#this doesn't make any sense but i don't care

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Trinkets

Five presents Jason brought you back from his adventures and one you asked for. (+ one) ~1.2k words of fluff

Jason Todd brings you home gifts from his missions, which wouldn't be a problem, but he never really explains what they are.

The first time it happened, you had laughed at the green ring with a lantern symbol in the middle. It looked cheesy, like one of the fake ones you can buy from the superhero merch stores littered around malls and outlets.

You'd kissed his cheek in thanks, put it on your shelf, and never gave it a second thought.

At least you didn't, until a bright green glow woke you up from your sleep. You'd sat up immediately, jaw practically dropping to the sheets as the ring lifted itself off your shelf and flew out the window.

Jason barely budged, his arm still thrown over your waist. He let out yawn and cuddled closer before speaking, voice groggy and heavy, "Huh. Didn't think they noticed that one was gone."

"They," You half yell, voice pitching as you stare at his outline, hidden in the shadows of the room.

"The Guardians, babe," he yawns out, "They're in charge of the space cops. Just go back to sleep."

Naturally, you do not go back to sleep. You drag him to the kitchen, make tea, and demand he explains why a Green Lantern ring was in your apartment. (He's very happy to)

The second time it happens, you're much more wary of the gift he brings home. But to be fair, he can't really pass off an Amazonian steel sword as something he just picked up.

It doesn't take as much convincing as it should for you to let him mount it on your wall. But it's a sword! No one can blame you for thinking it looks cool in your living room.

It turns out keeping it around is pretty useful, because a few weeks later, your boyfriend crawls through your window, dressed head to toe in armor.

"Hey, doll," he drawls, "Can I borrow your sword?"

"Sure," You chirp back, more preoccupied with your book as he saunters over to the sword, "what for?"

"Artie's got confiscated, and we haven't gotten to steal it back yet," he supplies, stopping long enough to pull his helmet up and kiss your head.

"Oh, that sucks," You answer, offhandedly, "Give her and Bizzaro my love."

"You got it, babe," he chirps already halfway out your window.

He does bring your sword back, covered in green blood, but no worse for wear. It still looks great on your wall.

He brings you a box next. It's kind of ugly looking, but you thank him nonetheless.

"Be careful with it," he tells you as you flip it over in your hands, "It opens boom tubes."

You almost drop it, and if you hadn't already experienced the power ring, you would have shrieked at him. Instead, you manage to put it down very carefully and calmly ask, "It does what?"

"Open boom tubes," he answers, which clears absolutely nothing up, "I figured we could use it to country hop for our next date night. You know, dinner in Paris, drinks in Dubai, dessert in LA."

"Okay," You answer slowly, as if that makes complete sense.

It turns out, it does. Date night is lovely, and making out with your boyfriend on a random beach in Spain is very, very nice.

Batman waiting in your apartment to take back the boom box isn't so nice, though.

Jason tells you it was worth it. He's absolutely right.

The third thing Jason brings you is a plant. Flowers aren't a rare show of affection from him, but ones that move are.

"Uh, thank you, Jason," You start, prodding at the moving petals, they nuzzle your fingers the same way a kitten would, "But I don't know how to take care of these."

"Same way you take care of any other plant, water, fertilizer, nutrients, all that fun stuff," he says fondly, stroking a few of the petals.

"What if it gets sick," You ask, uncertain.

"We'll call Ivy," he says, unbothered.

"Right. Ivy. Poison Ivy. Who you know," You mumble, but the little plant is already worming its way into your heart. (You affectionately name it Daisy, for no other reason then it sways happily when you say that name)

The fourth thing Jason brings you makes you laugh because you know exactly what it is, "Jason, we can't keep this."

"Why not," he pleads, shaking the bright green quiver filled with arrows at you.

You giggled harder, smiling wide as you shake your head at him, "We don't even know what those do. Don't some of those explode?"

"So what," he huffs, practically pouting, "We can ask Roy. And it's not like I don't know my way around explosives."

"I guess so," You relent, trying to stifle your laughs as you inspect the bright green arrows, "How did you even get this?"

His eyes light up mischievously, "Do you really want to know?"

You stop short and narrow your eyes at him, "I would lose my plausible deniability."

"But you wanna know," he says, sly and playful.

You do. (It involves mutated chickens, tar, and one distracted Oliver Queen. You hang the quiver next to the sword)

Jason's getting ready to leave, bags packed and helmet lazy held under his arm, "Can I bring you back anything specific, doll" he asks, his free hand resting comfortably against your cheek, "Lasso of Truth? Maybe something with magic?"

You grin at him, leaning into his touch, "I actually do have something in mind."

"Oh," he prompts, eyes glinting with excitement.

"I want to complete my batarang collection."

He falters, "Your– what?"

"No one has," You exclaim, pulling away to showcase your collection, "I have Nightwings, Batgirls, Batmans, yours, of course, one of Robin's. But I'm missing Spoilers, Batwomans, Signals, and Red Robins."

He blinks at you, "That's– if that's what you want."

You giggle at how dumbfounded he looks, practically bouncing back over to him to kiss him, "Thank you, Jason."

He catches your waist and pulls you back in for another, longer kiss that leaves you both breathless and panting. His voice lowers, like it's a secret, "I'll bring you back some batarangs. See you in a few days?"

"See you in a few days," You echo, and he winks at you as he tugs on his helmet, leaving out your window.

Sure enough, you get your batarangs when he gets home. It takes some convincing, a few kisses that leave you senseless, but you get Jason to help you mount your batarang collection alongside the sword and quiver.

"I should get you a plasma rifle next," he drawls, admiring your growing wall of weapons.

"I think I'd fall over if I tried to shoot one of those," You point out, all smiles.

"I'll teach you," he tells you, hooking an arm around your waist to draw you closer.

Jason's a man of his word, and sure enough, he brings you home a plasma cannon after his next mission.

You only destroy most of the shooting range in the batcave when he lets you try it out.

[mieczyhale]

if you actually cared about palestinians, if you actually wanted to help people in gaza, you would donate to accredited organizations that are actually making a difference

throwing your money at every gofundme you get sent is performative, it's ignorant, it's a real 'head empty' move. something a child with no internet knowledge or common sense would do.

and to continue to defend doing that just shows that you don't actually care about helping people in gaza. you just don't want to be wrong. you don't want to admit that maybe you've been wasting your own money and the money of those who follow you and follow the links you share

you can't vet gofundme's. 'reverse image search' isn't actually vetting. and you can't trust every person on tumblr who says 'trust me!'

i can't believe any of this actually has to be pointed out in the first place, let alone driven home repeatedly because y'all refuse to even CONSIDER you JUST MIGHT be wrong. that you just might have fallen for propaganda and lies designed to hit your desire to do right, do good, and help (falling for those things btw is common. it's easy. you're not bad for getting caught up in it, but i am judging you if you refuse to consider that might be where you are.) (this actually applies to gofundme scams AND whatever heinous antisemitic alternate universe you're living in due to the non-facts you eat for every meal)

i'm not a zionist

i can't be. i'm not jewish.

but i am pro-peace, pro-two state solution, pro jewish self determination, pro palestine's continued existence, anti-ANYONE dying, and beyond fucking tired of y'all's bullshit

stop being fucking stupid

stop throwing your money in the trash

stop acting like your hate isn't hate

stop acting like you're on some fucking high horse and you have all the facts despite actually knowing absolutely fucking nothing because you refuse to listen to a single real non-token jew. you're antisemitic. i don't care that you don't think you are. you are. so many of you just are. and you don't get to decide you're not. just like a racist doesn't get to decide they aren't racist. if people in a group are calling you something there just might be a fucking reason for it, kathy

re-learn your internet safety, turn your brain back on, hop off the hate bandwagon, educate yourself beyond surface level shit the internet presents you with, make informed decisions based on facts, do things that will ACTUALLY help people in gaza.

be fucking better. do fucking better.

[ckret2]

What's your stance on Ford as a person? Honestly, I believe that for thr majority of canon he is a bad person. But I believe he grew. Still not great though XD

(Love him anyways obvs)

I disagree entirely! I think he's equally as good a person as any of the other main cast.*

*Except Mabel, who, as we all know, is always right about everything.**

(**This is a lighthearted joke. For the love of god, I don't want Mabel discourse in my inbox.)

His biggest sins in the show:

After telling his brother that he was thinking about changing their shared life plans, and then discovering that his brother had gone to the high school that night for no good reason and gone to the science fair for no good reason and messed around near Ford's science project for no good reason and broke it and didn't tell Ford about it... Ford believed Stan did it intentionally and held a grudge for it. You know what, it WOULD be pretty damn hard to believe it was an accident.

Hilariously ill-equipped to cope with Fiddleford's mental health. A guy who responds to "I have anxiety" with "have you tried yoga, it helps me" isn't a bad person, he's clueless. "Character cheerfully enacts a bad idea while a loved one in the background goes NO PLEASE DON'T DO THAT" describes half the episodes of Gravity Falls.

Was successfully manipulated by a professional manipulator into believing his best friend wished him ill. Man, what a terrible person Ford is for being manipulated by a manipulator and saying cruel things to somebody he'd been genuinely convinced was trying to harm him.

??? Didn't say thanks to a guy he was still mad at after the guy fixed a problem he himself had caused. This is a solitary example of stubborn bad etiquette, jesus christ. There's half a dozen different reasons why it makes perfect sense Ford wasn't in the right mindset to feel grateful, this is not something worth indicting his entire character over.

He had high ambitions, which everyone seems to lambast him for, but high ambitions that wouldn't have required doing anybody harm! (Until the professional manipulator started manipulating him into harming the people around him, but we are going to demonstrate some reading comprehension and not blame Ford's underlying morality as a person for things he never would've done if not for Bill's bullying, con artistry, and outright lies.) Like, what is it that he wanted to do with his life? Use his talents to get rich and famous? Shit, that's exactly what Stan wanted to do with his life. It's what Dipper fantasizes about doing with his life. Even Mabel, who thinks about her long-term future the least, dreams big with her art & performances and is already making big money off cheap-ass commissions. What terrible people they all are, for—let me check my notes here—uhhh... unrealistically fantasizing about achieving success in life by doing the things they're good at.

When their dad accuses Stan of lying as a child, Ford puts his entire summer on the line to defend Stan even though he knows Stan is a habitual liar and has no reason to believe Stan is telling the truth this time.

When his new college roommate he barely even knows gets laughed at for proposing an outlandish scientific theory, his first emotion is outrage at this injustice and he drops everything to convince his already-despondent roommate that he was right and help him prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

When he moves to a new town, he tries again and again to befriend his new neighbors, and fails not because he's rude or a jerk, but because he's awkward as hell, tells terrible jokes, and sucks at identifying phoenixes.

When Fiddleford gets hurt around him, he cares about it, feels guilty about putting him in that position, doesn't want it to happen again, and tries his best to help even though he's bad at helping.

When he gets kidnapped by a weird holiday folklore creature, he concludes without even thinking about it that he's now in charge of protecting and rescuing the kidnapped kids. Yeah, then he immediately starts hollering at the folklore creature for trying to impose his religious beliefs on Ford and the kids—but like, Ford was right tho, he just had bad timing.

When he discovers that the Northwest family committed atrocities against their poorer neighbors a century ago, his first instinct is to march up to their house, find the first Northwest he can locate, and give them a piece of his mind for it. Like, this won't even FIX anything. He's just THAT OUTRAGED over the injustice.

When he sees what he thinks is a fortune telling fraud conning the people, he attempts to debunk her because he's mad to see someone cheating other people with lies—and when he can't debunk her, he just leaves her alone rather than harass her about it. Typically, if assholes think somebody's doing something wrong but don't have any proof of it and fail to get proof when they look, they decide they're right anyway and keep giving that person shit. Ford doesn't give her shit. That's the opposite of an asshole move.

