#// oh and let me know when you want to close the thread cuz this dude it outta there ahfdkjs

[galaxofmuses]

"......Big Mistake." Dealing with this shapeshifter is one thing, but for her calling him just a human? That made him snap. At this point he is absolutely reaching his limit.

He is so exhausted. So aggravated.

The patience wore off and unleashing a bit of his demonic strength to pry the girl off by forcefully shoving her a few feet away. Knowing that he has no time and takes out Yamato to slash open a portal and he enters in without turning back this time. He knows where to go thanks the map. As he steps into the portal it closes off behind him.

There he tried again, threatening with the damn sword. Her grip tightened however, eyes glowing red. "All you humans are the fucking same aren't you. Use, use , use and then toss away when you are done."

[jean-kayak]

Highlight Of The Summer

Summary: You’re staying with your cousin for the summer, and it turns out to be the best decision you’ve ever made

OR

The four times you tease Matsukawa and the one time he pays you back

Pairing: Matsukawa Issei x black!fem!reader

Warnings: a whole lot of sexual tension, sexual tendencies, use of drugs: weed, shotgunning, a whole lot of teasing, (smut 18+!!), unprotected sex (stay safe out there dudes!), fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (m. receiving), throat fucking, ass slapping, daddy kink, nipple play, little fluff and aftercare at the end LMAO

Word Count: 5,847 (words of just filth)

A/N: I don’t know if y’all know, but I am a WHORE for Mattsun, so please enjoy this for you fellow people who agree with me. Also, this was wayyy longer than I thought it was going to be, but whew chile I got flustered just writing it lmao, so here y’all go. P.S: I also mention something about a sleep bra? Like a bra that’s not a bra bra but it’s not a sports bra either?? Idk what it’s called so, I just called it a sleep bra lol

PART TWO//PART THREE

"I forgot to mention, I need to warn you, dude," Hanamaki speaks up as he passes the ball to Matsukawa, who continues peppering, but now there's a confused look on his face.

"Warn me about what?" he questions playfully, spiking a controlled ball to Makki.

"My cousin's coming into town, and she’s staying the whole summer." Makki's words show that he's annoyed, and Mattsun chuckles.

"Okay. Still doesn't tell explain why you had to warn me."

"She's crazy, man. And gets on my last nerve." Mattsun chuckles again at his best friend's opinion. He goes to respond, but a voice stops him before he can speak.

"Hiro!!" Hanamaki catches the ball as his head drops as he lets out a groan. Mattsun watches a figure run up behind Makki, and they wrap an arm around his shoulders, catching him off guard as his body falls forward slightly. "How's my favorite cuzzo doing, huh?"

"Was doing just fine until you came," he spits, and you laugh.

"Oh, come on, cuz, don't be like that. I know you love me deep down, don't fight it." You laugh again when he throws your arm off his shoulders, and your laugh stops when you land on the guy standing a few feet away from him. "Now, Hiro, why didn't you tell me that you had hot friends?"

Mattsun feels his face heat up at your sudden compliment as he lets out a choked laugh. You walk forward a bit as you start talking. "I'm l/n f/n, but I'm willing to change my last name to yours. Care to tell me what it is?"

You finish with a smirk, and you can help but feel more confident when he gives you a slow once over. "Ma--"

"None of your business," Makki cuts him off, and you roll your eyes as you turn to him.

"Oh, come on, man, don't be like that. I'm gonna find out anyway because I'm gonna be staying with you." His eyes widen at your statement as you smile widely at him. "Oh, you didn't hear? Our moms thought it was a good idea to let me stay with you. For the whole summer." You pause before saying the last sentence for dramatic effect, and your smile doesn't falter as Hanamaki's scowl gets deeper.

"You have to be fucking with me right now," he says, and you shake your head eagerly, knowing that he can't refuse.

"Nope. I'll go get my bags from the car." You bound over towards him, wrapping your arm around his shoulders before rubbing the top of his head with your fist. "This is going to be so much fun," you say excitedly, and he shoves you off of him.

You chuckle and start to walk off to your car, but not before you send a wink to the hot guy standing in front of you.

You bounce happily to your car, and Makki lets out a tired sigh as he fixes his hair, his face showing how pissed he is when he looks at Mattsun, making him chuckle. "She's...something."

"ONE more game, alright?" Makki pleads, and Mattsun rolls his eyes but gives in.

"Fine." Mattsun's phone dings twice and he picks it up quickly before Makki can see the screen.

"Someone important?" he jokes, and Mattsun doesn't look him in the eye as he struggles to find an answer. "You gonna tell me who it is?" Mattsun gives him a look that tells it all, and Makki scoffs. "How'd she get your number?"

"From your phone obviously, Hiro," you bud in, your face right next to Makki's as he jumps away from you. "You know your phone password is really easy. You should change that."

"What did you do?" he asks, and you wave him off as you stand upright behind the couch.

"Oh, relax, just his number...and I sent a few selfies of you to myself." Makki scoffs again as he turns to look at you. "You know, to post for your birthday."

Makki releases an angry sigh as he stands, mumbling something about going to the bathroom, and you roll your eyes at his dramatics as you smile.

You glance at Mattsun, who's not looking your way, and a devilish smirk makes it way onto your face as an idea comes to your mind, your core pulsing at the idea of it.

"You know, Hiro always loved to collect movies," you say out loud, more to yourself, testing how he reacts.

"Yeah, it's gotten bigger since I've last seen it," he responds easily, and you hum as you walk around the couch, making your way towards the entertainment center around the TV full of movies.

"It's been a while since I've seen it, but it's definitely grown since then." When you get to the entertainment center, you bend over to look at the movies on the lower shelves when you hear Mattsun's breath hitch behind you.

You know that these are a shorter pair of your shorts, you must've put these in the dryer by accident, and you can feel that a good portion of your ass is out, and the fact that you know he's watching you, sends a jolt right down to your core.

You don't know what it is about this guy, but teasing him riles you so easily that you can feel your juices staining your shorts. You bend over a little further, and your smirk widens when you hear a muffled groan come from behind you.

When you hear footsteps coming from the hallway, you stand back up and turn around, the both of you keeping your eyes on each other as you walk towards the couch just as Makki is coming into the living room.

Makki sits where he was sitting, his attention still on his phone, and you walk to the back of the couch, leaning down next to Mattsun's ear, the one that Hiro can't see.

"If it wasn't obvious," you whisper just loud enough for him to hear, "that wet spot was for you." Your tongue darts out to touch his earlobe, pulling on it lightly with your teeth, chuckling softly when you see his hands grip the controller harder.

You stand up and start walking out of the living room. "Make sure you guys keep the noise down, 'kay?" you say as you disappear down the hallway.

Meanwhile, Mattsun's solely focusing on not getting a boner with his best friend right next to him. "She say something nasty to you?" Makki speaks up, making Mattsun jump.

"W-What?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. She's always saying some out of pocket shit." Makki clearly doesn't understand what kind of out of pocket statement you just said to him, and he clears his throat as he nods, thinking about anything but you as he tries to control himself.

TWO sounds come from behind you as you're sitting in the backyard. A sliding door and footsteps coming closer to you. "I'd knew you'd join me sooner or later."

He chuckles. "Yeah, well, I wanted to see what your definition of 'surprise' was."

You laugh lightly as you reveal your surprise without looking at Mattsun, the little plastic bag in your hand.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Yep," you respond, popping the 'p' as you turn to him. "Found Hiro's secret stash. Wanted a smoke buddy. You down?"

You look back at him, and he shrugs saying fuck it as he sits in the lounge chair next to yours. You roll the first one, putting it in your mouth as you flick the lighter. You take the first drag, coughing a little as you blow out the smoke. "Damn. Should've known that Hiro had the strong stuff."

You pass it to Mattsun who does the same as you before passing it back to you. You both pass it back and forth two more times before you speak again. "You ever shotgunned before?" you ask, your brain already feeling like it's slowing down. He keeps his eyes on you as he shakes his head slowly.

"Wanna try?" He thinks about it for a second before nodding once. You clumsily find your way to get up without dropping the blunt and walk over to where he's sitting. You rest your free hand on his shoulder as you lift one leg, moving it to the other side of the chair as you straddle him.

You bite your lip as you sit on his lap, feeling him through the thin material of both of your shorts. His hands find purchase on your waist, his fingers rubbing on the exposed skin under your crop top.

You keep your eyes on his as you pull from the blunt, and your other hand finds the back of his head, your fingers threading through his hair as you bring his head closer, your lips dangerously close to touching.

You breathe out, both of you watching the smoke go from your mouth to his. You watch as he breathes in then tilts his head up to breathe the smoke out. He blinks slowly as he tilts his head back down, both of you maintaining eye contact as he grabs the blunt out of your hand.

You watch as he takes a hit, and one of his hands runs up your back to grab at your neck, a shiver running through your spine the opposite way. He pulls your head down, lips brushing against each other as he exhales into your mouth.

You inhale deeply, lifting your head as you breathe the smoke out. You look back down, keeping your head in the same position, making your lips touch again. "I noticed that you sometimes sleep on the couch," you speak up, your lips keeping close contact, you're almost kissing him.

"Well, the bed I usually sleep in is taken," he quips back, and you lean into his ear.

"You could always join me. I don't bite," you whisper, and you roll your hips forward, and you don't miss the way he releases a shaky breath in your ear, the sound going south easily. "Whaddya say?"

"THREE scoops of ice cream should be enough," you say to yourself as you put the top back on the ice cream container, placing it in the freezer.

You grab a spoon from one of the drawers and find a seat at the island in the kitchen. You're halfway through your ice cream when you hear footsteps coming into the kitchen. "Who eats ice cream at three in the morning?"

You smile at the question as you dig into your ice cream. "Me. What about it?" The owner of the voice walks into your view, standing on the other side of the island. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

He shakes his head. "Nah, I couldn't go to sleep anyway," Mattsun answers honestly. He hasn't been able to sleep well every time he's over here. You suddenly filling up every one of his desires. But one day, he's going to get back at you. The more you tease him, the more he gets riled up.

"Want some?" you ask, sticking the spoon in your mouth and dragging it out slowly, his eyes never leaving your mouth. He nods silently, and you put some ice cream on the spoon, moving the spoon towards his mouth.

He grabs your hand, moving the spoon towards his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. He slowly pulls the spoon out of his mouth, letting go of your hand. "Tastes really good." He stands up, leaning over the counter. "And you've got some," he reaches his hand out, his thumb gliding over your bottom lip. "Right there."

He puts his thumb in his mouth, licking it clean before he smirks at you. Two can play at this game.

You grab his hand, leading it over top of your bowl. "And you've got some," you dip his finger into some of the melted ice cream. "Right there."

You coat it in the creamy liquid before lifting it up to your mouth. Staring right at him, you put the digit in your mouth, tongue flicking all around it, making sure you get all of it off.

He lets out a garbled 'fuck' and you pop the finger out of your mouth, giving him a proud smirk.

"FOUR pancakes? You're gonna eat four pancakes at once?" Mattsun asks his pink-haired friend as said friend stacks them on his plate.

"Yeah, I am," he deadpans, "and you better go wake Y/N up or else she's not getting anything." Makki takes the plate, walking out of the kitchen as Mattsun takes a deep breath as he walks to your room.

He knocks on the door, and when he doesn't get a response, he cracks open the door to see you on your stomach, covers sprawled out everywhere. He lets out a small huff as he smiles, walking towards your sleeping figure.

He can't help it, and the first thing he does is rake his eyes down your body, one leg bent at the knee, the other one straightened out. Your shorts have come up in your sleep, your butt on display, and Mattsun diverts his eyes as he calls your name.

You don't respond, and he leans down to shake you gently. You turn your head, and he can see that your eyes are still closed. "Y/N." He says your name a little louder, shaking you a little harder.

You stir and your eyes open slightly, a sleepy smile coming onto your face when they land on him. "Hey, Issei." You take a deep breath, and Matsukawa ignores the way your sleepy voice saying his name makes him feel. "What's up?"

Your legs switch positions, making your ass shake from the movement, and he wills himself not to look. "Makki made pancakes," is all he can manage to get out, and you roll over on your side to stretch, but that doesn't make things better for Mattsun. Your boobs falling out of the sleep bra you're wearing.

He looks away, willing the thoughts to go away as you stand up, fixing your clothes as you yawn. "You're not gonna put a shirt on?" he asks as you head for the door, and you wave him off.

"Nah, it's too hot. And you like the view too, so..." You trail off, walking out the room as Matsukawa's face turns red.

He takes another deep breath as he follows after you, and you've already made a plate. "Jeez, Y/N, couldn't you put some clothes on?" Hiro complains from his place on the couch and you shrug.

"Well, when you stop turning off the air conditioning during the hottest day of the summer, I would have some clothes on." You pour syrup over your pancakes, and when you see Mattsun watching you, you slide out of your cousin's view.

You put the syrup down before dipping your fingers in the pile of syrup that dripped down from the pancakes onto your plate. You coat them in syrup, lifting your fingers up in front of your mouth, spreading them apart watching the strings connect your fingers.

You look right at him as you stick your fingers in your mouth, and as much as he needs to, he can't look away, and he's teetering on the edge of a dangerous cliff. You see his fists clench as he pushes his lower half into the island.

You pull your fingers out when they're clean, and you walk towards him, setting the bottle of syrup next to his plate. "Seems like you've got a problem there. Let me know if I can help." You walk out, sending him a wink over your shoulder, and he waits until you're out of view to slam his head onto the counter.

"FIVE minutes until what?" Makki asks into his phone, and you see his face drop before he slaps a palm on his forehead. "Shit, that's today? Okay okay, relax, I'll be there in like fifteen." He hangs up the phone, and you watch as he runs into his room, and when he comes out, he dressed a little more formally.

"Wow, who are you getting all dressed up for?" you ask, spreading out on the couch.

"I forgot about this thing my friend wanted me to attend to." He makes sure he has everything before booking it to the door, but not before he turns to you. "Y/N, please behave."

You roll your eyes. "Sure thing, Dad. Have fun." And he leaves.

You lay down on your back on the couch, humming a tune to a song you can't bring yourself to remember the name of when you hear Mattsun walk in. He's shirtless and you assume he just took a shower because he has a towel resting around his neck.

"Did Makki just leave?" he asks you, standing behind the couch, and you nod.

"Yeah, had to do something for a friend. Probably won't be back for a few hours." You put one arm behind your head, the other resting on your stomach as you shift a little, making yourself a little bit more comfortable.

Mattsun's eyes drag down your body, and you feel your body ignite under his gaze. You watch as he walks around the couch, standing where he's looming over you. "Need something?" you ask, and there's a different look in his eyes.

"Stand up." His voice is deeper, darker than it usually is, but you don't move. "I won't tell you again." You don't admit that this new sounding voice makes your core beat in excitement, but you stand anyway, standing right in front of him.

He gives you a smirk that nearly makes your knees go weak, and he steps beside you, taking the towel from around his neck and spreading it out over the couch. You raise an eyebrow, and when he turns around, you go to speak, but he wraps his hand around the back of your neck, crashing his lips onto yours.

You squeak in surprise, but it's easily swallowed as Mattsun kisses your mouth hungrily. His other hand palms your ass, gripping it tightly as he pulls you flush against him. When you gasp, he shoves his tongue in your mouth as your hands find their way onto his broad shoulders.

He breaks the kiss, and it takes you a while to come back to your senses, your head dizzy with lust as you catch your breath. "I don't think you can take it," he says into your neck as he starts planting hot, open mouth kisses, stopping at the bottom of your neck, grabbing the skin there with his teeth, making you hiss.

"T-Take, what?" Your brain is barely keeping up with his words, only focused on what his mouth is doing. You hear him chuckle against your skin as he moves to the other side of your neck, both of his hands now on your ass, and he presses you against him even more, and you can feel his erection digging into your thigh as you let out a quiet moan.

"This dick," he tells you bluntly, and he lifts his head up. Now that he's not on your neck, your head is a little clearer, and you chuckle softly as you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Oh? Confident in your skills I see." You start to drag a hand down his ridiculously toned torso as you start talking. "I've never been one to back down from a challenge." You feel your mouth drop open when you feel how big it is, and Mattsun huffs at you.

"You sure? You don't sound very convincing." You erase the initial look of surprise on your face, replacing it with a confident smirk, making him raise his eyebrows at you. Before you can say anything else, he's spinning the both of you around, pushing you so you're sitting on the couch, the obvious tent in his shorts in your eye line.

You rake your eyes done his naked upper half, eyes zeroing in on the happy trail that disappears into his shorts. He shoves his shorts down his legs, his cock flinging up, hitting his stomach, and your eyes widen when you see his size. He's huge. He's bigger than anyone you've taken, and at your reaction, he smiles. "I thought you don't back down from a challenge?" he picks at you, and lick your bottom lip as you smirk.

You lean forward, taking him in your hand, and you can feel how heavy he is as you guide him towards your mouth, tracing a thick vein with your tongue up the side of his length. You hear let out a deep sigh before you take him into your mouth, and you don't even have him halfway in when you feel your gag reflex surfacing. You try to use your hand on the rest of him that's not in your mouth, but he pushes your hand away.

"Nuh-uh. You can be a big girl and use your mouth," he tells you, and you start to sink further down. "Fuck," he whispers harshly, and his hand finds its way to your hair, and you close your eyes as his grip tightens. He starts to push your head further down his length until your nose is brushing those soft curls. "Shit, your mouth is good for something other than being a tease, who knew?"

He starts thrusting into your mouth, and you relax your jaw as you breathe through your nose, your hands digging into the thick flesh of his thighs, and he hisses at the feeling. The noises he's making are making you even more aroused, and one of your hands leaves his thigh to try to give you some release, but he stops you once again. "Don't you fucking touch yourself. Do it, and you won't, fuck, won't get to cum at all. Shit." You attempt to whimper around his length, the vibration sending a chill down his spine as he feels himself getting closer.

The rhythm of his thrusts starts to become sloppy, and you bring a hand up to tug at his balls, and that sends him over the edge. He cums with a loud groan of your name, you swallowing every last drop before he lets go of your hair, and you fall back against the couch as you catch your breath. He wobbles a little bit as he takes in your disheveled features, drool and tears running down your face, and he feels himself getting hard again.

He pulls you up from the couch, sitting in your spot before pulling you back down on his lap. Your shirt and sports bra are taken off quickly, and he attacks your chest making you cry out in pleasure as your hands grip his hair. His mouth is sucking and biting at one nipple while his hand is stimulating the other and then he alternates.

"Shit, Issei, fuck, please." Your words have no thoughts behind them, your brain no longer operating, and you push him away from you before you stand up, shedding your shorts and sitting back down on his lip, a breathy moan escaping your lips when you feel his dick brush your folds.

He watches your reaction when he lightly drags his fingers back and forth across your folds, and you whine as you grip at his shoulders. "Please don't tease, Issei, c'mon," you beg, and your eyes look at him when you hear him laugh.

"Oh, now you don't like teasing? Maybe I should just keep teasing you and not give you what you want," he proposes, and you shake your head as you rub against his fingers, trying to get some release. He looks down, seeing your folds shining with your juices, a huge strand falling onto his fingers and he holds back a moan. "You're soaked, Y/N, all this for me?" he questions, and you nod your head vigorously.

"Yes, Issei, it's all for you, just please touch me," you plead and he shoves two fingers inside your pussy, making you release a loud moan as you lean your head in the crook of his neck. You can hear the squelching sounds as he fingers you, and you dig your nails into his shoulders as you feel him stretch you out on his thick fingers. "Issei," you start, but a loud smack echoes through the room, and you let out a whine as you feel your ass cheek sting.

"That's not my name, sweet girl. I think I've let you get away with it for long enough, don't you think?" he whispers in your ear and his voice sends a tingle right down to your core, making you clench around him. "Come on, baby, you know what it is." He stops moving his fingers, and you whimper against his neck, trying to move, but his grip on your hip keeps you still. "Say it, pretty girl."

"Daddy, please, don't stop," you sigh out, and you can feel him smile in satisfaction as he continues his fast pace, and you cry into his neck at the sudden movement. "Please, oh, please."

"It's okay, tell Daddy what you want," he coos, and he pushes onto your clit with his thumb, and you arch into him, his fingers a stark contrast to his other hand that's rubbing soothing circles on your hip.

"I need--" You cut yourself off with a scream when he pushes against that spongy spot inside of you.

"Tell Daddy what you need, baby."

"I need you inside me, please." He adds another finger, and you grip his wrist as he curls his fingers inside of you, nailing your g-spot with ease.

"I don't know if you deserve all of that," he responds, and you whimper as you lift your head to look at him. "If I recall, you've been nothing but a tease, no?" You shake your head immediately as you try to move your hips again but failing, his grip still strong on your hip.

"Please, Daddy, I'll be a good girl, just please, I need you so bad." You're so desperate, and that gives Mattsun a thrill; seeing someone who usually knows just what to say to him, reduced to nothing but a begging mess on top of him.

"Well, since you're begging so nicely," he approves, removing his fingers, and you lift your hips up eagerly as you look down, seeing that he's fully hard again, the tip leaking precum. He guides his shaft into you, and you let your head fall back as you feel him stretching you open the best way possible. He groans as he feels your walls tightening around him, and you look down to see that he's still not all the way in, your legs starting to burn from the position you're in.

"Come on, baby, just a little bit more for me. Can you do that for Daddy?" he purrs, soothingly caressing your thighs, and you rest your head against his as you watch the last of him disappear inside of you. "Holy shit, you feel so good. Goddamn, baby," he sighs out, letting you adjust. "I'm gonna move, okay?"

You nod quickly, and you brace yourself as you feel him lift you up before slamming you back down, making you cry out, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside of you. He kisses you roughly, swallowing all of the noises you make as he continues to ram himself inside of you. You pull away as you feel the knot in your stomach starting to tighten.

"I'm close, ah, please don't stop," you cry out, and you feel his fingers digging into your hips, you're sure that there's going to be bruising. "Right there, please, Daddy, right there."

"I got you, baby girl, I got you." His finger finds its way to your clit, rubbing harsh, fast circles, and your orgasm snaps, making your arch your back and scream his name. The sight of your coming undone in front of him and the way your clenching around him, makes his orgasm crash into him right after you. "Fuck!" He fucks you through both of your highs, stopping when you whine at the sensitivity.

You lean forward, body going limp as you catch your breath, both of your bodies covered in a layer of sweat. "You know I'm not done with you yet," he tells you, and you don't get a moment to respond before he's lifting you off of him, and you land on your stomach with a soft thud. He brings your hips up, your back arching instinctively, and he groans at the sight of you.

He prods a finger at your hole, and you whine, trying to move away from his touch, but his grip on you makes it useless. He runs his hands over your ass, squeezing the globes in each hand. "This ass has been teasing me ever since you got here." He spreads your cheeks, getting a good look at your puffy, swollen hole.

"I know it has, it was fun to see you flustered," you respond, your words muffled by the couch, but still clear to Mattsun, and he smiles mischievously as he lifts a hand up, smacking your ass, and he watches it jiggle, the sight mesmerizing as you mewl at the sudden pain.

"That's for bending over in front of me." He smacks the other cheek. "That's for grinding on me." Another smack. "That's for the ice cream." You can feel the heat coming off your ass when he smacks it for a fourth time. "That's for the syrup." You can tell that he's loving this, but you can't say that you aren't, you just hope he doesn't see that. He does it again, and you hiss at the pain, but the pleasure wins out. "That's for walking around here practically naked."

He massages the heated mounds of flesh, and you know he's found you out when you feel him spread them followed by a cocky laugh. "You liked that a lot, huh?" He toys at your hole again, watching your juices gush out, and you wiggle your hips a little. He sticks his fingers in, pulling it out with his fingers covered in your slick, and he groans when he puts them in his mouth. "Fuck, you taste good."

"Are you gonna fuck me or what?" you snap, and you hear him chuckle as he runs his the head of his length across your folds to your hole.

"Now, is that any way to talk to your Daddy? I thought you were gonna be a good girl?" he taunts as he teases your hole, and you exhale forcefully as you give in.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. Please fuck me," you say, and he smiles as you feel him start to push into your hole.

"You're gonna be a good girl? No more being a brat?" he asks, and if you could, you would stomp your foot because he's dragging this out.

"I promise, Daddy. I'll be good." Liking the sound of your answer, he lines himself up, hands resting on your hips, and you scream when he rams into you, your body still sensitive from the first earth-shattering orgasm you had. He doesn't give you time to recuperate as he rears back, slamming into you again, keeping a relentless pace that hits your spot with accuracy.

