to greet you at the door, for the shock and confusion and screaming to begin - but that doesn't happen.

The moment you're back in the house you pull a jacket down from the coat rack and cover yourself, tiptoeing past the living room and waiting to be accosted by the friends who put you in this situation to begin with. Instead, they're nowhere to be seen. You hear the faint echo of laughter from the kitchen, hear the sounds of glass clattering and a fridge being shut. It's like they've already forgotten you even left, like the game meant nothing, and they've already found something new to entertain them, something better.

As if your futile attempt at getting a kiss on the cheek from Joel Miller is already something lost in the past.

And, you think, as you shakily climb the stairs and creep into the bathroom, tear the jacket from your shoulders and stare at your bare chest in the bathroom mirror, see the dark permanent lines that read TRUTH OR DARE...

Maybe that's how it should be.

[hollyoongs]

𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚

You hate physiology, it was hard for you to understand it, but at least you had your cute nerdy boyfriend to save your ass.

pairing: sunghoon × fem! reader | genre: smut | w.c: 3.6k | trigger warning: suggestive content, oral (f. receiving), fingering, squirting, inexpirienced nerd!hoon, experiencied cheerleader!reader, Hoon is a whole ass gentleman, use of nickname "princess".

You knew this kind of tension; of course, you did. But this kind of air surrounds you both only when you're alone, when those labels of "lifeless nerd boy" and "popular cheerleader" are thrown out the window.

Your relationship with Park Sunghoon has been a complete secret since day one, at his request, and honestly, you didn't mind at all. He knew that if the whole school found out, he'd have to deal with fake friendships, continued abuse, and six months of being the talk of the whole high school, just like what happened with one of his classmates. Sunghoon is a completely serious person in the educational arena, but that facade fades away when both of you are in the comfort of one of your houses, revealing his shy, tender, romantic, and loving side. Discovering this side of him is a privilege that he acknowledges, and he's expressed the same sentiment to you, albeit in reverse.

No one knows that you've been together for almost a year; no one knows that your lips meet with his, brimming with a mix of desperation and love with each kiss. And no one knows that each other is the missing piece in each other's lives.

You steal a glance at Sunghoon, a small smile tugging at your lips, even though your thoughts are betraying your concentration. You won't deny that watching Sunghoon absorb his studies is attractive. His wavy hair falls over his forehead, his brow slightly furrowed as his eyes remain fixed on the book in his lap, and his glasses perched a bit lower than usual. The rolled-up sleeves of his uniform reveal his toned forearms, and his fingers play with the orange highlighter in a distracting manner. You envy the way he absentmindedly bites his bottom lip, your attention momentarily captivated by the movement before he releases his lip from his teeth, allowing it to regain its softness.

"Okay. The next topic is quite common. The vagina," you're jolted back to reality by the unexpected word. Your cheeks warm up a little, and Sunghoon chuckles softly at your reaction. His fingers set the highlighter aside and traveled to your exposed thigh beneath the short cheerleader skirt. "If you'd rather study this topic alone, I understand."

"No, not at all. I just got lost in thought for a moment. Sorry." You respond, grateful that Sunghoon doesn't pry further. You adjust yourself, making sure you're more comfortable and mentally reminding yourself to rein in your wandering thoughts. Shifting slightly, you prop yourself against the headboard, ready to pay attention.

"I'll try to explain it in simple terms, using the keywords the teacher used in the last test. When we talk about the internal part of the vagina, it extends from your cervix, which connects the vagina to the uterus. Your vagina terminates as an opening outside your body, known as the vaginal opening. It's located between your bladder and rectum. And don't forget about the G-spot, which is also situated there and can be stimulated with fingers or a penis." He finishes the explanation with a faint blush on his cheeks, and once again, your thoughts take a wild turn.

Despite being in a relationship now, your interactions have mostly consisted of innocent touches: his hand on your waist, you sitting on his lap while he studies. You both respect each other's boundaries. But now, as you listen to Sunghoon, your head spins with a desire to throw the book away and explore a realm that has remained untouched.

Sunghoon is a virgin, and you are not. You've been patient, waiting for him to take that step when he's ready. And you can feel that moment approaching. It's not just the impure thoughts that excite you; it's also the small changes in his actions. The unexpected kisses, the slight lip bites, the gentle yet possessive touch on your back—it made you crazy in a good way.

"Can you remind me of the names of each part?" you ask, your genuine need for understanding evident. You've spent nights studying, yet during tests, you sometimes mix up the names and end up with lower scores. That's why you rely on Sunghoon to help you understand quickly and effectively.

About half an hour passes, and your mind is struggling to absorb the influx of information. You're tired of the overload of scientific terms and concepts that you could now write a thesis on. But your learning style leads you to forget quickly due to your lack of focus.

Sunghoon notices and decides to set the books aside, focusing on you instead. He doesn't bombard you with questions or textbook sentences. Instead, he reaches out to you, and his departure from studying surprises you. His actions earn him a puzzled but bright look from you, and a small smile forms on his lips.

"Hey, Hoon, aren't we going to continue?" You inquire, caught off guard, as his lips press gently against yours. You respond a few minutes later, his fingers tilting your chin as he draws away from the delicate, soft kiss.

The kissing session commences, and both your hands and his find their rightful places. Your fingers play with his neck, and his firm hands rest on your waist. Now, Sunghoon is no longer thinking coherently; all he wants is to kiss you until you're both breathless. He revels in the soft dance of your lips and the playful clash of tongues, where he's determined to be the victor. Your sparkling eyes and your lovely cherry-toned lips, combined with the aftermath of the wet kiss, make his heart flutter before his very eyes.

And there's also a certain physical reaction he's experiencing that he can't ignore.

A wild idea takes root in his mind, and he can't help but bite your lower lip when he gives you another kiss, earning a groan from you—the first one ever. Your excitement matches his, and he can sense the building tension between you.

Irregular breathing becomes part of the routine after heated kissing sessions. But what Sunghoon says next catches you off guard.

"Can you lie on your back?" Confusion floods your senses, but you follow his request. Your eyes remain on him as he removes his tie and glasses; a sense of nervousness is evident in his actions.

"Hoon, what are you planning?" The tie is now in his hands, and he swallows as he looks at it with contemplation in his eyes.

"Can I use this as a blindfold for you?" You nod almost automatically; the idea might be crazy, but your trust in him is unwavering, and vice versa. Darkness envelops your vision as the tie is securely fastened and you exhale.

"What can you tell me about the vagina?"

"Well, there's an inner and outer part, both highly sensitive to touch."

"Especially…"

"Especially the clitoris and the G-spot." A barely-there touch brushes your face as his fingers graze your skin, and you can't help but let out a soft sigh in response. With your eyes covered, you don't notice the change in Sunghoon's expression—his flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips.

"Where's the clitoris?" Shyness rushes over you like a tide, momentarily freezing your actions. But you overcome it and guide your index finger downward, mentally noting its position. Sunghoon hums his approval at your correct answer. "And where's the G-spot?"

"I can't touch that; it's inside." After a small break, Sunghoon's lips touched yours in a slightly harsh kiss, leaving you speechless for a mere second before responding with the same force. His fingers went from your breast valley to your aching clitoral area. He put a small amount of pressure on you, a little scared in case your reaction wasn't the one that he wanted. Thankfully, when he saw your back arching because of the sudden action, he couldn't help but smile, relieved.

He attacked your lips with his as he started doing small circular movements, the friction with your clothes feeling a little too good to be true. You were waiting for this but didn't know it could be this soon; you won't even complain. A small whine left your mouth when he decided to break the kiss, silence surrounding both of you.

"Can I make you feel good? Well, try." You couldn't help but laugh a little, because there was no way that Sunghoon would ever make you feel bad in any sense. Pros of dating a gentleman like him.

"Only if you can take that from me." Sunghoon's hand ended in his tie, and you stopped it right away. "I didn't mean the tie, Hoon."

Sunghoon was surprised; he would have never imagined you would be one of the people who were into that type of kink. He wouldn't even mind saying something because, deep inside him, he also liked that idea. His fingers touched the waistband of both, your skort and underwear all in one, revealing how wet you started to get because of your thoughts (that he didn't know about) and the heat of the moment. Sunghoon was fascinated by the amount of arousal dripping from your core. His tongue licked very quickly at his lips, and he took a look at you.

Chest moving up and down in a way to calm yourself down, one of your hands ready to grip the mattress of the bed while the other was around your right breast, he looked again and could feel himself grow in excitement as his dick also did the same thing. You were surprised when you felt your boyfriend breathe near your chest; his fingers were stuck to your tights.

"Do you have any tips?"

"Play with my clitoral first like before, and if you want, you can finger me after you see me if I'm wet enough." You heard your boyfriend exhaling, and later on, the grip in your throat started to get loose. His dumb passed your slit in a very superficial way, but that sent sparks to your spine. He then collected some of the wetness that was created before and spread it in your sensitive bud. Shy circles were drawn in, and shaking breaths simply escaped your mouth.

Sunghoon didn't want to miss any reactions, a sense of pride showing in the cocky smile that started creating in his face. With your positive reactions in his head, he put more preassure and speed in his work, seeing how you were clenching around nothing and your hips started to move up and down. Again, an idea pops out of his head.

"I'm going to ask you some questions, and if you answer them correctly, I will increase the speed or continue at this pace, whatever you feel comfortable with. If you don't, then I will stop. Are you okay with it?" Of course you were not, but you nodded in pleasure when you felt the last circle in your heart.

"Before we started talking about the vagina, there were seven erogenous zones on a woman. Can you tell me all of them, princess?" Your mind start the engine, remembering the text and the lectures in class, but still in doubt.

"Bottom of the feet… it has pressure points that enhance arousal and increase blood flow."

"It does, princess; we can tell the preassure points by doing some massage in the area, just like I do it when you're stressed." You nodded again as you cleared your throat, feeling one more time his dumb in your clitoral area, making painfully slow circles in it. "Keep going."

"Ears are also one of them; the nerves and sensory receptors on the inside and outside are the ones that make it sensible. Any movement, such as light stroking or touching, is bound to give you a pleasing tingly sensation."

"Really? Are there any common movements that give that sensation?"

"Yes…"

"Tell me, princess."

"Kisses." His movements never stopped, but you could feel his body moving to your position, his lips giving a small peck to yours, and then his head going to your left side. His lips started giving feathery kisses in it; you hummed in pleasure, and your left hand stopped right up to the back of his head.

"Are there others, or is it the only one?" His whisper made you shiver; this was a whole new side of him that you were happy to be part of.

"Lightly licks and nibbles are the others. Blowing and whispering into it are also ones, but those are not frequently used, or that's what the book said."

"Is that so?" Your head was probably tired of nodding, but you just couldn't talk. Words cannot describe what Sunghoon was making you feel. An unexpected wet kiss made you moan, and from your boyfriend's mouth, a grunt escaped because of your fingers making a mess in the back of his head. "You have said two parts; you're missing five. Continue; you can do it, princess."

"Hands, especially the fingertips and palms, slight touches, and other things can make her feel the intimacy. That's why it came in fifth place."

"What are the other things?" You started to feel shy, and so Sunghoon, Sunghoon couldn't care less about the slight pain he felt in his dumb and how his lips started to get progressively numb due to his continued kisses. He saw how you gulped.

"Sucking fingers." Sunghoon shyly hummed in response, stating that the answer was correct. Sunghoon left his position and finally stopped his movements, gaining low whimpers from his girlfriend.

"You're doing great. Now there are four more, and to my surprise, two of them are from the last topic that we studied. Give me the other two."

"Inner thights and the nipples" the confidence in your voice was as clear as the day, a proud non-teeth smile on your face when you said those.

"The inner thoughts? Why is that?"

"It's due to their closeness to the genitals. Light strokes and touches can stimulate your loins. Also kisses."

"Like this?" You could feel the hands of your boyfriend on top of your naked thights; a light presence in them made you grab the matress; you could only sense the fact that Sunghoon was having you on the verge without even fingering (if he wanted to); he was gentle yet sensual; every movement he made was just a moment of pure bliss. You started to hold your breath when you felt his head going down, but that breath you let go of when he delivered shy kisses and hickeys in the place.

Once again, he left your body alone, wanting more and more as every interaction passed.

"Can you explain why the nipples are part of that category?"

"When nipples are stimulated, the nerves surrounding them send signals to the genital... sensory cortex?" There was doubt in your voice, but you kept going. "The same brain region is aroused due to clitoral or vaginal stimulation. Just like the others, kissing and licking is a common way to stimulate them."

You couldn't see Sunghoon's satisfied smile; you had said everything correctly at that point; you just missed two more. He decided that it was time to set you free from the tie, and your eyes welcomed him after blinking a few times. The sun was setting down, but that couldn't make Sunghoon more mesmerizing in your eyes.

His lips were pretty red, his cheeks were almost as red, his hair was way messier than before, and the first two buttons of his school uniform were open, making you take a look at his beautiful milky skin.

"I think you know how my… dynamic is going, but I need your full consent. Would you let me touch you?" He was nervous, but his decision was firm. You place your palms on his cheeks and lean forward for a deep kiss, bringing him closer. Sunghoon, being the smart person he is, knew the answer. In the middle of the kiss, he took off his glasses and threw them in a random part of the place without a care and only focusing on your pleasure. You two were in the zone, and the passion was visible from a mile away. Both of you are losing it.

"Now, tell me what we talk about the vagina. It can be in your own words."

"It starts with the cervix connecting it to the uterus, ends with an opening outside the body called the vaginal opening, located between the bladder and rectum. Additionally, it mentions the presence of the G-spot in this area, which can be stimulated manually or during intercourse."

"And what are the other two that you are missing?"

"Clitoris and A-Spot"

"Since I know where the clitoris is, can you tell where the A-Spot is located? Don't forget the function." Now it was your time that an idea popped into your mind. You sat on the bed, your vagina creating contact with the sheets because of the pose you were in, and you took away the last two pieces of clothing on you. Sunghoon lean back with his palms in the bed to support his weight, his eyes looking down.