When he discovers his Portal To Knowledge (And Fame & Fortune) is actually a Portal To Doom (But Still Possibly Fame & Fortune, Maybe Even Godly Power), he isn't tempted for a second to keep working on it anyway. There is no moment where Bill manages to tempt him. No matter what Bill offers, no matter how long Bill offers, never, at ANY point, does Ford have a SECOND of "but what if I did make a deal with the devil?" the way so many heroes in similar situations often do.

You ever notice that? So often moral moments in the show are presented as choices the characters make. Will or won't Dipper give Bill a "puppet" in exchange for knowledge. Will or won't Stan fight a pterodactyl to protect Mabel's pig. Will or won't Mabel hand Bipper the journal. Ford is never given a "will or won't he" moment over Bill's threats, offers of friendship, or offers of infinite power—he steamrolls straight past them without a second of consideration—because, to him, the selfish, cowardly, easy choice ISN'T EVEN AN OPTION. He doesn't even SEE it as making a choice because the possibility of doing the wrong thing is invisible. A character who wavers first before turning Bill down would look more noble for "overcoming" temptation—it's harder to notice just how much stronger Ford's moral compass must be to not even feel temptation in the first place.

Greed and pride never tempt him to join Bill's side. Exhaustion, despair, and fear never tempt him to give up. He bears up under weeks, possibly months of extreme sleep deprivation, physical torture, psychological torture, emotional torture, threats of death, threats of brainwashing, threats to his family. He doesn't hold up so that he can pat himself on the back for being a hero—if that was all it was he would've gone "screw it, this isn't worth it and nobody would know I'm the one who gave up" a week in—he does it because he simply knows it must be done and because he's so isolated (half because of Bill's influence!) that he believes he's the one who must do it, all alone.

Thinking he has to do it by himself isn't egotism or pride; it's helplessness. He thinks no one else stands a chance. He thinks he's alone.

And, when he discovers his Portal To Knowledge is a Portal To Doom, he immediately feels guilty. No trying to deny the situation to protect his ego. No shuffling the blame off to someone else. No "maybe the apocalypse could have a silver lining!" No locking the door and trying to ignore the problem. He blames himself for being fooled—he IMMEDIATELY takes full responsibility for his actions—and he CONTINUES to take responsibility FOR THE NEXT THIRTY YEARS.

He takes more responsibility than is even warranted—he treats himself like he's an idiot for believing in an APPARENT GOD who's been practicing manipulating humans for thousands of years and who had never given Ford reason to believe the portal was anything but what Bill said it was. He beats himself up to no end every single time his past with Bill comes up. He even keeps beating himself up thirty years later when he's shoving warning notes to future readers in Bill's evil unkillable book!

When he falls into the multiverse, he dedicates his entire life NOT to finding a way to rescue himself, but to finding a way to permanently stop the CHAOS GOD who's still at the threshold of destroying Ford's world and countless others. He makes himself a hated criminal in the process, just to stop Bill. He's ready to spend the rest of his life trying to protect a world he doesn't think he'll ever see again. He does it because, as he sees it, somebody has to stand in between the children and the obnoxious folklore cryptid menacing them, and he's the only adult in this damn cave with the skills and knowledge for the job.

When he gets home, he doesn't tell his family about Bill and his quest because he's afraid that doing so will get them involved and endanger them too—and because he's too deeply ashamed of himself and his mistakes to stand the thought of his family knowing about the horrible things he's done (AGAIN, WHILE BEING MANIPULATED BY THE GOD OF MANIPULATION).

He loves his great-niece and great-nephew the second he lays eyes on them; he nevertheless tries to steer away from them to keep them safe from Bill; and yet he caves to the very first temptation to emotionally bond with his great-nephew he gets, because in spite of his noble "keep them safe" intentions, he wants so so badly to be close to his family.

As pissed as he still is at Stan and even though neither of them can look at each other without hissing like cats, he still makes an attempt to start bridging their divide by inviting him to play DD&MD.

When the apocalypse happens, he immediately puts his life on the line to try to kill Bill.

And when he's captured, isn't fazed for a second by Bill's offers or threats... until his family is threatened. The exact thing he'd been trying to avoid & prevent from the very start.

And when he's reunited with Fiddleford, his immediate reaction is to point out that Fiddleford's well within his rights to hate him—which isn't a new revelation, it's not like Ford had to do any soul-searching to reach this conclusion, he'd concluded that 30 years ago the instant he realized Bill had played him and that he'd been lied to about Fiddleford.

And then he tries to kill Bill again.

And then he's ready to sacrifice his own life to kill Bill—and the only reason he doesn't is because he has a metal plate preventing him from making the sacrifice... but, Stan doesn't have a plate. If Ford hadn't had the metal plate, he would have gladly done the exact same thing Stan did—and he would have thought it was right for him and only him to make that sacrifice, because it's VERY clear he feels (and has felt from the start) that this is all his fault and he's obligated to fix it.

Over and over and over, these are Ford's two defining character traits: getting so pissed off at injustice that his common sense shuts off and he goes into terminator mode until he's righted this wrong as best he can, even when he can't actually do anything about it; and feeling like he's Atlas, weighed down with the full responsibility of fixing everything he's done wrong and made to believe that, for everyone else's sake, he has to do it all alone. Even when doing so puts himself in harm's way, even when he has to put his entire life on hold for it, even if it might cost him his life. Scrape off his awkward social skills, his loneliness, his nerdiness, his endless curiosity, his zealous love of the strange, his starry ambitions, his yearning for recognition and success—scrape his personality down to the bone and that's what you're left with. A man who believes in defending the exploited so strongly that it makes him a little stupid.

I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that you probably don't think Stan's fundamentally a bad person, and that you probably think that isn't even worth questioning. Stan's made a whole career out of swindling people, conning them out of as much money as he possibly can, stealing, lying, committing a long list of goofily-named crimes, and attempting douchy pick-up artistry on women; and to cap it all off, he held the safety of the entire universe hostage to demand a goddamn "thank you." Don't send me any "But he had reasons—" "But it was only to—" I don't need it, I don't want the essay, I'm not arguing that Stan's a bad guy, it's fine.

But. You can look at Stan's moments of cruelty and unkindness, his uncharitable thoughts, his character flaws, and think, "that doesn't define him. He's more than his cruelest moments and worst mistakes. He's imperfect, but he cares so much and his heart's in the right place, and beneath all the flaws his core is good."

And if you can't do the same for Ford, it's not because he's a worse person. It's because we got two seasons with Stan and five and a half episodes with Ford—and while we saw Stan yearning to fish with the kids or encouraging Mabel to whoop Pacifica's butt at minigolf or crying over a black and white period drama or punching zombies to save his family, we only saw Ford at the worst moments in his life and under the stress of a prolonged apocalyptic crisis—and, it so happens, all the moments he was pissed at the guy we spent two seasons learning to love.

Ford's got moments of cruelty and unkindness, uncharitable thoughts, and character flaws. But, at his core, he's a good person, and he always has been, and he still is.

[merakiui]

Would the RSA vs NRC gangbang be like one dorm at a time or all the same time? Tossing RSA darling from one dorm to another so that everyone gets their fill. (would be a surprise if darling didn't get preggers from all the cum :v)

Anyway, how'd the RSA students or mainly just neige and chenya react? Would they fuck the cum outta darling orrr?

Communal RSA hole...... >_< I imagine whichever dorm you stumble upon first becomes your temporary home for the day or so that you're there. You don't even get to tour the rest of campus because you're almost always on someone's dick and if you aren't then you're on your knees utilizing your mouth or your hands... orz something something "RSA hole is the best" type of opinion amongst the NRC students. They're all so greedy and terrible!! >:(

I like to imagine most of the RSA students have a savior complex to some degree. Being the school that is famed for being "good" and having a "pure-white" reputation it would make sense for someone like Neige to want to help you in any way he can, so very heroic and princely, not only out of the goodness of his heart but because he likes you. So seeing the state you're in now,,, his heart just breaks. :< how could such a thing happen (he almost doesn't believe it, but maybe that's just him trying to keep up the act of the sweet, good-natured, innocent friend)!! He'll take care of you,,,, even though your solo visit to RSA was mostly encouraged by him. Perhaps Neige isn't so saintly as everyone thinks he is. :)

Che'nya...... if you went to Heartslabyul, I feel like he'd play at being sympathetic even though he's probably itching to say, "Yeah, that tracks. Don'tcha know the kinda nyaasty stuff they're into over there?" The amount of things Che'nya's seen every time he goes invisible snooping at Heartslabyul... too much. orz those card soldiers are FREAKS!!!!!

[miifu666]

We know sukuna's a huge hater for Yuuji right? But theres a saying around my country where "you shouldn't hate someone TOO MUCH or else fate will always unite u with them."

Or sum like "don't hate someone too much, it'll turn to love."

<<<<<<♡>>>>>>>

Imagine a happy ending Sukuna, one where he genuinely decided to be in a loving and domestic household with you. He saw what the jujutsu world can do, both ancient and modern, Gojo has provenly showed him a thrilling time by being the one and almost only person to make him feel the life and death situation in such a predictable battle.

He got to meet the plentiful talented sorcerers in the modern world, one where they have far more advanced knowledge in how life works than those in the heian era. The new sorcerers didn't disappoint him too much. Some managed to learn innate domain expansion in a mere second, others didn't have any curse energy yet managed to hurt him more than those who do. He's seen it all, he feels content.

Hence why he made a choice to have his own happy ending, see where life gets him after his "unsavory" conversation with his fated nephew. The tangy memories of that boy's bright smile hearing sukuna giving him a chance to show him how beautiful life can be, even if deep within. Theres a dreaded feeling whenever he sees that gullible boy, a fire pit inside him whenever he realized how innocent his so called "nephew" is for believing someone like him can be saved too.

Sukuna thought back idly, coming back to his senses as he feels your hair being combed through his fingers in a consistent motion. He wonders if maybe that annoying brat is right, he has a dutiful lover now. One who he feels as though wouldn't have been his if he didn't accept that despicable brat's decision.

The warm feeling of the sun hitting both him and his equal is... a blissful feeling. He used to be empty, seeking thrill from both knowledge and greed of such delicacies, humans, animals.. all he could find and devour till his stomach is full. All knowledgeable for such sorcery to make sure he stays the top, to see if someone is there to fight and able to defeat him on top of the lonely world of the strongest.

Now he's sitting here, the daunting feeling of such title no longer haunts him. Theres no one who can use him like an object, to fight and treat him like a game boss, speak his name like an object to defeat, disregard him as something worth less than humanity and curses, a natural calamity. Inside this prosperous Minka, he is just sukuna. Hes not the starving child, ostracized from society, being stripped bare of his real birth given name.

He's now.. Sukuna.

The husband and father of... currently one brat.

Speaking of a brat.

There's hustling noises of running feet ontop of the well cared grass, the thumping of something- no. Someone not much older than 5 years old.

"Papa!"

There he is.

"I got butterflies!!"

The small brat he managed to raise. The one and only child he has, a miracle. He was tempted to call him "megumi" too actually- but he's too prideful to use a rip off of someone elses name. He created his own, he hoped. This child doesn't get sick from bearing the weight of his own name.

"Those are Dragonflies, Yajou"

Yajou, a combination of both the kanji for appearance and fulfillment. A perfect name for one who completes the boundaries between human and curses.

Although...

Sukuna stared at his son again. His face is much more similar to a certain brat than him. His bright and naive eyes, those unopened set of eyes under his proper main ones, the tufs of pink hair on top while his lover's natural hair decorated the sides. Its all too familiar, he hates it. He hates having a split image of his disgusting nephew in this... fleshy and chonky baby form.

"Free! Free dragon!"

The child babbles out, spreading his hands out to let the Dragonfly leave his fleshy touch. It was... cute, adorable even. Sukuna sigh.

This.. is a funny way of fate telling him to learn his lesson.