Mattsun watches your ass shake with the impact, and you both can hear his balls slapping against you as you feel your orgasm approaching quickly. He pulls you up by your hair, pulling your back flush against his, keeping his persistent pace. You share a sloppy kiss as his hands come up to play with your nipples, and you whimper into his mouth, and he groans when you clench around him.

"You gonna cum? Huh?" he sucks on your tongue as he brings a hand down to your stomach, and he brings your hand up to your stomach, and you can feel the bulge which makes you release a broken moan. "Who's making you feel this good?"

"Y-You are, Daddy," you barely manage to answer, and he slides his hand down until he's pressing onto your clit, making the knot in your stomach come closer to snapping.

"You wanna come on Daddy's cock? Huh?" he asks, and you nod easily, your hands finding their way into his hair. "Then do it," he spits. "Cum on Daddy's cock like the filthy slut you are." He gives a firm push on your clit, and that coil snaps hard, your eyes screwing as you scream out his name, your back arching as your hands clamp down on his hair.

He keeps bucking into you, your pussy almost stopping him from moving from how hard you're clamping down on him. "Shit, fuck," he swears, his thrusts losing rhythm and getting sloppy. The last time you clamp down on him, makes him see stars as he cums hard, painting your walls white before you both collapse on the couch, heaving breaths coming from the both of you.

He wraps his arms around you as he turns you both over, keeping himself still sheathed inside of you. "Holy shit. That was, oh, my God," Mattsun comments, and you laugh tiredly as you smile, your eyes starting to close.

You're about to drift off when you hear the door slam. "What the fuck?!" You and Mattsun both freeze, your gaze slowly drifting to the door to see a very confused and pissed Makki standing at the door. Mattsun quickly grabs the blanket draped over the back of the couch, putting it over the two of you.

"It's, uh, it's not what it looks like," you try, and Makki just blinks at you.

"Man, I wish I could say I'm sorry, but I'm really, really not," Mattsun speaks up, and you cover your smile with your hand as you hold back your laugh.

"Love you, too--" Your words are cut off by Makki leaving and slamming the door behind him. You and Mattsun both laugh for a bit before you finally quiet down. "He's so going to kick me out," you say, and you hear Mattsun chuckle against your neck.

"Well, if he does, there's always my place."

BONUS:

Mattsun rubs your shoulders as you lean back against him, the warm water soothing the ache in your muscles, mostly your legs and backside. He had brought you water and a tray of fruit before getting in the tub behind you, fatigue catching up to you as you relax against him. "I was serious about the chance of Hiro kicking me out," you joke quietly as you cuddle further into his wide frame.

He laughs softly as he runs a finger up and down your arm. "And I was serious about you staying at my place. You're not getting away that easily." He looks down at you, and you smile widely as you lean up to kiss him, him meeting you halfway. "Makki might not talk to me for a while though," he speaks up after he separates his lips from you, and you snort as you snuggle back into his chest.

"Ah, he'll be fine."

A/N: Bro the whole numbers thing was so hard for me to come up with lmao, but I think y’all can see how much I love this man, and how much I want him TO ROCK MY SHIT, but that’ll never happen sadly, but like I feel like he would be the best at aftercare in my opinion

[triplexdoublex]

Alpha Omega

Pairings: Colson x Reader

Warnings/Tags: alcohol, drunk, attempted rape (colson saves you before ANYTHING happens), potentially triggering dialogue about it the next morning, strangers to friends to lovers, smut, squirting ��

A/N: Inspired by a weird dream I had and a real tweet I read, the person Jake in the fic was actually Jake Paul in my dream (ew). If you think the beginning backstory may trigger you and just want to read their friendship turn to lovers/smut, then scroll to the 2ND time skip marked with stars (***)

College mid-terms were finally over, which meant the same thing every year: the Alpha Omega annual fraternity party! It was the biggest party on campus every year, and even though it’s not really your scene, you decided to attend this year. Maybe it was the stress of mid-terms weighing extra heavy on your mind, but you needed an escape. But now, five full drinks and some shots later, you find yourself stumbling around the drink and keg area in the kitchen with a half-empty red solo cup, wondering how the hell you're supposed to find your way back to your dorm to sleep off what was obviously a very poor decision.

“Hey pretty thing,” you hear, suddenly feeling an arm slink around your waist.

“Do I know you?” you ask, disoriented and confused as your eyes try to focus on the face of the person touching you.

“The name’s Jake,” he shouts over the music, guiding you out of the kitchen and into the main party room. “You should come back to my room, you look like you need to lay down,” he says with ill-intent, but you’re too intoxicated to argue, letting him lead you up the stairs.

Even though most of your senses are impaired right now, you can’t mistake the distinct, pungent smell of weed wafting towards you as Jake escorts you down the hall once the two of you reach the top of the stairs.

“Yo, Jake!” a voice shouts from an open door, smoke billowing out as you pass.

“Hey Cols, what’s up?”

“Nothing much, man,” he says, blowing a smoke ring as he passes the blunt to his roommate Pete. “Wanna hit?”

“Maybe later, gotta get this pretty little thing back to room,” Jake answers.

“Aye, she alright? Colson questions, quickly rising to his feet.

“Yeah, pal she don’t look too good,” Pete coughs.

“Nah, man, that’s fucked up. She’s gooone!” Colson says getting a closer look at you. ‘You can’t talk her back to your room like this. That’s just wrong.”

“The fuck I can!” Jake retorts. “Look,” he says turning to you and lifting your slumped head. “You wanna go to my room with me don’t you, sexy?”

“N-nno” You slur, drunkenly shaking your head ‘Yes’

“See, she shook her ‘yes’,” Jake argues.

“Yeah, and her mouth said fuckin’ NO, Dawg!” Colson snaps back.

“Listen, I’m taking her to my room and there ain’t shit you can do about it!”

“The fuck there is!” Colson swings, his closed fist making contact with the side of Jake’s face, knocking him out cold.

***************************

The next thing you know you’re opening your eyes; an unfamiliar room and bed coming into view. You slowly sit up holding your throbbing head

“Hey, you’re awake,” says a soft voice to your right. Quickly, you turn your head in a panic to see a tall blonde sitting on the edge of the bed.

“W-who are you? Where.. Where am I?” you ask on the verge of tears.

“My name's Colson,” he reaches out for your hand. “I —”

“Don’t touch me!” You yell, scooting backwards pulling  the covers up over you when you realize all you’re wearing is a thin, white, mens t-shirt. “Where are my clothes?”

“Aye, yo, it’s not like that. Relax, listen,” he stands with his hands up backing away from you. “I slept on the couch, I just wanted —”

“Where are my clothes!?” you demand.

“You threw up on them,” he answers.

“So lemme get this right … I threw up and you took off my clo —”

“NO! No! God no!” he says waving his arms. “My roommate Pete —”

“So your roommate Pete took off my clothes…?”

“NOOO! Please, just listen. I swear I was just trying to help you and keep you safe.” The desperation in his voice causes you to let down your guard a little. “I was saying, my roommate Pete. His girl. She stayed over last night and I asked her to help get you cleaned up and changed. I saw nothing I swear,” he puts his hands up again.

You sit there in silence, confused, trying to process everything he just said.

“You really don’t remember anything from last night? Do you?” He asks, stepping slowly back towards the bed.”

“No,” you shake your head, disappointed in yourself.

He cautiously begins to sit back down on the edge of the bed then pauses “Can I?” 

You nod ‘yes’ and he takes a seat.

“Yo, you were in really rough shape last night. I’m assuming you had too much to drink?”

“Yeah,” you admit looking ashamed.

“Aye, we’ve all been there. I’m just glad you’re ok,” he smiles. “Me and my homie Pete were just up here smoking when we seen some dude we know trying to take you back to his room. I could tell you were wrecked. Fuck, you where barely conscious. I tried to tell him how wrong that was but he wouldn’t listen so I knocked him the fuck out. I didn’t know where your dorm was or if you came to the party with anyone and I wanted to make sure you had a safe place to sleep it off.”

“ Thank you. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” you apologize.

“Nah I completely understand,” he accepts your apology. ‘That’s why I wanted to be here when you woke up, I figured you might be a little confused.”

“More than a little,” you let out a small laugh.

Colson cracks a smile, then heads to his dresser, pulling out a pair of his athletic shorts. “Here, tell you what,” he says, tossing the shorts on the bed. “ Imma head out there —” he points to the door. Let you get dressed and I’ll drive you back to your dorm. Cool?”

“Cool,” you answer with a thumbs up and a smile as he steps out the room, closing the door behind him.

*******************

“Seriously, thank you so much,” you say when he pulls up to your dorm.”What can I do for you? I feel like I can’t thank you enough.”

“Nothing. Any respectable man would have done the same thing,” he says.”I can only hope that one day if god forbid my daughter even finds herself in that position that someone would do the same for her.”

“Awww, you have a daughter?”

“Yeah,” he smiles like a proud father, lifting his backside from the drivers seat to pull out his wallet. “Her name’s Casie,” he says opening to her picture.  

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he says, then tucking his wallet back into his pocket. “She lives with her mom but I still see her all the time.”

“I’m glad. You seem like you’d be a great father.” you smile. “Thanks again,” you add, stepping out of the car.

“Hey, ummm, wait,” he calls out the car window as you walk towards your dorm.

“Yeah?” you turn back to face him.

“Ain’t you in that bitch Mrs. Pearson’s creative writing class with me?”

“Oh yeah,” you thought he looked familiar. “You usually sit up in the back row right?”

“If you mean ‘take a nap in the back row’, then yeah that’s me”, he laughs.

“Well see you bright and early tomorrow then I guess,” you smile.

“Yeah, see ya,” he smiles back before driving off.

**************************************

The two of you became quite close after that. Gradually moving your seats closer and closer to be near each other in class and pairing up for projects together. You even got to meet his daughter Casie briefly once before her mom picked her up from their weekend visit. You spent a lot of your free time together.It was amazing how you could do absolutely nothing when you were together yet there was no awkward silence or moments: much like right now where you're both hanging out in your dorm just laying on your bed scrolling aimlessly through your phones.

“Oh my god why are men so stupid?” You blurt out in laughter, showing him a tweet on your phone. “This dude really had the audacity to make a whole ass thread about how to eat pussy but he obviously has no clue what he’s talking about; girls don’t squirt out of their clits!’ No wonder girls never cum and have to fake it. Ya’ll mother fuckers don’t even know where the clit IS, and I’m pretty sure squirting is just something made up by the porn industry cuz that shit never happens in real life.”

“Aye, nah I hope you aint including me in that, cuz lemme tell you, ya boy knows where the clit is!  My girls always cum,” he smirks. 

“Yeah, okay,” you roll your eyes. “How do you know they’re not faking?”

“Cuz squirting ain’t made up, that shits VERY real! Maybe not every time but it has happened so I know they weren’t faking,” he smiles. “You mean to tell me a guy has never made you cum?

“Uhn uh” you shake your head no.

“And you’ve never squirt... even ..uhh..by yourself...or with whatever toys you chicks use?”

“I mean I’ve cum alone, but never squirt. No,” you admit blushing. You and Colson have never discussed anything sexual with each other before.

“That’s bananas, dawg!” he exclaims, slapping the bed.

The room grows quiet, the silence feeling awkward for the first time in your whole friendship.

“Aye, uh you trust me right?” Colson breaks the silence

“Yeah, of course, with my life!” you exclaim.”Why?”

“Trust me enough to uhmm...show you what I can do?”

“Are--are you saying you wanna — “

“I wanna make you cum,” he blurts out, cutting you off. “If- if you’ll let me that is.”

“I...Uhmm..I..”, you stumble while thinking it over.

“Sorry… uhhh let’s just forget this whole conversation, okay?” he says ashamed, thinking he made you uncomfortable.

“Why not,” you blurt out nonchalantly.

“Wait!, why not, like… like you … you wanna —”

You silently shake your head yes biting your lip.

“Oh shit! For real?” He says in surprise, getting up off the bed. “Uhh, c’mere,” he calls you over to the edge of the bed.

You do as you're told crawling over to the edge, sitting with your legs dangling off the bed. “You know, you don’t gotta go easy with me,” you smirk waiting for him to make his next move.

“Good, I wasn’t planning on it,” he says, immediately flipping you over and yanking your panties off from under your dress.

“Ugh you boys are all the same,” you groan looking back at him assuming he’s just gonna start fucking you from behind. “Haven’t any of you even heard of foreplay?”

“Don’t tell me no one’s ever eaten your pussy from the back before?” he questions, kneeling down behind you. 

With both hands he grabs your ass making it jiggle for him before delving his tongue between your folds, his tongue exploring every crevice. You gasp at the sensation and feel his muffled laugh buzz against your core, intensifying your pleasure. Gripping your ass tighter, he alternates between plunging a firm, pointed tongue in and out of your wet slit and assaulting your clit with a series of rapid fire kitten licks. Your legs weaken with each lash of his tongue, your body slowly collapsing against the bed.

“Keep that ass up, girl,” he pauses briefly to say. You try with all your might but it’s no use; Colson has reduced your legs to a pile of jello. Roughly he tosses you onto your back, spreads your thighs open and gets back to work. Keeping his tongue focused on your clit, he slides two fingers deep inside of you, his lengthy digits perfectly pressing against your G spot. “I can feel this pussy tightening around my fingers, I know you're close, right?” He pauses to ask cockily.

All you can manage is to nod, ‘yes’, your bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth as you look down locking eyes with colson; the fiery passion in them is a stark contrast to their ice blue hue.

Colson quickens the pace of his fingers, the sloshing of your wetness audible as he brings you closer to the edge. Then resting his free hand on your mound he gently pulls back the hood of your clit with his thumb exposing the most sensitive part sending your body into convulsions when he rapidly flicks his tongue against it.

“Colson, FUCK!!! ” you scream out in pleasure as the most intense orgasm of your life rips through you. “Oh my god... oh my god,” you chant in pleasure and shock as you realize you’re actually squirting. Colson doesn’t miss a beat continuing to work you through your high, relishing in the mess you're making all over his face and fingers. When you finally stop twitching he removes his fingers and sits up with a smug look. He pulls off his shirt, wipes his glistening face with it, then tosses it on the floor and hurriedly starts undoing his belt.

“You didn’t think I was just gonna stop at one, did you?” He says cockily pulling himself from his boxers. “Awhh, fuck yeah, sooo wet and tight,” he groans as he pushes in, then bringing his hand between your two bodies, and begins to rub your clit as he thrusts.

“Mhmmmhhmm,” you moan, the bundle of nerves still sensitive from your prior orgasm.

“Told ya I could make you feel good,” he teases, his breath ghosting over that one reactive spot on your neck just behind your ear, causing you to let out a little squeak. “You like that?” He laughs, nipping at the same spot while his hips roll in like the tide, crashing repeatedly against the shore of your pelvis. He nips and kisses along your jawline making his way to your mouth, harshly tugging your bottom lip with a groan. Your tongue reaches out, searching for him as he pulls back.

“Fucking tease,” you whimper.

“That desperate to taste yourself on me?” He chaffs.

To be honest you’re desperate for everything he’s giving you right now; you’re body has never felt such pleasure. So when he offers his mouth back to you, you happily welcome the tart taste of yourself still present on his ravenous tongue. Your mouths move in a hungry rhythm, following suit with your hips. Your breaths and moans echo each others, increasing in speed and volume as climax nears. He can tell you’re so so close and he knows just how to get you there. He  grabs your legs pulling you flush against him and throws your legs over his shoulder, keeping your thighs pinned to his chest with both arms as continues to pound you.

“Mhmmm… Yeah, Yeah, Fuck me! Fuck me!”  you whine needily clawing at the sheets as you enjoy his cock from a whole new angle, slamming into your g-spot at the perfect tempo. It’s just a few more thrusts until he has you completely undone, cumming for the second time today.

“Jesus Christ, Colson” you moan breathily as you ride it out.

‘Ughggg,” he grunts loudly, quickly pulling  out, your legs falling to hips as he finishes on your stomach. 

“Can’t believe you were out here talkin’ ‘bout men don’t know where the clit is and no man ever made you cum,” he says mockingly after he catches his breath. “Nah, girl, you just been fucking with some losers. Gotta get you a real man like me.” 

“Well looks like I got myself one now,” you smirk. “ because we will definitely be doing that again!”

“Awhhh shiiiit,” he says loudly, his hand covering his smile. “ Got you addicted to this dick already, huh?” He teases.

“Shut up,Colson-,” you laugh, chucking a pillow at him “- and go get me something to clean off my stomach.”

[an1xcy]

Got Nobody Cuz’ I’m Braindead

alksjdjkasdkasd please dude i spedran this Title - Pork Soda by Glass Animals @jackstanifold this is for you <3 /p

TW: Nailbiting, Mentions of blood/little bit of bleeding, KarlNapIty

It was all different. Everything had changed. They’d promised to stay together, they promised they would! Karl had believed them, he’d believed them and waited for years upon years for everything to go back to normal. It never did. Now Dream was in prison, George was never around, Quackity was always ‘busy,’ and Sapnap- god- Sapnap. Karl watched Sapnap as his fiance cooked dinner, humming a tune that should’ve been cheerful but it sounded sad, defeated, broken. Karl exhaled quietly, he felt like a ghost, a pale figure that nobody noticed or saw. He was a watcher, an observer, spectating time with a gentle curiosity but he’d be lying if he said he enjoyed it. Sometimes he didn’t feel real. Sometimes he’d spend so long watching in silence that he couldn’t remember the words that used to oh-so-easily grace his lips. That’s how he felt now. In the timeline that was supposed to be his, where his lovers were finally with him. They hadn’t died. They weren’t supposed to, at least not yet. Karl hadn’t seen this coming, he hadn’t expected to feel this way. Usually he took things with a calm demeanor, almost disinterested. Except this time it hurt. He didn’t know what he’d cherished, what he’d held onto, would fall apart in his hands. Now it was just him, collapsed on the dining room floor, he hadn’t registered falling. His nervous system didn’t even register the pain. He’d snatched off his patchwork hoodie at some point. In the dimly lit dining room, he rummaged in his pockets for the needle and thread he kept on himself. Blinded by a sudden rage he located every single patch he’d sewn in for Dream or that Dream had sewn in herself. That smiley bastard. This was his fault. She’d torn them apart, she’d made George leave, they’d beaten down Sapnap, he’d changed Quackity, he’d shattered Karl. After each patch was torn out, Karl stared at the worn edges of the green fabric, sorrow swiftly drowned out the rage leaving his eyes watery and burning. Karl didn’t bother wiping his eyes as tears streamed down his cheeks and onto the squares of plain gray fabric he was sewing in. Karl was careless with the needle, it felt clumsy and unnatural in his grip, pricking his fingers every few loops. Beads of blood welled at his fingertips, leaving small circular stains on the carefully cultivated hoodie. If Karl had heard a creak behind him in the doorway, he paid it no mind. ... Karl was fading. At least that’s what it felt like. Sitting on the couch in the living room, so light the cushions barely shifted, he couldn’t help but wonder, was he real? His life could’ve all been an intricate fantasy that he’d invented to keep himself sane. He lifted his fingers to his lips, teeth reaching for a nail that it never found. He glanced down at his fingers, the nails chewed down to the point where the beds of his nails were on display. He let out a humorless chuckle, biting down anyway, just to feel something, to make sure he was still there. There was a metallic taste in his mouth, he recognized it instantly having seen and tasted it one to many times, blood. Karl sighed, pulling his fingers away from his mouth in favor is setting them in his lap. He moved his gaze to the wall in front of him, staring blankly as his fingertips slowly welled blood. The door opened behind him, but again, it's not like anyone could see him. He might as well sit and rot. … Karl stumbled towards the door of their small mushroom home. He meant Quackity and Sapnap’s home. It was hardly his. He was sure that he was invisible, another spectator to a play that he had to role in. God if he didn’t want to have a part though. He swung open the door, his body flinching at the slam but his mind barely registering it. That’s when he heard it. “Babe?” Sapnap called distantly from the kitchen. Karl slunk into the kitchen, standing behind Sapnap for a moment before carefully wrapping his arms around the taller’s middle. He was almost surprised his arms didn’t go through, but his mind was more preoccupied with Sapnap’s reaction. Sapnap’s reaction? “Karl?” Sapnap carefully set his spoon down. “Hey, are you alright?” Karl didn’t believe it, he couldn’t, he wasn’t real. He was sure of it. Sapnap didn’t know he was here. “Love,” Sapnap turned, carefully running his hands through Karl’s wavy hair, “can you talk to me?” Karl couldn’t breathe, he buried his face into Sapnap’s chest. The moment he opened his mouth, a sob escaped him, the force wracking his already shaking body. Sapnap was silent for a few moments before he gently kissed Karl’s forehead. “It’s okay, I understand. I see you.” That’s what got Karl, what broke the dam, he crumpled, he wanted to scream. Sapnap caught him, supporting his weight with ease. Karl looked up at Sapnap, opening his mouth to speak, to say something, anything. But he couldn’t, his throat closed and his tongue was limp in his mouth. It was familiar and unfamiliar all at once, he still panicked, bringing one hand to his throat and trying again. Sapnap’s eyes widened for a split second, but it was gone as fast as it came. He carefully sunk them down to the floor, removing Karl’s hand from his throat. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I understand.” He hushed, idly massaging Karl’s tensed shoulders. Karl whimpered, reluctantly relaxing against Sapnap. Maybe he could rest here, for just a moment. … Karl heard him before he saw him. Quackity had always been loud, it was just in his nature. Even when he was trying so desperately to be quiet. Karl cracked his eyes open, catching his fiance’s figure slowly picking his way away. Karl shot up, grabbing Quackity’s hand in a shaky grip. “Karl?” Quackity whispered, turning to face the brunette. “What’s up?” Karl tried to convey what he could with his eyes, and for good measure, scooted over on the bed. “You want me to stay?” Quackity questioned, like it wasn’t obvious. Karl nodded, tugging Quackity over with as much force as he could in his state. Quackity carefully settled on the bed, scooting closer and wrapping one arm around Karl, the other reaching for Sapnap, who intertwined their fingers happily. Maybe they’d be okay.

[luvknow]

priceless | bang chan [1/2]

genre: rich kid!chan x fem!reader feat. rich kid!felix & rick kid!woojin ; friends-to-lovers ; fluff ; angst ; alcohol consumption ; crazy rich asians inspired summary: lucky you, you fall for the rich and powerful bang chan that every woman has their eyes on and he likes you back! but you get a taste of the luxurious life they all live in and you realize that someone like you isn’t meant to be with someone like him. wc: 12.9k a/n: two parts cuz this woulda been like 20k and i’m tired lol enjoy!

PART 2/2

Love at first sight was a horrendous idea. The thought of falling for someone the second your eyes met was absolutely terrifying. Of course this wasn’t exactly how it worked, but it sounded like sorcery, didn’t it? At least to Chan it did. He asked his father one time what it meant to feel so enamored by someone simply from the first encounter and he replied with,

“That’s just Hollywood mumbo-jumbo! Love takes time and it will come naturally, not right at the start. Love is patient. Just look at me - I’m patient with your mother all the time!”

So instead of expecting a spark with every person he met, Chan didn’t bother and let his feelings develop naturally. With every girlfriend he’s ever had, he let his heart take the lead and his mind, body, and soul followed shortly after.

Then he met you. Everything he knew about falling love went out the window. With you, love was not patient, nor was it kind, nor was it anything close to how it should ‘develop naturally’. It was a bullet train that hit Chan without remorse, crumbling every word and memory about what he thought love was supposed to be. It was unforgiving, with you two spending your entire college careers together as he watched you smile whenever you got your food, witnessed the stars in your eyes on your weekend nights together, and took note of the way your brows furrowed cutely when you were focused. The worst was when he had to sit there and listen about the guy you went on a date with or took back to your place. Love was truly unfair, and yes, he wasn’t so innocent on his side either, but how else was he supposed to distract himself from you? Surely partly-meaningless but healthy relationships with other women was much healthier than drowning in alcohol or whatever his inheritance-mooching friends did these days, wasn’t it?

Koi no yokan. It meant something along the lines of the type of feeling when you meet someone and you know that one day, you’ll fall in love with them. It might not be today, it might not be tomorrow, but it was inevitable. Chan hoped that was the kind of feeling you had when you met him. He hoped - he even prayed! - that the day you two met, you looked at him and thought, ‘he’s the type of man I could see myself falling for endlessly one day. Absolutely, positively ardently.’