Sunghoon just can't believe that he was your boyfriend. What did he do in his past life to have someone as mesmerizing and beautiful as you next to him? He didn't even feel worthy to look at you, but the way you crawled back in his direction and made him look at you, the daughter of Aphrodite herself, gave him the confidence he needed. You had your legs to his sides, and your dripping core was on top of his clothed erection, making Sunghoon focus on self-control.

"I didn't tell you about the clitoris, so let me also show you." When you took his hand and placed his thumb in her bud, it was over for both of you. "It's located at the top of the vulva, above the vaginal opening. The nerves there are what ultimately make it the powerhouse of pleasure. Licks, touches, and slight pinches are what mostly stimulate it."

"And last but not least?"

"The A-spot is believed by some to have a role in sexual pleasure and arousal in women. It's located deep within the vagina near the cervix; its function is still not fully understood, and more research is needed to elucidate its role in."

"God, I love you." Once again, Sunghoon lips meet yours. The sudden kiss made you move on top of him, which led to him lightly biting your lower lip and moaning into each other's mouths.

Just like royalty, with a hand of your lower back and behind your knee, he stood up and carefully placed you or the bed one more time. Your head touched the pillow, and one last kiss was given to you.

"Is it my turn to teach you, Park?" You smiled at each other while both of your foreheads touched in an intimate way. "If I'm wet enough, lubricate your middle and ring finger." Small pecks were given as he was going along, following your instructions precisely, making you moan at the sensation of your whole area being filled with your natural lubricator.

"I think I can take it from here."

"Are you sure? Because I don't… Oh God." You ate your words down when Sunghoon's mouth touched your clitoral area, his middle finger making his way through your entrance. All the wait was worthy, one hundred percent; he knew what he was doing, and you were thanking all the gods above for those three days of sexual classes that the school made everybody take. "How the fuck are you so...good?"

His ring finger was now inside you once you begged him to do it. Sunghoon was being messy since he was inexperienced, but he placed himself above all your "experienced" exes. Your G-spot was so stimulated that you started to feel the shakes and white dots appearing in your vision, and that familiar knot in your stomach started after six minutes of a touch of heaven.

"Sunghoon, I'm so close. Please, don't stop." His fingers were fast, and after you said that, his head got up from your core. He felt so good about him making you feel so good; the view was just beautiful to his eyes.

"In case you need to know, princess, this is the A-spot." His mouth attacked one of your naked nipples with eagerness, and his fingers got deeper, moving up and down at a delicious speed. You couldn't take it any longer, and you just covered your unstoppable moaning screams with your loose hand as you came undone in his hand, having a surprise after you calmed yourself down with kisses all along your chest and face.

A tired laugh left your lips when you saw Sunghoon's eyes waiting for a comment from you like a puppy. You gave him a tender kiss with your other hand, fixing his front hairs.

"You were perfect, Hoon," his fangs showed up with his relieved smile, and he burried himself in the curvature of your neck. "If this repeats, I hope all the knowledge in the books you have read can make me have my first squirt."

"You mean this?" He moved a little bit, and your eyes were wide open when you saw part of his pants and the bed sheets being soaked wet. You have squirted, and the pleasure was so big that you didn't even realize it.

"Come on, princess, I will prepare the bath tub for you to clean up, and I'm taking care of the bed."

"Wait!" he stopped once he stood up, and you took him by surprise, placing your hands on his thighs. "Can I help you with that before?"

↷ 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢'𝚜 note: I was actually debating myself into posting it or not, but I decided to give it a try with my bias since I-LAND. I hope you like it fellow people! 🦋

[strnsvt]

yoon jeonghan — pineapple's kiss and dad's wisdom.

dad!jeonghan ; mom!reader

jeonghan was greeted by the sound of laughter echoing through the house. a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he kicked off his shoes, the familiar warmth of home enveloping him.

making his way into the living room, he found you and ara sitting on the couch, your faces lit up with joy.

"what's all this laughter about?" jeonghan asked, kissing you and ara on the cheek before settling onto the carpeted floor, leaning his back against the couch, loosening his tie.

"go on, tell your papa what happened at school today," you prompted.

ara's laughter bubbled over as she leaned forward, eager to share her story with her father. "pineapple kissed me on the cheek!"

jeonghan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "pineapple kissed you on the cheek?" he repeated.

you nodded, adding "a boy in her class, she calls him pineapple cause he looks like one,"

jeonghan's eyebrows furrowed in bemusement, "first of all, how does one look like a pineapple?" he stammered, trying to wrap his head around the peculiar nickname.

"and secondly," he continued, his tone shifting to a more serious one, "you can't let a boy just kiss you like that, ara. you need to set boundaries,"

you nodded in agreement, placing a comforting hand on ara's shoulder. "your papa's right, ara. it's important to respect yourself and make sure others respect you too."

"i know, ma, papa. but i like him. and i liked when he kissed me. just like how you kiss ma,"

jeonghan sighs. his heart softening at ara's innocent nonetheless. "ara, sweetheart," he began gently, "i'm married to your ma, which is why we can do things like kiss each other. but for you, you're still very young,"

"that's right, honey. when you're older, you'll understand more about relationships and what's appropriate," you say, offering a small smile.

jeonghan paused, his thoughts swirling as he considered how to proceed. he recalled ara's innocent confusion about the concept of boyfriends, and he didn't want to inadvertently introduce more confusion into her young mind so he avoides using that word.

"ara," he began, "see, papa will be very upset if you allow a boy to kiss you," he says, his tone soft yet very firm.

ara glanced at you and then jeonghan as she nodded solemnly with a smile, "ok ma, papa. i'll listen," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

jeonghan's heart swelled with pride as he reached out to gently ruffle ara's hair. "that's my girl," he said softly, a warm smile gracing his lips.

as bedtime approached, jeonghan lifted ara onto his back, ready to give her a piggyback ride to her room. ara giggled with delight, wrapping her arms around her father's neck as they made their way down the hallway.

once ara was tucked into bed and drifting off to sleep, jeonghan returned to your room, he noticed you chuckling to yourself, a mischievous glint in your eye.

"what?" jeonghan asked, his brow raised in confusion as he undos the buttons on his wrist.

"it was just a kiss, jeonghan," you replied playfully, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you watched him.

jeonghan chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "i know, i know," he said, his tone light and affectionate. "but you know how protective i can get when it comes to our little girl. she's five. she doesn't need a boyfriend,"

"boyfriend? do you think she knows even the meaning of it?"

"she doesn't. that's why i avoided using that word infront of her," jeonghan smiles, scoffing, "pineapple," he muttered, the corners of his lips curling up into a fond smile.

you chuckle too, "that was the nickname me and my friends had for you,"

"huh? when?"

"when i was crushing on you, of course,"

jeonghan's eyes widened in surprise at your revelation. "pineapple? really?" he asked, a mixture of amusement and curiosity evident in his tone.

you nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. "yeah, it was just a silly nickname we came up with," you explained, your cheeks flushing slightly at the memory. "but it's funny how things come full circle, isn't it?"

jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head in fond disbelief. "i never would have guessed," he admitted, his gaze lingering on you with newfound warmth. "but i'm glad you stopped calling me that."

you grinned, reaching out to playfully poke his arm. "well, you'll always be my pineapple," you teased, a hint of affection in your voice.

[strangersmunsons]

alien life form

you spend the night at Eddie's for the first time.

Contains: Eddie x Reader, shy!fem!reader, first relationship, Eddie is a sweetheart with the inexperienced girlies because I said so, pizza, movies, cuddling, ALF. No mention of reader's physical appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: None! Word Count: 1,400-ish I started writing this because I've not seen like anyone talk about the ALF costume in the Munson trailer, can we please talk about the ALF costume? I need to talk about the ALF costume. this is my first fanfiction in like 10 years that's how badly i needed to address this

You and Eddie haven't been together very long. Officially, that is.

In truth, he'd been yours from the moment he saw you. But it had taken some time to work up the courage to actually say hello to you, and then, well, some more time to ask you if you wanted to study together for the class you shared, and then just a little bit more time to ask you, bashfully, if you wanted to get dinner with him at Benny's.

"Like...as a date? If you want to, I mean. If not that's totally fine, I underst-"

You'd cut him off with an equally shy, but emphatic, yes.

Eddie was sweet, and silly, and you grew to hate being apart from him. You suspected he felt the same.

You walked side by side through the halls at school, your knuckles brushing against his, both of you hoping that the other would be brave enough to finally take hold. You spent nights huddled around your kitchen table, patiently guiding him through chapters of his biology textbook. There were arcade dates where he kicked your ass at Pac-Man and you kicked his ass at Centipede. You met him for milkshakes at Benny's after Hellfire...and there was that one rollerskating venture that left his elbows and knees black and blue for a week. (You have not been back to the roller rink since.)

But tonight you were entering uncharted territory.

You told your parents that you were having a girls night at the Wheelers' house. As far as they knew, you were ordering takeout and watching Sixteen Candles with Nancy and Robin. But when you arrived at the school parking lot that morning, it had been Eddie's van that you tossed your overnight bag into.

He'd greeted and kissed you enthusiastically, cheerful at the prospect of getting to spend an entire night with you uninterrupted. Wayne wouldn't be home from work til next morning and your parents were none the wiser. No curfew to be home by, no keep-that-door-open-three-inches-please-young-lady, just you. All to himself.

You, on the other hand, were nervous. You'd never dated anyone before, and you wanted to take things slow. You trusted Eddie to respect your boundaries, but a small part of you couldn't help but worry. What if he was expecting something of you that you weren't ready to give him?

When school ended that afternoon, he opened the passenger door of his van for you to climb in. "Change your mind yet?" he teased.

You flushed a little, but you were determined not to let your hesitation show. "Nope!"

He seated himself and began the drive to Forest Hills, throwing glances your way the whole time. You were quieter than usual. When you slowed to a stop in front of the Munson trailer, he turned to you.

"Hey," he said gently, "it's okay." He reached over and placed a calloused hand on your knee. "I can tell that you're nervous, but you don't have to be. I'm not gonna pressure you into anything. I'm just really excited to spend time with you." He cringed inwardly. Be cool, Munson. "I mean, without having Wayne or your dad breathing down my neck, y'know?" No need to mention that the thought of merely sleeping next to you was making him weak at the knees.

Your lips curved upwards in a smile. He wondered if you could see right through him.

Of course, Eddie stayed true to his word.

Amusingly, the evening he had planned wasn't all that different from many of your actual girls' nights. You'd talked and laughed about anything and everything. You'd changed into comfortable clothes. There was pizza and a movie, except you'd watched The Shining instead of the latest John Hughes flick, and you'd watched it while bundled up in your favorite boy's arms.

Eddie was very warm, and his skin smelled like soap, laced with a bite of cheap cologne. An air of tobacco still clung faintly to his worn Hellfire shirt, even though he'd promised himself he wouldn't smoke any cigarettes before seeing you tonight, and he hadn't. And he was very proud of himself for that, thank you very much.

You were cuddled up together on Wayne's little couch. He kept his arms wrapped around your middle and rested his chin on your shoulder, cheek pressed against yours. Every so often he would turn his head to give you soft kisses, to hide his face in your hair, to breathe you in, content like he's never, ever been before.

You wondered at your earlier fear. His adoration was tangible. As you settled back against him, you felt that yours must be too.

As Jack Nicholson wandered through a snowy maze on the television screen, you started to drift off. Eddie lovingly stroked your hair while your eyelids grew heavier and heavier. When the credits started to roll, he roused you as gently as he could, and lead you to the bathroom to wash up. He all but carried you to his bed.

Which is how you ended up here.

Eddie's asleep and he's sleeping heavily - deep, REM sleep, with his cheek mashed into the pillow and a thin stream of saliva creeping out of his mouth. Even like this, he looks precious. You can't even be mad at him for letting out the guttural snore that just yanked you from your own slumber. Aren't you only supposed to snore like that when you're on your back?

You glance blearily around the room from underneath his arm. You're taking in the posters on the walls, the piled-up trinkets, his beloved guitar ("I used to call her Sweetheart, but not anymore. Since I'm a one-woman man an' all," he'd said, flashing you a cheesy grin). You're taking in all these little pieces of Eddie scattered around the room, when your eyes wander to his closet, and your heart nearly stops.

Maybe it's nothing, maybe it's your tired brain swirling the shadows around the room into shapes that aren't there, but you're almost positive someone is standing in Eddie's closet. A misshapen, vaguely human figure pushed up against his clothing, right next to the ratty Metallica and Megadeth t-shirts.

There's a beat of silence, and then -

"Eddie!" it comes out in a dry whisper, and you struggle to turn under the the combined weight of him and the blanket. You wrench your arm free to poke him frantically in the cheek with your finger, startling him awake.

"Huh?" His voice is groggy. "S'mthing wrong, sweetheart? What's the matter?" He forces himself to sit up and squints, peering down at you in concern. He cups your face in his hand. "Bad dream?"

"There's something - I mean, I think - there's somebody, s-something in your closet! W-what is that?" You stumble through the sentence, too frightened to be embarrassed.

Eddie turns his head to where you're pointing, unsure. He drags himself away from you and walks to his closet, fumbling blindly for the little chain, while you clutch at the blanket and cower from the safety of his bed.

When the light switches on, he lets out a loud laugh - the only kind of laugh Eddie has. He turns back to you, grinning now, and gestures to the object in question with a little flourish of his arms. "This what you were looking at?"

In the dim light, you can see that it's a costume. A fuzzy, zip-up body suit with a shapeless sort of mask hanging limply over the front. You flood with relief, feeling silly.

You sit up in bed, eyeing the brown fur at the top. "Is that supposed to be a lion?"

"No!" He almost sounds offended. "It's ALF," he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

You look at him dumbly. "ALF? Like from the TV show, ALF?"

"Of course. It's my Halloween costume."

"...why?"

"I like him. He's funny."

You gawp at him, and he looks right back at you. His eyes are red and puffy, his hair's a total mess, but he's smiling lightly and sweetly as ever.

A few seconds go by and you can't help it. A burst of giggles escape from behind your pursed lips.

Eddie cocks his head to the side, and places a hand on his hip, his expression that of mock-outrage.

"Now, just why is that so funny?"

You continue to laugh, positively overwhelmed with affection for him. It occurs to you that maybe you don't want to take things as slowly with Eddie as you previously thought...