>>>♡♡<<<

God i had this thought at 1am i did NOT proof reading this i just fucking wing it brooooooo. Hope its good ig djdhdjjdkd

[marmaladeinlemonade]

Ppl will complain about Pressure updates and devs while forgetting Pressure is NEW.

Ik tumblr has more users with common sense but the amount of tiktoks and tt users say that the game was at its PEAK two weeks after the game's release just bc you could climb Sebastian, he wasn't (visibly) married (it was always written into his character), and tolerated the players slightly more is INSANE.

Most games, at that, aren't at its peak gameplay and story a month after release!!

"The anti-climbing mechanic doesn't even fix anything!" Yeah because you climbed Sebastian several times over ofc at SOME point you're gonna get softlocked bro. Maybe try playing pressure for a reason aside from harassing seb.

I genuinely feel like the pressure fanbase tend to forget that Pressure is from roblox programmers in a small developing group. This isn't Hoyoverse or DevSisters where the game is fully polished with information on all characters and a finalized world building upon release because the company has more time, money, and skilled labor to develop that. It was made in ~1 year and a rushed release.

Not only that, but Pressure is a passion-project. It isn't driven by money, which means there's not much of an incentive to please the playerbase with fan service content that changes lore/characters so people can buy it. (Fan service as in any content made to make ppl happy) So, developers are going to choose what they want to do with the game bc they don't care whether or not you play. Zeal said so first thing in his interview with Breadian.

Amazing features that enrich gameplay and world building such as Sebastian killing walldwellers and the DiVine being able to kill you, Navi-AI turning into a new character, and several new room types are hinted to come to Pressure but nooo!!! Its somehow cooked and unsavable because of ONE form of characterization YOU deem incorrect not even knowing the character's lore. Right.

Edit: Pressure has a future as a roblox game that values storytelling and immersing the user in it's world. We need rblx games like it that put work over profit so people stay on the platform. Especially when older and new games have become money hungry over time.

Its really crazy how people be biting the hand that feeds them. Seb could easily be replaced with an expendable or unknown void like jeffery as a merchant npc if this continues. Online users will really be out her acting like the person who wrote and designed their favorite character is all of a sudden BAD!! And their favorite character is RUINED!!! And TAKEN AWAY FROM THEM!! Because their personality wasn't made to please the fanbase.

Yes, Sebastian hates you. Not pouty tsundere hates you, he is literally keeping you alive against his own will by mr. Lopee. He not tryna fuck bro 🔥

[queenoftheimps]

Artistic Expression as a Form of Love: aka Some Meta About Interview with the Vampire

hey guess who spent all of today putting off a really boring work task

So I'm just suddenly just having a lot of feelings about how love is tied to creation in Interview with the Vampire.

Specifically, each character's artistic impulses and what they say about their relationships, and how they use their creative output as a sort of love language.

From the very first episode, we see hints of this. Miss Lilly asks about Lestat's music box, which plays a song he wrote for Nicholas once upon a time, evidence of his love for someone who's been dead for over a century.

He later writes his own song for Louis, 'Come to Me', and Claudia makes the connection explicit while deliberately poking at him -- he wrote a song for each of his true loves, but does one signal love more strongly than the other?

She's being facetious to prod at him, but the show seems to genuinely make the point that we can track each characters' relationships through the art we see them create.

After all, we see it with Claudia herself later -- even before there's any discussion of becoming companions, we can feel Madeleine's compatibility with Claudia in the way she makes dresses for her.

Madeleine dresses Claudia as the grown woman she wants to be seen as, as she really is, even before she fully understands the circumstances of Claudia's age. It's telling that in Madeleine's dying vision, the one that convinces Louis of her love for Claudia, that Claudia is wearing a dress that Madeleine made for her.

By contrast, we see how Claudia is incompatible with the coven in the role that they have quite literally written for her. If Madeleine shows her love by treating Claudia as an adult, the coven shows their lack of caring by creating artwork where Claudia is forced into playing a part that diminishes her.

In turn, we can see Claudia's enthusiasm for the coven tied into her willingness to perform -- she starts off trying to smile her way through the situation, before quickly growing tired of the performance (and, relatedly, the coven itself).

But then again, how does the coven show its real loyalties? Well, with a painting.

We don't know who painted Lestat (Armand, possibly?), but having artwork of him in a place of prominence is pretty telling. But then again, the theater's creation is itself a reflection of art as a signifier of love & bonding -- Lestat suggests a theater to a lonely Armand as a way to regain a family/coven structure, after the last one fell apart.

Which makes particular sense for Armand, the character who most explicitly equates artistic expression with love and understanding. We see him underline it in his own telling of his backstory -- "No one has painted me in over 400 years." He associates painting with being seen and cared for by his maker --

-- and yet we, the audience, can plainly see what a warped, toxic relationship it was from the painting itself : a whitewashed version of Armand's face that doesn't truly look like him.

Hell, we even see Armand's betrayal of Louis in the form of creative expression -- to quote Daniel, "He directed the play!"

His treason isn't just that he sold Louis & Claudia out, it's that he participated in a creation that would condemn them. Artistic expression shows us love and loyalty in this world, yes, but it can also be used as a tool of abuse or betrayal.

Which brings us to Louis, he who has the eye for art but maybe not the skill for it, who never said 'I love you' to Lestat and wouldn't call Armand his companion, who ultimately gives up on creation in favor of becoming a collector.

It's especially interesting that his abandonment of photography is also explicitly tied to the end of his visions of Dreamstat. Even the one photo he takes that garners praise is one he tries taking of Armand & Dreamstat at the same time -- as if the closest he can get to expressing love through creation is something that blurs the lines between both men he has complicated feelings for. (Note that the scene where he develops the photo is directly after the "Show me the only way you know how to love" sequence of Louis bashing some guy's head into a wall.)

Hell, if we want to take it even further, we can even see some of this pretense in the inclusion of the Fred Stein photos (assuming Armand actually did sneak them in). On one level, we can see it as Armand trying to build up Louis' happiness, but on the other, it's him trying to build up the image of their romance.

After all, if artistic creation is a sign of love -- especially to Armand! -- what does it mean if Louis is openly disparaging his own abilities to make anything at all?

Taking it further, what does it say that he and Armand have a collection of photos of various boys over the years and expensive artwork hanging on every wall, but Louis doesn't seem to have taken any pictures of Armand in almost eighty years?

And hey, speaking of fascinating boys: what does it mean when Louis hasn't made anything creative of Armand since the 1940s, but he has no problem writing a book for ten hours with some guy he picked up at the bar?

Hell, writing a book where Louis spends ten hours talking about his life and hasn't even gotten up to the part with Armand yet? The supposed love of his life doesn't even garner a mention, to the point where Daniel didn't even know he existed when he arrives fifty years later.

And what does it mean when that book you never wrote is a giant hanging thread in your life, enough to create a connection strong enough that you remember that guy fifty years later and go back to that writing it? Even over the objections of the love of your life?

Especially when find out that Daniel's entire writing career is sparked in part by inspirational words given to him by Louis -- a sign of their bond withstanding the test of time, enough to make them friends after a fifty year absence.

That said, if we're working with the idea of artistic expression as proof of connection -- especially when it comes to Armand -- then it also makes perfect sense why Armand would insert himself into the interview once he's been revealed.

Then it's no longer about Louis & Daniel, or Louis & Lestat, it's about Louis & Armand and artistic proof of their connection! They're both now creating a story, a book that will include their entire romance! It's the first time that Armand has had the possibility of being an artistic subject in decades, so no wonder he's quick to latch onto it.

Even then, though: I think it's interesting that when Armand is talking to Daniel alone, the first story he thinks to tell him about is his relationship with Lestat. Make of that what you will.

(Also, I've said this before, but I am very curious what Armand's feelings towards Daniel will be after having an entire book written in which he plays a starring role.)

I think that this is all very rich with subtext and possible further progression, especially since we are about to enter a season where a new book is being written by Daniel and there's going to be an entire tour's worth of music being performed, all of it ripe with potential for further relationship nuance.

And while I don't want to wander too far into book spoiler territory, I think this might even neatly factor into a potential Season 4 -- especially since book fans will know that a specific musical performance is the catalyst for a lot of what happens in The Queen of the Damned.

[ghouldtime]

*slides into the DMS*

S O. What does social anxiety for König look like through your fantastic characterization then? 👀

(Love your Alone operator series btw. Got me on the edge of my seat with each chapter!!)

(Thank you!! 💚💚💚 I'm so glad you're enjoying :D you all have been so so sweet with it and Im over the MOON so many people have liked it)

To answer this question I'm going to have to be a biiig yapper and explain why I think of him the way I do

Going to say this to start, but I'm going with the true fact that König is indeed diagnosed with social anxiety - anything else I'm saying is based off of my personal interpretation of how he acts in game as a disclaimer

I'm also going to state that personally, the König I write is in his lower to mid 40's. Sorry not sorry, I don't see him as a young dude. Especially not when it's pretty much agreed upon that he's a colonel. So he's had a SIGNIFICANT amount of life experience, and a significant amount of time to work on himself and have introspection.

To me, it makes the most sense that he was diagnosed with social anxiety earlier on in his childhood since it was significantly more obvious when he was younger. Something that severe wasn't unnoticed by those around him because some of them did care about him. It's also stated he's suffered from severe social anxiety throughout his life so that's how I took it.

I personally go with he grew up in a more rural town in his homeland of Austria, which meant there weren't exactly others around during the first few years. "Go play with the neighbors kids" didn't really work when there weren't neighbors around. It was mainly him and his parents and an occasional relative over.

What could be brushed off as initial shyness clearly couldn't be anymore when he finally was enrolled in school.

Even on the first day when it's "introduce yourself to everyone", he fucked that up so monumentally it'll be engraved forever in his hall of shameful memories that he thinks about late at night. School was an utter nightmare, quite frankly, from moment one. The whole situation was too much, too stressful, and too different from the life he had at home. He flat out refused to get up and present in front of the class and wouldn't talk in group projects just for the fear of embarrassing himself. At that time, he was hitting all the indicators for social anxiety like they're the targets he shoots at today.

He missed out on a lot of interaction with other kids initially because of how awkward he was - and having any form of anxiety never helps in social situations. Talking to others wasn't something that came naturally and his own panic amplified it tenfold. Most times, he'd either pretend he didn't hear them, avoid them, or stray as far to the edge of the group as possible to avoid it. Unfortunately this made him an easy target because kids are RUTHLESS and turned him into even more outcast as well which only worsened it.

School always sucked for him due to that, despite the fact that he was a smart kid. No amount of smarts could save you from social persecution when you had nearly no social skills to boot. [ side note but I'm dying on the hill that he's incredibly intelligent and has a bachelors degree (at the very least)].

His parents kept him in therapy to help him manage because without it, he'd be back at square one refusing to go to school and faking a cold just to get out of it. And of course, therapy is a very important tool when it comes to healing, coping, and managing severe mental disorders. The whole reason why he doesn't show such bad anxiety anymore is because he kept the skills he learned and applies them so much that it becomes his second nature.

He's had at least 35 years of this, he's good enough to mask and to keep up his facade.

Another part of why he doesn't show it nearly as much is because he joined the military and was thrown through the wringer with it. Being bullied for so long was a major motivator for joining in the first place, as he needed something to get away from the peers who tormented him so and he needed a new life where he wasn't known as target #1. But he ALSO wanted to gain actual confidence and more certainty in himself.

Joining the military really means you're not left with such things as many choices when it comes to anxiety in social situations. You're forced into quarters with others, have to work side-by-side, do nearly everything together, so on and so forth. He knew that going in but at that point for him it was like extreme exposure therapy, the last step he needed to really put everything he learned in therapy to work.

That doesn't mean he didn't suffer or loved it. No, it was terrible, intense, and nerve-wracking. But he wouldn't have done it otherwise if he didn't want that. Being in the military didn't give him the leeway to avoid what made him anxious, it taught him to face it head on and fight.