Even when everyone around him and his ancestors above knew that you two couldn’t possibly be together, he’d find a way. Bang Chan always found a way.

After one thousand four hundred sixty days, multiple meaningless flings, and a couple of diplomas later, Chan continued to wait for that day to come.

four years ago:

You met Chan through your classmate-turned-friend Felix. It all started with some stupid class that was some elective you didn’t care about with a Professor who still believed in assigning partners for projects because college students weren’t capable of doing work on their own. Lo and behold, you were paired up with Felix, who wore an impossible amount of hyped-up designer brands, some of which you haven’t even heard of before. Of course you thought you were stuck with some rich, snobby, stuck-up inheritance-hogging brat who only went to college and majored in business so he could upstage all the other rich kids in his Daddy’s social circle, making him look like he was better than the rest of them for earning his inheritance. Surprisingly, that wasn’t all true. He was definitely trying to be The Top Heir, but he wasn’t a total dick. He was actually pretty nice for someone with a zillion dollars. That was the start of a beautiful and dynamic friendship.

“I can’t believe that’s what you really thought of me!” Felix gasped, clutching his heart at your insult. You tried to shush him from the nosy customers in the coffee shop, but he didn’t care. “You can’t judge a book by its cover, _____.”

“How can I not when you’ve rubbed your worth in my face since day one?” You took his Gucci x SUPREME collab black wallet with the signature GG logo and a Kingsnake painted on it that held four of his very heavy credit cards and shoved it in his face like he did with you and his entire existence.

“Yo, chill! The friction isn’t good for the credit cards!”

“I’m sure you have your emergency billion dollars stashed up in your penthouse suite just in case.”

“Yeah, but I hate carrying cash, so stop it,” he whined, snatching his wallet back. His phone vibrated on the table. “Oh, he’s almost here.”

“Who?”

“One of my friends. He asked to borrow the Versace belt you love so much.”

“You have two dozen Versace belts,” you scoffed. “Which one?”

“The one with the Barocco print.”

“English, Felix, English.”

“The floral one.”

“Oh my God, he wants to borrow that six-hundred dollar color-clashing mess!? Shouldn’t you people with money have some sort of fashion sense?”

“You are so mean. Stereotyping ‘my people’ is not cool, _____. Not cool! And my fashion sense is A-1!” he scolded, poking you harshly with his embossed fountain pen. “Can you at least try to be nice to him when he comes? You’re always so distant when you meet my friends.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Remember when you met Changbin?”

“Changbin told me he wanted to fly me to Paris to wine and dine me and rent a room in the Palace of Versailles like a Diamond-Grade prostitute, of course I try to stay far away from him!”

“But isn’t that the nicest thing a guy has ever told you? Isn’t it tempting to want to say yes? If I were you, I would’ve taken the offer.”

“Not surprised.”

It was then an impossibly handsome guy walked through the door. That had to be him because all of Felix’s friends were hot, but it was hard to tell. He wasn’t wearing anything ostentatious that screamed he was born into money (unlike your buddy Felix) nor did he wear anything that even resembled expensive brands. He wore all black, and though some items were stamped SUPREME, you couldn’t tell or at least recognize any other brands he wore. His fluffy, curly hair, cut jawline, kind eyes, and a warm million-dollar smile let you know he wasn’t like Felix’s other friends at all.

“_____, this is Chan, a family friend of mine. Chan, this is _____, the sole reason I haven’t flunked school yet.”

Chan was raised to judge every person he met by their looks and what they wore - it was an old habit his parents and grandparents embroidered in his brain, like silver thread on fine silk, that he was trying to get rid of since he started college. You wore nothing that indicated you were either from old or new money, nothing that said anything about your family name or bloodline, and no jewelry that looked like you inherited your great-great grandmother’s jewels that were gifted to her by a Prince. You were ordinary - quite possibly one of the only ordinary people he’s met thus far at this school.

Yes, you were nothing special material-wise, but you were pain-painstakingly stunning. How was that possible? Maybe it was your cute nose, or your pink lips, or the adorable way your brow quirked that caught his attention. Your curious eyes met his wide ones, sending his heart up to his throat, stopping him from breathing. It took him a minute to realize you had your hand out, waiting for him to connect. Quickly and awkwardly, he took your hand in his and felt his heart drop back into his chest cavity. But now he was sweating.

The effect you had on him was dangerous.

“Nice to meet you,” you said politely for the sake of Felix’s plea. The boy only nodded silently, trying not to look too affected by your infectious, beautiful smile. Great, another weirdo, you thought. Why were all the rich kids in this school so fucking weird!? Maybe it was your fault for accepting a scholarship to one of the country’s most expensive schools.

“Here’s the belt you requested.” Felix pulled out the belt a unicorn vomited on and handed it to Chan, who had snapped out of his trance. Your disgusted look doesn’t go unnoticed by him and he’s afraid you’re judging his choice in accessories. He wondered what kind of style you liked if you didn’t like this belt because all the upperclassmen born into old money that had girls falling on their knees had this belt. He’d have to ask Felix some other time.

“Thanks, dude. Mom said if I didn’t have Versace to wear at the charity event this weekend that she’d write me out of her will.”

So dramatic, you thought. You didn’t want to listen to boys talk about what pieces of clothing they had that cost more than tuition, so you sat back down and went back to studying.

“You owe me. Don’t get any champagne stains on it. And I better not see any wrinkles or stretches in the leather.”

“Yes, Dad. I can’t believe you let me borrow this. What are you gonna wear then?”

“I don’t know, something vintage probably, but I’ll figure it out. Got a date?”

“That’s requirement number two in order to stay in Mom’s will. I’m bringing Sana. What about you?”

“I’d rather go stag than bring some clingy arm candy to a simple charity fashion show. Unless _____ wants to be my date ~?”

“I’d rather die than be your arm candy,” you snorted.

To your dismay, Felix ruffled your hair playfully. “She hates it when I talk about this stuff. Don’t tell anyone I’m not bringing a date or else I’ll get kicked out, they’ll figure it out once I get there.”

“Gotcha. I’ll see you then.” After their bro handshake, Chan mustered up the courage to say, “It was nice meeting you, _____.”

“Nice meeting you,” you said in a sickly-sweet tone.

He saw right through you - you didn’t like him. He’s not sure why, when you barely talked to him for those two minutes he was there. Was he being too weird when you shook hands? Maybe he was talking too much about the show, since Felix mentioned you hated those kinds of talks, but why? Surely, you had to be used to this kind of stuff, right? Really, it shouldn’t bother him so much to know you didn’t like him already, but that famous Bang Pride coursed through his veins because everyone loved Bang Chan! It didn’t help that even knowing he didn’t need your attention, he was still so intrigued by you. To have those feelings not be reciprocated for the first time, to have you not eyeing him like you wanted him so badly, to you being completely disinterested at the simple mention of a high-class charity event that everyone was attending… It was exciting.

He accepted the challenge. He was going to win you over, whether you liked it or not.

“So what’d you think about Chan? He’s not so bad, right?” Felix asked before snatching up the last madeleine.

“He’s a little weird.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why, though...”

“You mean he’s not a space case all the time?”

“Not at all. If anything, he’s the one with the most confidence and focus out of our group of friends. Usually, people become a space case because of HIS presence, never the other way around. Did you cast a spell on him, or something?”

“I must have if I got one of your cocky millionaire friends to fall silent. I can feel the power in my veins.”

“Hey man, you better not flaunt that big ass head of yours. If word gets out that Chan was like that around a lil ol’ ordinary Olivia like yourself, you could be in big trouble.”

“You never warned me like this when it was Changbin. What makes Chan different?”

“Chan’s wealth has a long history. Like, really long. Almost pre-1800s long. His great-great-great-grandmother was one of the most well-regarded doctors in the country in her time. She was very well-off with the money she made, lived happily on her own, did her duty as a citizen and helped heal the soldiers during some war, and captured the heart of one of the most honored war heroes. Chan’s fortune began with a doctor and a war hero who gave birth to some inventor guy who married a luxury hotel heiress, whose history of wealth even I can’t trace back, and gave birth to the hotel heir that expanded its locations to eighteen different countries who then married the founder of a children’s charity, much to everyone’s surprise, and they gave birth to Chan’s grandmother, the sole heiress to the number one luxury hotel chain in the world. His Mom, who is currently sits at the head of the charity organization, is next in line. Then Chan gets to lead the organization until he inherits the hotels.”

Your brain struggled to wrap around Chan’s pedigree. “So he’s rich just like the rest of you.”

“Yeah, but he’s filthy rich. He’s been the Asia'’s most eligible bachelor under twenty-five twice in a row. What I’m saying is Chan is probably the number one most sought after guy slash son-in-law right now, and if anyone knows he’s taken even the slightest interest in you, they’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you two don’t happen.”

Well, that was terrifying. “God, this sounds like Cinderella on steroids. You better make sure we don’t happen!”

“I refuse to mess with fate, so this is all on you, babe.”

The F in Felix stood for Fake Friend.

Chan couldn’t find anything about you.

Google told him nothing, your social media showed him zilch, hell even his family private investigator only got as far as your great-grandparents owned a restaurant together which your grandfather and then your father happily took over. Really, he should have known from the start when he saw your clothes and lack of jewels that you didn’t come from the same background as him or Felix. This only made you more interesting.

After his thorough research on your social media and accidentally hitting the ‘add friend’ button (to which he shut his laptop and refused to look at the app for at least twenty-four hours out of pure embarrassment), you added him back only a couple hours later and he couldn’t stop the goofy smile growing on his lips. He felt like a little kid with a crush on his classmate! Your pictures were very silly, but you were still so pretty, and your captions were goofy with a touch of your wit peaking through and God, Chan had never been so struck by someone before, let alone by someone whose family history didn’t have their own Wikipedia page.

He needed to get to know you - to pick your brain, figure out your taste, and see that smile again. He needed to.

Poor Felix had to deal with texts like this:

issa banger [11:03 am]: wyd

yung felix [11:05 am]: eating lunch, why?

issa banger [11:06 am]: is _____ with you?

yung felix [11:09 am]: ??????????? no, why??

issa banger [11:09 am]: Read at 11:09 am.

And this:

issa banger [9:23 pm]: is that _____ in your snapchat?

yung felix [9:26 pm]: yeah u creep, we’re studying.

issa banger [9:32 pm]: what a coincidence, me too! i’m coming over.

yung felix [9:55 pm]: oop, she just left.

issa banger [9:47 pm]: ………..…. well i’m already here, so open the door.

And most recently this:

issa banger [2:15 am]: she’z sooiioioo cute felix…………

yung felix [2:17 am]: oh my god can u shut the fuck up.

This was all within one week of meeting you! Felix had to end this. He had never seen such a sad, desperate, puppy-loving side of Chan before, it was disgusting! What happened to the ‘I-don’t-care-about-love-I’ll-just-fuck-around-for-now-because-I’ll-probably-be-arranged-to-be-married-and-have-a-mistress-on-the-side-before-I’m-thirty’ Chan he knew since they were in diapers!? And like, no offense to you, but Chan was like this because of you, of all people, who came from a working-class family. The Bangs were groomed to date and marry only the best, so you two would never work out for even a day if it even got that far. But whatever, if meeting you again was all it took for Chan to stop bothering him, then so be it. You might kill him later for setting this up, but he’ll take the fall - anything to get his filthy rich and lonely friend to stop breathing down his neck.

fungus [5:43 pm]: hey u at the coffee shop?

you [5:57 pm]: yeah why?

fungus [6:01 pm]: i told chan to drop off The Versace Barocco-Print Belt with u if that’s cool

you [6:02 pm]: uuuuuuuuuuuuugggggggggggghhhhhhhhhh fine

fungus [6:05 pm]: thanks bro.

fungus [6:06 pm]: play nice ~ he’s a cool guy.

On cue, the ever-so handsome, front cover of GQ magazine, most eligible bachelor under twenty-five who added you on social media at three in the morning last week walked through the door. Again, he didn’t wear anything that stood out or any brands you didn’t recognize, so he didn’t necessarily look like he had any type of money Felix had informed you the first time, but the way he walked made up for it. Back straight, broad shoulders that swayed, chest out and peaking through the white satin button-up that was buttoned too low, flexed jaw and pursed lips that said ‘move, bitch’, and his expensive dress shoes that clicked and echoed on the floor, drawing the attention of everyone in the cafe. He may not have dressed to stand out, but that didn’t matter because he drew everyone’s attention anyways.

He paid no mind to everyone else because all of his attention was on you. The second he laid eyes on you was when his annoyed expression melted into a mix of something sweet and thankful.

“_____,” he greeted simply in his honey voice. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Hi,” you said casually. “Likewise. Do you have the world’s ugliest belt with you?”

He chuckled lightheartedly, which sounded more like a cute giggle. “Is it really that ugly?”

“Too avant garde, if you ask me.”

Chan invited himself to a seat next to you. When you didn’t object or look noticeably disgusted by his presence, he took it as a sign that you welcomed his company. One foot through the door. “I’ll have you know it was a hit last weekend.”

“I’m sure anything you wear is a hit, even if it is something so atrocious.”

“It’s called couture.”

“I suppose my taste isn’t as high-class compared to your couture.”

“What is your taste?”

“I don’t think the lack of zeros in my bank account qualify me to answer this question.”

Another silky laugh escaped his curled lips. _____, stop looking there! “You don’t need to have a lot of money to know or have good taste.”

“There’s a whole world of clothing, food, and architecture that I didn’t know about before meeting Felix, so the expanse of my knowledge when it comes to a taste of anything isn’t as vast as those who do have a butt-load of money.”

“Even so, I happen to like your style.”

You did that cute little brow quirk he liked so much. “My t-shirt and jeans? You’re kidding, right?”

“What? I’m wearing a shirt and jeans, too.”

“Your shirt is made from the finest silk China could afford and mine is a mix of cotton and polyester.”

“Close enough. At least our jeans match.” Chan placed the belt free of champagne stains and leather wrinkles on the table. “Here’s your favorite belt of art that’s been passed around our friend group like a blunt.”

“Ooh, I can’t wait to hold something that’s touched nine millionaires’ crotches.”

“I bet,” he teased. “You look busy, so I’ll leave you alone.”

Normally, you’d be more than happy to bid a man farewell, but something came over you. “Actually, I’m not. Are you busy?”

“Me? No, why?”

“I’m kind of hungry. Would you like to join me for dinner?”

Chan had to stop his grin from growing. He couldn’t look too excited, or that would creep you out. And to think he doubted himself about winning you over. You even beat him to asking you out! “I’d love to. I know the perfect place.”

“I’m sure you know this by now from my impeccable style but please choose somewhere affordable.”

“This place is cheap, I promise.”

“Like two dollar signs on Yelp cheap?”

“One.”

“Now you’re talking my language, Mr. Chan.”

He’ll talk all your ‘languages’ - your food language, your money language, your love language - he’ll come to know all of them like the back of his hand.

Despite picking a place to eat for the both of you to enjoy without denting your bank account, Chan ended up paying for both of your meals with his black metal credit card.

“Hey, why’d you do that!?” you whined.

“I never let my friends pay when they’re with me.”

“Well, I’m not one of your money-hungry friends! I have pride and dignity! This means I owe you a meal next time.”

“Ok, it’s a date.”

Chan was making his way towards the door before you could fully process the exchange. A date? Oh God, was tonight’s dinner a date!? No way, right…? Out the door, you saw him chuckle at how confused your face must have looked and he ushered you with his hand to hurry and follow.

Smooth move, Mr. Chan… I’ll let that one slide.

two years ago:

Falling for Chan was effortless. After dinner the night he returned Felix’s belt, spending time together happened so frequently that you didn’t even notice how fast you were falling. You hate to sound cliche, but Chan wasn’t like all the other rich kids within their massive social circle. He didn’t flaunt his worth, he didn’t judge you for your lack thereof, nor was he some dumb ass kid going to school to just party and hook up every other night.

Chan was kind. He’d always put your needs above his, like wanting to pay him back for all the food he’d buy, but that got hard to keep up with real fast. He never wanted you to pay him back in the first place, but if buying him a cup of coffee would make you happy, then so be it. He’d always walk you back to your dingy apartment after dinner or drive you home in his blacked-out Ferarri after studying at the library so late because he worried about you walking alone in the dark. You fell faster on the days you were sick and he’d stop by with the best chicken soup in the city, packets of fragrant teas to chase the Nyquil, and the fancy tissues with vapor rub and soothing lotion. But he must do these kinds of things with all of his friends, because that’s the kind of person he was.

Chan was intelligent. He told you about his childhood spent in private schools with private tutors while playing sports and instruments and learning multiple languages and if he didn’t rank in the top 5% every year, he got his ass handed to him by his mother (fourth year of high school was rough). What amazed you even more was how he retained all of the languages and talent.

“I took five years of Spanish and I can speak at a child’s level,” you pouted. “How the hell do you know seven languages!?”

“Gotta learn the languages of where the hotels are located, y’know?”

“Of course…”

Chan was passionate. Not just about the charity work his family does, not just about the hotel business, but every little thing that interested him sparked a little fire inside. Chan put his mind, body, and soul into all his projects, his work, and everything he ever cared about. When he’s focused and has a goal in mind, he won’t stop until he gets it done and the execution is perfect. You thought it was kind of hot - the way his pupils dilated, the satisfied smirk after completing something, the dangerous little sparkle in his eyes… So hot.

It was the little things that solidified his place in your heart. All the times he tucked your hair behind your ears, when his hand was on the small of your back to guide you, and when his breath tickled your ear when he leaned in close to whisper were all little catalysts to your already-aching heart that beats for him.

What were you to do? You, a simple woman growing up nowhere near his and Felix’s type of lifestyle. You didn’t have diamond-encrusted pacifiers, or ten maids and nannies, or a yacht that you got on your eighteenth birthday. You lived a simple teenage and young adult life that you wouldn’t change for the world, yet you fell for someone who had everything served to him on silver platters and fine china. You thought that there was no way you two could ever work even if he reciprocated your feelings.

But he didn’t see you as the simple woman you saw in the mirror. He saw the extraordinary, goofy, diligent, beautiful you all the time. Your background or financial status didn’t matter to him. The way you smiled at him mattered; the way your hand lingered on his arm a little longer after you hit him for something funny he said mattered; the dreamy look in your eyes that you had whenever you looked at him mattered. Nothing else mattered.

“Why do you always look at me like that?” he asked you one evening while hanging out on his massive penthouse porch.

“Like what?”

“With your wide eyes and that soft little smile that breaks all the boys’ hearts,” he teased. “Did I do something? Am I that sexy?”

“Shut up,” you blushed. “I’m just thinking about how it’s weird being friends with you.”

“Why weird?”

“I don’t know. I’m not used to being around all of this.” Your arms widened to showcase Chan’s apartment that was at least ten times the size of yours.

“Ah, you mean my butt load of money. Even after two years of being The Dynamic Duo?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. I just feel out of place, you know? I see the way some of your other friends look at me. It shouldn’t bother me so much, but I can’t help it. I feel like I don’t have the prerequisites to be your friend.”

“Who’s looking at you funny? Is it Bambam? I’ll kick his ass -”

“Stop, don’t kick your friends’ asses.”

“They just haven’t gotten to know the wonderful, thoughtful, dumb ass _____ yet.” Chan pulled you into a tight bro-like hug and ruffled your hair like a little kid to mask his rapidly-beating heart. “Don’t pay attention to them. You should know by now I don’t care about money.”

“But -”

“None of that about you matters to me, ok? Only you matter.”

You learned by now to not be affected by his poetic words, but tonight you fell back into your old habits. Only you mattered to him - that felt good. Feeling defeated by your dumb feelings, but comforted at the same time, you lazily wrapped your arms around Chan’s tiny waist as you lay your head on his shoulder.

“You’re so corny,” you muttered.

He ruffled your hair once more. “Only for you.”

It was then you thought to yourself that maybe this could work. Maybe falling for him wasn’t a mistake and being together wasn’t so far-fetched and being loved was something obtainable. For the first time, you thought having Chan by your side wasn’t as ridiculous as it seemed.

But of course, it wasn’t that simple. Nothing was simple when it came to Bang Chan. It was always out of the ordinary. Extraordinary. The night you realized you and him would never be was the same night you witnessed what life was like when you could drown in your own gold and jewels.

“Singapore?” you repeated to your two Aussie friends incredulously. “You’re going to Singapore just for the weekend?”

“We’re going to Singapore,” Chan corrected.

Felix called you and said to come over immediately because it was an emergency, which was Felix talk for ‘I have a trip in a couple of days and I need you to help me pick out my outfits.’ Really, you never actually helped with the picking process, he just wanted you there to tell him he looked good. So as usual, you sat in one of his oriental-style bright red cushioned chairs that were placed on both ends of the ten-by-ten foot mirror in his massive walk-in closet and Chan stood next to you, wondering how you ever put up with Felix’s outfit changes. Tonight wasn’t the usual packing agenda when they broke the news to you that yes, you were definitely joining them on a weekend trip to Singapore for Choi San’s birthday this weekend.

“I can’t afford that!” you screeched. “I can’t just book a flight and a hotel like this on the spot!”

“Oh, _____, you’re so cute ~” Felix teased, adjusting the collar on his shirt. “Like hell am I going to let us fly like the locals. We’re using my Dad’s private jet and staying in Chan’s private Black and White bungalow, of course. And none of us have to pay a dime.”

“But I don’t even know San like that.”

“You will this weekend. C’mon, it’ll be so much fun! It’s going to be the party of the century! He always throws the most extra parties.” 

“Even if I did want to go, I don’t have the clothes for it. I don’t own anything high-end like you guys. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

“I already got that covered.” With his shirt half-buttoned, Felix ran to the other side of the closet to open a door you had never seen before. Inside of his bedroom, which held a 500 square foot closet, held a smaller 300 square foot closet. A closet within a closet - closet-ception, if you will. You didn’t have to go inside to see all the crystal-embroidered tulle gowns and the silkiest shirts that hung on black velvet hangers. “My older sister keeps her clothes here sometimes so Dad doesn’t see it. Just borrow some of her stuff.”

“I can’t just take her clothes!”

“Actually, she already picked out the ones she thinks would look best on you,” Felix showed you her incoming text messages as proof that one, you definitely had her permission to wear whatever you’d like and two, she thought you looked best in Valentino.

“Ooh, Valentino ~ I agree,” Chan piped in.

“I don’t know…” you hesitated. You could handle Felix and Chan and their riches when it was just the two of them, but to be surrounded by hundreds of people who had the same kinds of bank accounts? And you, floating among them in clothing that wasn’t even yours, faking your way into the social circle? It sounded like a suicide mission.

“You’ll have one of us by your side the whole time, we promise. We want you to meet our friends and show you that not all rich people are assholes like our parents.” Chan stuck out his lower lip and clasped his hands together like a kid begging for some ice cream. “Please come?”

Felix joined in with the begging and now you have two golden retriever puppies begging you to go on what should be a multi-million dollar vacation for the weekend with them, dressed to the nines twenty-four seven. You had to be crazy to not immediately scream yes, but the whole idea of this weekend was just terrifying. But you’d be with Chan, vacationing in a beautiful country, with him by your side. You couldn’t pass this opportunity up.

“Fine,” you sighed in defeat.

“Yes! Ooh, this weekend is going to be so much fun! Hey, we should all match for the party! _____, I know exactly what you should wear -”

Chan snickered at the excited boy pulling out piles and piles of clothes to dress his new life-size doll. You already deeply regretted your decision.

As Felix held up pastel-colored tulles and jewel-toned satins up to your body in front of the ridiculously-sized mirror, Chan couldn’t help but fantasize about the weekend. He already had it all planned out - you would take the front seat in his cherry-red convertible and breathe in the clean Singaporean air with the biggest smile on your face as you all pulled up to his Black and White bungalow, your eyes would widen at the decor, you’d claim the bedroom right next to his, you’d take tons of pictures and capture every moment together, eat the foods he grew up with when he spent his summers here, and then party ‘til the sun rose. You’d look so beautiful in whatever Felix chose, and you’d link arms with him like you two were together. Then you’d dance, drink, and laugh the night away in his arms for hours. Felix would probably stray away to find some poor soul to bother and that’s when it’d be just the two of you. When the party was too much to handle or the alcohol was too strong, he’d walk you home. If you were stumbling over little bumps, he’d pick you up and carry you the whole three blocks distance and you’d be so cute and giggly that he, too, couldn’t help but laugh because the warmth of your blushing cheek pressed against his made his heart ecstatic. Once you arrive home, he’d take you to the backyard and you two would stargaze or watch the sun rise, depending on how late you came home. You’d start out with some space in between. Then he’d get closer. Then he’d brush his hands against yours. Then he’d hold them, fingers laced loosely at first, hoping you’d squeeze back tightly. Finally, he’d confess that after two years of knowing you, he’s fallen for you harder every single day since he met you at the coffee shop. If you felt the same, then perfect, the night would end with a soft kiss. If you didn’t, he’ll run to the pier and sail his yacht all the way back home and claim he was blackout drunk, or something.