[lowkeyrobin]

hi could you please write smth about accidentally revealing your relationship with quackity? preferably with cc!reader <3

of course!! thanks for the request 🫶 ; ik I did a preference about accidentally revealing relationships but doing a little different thing and going in depth w it was fun!

QUACKITY ; softlaunch ❌ hardlaunch ✅

summary ; you and Alex accidentally reveal your relationship

warnings ; language, little bit of buzzed ranting, use of pet names (babe)

genre ; fluff

word count ; 1k

masterlist

You and Alex have been together for about ten-ish months, keeping it on the low since you'd been traveling around for QSMP meetups, events, and the Streamer Awards for a little bit.

You'd finally gotten home, your shared apartment with Alex, with Cellbit and Roeir tagging along. The three were planning to make a 'trying mexican candies' video in the morning while you were planning to edit and maybe stream til you felt tired enough to quit and sleep. The three guys sit out in the living room, watching some TV show as they sprawl out on the couch, buzzed from the aftermath of award winning.

You were more than proud for your boyfriend, but it being so late now, and your need for comfort after being overstimulated for hours on end, called for a little alone time. You sit in your office, the clock reading 1:30am as you hit the Go Live button on your stream.

You decided to chill out behind the closed door, just chatting with whatever viewers were still awake at this hour, or were just beginning their day, depending on timezones. After five minutes, you greet your chat, snacking on some cookies you'd picked up from the store before returning home earlier, a glass of milk sitting on your desk next to the plastic box.

You sit in your very comfortable chair with a QuackityHQ hoodie, with the signature duck in the corner and design on the back, and some long, patterned pj pants, colored dark blue and black with a floral design. They were thin enough to wear in the warm heat, which was perfect for you. You looked tired but didn't really feel that way, like your eyes were sewn open from adrenaline and happiness.

"Good morning, everyone" You chuckle, "Alex just won an award, feeling good! He, Cellbit and Roier got some drinks and have been watching TV on the couch, so sorry if you can hear them. I closed the door just in case but don't mind any shouting or music"

Your chat explodes with messages, congratulating you, even though you lost in your category, and spamming hearts and heart hands emojis. Someone sends in a small donation, asking for clarification why they were at your house.

"Oh, Alex didn't wanna drive all the way back to his place and he had his car parked here from earlier. He drove the other two and we all left together. They're staying the night" You nod, clarifying with a little bit of lying, not wanting to slip up.

You'd known for a while that Alex was just a secretive person over the smallest things, and he didn't know why. You were totally fine being open about your relationship with friends, but made sure to respect boundaries for him. He reassured you in his own panic that he wasn't embarrassed to be with you and didn't want to hide his love for you often.

He explained it in simplest terms as he was weirdly secretive and he didn't want his weirdo stans attacking you or only watching you for him, he didn't want to ruin your fanbase that you built from the ground up. You'd been friends since forever, a good percentage (if not all, then most) of your fans also watched Quackity's content, which kind of made sense to you, but you didn't question it.

"But yeah, it was fun, just like... there were so many people, and so much was happening all at once and shit. I'm just trying to calm down and get tired." You lightly smile, taking a bite of one of your cookies. "I'm so proud of everyone who won and everyone who was nominated, good night for everyone"

You sit and talk to your chat for a while, occasionally listening to the trio's laughter outside your office. Before you can even snap your head around to inform whoever entered that you were live, they were already speaking, slightly laughing, and stumbling.

"Babe, oh my God, I'm so sorry! I accidentally dropped one of your plates in the kitchen and it fucking shattered everywhere, I'm so sorry. I cleaned it up, I just wanted to tell you than wait for you to notice and make you mad, I'm sorry, Y/n/n"

Your jaw hangs slightly agape, and you stare with a silent expression. You slowly turn back to your stream, the chat absolutely exploding with messages. You saw probably a hundred first time chatters even making an expression about it.

"Lex, I'm live" You speak between your teeth, muting your mic. "Ah- uh, it's, it's fine"

He quickly regains his composure, staring over at you, then looking over to your PC, showing that you were a thousand percent live and five thousand people heard him say that. By the morning, it'd be all over Twitter and YouTube Shorts and TikTok, people were already clipping it.

"Shit"

"Alex, holy shit"

The two of you sit in silence for a minute, trying to rationalize what to do. Cell and Roier bust into the office as well, seeing both of you silent before asking, where you both talk over each other very loudly to try and explain.

They both look over to your monitors, confirming you were live. They both laugh in a light hearted way, looking to Quackity.

"You're cooked, dude"

"Rest in peace"

"You say that like I'm embarrassed to be with them, I mean, it's not like that... I think. Y/n, are you embarrassed to be with me? I'm not embarrassed to be with you, I wanna post pictures of us on adventures and experiencing shit so people can see us for us and what we are-"

"My brother in Christ" You sigh with a chuckle, rubbing your temples. "It's said and done, it's fine. And no, I'm not embarrassed to be with you" You turn back to your stream, unmuting yourself under the red LED lights and lamp on your desk.

You sigh and shrug before speaking, throwing your hands up halfway in defense.

"Y/s/n real"

[pinkaditty]

Hi, hi!

I loved your perverted obey me brothers and you catching them with your underwear. Will you make a part 2 with the other dateables?

If not, no worries!!

I love your work and I hope you have a nice day!

anon. did u know that ur my first ask? did u know that anon? ily. i've been thinking abt this ask since i saw i first got it. i never knew getting an ask could be so euphoric.

anyways

Pervert (Obey Me: Shall We Date) Part 2!

summary: you are suspecting that someone is stealing your underwear. it will go missing and randomly reappear like it was never gone. you pretend not to notice, but set a little trap for the culprit… and catch them red handed.

a/n: folks. wow. i did not expect part 1 to be soso popular omg!! ily guys thanks so much for enjoying my stuff waaaah! sorry this second part took so fucking long man so much shit happened. like sooo much im so tired. anyways. here. this part includes the royals, angel, and human. ill be back with the others (thirteen, mephisto, and raphael) soon! they may be slightly ooc bc im unfamiliar with them but ill do my best! also im like literally praying that the characters i wrote here aren't ooc. I tried SO hard please lmk if they are. &lt;;/3

content warning: as usual fem!mc unless you like to imagine yours as a crossdresser (mc's physical attributes are not mentioned but fem undergarments are), and suggestive nsfw content! lmk if there's anything i missed :(

read part 1 here!

AS USUAL MINORS DNI PLEASE! PLEASE RESPECT MY BOUNDARY! THANK YOU!

Intro:

For a short while, you had been reassigned to stay at Purgatory Hall/The Demon Lord’s Castle/wherever else the Dateables are due to Satan having accidentally destroyed your section of the House of Lamentation. No big deal, but all of the brothers were less than happy to see you go. It’s okay, though. You’ll be fine among the others…

The story is the same, of course. You think someone has been nicking your intimates in their spare time. Which is, of course, strange but simultaneously exciting. 

You decide to set a trap to find out who they are, leaving your hamper full of clothes in the washroom before leaving to grab some scent beads. When you return, as expected, you can hear someone rifling through your intimates, but it’s not rushed. Rather, it’s calm and calculated, as though said person was desperate to not be heard. You decide to wait outside the door for them. Once they collect the spoils of their work, they quietly slip through the door, only to find you leaning against the wall outside, looking at them expectantly. Your arms are crossed and you’re tapping your fingers on your arm. You raise an eyebrow at them, stifling the urge to cackle at their panicked expression.

“Explain yourself, pervert.” 

Diavolo:

You know, simultaneously, you expected him and didn’t expect him at all - at the same time. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Dia was fascinated with humans, especially with you, but… To such lengths? Really? If only Barbatos could see him now. 

For a man that loves to talk… He sure is speechless now.

He’s frozen. The panicked expression remains on his face, his eyes flickering from the surrounding hallways and walls to you, to the floor, and back to the hallways. If there was a way out, he couldn’t find it. Before long, he deflated, resigning to looking down, a pitiful pout on his face. You got the feeling it was partially for show, though.

He whimpered like a hurt puppy before muttering a very formal apology. Keeping his head down, he held out the panties towards you. As you watch him, you realize this man has probably rarely ever felt shame before. It's almost entertaining - watching his eyes spin as he tries to adjust to feeling this way. Though he tries to hide it, you can hear his heaving breaths from here. He was ashamed. You could tell he wasn't ashamed for his actions; rather, he was ashamed because he was caught.

The thought makes you want to laugh, and you do, snatching the panties from his waiting hand. He looks up as you laugh, confused, his lips in a soft pout. His eyes almost look teary, as though he's that sad that you're laughing at him. You stifle your laughter with a hand and wave it off, walking past him into the laundry room to put your panties back in the hamper. Once your laughter dies out, you don't face him, but you do speak to him, knowing he is listening.

"Dia, the next time you find yourself fascinated with me, you can just ask. I'll be happy to spare a worn pair for your sake." 

You hear a surprised gasp, a shuffling of feet, and a relieved exhale. You turn to him, finally, to see him bowing his head in thanks. He's biting his lip and his face is bright red. Probably too embarrassed to make eye contact. He covers his mouth with his hand, muffling his words before speaking.

"Thank you, MC, for letting this slide… And please, don't tell Barbatos…" His face burns red at his final words, and you smile, amused.

"Don't worry, I won't tell." You wink at him before returning to your laundry, hearing his hesitant steps as he walked away.

Barbatos:

He's frozen. Mortified. He stands there, rooted to the spot like a statue of stone. He stammers out your name in surprise, nervously shifting his gaze from you to your surroundings. He clears his throat, holding a hand up to his lips, and keeps it there, as though attempting to hide his growing blush. "I-I deeply apologize, MC. I should not have been here… You were not meant to see me… " He sounds out of breath, his words light and mumbled.

He turns away from you at an angle, shutting his eyes tight and keeping his hand in front of his face. You watch him take deep breaths and attempt to steady himself and regain his composure. You had to admit, watching him fumble through such an embarrassment was awfully entertaining. His chest visibly rose and fell with each audible breath. He gently teetered on his feet, as though he could fall over if he couldn't keep up. What a sight to behold, Barbatos at a loss for words and composure. 

You approach him quietly, walking slowly to prevent the click of your shoes from being heard. You know that while he can't hear you, he can feel you, and he knows you're close. He shuffles backwards shyly, attempting to replace the distance you remove with every step. Ultimately, however, he is too slow, and you manage to get close enough to him, cornering him against a wall inside the laundry room. You make no effort to cage him in, but simply watch as he continues to attempt to get ahold of himself. He swallows thickly and slowly opens his eyes, calming down. He lowers his hand back to his side, and looks at you levelly, his expression still embarrassed but not mortified any longer. You smile, raising an eyebrow.

"I'd like my panties now, thanks." You hold out a hand expectantly, and Barbatos obliges, pulling the panties from his coat pocket and placing them in your waiting hand, all signs of embarrassment gone from his face, replaced by his trademark smile instead. His ears however, were a dead giveaway, as the tips of them remained red. You simply chuckle and lean away from him, humming in thanks and placing them back into the hamper. He moves to assist you with your clothes, and does so efficiently, though you watch him carefully to ensure his nimble fingers don’t grab hold of anything else without your permission. When the task is finished, he bows respectfully.

“Is there anything else I can assist you with, MC?” 

You shake your head, smiling. “No, but thank you, Barbatos.”

With that done, his ears still burning red and his smile faltering slightly, he moves to leave. You stop him, grabbing his arm as he passes you. He looks back at you curiously, embarrassment still painted on his face. “And, please, ask me next time.” You smile, your eyes filling with mirth. “I’d be happy to give you a pair later as thanks for your assistance.”

He swallows thickly and his eyes widen. He bites his lip before nodding, thanking you briskly, and walking away hurriedly, his face red.

You think you see a flash of lace in his back pocket as he leaves, but maybe you’re imagining it...

Simeon:

Now, this was a surprise. The angel? Really?

He yelps in surprise, fumbling with the panties and dropping them on the ground, hiding his face in his hands and backing into a wall. He’s visibly shaking, his hands trembling as he hides behind them, not even peeking out to observe your reaction. His knees wobbled and he began to shrink in on himself, eventually kneeling on the floor. You watch him wordlessly, amused. He’s unexpectedly quite dramatic. 

After a few moments, you hear him mumbling to himself. Confused, you tentatively approach him, listening carefully. You catch little bits of what he’s saying before kneeling down, to which he shrinks further and his mumbling speed increases. Then it hits you. He’s… praying.

He’s literally fucking praying. 

You are so thoroughly amused at this that you want to laugh, but you wonder if being a victim of the wrath of Simeon or the almighty was worth it, so you decide against it. You stifle and disguise your laugh as clearing your throat, doing a comically loud “Ahem” to get Simeon’s attention.

Not one to be disobedient, he stops his muttering and slowly lifts his head to look at you. You smile smugly at him, your eyes narrowing with mirth. You reach out towards him and gently touch his chin. He flinches, but doesn’t pull away, looking between your fingers and your face curiously. You hold his chin and lift it upwards, and he follows your movements, adjusting himself so it’s easier to peer upwards at you. You smile wider, even more amused than before. 

“I don’t think that’ll work down here, Simeon.” Your voice is low and taunting, and Simeon gulps, his eyes still not leaving yours. He still doesn’t say anything, merely trembles, as though he were being judged.

Maybe he was, a little bit, but favorably so. It’s not everyday you’d find an angel ballsy enough to do this, right?

You tut at him, clicking your tongue and shaking your head disapprovingly. “Oh, Simeon…” You put on a fake pout, looking at him with pity in your eyes. “Don’t you know better than to do this?”

“Ugh…” Simeon bites his lip. His eyebrows furrow and his mouth creases downwards into a pathetic expression. You continued to stifle your laughter by biting the inside of your cheek. However, you are ultimately unsuccessful and end up bursting into an amused smile and a few breathy chuckles at him. 

When your laughter dies down, you look at him, still holding his chin. “Come now, Simeon.” You smile, winking at him. “All you have to do is ask… If you‘d like another pair.”