Now that he's up there in age and has considerable more experience (and leeway with having a higher rank), the ways he expresses it [look at me finally answering the question] are more subtle.

On the field, you're likely not going to notice it. Because that's him turning the little auto pilot switch in his mind to on when he has a job. The job is his focus and everything has been so engrained in his mind that it's muscle memory. He's, quite frankly, focused on not dying and getting any job done over himself. The joking you often hear him do and taunting alike is part of how he's expressing the confidence he feels when he's in his element, when he KNOWS what he is doing.

If you look closely or approach him off the field, however, it's another story. He usually tenses or straightens himself out when people approach and will hold that until they leave (unless they're someone who he truly knows). Many assume that's a taught habit of the military, but that's only half-true. He did that before then.

Unlike when he's working, he doesn't have a guide or things he knows he has to do in a specific order to best ensure survival - no matter how much talking to other people feels like the heat of the battle, you can't (legally) solve it with a gun or throw a frag and book it out of there. There's no true guide to social interactions and that stresses him out. There's no manual, no field guide, no ten step card on how to successfully navigate them.

He knows things that are normal to say, he knows sometimes what he should say - it's just a matter of finding the phrasing and how to say them. Yet it seems like whenever someone doesn't follow his pre-programmed line of thought when it comes to their talking, his mind can shut down and go blank as he stares, trying to figure out where to go or what to say (spoiler: it usually doesn't end well).

He's usually awkward to talk to because he's running over everything in his head as he tries to think of what best to say to avoid further interactions or ones that could be more targeting to him. And, as mentioned, he lacks the average set of social skills that plenty learn in childhood because he didn't have that proper socialization. He's also still not the best at talking itself and can be blunt and to-the-point, which also doesn't usually go down well.

Not to mention, he's bad at small talk and has a terrible, sarcastic sense of humor that many can't read and it quickly turns things uncomfortable very fast because everyone takes him seriously. It never helps he usually doesn't explain himself all too well, usually leaving it as is as he secretly wishes he didn't talk at all when mortification sets in. Hurrying away with an excuse of some paperwork or something else to busy himself is his go-to after those.

When possible, he'll avoid small-talk and greatly prefers gestures instead. Someone who can appreciate his greater need for silence and a lack of talking is someone who he will greatly appreciate in turn. He's a firm believer that not all silences are uncomfortable and sometimes, it IS best not to say anything at all.

Due to his childhood too, he's not really fond of being around many people and will do his best to avoid it. Unless he has to grin and bare it, he won't. He finds his mind calmest when he can just be himself without having to worry about saying the right things to appease others or to be friendly. That way he can focus on what he wants, think how he wants, and feels how he wants without second guessing himself or having to worry about existing.

He's going to avoid most public settings when possible. Though he can now suitably manage his anxiety, they're something he passes up on. Grocery store trips are something he does maybe once a week or two, if that - stock piling so he has to go to the store less is his usual strategy. Anything he can do himself, he WILL do himself, if he doesn't have a trusted person who can do it better or can help.

Notably, he also doesn't have many friends. He's like talking to a brick wall and unless you're considerably persistent and understanding of his need for space, you won't get far. A lot of people don't have the time nor patience for it, but if you do get close to him, he does come out of his shell. He appreciates anyone who cares enough to actually get close to him and get to know him despite how awkward he can be, and will be loyal to the end because of that.

Another side effect is that he doesn't sleep well. Between the massive amounts of trauma from his job and the trauma from his childhood, he doesn't sleep well as is. But the social anxiety aspect comes into play because many nights, his mind is rerunning all the interactions he's had as he chronically overthinks them. He always wonders what he could've done, how he could've improved, and what they're thinking of him (even if they're someone he may never run into again). Its very hard for him to shut his mind off and doing such usually requires him drowning everything else and making himself not think about that, or anything, any more.

[Another side note: He's an avid reader. Reading gives him new things to think about and can help put him to sleep, especially before bed. It's a good way for him to stop thinking about whatever was nagging him and shifts his mind into thinking about other things he enjoys instead)

Basically, IN SHORT this isn't my full in-depth detailed characterization of exactly who I think he is - the reason he's not presenting it as an anxious ball of pure energy who is so uwu shy and soft is because he is incredibly well-managed with his severe social anxiety at his age and that's uh, just not him. Social anxiety doesn't mean he's a blubbering mess or will cry at the slightest inconvenience and reducing him to that or treating anyone with social anxiety like they're a child because of it does not help at alllll.

He's had extensive therapy for this, he's got his methods, he can mask very well. He's a WHOLE GROWN MAN who is responsible for not only his actions but how he manages his emotions and he knows it. But if you know him and know what to look for, you'll be able to pick it up.

(Also the sheer amount of scenarios I've seen where people think he just would... cry if you took his mask off??? Him???? HIM???? König, "I can make you talk, where are they?" the skilled PMC operator? That one? That guy? Yeah no, anyone dumb enough to do that better have signed their will prior or hopefully has an intensive love for scrubbing all the floors with a single old toothbrush. He won't tolerate people harassing or hustling him or pressing on his nerves. Sure, it reminds him of his childhood bullies, but quite frankly that behavior as grown adults trying that is RIDICULOUS, it pisses him off and immediately lowers his opinion on them.)

To whoever made it this far, I hope this made sense, I took melatonin before I got the ask so I'm in another realm right now LMAO. König is one of my favorites and was the first character I realllly really loved and I just hate seeing him done so dirty. Especially as someone with severe social anxiety myself, it irritates me when it's portrayed just so... wrong and quite frankly, in a lazy, offensive manner lacking any nuance especially in relation to the character who has it. Like just making him stutter and cry isn't all social anxiety is and there's SO much depth and things to work with despite the... actual substance as far as his bio goes

[cator99]

2 days ago: a new email from the landlord is dropped. I open it, and damn near toss my phone across the room.

The email can be summed up as such: "Hi everyone just a totally casual reminder that ONLY THOSE CURRENTLY ON THE LEASE are LEGALLY permitted to reside in the home. I've made this very clear. In the off chance that you missed the memo, allow me to reiterate this part on the lease for you. [insert that part in a fancier font here]. To be clear, anyone who is not on the lease as a tenant is not authorized to reside in the home. Anyways so yeah I'll be bringing some handymen over on the 26th to deal with the basement leak."

(Side note– yes, she does say both "I've made this very clear" and "to be clear".)

The house is engulfed by an eerie silence in the following days. Or maybe– in my paranoid state– I'm imagining it. I know for certain that no one wants to touch the damn thing. We all sit and wait for someone else to breach the topic. That "someone else" being the unemployed ftm who has been the primary correspondent with the landlord for at least as long as I've been here, despite all common sense pointing towards this being a task that would be better delegated to literally anyone else– although, seeing as he is now our only unemployed resident, I do consider bestowing this responsibility upon him to be an act of mercy. Something something "enclosure enrichment" etc. So. He finally returned today, and the expected happened. Total pandemonium in the house chat. Thankfully, no one seems to have– at least openly– begun to suspect the obvious, (that, of course, being that this is a sort of warning from a landlord who knows exactly what's going on) and then, from there, extrapolated that perhaps this is the result of a snitch. But who would do that? Couldnt possibly be the one person in the house who has openly expressed concern about the way things have been dealt with. Oh well. Thankfully, the most cogent thought that was expressed on the topic was this:

New Girl remains totally silent as everyone chimps out and devises a plan to give legal aid a call tomorrow. Yknow. Regarding an issue that should more or less be new girl's responsibility to deal with. Hours pass before she finally responds to the questions regarding what she would like us to do. Does she even want to be on the lease? After all the fighting we did to get the landlord to agree to even consider doing so? All this hullabaloo just feels a little silly when she doesn't seem to give a shit either way. She's expressed very little consideration towards these matters at any point (in her defense, she is Cerifiably Slow in that incresingly-rare Not A Malingerer type of way so... I don't expect too much), but right about now, without Pins Girl here to make a stink about it all and whip people up into believing that suburbia-chan's tenancy here is of utmost importance and a real human rights issue, it has become even moreso apparent that she really doesn't care nor understand the implications of this situation. But I digress. Hours after the fact, she drops in with a few words, and leaves it at that.

Imagine purple saying this through gritted teeth. She's one of the 2 relatively-normie-if-a-tad-reclusive (who can blame them) 30 y/o IT-job people who live upstairs. The one who has been volunteered to call legal aid in the morning... sooo valid.....

[wand3rlustm3]

can you do best friend txt x reader confessing love for each other with a bunch of tooth rotting fluff/smut 🙏🙏🙏 (sorry if this isn’t very detailed i’m very tired 😭) love your work btw 🫶🫶🫶

Writer's Note: Thank you so so much, anonnie <333 I love you and appreciate your kind words very, very much. I'm so sorry for my late response, I actually saved this in my drafts a long time ago and forgot to post it. I am sorry if this isn't what you asked for, if you want me to change it I will happily do so, also I will upload part 2 soon! :)

Warnings: angst for soobin's part :(, fluff, smut :3

CONFESSIONS OF AN ANGEL Pt 1.

Soobin

It seemed like these days you couldn't get through to him no matter what, It just didn't make sense. Why was he actively going out of his way to avoid you? You missed him, you missed his presence, you missed every ounce of him because being with him became a habit. It was to the point where your other friends kept asking you where he is, and you were tired of answering with the same, "he seems like he got busy"—a blatant lie to keep others assuming that your best friend is not even your friend anymore.

Soobin seemed to find any and every excuse, but it wasn't because he hated you. It was because of the very opposite, he knew that if he was around you for any longer, he simply couldn't take it. He'd have to confess to you that his feelings are much deeper than the feelings a person should feel toward their best friend, and he didn't want to ruin what he already had with you. In that fear, he'd coop up in his apartment and scratch his head at the many questions dabbling in his head. What if you didn't love him back? What if you'd be disgusted at his advances and find him creepy? What if— just too many "what ifs".

So at this point, you had to take matters into your own hands and angrily drag yourself to the doorstep of his apartment demanding an explanation. You were not letting him off so easily, there was no way that you'd let someone like him go without an explanation. So logically, you knock on the door multiple times, but since he doesn't open it, you speak through the door.

"Soobin, open the door. I need to talk to you right now. I don't know what's happened between us but you need to explain to me if I did anything wrong since the past two weeks you've been ignoring me. You haven't responded to a single message I've sent you, you haven't even been taking care of our cute little digital pet, you haven't even reached out once or at least told me what happened. Not only am I worried about you, but I'm scared that I'll lose you..." you spoke with a strong tone, but your voice cracked at the end and Soobin could just tell that you were going to cry.

"Y/n—please, go home." Soobin attempted to respond in a monotone voice, but you heard his voice shake as well.

Hot tears begin to roll down your face at his response. "Am I that terrible—? A- am I that terrible that you won't even say goodbye?" You stutter and speak through your light sob.

In that moment, Soobin can't control himself anymore. He pulls the door open as fast as he can and he pulls you into the tightest embrace. His strong arms wrap around you almost as if you'd slip away any moment, and he only lets go of you to put a hand over your chin to tilt your face upwards to him. "Y/n, it's actually the complete opposite. I'm so sorry, I'm an absolute idiot, aren't I? I didn't avoid you because I hated you, I've been avoiding you because—well, because I love you more than a best friend, I want to spend the rest of my life with you but I was scared that I'd lose everything I already had with you. So please, just....don't leave me y/n." His voice was shaking and there were tears rolling down his face.

You gently hit him in the chest and cry into the nook of his shoulder. There could be no better situation for you than for him to be in love with you, someone as perfect as him and kind could only be seen in fictional settings.

You speak as you sniffle, "Soobin, I love you too."

So the next thing you feel is his large hands gently cupping your cheeks as he leans down into you for a kiss. It's salty and sweet because of the tears that you taste on him, and you don't let go. It's almost as if your lips were made to mold together, as if your entire life—this is where you were supposed to end up, in his arms.