Yeah, that sounded like a solid plan. What could go wrong?

It was six in the morning when you were dragged out of bed and thrown into Chan’s Ferrari. Felix’s private jet only had you, him, and Chan as passengers. You thought for something as big as a damn plane that maybe the whole friend group would be tagging along, but apparently they insisted on flying on their own and leaving a larger carbon footprint, but hey you weren’t surprised in the least. That just meant less arguing over what to watch on the eighty-inch flat screen and more champagne for the three of you.

“Holy shit,” you muttered after taking the middle seat in front of the television.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Felix boasted, hopping on the seat to your left. “Have I not introduced you to JASMINE before?”

“I think I’d remember if I’ve been on your private jet before.”

“Ah, maybe I’m remembering the time you went on my yacht, ROSEMARY.”

Chan joined in to your left with a handful of flute glasses filled with bubbly, golden champagne and a single raspberry at the bottom for you and Felix. He raised his glass in celebration. “Cheers to the weekend.”

“It’s six thirty in the morning,” you groaned tiredly.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

“You can’t keep using that excuse, Chan, your liver will fail you one day.”

“A wise man once said YOLO, my dearest _____, so let’s drink to that!”

“Ugh… cheers,” After taking a sip, your face twisted sourly. “Oh, that’s not good…”

“It’s terrible, but it gets the job done.”

“You’re both crazy, I love this stuff,” Felix said, chugging the whole glass. “Forget water, make sure only champagne and 1738 course through my veins for the next two days.”

For the duration of the six hour flight, the three of you watched one horror movie (to which Felix cowered under his fluffy monogrammed blanket) and one romantic comedy (to which Felix cried while holding his Rilakkuma bear). Then after the smoothest plane landing you’ve ever experienced, you finally landed in the beautiful country of Singapore. The skies were so blue, the skyline was gorgeous, hell even the airport was voted the most beautiful airport in the world. A red convertible pulled up to the three of you waiting at the arrivals section and the driver tossed Chan the car keys. As the driver put your luggage in the back of a separate car, Chan opened the passenger seat open for you like a gentleman.

“Your chariot awaits, my darling,” he smiled cheekily. “Her name is Cherie.”

“Do all rich people name their motor vehicles?”

“Of course, it’s only right.”

The crisp afternoon air felt good flowing between your fingers. Chan caught glimpses of your smile and knew then that inviting you to this weekend was the best decision he’s made concerning you. His plan was going swimmingly thus far - now to survive the next couple days.

The Black and White house was quite literally a Black and White house, but it was nothing close to being monotonous. It was a beautiful symmetrical white bungalow with black trimming and a tanned overhanging roof. All of the shutter-style windows were wide open, allowing the same beautiful breeze to pass through the house, wafting the smell of fresh scones and muffins as you walked through the door. The inside of the house got more extravagant with every step you took. The walls were all white (porcelain white, not daisy, of course), the tiles a glossy pearl, every corner filled with the greenest potted plants and too many antique potteries to count, high ceilings with a crystal chandelier dropping in the living room, and a deep mahogany wood door that led to the backyard that overlooked the entire city.

“You vacationed here in the summer!?” you gasped.

“Yup, every year.”

“It’s beautiful!”

“You should see Changbin’s bungalow,” Felix interjected. “He demanded the house to be repainted black instead of the classic white.”

“My childhood summers were spent on my grandparent’s farm. I can’t imagine what it’d be like to wake up every morning to freshly-made scones and fruit jam.”

Chan led you up the stairs to show you the bedrooms. You lost count of how many there were by the time you got to his. His room was enormous, with a king-sized bed right in the middle covered in the fluffiest white covers. He had his guitar and other music-related toys on one wall of the room with a soft yellow neon sign that said ‘CB97’ mounted high on the wall with posters beside it. His room was decorated very Chan-like, and you thought it was quite charming.

“I didn’t like being by my siblings, so I asked to get the one at the very end and the spares were used whenever Felix and the guys came over. Felix’s is across the hall and your’s is the one next door.”

“Ah yes, Chan’s room - where all the magic happened,” Felix teased, jumping on the bed. “I’ve heard way too many stories about the girls you’d take up here -”

“Ah ha ha ~! No need to relive that!” Chan blushed deeply.

“You’re suddenly shy about it now? You sure didn’t have any problem boasting about it every summer.”

“That was so long ago.”

“Please, two years was not that long ago. Didn’t you come her last year, too? God, who knows what happened then.”

Your heart sunk. So he’s taken girls up here before. A lot of girls, according to Felix, and by the way Chan blushed from embarrassment, he wasn’t denying it, either. It wasn’t right for you to feel jealous, you didn’t even know him during those times, unless he had a fling last summer that no one knew about. No, it definitely wasn’t right for you to feel jealous, but the burning in your chest was a little difficult to ignore at one in the afternoon.

“Gross,” you say as light-heartedly as you could. You left sourly without another word to unpack your belongings.

Fuck. Damn Felix and his big ass mouth! You probably thought he was a disgusting playboy now. This was one of several things Chan was afraid of when you were introduced to this side of his life - that his scandalous, rebellious past would come back to haunt him and hit you in the face and you’d be so turned off by it. Well, that’s exactly what happened, not one hour on the island. He couldn’t help that he was a horny teenager back then! Chan chucked one of the embroidered silk pillows at his cowering childhood friend before hastily following you.

You held up a jewel-toned satin piece that Felix chose from his sister’s closet. It was different than the one chosen a couple of nights ago (“_____, I change my mind, wear this one instead.” “Wha - Felix, we’re leaving in ten minutes!” “Just trust me!”), but Chan thought this one suited you much better. The look on your face said you thought otherwise.

“Not a fan of Valentino?” he teased.

“Quite the opposite. I think it’s beautiful, it’s just I don’t think it’ll look beautiful on me.”

“Nonsense. You look beautiful in anything.”

“There’s no need to lie.”

“Who’s lying? You look especially dashing in t-shirt and jeans.”

“My impeccable sense of style,” you giggled. “Is the party tonight really going to be this fancy? Isn’t it just a house party?”

“My dear _____, it’s not just any house party, it’s the house party,” Chan corrected. “San owns the biggest Black and White bungalow in the country. He decks it out to the max with unnecessary decorations, hires Singapore’s multi-Michelin star restaurants to cater, ships in expensive wines and spirits, and hires those exotic dancers that hang from the ceiling. San’s parties make international headlines, and this one’s extra special because it’s his birthday, so yes, fancy is just an understatement.”

“Yeah, I really don’t belong here…”

“Don’t worry about it for now. What we need to worry about is lunch, ‘cuz I’m starving.”

“Hey, I’m gonna be with Jisung and Changbin until the party. I’ll just see you guys there,” Felix waved off casually.

“Guess it’s just you and me.” Chan hoped he didn’t look too glad Felix was gone. “I want to take you to a restaurant I always ate at in the summer.”

“How many dollar signs on Yelp?”

“Not telling ‘cuz I’m paying.”

“Chan, you ass, you said you’d make things even from now on!”

“A man just wants to fly his friend to a whole new country and treat her to his favorite restaurant, is that too much to ask for!?”

You didn’t answer while following a happy-go-lucky, skippy Chan to his red convertible. You’ve never seen him so happy before. He must have missed being on the soil that held his summer-y childhood memories. Being in the hot sticky sun in the house he loved the most with the widest, dimple-iest smile on his cute lips let you know that Chan was at home. Spending every moment with him for the next two days watching his smile grow as he revisited memory lane would make it hard for your heart to stop fluttering.

It was no more than a ten minute drive from his house, but from where you parked, you couldn't spot any restaurants.

"It's a bit of a hole in the wall. I hope you don't mind walking a bit."

"Not at all! The best places to eat are always hidden well."

The surrounding area reminded you of the more crowded and space-efficient parts of home. The buildings were all kind of squished together with tiny alleys in between and there was a ton of foot traffic, but it was probably because it was the weekend. You almost lost track of Chan until he grabbed onto your hand and guided you through the sea of locals.

"It's a little overwhelming if you haven't been here before," he said apologetically. "It's worth the journey, I promise."

"You used to come here a lot over the summer?"

"Almost every day. The woman who runs the place was like another grandmother to me. She is the sweetest thing. Oh, there she is!"

Chan sharply turned the corner of the street and you were taken to a whole other dimension. It reminded you of the beginning scene in Spirited Away when Chihiro and her parents stumbled upon the empty street filled with different tents of food, only this time you couldn't even see past the second tent. Even in the daytime, a place like this seemed so magical that it was no wonder a kid wanted to come here everyday. The different spices and aromas marinated in the air and it was so heavenly, you couldn't wait to get a bite! Somewhere in the middle, the tent that Chan had been dying to go to all year round was right where he left it.

"Auntie!" Chan called from the back of the endless line.

"Eh?" A cute little woman with a floral bandanna and red apron squinted in your direction. The second she saw Chan's handsome face, her grumpy expression smoothed to that of a grandma seeing her grandson grow so much in just a single year. "Channie! You're back for the summer!?"

"Just for the weekend, auntie."

She didn't miss a single beat as she continued to serve her loyal customers. "Ah, you're too busy to visit me everyday now, huh?"

"Sadly, yes," he pouted.

"You want the usual, Channie?"

"Yes, please! Can you make that two?"

"Eh?" Again, the little woman squinted in your direction. Chan had let go of your hand and placed them on your shoulder, indicating that you were his guest of honor this afternoon. A teasing twinkle gleamed in her youthful eyes. "Ah, I see ~"

Chan didn't deny her teasing. He didn't say, 'nah, it's not like that' or say 'she's just a friend'. Instead, he hung his head down embarrassingly, his grin not faltering, neither yours. You wondered what he was thinking.

The line was long, but it moved quickly when Chan was by your side telling you stories of his childhood spent with Felix and his other friends making a ruckus in the streets and buying up all the meat skewers until not a single shop had any left.

"Jeez, growth spurt much?"

"Hey, a man's gotta eat, ok?"

Finally, it was your turn in line, and the Queen of the shop already had two plates full of noodles slathered in a dark, sweet-smelling sauce and two large styrofoam cups.

"Channie never ate anything else besides my kway teow noodles,” Auntie told you. “The first few years of eating it as a little boy, he thought there were no vegetables, so I never told him there were any because it was the only way he'd eat them - covered in my special sauce.”

"No need to relive my unhealthy childhood…" he muttered while you laughed.

"It's fine now, since you've grown up to be so~o handsome!" she pinched his chubby cheek. "Finally, you have yourself a girlfriend. 'Bout time! Even San beat you! But that’s no surprise, the ladies love that bad boy."

"O-Oh, we're not…!" you stuttered nervously, unable to finish your sentence. She really was like an embarrassing auntie…

"We're not together like that," Chan concluded. “She’s just a close friend.”

She scoffed incredulously. "Yeah, for now."

"Auntie!"

She ignored her favorite customer’s whining and turned to you once more. “Watch out for this playboy, he’ll be hard to tie down.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Chan needed to get you out of there before any more of his past was brought up. So much for his stellar, fool-proof plan. He handed Auntie what looked to be a lot of money, but you’re not sure what the conversion is to their dollar. A quick kiss on her cheek and he whisked you away. “Bye, Auntie! Love you!”

“Visit me more often, you stingy brat! And by, sweetheart, it was nice meeting you!” she called out sweetly.

Chan hastily grabbed one of the wooden benches just outside of the long street of vendors. He seemed quite relieved to have left his favorite food stand before Auntie revealed too much of the past summers. Your feelings clashed with a sense of jealousy and a bit of pride that she thought you were his girlfriend. Yet again did you have to remind yourself that no, _____, you cannot be jealous, you dumb ass!

“Sorry about that,” Chan sighed. “She doesn’t have a filter.”

“I like her. She’s very spunky,” you laughed. “Does she do that to all the girls you bring to her?”

“No. Why would you think that?”

“It seems like she’s met a few of them.”

“I’ve told her stories, but I’ve never brought any of them to this place. Now that I think about it, you’re the first girl I’ve brought to her. That’s probably why she thinks we’re serious.”

“Really? Why’s that?” You took your first bite of the savory-sweet noodles. It’s chewy, glutenous gold. “Holy shit.”

“Crazy good, right? Auntie makes them the best. And you’re asking why I never brought anyone else here?” You nodded silently, too preoccupied stuffing your face with Chan’s childhood favorite dish. “This place holds a special part of my childhood. I can’t just bring anyone here.”

“What’s makes it so special?” You took a sip from the styrofoam cup. It’s sugarcane juice!

“When I was a kid, I didn’t come here to bask in the sunlight and play at the beach all day. I’d go to summer school during the day where I was taught math and economics at least two grades ahead of me and attend Mom’s business and charity meetings in the evening. I was always so tired, no matter what time of day it was. One time, I was being so bratty and was crying so much from all the unwanted stress and my parents didn’t like it because I’m supposed to be the Charity Chairman’s perfect son and the perfect heir to the hotel franchise, you know? But I just wanted to be a kid. My family got so mad at me for being selfish that they kicked me out of the house for the night without dinner and I couldn’t come back until the morning.”

“That’s crazy! Where did you sleep!?”

“The pool house behind the main house,” he stated obviously.

“Oh, of course. Silly me.”

He threw his crumpled-up napkin at you before continuing. “That’s when I met Auntie. I was crying and wailing and sobbing like a baby on a Wednesday evening, so it wasn’t busy and no one really saw me. I sat at this very bench with my head down crying until I could fall asleep because I really didn’t want to return home. Then I felt someone nudge me awake. It was Auntie, and she gave me a bowl of curry with some paratha and I thought, ‘an old lady wouldn’t try to poison me, right?’ So I inhaled that whole bowl and chugged all of the chocolate Milo. I tried paying her with all the cash I had because I was so thankful, and she couldn’t believe a young kid like me had so much in the first place, but she never took it. I came every week to order from her and she remembered me every time. I tried everything on the menu by my tenth visit, and the kway teow is my favorite. I’d come here after a rough day with my parents, after I failed an exam, after I cried over some girl I had a crush on, after I found out my Dad had a mistress, you name it. Sometimes I came for no reason at all - I just didn’t want to be home.”

A shaky sigh escaped Chan’s lips. His eyes were glossy and it broke your heart to see Chan on the brink of tears, but he’s smiling. His upbringing was rough, but he’s smiling because he wouldn’t have survived his childhood without the spunky woman behind the food stand in the middle of the street. You dared to reach across the table and hold his hand, hoping he’d find some comfort in your touch. He does, and you know so by the way he squeeze it back so tightly. There were no more tears in his eyes.

“This place was my secret hideout for a good chunk of my life. I can’t just bring anyone here.” Chan began to trace little circles on the back of your hand.

“What am I if I’m not just anyone?”

“Special,” he replied. “To me, you’re special.”

The air was filled with your cute giggles and you took your hand back to cover your blushing, glowing face. Chan always had a way with words. “You’re a cornball!”

“I’ll have you know that the ladies love cornballs!”

“Not this one.”

“Oh, hold still, you got a little of the dark sauce on your cheek.” Chan leaned over the table with a napkin in his hand as you sat still. The very last second, he drops the napkin, scooped up a hefty dollop on his finger, and smeared it on your cheek.

“EW!”

“That’s what you get!”

Your special man began running to the car with you on his tail laughing like two young lovers on their honeymoon. Both of you failed to see someone taking pictures as they sent them to San’s entire guest list.

“Bro, you look hot.”

You jumped at Felix’s comment and chuck a pillow at his almost-shirtless torso. He had a weird habit of not buttoning up his shirts until the last minute. One of his many idiosyncrasies. 

“Chill, that’s a compliment! Didn’t I pick out a hot Valentino piece? Chef kiss, m’lady.”

“You’re so gross… But you do have taste, so thank you. You really didn’t have to ask your sister to let me borrow this, though. I still feel terrible.”

“Shut up, you’re fine. She’s never going to wear that, I promise you. Besides, I can’t have someone not wearing designer stand next to me, that’d be blasphemous.”

“Can you please button up your shirt?”

“Why? These Hawaiian Sweet Rolls too much for you to handle?” he teased, flexing his six-pack. You dry heaved dramatically.

“You two are like siblings, it’s so funny - whoa,” Chan stopped mid-sentence, completely stunned by your presence. Of course he’d love how you looked if you wore a hoodie and jeans because he never even imagined you wearing something like this, but you blew him away.

“Good whoa or bad whoa?” you panicked.

“Definitely a good whoa… U-Uh, I mean, yeah. Yes.”

“Thank you,” you grinned. You eyed the man in the black and gold polka-dotted Muslin Yves Saint Laurent button up (buttoned too low, as usual) tucked loosely in Yves Saint Laurent cuffed trousers. Certainly, Chan was bound to be the center of attention at one point, regardless of whose birthday it was. Felix sported Louis tonight and you thought to yourself that you three were quite a sexy trio. “You two don’t look too bad yourselves.”

“Straight from the runway,” Felix boasted.

“Straight from my closet,” Chan shrugged.

“Can we get drunk before I cry about how much money I don’t have?”

Chan’s driver sported a white Rolls Royce to take you all there, despite it being only three blocks away (Felix was more than happy because he didn’t want to scuff his shoes). You thought you were fashionably late, but it turns out San was just showing off his cars and leaving them parked on the circular driveway. The size of his house made the cars look so, so tiny, but his house was truly enormous, way bigger than Chan’s. Couples among couples began to file in the house, making you feel nervous and very, very single.

“Do people usually bring a date to these parties?” you asked the boys.

“Yeah, for clout. Two shots later and suddenly everyone’s up for grabs,” Felix explained, walking up the driveway without waiting. “I’ll see y’all back at home. Or not. Don’t wait up for me ~”

When Chan saw that what Felix said didn’t lessen your nerves one bit, he held his arm out for you. “Wanna be my date for tonight?”

“You won’t ditch me after two shots?”

“Two, no. Five, maybe.”

How could you deny his dimpled grin? You couldn’t, so you slipped your arm through and walked into San’s palace. You were taken to a whole new world; a whole new dimension of luxury and riches that you only tapped into upon landing here. There was indeed dancers twirling on ribbons from the ceilings, loud music from some famous DJ that headlined at EDC, and liquor of every shade of gold in crystal glasses. Everything was so magnificent and expensive, it was like you couldn’t even afford to look at anything or even anyone. Everyone who was anyone was here, and you recognized a lot of their faces from Chan and Felix’s social media. You couldn’t even pronounce the brands they were wearing! Again, Chan sensed your anxiousness, something he was so unbelievably good at, and slipped his arm down so that he could grab on to your hand. He figured if you were able to let all his past worries go away by just holding his hand across the table that he could do the same, only this time he was by your side like he always wanted to be. You always predicted that his hand would fit so nicely in yours.

“CHAN! MI AMIGO!” San screamed into the mic from the dance floor. “Everyone, the sexiest bachelor of the hour has arrived!”

“Oh, boy,” he sighed.

He was surprised to hear you giggle at his friend’s nickname. “Looks like we came a little late.”

San stumbled in front of you before falling into your arms for a tight hug. You weren’t used to such an affectionate San - you shared multiple classes with him and you’re surprised he even remembered you, if you were being honest.

“Happy birthday, San,” you struggled to say as you held the boy up.

“Hi, _____! Thank you! I’m so glad you’re here!” San’s foxy eyes widened at the sight of his questioning friend. “Chan! I missed you!”

“Miss you, too, buddy,” he chuckled, hugging the sloppy man. “Happy birthday, bro. Making Mina work hard, I see.”

“Why, do you see her!? Don’t tell her you saw me!” And that was the last time you saw San.

Chan shook his head at his childhood friend. Then he took your hand and lead you deeper into the party. “Let’s go find people we actually know.”

As you slipped between the crowd, you felt eyes staring. A bunch of eyes, actually. A lot of them. The owners were mostly girls, ones you recognized, and that’s when you knew it was because of Chan, the bachelor of the century. They eyed you maliciously, switching between judging you from what you were wearing and your hold onto Chan’s hand. Where was that handsome waiter with a tray full of shots? You needed that right about now.

On cue, Chan handed you liquid gold. “Cheers to a fun night.”

“Right… Cheers.” Bottoms up! Oh God, that burned! But the warm finish was quite nice. “More, please.”

“Jeez, what for? You trying to leave me after two shots already?” he teased.

“No, I’m just trying to blind myself from all those… eyes…”

“Huh?” Chan caught a glimpse of what you meant when he caught the eyes of familiar flings and old friends. His jaw clenched. “Don’t worry about them, ok?”

“I’m trying, but you’re holding me back if I can’t take at least one more shot.” Reluctantly, your handsome date gave you what you wanted and he followed suit. “Bottoms up!”

Bottoms up indeed, several times too many, if Chan thought so himself. But you were loosening up and not worrying about another thing he feared about this trip - that you would meet his exes, or worse, they would do something to hurt you because that’s just what girls with tons of money do. He soon forgot about all his worries when you dragged him on the dance floor and had your body pressed up against his. You were so goofy and cute when you were drunk just by itself, singing to all the songs and taking silly selfies, but when you were dancing? He could hardly keep his hands off of you.

Chan pulled away and you pouted, not wanting the warmth of his body to leave even for one second, but he told you he had to go to the bathroom and that he’d be right back, so don’t you move! But your intoxicated self didn’t listen and you found yourself wandering to the backyard where Hyunjin, Woojin, and a bunch of people you were familiar with gathered around the open-pit fire and having a little party themselves.

“Did _____ get her Rich Bitch ID?” Hyunjin teased, looking at the label of your dress. “Shit, I guess she has.”

“It’s Felix’s sister’s, so no, it’s just a fake ID to last me the night.”

Woojin swung his arm around you boyishly. “You’re always welcome to OUR Rich Bitch club. No cover for girls,” he winked.

“How generous of you.”

Chan didn’t take long in the bathroom. He made sure to come back to you as quickly as possible to pick up where you left off, but after a couple of minutes searching the crowd, he couldn’t find you. He’s not surprised you wandered off somewhere, he just wished you sent him a text, or something. He felt a tap on his shoulder, thinking it was you, but it ended up being Sana, his old fling.

“Channie!” she squealed happily, throwing her arms around his neck. “I missed you ~!”

“Hey, I missed you, too,” he hugged back awkwardly. “Long time no see.”

“I’m glad the feeling’s mutual. Whatcha doing?”

“I’m just looking for someone…” he said, continuing to scan the crowd like she wasn’t there. He shouldn’t have drank so much…

“You mean _____?”

How did she know your name? Not important. “Oh, yeah. Have you seen her?”

“She’s outside with Woojin.”

“With Woojin…?”

“Yup! Take a look.”

Sana took Chan by the hand and lead him to the back door. His tunnel vision, though quite blurry, found you with your back facing the door and Woojin, his childhood rival, to your right, where he had his arm around your shoulder. Oh, he was such a Kim! He always snatched whatever was his when he wasn’t looking, just like that modelling contract! Normally, Chan would be the bigger person and not care, but this was you, someone so important to him. He couldn’t let this go that easily. There’s this uncharacteristic rage and jealousy that built up in his chest, making his heart hurt with every beat. You weren’t even doing anything, but seeing you in someone else’s arms just as he left for the damn bathroom? After trying to make you his for so long? It hurt. It really, really hurt...

Sana took the opportunity to pull him away from you. “Hey, let’s dance. Like we used to.”

Without hesitating, Chan took the lead and went to the dance floor.

Time passed like it meant nothing while you caught up with some good friends, but sobriety was kicking in at three in the morning and you wondered how long Chan needed to go to the bathroom.

“I’m going to find my damn date,” you waved off to them.

Even at three in the morning, the house was still as crowded as ever, bumping music like the sun wasn’t going to rise in a couple of hours. You searched every room, every face on the dance floor, near every waiter that had a platter of liquor on it, and he was nowhere to be seen! Even the rooms that held couples making out (and then some) luckily didn’t have him in it, but where could he be? You ended up in the front yard last, perhaps he was looking at San’s cars, or something.