Simeon sucks in a breath in shock, and his eyes widen as he looks at you. He suddenly scrambles to his feet, straightening up, his head still bent forward in embarrassment. 

“I-I’m sorry, MC! It won’t happen again!” He swiftly walks past you, not looking at you and barely opening his eyes enough to see, narrowly missing the wall in his rush to leave. You listen to his retreating footsteps and only laugh. Maybe you’d drop by his room later and give him a gift.

Solomon: 

Shameless. But he’s old and barely human. He’s also the worst.

He doesn’t react much besides his initial panicked reaction, which soon melts into mirth, a smug smile appearing on his face. He’s confident, but not that confident. His exaggerated smug smile twitches at the corners and his face remains flushed a deep red. He dramatically clears his throat and smiles coyly, the picture of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “Ah…” He starts, shrugging his shoulders, still smiling, the corners of his lips still twitching. His voice shakes just slightly. “You got me!”

Your face can’t seem to decide if it wants to fall into a disappointed expression at his brazen admission or burst into a fit of laughter at his obvious fear. Instead, it seems to settle on a pitying smirk, and you have to stop it from turning into a full on grin. You sigh and shake your head, not super surprised. 

You approach him, and he visibly stiffens, but his arrogance forces him to stay in place, his confidence crumbling at your certainty. When you stand just in front of him, you hold out your hand, a smug look on your face. “I’ve got you indeed! Hand them over.” Your words are quick and terse, smug smile and knowing look still on your face. Solomon swallows, and looks to the side, gently dropping the panties into your hands. He makes no move to look at you again after that, still facing you but looking away. 

You scoff as you watch him simply stand there. You find it amusing, but you are also dissatisfied at his lack of retorts. You put your hands on your hips and smirk, attempting to provoke him. “Hm. I’d expect a panty thief to be more ballsy. What, cat got your tongue?” Your smug smile only grows and your eyes narrow with mirth. His confidence almost seems to fully crumble under your gaze, and he relents, his blush spreading all across his face. Yet still, he remains silent.

You approach further, your steps slow and deliberately intimidating. He’s rooted to the spot, unable to move, still frantically finding anything to gaze at instead of you. Eventually you stand mere centimeters from him, your body just barely touching his. You smirk at him and lean your head forward, blowing on him before pulling back. He flinches immediately, startled, and bumps into the wall behind him. You giggle at him, thoroughly amused at his frantic nerves. He looks at you pathetically, lips red from worrying at them with his teeth, pupils blown wide, red blush from his forehead to his neck. 

“Aw, don’t look at me like that~!” You tease him, pressing your finger into his cheek. He watches you warily, seemingly at a loss for words. Your lips pull into a wicked smile. “How long has it been, hm?”

Immediately his eyes widen and he stammers out some indignant words, trying to deflect and explain himself. You only laugh at his stammered words, and he eventually stops, worrying at his lips again with his teeth. “Oh, don’t worry, I imagine you have plenty of escapades. But why couldn’t you just ask me?” You tilt your head at him, looking at him with hooded eyes. “Hm? It couldn’t have been that hard to just ask.”

Surprisingly, he only sighs and shakes his head, blush still present. “My dear apprentice, I am only human. Even I still don’t know how to properly act in the face of attraction.” A small, wobbly smile pulls at his lips before he purses his lips again, biting down to stifle any further words. His answer was straightforward, but you can tell he is still nervous. His breathing remains heavy, his eyes are still wide, and he’s still covered in a crimson blush. You laugh again.

Instead of teasing him further, though you really want to, you smile. “Well, now you know. Simply ask, Solomon. I am willing to help you… if you want me to.” You smile before turning away, dropping the panties into your clothes hamper, and starting the wash. It takes Solomon a moment to snap out of it and leave, but he does. You could feel his eyes on you and his magic still lingers in the air.

a/n: *super saiyan yells* thank you for reading waaaaaah! i did my best and im soso sorry if any of these characs are ooc... if they are too ooc i might actually rewrite it fr im so scared :(

anyways as usual feedback is always appreciated, and so are comments, likes, reblogs and asks! (especially asks) please show me your appreciation! i love to know i've done a good job.

@ikevampharem asked to be tagged :3!

[jiminxoxo]

seventeen and their love languages <3

(!!! put as a warning for swearing unless stated otherwise)

choi seungcheol - acts of service + physical touch

so so SO protective oh my god 😭 but his love for you is so pure. no matter how busy his schedule is, he always finds a way to incorporate you. he’ll either make it a point to let you know whenever he’s busy so you’re not waiting up for him or literally tells his manager to pull over when he’s near your house and sprint over to see you for two mere seconds. you say he’s a bit obsessed (of course in a playful way, but also, he really is obsessed) and he always tries to defend himself but eventually let’s himself take the fall. for one, he can never stay mad at you no matter how hard he tries and two, well, you’re you. how can he not be obsessed with you?

“what if i told you i was outside?” he sighs into the phone, kicking a nearby rock and trying his best to bundle himself in this cold cold weather.

“seungcheol?!” you half whisper yet practically exclaim. he’s so unbelievable, but why does it bring the warmest feeling to your cheeks? “what are you doing outside at this time? don’t you have practice right about now?” you place your phone down briefly to wish the leaving customer a good day, only to see your marshmallow of a boyfriend walk in. you make a mental note to thank your lucky stars that there’s no one else on the building.

he’s in his padded jacket with multiple layers underneath. you can barely see his face that’s hidden behind the mask, but the overdramatized outfit is enough for you to tell who it is. it wasn’t that cold out.

“can i get an iced americano?” he pulls the mask down and you chuckle. “and also maybe a date once you’re off work?”

you should be used to this by now. he’s the type of guy to surprise you any chance he gets. “a date?” you repeat, watching as his hand searches for yours from over the counter. he nods, tilting his head the side slightly as if asking you again.

“what do you have planned?” you ask, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. he grins, taking that as a yes.

“i just want to stay in with you today. we don’t have to do anything” he suggests.

you take a second to think, “then nothing it is”

—

“why is seungkwan cursing at you in the group chat?”

“oh my god, you distracted me” he panics, “i forgot to give him his iced americano”

“oh so this is my fault?”

“of course not honey, i love you”

yoon jeonghan - words of affirmation + quality time

jeonghan is such a delight. your love is so young and playful, never losing its fun. he also knows you alarmingly so well. you’re insecure? he’s right by your side and listing his favourite things about you (with an occasional embarrassing fact about himself here and there because he can’t seem to help himself when it comes to making you feel better). you’re annoyed because he pranked you again? he’s playfully looking at you and telling you that you shouldn’t be surprised anymore. you’re roasting him? he probably roasted you first LMAOOO. words of affirmation via soft roasts 👍 but i think no matter how often he may tease you or joke around, he’s never one to take it too far. he’s so respectful of your boundaries and makes it very clear that your feelings are what matter first to him. communication is so important to him (please don’t make me continue cus I’ll start to violently sob)

“they were totally flirting with you,” you mumble, tossing your keys on the counter. scratch that, more like slamming them. you couldn’t seem to help it though. not when your boyfriend couldn’t figure out why exactly you were upset.

“darling they weren’t flirting, they were just being friendly” he reasons after shrugging his jacket off, now fiddling with his watch. normally you’d help him take it off, but you’d rather watch him struggle to unclip it from across the room.

“friendly.” you scoff, finally caving in and helping him take off his stupid watch, actively trying to avoid eye contact with your stupid boyfriend who’s looking at you with a stupid smile—

“are you…. jealous?” he’s grinning.

you roll your eyes, giving him a light shove. “no,”

“you totally are!” he’s practically beaming now. you were never one to get jealous. he figured it was because you trusted him, and you do. but in all honesty, he’s never given you a reason to be jealous. not until today. “you know i never would have even noticed right? i may have been talking to someone else, but you were on my mind the whole time. you have absolutely nothing to worry about, honey. i honestly didn’t even know you could even get jealous considering how loyal i am-“

“shut up,” you mutter, attempting to walk away but ultimately being pulled back to face him once again.

“make me.” he teases, holding up his pinky, “i promise i won’t tell anyone that you were jealous”

“you’re an idiot,” you say, stepping forward into his embrace, to which he happily sways the both of you side to side.

“you’re lucky i didn’t even realize they were flirting with me,” he starts waddling the both of you to the couch, “otherwise i would’ve accidentally exposed our relationship.”

“you totally wouldn’t have,”

“you’re right, i wouldn’t.” he laughs, “i’m saving that announcement for our marriage”

“jeonghan!”

!!! joshua hong - gift giving + quality time

sigh. he doesn’t call himself a gentleman for no reason. dating him is straight up like it’s from a movie. he’s attentive and just overall so respectful to not only you but to your relationship as well. he doesn’t even try to make your relationship seem so picture-perfect, it all just comes naturally. ofc there are gonna be bumps in the road but he’s always going to remind you that he’d rather fight and try to work it out with you than move onto somebody else. he thinks you’re worth every hardship. he allows himself to break down every barrier whenever you're around, just letting him be himself. is he perfect? no. will there be bumps in the road? probably lmao. but will he fight like hell to make sure you know that his heart belongs to you? damn straight.

“it’s rude to stare, you know,” you start, eyes not even leaving the magazine you were flipping through. you could feel his piercing gaze from a mile away.

his chuckle is heard from the other end of the bed as he ventures closer to you, your once comfy position is now maneuvered for the both of you to view the catalogue in your hands.

“staring? more like admiring.”

you roll your eyes, putting the magazine down briefly. his eyes are playful as they stare down at you, while you return his gaze with a really? that’s all you got?

“what? i can’t admire my fiancé?” he sighs while leaning closer to you, never letting himself get tired of that word. fiancé. it just has the best ring to it, especially knowing that you’re his and he’s yours.

“not when they’re trying to decide on something that will make or break the marriage,” you retort, pushing his face that was inching closer to yours away to view the catalogue once again.

“since when did the floral arrangements decide the course of our marriage?” he’s dumbstruck. leave it up to you to keep him on his toes.

“they don’t. i was just testing you to see if you actually cared about what i was looking at.” you’re laughing at the playful look of hurt on his face. “i’m kidding, you’re probably stressing over the flowers more than i am.”

“maybe,” he shrugs, slipping out of your warm embrace. he’s shuffling around the room for a bit, finally deciding to stand beside you with his hands hidden behind him, “or maybe what matters more to me right now is that you like these flowers?” he whips out a bouquet from behind him. how he even managed to sneak them into the room is beyond you.

“oh my god,” you breathe, “fuck the flowers at the reception, this is definitely more important right now.”

“you know, i think you’re the prettiest-“

“if you say i’m the prettiest flower josh, i swear to god the wedding is off.”

wen junhui - quality time + words of affirmation

i think it’s safe to say that I probably had the hardest time figuring out what sort of love language he is. not only is he the literal definition of the word love, but he also just has the purest of souls. this is your world and he is just living in it. the type of guy to raise a boombox over his head outside your window to confess his dying love to you... :( also probably kicks his legs back and forth while texting you or something LMAOOOOOO his favourite moment with you, you may ask? probably when he’s teaching you to dance one of their choreographies. you’re shy and definitely a bit clumsy but he can’t help but he absolutely enchanted by you (and in his words, ‘put hoshi to shame’) just loves the fact that you’re interested in something he loves. it doesn’t take much to make him happy to be honest, so you don’t even have to try. you being there makes him over the moon.

“its late,” you remind him, glancing at the clock on your microwave. “you should sleep now,” you’re on the phone with your boyfriend who’s just flown out of the country and back within the last 9 hours, never mind all the schedules inbetween. anyone would be exhausted.

he’s not complaining though, he never does. if anything, he’d rather stay on the phone with you than rest. “says the person who’s still up, trying to finish the thesis for class.”

you roll your eyes as you finish making your sandwich. he’s got a point, but you’d never admit that. “shut up,” you retort before taking a bite. once you finish putting the ingredients away, you head back to your room.

he’s smiling on the other side of the line, knowing fully well that you don’t have an argument against him. “are you almost done?” he asks, silently signalling a thank you to his manager who was willing to drive him over at this time. he exits the car and makes his way to the entrance of the building. the faster he gets to you, the faster he can convince you to shut your laptop off and head to bed.

he knows you’d never listen to him if he wasn’t physically there beside you. it was exasperating at first but overtime he came to realize that your thick skull actually made your relationship just that much stronger. after all, he drove over just to surprise you, didn’t he?

“almost,” you sigh, adjusting your glasses. “this thesis is a pain in the ass. it’s taken every living cell in my body to not curse my prof out. who assigns a gazillion word thesis and expects it to be done in a day and a half?”

he chuckles, exiting the elevator and heads straight to you apartment. “someone who clearly isn’t scared of your wrath. by the way, can you open the door?”

you halt your typing and stare at your phone placed beside your laptop. surely you didn’t hear him correctly… right?

“yes, i’m really here,” he doesn’t hear you as you hurriedly jump out of your chair, stumbling your way across your apartment. “and.. maybe im a bit tired. so i would really appreciate it if you open the d—“

you’re swinging the door open before he could finish his sentence, “you’re here,” you exhale, accepting him into your embrace.

“always. and i’m also taking you straight to bed. why are you looking at me like that? we’re going to sleep!”