"I need to make you mine, please y/n?" Soobin breathed out as the bulge in his jeans became more evident as he grinded against you. His sexual frustration had been evident from his feelings being pent up for so long.

"Please take me, Soobin. I've been yours all along." You softly smile at him as you peer up at him. He makes you wrap your legs around his waist as he pushes you to the nearest wall, kissing down your neck as he deftly removes each piece of clothing of yours. He gently puts you on the ground only as he removes the last piece of clothing he has, until you're wrapped around his waist once again.

"You're soaking wet for me, y/n. A- ahhh, feels like—fuuuuck....feels like you were made for me." Soobin moans out as he dives his cock into you.

"Nnghhhh...soob please— I'm so close..."

"I'm—I am close as well...Cum with me y/n. Please baby, please do it for me. I love you, I love you so much, can't mmmh- can't live without you y/n..." Soobin almost begs you as he holds you so tight.

You're unable to register when it happened, but all you could see was white as you came all over his cock. His cum dripped out of you and down his cock as he was still inside. The warm spurts of his cum filling you up as his hips stutter and buck into you.

"You know that I can't live without you either, Soobin." You say as you kiss him once again.

Yeonjun

You had always known that your best friend was popular with girls since whenever you'd go around with him, you'd notice the nasty stares the girls would give you even more than usual.

There was an abundance of whispers that were intentionally loud enough for you to hear implying that you weren't good enough to be with him, and even more who would silently judge you. But, you'd brush it off since you were his best friend anyways. It had absolutely nothing to do with you, and could bother you less, but you had Yeonjun by your side and there's nothing more you could ask for. He was available at every call and beckon of yours, and neither of you questioned it. It was almost like it came to him naturally.

What you'd not understand is why so many people thought you were a couple when you were simply best friends. If only you'd have noticed the glimmer in his eyes and how they'd soften each time they landed upon your beautiful features. How his fingers would wrap around yours tighter when you'd walk across the crosswalk, or simply the change in his expression when he'd notice other men staring at you. Yeonjun realized that you're absolutely clueless to his feelings, despite thinking that he made it obvious.

Regardless, when you go to your favorite café to pick up your order, you suggest a way to pass the time quicker.

"Junnie, Let's have a staring contest! Winner gets to bake something and loser gets to wash the dishes, okay?" You speak in an excited tone, he wishes to express how he loves when your voice goes up a few decibels simply because of how excited you are, but he sticks with giving you a pretty smile of adoration instead.

"Okay y/n—1, 2.....3, start." He gently speaks as he intertwines his hands with yours and looks into your eyes. The both of you not blinking as you sit quietly in the middle of the café, easily being mistaken for a couple by any passerby once again. But, Yeonjun gets an idea to kill two birds with one stone. His expression softens even further, as he pulls the back of your hand to your lips and gives it a kiss.

"You drive me crazy, y/n." Yeonjun says.

And somehow, you start blinking to piece together what he means. He's told you he loves you before but not like this, he's kissed the back of your wrist lovingly, but not like this.

"W- what, what do you mean junnie?" You stumble over your words out of curiosity and shock.

"I mean it. I love you y/n, I want you to be the woman I wake up to every morning. I can't keep hiding my feelings for you anymore, I have to come clean and tell you the truth. I don't know how—but you never notice the smile on my face whenever someone asks if we're dating fade as you quickly call me your best friend. It's almost as if it's a horrible reality check, and I can't keep living like this. I want you to be my woman, I want you to be proud when you're walking with me on the street. And, more importantly, I need you." Yeonjun softly speaks to you as if every word of his was coated in honey, sweet and soothing.

The ride back to your home was extremely quiet and Yeonjun was as patient as he could be with you who were still shy from his confession. You hadn't uttered a word from that moment, and your face was hot to touch. After you got home, Yeonjun was afraid that he might have made the wrong move by confessing to you so suddenly. He didn't want to push you away. So, he slowly opened the door to peer into your room to ask if you're okay and apologize if it was out of line of him to say what he said.

"Y/n? Is everything okay? Did I make you uncomfortable?" He spoke with his signature pout on his plush lips in a sulky tone as he sat down onto your bed.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, I mean— junnie, it's just that I'm shocked—b- but in a good way! I d- didn't think y- you meant it in that way—" You stutter and the words stick to your tongue as if they're afraid to come out. But, Yeonjun's attentive eyes that have studied your expressions for so long know exactly what you're trying to say.

"Y/n, can i kiss you?" Yeonjun politely asks with the cutest smile on his face.

You simply nod yes, and that's enough for his lips to be on yours. As his lips slot right into yours, he drinks the taste of you in as if you were the most expensive and rare bottle of alcohol, he gets drunk off of you fast and can't seem to get enough. "Y/n....fuck. I've been waiting so long to tell you, I can't seem to get enough of you mmmh..." He speaks between his kisses.

"Junnie...please..." You say as you squeeze your thighs together now that he's hovering above you. "My baby wants me to take care of her? I've got you my love." Yeonjun knows all of your sensitive spots as he kisses them, making you feel a way only he can. Something so special behind each kiss he leaves behind, every kiss different from the previous. Yeonjun slowly lifts the hem of your shirt and looks into your eyes to check if there's any signs of hesitation, only taking it off when he knows you really want him as well.

Once all of your clothes are off, Yeonjun places you in his lap straddling him. His belt undone as he lifts his hips to rid himself of the confinement that are his stiff jeans, giving his boner no place to breathe. You drip onto his cock as he splits you apart with his hands tightly gripping your hips, slowly moving you up and down on him. "Mmmh—junnie...can't take it anymore!" You plead, and Yeonjun understands as he speeds up and bucks into you to match the way your hips move on him.

"Fuck baby—m' all yours...give it to me. Give me everything, you're mine—nnngh!" Yeonjun grunts as he spills into you, and you feel fuller than ever. You remain in his lap even as you shake in his embrace, so safe and so happy. And most importantly, you're all his, and he's all yours.

Beomgyu

Beomgyu and you had a lot of history, I mean, you basically knew him your whole life. If anything, you've memorized every expression, every tinge of emotion, every sarcastic comment, and most of all, his way of being himself. You couldn't tell if it was your intuition or what, but you felt as if something had shifted between you and Beomgyu. It wasn't that he was acting any differently— he was still beating you at every single game you played with that classic cocky smirk on his face, he was making you laugh just as much, and everything was the same. You brush it off as simply overthinking and change the topic, "Gyu! Give me your controller, the player one title is putting you at an advantage!!!".

"What if I said sitting next to you is already putting me at a disadvantage?" Beomgyu looked into your eyes and said it in his usual tone, so why did it make you so sad? It made no sense.

"W- What do you mean, gyu? Do you want me to sit somewhere else? I can g-" You sulk and say as you shift away from him on the loveseat you sat on, until you feel a warm hand gently but firmly grasp your wrist. With the stern look on his face, tears threaten to spill from your glistening eyes. "Gyu— please...I'm sorry for being annoying, I'm sorry for sitting next to you and being so loud, I'm sorry for being annoying, I'm sorry—"

"Y/n, no— that's not what I– just please stop crying, baby"

The silence in the room was so thick that you could almost hear your teardrop fall down your face. Did he just call you baby? Were you hearing things now? Beomgyu mentally cursed himself multiple times because, firstly, he made you cry. Secondly, he just accidentally (on purpose) called you baby.

"G- Gyu? D- Did you just—" You ask until your words are cut off by the feeling of Beomgyu's lips on yours. They're so soft and you forget why you were crying. You believe that if heaven had a feeling, it would feel something like this. Beomgyu reluctantly pulls back to finally tell you what he's wanted to for years now.

"You always talk too much, think too much, and jump to conclusions. why can't you just listen for once? I said it's a disadvantage to sit next to you because I can't focus on the TV screen, your eyes suck me in like some black hole and i just can't look away from all of those cute expressions you always make when you can't win against me. And, it's not even that, I lose my mind each time you call me by my nickname. You don't even know what you do to me." Beomgyu's hand lightly snakes up the side of your face as he wipes your tears away with his thumb. "Please stop torturing me, I need you to be mine."

You give him the same smile you did when you both first met long ago, and he swears that he feels exactly the same he did, he never seemed to get used to how it seemed like you were made for him. "Then why did you not give me a hug properly earlier? I've been thinking you're angry at me." You speak between sniffles.

"It's because I can't stand it when your body is pressed against mine, It physically hurts to feel how warm and soft you are and not be able to have all of you." Beomgyu spoke in a serious tone while looking into your eyes hazily. You felt horrible now, because you now realize why he always has a pillow on his lap when he comes over.

"Gyu m' sorry, let me make it up to you", with the cutest look in your eyes, you drop to your knees and get on the ground in front of the loveseat. It wasn't out of guilt or pressure, you just felt pathetic because you knew how frustrating it was to try to get yourself off after he left as you moaned out his name. "Y/n...." Beomgyu sighed.

As you sit eye level with his hips, you realize how bad it was for him, only making you move faster as you unzip his pants and pull out his leaking cock from the confines of his underwear. Your hand strokes him a few times as he lets out whiney moans while you continue your ministrations. "Ahhhh y/n mmh, fuck" Beomgyu moans out as you take him into your mouth as your tongue traces the veins on his cock as if to memorize those as well.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck. Oh my god. My fucking woman, my goooood, my pretty baby...hah—gonna fuckin cum. Take every last drop.....take it. take it. take it fuuuuuckkkk." His hands lace into your hair, somehow using the last bit of self control he has left to not start fucking into your throat. You continue bobbing your head as you suck him dry and swallow every single drop. Beomgyu's mind foggy, but only with the idea of how he's going to make sure you know how many feelings he's been holding to be exact.

"I'm going to show you just what you mean to me, baby."

-

\(>_<)/ ty for reading

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Okay, this is the second part of this, because I had so much fun writting this dynamic. Outlaw Dewdrop x Sheriff Swiss except he's also a retired legendary outlaw himself. Might not make sense without the first part.

Dew will admit it, he's a bit of an adrenaline junkie. In his line of...work...it makes sense. Close calls and near death experiences leave him thrumming with energy, giddy and exalted. But his favorite thing, oh, it's the thrill of the chase. Wether he's hunter or hunted, it never fails to get him going.

Knowing the Multi-Faced Thief is after him sure feeds into that particular addiction of his. Helps that the man is easy on the eye.

The memory of the Thief - Swiss, he learned - all up in Dew's space, leaning against the barrel of the gun, discarting the threat like one would bat flies away, his sparkling grin too bright in the low light, followed Dew even after he put miles between them.

More than a few nights, that memory, as well as many others of Swiss' voice, his amused chuckle, his careless stance, drove him to buck into his fist, spilling all over his knuckles while clutching the necklace - Swiss' - in his free hand.

And, look, Dew is smart, he trusts his guts, he's quick to get back on his feet no matter what the situation is, usually comes up on top of any face off with any other criminal, but he knows, deep down, that he's up against one of the most remarkable individual he's ever met. The Multi-Faced Thief's reputation is one for the archives, as well as his track record.

It sparks a feral kind of delight in Dew.

To be this man's sole focus - and it might be presomptuous of him, but Dew believes he is -, to occupy his thoughts...what a thrill.

Swiss finally catches up to him just as the sun is kissing the horizon, setting alight the small, inconspicuous town Dew snuck in, taking care of hidding his face.

It's the sudden agitation of his mare that alerts Dew from where he was starting to arrange the straw in a somewhat acceptable mattress for him to spend the night on - renting a room, with his infamous scar giving him away, is not an option.

By the time he's precipitately turned around, it's too late. Swiss is on him in an instant, a shadow pouncing with the efficency of Death itself. One hand one Dew's belt, the other on his shoulder, and he's thrown out the stall, rolling in the dust.