But that wasn’t where you saw him. At the end of the driveway, where it met the main street, you saw Chan walking some girl dressed in diamonds and crystals on the way back to the house.

That was the moment you knew you and Chan could never be. Even when he was with you for ninety percent of the night, he chose someone else. He was made to live his life in luxury, and that meant his love life was meant for luxury, too. No matter what you did, no matter how much you thought he liked you, how much you thought you were special to him, you could never live up to any of these other women at this party. You were nothing compared to them because you had nothing. You should have known better than to think otherwise.

“Hey,” you heard someone behind you. It was the ever-so handsome and dashing Woojin. Even in the dead of night, he looked so handsome. “Did you find Chan?”

“Um…” your voice was shaking. “Yeah, I think I saw him go home.”

From the tears in your eyes, Woojin assumed he didn’t go home alone. Typical heart-breaker Chan, always leaving girls behind to cry over him. Things never change. “Do you want me to walk you back?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

You and Woojin walked the three blocks in silence. There was a considerable amount of space in between as Woojin figured you didn’t want any man to be near you at the moment. Of course he understood - he’s had a fair share of his heart-breaking days. Those days were now over because he was getting tired of this lifestyle. His liver didn’t function like when he was younger and he craved something deeper than just one night stands. God, he sounded like a total douche.

The walk up Chan’s porch made you nervous and made Woojin nostalgic. He remembered coming here everyday after summer school when he was a kid. He kind of missed it here. Woojin was about to knock on the door but stopped when he realized you weren’t beside him. You stood by step, not wanting to go any further.

“Everything ok?” Woojin asked.

“Yeah… No. Not really. I don’t want to go to bed.”

“Why not?”

“Our rooms are next to each other and I don’t know how thin the walls are.”

Woojin didn’t laugh nor try to convince you otherwise. Instead, he walked up to you and stopped so close that you could smell his Gucci The Voice of the Snake cologne. Then, he smiled sweetly, a trait of his that you always thought was so cute, and sat on the stairs.

He patted the seat next to him. “I’ll keep you company.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t want to go home and I really don’t want to go back to the party.” His bottom lip pouted. “Please let me keep you company.”

You could use the distraction. “Even without trying, rich people get whatever they want.”

“Hey, we’re not all bad!”

“That’s what they all say,” you slurred, remembering that’s exactly what Chan said earlier.

“Yeah, you’re right. We’re pretty bad.”

“Maybe I should stop hanging around you guys and start hanging around my people.”

“But I like hanging out with you.”

“You know, before I met Felix and Chan and all your little yacht club friends who make fun of me for the clothes I wear -”

“Hey, that’s just Hyunjin, don’t lump us together like that! I like you no matter what you’re wearing.”

“- my life was so much simpler! I lived a simple life without luxury, I ate foods without truffles and caviar, I drank cheap soju like a regular poor delinquent instead of champagne and top-shelf liquor, and I didn’t like boys whose yearly income were worth ten times as much as I’d make in ten years!” You cried out to the skies above and buried your face in your hands. “Biggie was right… Mo Money Mo Problems…”

“There there…” Woojin comforted awkwardly.

“Woojin, can you be honest with me for a sec? Coming from a sad, average girl seeking advice from a rich bitch like yourself?”

“Of course.”

“Was I stupid to think I was anything special to Chan?”

Again, the handsome man beside you wrapped his arm around your shoulder like a good friend. Woojin was always a good friend to you. Outside of Felix and Chan, he was the only other man who was kind, despite you not being like the rest of his social circle.

“You said I can be honest, right?” he asked nervously.

“Oh my God, I’m an idiot.”

“Hey, that’s not what I was going to say. I was thinking naive was more of an appropriate word choice.”

“I’m so dumb, I might as well drop out.”

Woojin’s grip around you tightened. “Stop, don’t say that. You’re the smartest person I know, did you know that? Remember when you tutored all of us that one time? If you can tutor nine idiots in one session and we all somehow passed the class, you’re not an idiot.”

“Being book smart and Rich Boy smart are on two totally different levels of intelligence! Why am I so dumb in the latter!?”

“You aren’t. We’re the dumb ones. We let amazing people slip through our fingers because somehow this lifestyle sucks us back in. Some of us are able to overcome it, but most succumb to it.”

“... You’re right, you guys are the dumb ones.”

You and Woojin sat on Chan’s summer Black and White bungalow for hours, talking about the most useless things until the sun rose above the horizon and the light was almost blinding. It started out crying about how boys were stupid and ended with laughing until you couldn’t breathe from the stories he told you about his old flings.

“She said the mitochondria was the trap house of the cell,” Woojin tisked.

“She must have been kidding.”

“I can assure you she was not.”

“Wow,” you giggled. “You’ve dated a lot of… exciting people.”

“I wouldn’t say exciting…”

“Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I heard about some poor girl coming out of your place from Felix. He likes to whine about how lucky you are. Has Woojin lost his touch?”

“I will never lose my touch, don’t get that twisted,” he warned. “Maybe I’m tired of hook-ups. Maybe I’m trying to settle down.”

“Ha! Good one!”

“No, really!”

“Yeah, ok ~”

“Let me prove it. Let’s go on a date.”

Your laugh got caught in your throat. You’re stunned silent, looking at the man beside you like he was delusional. He had to be talking nonsense - it was six in the morning and neither of you had any sleep or anything to eat for several hours, he’s just talking crazy, right!? But the slight smirk on his lips told you that no, he wasn’t joking. He was enjoying that you were probably thinking about it right at this moment - what it’d be like to go on a date with Mr. Kim Woojin. He’s not wrong.

The front door to Chan’s house opened and startled you to death, but you’re so, so thankful that the girl Chan took home stumbled in between you two and you could avoid Woojin’s proclamation for a little longer. Both of you turned to see Chan in his pajamas bottoms and no shirt standing in the doorway, hair disheveled with droopy eyes, looking like he didn’t get any sleep at all.

Woojin helped you to your feet before greeting his old friend. “Good morning, Chan.”

The sleepy boy’s jaw tightened. Why did he look so triumphant? If you two were here the whole night, it’s not like you two did anything… right?

“Hey,” he greeted shortly. 

Woojin turned to you. “Think about it. I’ll see you later?”

You nodded silently, still too stunned to move. Then, taking advantage of your frozen form, Woojin swooped in for a quick kiss on the cheek.

Oh shit, this man was serious.

You’re completely sober and you really wished you weren’t because now you were going to reflect on everything that happened yesterday, from the time you landed until just this very second. On top of that, you were probably going to have to deal with Chan’s grumpy ass right now because when you walked right past him to the kitchen to chug a whole bottle of water, he followed right on your tail.

“How was last night?” he asked bitterly.

“Not as good as yours apparently,” you replied, trying to stay light-hearted and calm. Don’t get jealous, _____. You don’t have a right to.

“Nothing happened.”

“Oh?”

“She was puking all night. I barely had any sleep while taking care of her.”

“Did you bring her here just so she can puke in the comfort of your home, or was that just an inconvenient coincidence?” The words made you sound jealous, but you were genuinely curious. He claimed that nothing happened as if he knew you’d care if something did. Well, you didn’t!... you said, lying to yourself.

Chan stayed quiet. That was more than enough to answer your question.

“I’m tired,” you mumbled. “I’m going to bed.”

Chan wouldn’t let you. “What were you and Woojin doing?”

“Uh, talking?”

“On my porch?”

“Yeah? You left me at the party and I was all alone! So he was nice enough to walk me back here. I didn’t want to go inside to my room because God knows what you and her were doing there -”

“Nothing happened,” he repeated.

“Yeah, now I know. But if she wasn’t puking, who knows what would have happened, and guess what, I didn’t want to hear that or deal with it or even think about it, so we sat on your porch for hours until you opened the door.”

“You were the one who left me first. I thought you and I were having a great time! I was having so much fun with you and I wanted you back in my arms as soon as possible, but then I saw you in his. Do you know how much that hurt? I have liked you since the day you took my breath away when we first met, and I thought I could finally tell you that when you were back in my arms. But then I saw you in his and panicked. I swear to you, nothing happened with me and Sana. Nothing was going to happen, not when all I could think about was what you could possibly be doing with him. I thought you left me for him, and I got scared. I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry, ok? Can we talk about this over breakfast?”

That was what Chan wanted to say. But he’s tired, and he’s hurt, and the tears in your eyes were too much for him to handle. With his head down, he said,

“I hope you had fun.”

Chan brushed passed you to get to the coffee maker. He might as well stay up - what was the point in sleeping now?

You rushed up stairs so he didn’t see the tears rolling down your face.

The day was silent. Everything seemed to stop, but that was the last thing you wanted. You wanted to pack up, get in the damn cherry red convertible, and fly all the way home where you could forget about this whole weekend and the people involved. Felix finally made it home around noon, chatting nonstop about the yacht party that happened at four in the morning and all the girls he was talking to and thankful he couldn’t sense the tension between you and Chan.

The drive to the airport was silent. The flight back home was silent. The drive to your apartment was silent and the only noise you made that night was crying yourself to sleep.

Where did you go wrong? Was it when you wandered off to Woojin? Was it when you agreed to go on this trip? Was it when you fell for someone so unattainable for someone in your social class? Was it when you weren’t born with a billion dollars to your name?

Life was unfair and it had a funny way with playing with you and your heart.

You didn’t see Chan much after tonight.

[mochuelovelli]

Lilith for the character ask?

Oh boy, a controversial character! Gotta say, I stan James Charles /J

How do I feel about this character?:

On a real note, I do like Lilith as a character. When we first meet her, she's pompous and proud. Oozing with entitlement, she's easy to route against and you like to see her get worked up and "brought down" to Eda's level as the wild which so eloquently put it. Later on, but not too much later that it feels disingenuous, we really get to see her show that she cares for her sister. One might believe it is *Eda* being ridiculous, as far as the audience is aware, Lilith's offer holds little downsides. Eda would be cured and be afforded the luxuries of the upper class AND keep her magic. All she had to do was be the Emperor's soldier.

As to not get off track by talking about Eda, (im sure Lilith herself would loathe that lol) Lilith's reveal to have cursed her sister over a spot in the emperor's coven was...controversial to say the least. I don't think it's unpopular to voice that, yeah. It could've been communicated better to the audience since I saw plenty of commentators and regular fans themselves either thought Lilith cursing her sister was *needlessly* petty and not at all thought out (which yeah it kinda was).

From where I stand on that issue is, yeah, Lilith's whole reason to curse her sister could've been avoided by just talking to her sister and asking her to let her have this. BUT, I think a lot of people forget that the Emperor's coven would want to limit the number of powerful witches in their coven. Sure, Belos would want to be protected by a bunch of loyal soldiers, but he wouldn't want too much of the population to ever have a much power as him. So limiting the number of members in not just his coven but possible in the other major covens, would aid in controlling that population.

This might be pure hogwash but like, there are a ton of other "lesser" covens. So in my mind, it's more likely that the general population of witches gets sorted into one of the various miscellaneous. If you think limiting yourself to only practicing Illusion magic sucks, imagine only practicing whatever the fuck the "swag coven" does.

Lol gonna add a page break this shit is getting too long

Romantic Ships for this character?:

Hm, it's only s1 and we haven't seen her interact w/ many characters outside of her fam/Belos/actual children. I kinda jokingly ship here with Steve lol. Kikimora and her also have a funny dynamic but in all actuality, I don't ship her w/ anyone rn.

Non-Romantic Ships for this character?:

Her and Hooty lol. I mean Eda is an obvious answer but like, Hooty fucking with Lilith is too funny to not want to see. Her and King would be great too, probably get some good B plots out of it. It would be a good contrast since they both can be petty but in different ways and I think that would help flesh out their characters a bit more and maybe cause some introspection (at least on Lilith’s end lol)

Unpopular opinion about this character?:

Lol. I feel like she is such a divisive character in general that most opinions about her aren’t too out of the main stream. I guess a more meta take is that when she’s portrayed in fanworks, usually fanfic but not exclusively, very...one note lol. She’s usually a pretty flat, boring character in an attempt to highlight the contrast between her and Eda. She’s the straight-laced, “responsible” sibling who has a chip on her shoulder. In fanon, that equates to her characterization to either be like, completely and utterly apologetic to the point where it becomes unbelievable for any person to do. Her apologizing or making amends is usually quickly forgiven by Luz/and or Eda. Sure, Luz is very forgiving person naturally but like?? She’s wasn’t mad in canon too much about THEIR well being (almost getting impaled), she was specifically pissed about Lilith betraying Eda. 

So, if Lilith is a big part of your story (and it’s working in the realm of canon), then this should be a problem which doesn’t get resolved by just ONE big action. I also feel like her being on better terms with Eda would come BEFORE Luz since Eda’s main gripe with her would be about her being annoyed by Lilith’s controlling nature and the fact that she didn’t trust her enough to talk about her feelings back when she was first cursed (also her using Luz against her but I feel like that would probably be a hurdle that wouldn’t really be over come until Lilith in turn would be willing to sacrifice herself for Luz while also making an effort to care for Luz as a person not just see her as a “pet”). Hhhh this section is so long and its kinda bleeding over in the next question so-

Something I wish will happen or would have wanted to happen in canon?:

yall if you are still reading I am so sorry sksk

I want Lilith in general, not to be forgiven by either Luz or Eda. Eda probably early on stating about how she is unsure if she could EVER forgive her sister for what she has done. BUT, critically, Eda would see that Lilith is trying and she is willing to work with her (with a unhelpful dose of teasing) because at the end of the day she still loves her sister. For the relationship they had before everything with south, for knowing her side of the story even though she believes it doesn’t justify her actions. She understands and sympathizes, she’s grown a bit softer thanks to Luz, which is very funny since I want Luz to be the one who is the hardest to convince Lilith actually had a change of heart but more on that later. 

Before I move on to what I want her path towards forgiveness with Luz looks like, I want to bring up a parallel that I haven’t seen many people make. Fans always talk about the parallel between the Clawthornes and Luz/Amity, and rightly so because there is a lot to extrapolate there, but I think another interesting dynamic that might be interesting to see in s2 would be an episode that focuses on lost friendship/sisterhood with the Clawthornes and Amity and Willow. It’s kinda funny that Amity and Willow’s friendship was ruined because Willow was too “weak” while Eda was too “powerful”. In a potential episode, it can show the progression both Eda/Lilith and Willow/Amity are making in rekindling their relationship with each other. For Eda and Lilith this would be a lot more rough around the edges since it both be either the first or one of the first attempts at doing so while Willow/Amity would maybe be further along yet still have some major/minor hang ups with one another. With Willow/Amity, their relationship would either be rounding the bend of fully moving past the “idk how to feel about you stage” or it is stated outright that Willow forgives Amity, (and by forgive, I mean in the “we both know what you did, you’ve actually changed. we won’t have the same relationship that we once had but I’m okay with trying again”). In contrast, Lilith and Eda would reach a understanding and come up with some ground rules on how to handle each other (Eda’s main take away from this “episode” would be what I previously stated in the last question), ones that will be more like guidelines cuz its Eda lol. Also what separates the Clawthornes conflict from the Willow/Amity one (besides the obvious) is that the Clawthornes both know how the other works. Which buttons to push and all that so both of them are going to have to learn to resist doing that, at least a bit, in order to actually progress. 

ANYWAYS, I also want Luz to be the one to regard Lilith the coldest. Luz refusing to let Lilith teach her anything despite probably having more practical/book smarts knowledge on magic theory than Eda because she doesn’t trust her. If they are gonna use that masked dude as a spy, I want Luz to assume Lilith is somehow a coconspirator. This plot thread doesn’t have to be going at 100% the whole time, (in fact I would want it to be a temp thing maybe lasting a couple eps at most or like, just something that is hinted at but not dived deeply until the second half of the season). Really, Lilith has a hard time because Luz straight up doesn’t give her the opportunity to really express her regret/remorse. Lilith probably won’t at first give her a ton of reasons to forgive her as she usually attempts at coming back at Luz’s snide remarks with her own quippy comebacks. Sksk a really angsty end to an attempt could include Lilith saying something to Luz after going on a small talk with her (where yeah Lilith has improved but still needs noticeable work) that she “reminds her a lot of Eda” and Luz bites back with something like “Oh yeah? You going to curse me too? You want another person you can force to do what YOU want?”. 

Hell maybe “parental problems” could have Lilith poke at, either on purpose or accidentally, Luz’s feelings about going back to the human world and Camila. Lilith reminding her, maybe unknowingly, reminds her a lot of her mom and that causes her to blow up on her. Luz would hate that comparison, thinking about how similar her mom and Lilith are to one another. That because she still has such a strong dislike of Lilith, it bleeds over into how Luz views Camila and vice versa. In that, both Camila and Lilith value respect, an adherence to the rules, have a great sense of wisdom (arguably for Lilith lol /hj), and (eventually for Lilith once she gets to know Luz better) a genuine want for Luz to succeed and belief in her even though they are critical of her actions at times. Sure Eda reminds her of that more, motherly protective kind of love, in which she would do anything for her to be happy and healthy. Lilith can be the other side of that, the worry and slight doubt. That familiar way they each go about trying to understand and get close to Luz yet not quite getting it yet would still do whatever she’d ask for her sake. Luz at first would take Lilith being disappointed in her actions as an accomplishment. As they grow closer and the more Lilith reminds her of her mom, it becomes scary. The disappointment hurts and in an effort not to feel like that again and to not want to think about the comparison between Lilith and her mother she will snap back at her. Eventually Lilith would then have to change again and reassure her that she cares and by extent, her mother cares to. It is here Lilith is willing to let go of being so constantly controlling and learns to encourage first (or do some form of the compliment sandwich) and Luz comes to peace with her feelings about her mother and understands her position better. To be able to love herself even if she knows that she will always try to do her best. 

oh my fucking god you made it im so sorry i guess i had a lot of thoughts. fffffff

[descendantofthesparrow]

Harry Hook x Reader -oneshot - flu

@rikersgirl22 said:

Can I request a Harry fic where he falls ill and the reader takes care of him? If this isn’t something you write I understand.

the first half is very similar to @glitter-lisp s “painkiller, painkiller, sneezing thing, fever thing” which you can read here because it is inspired by it, I couldn't think of a way to start it so I slightly copied it, sorry.

---Harry--

He felt…bad…that was the best way to describe it, and dizzy, and achy…all around he just felt bad. He stumbled down the stairs of Evie's castle, gripping onto the rails as he focused on not cracking his head open on the bottom, Evie wouldn’t like that, and shed so generously opened her house to him when he’d got caught in the rain and her place was the only shelter close enough.

He did his best to keep his eyes open so he didn’t bump into anything while trying to reach Evie's medicine cabinet….medicine real medicine, something that didn’t exist on the isle. Harry caught himself on the counter as he stumbled to the cabinet, it hitched his side, he hissed, that was going to leave a mark.  His feet weren’t really cooperating, they felt far away and loose, he could feel himself shiver and tremble.

He reached the cabinet, he flung open the doors and squinted at the multiple canisters with odd names on them. Huffing he fumbled for the light, winching when the brightness made his headache worse, oh hades please let there be something to help with nausea.

There was, he grasped that, placing it down on the counter, along with a box with a picture of someone blowing their nose. There was also some painkillers, so he grabbed those as well.

His hands were shaking badly as he poured the pills into his hands, several spilling into his palm, he paused, putting all but one back into the bottle, he didn’t want to overdose or something.

Glancing back up he saw a bag with blue raspberry candies, that helped with sore throats and coughing. Those will be needed, especially with the crackly feeling at the back of his throat every time he swallowed. He grabbed a handful, stuffing them in the pockets of the black sweatpants Evie gave him.

Picking a pain killer for cramps (his lower torso area was starting to give him pause) he tossed that and the other pain killer in his mouth, gagging as they caught on his dry tongue, he rushed over to the sink, drool pooling from his mouth as he spit the two pills into his hand before his food from the day regurgitated.

Tears burned at his eyes, throwing up sucked, and the nasty taste of stomach acid made him want to gargle bleach.

What the fuck was up with Auradon medicine, Harry thought as he stuck his head under the faucet, turning it to cold. He groaned as he figured out you were probably supposed to drink water with the pills.

Stumbling back over to the medicine cabinet, picking the pills once more, not wanting to put the ones he half vomited over back in his mouth. his shakiness was not helping him get the pills, the cold tile of the floor was also not helping, he took off his socks before bed, so his feet were getting really cold and achy.

He stuck his head back under the faucet, carefully swallowing the pills so he wouldn’t puke again.

He slumped against the edge of the sink, shivering, hoping for the pills to take effect soon, when they didn’t he groaned lightly, using his palms to push himself back lightly and turn towards the stairs, wait…he glanced back at the pill bottles and huffed, trying his best to clean them up and put them away, but his trembling wasn’t helping, so he left them in a semi neat line on the counter below the cabinet and turned away from them. Sticking his hand in his pocket he fished out a candy, popping one in his mouth, the sweet flavor of blue raspberry soothing his throat.

Now to head back upstair and slee-…upstairs, he glanced at the dark hallway leading to the upper floor, and winced, getting down was hard enough, he might kill himself by trying to head back to his room.

Especially with the way his body was shaking from throwing up a few moments ago, and the cold tile on his feet wasn’t helping, he let out a shaky breath, rubbing his arms to reprive some warmth into them, too bad Evie didn’t give him a thicker top, with longer sleeves.

He glanced around, looking for a place to bunker down, table? Nah, that was right on top of the tile, too cold. Couch? Nonono still too cold.

He started towards Evie's workroom, there HAD to be blankets in there or at least large loose fabrics for him to wrap himself in.

The warmth of the greenhouse hit him, he probably moaned in relief, he wouldn’t know, his ears were too clogged to hear himself.

He stumbled into the table, looking around with squinted eyes for something to cover himself with, there wasn’t a lot it seemed, the fabrics all connected to themselves, and lined against the wall, if he tried to take one out he would defiantly make them all crash tot eh floor, evie would defiantly kill him if he did that, and he'd rather not die so he kept looking around, before seeing a thick thread blanket.

He grabbed that, tossing it around his shoulders before looking for a spot to sleep in the muggy warm greenhouse.

He found a spot between the table and some fabric rolls, he squished himself into the corner, satisfied when he could no longer see the door, I cant see you, you cant see me.

He sucked the candy into his cheek, locking it between his teeth, he didn’t want to choke on it in the middle of the night.

He fell into a deep sleep, snoring lightly from his stuffed nose.

----

“y--I foun---he's in my work ro--yeah ill ask him-----(y/n) I have him---see you”

The bright light of the greenhouse made him wince, pulling the blanket over his eyes.

“Harry?” his mind went overdrive, he kicked out, hitting something hard, the person helped, he heard them hit the floor, he bolted up, his head screaming at him, his stomach cramping as well.

He slammed him back against the wall, still close to the table, he fumbled around, scissors, he grabbed those, holding them like a dagger towards the voice.

“holy shit harry what the fuck!!” he…he knew that voice, blinking away the darkness, he saw evie on the floor frowning up at him, wearily looking at the scissors, thin fear in her eyes.

“evie?” his mouth felt like cotton, his arm like lead, he let his arm drop, tilting his head at the blue-haired girl. She stood from the floor slowly, hold her hands out, as if he was a wild animal.

“are you okay?” he blinked, following her eyes, to the scissors at his side, he sniffed, placing them back on the table.

“I kicked yeh” he grumbled, his throat burned in retaliation, but he ignored it “’m sor’y”

“its okay” she said, but she still eyed him as if he’d dive for the scissors again, and that was such a different way shed had been looking at him, not with the warmth of a motherly sister, but a girl who was afraid he’d jump at her to kill her, made tears burn at his eyes.

Evie jumped slightly, the fear leaving her eyes to be replaced with concern. Which only made a tear streak down his face.

“Hey hey hey~” she shushed, stepping forward slightly “what's wrong?” like a worried mother hen she stepped in front of him, gripping his shoulder lightly.

He sniffed, a pout on his face, probably a really childish one, and let his head drop, away from Evie “I ‘ont feel good”

“I can tell” Evie mumbled, looking at his red face and seeing the sweat covering his body. She tugged harry slightly, away from the corner “come one (y/n) will be here soon to take care of you, let's get you into the living room” Harry nodded, evie said (y/n) would be here soon, that was good (y/n) was good. He let evie pull him away from the corner and letting most of his weight fall onto her, cuz if he tried to walk on his own he would topple over and probably pass out.

“what's wrong with him?” he heard Carlos, muffled from the stuff in his ears, question Evie as she guided him to the couch, she let him plop down, tutting when he started to tilt to the side.