!!! + brief mentioning of alcohol

kwon soonyoung - words of affirmation + gift giving

your very very personal hypeman!! always uplifting you whenever you’re feeling even just a teeny bit insecure. i see him as being a spontaneous gift giver. i mean, have you seen his wardrobe?? will spoil you rotten with the most lavish gifts. that being said, he didn’t get you these gifts for the materialistic aspect, but he just wants you to know that he (pardon me) fucking adores you and wants you to know he will go extreme measures to show you. i think he would have a hard time expressing the right words on how he actually feels about you. (you both can tell he feels a lot, it’s just the matter of how he would form it into words is what he can’t seem to do) but there's one thing for sure, this boy is a SIMP. he is a simp and will admit it to anyone proudly.

if someone were to ask you what the most memorable dates with him were, you’d simply answer with:

sneaking out to your backyard late at night and watching as his eyes glimmer with happiness while lighting the fireworks (and almost getting caught when your neighbour barges out his door, searching for the culprit)

surprising him at one of his tour stops

winding down for the night after a particularly hard day and basking in each others company (technically not a date but hey, it counts)

if he had to answer that same question, his answers would be:

dragging you to the zoo and — ding ding ding! — taking you to the tiger sanctuary

drunkenly singing love songs to each other at karaoke… in front of the rest of the boys

introducing you to said boys

unanimously, it’s decided that your first date is hard to beat in terms of favourites.

he isn’t sure why he had even thought of suggesting to go hiking for your first date but is equally as surprised when you had reluctantly agreed.

the first 40 minute hike up was filled with lots of curses in his direction, to which he blissfully ignores due to the fact that you were holding his hand. how can he pay attention when all of it is zeroed in on the fact that he's telling him brain to not get his hand clammy?

the hike down was unfortunately the problem though. after foolishly suggesting to race down the hill, (he can’t even defend himself at this point) you had agreed, only because you wanted to wipe that smug look off his face. after a moment where you swore you were beating him, you didn’t see a tree branch on the ground and stepped down a bit funny resulting in even more cursing but for a completely different reason.

it was all a blur. him panicking, you clutching your ankle for dear life and him panicking even more after seeing how quickly it was starting to swell. after a quick visit to the ER and a pinky promise to never mention this date to anyone ever, he spent the remainder of the day piggybacking you around all the spots he had still planned for the date.

despite all that though, you had still decided to go on another date with him. hell, you had decided to be exclusive with him.

it was all oddly charming in a way, and you could have never asked for a better date.

hiking is still banned though.

jeon wonwoo - quality time + acts of service

type of lover who is simply there for you with no words needed. a comforting love that's filled with quiet hand holding and blushing as you gaze into each others eyes. he's patient, letting you let out your spur of the moment thoughts while he sits back and admires, constantly thinking to himself that he could never love and adore anyone as much as he does you. his inner extrovertedness definitely comes out when you're around - he allows himself to feel giddy like a teenage schoolgirl falling for her first crush. also, this is my personal opinion - he is very protective over you. if not, the most protective compared to the rest of the boys. 1. you’re his. 2. he doesn’t really like to share. 3. there is no three. sunshine (you) and sunshine protector (him) type beat (get it? because you're his sunshine)

the hype around the first snowfall of the year had always been a bit frivolous to you. as you walk down the rather busy road to head back to your warm apartment, you pass by dozens of couples who are buzzing at the unexpected flakes falling from the sky.

you sigh, thinking of your own lover who would’ve totally agreed with your comment. if someone’s love will last, it has nothing to do with a first snowfall… right?

wonwoo was set to come home in a couple of weeks. that you could tolerate, but the thought of him having to bundle up more than the average person in this specific weather once he’s gets home leaves a pang in your heart. before you know it, your fingers are navigating through your phone to a familiar contact.

you - it’s snowing back home… i hope it’s not too cold where you are

he’s not the best texter, but to your surprise, he replies to your message right away.

him - It’s snowing where I am too.

you let out a snort at his short yet blunt text. again, he’s not the best texter but he definitely tries his best.

pocketing your phone, you turn the last corner you need to, your apartment building now in sight. you figured calling him would be better, but you’d rather do that once you’re settled and comfortable at home.

until it dawned on you.

you - it’s snowing in jakarta right now?

he reads your message but doesn’t respond causing your heart to speed up in pace. there’s absolutely no way.

after practically sprinting to your door, you stop to catch your breath quickly in front of it. it’s okay. you’ll call him and confirm where he is. if he’s home - which you’re trying not to think about too much so you’re not too disappointed if he wasn’t - you’ll bus to where he was. or maybe you could uber?

“hey.” you hadn’t even noticed your door swinging open, revealing your boyfriend dressed in his padded jacket.

you gawk at him, pushing his shoulder with a shout, “i cannot believe you fooled me!”

“i told you we were busy this morning,” he laughs, grabbing your arm to pull you into his embrace.

“busy as in at the airport and on a plane?” he lets out another breathless laugh as you look at him in disbelief, “wait, where are you taking me?”

as you finish your last sentence, he’s already ushering you out a little further and closes the door behind him, leading you to the elevator. “its the first snow,” he says once you’ve finally made it outside. “i know what you’re thinking. the first snow isn’t an accurate representation of how long we’ll be in love, and i know we’ll be in love for a long time, snow or not. but i don’t care, i want to spend it with you.”

you’re not sure if it’s the sincerity of his voice that causes you to blush or the fact that he’s so confident in his feelings. there’s one thing you’re sure of though.

jeon wonwoo is the embodiment of the feeling people get when the first snow happens. an airy sort of feeling, excitement and.. love.

so yeah, it’s kind of hard not to love the first snowfall when wonwoo was with you.

lee jihoon - quality time + gift giving

😭😭😭!! jihoon is just so…… !!!!! definitely has a hard time expressing how he feels about you, but it’s so consuming that he has to let it out somehow. in my eyes, he’s a gift giver (and just lover in general) in the form of music. he’ll do small things like hum certain songs that remind him of you when you’re around to making playlists for your five hour road trip to literally writing a whole album about you (will he ever show it to you? maybe. will he literally spend many hours making it and creating the cover art because he’s just that passionate about your relationship? absolutely.) he gets a bit carried away but he can never seem to help it, he’s absolutely whipped for you, and when he’s in love he’s in LOVE

“one second, wait here” you say, jumping up from your comfy position in front of him and leaving him with a questioning look on his face. you seem a bit eager compared to your previous complaints about being exhausted.

to be fair, he never was one to like celebrating birthdays. he likes to keep the gathering as small as possible (but definitely doesn’t mind the presents). it’s more genuine that way he thinks, him surrounded by all the people he truly loves is something he much rather prefers.

it’s late into the night and probably past his birthday at this point, the two of you just returning from his birthday dinner that was held with some of his dear friends and family. he’s quiet- with a lingering smile playing on his lips- but happy.

after a couple minutes without you retuning, he lets out a small scoff. you’re definitely up to no good. “one second my ass” he chuckles to himself.

he’s about to get up from the bed, but is stopped when a soft light illuminates the room and he’s face to face with your bashful smile.

you’re there. standing in front of him with a cake that was probably made from scratch and softly singing him happy birthday. he can’t seem to bring out any words after you’re done. you’re peering at him and quietly telling him to make a wish, but what more does he need to wish for? he has everything he needs right in front of him. he hesitates for a second but complies, wishing for absolutely nothing to ever change.

he finally understands. he’s sang to you millions of times and you’ve never failed to remind him how much you love his voice. he thought you were just saying that to say it, but after listening to you sing with the softness and comfortability with just the two of you there, he could listen to you sing for hours.

“happy birth- I just realized what time it is. I didn’t really think this through did i? whatever. happy birthday jihoon, I love you” you’re both laughing, love just radiating off one another. this is the best birthday he could’ve ever asked for.

lee seokmin - literally all 5

first off i want to apologize to all the seokmin stans out there because i just know you want to beat me up through the internet right now. he’s just!!! so!!!! lovely!!!! just a ☀️💗💖 type of person. he himself confirmed words of affirmation (surprise surprise) but who is he kidding??? that man is the literal embodiment of all the love languages. he’s always reminding you how loveable you are, especially in the moments where your insecurities are getting the best of you. he will show you love in its purest form, and will never ever let you forget that you mean the world to him.

you can feel his eyes on you as you comfortably sit beside him, placing your legs over his. “so i was thinking,” he starts, tapping his finger on his chin.

oh no. nothing good ever happens when he starts with that. “yes?” you hum, tearing your gaze away from the tv to focus all your attention on him.

“i know you’ve met the members before, but do you think, maybe, i can meet your friends and family and you can meet mine?” he stumbles over a few words and starts playing with your hands to busy himself. “i love you. and honestly, i just want all the important people in my life to meet you and adore you as much as i do.” he pauses before letting out a chuckle, “well, maybe a bit less, because i adore you the most.”

you’re quiet. it’s not that you don’t want him to meet your loved ones because god, of course you do, but how are you supposed to explain that you want to keep him in this little bubble?

this bubble of love and joy. you know it’s selfish, wanting to hide him away from the world and just let the two of you be the two of you. without the judgement of anyone else. dokyeom is a very understanding person and has never once judged you. so why is this so hard to admit to him?

his eyes are patient as they gaze at you. he’s trying to read the expression on your face but it doesn’t seem to work, “of course, if this is something you’re not comfortable with, we can always reintroduce it down the road,”

you shake your head, removing your hand from his to hold his cheek. his eyes close as he leans into your touch. “i’d love to meet your friends and family, seok,” you whisper, connecting your foreheads together, “i was scared at first because i don’t like the thought of people having their assumptions about our relationship but i can see this is really important to you,” you pull back to look at him. he who is looking at you like you could rearrange the stars in the sky. “and i just realized that the only opinion i should care about is ours.”

“you know what? let’s just stay like this for a bit,” his eyes are understanding as he inches a bit closer to you, almost as if he can’t seem to help it, “i want to keep you to myself for a little longer. just you and me.”

“are you sure?” you ask only because his conclusion is so vastly different from his initial proposal. “we’ve been dating for the last couple months and my friends have definitely been nagging at me to meet my boyfriend that I keep talking about”

“i’m sure.” he seals it with a peck to your lips, “besides, your comfortability is what matters most to me. if your friends love you, they’ll understand,” he says, “but they better not love you more than I do…”

kim mingyu - physical touch + words of affirmation (confirmed) + acts of service (confirmed)

two words. puppy. love. he’s just….. so down bad for you, need i say more? if you give him a piece of your heart, he will give you the world type of relationship. with mingyu, there is never a dull moment. constantly laughing with each other and allowing your inner child to heal with him in your presence. is a simp and is PROUD about it... but also tries to deny it? its funny, because everyone knows damn well what kind of lover he is. super sweet, super affectionate, maybe a little immature... you know it, he knows it, his members sure as hell knows it. but the second they try to tease him, he's denying all their allegations. he doesn't really want them knowing that you're his soft spot in human form - after all, they'd just use it to their advantage - but from the way he glances so dotingly at you, is he really fooling anyone?

“is that my hoodie?” he’s grinning as he widens the door just a smidge to lean against the doorframe.

you know he’s getting a kick out of this and you let him have his moment before adding, “gyu, you asked me to wear it,”

he shushes you while taking your arm to guide you in and shutting the door behind you. “thanks for coming,” he softly says and watches as you cross the room to sit on the couch.

again, you let him have his moment before turning to face him with an exasperated look, “well, i figured it was the least i could do after you texted ‘SOS’ to me about a hundred times,”

he lets out a hearty laugh as he sits beside you, completely unashamed of his tactics to get you here. “in all seriousness though,” he rises, presenting his hand in front of your face for you to grab, “i made a new dish to try and i want to know what you think.”

once you join your hands together, he drags the both of you to the kitchen, letting you take a seat while he places the finishing touches to your dish.

he’s watching you as you eat, eyes shining while you continuously compliment him on his culinary skills across the table. getting up, he ditches his food — not that he had even touched his plate in the first place — and ventured around the table, dragging a chair a bit closer in your direction just to plop beside you. he places his arm on the table and rests his chin on his hand, “tell me more,” he quietly murmurs, lifting his free hand to softly brush some hair away from your face.

you gently place your fork down on your plate and grab a tissue to dab your mouth. finding your actions oddly adorable, he moves to wrap his hand around the arm of your chair just to draw you closer. “well,” you start, “you know i love your cooking. you’re so talented, gyu. i don't know how you managed to get these ingredients that are amazing on their own and made them into something special together.”

he beams at your comment. “i think you just described us perfectly,”

you tilt your head, just a little confused on what he meant.

grabbing your hand, he presses a chaste kiss to your palm before lifting it to his cheek just for him to lean on. he closes his eyes, savouring this moment before adding, “great on their own. something special when together.”

-

"can i be the truffle or something?"

"eh, you're more of a raw onion if i had to choose- ow!"

xu minghao - quality time + gift giving (confirmed) + acts of service (confirmed)

don’t even let me get started on this man. he is 100% written by a woman, i cannot stress this enough. the amount of love he would hold for you is ridiculous - there are tears streaming down my cheeks as i write this btw. so in tune with his emotions and probably so attentive to yours as well. i know the words of affirmation and acts of service are confirmed (💔) but i personally feel so strongly about the quality time part. many of your nights consist of just basking in each others presence and just straight serenity. i can’t express into words on how magical your relationship would feel. xu minghao has the most beautiful heart and yours is definitely safe with him.

“do you ever feel like,” you pause as he tilts his head down ever so slightly to gaze softly at you, “i don’t know, that you’re so burnt out and there’s nothing that can help you?”

you’re both laying down in bed with your limbs tangled under the sheets. between both your schedules, it’s near impossible to have moments like these. domestic moments that you’ve come to miss even while he’s beside you right now. it’s the crack of dawn and you’ve only been together like this for mere minutes, it’s never long enough though.

he nods before squeezing you lightly against him. “all the time.” he sighs, “especially when i know that i’m unable to see you for a while,”

“me too,” you agree. your relationship is anything but needy. you both appreciate your independence, but it’d also be a big fat lie if you said being apart from him was a nice feeling. over the years, the two of you had found your ways to make it work, but the longing is always there whenever you’re apart. “when do you have to go?” you ask, leaning over to take a look at the clock behind you.

“did you really have to remind me that our time together right now is super limited?” he teases, softly pulling you back into his embrace.

“when is it not?” you say with a chuckle. you’re only joking and he knows that, but he can’t help but feel guilty as he analyzes you. your mood had definitely gone down just a bit after a moment of silence.

“do you think they’d believe me if i called in sick?” he’s poking at your side to hopefully lighten up the mood. when his attempt is successful and he sees your smile, he mentally gives himself a pat on the back.

“cheol would have your head if you���re late to practice,”

“if i were late to practice, it’s not seungcheol who i would be scared of to be honest..”

you hum while tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “hoshi,” you both say in unison before letting out hushed laughter.

as you settle down, he brushes some hair away from your face, his expression morphing into something more sincere. “thank you for always begging patient with me and my schedule. i feel like i would’ve given up a long time ago if you weren’t around.”