Accepting the movement is the only way not to get hurt ; Dew let himself fall, uses the momentum to immediately push up on his feet again. He doesn't get to draw his gun, though, before a strong hand wraps around both his wrists - both ? Hot. - and he's bullied against the back wall of the stable, arms pinned above his head, the cold steel of a blade kissing his throat.

The grinning face that haunted Dew's dreams for weeks is hovering above his, Swiss' eyes glinting victoriously as his chest heaves up and down.

"Hi, Dewy."

Adrenaline, sweet sweet adrenaline, has Dew's ears ringing, but it can only do so much in this position. A bit of wiggling only gets him a warningly stronger press of knife against his bobbing adam apple, so Dew resolves to snark back.

"Didn't know we were on nickname basis."

Swiss' smile widens. The hand holding Dew's wrists shifts, until he can run a thumb over the man's delicate bones there. Dew's breathing hitches the slightest bit. Swiss is warm, pleasantly so, he notes absent-mindedly. The rapidly fading light shines on multiple gold jewlery at his ears, highlights the thin sheen of sweat on the man's skin.

"I think we are," Swiss argues, voice low, close to a purr, "you know quite a lot about me, don't you ? Really studied my case, mmh ? As for me..."

Swiss tilts his head, the brim of his hat casting a deep shadow over his face, though it does nothing to hide the "cat that got the cream" expression on it.

"After following you for this long, I feel like i know you better now. You're a clever one, aren't you Dewy. Slippery little fuck."

It sounds almost fond.

Dew gives a half shrug, careful not to disrupt the blade where it sits snug against his skin.

"Didn't build my reputation on lies."

He gives it a shot then, if only for the sake of his pride, twisting his leg to try and trip Swiss. The man is too quick though, pins the offending leg with his knee, tutting.

"Now, now. Behave, will you ? I'd hate to have to damage that pretty face of yours."

"I doubt that," Dew huffs. It's a bit of a shot in the dark, but something is telling him he's right, so he pushes on. "You'd love to stake your claim, wouldn't you. Leave me with a premanent reminder of our...encounter."

Oh, the sweet way Swiss groans, throwing his head back. Looks like Dew hit the nail right on the head. Then those burning eyes are back on him and Dew is hit by the overwhelming need to keep them that way.

Swiss pushes even closer, until their chests are brushing with each breath they take. Something like hunger basks his features in feral need.

"Maybe I'll leave you with something sweet, after, but first, we have business to settle, don't we Dewy ?"

In answer Dew grins, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah, business."

He dares to lean a bit more into the knife, chasing the high of being so close to the blade, so close to Swiss, both dangerous in equal measure. The buckle of Dew's belt clinks against Swiss'.

The evening air is heavy, a powder keg only needing the slightest hint of a spark to explode.

Around Dew's wrists, Swiss' hand flex. He twists his knife until Dew has to tilt his chin up, throat even more exposed. Swiss' eyes stray on the smooth skin bared by the movement.

"My necklace, Dewy."

Oh isn't Dew going to have fun with that.

"Eager to stick your hands under my shirt, Swiss ?"

"Sure am."

In a swift motion, Swiss slices Dew's poor shirt open, slipping the knife back in his belt once it's done. The rush of air against his now bare chest has Dew involuntarily arching.

"I quite liked that one," he protests half heartedly, even as a traitorous shudder wracks through him. Swiss hums, wrapping his hand around the necklace. Now would be a good time to try something to break free, but if he's being honest, Dew's mind is far away from escape plans.

"So you did keep it...was worried you'd just sell it off somewhere."

Dew grins. Swiss' eyes flick up, back to him. Up close, he's even more beautiful. The scruff on his cheek must feel wonderfully scratchy, the two moles under his left eye too charming for such small details, the few patches of grey at his temple- far too attractive, that.

"Wanted you to keep looking for me," Dew admits, a bit breathless.

He sways and nearly falls head first into Swiss's chest when the man let go of his leg, tugging him flush againts him by the necklace, still holding his arms up.

"Oh, Dew. Wanna know a secret ?"

Without waiting for an answer, Swiss tilts his head, breathing almost directly in Dew's mouth.

"I would've kept chasing you, with or without the necklace."

That's what does it for Dew, self-control snapping. Before he's even realized what he's doing, his mouth is on Swiss'. For a split second, apprehension wraps around his spine, but then Swiss is half slamming him back against the wall, lips working against Dew's with equal frantic energy.

And oh does Swiss know what he's doing. Cupping his face with his free hand, angling it so that he can deepen the kiss, nipping at Dew's lip before swiping his tongue over it to dissipate the sting.

They're panting by the time they pull away. Slowly, Swiss releases Dew's wrists. He let his arms fall to his side, reaching for his weapon not even crossing his mind. Instead, his hands find Swiss' waist. The man grins, dark and hungry, taking his hat off with a flourish to set it on Dew's head.

There is not much sleep involved that night.

[nqueso-emergency]

I'm starting to believe that the bobs don't care about or love Eddie.

I have a sister who struggled with relationships, specially her last one and I love my sister, so we both talked and agreed that she needs to focus on her mental health and to love and treasure herself and find new hobbies and stuff.

I did not think or wanted her to jump into another relationship because how does this shit make any sense?.

She needed help not another disaster.

So with Eddie all I see them chanting about everywhere is gay Eddie gay Eddie, buddie canon buddie canon, are you guys dumb? do you ever sit down and think how stupid, shallow and pathetic you sound when you say that out loud? And to make it worse you're harassing people for it.

If my sister comes to me saying she found a new guy, god help me I'd beat her up, she's working on herself and she's the happiest I've ever seen her, enjoying her life, her workouts and her cats.

Never seen any of you wanting Eddie to get help and to get over his dead wife and to get his son back, and learn how to respect women, the guy is miserable he's a mess and all you want for him is to ride a d*ck.

If you're so desperate for two guys fucking eachother, please what do you think p*rn is for?.

Their main argument is always: bUt EdDiE iS a fiCtiOnAl cHaRacTeR iT dOesN't mAtTeR

To which I'd just like to say: so is Tommy fucking Kinard.

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

I’m by no means any sort of expert on any animal’s behavior so please feel free to ignore this random observation/ opinion.

But something I find interesting about people defending Moo Deng’s treatment is the frequent assertion that her keepers love her, as if that excuses everything. I honestly don’t doubt that her keepers love her, but that doesn’t mean their actions are appropriate.

To me it’s reminiscent of someone cornering and petting a dog against it’s will because “I just LOVE dogs!!!”. Loving the animal doesn’t mean you can’t inadvertently harm them with your actions.

Idk, I just have a lot of feelings on this and this was my attempt to sum them up. Hope it makes some sort of sense 😅

Oh yeah tell me about it! I appreciate you sharing this because I feel like I'm going insane when I see people being given the same information as I have and drawing a totally different conclusion from it.

Like... it's not okay just because they harass her a little bit. That's... not how that works.

Also I find the "trust the keeper" argument super ironic coming from someone who worked with dolphins - the species in human care that EVERYONE has an opinion on. And you'll tell people "hey, trust me on this. I see these dolphins every day. They participate in their own health care and don't do something if they don't want to. They are objectively in good welfare based on all the current data we have of what that looks like. I do behaviour records every day to prove this. And if I didn't think they were doing well, I'd be fighting tooth and nail to improve their lives or I would leave my job." (which I have done, btw)

And I'll still be told I'm enslaving dolphins and I do it for the money (when it was free labour - yay for animal industry exploitation - or absolutely bugger all). Trust the keeper... unless I watch a biased documentary packed full of misinformation. Then I know *more* than the keeper will and the keeper is just a moron who doesn't need a science degree and years of unpaid internship experience for this job!

But if it's a cute animal that has no preconceptions established of their welfare in human care? It's free game to coo over. Sure the keeper just dropped that squirming, panicking baby hippo he was trying to force into a tub! But he has so much experience because someone on reddit said so! It's actually all just desentisation! (not how desensisation works ever)

Can you tell I'm frustrated? Yeah...

Anyway I am usually the first in line to defend a zoo and their keepers - I know it's not easy to work in a zoo that's underresourced or in an education vaccum. But I'm going to call out bad handling when I see it. Especially when it's reinforced by social media clout and is being encouraged to continue by people justifying it as "desenitisation" or "actions of an experienced keeper."

[antianakin]

Saw a post about the Jedi Temple being haunted even after Palpatine made it his palace. And while I don't really like the "all Jedi are Ghosts now" angle, it would be an interesting angle to explore.

Rebels ducking behind a door and hoping the Imperials behind them don't check the door, boots stomp up to it only for their officer to yell at them. Can't they see that door is rusted over!? Nobody has opened it in years! Keep looking! And when the Rebels come out they see the previously untarnished door is covered in rust now. And there in the corner, was rust in the shape of the symbol the Jedi wore during combat. Or Imperial reports disappear only to reappear in the hands on Rebels. Or all the guns mysteriously malfunction after an order is given to slaughter civilians. And everyone that has even the slightest bit of Force Sensitivity is seeing the Ghosts of Jedi that are helping them.

This is pretty similar to the fic Haunt Me, Then from glimmerglanger who sadly deleted their entire account on AO3 a while back. It's definitely a fic that haunted my brain long after I'd read it, though, so the concept can be a really good one when done well.

The idea that the Jedi could all become ghosts sort-of goes against the worldbuilding that does exist for the Force ghosts (if any Jedi ghosts automatically after dying, why wouldn't Anakin know about that? why wouldn't Qui-Gon reach out earlier if he'd been able to do so?), but there's a lot of emotional reasons that the concept tends to hit well, obviously. Especially post Order 66, it really hits on the idea of unfinished business for the Jedi. They can't necessarily find peace and rejoin the Force until the Sith are gone and the galaxy is safe again. And the Jedi are the kind of people who would want to continue to fight to help others as long as they could, even beyond death if that was an option. Seeing them come back to help people who either didn't lift a finger to help or even cheered when the Jedi were killed is a gut-wrenching concept. Seeing them come back to help the people who killed them because they recognize the clones were just as much victims in this as they were and because they loved the clones is gut-wrenching.

It's an idea that's really emotional for a reason, even if it doesn't match with any of the established world-building. But also the ghosts have contradicted their own world-building like 5 or 6 different times already, so fuck it who cares, the Jedi can all become ghosts because the Force is now too dark to accept them all back in and they can't join it until the Sith are gone, why not. The Jedi can all become ghosts because the Force did some kind of shenanigans that caused them all to be ghosts until the Sith were gone as a response to Order 66. The ghosts make so little sense that it's not hard to come up with some kind of excuse as to why all the Jedi becoming ghosts after Order 66 might actually happen in a canon context.

[fhrlclln]

afterlife buddy | jason mendoza

SUMMARY -> your lonely life doesn't end on earth, but it reaches the afterlife. luckily, you have jason, right? even though he has his soulmate in the good place.

jason mendoza x fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> unprotected p in v, gentle sex, emotional hurt, confessions of feelings, mentions of drugs & smoking

WC -> 3.8k

a/n: writing his character is literally the hardest thing i’ve done lmaoooo. he’s so unique that i actually fear i didn’t embodied him accurately so warning he’s a little ooc!! (in my view) and i feel like jason is a great smoke buddy lmao. hope y'all like this!