“he's sick, probably from the rain, (y/n)’s on her way to pick him up. poor thing, harry?” he groaned opening his eyes, when did he close them? to look at evie, who leaned over him. “did you take anything last night?” he nodded, pointing over at the kitchen, flinching slightly when he felt dude lick his hand, he looked down at the mutt, dude was pushing his head into his palm, begging for pets, harry obliged.

He heard evie talking, but she was too far away for him to hear, he was also distracted by dude, who had lifted his upper body to meet Harry's hand halfway, letting harry scratch at his back.

“hey baby” harry started, opening his eyes to see (y/n) kneeling in front him, a soft smile on their face, brushing through his hair with their fingers, “evie told me you don’t feel too good”

Harry shook his head slightly, yes he didn’t feel good, now take care of me “na” he rasped, pushing his head into (y/n) hand, “rain go’ meh sick” (y/n) hummed, trailing down their hand from his scalp to his forehead, frowning as they felt his temperature.

“you’re really warm harry” they mumbled, cupping Harry's cheek, he swallowed whining as he felt the thorns at the back of his throat. (y/n) huffed as they heard Harry's reaction to his throat, they stood up, smiling down at him as he grasped their wrist

“don’ leave” he whimpered, curling slightly around dude, when did the mutt get on his chest? (y/n) let out a soft huff through their nose, leaning back down to kiss his forehead

“ill be right back hooky, just going to get something for your throat, and then im going to drive you home kay?” harry nodded, releasing her wrist and curling his arm around dude. The mutt shuffling to curl under his chin.

He scratched dude on the back for a minute, before (y/n) returned with a small cup in her hands, a thick liquid inside it, bright purple.

“harry drink this, and try to make it cover your throat” he took a shaky hand and grasped the cup, feeling satisfied when he didn’t drop it, he sat up slightly, disturbing dude, and tossed it back, the odd taste making him scrunch his face slightly, but swallowing it and letting it coat his throat.

“eug, wha’ was’ tha?” Harry stuck his tongue out a few times, trying to get the taste off.

“grape-flavored medicine, since you have the immune system of a 7-year-old, I thought this would work well enough to help start it.”

Harry nodded, still using his teeth to scrape the nasty taste of it of his tongue.

“come on” (y/n) smiled, taking his hands and tugging him “let's get you to the car, you need to go home and rest kay?”

Harry nodded, dude, hopping off his chest to rush to Carlos’ room, letting (y/n) pull him up and into them, wrapping their arms around his torso, calling for jay to get his other side.

It was a bit of a process but now he was in the backseat of Gils and (y/n)s car. Evie loading his now clean gear into the front seat, handing him his hook.

“get better harry”

He sniffed, letting himself side down slightly to get a better position, evie smiled, tossing the thread blanket over him, worried mother hen she was “here, you can keep this till you get over your illness”

“thanks’” he mumbled shuffling his shoulders to make sure it didn’t drop.

Evie smiled, and closed the door, waving as (y/n) started the car and drove off, harry slipping off to sleep in the back.

----

He woke up in his bed, feeling a rumbling at his neck, it was also fluffy, he shuffled, a midsized black and brown fat cat curled up in the crook of his neck, he swollen, scrunching his face in pain from his throat.

“good evening sleeping beauty~” (y/n) entered the room holding a tray with chicken soup, some sort of tea, and orange juice on it, softly smiling at harry as they set the tray down onto the nightstand next to Harry's bed.

They leaned over him, avoiding pipsqueak, placing their hand on his forehead, Harry moaned lightly, the cooler temperature of their hand feeling amazing.

“yeah you're still really warm” they mumbled, grabbing a thermometer and pressing it to his lips “open your mouth and lift your tongue” harry huffed but obeyed, (y/n) placing the stick in his mouth before leaning back and preparing his food.

They turned and snorted, there was the big bad harry hook, hair messy and his face red, a thermometer sticking out of his mouth and curled up in his blankets, and a fat fluffy cat purring away cuddling him.

“wha’ are yeh’ laughing about?” harry rasped, the pout on his face getting deeper as (y/n) started to snicker

“Nothing, just you look so cute~”

Harry scowled, flipping some of the blankets onto his head, shielding his face from (y/n)

“no am nae, im dangerous!”

That only made (y/n) giggle harder “of course!!! Dangerously cute~!”

“noooo”

---

(y/n) ended up taking a photo of harry asleep, blanket curled around him, mouth slightly open and pipsqueak curled against his chest. With the caption

‘sleepy sick pirate and his kitty’

It earned 50k likes within the hour

---the end---

[finalhxaven]

♫

Send 🎵 for a 5-10 song Playlist about our muses! (Still accepting)

oh just shut up, everyone, you KNOW this is my ship.

1. How Far We’ve Come by Matchbox Twenty One 

I sat down on the street and took a look at myself Said where you going man you know the world is headed for hell Say your goodbyes if you've got someone you can say goodbye to I believe the world is burning to the ground Oh well, I guess, we're gonna find out Let's see how far we've come Let's see how far we've come Well I, believe, it all, is coming to an end Oh well, I guess, we're gonna pretend, Let's see how far we've come Let's see how far we've come

End of the world kind of songs really vibe with these two characters, especially in an au where Zack survives to face Jenova and Meteor head on. There’s a sense of denial that has to come with facing the end of the world, and they have enough of it to go into battle for the sake of fighting for what they believe in. So long as it’s together, they don’t need to have a future. It’s about the here and now, and what they can do for each other in this very moment.

2. Tonight by Seether

Like sugar and cyanide These worlds are gonna collide I want to yell it from the rooftops down Until it's over, and we're older

Their chemistry is raw, it’s simple touches that turn into passionate kisses, and just a single word from one has the other reeling. An incredibly reactive couple belying their own internal struggles that they help one another cope with at the end of the day. But man is it like fireworks with their feelings.

3. We’ll Be Fine by Rebecca Ferguson

When you're lonely Don't be afraid, I'll keep your heart close to mine Lay safe in my arms Lay safe in my armsWhen I'm falling I won't stay down 'Cause I will hold you Lay safe in my arms Lay safe in my arms

They understand better than anyone how to survive by themselves. Many people believe Tifa and Zack respectively can handle anything, but tend to forget that they deserve someone to lean on too emotionally. Someone who can be their balance. So when they start a relationship, there’s tenderness in the way they each speak to one another. Reassurance. Kindness. 

Love.

4. Time Adventure (From Adventure Time)

'Cause you and I will always be back then You and I will always be back then You and I will always be back then You and I will always be back then That's why You and I will always be best friends

This one’s special because it gives a bittersweet taste. Both characters are fully aware that nothing lasts forever, but it’s the feelings that are strong enough to transcend time and do magnificent things. (Also this song is just for you Rain in particular uwu)

5. Kokoro (From Xenosaga)

My beating heart begins to race When I turn to see your face I remember that sweet dream which you told to me

I wanted just to be with you So we could make the dream come true And you smiled at me and that was the beginning

Tifa to Zack. All he had to do was plant the thought in her head. “A family. Maybe a house? We could grow our own food and...” That’s all it takes for her, really. This song in particular has a sad ending, and I did that on purpose because there’s always that reminder that Zack’s demise was upsetting in every way, someone with so much love to give and hope in his heart even despite being hardened, deserved much more.

6. Futuristic Imagination by School Food Punishment

Tonight if you listen Tonight if you try You're gonna finally find out why I can't hate you Tonight if you listen You might realize How many bridges I'd dare to burn To keep tonight

TIFA TO ZACK AND IT’S SO SCARY ACCURATE. Tifa is pretty extreme when it comes to love. So while she spent a majority of her energy denying her feelings, at some point it comes to a head that she needs to convey her feelings. And yes, would go to the end of the world for him. This is an english cover that puts her feelings together simplistic with a passionate vocal I think fits Tifa better, but the original japanese has more complexity in the lyrics that fit Tifa’s emotions towards Zack more accurately.

7. No Choir by Florence and The Machine

But the loneliness never left me I always took it with me But I can put it down in the pleasure of your company And there will be no grand choirs to sing No chorus will come in No ballad will be written It will be entirely forgotten And if tomorrow it's all over At least we had it for a moment Oh darling things seem so unstable But for a moment we were able to be still

Love doesn’t fix everything. If you have abandonment issues or depression, that won’t magically go away just by being in love. but Tifa to Zack? She believes in TRYING, even despite her own flaws. Maybe even because she isn’t perfect, that she wants to spend the rest of her life always working on it with him. And at the end of the day, all they want is something quiet and sweet together.

For Your Zack In Particular, Rain: 

1. Modern Age by Anberlin

There is so much left we have to lose here. The more we give away. You just will never keep the promise said. If all we hold is yesterday.

It’s cute to think that Zack has everything together, but the guy’s been through a lot. Just as much loss if not more due to the events in Crisis Core, to the point where morality is too grey for him. But what makes Zack so wonderful is that he continues forward with a path he carves for himself, no matter what the future leads. Yours is the kind to keep moving towards the future.

2.  INFINITY≠ZERO by Nano

Show me how (don't look away, it's a time the world could change) To go on (don't let it go, be the light to shine on) Even if unable to see, I clenched my true heart, Extended my hand, and thereafter.. INFINITY≠ZERO

At first I didn’t get the title of the song when I heard it, but it was only after a couple of listens that I got what it means. INFINITY≠ZERO is a philosophical denial that the only thing eternal is nothingness. And it really hits home with your Zack because even with facing so much dread that brought each First Class Soldier down, he continues to believe in something more. That this world isn’t made of ambiguity towards the end, but can be worth fighting for BECAUSE it can be beautiful. 

3. Battle Cry (From Empire)

And all of my fears... And all of my doubts... Are lacing their boots... And grabbing their guns... The war is on now... Oooh And they're marchin' in... OOOoooh... And they're marchin' in... OOOoooh... And they're marchin' in... Ooooo... I can hear the battle cry At war with my heart and mind

There are complexities in war that aren’t just battle scars. Zack is more than the triumphs he has and the demise he got, because he regularly faces emotional conflict within himself as he learns more and more about what ShinRa is about. His resolve is not absolute, because he must always continue to face himself in order to fight on. Your Zack in every thread we’ve ever had, continues to face these dilemmas with human emotions and responses. And I love that about him.

4. King/Ghost in a Song by Grabbitz

I'm gonna start doing things I think I should 'Cuz I wanna die knowing I did all I could Days and days of restless worry Will I ever change a thing? Leave my mark on endless stories I just want to go out like a king I just want to go out like a...

He’s a king and he’s dead and it’s not okay.

5. Wings by Birdy

Oh, lights go down In the moment we're lost and found And I just wanna be by your side If these wings could fly Oh, damn these walls In the moment we're ten feet tall And how you told me after it all We'd remember tonight For the rest of our lives

Shit wait this was supposed to be Tifa to Zack. I’m such a mess forgive meeeeee

6.Who Tells Your Story by The Roots (From The Hamilton Mixtape)

Memories divided by perception Will it be water for chocolate or resurrection? The path to perfection is rarely achieved I head in that direction, I dream and believe An underground dude that overachieve From the windy city I was blowing they eaves Somewhere along the way I aired out MCs (who lives who dies who tells your story) But to stand out some days you may freeze Degrees

He’s always been a man who thought about legacy. The idea placed as a small seed from Angeal, growing further until full fruition for Zack to pass the same seed unto Cloud. 

But the awareness of mortality is properly achieved in the au of him living, Rain. He grows, he learns, he realizes that in order to continue living you MUST acknowledge death will always be at the doorstep. And that is where he finds cherishing what is all around him so much more prominent in your writing than in the media of him showed. Everyone always thinks of the tragedy, but what of the philosophical dilemma of continuing to live?

@xaksu

[lukn4inspo]

The One Where Sam Winchester Thinks He’s Jessica Rabbit

Summary: A thin layer of witchy plot to hang some humor, romance, and smut on for sherrybaby14’s Fall Into You Challenge. My prompt was “I’m going to gut you like a fish.”

 Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

 Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut happens, informed consent is sexy, biting cuz I like that sh*t, oral and manual sex, bit of knife kink showing through, I probably got weird with verb tenses

 A/N: If anyone wants to send me a good Sam pic or gif for this, that’d be cool.

 Word Count: 4100ish

There’s something calming about sharpening a knife. The wind and the soft rattle of dry leaves outside the hotel providing counterpoint to the sharp song of blade over stone. Since you know you’re safe, in a protected room you’re sharing with two of the best hunters you know, you let your mind drift. There’s magic in these moments of in between, when you’re both focused on what’s in front of you and letting your mind wander at the same time. This is the mindset best for casting spells. It’s both familiar and comforting. So when your temporary roommates open the door you barely look up, acknowledging their presence but staying in the moment.

 Until 6 foot plus of Winchester lands in your lap. “Umm…” True, you were friends and it wasn’t unusual for you to lose track of time and end up talking into the wee hours between helping each other with cases, but you weren’t really this kind of close. As a matter of fact, you didn’t think Sam was this kind of close with anyone. Yet, here he was, thighs across your lap and tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Mm, Y/N, I missed you.” Then he fucking nuzzles your face.

 “Umm…” He’s lazily caressing your collarbone, his cheek resting on the other hand, and gazing at you softly. With a sly little smile, he stretches his arms above his head and arches his back which strains the buttons of his white shirt. Oh so tempting, and he knows it too, judging by the look in his eye.

 “Umm, Sam? What’s going on?”

 “I just missed you. We were wrapping things up at the courthouse and it hit me all of a sudden how much I wanted to see you.” He’s peeping up at you through his lashes. Quite a feat since you’re over a foot shorter than him. “You’ve been working hard, I can tell.” This while he strokes a finger down the blade of your favorite knife. Damn, he has elegant hands. They give you all kinds of dirty thoughts. “Need me to get you anything? Let me get you a drink.”

 Before you can stammer about water he’s out of your lap and sashaying to the refrigerator. You know you’re not imagining the extra sway in his hips. Then the cocky fucker looks over his shoulder at you when he bends over far more than necessary to get a drink from the fridge.

 “Dean, is he drunk or something? What the hell is going on?” Dean was still standing in front of the closed door, apparently just as stunned by his brother’s odd behavior as you.

 “I don’t know but it’s funny as hell.”

 “Sam, you don’t usually act this way. What’s going on?” He sits back across your lap and starts massaging your neck. Your eyes roll back in your head despite the little kissy faces he’s making at you.

 “Don’t ruin this for me, Y/N,” Dean says. “This is prime blackmail material right here.”

“We’re on a case. You know this is probably magic.”

 Dean snorts. “At least it’s fun magic. Hey, he didn’t start acting weird ‘til we got here. Maybe it’s you.”

 “I’ve been in the room all morning working the witch angle. That’s the reason you guys called me in on this one.” Sam murmured in your ear how that was just one of the reasons and something about you being his favorite witch before nibbling at your neck. “Uhh,” you shiver. “He said he wanted to leave the courthouse so he could see me. Maybe someone was trying to throw you guys off the trail.”

 “Oh yeah, right. There was kind of a weird incident before we left.” Dean was openly smirking at your discomfiture. “He got flowers.”

 “Flowers?” Sam seemed content with his effect on you so he kept assaulting your neck while you tried to talk to Dean.

 “Well, technically they were for me. But when a pissed-off biker looking dude shows up with a bouquet of flowers with your name on ‘em, you don’t accept. Looks unprofessional. So naturally, I told him Sam was me.”

 “You bastard,” Sam chimes in. “Those weren’t my flowers?” He grumbles for a minute but is soon distracted by playing with your hair and gazing at your mouth.

 “Uh, no, Casanova.”

 “A bouquet can be a good medium for a love spell. Where is it?”

 “Still at the courthouse. He tried to get me to smell ‘em so I tossed ‘em in the trash and told him to get in the car.”

 “Go grab it and hurry back.”

 “Yeah. It’s getting a little disturbing in here.” Sam had the tip of his finger between his teeth and was gazing at you seductively.

 “And don’t smell them!”

 As soon the door closed behind Dean, Sam said, “Oh, thank God. Now we can be alone.” He takes your hand with the forgotten knife and drags it up his thigh then abdomen then chest. “Y’know these suits get so uncomfortable. Wanna help me with that?”

 He slips your blade through the threads holding the top button to the shirt and gasps in faux surprise as it rolls away. He continues to lead your hand down to loose the next button and the next. It’s a little hypnotic watching the shirt open bit by bit. It takes 3 buttons before you realize you should probably stop him. You tug your hand away and sheathe the blade but he seems not to notice. Just leans close to whisper how sexy that was. How he’d often thought about you cutting off his clothes because it’s so hot how good you are with a knife. Of all the times for your favorite vibrator to be broken. The man of your wet dreams is draped over you, sleeves rolled up over muscular forearms, a long sliver of skin showing down his chest and abs, detailing sex fantasies he’s had of you, and you can’t do a damn thing about it because he seems to be under a spell.

 “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” He bites his lip and gazes up at you through heavy lids. All this time getting to know each other, hoping that the budding romance you’re feeling is on both sides, has left you vulnerable to the way his voice sometimes goes soft and warm when he says your name. So of course your answer is “huh?”

 But he’s not deterred. He leans forward and you struggle back. “Wait! Wait. I think I need to freshen up. You don’t mind to wait here for me, do you Sam?” He languidly crawls off your lap.

 “Whatever you want, baby. I’ll be right here.” He winks as you rush to the bathroom. It’s tempting to stay in there until Dean gets back but you know it would be irresponsible to leave Sam unsupervised under the influence of magic. So you wash your face, take some deep breaths, and come up with a plan to not take advantage of the very attractive and handsy person who cannot consent right now. It’s weird but the silliness of his actions causes you to let your guard down more. Gotta watch that.

 As soon as you open the door, he’s on his feet and getting as close to you as possible. “Woah, Sam. Can we…slow things down? I’m not really comfortable going this fast.” That’s a complete lie. If he were in his right mind and being this forward, you’d both be halfway to orgasms right now.

 He takes a step back and smiles softly. “Of course.” He takes your hand and leads you to the couch where he can tuck you under his arm and fucking cuddle you. You melt. Motherfucker. “Let’s talk about the case, hmm? Tell me what you’ve figured out. I know you were letting your mind wander over it when we came in.”

 “I don’t know. It’s really inconsistent. If it is some kind of magic user they’re not very good. The traces I’ve felt were spotty. If it were an object it would have a specific purpose but that’s not what we’re seeing. And even if it were wild, undirected magic like a place that holds power it would work via influence. What we’ve been seeing is too specific for that.” His big hand sliding up and down your back is really soothing and makes it easier to express yourself.

 “So you’re thinking amateur witch, then?”

 “Yeah, I guess so. Maybe one with a specific strong gift. Didn’t fully realize that until I told you, though.”

 He smiles and lifts your chin. “We do make a good team that way.” When he leans in to kiss you it feels completely natural. It’s warm and lightly teasing, like he’s savoring the feel and taste of your mouth. But when he pulls back and lowers his gaze his face goes still. “Y/N, are you seeing someone?” You know that voice. He’s being very careful not to sound sad. You don’t understand until you look down. Your shirt has slipped down revealing a dark purple bruise on your breast.

 “No. Not at all. I just…needed to be touched by someone who gives a shit about me.” Oddly enough, you feel like you’re about to cry but you swallow it down. It’s hard to find people you can be close with when you’re a witch and you can’t just tell Sam you hoped he would touch you like that. Not right now, at least.

 “Hey, you don’t owe me any explanations. And I know a woman like you has to have plenty of men wanting her attention. I just didn’t want to keep flirting if you were already involved with someone else. You know I’m not that kind of guy.”

 “Yeah, I know that. No, he and I aren’t involved. We’re friends with occasional benefits, emphasis on the friends part.”

 “I don’t see how he could settle for occasional with you.”

 “We just don’t fit romantically.” Sam nods and pulls you into his arms again. God, it would be easy to fall in love with this man when he’s sitting here holding you like you’re important. It’s a good thing he can’t see your face while you work through that. Love is a scary thing. Love with a hunter doubly so. Dean opening the door is a welcome distraction.

 You hop up and take the bouquet from him. It’s all in autumn colors, dark rusty reds and oranges and little accents of black, mostly wildflowers. The spell seems to be on the flowers but not coming from them. The witch didn’t know how to anchor it properly because the magic has already dissipated quite a bit. Still you strengthen your protections before taking a light sniff. Some of the ingredients are recognizable and you can tell it’s well made and expensive.

 You pluck the card. It reads ‘Be brave, shy guy. ---Sparkles’ in flowing cursive. At the very bottom of the card is a business name, Bethany’s Bouquets.

 “Definitely a potion but it’s a waste the way they used it. Whoever it is doesn’t know what they’re doing. Let’s go check out this florist and,” you check the card again, just to be sure, “Sparkles.”

 “Smart women are so hot,” Sam murmurs as he puts a hand on your waist. You can’t help but blush a bit at that one.

 “Let me take the lead, yeah?”

 “Hey, you’re the witch expert.” When you pile into the car Sam sits in the back with you and puts his arm around you again. He’s pretty well behaved, much more toned down since you asked him to go slower, but he stills untucks his shirt and opens it all the way with the excuse that he’s way too hot. Highly unlikely on a crisp October day, but whatever. You grin and shake your head. This’ll be over soon anyway.

 Dean follows you into the shop but Sam stays by the car since he’s ‘under the influence.’

 “Welcome to Bethany’s Bouquets!” greets a cheery voice from behind a counter. “Can I help you?”

 “Absolutely. You can tell me what makes your bouquets so special.” You put a hint of Power in your voice and watch her reaction closely but she shows no sign of understanding and no spark of Power in response, just puzzlement at your question.

 “Wellllll, as you can see we carry a wide array of flowers. Vibrant tropicals, soft English roses,” she indicates different sections of the store. “And seasonal arrangements.”

 “Yes, those. My friend received a seasonal bouquet from your shop today. Whatever substance was on it made him sick.”

 “What?! Oh, my goodness! Is he okay? We just mist the flowers with plain water before we send them out. Here. See? Nothing anyone should be allergic to.” She hands you a mister bottle from under the counter. You sniff it but you already know she’s not the one. You brushed her hand as you took the bottle and there was not a trace of magic on her.

 “Who else would have handled them?” asks Dean. He’s still in his suit and has his serious professional face on. He even pulls out the badge. “Cuz I’m not a big fan of people trying to drug my partner.” He waves toward the car where Sam is leaning back with his shirt open and face tipped to the sun, looking like a damn model.

 “Drugs?!” she screeches. “I don’t ---- but --- that doesn’t make any sense.”

 “Who’s Sparkles?” you ask firmly, taking advantage of her flustered state.

 “They didn’t do anything,” comes a voice from deeper in the store. Your hand goes to your knife and Dean’s to his gun. The guy steps around the corner. Sheepish is a funny expression on a weathered, bearded guy in a leather vest. “It’s okay, baby,” he puts his arm around Bethany’s shoulders and squeezes. “Bethany and Sparkles had nothing to do with it.” Bethany is shell-shocked but firms her jaw up quickly at that.

 “What did you do, Herbert?”

 Herbert? is surprisingly forthcoming. He got the potion secondhand. A friend of his saw how unhappy he was and passed on a potion she’d bought from a bruja, saying it changed her life. It was to help her go after what she wanted. Thing is, it was made specifically for her. So when Herbert used it on himself to court Bethany, she was surprised by how sensitive and ‘in touch with women’ he was. For them, it worked. But when he decided to share his good fortune with others by spraying it on the flowers, he wasn’t too careful about the instructions.

 Too big a dose inhaled from flowers made the magic hit hard and fast. So Tony, who liked to complain about not getting the promotion he worked so hard for (he didn’t actually work that hard or want it that bad) chased an ice cream truck into traffic because that’s what he really wanted at the time. Carla truly did want a family of her own…so she tried to buy her friend’s child, and when they wouldn’t sell, she tried to kidnap the baby instead. Mr. Burroughs, the English teacher who quit his job of 21 years in such a dramatic fashion that he was committed for a nervous breakdown, just wanted to feel appreciated. Mrs. Bailey, who they didn’t know about, was being divorced by her husband of 50 years because she wanted to spice up their love life. He caught her in their garage with a prostitute, in a very compromising and surprising position. You can only hope to be so flexible at that age. There were a few harmless cases mixed in, as well. Herbert’s generosity with his new power is what drew your attention initially. So many people in such a little town acting strange. Something was up. Sparkles’ order was the last ‘special’ one. He’d met ‘some guy who looked like a Ken doll’ that he was absolutely certain wanted him but was too shy to take a chance. Herbert strongly suggested he send flowers to the object of his affection.