“good thing i’m staying then,” you hum before adding, “watching you do what you love makes me insanely proud. i don’t care about your schedule, even if it allows us only twenty minutes every four days.”

“speak for yourself-“ he’s interrupted when his phone obnoxiously blasts his alarm tone, indicating that your time together is now up. to your surprise, he gets up only to snooze it and goes to lay back down beside you, closing his eyes for a bit.

feeling your questioning gaze on him, he peeks an eye open to look at you and decides to hide himself in the crook of your neck, “hoshi wouldn’t believe me if i said i was sick,” his voice is muffled, but you can hear the mischief in it, “but he’d believe me if i said i slept in.”

boo seungkwan - words of affirmation + gift giving

omfg. this man. not only is he your best friend, but he’s your personal hype man who is somehow still so shy at telling you how much you mean to him. definitely an old couple type of love with your fair share of old couple bantering. i think it’s quite adorable. man,,,,, HES adorable 😭😭😭 the type of gift giver where he can think of the most obscene reason on why you have to have it. a random bottle opener? pretty sure yours broke seven months ago. a backpack? this one has a tangerine charm on it!!! definitely gets defensive when you tell him to save his money and yet throws the biggest fit when you get him something nice in return. prepare to lose every playful argument the two of you have, that unless, he lets you win (never admitting the fact that he is so down bad that he’d do anything to see you with that winning smile)

seungkwan definitely likes to catch you by surprise, especially after his visits to his hometown.

he’s unloading his suitcase in your shared bedroom having just returned from his trip back home for the weekend. the glow on his cheeks is something truly special, and you have the pleasure of seeing it while he raves of his time back in jeju.

“so my mom made me haul this large bag of tangerines over to you.” he says, a little disapprovingly at that. the more you think about it, the more that you think the act of gift giving may run in his family. “wanna share?”

you scoff, snatching the bag he was holding to hide behind your back. “you’ve had enough tangerines in your lifetime. this bag is mine.”

eyes wide, he points an accusing finger in your direction. “you wouldn’t have that if it weren’t for me!”

sticking out a finger of your own, you start running before he could catch you, knowing how riled up he could get. your attempt to run is sadly not fast enough since he’s already latched onto you and poking jabs at your most ticklish spots. he can’t help but laugh along, drinking up the noises bubbling out of your chest.

-

“thank you for the bag of tangerines. seungkwan said you made him haul a huge bag just for me.” you say to his mom over the video call, watching as her warm smile morphs into a knowing one.

“honey, i may have gotten him to bring them to you, but it was all him.”

you blink, turning your face to look at his sleeping figure. tomorrow would be back to reality for him. you had suggested that him sleeping early tonight would be best since it wasn’t necessarily something he had the luxury of doing everyday. he put up a fight at first; insisting that he wanted to spend more time with you, but it’s not even ten minutes later when you see him snoozing away after you had slipped out of the room to fetch him some tea.

“all him?” you repeat.

“the day he was set to leave, he woke up extra early to beat everyone to the market. he’ll deny it if you ask, but i know he went to pick the best ones for you. i may have suggested for him to bring a couple, but he insisted on filling a large bag since they’re your favourite.”

you blink again, not expecting the sudden confession.

“he loves you, you know.” she softly adds, watching you through the screen as you tenderly gaze at her son. “there wasn’t one day where he didn’t talk about you.”

what she doesn’t know, is that you watch as a light blush dust his cheeks. stroking his hair, you glance back to the screen, knowing seungkwan would’ve been too shy to say anything if he were awake so you let him believe the thought of you thinking he was still asleep.

you’re proven wrong when his hand gently grabs yours, giving it a tight squeeze. an action that is worth a thousand words.

!!! vernon chwe - quality time + words of affirmation

being in a relationship with this man is probably the most secure relationship you will ever be in, no if ands or buts. not only is he literally just the chillest mf to ever live, he also enjoys life to the fullest. activities with him could literally vary by the hour depending on his mood. vernon is always reminding you to be grateful for what you have, (cue him constantly telling you how thankful he is for you and how you mean so much to him). the two of you would absolutely have a best friend sort of relationship, and he just adores it.

there’s a comfortable silence between the two of you as he drives you home from the small gathering you both attended. he’s softly humming, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel every so often and you— well, you’re watching him. not in a hey-i’m-a-creeper way but more of a hey-i’m-actually-so-whipped-for-you sort of way.

his eyes are glued to the road but he knows. he has to know. you’re just sitting there blatantly staring at him but he makes no sign of uneasiness. in fact, he reaches blindly for your hand after a bit, using your intertwined hands to drum the middle console.

he’s cranking up the volume with a lopsided smile the second he hears your laughter, just in love with the fact that it’s so easy to make you happy. having nothing but the smallest clue that what really is making you happy are these little moments with him.

“really?” you’re snickering as soon as the next song plays. “baby by justin bieber?”

“yeah, really.” he glances at you for a second before returning them back on the road, his hand giving yours a light squeeze. “what, it’s not in your love songs playlist?”

“isn’t this song about his partner not loving him back?” you’re now on your phone, analyzing the lyrics that are indeed about his broken heart.

vernon on the other side is left speechless. how is he supposed to move on from the fact that his number one love song is actually not a love song? he’s probably sang it hundreds of times and half the time, you were there right beside him singing with him. his best memories lie with this song.

what the hell is he supposed to do now?

“don’t worry baby,” of course you call him that at a time like this. “we can still sing this at karaoke to each other while your voice cracks every so often”

“hey!” he lets go of your hand to point a playful finger at you, “i’ll have you know, i was singing an adlib that was out of my vocal range and my voice has only cracked once.”

you roll your eyes, not even attempting to fight back with him. in the years the two of you have been dating, by now you know better than to get him heated over (arguably) the greatest hit of the early 21st century.

“it’s okay,” he says after another short minute of silence, listening as the song rolls to an end and grabbing your hand once again, “we’re nothing like this song, right?”

you grin, “not even in the slightest.”

thank god.

lee chan - physical touch + acts of service (confirmed)

literal definition of young love. this man no doubt will always keep you smiling and laughing (like literally his first instinct when he sees that you’re upset is to make you smile, he can’t bear it when you’re sad). it’s also the way he says his love language is writing???? yup you’ll never hear from me again lmao. its refreshing to think that he would most definitely try to win you over using old-school tactics. walking to your door on your first date and meeting your parents briefly (who by the way, probably love him more than you do). chan is definitely a person with soooo much love to give and never EVER let’s you forget that it’s all yours to have. </3

it’s official, you hate your home. okay, maaaaybe that’s a small stretch..

you hate that your home is thousands of miles from your boyfriend.

after returning home from the tear filled car ride from the airport, you trudge your way across your apartment, not even bothering to clean up the mess that was left behind a couple hours prior. it’s where you and chan had made your last breakfast for a while together, and the thought of it made a new wave of tears fill your eyes.

as you head to your room, you find yourself catching small glimpses of your boyfriend and the mere memories he left here. how is it fair that he managed to squeeze his way into your heart and is able to take a little bits and pieces every time you’re apart? cheesy, you think, but true.

after reaching your room, you notice an envelope on top of your neatly made bed. it’s weird, because you definitely recall not having the time to make your bed this morning… oh chan. you let out a shaky sigh and pick it up, mentally preparing yourself for what’s about to come.

Hi my bunny, I hope you’re doing okay.

By the time you see this, I’m probably boarding my flight. This never gets easier, does it? I miss you already.

In the two years that we’ve been together, I’ve felt nothing but happiness but also have never experienced such heartbreak. I hate seeing you cry and I hate missing you. But most of all, I hate the distance. No matter how hard it gets, loving you is the easiest thing about all of this and loving you is worth it.

We’ll be together again sometime soon and I hope the thought of that is enough for you to keep going because it definitely is for me. I can’t wait for the day where we don’t have to worry about the stupid distance anymore, where we can just love each other and not think about anything else.

You’re my favourite person and the absolute light of my life. I can’t wait to have you in my arms again.

I love you I love you I love you.

Yours, Chan

damn it, you wipe your tears messily and hug the letter close to your heart, allowing yourself to let out a small sob. maybe you don’t hate your home after all. in fact, you love your home. he’s your home.

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

$$$ Venus In The House: Divine Feminine Qualities & It's Natural Flow State - $$$

Venusian energy is the divinity we need to evolve in our sensuality, our grace, and our goddess frequency. I would like to express my feelings on the beautiful energy that is Venus, and how she highlights our beauty in miraculous ways. Wether shes in the first, the 6th, or the 12th, your divine sensuality can be a force once you recognize where it prospers and truly forms itself. Here are my thoughts on each of the houses and how you can absorb the magic that is Venus herself.

Venus in the First: Your persona, your aura, and your walk is the most important when strengthening your venus. You should be able to look in the mirror and feel truly yourself, of course we have some bad days, however your magic comes in handy when you use those bad days to make your presence known. Bad bitches never allow you to see them at their worst, and you shouldn't either. Allow your sweetness, your charm, and your grace to alam the senses of others to move mountains for you. That is your gift.

Venus in the Second: Your materials come first, not second. This is where you feel the most comfort. Your style, your bed, your pretty vases on that new table you just bought shows us your aesthetic. Your persona is covered in your space. You don't feel your best when you're not spending money. In fact, the more you embrace this desire for it in your life, the more it can come to you. Don't feel scared to let people know what you need from them, your giving qualities is one of your gifts, but it can bring difficulties dealing with some fleas. Be careful who you let in to your world, most can never enter the kingdom unless you let them.

Venus in the Third: Life isn't worth living if you cant express it through your words. Your essence is felt through your love of writing, the way you learn things, trying something new and exploring the little things. The divine feminine in you needs to see the world as one big photograph with you taking the photo. You see the prettiest versions of yourself through the way you move on to different horizons. Whether its a new city or a new coffee shop you're appreciation for what life brings you strengthens your bond with the universe and so much more.

Venus in the Fourth: Your divine feminine traits show in your passionate yet nurturing qualities. Home and family is where you deeply connect to yourself and your roots. The internal self shows us that beauty is so much more when you just realize the importance of who we truly are. Yes, the 4th house is about family but it is so much more than that. Your drive and imagination is a gift sent from your bloodline and you use it to create a home that is both magical and sensual. The divine femininity in you deserves to be treated well so boundaries around friends, family and people who are dear to you is a necessity. They must fill you up in some way in order to be filled with your grace. After all your magic blesses them. Be more open to escaping in a world that is located inside of you. Most people would desire to see this side of you but won't have the capacity to even engulf every bit of sweetness you carry in your temple. As this is the fourth house, the moons natural house, your emotions are in need for an outlet. Don't be afraid to express how you feel about something. This is how you get to master them, as it is connected to your feminine qualities.

Venus in the Fifth: The artist. The Actor. The Charmer. You enjoy a life of leisure and need it more than anyone else. Your romance life is in your hands, as you typically have the right to call the shots since you are the moment. You are literal royalty and you have to behave in a way that shows regal qualities because people respect that about you. Superstar energy is prominent here as this is a leo house, so you do have to be more boastful about yourself than most. Creative energy is constantly flowing and needs an outlet. This is your super power. Be more kind to yourself because your more prone to get depressed if you are not using your light in its full form. Your divine feminity expresses itself in your favorite hobbies, the way you look, and the way you appreciate art. In dating, you get the best of the best when you keep your standards high. In the movies, you'd be the person that everyone wants. Thats how life could be if you just allow the flow of venusian energy to move through you.

Venus in the Sixth : Your divinity comes out through balancing the mind. Creating a routine and having something going for yourself keeps you in focus on what you need and your desires can come through more effortlessly. You guys are natural students, but you are also teachers as well. Do not shy away from this gift because we need you. You attract people with your mind and intellect, and you must have boundaries on who you give certain knowledge too. You should also be okay with holding space for yourself in the work space because your health is prone to go through imbalances if the work environment is not for you. The way you care for yourself heightens your sensuality. Need new clothes? get em? new glasses and contacts? need to fix your teeth? some health problems? get it done. your health determines how much your sensual energy is. Pick your environment wisely, choose a good routine with affirmations that'll do it.

Venus in the Seventh: Charmer charmer charmer. You babes honestly get to choose some really good partners. Your gift is in the way you see yourself. This is the mirror house. Where people merely express the internal reality of the self. How you see yourself is what you get from others. However some people just cant help themselves, they don't know what to do with it when your vibe walks in the room. They cant handle it. Your divine feminity grows stronger when you see yourself as beautiful. It can only go up from there. You have to know yourself better than anyone. This could be a challenge because it may not 'feel' like this sweet gorgeous energy is yours but it is babe. Also, you have the gift of making people feel more about themselves when your near em. Just you flirting with someone can make anyone's day. And you being in the room just makes the energy feel better. You shift the room with your grace, sensuality and ethereal qualities. Use it. It might opens some doors for you to get that ideal love ;)

Venus in the Eighth House: Tremendous energy and power with this placement. Your gift is in shaking the table with your magic. Your ethereal qualities shine a lot on all our darkness. The mysteries you seek bring us to our knees. You can see the world in us but we cannot see it in you, that's why we love you so much. We just have to beg for it, because who doesn't want an empress telling them what they want to hear? Literally a goddess of fantasy. You mastered this in a past life, did u? ;) Your mystique is what we love about you and if everyone knew too much about you it would be deadly. The world wants to have you but they gotta charge for it babe, don't hesitate giving them a little but making them pay more. They dont mind ;)

Venus in the Ninth House: The beautiful philosopher. Your energy is so magnetic here. A lust for life and to grow in knowledge is what brings you to God. The divine feminine in you shows in ways that the mind could not fathom. You were created to be the muse that made Aristotle write his most profound work. Your light shines when your more intune with your beliefs and how you view society, life, and the journey ahead. Also luck favors you, when you express your divinity here in this house, you can achieve a lot of favor by just embracing what you feel about your ideas. You could also attract lovers from all walks of life and they'll proceed to win your hearts because your aura isn't just the only thing that caught their attention. Its your mind. Be more cautious when you're on road trips or going on voyages in the water. Your prone to accidents with this placement (just be careful). Don't be afraid to share your viewpoints with people because it helps us flow into new perspective with our own minds.