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

being dead sucked.

that’s what you are thinking right now as you lie on your bed alone in your room. smoking a vape pen that janet had miraculously given you in a split second the moment you curiously asked if you could have one discreetly. well, maybe that’s one good thing about being in the afterlife… you won’t pay for your vape juices anymore. you had been in “the good place” or the afterlife for about a week. at first, you knew you weren’t supposed to be here. there was nothing that you could think of. you did something perfect to earn your place in this “heaven,” as michael had broadly said when your eyes opened and you were in that waiting room.

maybe being dead didn't really sucked. maybe you were just kind of disappointed, really. as you were welcomed into the good place, the only thing michael had said that had maybe upseted you was in fact, you apparently don't have a soulmate.

which... made you ponder for a moment how in the world did it come to that? back in your life on earth, you were always alone, in a sense. you always thought that everything ended in every relationship you had, that maybe it was just destiny leading you to your soulmate. that maybe your special someone was coming to you at any point in your dreadful life back on earth. yet, being dead now, you had thought that maybe your soulmate was here as well.

which, unfortunately, not as well.

michael had put it in a light and gentle explanation that rarely people wouldn't have a soulmate. sporadic it is, as he puts it to you in a nauseating but sympathetic tone that you somehow loathed. all you could now do was put on a smile and nod in understanding and eventually move on because you're dead, after all. and maybe the worst part of being dead was after michael had explained to you that you're all alone in a good place. after the opening orientation, he introduced you to the many people in the neighborhood and their soulmates. you were introduced to eleanor and chidi, then to tahani and her soulmate, the silent monk jianyu.

or rather... jason mendoza.

a lot of things happened after your first day in the good place. you obviously were self-aware that you weren't supposed to be here. things did start to get weird after tahani's welcoming party for the whole neighborhood and the incident in the heart of the town. you thought for a moment that it might be you who was causing the unexplained glitches happening, and that's when you met another soul who also thinks they aren't supposed to be here either, eleanor shellstrop. after that, that's when you met jason; he as well wasn't supposed to be in a good place either.

your mouth feels dry, and even in the afterlife, you still get cottonmouth from overusing your puffs. this is torture. you think to yourself as you sit up, wondering if you should have agreed to be in chidi's ethics class. you don't really care if you are going to be sent to the bad place. where did you even belong, really?

you close your eyes, dropping your vape pen on your chest as you let out a tired sigh. you reel into the silence of your home, the dimness of the room shielding away the light, making it feel like you are back in your own lonely home on earth. the overwhelming feeling is still there, it never goes away. but your moment of loneliness is interrupted when you hear the front door open loudly.

"i'm not interested, eleanor. please." you immediately say before the visitor can say something.

"hey! cool, you have a vape!" your eyes shot open to see jason come in, dressed in his cream monk clothes. there's a grin spread across his face as he points to your vape pen. "can i take a hit?"

"oh, it's you." you chuckled, and he seemed puzzled at your acknowledgment towards him.

"why? is there another jason here!?" he says, looking around quickly, which makes you laugh out loud.

"here." you sit up, handing him your vape, and he immediately takes it from your hands, sitting next to you. "there's no other you, jason. it's only you." you reassure him, no matter how dumb it sounds.

"good!” he takes a puff, then sighing out the vapor in complete relaxation. “but having another me would be so dope, dude. imagine, if they find out i’m not supposed to be here, then i’ll turn the other jason in so i won’t go to the bad place.”

“that sounds like a plan. but you’ll turn him in?” you raise your brow as he takes another hit.

“yeah, homie! if i turn him in, it means i did something good… so, technically i did something good!” he smiled widely, you chuckled, shaking your head. witnessing him be himself was actually a refreshing thing you are feeling now.

“but that would mean michael will have to send you to the bad place too… because technically you’re also jason?” you hummed and his brows furrow at that, processing it. he looks cute thinking deeply. you thought as he hands your vape back.

“oh…” he frowns. “that sucks.”

“it does.” you nod, taking a hit.

“man, why does everything have to be so hard! you know, whenever i had a problem, i always throw a molotov to get rid of it. but chidi and eleanor said that was stupid.” you almost cough out the vapor you’re inhaling, surprised at that.

“a molotov?” you giggled, finding it funny. it seemed arson was his solution to all his problems… and concerning.

“yeah! you should try throwing one, homie. i swear, it’s a game changer because your previous problem turns into a new one! so, you don’t have to worry about your old problem anymore.” he explained.

“that’s… oddly effective, actually.” you think about it. jason’s eyes sparkled at that as he turns to you.

“i could show you how to do it, dude! we can start throwing it at michael’s office! the powerhouse of our problems!” he says excitedly. “this will be so dope. maybe janet has something i can light up, this will be so lit.”

he stands up, ready to call on janet. your eyes widened and you pulled him back to the bed. arson was not at your top list for the moment of trying to avoid being sent to the bad place.

“woah!” you say, and he looks at you confused.

“okay, calm down, jason. we’ll do that if everything else fails.” you reassured him, but lying that you’re actually not really planning on doing that with him. even though he’s so sweet to offer you to teach you how to do it, in a way even if it was borderline crazy.

“this sucks. i thought being in the good place won’t suck.” he pouts, sitting next to you.

"what brings you here, jason?" you finally ask him, his frown still plastered across his face as he looks at you. he fiddles with his fingers as you hand him your vape.

"eleanor said that i should go to you so you can finally join us."

you sigh, lying on your bed. "tell her i'm good. thanks."

"you're not good... you're you." he emphasized with puppy eyes, and you laughed. "so you're not gonna come with us?"

"no." you shake your head. "what's the point of learning to be good when i'm supposed to be in the bad place?"

"you get to be in the good place." he responds, taking a hit.

"i don't know, jason." you shrugged, looking at the ceiling blankly. "that doesn't mean i belong here."

"you do belong here!" he suddenly argues, looking over to your laid figure. "you're kind and nice to me. eleanor says i'm an idiot... but you don't think i'm an idiot, right?"

your hearts skips a beat at that. "no, jason. i don't think you're an idiot." you smiled.

"you sure you don't want to come with me?" he pouts.

"i'm okay right here."

"then i'll stay here with you." he decides, lying beside you. you feel the bed dip on your side as you turn your head to look at him, your own heart fluttering at his kindness. "I'll be your afterlife buddy or homie."

"afterlife buddy, huh?" you smiled at that. "i like that."

you two just lay there on your bed without thinking about the main problem. casually passing the vape pen back and forth while talking about random things, very random things from jason. you learned he was a dj from jacksonville, florida. he loves buffalo wings, he sold drugs to college students, loves the jacksonville jaguars, and did pretty stupid things, but you listened nonetheless. you actually opened up a bit about what happened in your life. he listened, and everything felt like at that moment, you weren't thinking about your situation right now.

"what's it like having a soulmate?" you ask him now as you blow a ring out of your mouth afterward with the vapor. jason hums as you pass him back the vape.

"i don't know. tahani doesn't know i'm not supposed to be here... but i guess living in her mansion was the dopest part." he says.

"do you think tahani's really your soulmate?" you shyly asked, ignoring the lingering jealousy you have for them.

"i always thought ariana grande was going to be my soulmate." he genuinely said, trying to mimic how you puff out rings but failed. you giggled at that and fell silent. you ignore that bitter feeling that's nagging you. you grab the vape from him, opting to teach him how to do the trick rather than to be affected by the notion that you don't have a soulmate.

"here. you put your mouth into an 'o' shape." you say, adjusting your position to lay on your stomach as he watches you take a puff. "then like, slowly exhale while your tongue and jaw push the vapor out."

"cool." he stares at you as you puff several rings out. you hand it back to him, and he tries it, but he is too fast to exhale, and his mouth is a little bit wider than what you showed him, making the rings not stick out.

"almost!" you laugh at him as you scoot over to teach him how. "put your mouth like this."

your a bit closer to him, making your arm brush against his while your hand goes to his lips. your face an inch above his, so close. he watches you guide him, your finger brushing lightly against his lower lip as you softly guide him to make his 'o' shaped mouth into what you showed him. you stare at his lips, wondering how lucky tahani must be with him.

"and there." you say, dropping your hand to his chest. jason's eyes shyly avert away for a moment from you, something in him bothering him, but he utters it out nonetheless.

"what if i was your soulmate?"

you're stunned for a moment, realizing how close you are to him. you stutter for a moment while his eyes go wide and expecting, as if he's looking at a pikachu balloon he desperately wants. what if? that question of his rings through your head? there's hope in your heart for a moment. but... you shake your head sadly. that would be unlikely.

"jason..." you're about to argue, but he cuts you off.

"i think so." he says, staring into your eyes. you don't know what to say, looking at his puppy face, feeling like a fool. you don't know... do you deserve jason to be your soulmate? you blink back to reality.

"you don't have to cheer me up because i don't have one." you willed yourself to detach from him, missing his warmth. you sat up, averting his gaze. jason frowns, confused as to why you seemed so sad at that.

"but-"

"you should go now. i think eleanor and chidi are looking for you." you almost want to strangle yourself for dismissing him like that. there you are again, always avoiding what's right before you. jason sits up, this time he doesn't know what to say. he stands up, confused and sad, but he respects your wish to be alone now. your back is turned to him, and you wince when you hear him leave. your heart ached, and the loneliness creeped back into your room. hugging you in the darkness.

if only. you think hopelessly, lying back down. if fucking only.

・゜゜・．

fuck.

your fingers dig into the flesh of your lap, now that eleanor has officially told the entire neighborhood including michael, about her not belonging here has you on edge lately. while you did escape from being interrogated in michael's office that day, that hasn't been the only thing that has been bugging you.

jason isn't talking to you.

you feel like a loser, a fool, and an idiot. should you have just agreed with him that day? the only person you actually talk to has decided to ignore your presence, which was very unlikely of jason since you had met his real self than jianyu. you want to ask chidi for help... but he has his dilemma now with tahani and eleanor. who would you call to?

"janet!" you immediately blurt out of desperation. you hoped her rebooting was in the middle since you really need her right now.

"hi, there!" janet pops up in front of you. you jump in your place, still unused to her sudden appearance every time. "what can i do for you?"

"uhm..." you feel slightly embarrassed to ask of this. "h-how is jason doing?"

"jason is currently watching t.v in his room, but he says he's upset because he's in big trouble and that he upsetted you." she says with a smile. you gulp harshly, running your hand across your face as you sigh loudly.

"fork." you muttered, annoyed that you can't even correctly swear right now.

"it appears to me that you are also upset now." janet looks at you, and you look at her with tired eyes. you sit on your couch, while janet observes you with her usual cheery face. you think for a moment how to fix all of this, your stay in the good place is nearing its end, and you feel like at any minute now, you'll be boarding the train to the bad place. if jason managed to stay... at least you can leave him with a positive impression as a goodbye.

"janet?"

"yes?"

"can you make some buffalo wings?"

"sure!"

anticipation lingers through the air when janet leaves in an instant. you hoped he would find your apology gift to end his thoughts about how he upset you. but you upset him. because you pushed him away, still thinking that you don't deserve anyone as pure and kind as jason is. why were you holding back? why were you still trying to push away your feelings for him? when it was evident he thought the same of you. as you lay on the couch, you pondered if you should have given him the gift instead of janet. you close your eyes, wanting to bury yourself in the ground.

a sudden frantic knocking makes you jolt up.

you quickly stand up, fearing that michael has asked you to return to his office. you rush to your front door, readying yourself as you hesitantly open it. but… you were then met with the sight of a nervous-looking jason.

your eyes softened. "hey..."

"i love you." he deadpans, face serious as ever. your eyes widened, your heart stopped for a moment, and so did the apology in your head for him. you're about to say something but he takes a deep breath before coming closer to you.

"i just want you to know that you're like whippets to me... addicting that i can't live without it. you're pretty like those lights in a skrillex concert and make my heartbeat drop like when i overdose on hard drugs. and you're the only person here who's nice to me and you're my afterlife buddy. and you remembered that i like those buffalo wings from my favorite restaurant even though janet said they closed, and you managed to make a replica to cheer me up." he stops, fidgeting with his hands as he shyly averts your gaze. "so... i love you, homie. and wanna be there for you."

you're stunned, not knowing what to say. the tingling feeling crawls back into your heart. but you don't say anything else as you pull him to you for a kiss. he kisses you back, softly cupping your cheeks. you finally let yourself out of your shell. it was so sweet, warm, and comforting to be wanted. you wrap your arms around his neck, guiding him inside your house as your hand pushes to close the front door. you pull away for a moment, wanting to see his reaction.