 When he’s done telling his story, you hand him a little glass vial and demand some of his spit and hair. He sputters but you insist and Bethany hadn’t stopped glaring at him so he caves. You hold his gaze as you take the bottle and yank it back, using magic to pull his body forward to where your favorite knife waits in your other hand. You hold him immobile as you make a shallow slice in his neck and drip the blood off your blade into the bottle.

 “What are you going to do to make it right?” you ask softly.

 “I don’t know how.”

 “Seems the most believable option is to confess to drugging those people. That way they can get their lives back. And you’ll be responsible for Tony’s medical bills.”

 He lets out a big breath. “I can do that.”

 “Good. And Herbert? If you ever make me come back here, I’m going to gut you like a fish.” You clean your bloodied blade on his shirt and walk away, not releasing him until you are all in the car and on the road.

 Dean lets you and Sam have the room to yourselves so you can remove the spell on him and nullify the potion in the bottle without distractions. Sam makes sure to mention how proud he is that you figured it out and took care of the culprit.

 “Heart melting bastard,” you grouse. He frowns but sits still and quiet while you do your work. When you finally finish with the bottle you sigh and flop onto your back. It’s clear that Sam was released from the effects by the way he hops up to change his shirt and keeps clearing his throat.

 “Dean is never gonna let me live this down,” he sighs.

 “You could always threaten to give his number to Sparkles,” you say with a gleam in your eye. That definitely catches his attention. And when you tell him Sparkles said Dean looked like a Ken doll, he full on laughs. You fill him in on the rest of what happened so by the time you’re done he isn’t too embarrassed to look you in the eye anymore.

 “So, I feel like an idiot,” he says.

 “Yeah, me too.”

 “Why? I was the one acting foolish.”

 “I was the one drooling, though.”

 “I thought I was going too fast and you weren’t comfortable with that.”

 “Pfft, I just said that cuz I wasn’t about to take advantage of someone under the influence.” He stares at you for a moment before nodding.

 “Good to know. Will you come out with me tonight, then?”

 “Of course. Where to?” He beams.

 “You’ll see. Wear something cute and comfy.” Sam waves his brother into the room.

 “How you feeling there, Jessica Rabbit?”

 “Why don’t you ask Sparkles how he’s feeling, shy guy?”

 “…shuddup.”

 “I’ve got some things to do right now but find your own dinner tonight. Y/N and I have plans.” Dean catcalls him out the door then wiggles his eyebrows at you.

 A while later you’re on a soft, thick blanket having a picnic in a clearing surrounded by maples in all their fall glory. Any worries you’d had that things would be awkward have vanished. It’s like the amateur biker witch never happened and this date thing just occurred naturally. Afterward Sam drives you to another spot where there’s water tripping down a little stream so you can show him a bit of water magic you’ve been practicing.

 “That’s amazing!” he exclaims as the reflections on the surface interact with your touch as if they are the objects themselves. By the time it gets dark you find yourself leaning back against Sam who’s sitting on the hood of the car with his legs splayed around you. It’s just like those late night phone conversations you’ve had except you’re absently scratching patterns on his thighs while you talk and laugh. His chin is resting on your shoulder, one hand at your waist, and the other stroking back and forth above your knee.

 Eventually, you’re just sitting quietly together, enjoying the peace and the closeness. Your breath stops when you feel a warm press of lips against your vulnerable neck. Then there’s another higher up. And another. Your breath leaves with a little sigh. You turn your head and watch his lips drift toward yours and sink into you. Light, sweet flavor of peaches on your tongue from earlier. The small noises you make seem to urge him on and he intensifies the connection, squeezing higher up your thigh under your skirt seeking deeper in your mouth with his tongue. Then he leaves your mouth for your neck again, kissing that tender spot in front of your ear on the way. One hand is now under your shirt stroking your belly and the other is slowly working up to the crease of your thigh.

 “Tease,” you breathe.

 “Oh? Is there something you need?” You roll your hips back against him and he groans quietly.

 “Nah. You?”

 “Mmmmm,” he replies but his fingers have reached the seam of your panties and now he’s pushing under them, pressing his fingertips through your warm, wet lips. You drop your head back onto his shoulder and just enjoy the feeling of him around you. Firm heat behind you, hand squeezing your breast and flirting with the top of your bra, the slow push so his fingers are all the way inside your pussy and the heel of his hand presses into your clit. You moan and buck forward but he pulls you back hard to his chest grinds his hard dick into your soft ass. Then he grips your right leg and pulls it across his, leaving you standing on one foot with your legs spread. “Yeah, baby. Open up for me.”

 When he pushes his fingers back in he gets deeper. His hand has gotten slippery from alternately finger fucking you and grinding over your clit. It’s so deep you can’t help but squirm but he keeps holding you to him with his left arm across your chest, hand resting over your heart. He’s murmuring quietly but you can’t tell what he’s saying. The fact that he doesn’t seem to realize he’s doing it is ridiculously hot.

 “Fuck, Sam! Bite me!” He does so without hesitation and you come hard. Before you can gather your wits he flips you onto your back on the hood of the car and cuts clean through the crotch of your panties with a knife he produced from who knows where. He buries his face between your legs like he’s been holding it back this whole time and you come again all over his mouth.

 He’s panting when he lifts you up for a kiss. “Need to get you in a bed. Need you to touch me.” You’re past words at this point so you just slide a hand down his pants into his boxers and wrap your fingers around his warm, hard cock. “Ah!” He jerks as you lightly drag them up, around the head, down, over his balls. He can’t seem to get his pants down fast enough but when he sees your hand on him for the first time he groans and presses a hard, desperate kiss into your mouth. He rests his forehead against yours and watches, hissing and sighing at the way you touch him. Before long his noises are getting louder and deeper and he wraps his hand around yours. He jacks the tip of his cock hard and fast with your hand and comes with your name in his mouth. It makes your whole body shiver.

 Once he’s calmed down enough he produces the knife again and cuts your panties off so he can use them to clean your hands. Then you’re wrapped up in his arms and held close, like you’re someone to be treasured. It makes you feel a little stunned and a little heartsore, but in a good way.

 “This is it. This is what I wanted. Just like this.”

 “What?”

 “Just to be close to you. No barriers, no case in the way. Just me and you. I want it all the time, actually.” You bury your face in his neck where his collar and his hair hold his scent the strongest. It feels safe here.

 “Sam,” you breathe against his skin. And he understands it for the yes that it is.

@sherrybaby14

[cobwebsaint]

BLEASE DO THE SPIT FIC

AHHHH YES alright obligatory NSFW warning and link to the original if anybody is compelled to leave some sweet kudos or a comment or anything. The garbage stays under the cut for the sake of your eyeballs and your dash.

[Before we even get into the meat of this mf let it be known I was BULLIED into participating in the Slipknot body fluids garbage trend and I still hate it but god was it all downhill from there. Y’all know who you are. Bitch.]

Corey really did have a hard fucking time shutting up, and it almost always got him in some level of shit. After getting the shit kicked out of him at bars and parties and shows approximately three trillion times, you would have thought he’d learned his lesson. 

He did not. 

[I have never spoken a word that was not true. The Corey Taylor gremlin is just an obnoxious big mouthed creecher. He cannot help thise.]

The man had no off button. He knew it, everybody else knew it— it was just something they all had to live with. Jim especially. Jim signed on for this bullshit every single day.

That was his own fault.

[Ah yes, the birthplace of what is now known as the domestic nightmares AU. I promise I’m actually gonna write it. I have a whole sandbox doc. But point is they’re stupid and they’re gross and they’re boyfriends.]

He was off on some godforsaken tangent again about nothing in particular, which Jim had tuned out a good ten minutes ago. Sometimes he felt a little bad about how easy it’d become to turn Corey to white noise, but then he caught something about what Ted Bundy did right or pounding back all the Kool-Aid at Jonestown (“It’s Flavor-Aid, James.”) and decided it wasn’t such a terrible thing after all. Some things were just better left alone. Letting Corey babble while Jim mindlessly twisted his fingers through his curls was a pretty good option in Jim’s book.

Of course, that was all up until Corey inevitably realized he was being ignored and made it a point to get the spotlight back. 

[In which Jim shares the same emotion towards Corey and his Sagittarius center of attention disease as the rest of us.]

Jim shifted away from the finger that was jabbing him hard in the ribs, pulling a face and looking down at Corey who had propped himself up on his chin, laying on Jim’s stomach. “What’d I do this time? Jesus.”

“You better be thinkin’ about something real fuckin’ important.” 

[Bold of him to assume Jim is experiencing thoughts at all tbh.]

“Oh yeah. Daydreaming about the day you’re finally able to sit and shut up for more than ten seconds.”

[Aren’t we all.]

Corey narrowed his eyes, punching Jim in the side, satisfied with the “Ow!” he earned in response. “You fuckin’ prick. You don’t get to complain.”

“I get to complain the most. Nobody else sitting here listening to you talk about the logistics of having a conjoined twin, y’know. I’ve earned that right fair and square, dude.”

“What, you’re telling me you haven’t thought about how you’d—”

“No.”

“Bullshit.”

[Just in case you were wondering, (you probably weren’t) the gremlin is thinking about how you’d fuck with a conjoined twin.]

Jim rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he still couldn’t hide the dumb little smirk that wanted to tug at the corners of his lips. “God, what the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Corey started up again and Jim immediately cut him off, reaching over to clap a hand over his mouth. “Ah! Don’t. Just. Shut up.”

[Jim: asks that question

Corey: starts telling his entire life story for the sixtieth time that week]

Corey batted Jim’s hand away, pushed himself up, crawling in close enough to swing a leg over Jim, straddling his hips. He leaned in, probably half a millimeter from Jim’s face, hands planted at either side of his head, curls cascading down around him. He was still pretty even when he was being a bastard and it was total bullshit. 

[You’re just mad your dick won’t you stay mad at him, James.]

“Make me.” 

Jim snorted a laugh. “Just say you want me to choke you out and be done with it.”

“Nah, that’s you. ‘Sit on my dick and strangle me, it’ll be great.”

“Don’t make me out to be the fuckin’ pervert when you’re the one begging me to step on your balls,” Jim retorted, barely even batting an eye. 

Corey sat up a little, leering down at Jim and running his tongue over his teeth. Eventually he just resigned to it. “Fair. But you’re still gross.”

[Points were made. There ain’t no winning here lbr.]

“Mhm. Right.” Jim reached up, threading a hand messy through Corey’s hair to bring him into a kiss. “You done bitching yet? Can I go back to only kinda hearing the crazy shit that comes out of your mouth again?”

“Hell no,” he said, shaking his head for that extra touch of dramatic emphasis. “Do you even know who you’re talking to? If you weren’t the size of a goddamn skyscraper I’d swear you just crawled out of whatever pit you came from.”

“Maybe I’m dumb, but I’m not that dumb. The great big mouth will never be silenced.” Jim giggled, bringing a knee up to knock Corey over beside him. He rolled over, pinning him down instead. “Y’know, except maybe when you’ve got a dick shoved in your face. Still making noise, but at least you’re not fuckin’ talking.”

Corey got a look on his face like he’d just reinvented the wheel, squinting his eyes up in a shit-eating grin, and Kill Bill sirens started going off in Jim’s head. No. Nope. We are under attack. This couldn’t be anything good. 

“Okay, but just consider— AND HEAR ME OUT, OKAY?” Corey cut in, watching the idea of interrupting him again flicker through Jim’s head. “What about two dicks? I bet I could fit two dicks in my mouth.”

Well. Huh. Maybe that did have Jim some sort of interested. He sat back a little, looking Corey up and down. “…You have my attention.”

“Listen, I know this chick and—” 

Jim had to laugh, ‘cause Corey thinking he was actually gonna share had to be the funniest goddamn thing to happen to him all week. He didn’t consider himself the jealous type. Maybe a little possessive sometimes. But he had to keep a tight leash on Corey Todd “Himbo” Taylor. Him being certified Awful was what got them into this mess in the first place. Jim just had a bad habit of catching feelings. Whatever, clearly Corey was more than okay with it.

[Yes I did use the word himbo in this fic and no I do not accept criticism. Also a bit of lore is that Corey essentially annoyed the absolute dick out of Jim until he was about ready to commit a murder all as an elaborate plan to get a date.]

“Nope, try that again.”

“Alright, what about Mick or—”

“Is that supposed to be better?” 

Corey groaned, punching Jim in the shoulder. “Why you gotta ruin all the fun? Can’t a dude get his face fucked and not get a bunch of shit for it?”

“Never said you couldn’t,” Jim mused. “But if you think I’m gonna let anybody else have that kind of satisfaction, you’re dead wrong dude. I’m the only one around here who deserves it. Take it or leave it.” 

Corey cocked his head to the side, staring Jim down like he was supposed to take him seriously. Like Jim didn’t already know the answer. Like he didn’t know that Corey was physically incapable of turning down the chance to get his shit rocked, whether it happened the way he wanted it to or not. 

“Fuck you. Fine.”

[Okay so this WHOLE FIC was deadass prompted by that stupid fucking picture of Corey with his fist shoved in his mouth skdjfg. So I was talking to Marina and I was like. Y’know. I bet he could fit two dicks in there. And I just kinda went buck wild. Jim was supposed to split the little bastard’s lips and shove a dildo in there too but that. Did not happen. Maybe someday.]

Content, Jim rolled off of him, got to his feet, and made a ‘well?’ gesture. Corey didn’t move, instead shooting him a look. A challenge.

Still playing that game. Alright.

Jim reached down, twisting Corey’s hair around his fist and dragging him towards the edge of the bed. “Really gonna be stubborn when you’re the one who’s begging for it?” 

“You want it all for yourself, you’re gonna have to work for it.” 

[Sir that is not how this works.]

Smug little fucker. Corey had put him through the same act at least a billion times now but somehow he still managed to find a way to get Jim to want to smack the ego right out of him. 

Corey slipped off the bed, knees buckling without (a ton of) struggle when Jim pushed him towards the floor. He tilted Corey’s head back, getting a firm grip on his jaw. 

“How you manage to be so cute while being such a pain in the ass still fuckin’ blows my mind, y’know.”

A giggle bubbled up in Corey’s chest. He strained against the hand in his hair, trying to wriggle his way out of Jim’s hold. He knew it wasn’t gonna happen, but hey— couple fingerprint shaped bruises never hurt anyone. 

[I didn’t realize how weird the wording here was until after I posted it ngl. Like. He’s angling Corey’s head back by pulling his hair and holding him there by holding his jaw. Just. To clear that up. I’ve been obsessing over this one little line for months cuz it’s a little weird but I Am Not Changing It.]

“You love it. Wouldn’t have put up with me this long if you didn’t. It’s okay, Peach. You can admit I’m hot shit.”

“Shut up, would you?” Jim tugged back, drawing a surprised noise out of Corey that only served to melt back into a laugh. “Jesus.”

“Come on, don’t be so touchy. I’m right.” Corey slid a hand up the inside of Jim’s thigh, pressing his palm into him and grabbing his already half-hard cock through his sweats. “If I’m not, then explain this away. Pavlov ain’t got shit on me.”

Nah. Nope. That was more than enough out of him. Jim wrenched Corey’s hand away, taking his hands off him just long enough to shove his sweats and boxers down and free his cock. “Open. And hands to your fuckin’ self.”

[SEE HE JUST MAD HIS DICK ENTERS THE CHAT EVERY TIME COREY’S BEING A LITTLE BITCH.]

Thankfully, that was the one thing that Corey didn’t try and fight. He leaned his head back, opened his mouth, and locked his gaze with Jim’s. Stupid pretty blue eyes practically sparkling, knowing damn well he got Jim good. Fuck. Asshole couldn’t turn it off for a second, could he? 

Jim grabbed him, holding him in place as he guided his dick into his mouth. Warm and wet and fucking perfect as always. This little shit was gonna give him a heart attack some day, he just knew it. 

He started off slow, watching Corey melt into it. Eyes fluttering shut, cheeks hollowing out around him, hands clasped behind his back. Tongue laving expertly around the head of Jim’s cock like it was second nature. Hot shit was a stretch, but hot was a different story. 

“Fuck yeah, that’s good,” Jim groaned, hand anchored on the back of Corey’s head as he rolled his hips into his mouth. “All bark and no bite. Think it would be easier to just say you wanna get used like a toy. Least you’re good at it.”

Corey made a pleased noise, leaning into it, taking Jim’s length deeper. He opened his eyes again, looking up at Jim through his lashes and whining softly. A plea for more. More ‘cause he was a greedy little bastard. 

Jim took the cue, snapping his hips forward, tightening his grip. He heard Corey sputter around him a bit, which only served as further encouragement. He fucked into his mouth in quick, deep thrusts, Corey practically going limp before him. The heat, the way Corey pressed his tongue against the underside of his cock, face contorting a bit every time Jim’s dick hit the back of his throat. Jim was already wrapped tight around the axel but god, it was too pretty of a sight to give up this early in the game. 

Even if it was giving Corey exactly what he was trying for— a happy Corey was a quiet Corey.

Or quieter.

[Ha.]

When Jim let up to let Corey catch his breath, he probably lost about half his brain cell count. Drool running down his chin, lips pink and swollen, crystal eyes brimming with tears— Corey looked practically ethereal. Like, fuck wings and halos. This was as close to angelic as someone could get and Jim fucking loved it. Shit. 

[He do be pretty tho. Also idk where the sudden religious imagery came from but like. I sure did stick with it huh. Whatever it works.]

Jim dragged his thumb over Corey’s bottom lip, breaking strings of spit that connected with his cock. He hooked his thumb under Corey’s chin, slipping two long fingers in his mouth and pressing down on his tongue. 

Corey closed around them, running his tongue between them before bobbing his head and taking them deeper. He moaned around the digits, shifting on his knees a little like he wanted to buck his hips into something that wasn’t there.

Satisfied, Jim retracted his fingers, rubbing them over Corey’s lips and chin and smearing spit across his face while he caught his breath. Jesus fucking Christ. He was feeling more and more like a ticking time bomb by the minute here, and Corey’s stupid obnoxious pretty blissed out face was doing him no favors. 

[At this point I was like. Hmmm. How many different ways can I ruin this stupid little rat’s entire career. This is really just the everything but the kitchen sink fic.]

No matter how good and perfect and fucked up and fucking slutty he looked down on his knees, taking whatever he was given, that didn’t change a damn thing. He was still the same terrible little demon that Jim knew and loved for some godforsaken reason. 

[THEY’RE IN LOVE!!!]

“‘S that it?” he rasped out, in between heavy breaths he knew he was gonna need to savor.

Nevermind. Jim was gonna kill him. Like, absolutely decimate him. 

[I WANT THAT TWINK OBLITERATED]

He thrust back into Corey’s mouth, finding the same fast pace as before. Haphazardly pulling Corey into it, meeting every rut of hips, making him struggle more this time around. Jim watched him squirm, nails biting into his wrists, but they stayed where they were locked behind his back. 

This was that sweet spot, where Corey felt filthy and used and amazing all wrapped up into one. Sure, he could ask for it, but it wouldn’t be nearly as fun. All the back and forth was part of the game that made the end goal that much sweeter. And yes, he was terrible and loved every minute of bugging the shit out of Jim until he finally snapped. It got him the attention, didn’t it?

[I started to veer off into this sort of perspective shift thing and I didn’t know how I felt about it while I was writing it but honestly I really like how it made the story flow.]

He was worlds away for a while, reduced to nothing more than a hole to be filled while Jim fucked his face. All moans and sloppy wet sounds, soaking up every little sensation— stingy pain of his hair being pulled, jaw starting to ache, cock fucking throbbing and leaking a wet spot into his boxers every time he got the least bit of friction. Jim thought Corey was an angel and this was most definitely heaven. 

Of course, Corey only stayed on cloud nine for so long. Jim hit the back of his throat again, holding him there this time. He only gagged a little at first, tears spilling over onto his cheeks. Corey’s eyes shot open and he whimpered around him, but Jim stayed put.

The second wave was worse, and he finally had to unclasp his hands and bring them up to grip onto Jim’s hips— his sign to let up.

Jim let go and pulled back just in time for a full body wretch to hit Corey. He doubled over, bracing himself on his hands, thick, stringy deepthroat spit dripping from his mouth. He hung his head, breathing hard, and Jim felt his cock twitch. 

[Don’t @ me I had just been subjected to not one but SEVERAL puke fics and I was feeling an emotion okay.]

“Oh fuck me,” Jim said out loud, because Jim was a gross horny fool. 

He knelt down, laying his hand against Corey’s cheek, making him lift his head again. He looked positively ruined. Eyes red, cheeks tear stained, whole mouth wet and well used, the front of his shirt starting to go sheer from all the drool. God, all Jim wanted to do was kiss him.

“Good?” Jim asked, and Corey gave a weak nod. Jim moved in a little closer. “Hey, talk to me. You okay? Need to stop?”

“Yeah, ‘m good,” Corey sighed, leaning his forehead against Jim’s. “Don’t wanna stop, no. Was into it, trust me.” He let go of a gravelly laugh, “Just gimme a minute.”

Jim nodded his head, running his thumb along the curve of Corey’s jaw. “Fuckin’ pretty, y’know.”

[Oh no they’re sweet.]

“Peach?”

“Mmm?”

“Shut up. Don’t just look at me like that. You look dumb.”

[Nvm.]

Jim rolled his eyes, “You shut up.” He curled his hand around the back of Corey’s neck and closed what little gap was left between them with a kiss. He tasted like cigarettes and salt and skin and it made Jim’s head spin and his stomach do backflips. Which I mean, was definitely due in part to the fact that his dick was cocked and ready to blow like a shotgun straight through the wall next to him. But Corey— the feel of his skin and the taste on his tongue and his weight on top of Jim when he was being dumb and pretty and needy and refusing to be anything less than the center of attention— well, that never helped Jim’s case. 

Soft little whimpers from Corey were muffled into Jim’s mouth, hands sliding around his broad frame and hiking his shirt up so Corey could trace over the curve of Jim’s spine. Little bit of contact, closeness that was lost when it wasn’t Jim balls deep inside of him. This was okay though. More than okay, fucking fantastic. Good to the point that Corey didn’t even try and fight when Jim pulled away. Especially not when he tugged his head back, making him look up at the ceiling as he licked a stripe from the very bottom of his chin, back to his lips. He kissed him again, like he needed to be attached at the mouth to survive, tongue easily gaining entry into Corey’s mouth and pulling more throaty moans from him. 

[Jk they’re still gross and in love.]

It was over all too quickly, Corey making a sound in protest as Jim pulled away from him and rose to his feet again. Jim yanked his head back, catching his lower lip with his thumb, mouth falling open once more. Before the thought even had the chance of passing through Corey’s mind of what the hell— Jim was bent over him, holding him in place as he spit into his mouth. Or rather back into his mouth. 

Oh. Shit. Alright. 

[Again, everything but the kitchen sink here boys.]

Several emotions flashed across Corey’s face before he settled in at acceptance, staring up at Jim with big, glazed over eyes as he towered over him.

“You want more?”

Corey nodded a very enthusiastic yes.

“Gonna be a good boy for me?”

That was met with some hesitation, knit brows and a shrug of the shoulders like he was weighing his options. Jim just shook his head. “If you’re gonna be a shit, then you can do it your damn self now. Prove you deserve it.”

Corey shot him a look, but he didn’t exactly try and argue. Wouldn’t be the first time he sucked a dick to make a point. Definitely not the last either. He sat up on his knees, wrapping his hand around Jim’s length, working him in slow, even strokes as he teased his tongue over the head. Jim about had an aneurysm from the looks of it and Corey couldn’t help but giggle. 

Jim knocked his knuckles against the side of Corey’s face. Not hard enough to hurt, but still enough to make him knock it the fuck off.

Stupid slut. 

[This still makes me giggle. Like you bap a fucking cat on the nose dksgdfj.]

Sucking the tip of Jim’s dick into his mouth, Corey gave a contented hum. He bobbed his head up and down, keeping pace with his hand, Jim lazily tracing his fingertips over the stubble on his cheeks. He mumbled a string of praise— ‘fuck yeah, baby’ and ‘so fucking good’ and ‘shit, just like that.’ Caught up and fucked up all over again. Corey Taylor was a bastard and Jim wasn’t about to give him up for a goddamn thing. 