Venus in the Tenth House : A grand placement. Divine feminine energy flows better in this house. It's the house of being in the spotlight which venus clearly loves. Remember you are deserving of being seen and known for your beauty, your gifts and what you love. You can easily be a heartthrob here and no matter what you do people will love you. Your divine feminity flows when you just let go and allow others to give you attention. It flows when you allow people to see your light. When you operate in your goddess frequency people just cant help to want more. You're ability to lead is your finest quality. They'll worship the ground you walk on if you just let them. Be kind to others and you will see the world reflect that kindness back to you. Ok ;) Muah <3

Venus in the Eleventh House: Goals. Friends. Organic Connections. Philosophy. Pioneers & Humanitarians. That's the work of an eleventh houser. Through this placement, your divine feminine flows through allowing groups and organizations to come into your life. You need satisfaction with real life and growing as a community. Being filled with a purpose is what connects you to your feminine energy. Make sure you have friends who see the beauty in you the same way you see it in yourself. Have boundaries over your aura because you're not mother theresa and if they cant see you for you versus what you do for em they need to get out ! Have connections that help you flourish and see you as the butterfly that you are.

Venus in the Twelfth House: The mystic. The Oracle. The Dreamer. The muse. The cosmic creator. This is your divine feminine. Your magic comes through your imagination and your inner-child. You are the creator of your life and this is a remarkable placement for venus. The hidden house doesn't show its mystery to people, so you attract people like bees to honey. Divine feminine qualities must be expressed through closely connecting to outside, nature & rivers could be a theme for you because it connects you to the surface and helps you lean towards mastering your gifts. 12th house is the floaty house so it'll be easy to doze off and go back to that magical house you call your brain. Your connection to the universe naturally calls you to be a healer, so not everyone can get a taste. Embracing your truth is how you move the divine feminine to work in your favor. Creative outlets like painting can be a powerful expression for your emotions, which is a stellar way to morph your energy into where and what you want it to be. You have the power to move people with your sensual grace, so don't try to tame it. This energy should be left to be free as it was made to be formless.

[wherevenusholdssomeofficespace]

Linda Flynn-Fletcher

I think Linda Flynn-Fletcher is potentially one of the most misunderstood characters in the show.

It think comes from a natural enough place. Her role in the show is of course, to act as the potential threat to their summers of fun. While they boys never see her as a threat, narratively she's the big bad. If she sees it, its game over.

Here's the thing though. She's a not a bad mom. Her children LOVE her. Similarly to how Phineas and Ferb absolutely adore Candace and would do nearly anything she asked, Phineas, Ferb and Candace all love and respect their mother and don't disobey her. Now a bit of this is clearly Linda being a more permissive parent, but any rules that Linda has Phineas and Ferb never do anything to disobey their mother. While I wouldn't be surprised if there were one or two instances where Candace disobeyed her mother willfully, the closest I can think off off hand is Candace not doing a bunch of chores that she was supposed to do. Really, the fact that all her kids love her, shows how much all her kids feel loved in their household. And I think that's super important. Candace wrote a song about how much she feels loved by her mom, even if her mom is dismissive of Candace. But she still goes with Candace to see what the boys are up to even if she doesn't believe it. She sets boundaries on how often Candace can bust the boys sure. But she hasn't forbidden Candace from doing it altogether. Nor does she punish Candace for presumably lying?

At MOST Linda will say something like: "let's get you out of the sun" after a failed bust. The worst of it I think is probably the time Linda made her promise not to try or suffer the Pharaohs curse. Which, was just some guy in a Pharaoh costume telling Candace curse you. Linda goes out of her way to read books to try and deal with her daughter. She and Candace still clearly hold a lot of affection for each other and do spend a decent amount of mother daughter time together. Linda gives books to her daughter, tries to direct her to other activities, and finds her sleep busting cute, and sometimes goes out of her way to do activities her daughter wants to do with her. All things considered Linda is REALLY patient about Candace's busting. Could she be doing more to get to the bottom of why Candace is presumably acting out? Sure. But Doofensmirtz could also be doing a better job of listening to his daughter and not insulting her (or do we not remember why Vanessa wears earbuds around the house) but we all call him a really good dad.

A LOT of shows have kids hiding a secret from a parent for one reason of another. But while the crux of the show rests on Linda not knowing what her sons are doing, its not because its a secret. The boys aren't hiding it from her. The boys genuinely believe she knows. Lawrence genuinely believes she knows. Candace is the only one in the family who really grasps the situation.

Linda's ignorance, her disbelief of the wild shenanigans that her children get into is easily mistakable for normality. For representing the oppressive day to day. The same thematic antagonist as school. A mom who wants whats best for her kids, and thinks that whats best for them is them being normal, without realizing what's really best for them. After all why else we saw what would happen if she found out in Quantum Boogaloo. But the fact of the matter is aside from that one future (which also featured an effectively evil leader in Doofensmirtz, and therefore implies more factors at play than just Doofensmirtz and Linda's characters), we don't really know how it would play out in the long term. Future Linda even just kinda moves on after discovering the truth.

Linda is exactly like her kids. She just does the same things on a less physics breaking scale. The woman has like 37 different hobbies. She takes a cooking class, donated an art sculpture, is part of a jazz group. She has a background in astrophysics. She was a pop star. She won a meatloaf contest. She takes french lessons. The fact that Linda has several hobbies is part of the reason the formula works at all. Linda is constantly trying new things which gets her out of the house, while her sons are trying their own new things. Her absence is what prompts Candace to have to go looking for her. Also, What Do It Do when the moment Linda gets put in Candace's position she acts the exact same way.

Also it's why she and Lawrence are so compatible. They have a lot of weird hobbies they spend together. She likes Lawrence's history references. They watch car racing together. They went spelunking together. They go bowling regularly enough to have equipment. She has played the bagpipes while Lawrence danced (which sidenote: do you think she taught Candace how to play the bagpipes?).

Not to mention her extended family. Think about it. Her mom was a competitive roller derby skater who once bit a skate and shook it like a dog with a chew toy and pulls elaborate pranks with her identical twin. Really she's a lot like Candace with her aggressive passion. Her dad apparently won a balloon race, but tells the story in the most straightforward way possible, sometimes very oblivious, but is overall a lot like Phineas. Her sister is an adrenaline junky. And back to Quantum Boogaloo for a minute: Her granddaughter is just like Candace, Grown up Candace is a lot like Linda. Do you not see the implications!!?!?!? LIKE???? DO YOU NOT REALIZE THAT LINDA WAS PROBABLY A LOT LIKE CANDACE AND PHINEAS WHEN SHE WAS YOUNGER?!!?! YOU THINK IT SKIPPED A GENERATION OR SOMETHING???

Do you think Linda used to complain about Tiana??? Do you think Linda thought her family was weird and was embarrassed by them??? Do you think Linda ever called herself the only mature/normal member of her family?? LIKE CANDACE DOES????

Anyway, Linda is just like her family. Sure, she is RELATIVELY more normal, but that's relative, and probably simply because the universe bends itself around to keep her from knowing. Linda literally cannot find out about the real nature of her universe. Linda is just a grown up version of her children, seeking to make the most of each day, but within the bounds the universe has set upon her, both as an adult woman and mother, but also in the laws of physics expected of her. But she still makes the most of her life. You don't have to build a roller coaster to make the most of each day and all that.

I think if Linda is representing anything its that even parents can have rich fulfilling lives. Where they make the most out of each day. Having fun with your life doesn't stop with adulthood. Even if you have more responsibilities doesn't mean you can't have fun? Sure childhood is something you can't get back but growing up isn't inherently bad either?

[neverendinglabyrinth]

Analyzing 35 Portland Row:

Back at it with my set decoration posts, but lets overanalyze 35 Portland Row, shall we?

I love the way most of the house seems untouched, like it was frozen in time. Presumably, Lockwood never really "redesigned" the home from its original state, maybe a couple of changes here and there (which are more noticeable as we move on to other rooms) I say this, because of the contrast between pristine and messy in the areas.

The entryway:

I assume that the perspective pictures were taken as a way to assess how the set was going to look, in perspective 1 you can see the pillows on the bench missing, and in perspective 2 the clothing rack/hanger are completely missing.

On screen, we see that contrast I was talking about, you can see the way the clothes are almost stacked on that clothing rack (we can see George's coat, for example) I regard this as the kids respecting the space, since it is Lockwood's house they, most likely, don't want to trash it with their personal mess (or maybe George is the one that sets the 'mess-boundaries' to lighten the cleaning work).

On the other side of the spectrum we see the neat decorations and respected vases (respected as in, not using them as holders or trash bins) and the well cleaned masks and antiques hanging on the wall.

The Living Room:

This room is the "look how professional and neat we are" room, it is (by far) the cleanest one of them all, here is where they receive people and it is evident that they don't use it much by themselves, I know this because of the alarming lack of books laying around. I promise you, in Portland Row there are books EVERYWHERE.

Proof:

(these are just from the first couple episodes)

The Library:

I would argue that this is the "let's talk" room of the house, because it's the place where all of the information is. This is the room with the most "Lockwood flare", plus it's the perfect place for me to talk more about the messiness contrast.

In the scene where Lucy goes to talk to Lockwood, she has an apple core in her hand and this madwoman sets it ON THE TABLE (outrageous) but she looks for a spot where she wont ruin the table OR the books beside it. THE SELECTIVE MESS, PEOPLE! And Lockwood doesn't care, he just smiles, thankful.

Also there's a piano on the corner. (Hey! Locky, play Piano Man!)

The Kitchen:

Lockwood & Co's kitchen my beloved <3

By far my favorite room of the house, it is so cozy! From the spice rack, to the pot holders, to the kitchen utensils, the DETAILS. I'm in love, I love it.

And of course, the thinking cloth. The kitchen is the heart of Portland Row 35. And the crumbs on the table mean the world to me. LIKE DO YOU GET IT? DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE SIMBOLYSM OF CRUMBS ON THE TABLE?

I love kitchens, and I love set decor. That's all I have to say.

The Rooms:

Last sections of me nerding out about set decor, I promise!

Lockwood's Room:

It's safe to assume that Lockwood doesn't spend much time in his room, so it stays mostly neat. Probably only in use when he's sleeping or getting changed, and most of his time is spent in the library or in the kitchen with the others.

Lucy's Room:

Okay, this room is a set decor work of art. Why? Well, because it is a prime example of a characters personality shining through in a new space.

Not only does it show what it was before (a storage attic) but it also shows what it is now (a personal room) AT THE SAME TIME! You can see the way Lucy organizes everything contrasted with the way it was laid out before.

(look at the shopping bags she was carrying when talking to Kipps beside the bed, CONTINUITY!)

George's Room:

One thing about George is that he is way too excited about The Problem to care about actually cleaning and organizing his own room.

I think that his room is a physical representation of how his brain works. Books on the floor, papers stacked over anything, post it notes on the wall. You can just see the way his brain jumps from one thought to the other by the way his room is laid out!

The set decorator credits: JUDE FARR

So that's it! Im sure i missed a couple of things so if you want to add your observations, please do! And if i made any mistakes or incorrect assumptions I apologize, i am by no means and expert, I just like the subject.

[askdeoxys]

Community PSA

[ This is only part of the full PSA (including evidence) which you can find here ]

Content Warnings

Grooming, Victim blaming, Harassment, Sexual abuse, Suicide / Self-harm mention, Emotional / Mental abuse mention

Introduction

Some of you may know about the PSA that circulated a few months ago regarding The-House-of-Hemingway’s relationship and unacceptable sexual interactions with someone who was a minor. Hemingway now goes by C-a-l-y-p-s-o. This post will discuss the details of the PSA, as well as this user’s concerning past and present behavior. 

To the best of the ability of those responsible for this document, the username will continually be updated so that this person cannot interact with members of this community again without disclosing who they are, regardless if the interaction is safe-for-work or not.

The following post is intended to bring awareness to someone who is

Confirmed to be a groomer.

Attempting to convince members of the pokeask community that they have “changed” but is clearly trying to win favor with you.

A risk to the community, cannot be safely trusted, and needs to exit community spaces.

Disclaimers 

Harassment of Calypso in any form is unacceptable behavior. The purpose of this post is to inform. This is not a call for hostile action beyond a block on every social media possible. 

Please respect the victim’s boundaries and do not badger them for further details than what has been disclosed. While disagreement and discussion is OK, please keep your comments outside of tumblr and public discord servers. 

If harassment occurs, the names of any individuals who dogpile, send death threats to, or doxx those involved with this situation will also be listed (with concrete evidence only) on this document. 

TL;DR

Tumblr user @C-a-l-y-p-s-o, previously known as the mod behind the pokeask blog “house-of-hemingway,” is a confirmed groomer who has deleted their admission of guilt to save face.

Calypso has violated a boundary that is expected between a victim and an abuser by leveraging themselves into positions of authority (server moderators, event leaders, etc.)

Calypso has broken promises made to their peers over the course of their internet presence, changing names and website profiles/identities in order to escape the responsibility for their actions.

Calypso is attempting to fall back into good graces by sending copy-pasted positivity asks on mundays to sweep their notoriety under the rug. 

This document will contain proof of the above in exhaustive detail under the “readmore”, or if you are viewing this in the public google document form, it will be under the resources.

We are using this as an opportunity to take a firm stance against grooming in the community, and to express our support for survivors. Our goal is to address the circumstances under which it happens with preventive guidelines and trauma-informed resources.

Resources & Education

What does grooming look like? A quick guide written by survivors of abuse within the Pokeask community:

The adult may not approach you with the intention of grooming you. 

The objective of grooming is for an adult to turn their bond with a minor into a transactional relationship; circumstances in which the minor is providing something for them— whether that be emotional support or sexual gratification— and normalizes breaking boundaries to do so.

Though they may not realize they are blurring or overstepping your boundaries, the effect is still the same; they are desensitizing you to unfair and inappropriate treatment.

Many adults deal with mental illness, go through hard times, and struggle with loneliness. If you’re acquaintances or friends, you naturally might want to support them, “fix” their problems, or do them favors because they’ve been nice to you or because they’re not being malicious.