"woah..." he merely says, starstruck as he blinks dumbly. "also, i love your ass. does this mean you'll have sex with me?"

you rest your hands on his chest as his breath hits your nose. how wide and doe-eyed they were, but evident that there's lust behind it. you giggled, how forward he is as you think about it. anytime you both would be coming with eleanor to the bad place if michael finds out, and maybe you two won't see each other again. and that breaks your heart for a moment how little time you two have.

fuck it. why not?

"okay." you say with a smile as you grab his arm to drag him to your room. jason smiles wildly, jumping a bit in excitement as he lets you drag him to your room.

the entire room feels heavy. your eyes blink hazily as you toss your head back when you feel his lips trace the hollow of your neck down to your breasts. clothes were thrown carelessly on the floor, the sheets were now ruffled, both of you were naked, and everything felt hot. you let out a breathy sigh when he takes one of your pert nipples into his mouth, sucking.

fuck. was this jason? you're slightly baffled at how this goofball of a man turned into something else. your hand comes up to caress his black hair down to the back of his neck, your legs are wrapped around his waist as he grinds his hips slowly. your lips feel so swollen from his kisses and your heart is beating loudly at the sight of him above you.

his head suddenly rose up, letting your nipple go as he rested his cheek on your chest, looking at you with a small grin on his face. "they're like clouds... so soft."

"you're adorable." you whisper, your hand on his hand, caressing his scalp, making him hum in satisfaction at your touch. he continues to subtly grind his crotch against yours, the friction of his prick rubbing against your core making you whine.

"jason..." you whined, and he propped himself up to tower over you, adjusting himself as he sat on his knees. "i love you too."

his heart skips a beat completely as he makes a noise of that. "can i?"

his eyes drift down to that spot on the apex of your thighs. he looks so out of it, so serious, as you nod. you place your hands on his biceps, gripping his muscles as he takes himself in his hand to gently guide himself in you. you steady yourself, pushing your hips slightly forward as you are rewarded with the sensation of his tip prodding your wet entrance. you let out a tiny moan while jason surges forward to lock lips with yours again.

"o-oh!" you look down to see how he's entering you slowly. his chest rises as his face hovers against your warm cheek. "you know... i almost thought that being in the afterlife would make my vagina go away." you randomly said, wondering why you said that. but you were too drunk in the pleasure of him filling you up inch by inch, his cock now nestled deep inside you to even think of your own words.

"then where will i go inside you?" he genuinely asks, and that makes you grin devilishly.

"in my mouth." you kiss the tip of his nose. he seems to want to ask you about that further, but you shut him up by grinding your hips up. he groans, his entire focus is now thrusting in and out of you slowly. not hurrying up and it seems you two both like this slow pace.

soft kisses are shared as he languidly thrusts into you. gentle caresses and bites are plastered across both of your skins. the sheen sweat is glistening on both of your foreheads as you both are so lost in the sensation of each other. you stare into his eyes, your warm walls clenching around him as his thumb rubs your clit. you wondered how skilled he is with all of this, knowing where your sweet spots are, and how calculated his thrusts are. he's so different in bed that it makes you want to explore more of this side of him.

"i'm close." you breathily say, your hands moving to grasp his neck, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach. jason's thrusts are starting to falter. he's also near his high as he thrusts into you with more vigor. a stream of moans of his name rings through his ears, he makes it his goal for you to cum first as he continues to rub your bead.

you let out a mewl, head tossing back and eyes shutting tight as you bit your lip when the tip of his cock hits that spongy spot in you. your whole body seizes with pleasure, back arching as his other hand holds your hips down for him to continue his hard thrusts. your walls clench around him, riding your orgasm now as he says your name breathily. he then pushes his hips completely to yours, his own orgasm coming at him as he finally cums in you.

"bortles." he sighed before he dropped his whole weight onto you. your brows furrowed, wondering why he said his favorite football player's name at the end of his orgasm. instead of being annoyed, you giggled, making him smile widely as he looked up at you as you lovingly caressed his back.

"do you think we're soulmates?" he suddenly asks, and you don't hesitate for an answer now, even though you two weren't or maybe were. who cares?

"yes."

[lucy90712]

Ruben Dias fluff!! Any thing you want, I trust you

Having kids is the most stressful and rewarding thing I've ever done but I wouldn't have it any other way. The biggest downside is that Ruben doesn't get to be around as much as he's like to as he's always got training or matches but when he's around he always spends every second helping me or playing with our oldest son Milo even if he's tired he treasures every second he gets to spend at home with us. 

Since I gave birth to our daughter Ruben has barely been home he got a couple of days off training and then it's been all go since. There has been matches every weekend and then champions league during the week so he's hardly been home which makes life difficult. Caring for a newborn and entertaining a two year old on little to no sleep is exhausting but Ruben helps where he can and he even gets his brother to come over when he's not around which is a great help. 

This weekend Ruben finally has a few days off after such a packed schedule Pep gave all the players a couple days off training to rest and recuperate ready for the next run of games. Rest isn't a thing in our household right now but I don't think Ruben minds he just wants to be home and actually spend time with the kids. I know he feels awful that he hasn't got to bond with our daughter Alice as much as he'd want to as he's not here during the day when she's awake and looking around but I always send him pictures and videos so he feels like he's involved too. 

Just like every morning I expected to be woken up at the crack of dawn by a toddler screaming in the baby monitor and a newborn crying right next to my head. When I woke up and saw that it was nearly 9am I freaked out and then when I saw that the baby wasn't in her bassinet I nearly had a panic attack. That's when my sensible brain took over my mum brain and I realised that Ruben also wasn't in bed next to be so he must have Alice and that made me feel so much better. After I calmed down I got out of bed and headed downstairs where I could already hear the chaos which is weirdly nice to hear. When I finally made it downstairs I saw Ruben in the kitchen holding Alice while trying to make pancakes and with Milo at his feet. I took Alice from him quickly so he could focus on breakfast but before I knew it I was also holding Milo as he's definitely a mama's boy and he doesn't like to leave my side when I'm around. 

"Thank you for letting me sleep in you didn't have to do that I know you're tired too" I said 

"You don't have to thank me I know you don't get much sleep and you need it to deal with those two I get to sleep when I’m away for matches so it's only fair that you get to have a lay in" he said 

"Well I still appreciate it I feel like a new woman now" I laughed 

"Good and I've got breakfast all ready for you" Ruben said while handing me a plate of pancakes 

We ate breakfast as a family or our version of eating as a family which is taking a bite of our own food every few minutes after having to cut bits up for Milo and sometimes having to feed it to him when he refuses to eat. Then more often than not Alice seems to sense when I'm eating and all of a sudden wants feeding so I have to eat with just one hand. Ruben had managed to get Milo to eat all of his pancakes while I still had a mostly full plate as I was feeding Alice so Ruben switched his attention to me and cut my pancakes and fed them to me like the perfect husband he is. 

To spend some quality time together Ruben suggested we go to the park and seeing as I've got him to help me I had no reason to disagree. He took care of getting Milo ready while I got Alice ready and we made it out the house as a family of four for the first time which sounds crazy as Alice is three weeks old now but Ruben's been around so little we haven't had the chance to go anywhere all together yet. Leaving the house is never easy but eventually we got out the house with me having Alice in the carrier and pushing the stroller while Milo walked as he refused to get in the stroller. 

The walk to the park isn't a long one so we got there pretty quickly and when we did Milo took off and made a beeline straight for the slide as he loves going down the slide. Ruben followed close behind while I found somewhere to sit with Alice as she was due a feed before she naps again. Watching Ruben play with Milo made me a little emotional hearing Milo laughing as Ruben chased him around the park is exactly how I pictured parenthood there is no better sound than hearing your child laughing it always fills my heart with joy. Milo can be difficult at times which I think comes down to missing his dad but I couldn't care less about that when I get to see the two of them happy and playing together. 

"Mama come play" Milo said as he ran over to me 

"I would love to play with you buddy but mama's still recovering I can push you on the swing if you'd like though" I said 

"Yeah let's go mama" he said running off again 

I gave Alice to Ruben so I could push Milo on the swing which he thoroughly enjoyed he wanted to go higher and higher until I physically couldn't push him any higher. As he was swinging Ruben started to pull faces at him from across the park which only made him laugh more. This is exactly why I think Ruben is the best dad he has always been so great since the moment Milo was born our kids just love to be around him as he always makes them happy. It wasn't long before Milo wanted to get out of the swing so I got him out and he dragged me off to the rest of the play equipment which I wasn't going to go on as I'm only just three weeks post partum but I just can't say no to him. We climbed up the climbing wall and ran around the little castle type thing it brings you to before going down the slide which was more than enough for me. 

We stayed at the park for a while longer until Milo had run out of energy and climbed into the stroller himself. Ruben took the stroller which now also had Alice in too and held my hand as we walked back home. Both kids fell asleep in the stroller so Ruben and I kept walking even when we went past the house so they'd known stay asleep and we could have some peace. We decided to walk into town and got some fresh bread and other things to make lunch when we got back home. As soon as the stroller stopped Milo woke up and wanted to get out so Ruben unbuckled him and off he went to play with his toys. 

Our afternoon started out much the same as our morning with us trying to get Milo to sit still long enough to eat lunch and then we went straight back to playing. As a family we all played with Milo's trucks and cars in the little world he's created where they all have a role. The things kids come up with is just fascinating their little minds are so creative. Before Milo was born Ruben and I spent countless evenings wondering what kind of personality he would develop but I would've never predicted that he'd be such a character he's always making me laugh with the things he comes out with but he's also such a kind little boy he always thinks about me and his sister. 

After a long day of running around and playing the kids were definitely tired and of course right after dinner Milo cuddled up to my side and fell asleep while Alice slept on my chest and Ruben had his arm around my waist as I leant against his shoulder. We took a few moments to just relax and enjoy the calm as that doesn't happen often. Eventually Ruben picked up Milo and took him to bed and I was going to put Alice in her bassinet and grab the baby monitor but he told me to stay put and he'd do it and I wasn't going to argue. He did exactly what he promised and then he came back to bring me upstairs as he'd started to run me a bath. 

I enjoyed my bath very much it was so relaxing I could feel the tension in my muscles that had built up over the last few weeks just disappear in the warm water. When I got out Ruben had pyjamas ready for me on the bed which I changed into and joined him in bed. He pulled me into his arms and started to press kisses all over my face which I've missed so much as I either sleep alone while Ruben is away or we don't get a moments peace as Alice has always been fussy at night. Tonight everything was quiet and it was amazing Ruben and I could enjoy some quality time together which we haven't had in a couple months. 

"I don't know how you deal with this all day everyday I'm exhausted" Ruben said 

"You get used to it some days they are calmer than others I think Milo was just excited you were around" I said 

"I'm sorry I haven't been here more I know the kids miss me but I can tell you miss me too even if you want say it" he said 

"It's ok I know why you aren't around it's not like you're out with friends while I'm here with two kids and yeah I miss having you here but that's selfish so I don't mention it" I admitted 

"Its not selfish you're allowed to feel like that and wish things were different I understand that things are hard and you'd like me to be around to help more that's not selfish I promise" he said 

"Everything is worth it though when we get moments like today and when Milo gets to watch you play on tv the hard moments don't matter anymore" I said

"I can't wait for Alice to come to her first game even if she doesn't remember I still remember when you first brought Milo along that was up there with one of the best days of my life" Ruben said 

"Maybe once we've both had our six week check up I'll bring her along to a game but we'll need to get her some little ear defenders" I said

"Of course but remember if you aren't ready you don't have to stick to that I'd much rather wait until you'll actually have a good time as it's supposed to be a good memory for all of us" he said 

We talked for a bit longer before Ruben turned a movie on and I knocked out within a few minutes as I didn't realise how tired I was but I fell asleep feeling completely happy and fulfilled.