But ultimately, prioritizing their wellbeing compromises your own, well-meaning or not. That is what an imbalanced power dynamic looks like, and it is up to the adult to realize this, acknowledge it, and seek out other outlets, resources, people, and help available to them. 

A responsible adult does not take advantage of your availability when given the opportunity to do so over other appropriate choices, no matter what. 

The adult may expect you to be available at all times.

Guilt-tripping when you do not respond to their messages, spamming your DMs, or demanding that you spend most of your online time with them. 

Making time for them might mean you end up spending less time with your friends and become distant from others in your social circle. 

A red flag to look for is if they call you their “best / closest friend” over other adult relationships in their life.

The adult may put the burden of their mental health or well-being on you. 

This can include constant venting / oversharing, validation seeking, or coming to you when they are in a mental health crisis. This can happen in private dms or in public servers. 

Remember, no one individual is responsible for managing a loved one’s mental health, and it is not OK to expect a teenager to intervene when someone is threatening suicide or self-harm. That is for a trained professional to handle.

The adult may invite you into unmoderated spaces with other adults. 

They might have “lighthearted” conversations with you or in front of you about sexual content, flirt with you, share explicit images / memes where you can see them, ask to role-play erotic scenarios with your ocs, or draw NSFW / suggestive art of your ocs / sona. 

Red flags to look for are adults telling you that you are mature for your age, asking you to keep their interactions with you a secret, or interacting inappropriately with you in voice call so that there is no chat log of what they’ve said.

You do not owe your followers or fans your attention if you feel uncomfortable.

A friendship between two artists or between you and a fan of your work should not involve any pressure to reciprocate gift art, respond to asks, or role-play.

If someone crosses your boundaries based on a perceived parasocial relationship with you, or makes you feel guilty for not interacting with them, you are in your full right to block them.

If you suspect an ask is a covert fetish, such as asking you to draw an overly specific subject or situation, report them to an adult in the community.

Similarly, if someone you are a fan of is crossing your boundaries, take a step back to evaluate whether you would be OK with it if they were not someone you admire. 

Just because someone is popular, skilled at art, widely respected, or well-liked does not give them the right to treat you in the ways listed above. 

Listen to your gut; if you feel uncomfortable or unsafe, but are doubting your feelings because you look up to the person you’re interacting with, take a step back and tell someone you trust. No friendship is worth being treated this way.

If you suspect you were groomed in the past, or are wondering if a relationship you have with an adult is inappropriate, please look through the information linked in this section. Hotlines, counseling and self-help resources for survivors are listed here as well. 

List of Hotlines by Country | 1, 2 

Global Online Image (CSAM) Removal | 1, 2

Education & Resources | UK, CA, AUS, US (eng, esp)

Online Image Removal | UK, CA, AUS

LGBT+ Specific | UK, CA, AUS, US

BIPOC Specific | UK, CA, AUS, US

United Kingdom

Crisis Support & Counseling (Email, Phone, Text, Video Call; Eng & BSL)

Canada

Counseling (Phone, Text; Eng, Fr, Indigenous languages, Other languages, ASL)

Crisis Support (Phone; First Nations responders available)

Australia

Crisis Support & Counseling (Phone, Text, Other; Several languages available; Aboriginal responders available; Auslan)

United States

Crisis Support & Counseling (Phone, Text, Other; Several languages available; Indigenous responders available; ASL)

About the bill to pressure American corporations to remove reported CSAM from their websites

Coming forward about abuse can be re-traumatizing and difficult, but it can also be healing and liberating— It allows for a survivor to be in charge of their narrative and to lead the conversation surrounding their trauma. 

Sometimes, it takes years to recognize trauma or past abuse, let alone to be ready to publicly talk about it. It is validating to finally be able to say, “This happened to me. I survived it. I deserved better.” to the world. 

Trauma follows us for a long time. No matter how much time has passed, a victim has the right to disclose their abuse and hold their abuser accountable. It is our responsibility to listen. https://metoomvmt.org/

Full PSA with evidence continued here...

[sepublic]

The Collector’s story is so sad to me because they really do try!!! They are putting in the effort to be better!!! They defy the other collectors’ policy of imprisonment and genocide, for the sake of the Titans! They go along with Philip’s plans, giving him the draining spell and a bunch of other magic! And they listen to King’s Owl House rules, they’re gradually adjusting their behavior according to his advice, respecting his boundaries, even letting him get away with Eda and Lilith!

He’s learning. He really is doing all he can to improve, he’s listening. But the Collector isn’t doing it fast enough, they haven’t figured it out quickly; So it feels like for the adults and everyone else around them, they don’t want to put in the effort to teach and rehabilitate this kid. That’s too long and arduous, it’s much easier to stick him in a prison and hide it, or even kill the kid.

The Collector invests so much good-faith effort into changing for people, but those around him? They don’t want to reciprocate the same effort to understand him in return, that’s how it feels. They demand so much but give nothing back, use the Collector. And would rather take the easy route of punishing the kid to make him shut up for their convenience, instead of really working to talk with him at his level, and explain how to get better. There’s this silent, genuine, hurt and confused question echoing from the Collector; “What did I do wrong?”

It really does feel like one big metaphor for neurodivergent kids, and children in general, who are seen as misbehaving troublemakers. And rather than taking the time to understand their perspectives, and communicate to them about the problem, adults would rather just hit them until they’re quiet.

Because it’s easier, more convenient that way, like sweeping dust under the rug. Even if it just makes this kid who IS willing to improve feel neglected, unappreciated; Allows their problems to fester untouched and unseen, until it boils over and explodes later in life. And suddenly adults are all shocked because He was such a quiet, obedient kid, who could’ve seen this coming?!

The Collector feels like the collective wrath of so many kids who were treated like inconveniences to deal with, rather than growing children who needed help and guidance. And boy is the Collector messy about it, because they’re tired of playing by other people’s rules and trying to appeal to them with good behavior, in exchange for compassion, because that clearly hasn’t worked out and never will.

They are every child who has asked Why about a rule, and instead of being treated like a person with an honest need to know, was just told Because I said so. They want to get it, but people just prefer them being blindly subservient; People don’t care what the Collector thinks, so why should he feel the same for their judgment? The kid is panicked when he insists King focus on the revision he made to the storybook, the lesson he learned, but he’s still being put away for what others wrote.

“You can trust me” is something Philip and King have both told them, and maybe that parallels how adults insist children follow their seemingly arbitrary rules even without knowing why, because “It’s the rules” and authority dictates all. So after struggling under that command, of course the Collector is eager to be the one wielding it this time, with his rules...

The rules of a game. The rules of behavior. Both are laws dictated for people to follow, with someone often deciding and being able to change them as they see fit, especially with childrens’ playground games. Life is a big game and the Collector wants to play his own, after all this time following others’ rules; His people’s, the Titans’, Philip’s, and finally King’s.

There’s a lot to be said about how we expected the Collector to have been someone who didn’t play by any rules, did whatever he pleased. But it might just be the opposite, the kid has never had true freedom, always subject and listening to what someone else tells them, because they’re in charge or it’s the moral thing to do. They’ve been imprisoned their whole life, literally even, and now their desire for agency has burst free.

The Collector wasn’t the god of chaos we thought they were, but now they will be and we’ve seen why; It’s not because there weren’t any rules for them, it’s because there were too many, and the more you tighten your grip, the more something slips free. Too much authority, too little, the kid needs a proper balance of contradictory lessons, like so many in this show...

[stinkrascal]

TRANSCRIPT

picture 1 Lilith: Aren't you going to wake her? Caleb: No, let her wake naturally. She's exhausted. She should rest.

picture 2 Caleb: [ yawns ] She's got no fuel. Reckon I get more energy drinking a frog from a straw. This one feels in her throat, she does. I got phlegm in my neck. It's awful.

picture 3 Lilith: You can still feel her? Caleb: Some people linger. I don't know why.

picture 4 Lilith: Did you find out why she was out there? Caleb: No. Don't like making a habit, prodding into people's heads. I hope he doesn't encourage it with you.

picture 5 Lilith: Hah! That's funny. He has historically been known to respect boundaries. Caleb: Well, don't speak so highly of him. He's only your mentor. Lilith: I endure him to become stronger. Don't mistake it for anything else. I never shared a bed with him. Caleb: [ groans ] Ugh.

picture 6 Lilith: [ gasps ] Oh. You're awake.

picture 7 Lilith: Um... hello.

picture 8 Lilith: I must have frightened you. There's nothing to fear, we're here to help—

picture 9 Breanna: Huh? Oh. You don't scare me. What's wrong with your ears?

picture 10 Lilith: I beg your pardon? Breanna: Oh, sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant you don't look, um, human.

picture 11 Breanna: Does this mean I'm dead? Lilith: What? No. You're alive. Breanna: Oh. Wow. Okay. So... you're elves? Lilith: We are vampires.

picture 12 Caleb: I'm Caleb. This is my sister, Lilith. We found you deep in the forest. You breached so far beyond the barriers. What were you doing out there?

picture 13 Breanna: I don't wanna talk about it. Lilith: What about the barriers? How did you breach them? Breanna: What are you talking about? There wasn't no barriers.

picture 14 Breanna: I got a bunch of woods near my house.

picture 15 Breanna: I like walking around there sometimes. It felt like I was walking for hours, but I don't think it was that long.

picture 16 Breanna: It got dark quick though.

picture 17 Breanna: Y'all are vampires? That's kinda cool. So will you make me a vampire too?

picture 18 Lilith: Pardon? You wish to become a vampire? Breanna: Well duh. That sounds fun.

picture 19 Caleb: [ snorts ] Fun. Of course. Lilith: You haven't been awake for five minutes. I don't even know your name. Breanna: It's Breanna. Lilith: Wouldn't you prefer time to think this over first?

picture 20 Breanna: Uh, no, not really. Lilith: I can't. I don't have the authority. Breanna: What authority? Who cares? Just do it. Lilith: Even if I wanted to, I cannot. My powers are inefficient. Breanna: Why come you can't bring me to a stronger vampire? Lilith: You don't understand the things you ask for, girl.

picture 21 Breanna: Yeah I do. Do you think I'm stupid or something? Lilith: You gamble with your life, Breanna. Caleb: She's right. Please, let us take you home. Breanna: No, I'm not going back. You can't make me.

picture 22 Caleb: There is no promise you will be transformed. More likely, once the vampire's embassy realizes a human has breached the realms, you will be devoured.

picture 23 Breanna: Okay. Lilith: ...Okay? Doesn't that bother you?

picture 24 Breanna: I already said I don't care! So are you gonna turn me or what?

picture 25 Lilith: I... uh...

picture 26 Lilith: [ clears throat ] I must consult with someone.

[respectthepetty]

Dear Respect the Petty,

I have long enjoyed your posts about colors etc (like, to the extent that when you went on vacation I was legit sad), but I don't usually notice those details in shows by myself.

However, today, in Only Friends ep 4, something was so blatant that I finally picked up on it, and I have a question.

When Ray came to apologize to Mew for kissing him without consent, Mew was in the kitchen in this warm lighting, whereas Ray quickly moved into a dark blue space. The contrast was wild. And then Mew came closer to Ray and hung out in this half-and-half space with some blue on him.

I'm proud of myself for noticing something, but I don't know what it means about these boys/their colors/their mental states/their relationship.

Got any thoughts?

Thanks for sharing your insights (about this and also in general)!

@sorry-bonebag, this ask was so formal in structure, that I got a little scared. I felt like I had to answer it even though I have no less than ten other asks chilling in my inbox about the colors in Only Friends. But, honest moment here - I don't notice the colors when Khaotung is on my screen because I'm mesmerized by his beauty.

Like, LOOK at him!

I didn't even know what color that background was because my sight stopped at his face, and yellow is my favorite color! The jawline, the hair, the lips, the face, THE MAN! LOOK AT HIM!

So unlike Boston and Nick, who favor being in the dark together

Even when they have the opportunity for light, (God, I love their toxic asses)

I don't recognize color when Ray enters the room, not really at least. Of course, I noticed my little red flag being a demon ruining Sand's night by stalking him and breaking Sand's bottles, but only because Ray's lips really popped with that red background.

Just like the bar sign really made his lips pop that other time he was ruining Sand's night by suggesting a threesome at his house.

And because I like Boss "No Boundaries" Ton being lit up with the red lights while looking at photos, I did notice the transition into Ray's room focused on the red which then shifted to Ray pouring drinks.

But it's really because the opening credits only show the bar, the photos, and the alcohol in red because they are the dangers of this show.

So, like I was saying, I don't notice the colors because I'm captivated by Ray's glowing skin, which is why it pisses me off every time he is with Mew because Mew gets the Linda Evangelista treatment while Ray is forced into the shadows EVEN IN HIS OWN HOME!

Ray is usually watching Mew from the shadows or being overshadowed by Mew, literally! Mew is always sitting in front of Ray cutting him off from the light source.

Which is why I like it when Ray is with Sand because my little Ray of sunshine thrives. Even in the darkness, his skin is glowing!

The car ride the first night when Sand stopped him from driving drunk? Angelic like the heavens are shining on him! *bites knuckles*

But then again, that's how we were introduced to the boys in class. The spotlight was on Mew, Ray was in his shadow, and Boston was in the dark. (Chuem, you're doing great, hon!)

So you telling me that Mew, once again, gets to be in the warm light, while my visually stunning man who has never done a bad thing in his life (except, you know, the laundry list of bad shit he has done) gets the cool light even though they are IN THE SAME APARTMENT . . .

*takes a deep breath* It tracks.

But I'm glad that Mew stepped into the cool light with Ray as Ray apologized.

Because they are friends, and Mew has proven that although he can't give Ray light, he is willing to share some of Ray's darkness.

Which tells me that it isn't really Mew stealing light from Ray

But instead, Ray needs to step out into the light and embrace the warmth that others openly give him.

So I'm very proud of you for noticing this, and know that I'm really rooting for Ray realizing how good Sand is for his skin, I mean heart . . . no, I mean skin, so I can continue to enjoy the radiant being that is Khaotung when he gets that good lighting.

Thanks for the ask, and I'll try not to get entranced by Khaotung's flawless features, so I can notice cool visuals like you.

Wish me luck!