Corey pulled off of him with a filthy ‘pop,’ wasting little time between then and ducking his head down to tongue at Jim’s balls. For what had to be the billionth time in the past ten minutes, Jim was briefly convinced he was going to leave this earth entirely. It was all he could do, to watch dumbly as Corey worked from left to right, sucking and moaning and swirling his tongue in just the right way to make Jim’s dick visibly twitch in his hand 

“Jesus fuck, baby.”

Jesus fuck, indeed. He was already seeing stars and he still hadn’t come yet. Here he was, giving the incentive of more when his knees were about to buckle. Who’s the jackass now?

[Me: writing oral sucks it’s always awkward and repetitive

Also me: stretches the oral to 5k]

Jim’s head fell back as Corey worked his way back up his length, running his tongue along the underside of it before damn near hilting him on his first try. He choked a little, pulling back to center himself before he tried again. Obscene sounds and lascivious moans filled the air, Jim’s eyes squeezed shut as he focused on the heat burning in the pit of his stomach. All he needed was a minute or two and to watch Corey’s eyes roll back in his skull to be pulled taut and ready to snap at any second. 

“Fuck me, I’m so close. Come on baby, don’t stop. Know you want it too.” Jim’s hand had found its way to the back of Corey’s head again, forcing him further down, finding that perfect rhythm again. Call it a sign of encouragement. Or something. 

Yeah, encouragement.  

Corey worked him as hard as he could, sucking and licking and slurping and swallowing him whole until the vibrations from one final groan around Jim’s cock brought all these sensations to a crescendo. Jim held him down as he came hard, spilling down his throat, swearing and gritting his teeth. Corey nursed him through, sucking him slow as Jim’s arms and legs turned to jello. Watching through his lashes as he tensed and moaned, breathing in sharp, ragged inhales until he finally had to shove Corey away ‘cause shit. 

Jim sighed heavily, pushing his hair back and out of his face, staring down at the stupid cocky look on Corey’s face. Were he able to form a coherent thought, he would have taken his ego down a notch— unfortunately, mentally he was still somewhere off in orbit. Without being entirely aware of his own actions, Jim was grabbing Corey by the collar and getting him back up off his knees. He shoved his hands underneath the hem of his shirt, fingertips studying inches of skin, the hair on his stomach, sides damp with sweat, every bump and imperfection before finally pulling the ratty spit-soaked tee over his head. 

[And to your left, you see Service Top Brain immediately taking control the second Jim no longer has enough brain cells to resist it.]

He pulled Corey to him, hands on his waist as he backed up to the bed, knees giving way when they hit the edge of the mattress. Jim hit the bed and laid back, bringing Corey down with him and directly into a kiss. Strong arms circled around Corey’s frame, bodies pressed snug, mouths melded together as one. Whatever post-nut trance Jim was in, it was perfectly fine by Corey. This was close and safe and comfortable and I mean, with the way Jim was rocking him against his stomach, you weren’t gonna hear much more than the sound of his brain cells popping like balloons ‘cause his dick was taking up all the blood flow. 

[They may be stupid but you gotta admit. They are pretty tender too.]

A high pitched whine that (it was safe to assume) was supposed words fell from Corey’s lips as Jim’s connected with the center of his chest. He had pulled away panting, working his way down— mouthing at Corey’s jaw, nipping at his earlobe, leaving a trail of hickeys down his neck. Maybe it had caught Corey off guard a little, not getting told off for being a shit and all, but any and all attention was welcome here with open arms. 

“Fuck, Jim c’mon,” he barely managed to gasp out. Forming sentences wasn’t about to be the first to go. He had a reputation to uphold here. “Better not start messin’ with me now.”

Teeth clinked against metal, Jim tugging on the ring through his right nipple and ripping all the thoughts straight from his brain for a moment. He swirled his tongue over the hardening flesh before biting down. Corey shivered and bit back a moan, pain radiating through him and twisting up in his gut. Like he wasn’t already prepared to implode as is. “Mother fucking Mary. Now you’re just making it a point to be a dick. Nobody likes a tease, Peach.”

[Also calling Jim peach is Corey’s thing in this universe. It’s gross. And soft. They’re the worst.]

Nothing. Not even an upwards glance. 

Corey wanted to scream. He wanted to slam his fist down on the bed, call Jim some new variant on ‘cunt,’ fight back, take control. But he also really didn’t want this to stop. He was so hard it fucking hurt and Jim had him right in the palm of his hand where he could barely keep his head straight and honestly? He was perfectly fine sitting right there. He was probably just missing some cue. Off by a beat and too whiny and stubborn to realize it. (Which he was. Corey never claimed to be smart. Especially not when his lizard brain was kicked into overdrive and all he could think about was getting split in half.) 

[He’s so STUPID. God. Bratty ass dumbass.]

While the idea was pretty appealing, he couldn’t even begin to collect the agency he’d need for any of that anyway. There was now a hand dangerously high up on his thigh, thumb tracing line where it met his hip, and there was no goddamn way he was gonna be able to focus on anything else. 

So Jim still did want him dead. Cool. 

“God baby, what do you want?” Corey whined, raking his nails over Jim’s chest, watching red marks appear in their wake. “I wasn’t even that bad. Did everything you wanted, barely even gave you shit. What, you want me to get you off again? ‘Cause I can do that. I’ll gladly do that if it gets you to quit fucking dragging me along. I’ll do all the work and fuck you myself if I gotta. Could smash my face into a wall and call me a soul sucking whore for all I care. Jesus Christ, just give me more.”

[YOU’RE SO CLOSE YET SO FAR BUD.]

Jim’s fingertips dipped into the elastic of Corey’s boxers, dragging across the front between his hips, just barely brushing against his cock before the waistband snapped back against his skin. Corey yelped, heels of his palms digging into Jim’s collarbones. He had no doubt Jim was thoroughly enjoying this, but the joke wasn’t all that funny anymore. Wasn’t very funny to begin with, actually. 

“Fuck me, Peach please. Please, I’ll do fucking anything. Just quit doing that.”

Suddenly Corey’s back was against the sheets again, Jim sliding back off the bed to tear his boxers down and toss them in some vague direction (he was only really going for away.) He nudged Corey’s legs apart and kneed back up between them, fingers curling around his cock. Corey’s hips immediately jerked up into the contact and he let out a hiss. Good god, he was so fucking sensitive he wanted to die. He made a noise that sounded more like a sob than anything, grabbing at Jim’s wrist. If he stopped he was going to scream but if he kept it up Corey was about to be launched into space and land on fucking Neptune. 

“Was that really so hard?” Jim questioned, and yeah. Maybe it was. Getting Corey to ask nice instead of being a colossal brat was like pulling teeth from an alligator. Fortunately for Jim, he was currently on a one way flight to the next realm. It was a little harder to keep all that up in the moment. 

Another “please” was all Corey managed— clearly asking for something else, something more— but Jim couldn’t just let him have that. 

“See, now you’re getting the hang of it!”

[Jim: See I can be an asshole too]

Corey snaked his arms around Jim’s neck, pulling him down to eye level. “Is it your goal in life to be a giant fucking pain in the ass?”

[Yes. That and buy a bike.]

“As much as it is yours, baby.” Jim laughed, nuzzling against Corey’s cheek. He mouthed little kisses against his jaw, slowly stroking him, pulling a frustrated growl from somewhere deep in his chest. 

He clawed at Jim’s shoulders, threading his hand through Jim’s hair and tugging back hard. More than anything, he was just trying to keep himself some semblance of centered. It wasn’t working very well. “Fucking hell. More, give me more. Give me your hands.”

Jim lifted his gaze, meeting Corey’s eyes, staring at him blankly. 

“Please.”

The grip around Corey’s cock let up and he groaned again at the loss of friction. It was gonna take next to nothing to make him fall apart. Callused fingers fingers slip up his torso and caught on his bottom lip, still kissed and swollen. “I’ll do that for you, but you might have to remind me how you earned it.”

Corey barely let him finish before he had his lips wrapped around two digits, working his tongue along them. He held onto Jim’s wrist, forcing them back and making himself gag hard. At this point, he didn’t care what it took. Besides, it was either keep his mouth busy or run it anyway. He flashed a look back up at Jim, batting his lashes and making sure to give him a little show before finally pulling off and kissing his fingertips. Is that wasn’t enough, then he didn’t know what the fuck would be.

And thank fucking buddha Jim’s mouth was enveloping his own just a moment later, one of his thighs being pushed back for a better angle and some leverage as Jim’s other hand slid between his legs. Slick fingers pressed against his entrance, drawing a pathetic noise from his throat, his legs twitching in eager anticipation. 

The first eased in, sunk home, and Corey could have sworn he saw the light in that moment. Glitter and gold and pearly gates, fluffy white clouds, and giant fucking bearpaw hands that were holding his entire fucking being in their palms. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to that— Jim being that big. I mean sure, his dick alone could take out a whole city easily, but it was all of him. Limbs and chest and hips and hands. Oh good god, his hands. Say what you want about how dumb and awkward he was otherwise, but he always knew exactly what he was doing with his hands. 

[HE DO BE LANKY AND AWKWARD. Also I still can’t help but think of how weird his hands are. Like they’re so SMALL in proportion to the rest of him but they’re still HUGE. James what the fuck is that shit.]

 Corey moaned into the mouth locked with his own as Jim started to pump in and out of him, the stretch nearly impossible feeling for just one finger. Maybe it was that he was already desperate, ready to burst, that had him so beyond himself. Maybe it was just the fact that Jim knew exactly how to poke and prod to make him start to come apart at the seams. 

He started to relax more, lean into it (or as best as he could with the weight on top of him.) Steady chants of ‘yes, yes, yes, more, fuck’ swarmed around whatever little bubble they’d been encapsulated in. Corey practically had Jim in a chokehold, holding him down as close as he could possibly get, foreheads pressed together. Completely and totally consumed. 

Another finger worked inside him, curling and twisting and scissoring him open, making him flutter around them and writhe to find just the right— 

“There, there. Don’t you dare stop. Holy shit.” Corey cried out, arching up off the mattress, holding onto Jim for dear life. “So fucking good. Feels so fucking good.”

Jim brushed his fingertips against Corey’s walls again, hitting that sweet spot and eliciting another borderline embarrassing moan. “Yeah, that’s it. Not so tough like this, are you? Fight so hard to get what you want and you still come undone for me just the same. Real good when you want to be, y’know.”

Whatever Corey wanted to say came out in an incoherent mumble— something something for you and something something damn lucky. His orgasm was already twisting and burning in the pit of his stomach, and his was still only very loosely tied to this realm. Beyond taken and fucked up and he loved every minute of it. 

[Fighting to the very end, even with fingers in his ass. Just shut up already you stupid slut.]

He couldn’t take his eyes off Jim as he wormed his way out of his grasp, sat back, spread his legs a little wider apart. He leaned down, and Corey was vaguely aware of him spitting before he felt like he was being properly split in two. A third digit joined the other two. God, it was almost too much. Impossibly full and tight and overwhelming, all thanks to James and his inhumanely big hands that were surely going to be Corey’s cause of death here one of these days. 

Corey couldn’t even breathe now, squeaking out another little plea for more, honed in on Jim like a deer in headlights. He knotted his hands up in the sheets, finally able to roll his hips and fuck himself against Jim’s hand without him pinning him in place. The blood rushing through his ears still wasn’t quite loud enough to drown out Jim’s encouragement— “So good, so pretty, look at you, perfect little slut. All mine. Come on baby, let me see you come.” 

That alone was enough to make Corey’s eyes roll back in his head, but one last perfect angle of his hips was what finally sent him over the edge. He came so hard his vision went fuzzy, limbs giving out as he spilled over his stomach and cried out, “Oh god, fuck daddy.”

[THERE IT IS. One of the terrible influences who shall not be named popped into my DMs like “Consider: unnegotiated honorary in a moment of carnal horny and then Jim just straight up CACKLES” and I was like well. Guess That’s Getting Throw In The Pile Too.] 

There was a minute of blank, overwhelmed and far away and completely beyond himself. Jim milked him through it, still working his fingers in and out as the aftershocks made him twitch and whimper, until he started to come back down again. Actually, the only thing that snapped him back to the here and now was realizing that Jim was laughing. Not just laughing, giggling like a goddamn school girl. 

You had to be fucking kidding. 

Corey reached out, attempting to smack him but missing entirely. “Fuck’s so funny?”

“Daddy? Dude. You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding right?” Jim dissolved into another fit of laughter, eyes scrunched up in a big grin. 

“Shut up. Shut your fucking mouth now. You don’t get to hold the shit I say when I come against me.” Corey huffed, sitting up on his elbows and trying to scoot away. Unlucky for him, Jim was still big enough to lean over him again and still be eye level. 

He pushed Corey’s hair back, pressing a kiss to his lips with a deep chuckle. “Quit your whining. You alright?”

Corey rolled his eyes, collapsing with a sigh and (albeit begrudgingly) circling his arms around Jim’s neck. “Mmm, peachy. Just shut up and cuddle me, you fucking demon. And you tell no one about that.”

[ANYWAY. This fic took me like three wholeass months or something so I hope it was worth it. There’s also a coinciding playlist that goes with this beast if you click on the AO3 link back at the top. Thank you for reading this disaster.] 

[fluffy-marshmallow-heart]

Ride or Die ch.15 -Dead End

Colt's POV of chapter 15, when MC crashed her car

Colt x MC (Ellie)

Words: 3557

Warnings: NSFW

This was requested by @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction 

Colt had spent all day looking for Toby and Ximena, finally finding them and filling them in on what’s been happening. He told them about the plan Ellie came up with, capturing the Brotherhood on video.

“I’m hoping they’ll be too distracted by my attempting to catch them on camera that they won’t even notice there are others. “I bought a burner phone specifically for this, so it really doesn’t matter if anything happens to it.”

“Wow, that…could actually work.” Toby told him

A flash of pride rippled through Colt. That’s because my girl is smart.

  After telling them what they need to do, where they need to be, and at what time, they parted ways. I hope Ellie’s right and they pull through.

Colt rode his bike to a random small house in South Central, roaring into the quiet neighborhood, parking behind Ellie’s pink car.

Pink. She had to have pink. So noticeable, so girly girl, so…Ellie.

He gets off his bike and saunters over to where Ellie is standing with Logan. Fucking Logan.

“Is it done?” She asked

Cold nodded. “Green light. We’re just waiting for a call sometime tonight.”

“You’re sure?” Logan had his eyes narrowed, looking at Colt accusingly.

Anger bubbled up inside him. “Yes, I’m sure, you…”

“Guys, we’re on the same side, remember?” Ellie cut in, glaring at the both.

Colt sighed, running a hand through his hair. Fine.

Logan looked at her apologetically. “Let’s just get inside.”

Colt takes Ellie’s hand and holds her back as Logan walks ahead. “Hey, look…I stopped by the old garage earlier, to try to find some things. Anything, really, to remind me of my family’s legacy. And I found this. I guess my pop kept it from my first car. He had it in his desk. And now, well, no place for it on my bike, so…I figure you might as well have it, if you want.”

He hesitantly holds out a little cactus bobble head, complete with a mustache and sombrero. Please don’t laugh. I know it’s lame. I was a kid when I got it and thought it was cool. Something prickly just like me.

“Colt…thank you.” She smiled warmly at him, and butterflies erupted in his stomach.

He shrugged casually. “It’s nothing. Just a trinket, but…maybe it’ll bring you some luck.”

Taking her hand again, they follow Logan up to the door. He knocked, and a moment later the door swings open to reveal some food truck guy Colt had seen around every now and then.

“Logan! It’s been a minute, cuz.” He steps forward to give Logan a hug but stops short when he sees his expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we lay low out here for the day?” Logan asked.

“Course. Come in.”

The guy leads them inside. He takes in Ellie’s prom dress. “You wanna tell me what’s goin on?”

Mother fucker better not be checking her out ever again. I’ll forgive the dress, because it’s odd she’s still in it, but next time…

“The less you know, the better.” Logan informed.

“You at least gonna tell me who this dude is?” He points to Colt, and he fists his hands, agitated. Seriously?

“That’s Kaneko’s kid. And you remember Ellie.”

Kaneko’s kid?? I have a name!!!

“Colt.” He said flatly.

“Hey, Vaughn. Sorry for intruding.” Ellie shot him a Look, and he shrugged slightly. Whatever, it’s my name.

“Nah, it’s cool. Get comfy, change outta those threads…”

“Thanks. We’ve got some planning to do.”

“Well, hang on just one second. You can stay here, but I need something in return.”

Naturally

Logan’s face fell. “You do?”

Vaughn turns away, walking to the kitchen counter. “You might be my cousin, but nothing in life is free. You gotta do me a favor.”

“What?” Logan asked hesitantly.

“You gotta taste test my new dishes for my truck.” He turns back around with a tray of fresh, eclectic street food.

Logan grinned. “I think we can manage that just fine…”

Colt’s mouth immediately started watering, and as they discussed their plan, they scarfed down amazing food.

Hours later, the sun sets outside, and the showdown with the Brotherhood draws nearer. After planning every last detail of the night, the four of them are passing time half-watching TV in Vaughn’s living room.

Ellie keeps looking at the clock. Logan nudges her. “There’s nothing we can do but wait.”

Colt slid his eyes over to her. She looks just as nervous as I feel. I need an outlet. We both do.

Ellie gave a half smile. “I know, I just…I feel like I need to do something now. Get all this anxious energy out so it doesn’t distract me later.”

“I know how you feel.” Colt clenches and unclenches his fist, over and over and over again.

“You can lie down in my spare room for a bit, Ellie.” Vaughn offered.

Right. Mr. Nice Guy. No wonder Logan brought us here.

“Thanks, Vaughn. I think that’ll help.”

“We’ll get you when it’s time.” Logan assured.

She nods, the heads toward the hall, she pauses in the doorway, looking back at them. Colt catches her eye from across the room.

Come on, Ellie, bring me with you, I know exactly how to get out all our frustrations.

“Colt, could I talk to you for a minute?” She asked.

Yesssss. Shove it, Logan. She wants to fuck me, not you. I win.

Colt shrugs, not showing his excitement, and follows her down the hall to the bedroom. He closes the door behind them, then leans against it casually. “Did you actually want to talk, or…?”

“No.” Ellie wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into a passionate kiss. He pulls back to smirk. “Not even dirty talk?”

“Colt!” She slaps his shoulder playfully, but then he captures her mouth with his. Their embrace is heated, insistent. He walks her back toward the bed, his hands running all over her body, under her clothes…

“Colt…”

He can feel his kisses make her dizzy, his touch alone sets her on fire. Something tells him they’re both barely on the edge of control.

This feeling…what is this feeling….it feels like…I can’t control myself around this woman, I need to consume her. She’s mine and I’m hers and this is forever.

“Ellie, what’re you doing to me?”

“Hopefully making you feel really, really good.”

He groans into her mouth, pulling her flush against his hard body. “Yes…Can you feel how good you make me feel?”

He thrusts his hips into her, letting her feel how hard he is. He wants to plunge his cock inside her. His lips travel down her neck, nipping and licking at her exposed skin. His hands slide under her sweatshirt, and she arches into him.

“Colt…take it off” She says breathlessly.

As you wish. He doesn’t need to be asked twice. He quickly pulls her sweatshirt over her head, then unbuttons her jeans and pushes them down her hips, and she quickly shakes them off. He pulls her back into his arms, her bare skin rubbing against his still-clothed body.

“Not…fair…” She moans as he caresses every inch of her exposed skin.

He licked his lips, unable to stop the smile appearing on his lips. “If you want me outta my clothes, all you gotta do is ask.”

She tugs on his leather jacket, pulling it off one shoulder. “Off. Now.”

Colt pulls back to take off his clothes, throwing them haphazardly across the room. “Better?”

“Much.”

The two of them settle back on the bed together. He pulls her in for another searing kiss, his body flush against hers. He squeezes her ass and knows exactly how he wants her.

“Don’t stop” She begged.

“Wasn’t planning to. Come here.” He nudges her onto all fours, facing away from him. He kisses her spine, making her shiver

“Colt stop teasing…”

“But I love when you moan my name.”  And now you’re gonna fucking scream it.

He glides his hands down to her hips with a featherlight touch, a whimper escaping her mouth, then guides himself into her tight, wet slit. He grunted as he began to thrust in and out of her, his need for her consuming them both as she puts a hand on the headboard to steady herself as he moves faster and faster.

“Colt..oh, god…”

So fucking tight. So fucking perfect, This body…I love this body, she feels so good wrapped around my dick. Where the fuck has she been my whole life?

He can no longer contain himself. He swivels his hips just so, pulling on her hair so she leans more backwards and together they fall apart. He shot his hot sperm into her as her sweet pussy drank it up, milking him completely. The two of them collapse on the bed together, a tangle of sweaty limbs.

She snuggled into his arms and he kissed the top of her head gently. After a few minutes, they caught their breaths.

“We’re gonna have to do this soon, aren’t we?” She whispered into his chest.

Colt runs his hands up and down her arm in a soothing pattern. “Whatever the Brotherhood throws at us, we’re ready.”

She flips over to face him. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

He runs his thumb over her cheek, gazing deep into her eyes. “Only if you promise me the same thing.”

I know you. You’re just like me. Both of us do what needs to be done.

She sighed. “…This whole plan is kinda stupid, isn’t it?”

He kisses her forehead. “Maybe, but it’s the best we’ve got.”

Logan knocks. “We got the call. We’re in. It’s go time.”

Colt kisses her one last time before getting up and pulling on his clothes. “I’ll let you get ready.” She just nods, and he leaves the room.

Joining Logan and Vaughn in the living room, both men were giving him death stares. Alright. Guess Logan told Vaughn I stole her away from him. Which I did, so…fuck off losers.

Steps sound in the hallway and they all look up to see her.

“Oh, damn.” Vaughn’s eyes were wide.

“I’m ready.” She announced.

“You sure look like it. Logan’s jaw was practically on the floor.

Colt eyes her ravenously, soaking in her appearance. He really likes the red leather coat. “I already feel better about our chances.” You look bangin’.

Logan tosses her her keys and she catches them out of the air. “Let’s go.” She pulls out her phone, powering it on for the first time in a while…and dial a number. She presses speakerphone, so they can all hear.

“9-1-1 emergency, what is your location?”

“My name is Ellie Wheeler. I want to turn myself in.” There’s silence on the other end for a moment.

“Alright, what is your location Miss Wheeler? We’ll send someone to come pick you up.”

“There’s only one person I’ll speak to. Detective Wheeler. Have him meet me at the Pacific Division station. I’ll be there soon.”

“Miss, if there’s…”

She hangs up the phone. “Clock’s running.”

They all walk outside to where her car is parked at the curb.

Logan grabs her hands. “You’re sure I can’t convince you to let me go in your place?”

She shook her head. “No. It has to be me.”

Logan’s shoulders slump a little. “I know…but a guy can hope. Just…if anything goes wrong, Ellie, look out for yourself. Run.”

Colt watches from a short distance, arms tensely folded. He just gives her a nod when she looks his way. Yes. Run, and I’ll find you to live out our lives. I promise, Ellie.

“Well. See you on the other side.” She gets into her car, shutting the door. Colt sees her put his old cactus on her dash and his heart feels like it’s going to explode of happiness…until she turns the engine on and drives out into the moonless night up the 405 toward Mar Vista.

His heart sinks as he climbs on his bike and heads for his location. Hardly any time passed when his earpiece went off, Ellie’s voice coming through.

“Logan? Colt? We’ve hooked them. They’re coming up fast in the cars we stole for them off the hauler truck.”

Logan’s voice sounds through next. “Already? Damn, they’re quicker than we thought.”

Colt narrows his eyes in frustration. “It’s too early! They’re gonna catch you before you get to the target! Step on it!”

“They’re almost on me!”

“You’re still a ways out. Hang on. I’ll be there as soon as I can!” Logan shouts into his Bluetooth.

Right. Knight in shining fucking armor. Ugh.

“Hurry up, Logan.” He spat out. “You better not let anything happen to her.”

“I got it, Colt.”

As Colt reaches his destination, he sees her rocket forward, the two cars that were at her side crashing into each other and sending debris flying.

Oh my god…my pop…he trusted her with a NOS system?? He taught her how to use it?? His heart ached at the realization of exactly how much his father cared for her and looked out for her…all because his son did.

Thanks pop. I had no idea. Thank you for keeping her safe.

She dodges another car back and forth across the lanes, barely staying out of reach.

“You’re almost there, Ellie!” He shouts into his speaker.

Come on, come on, you’re gonna make it! Just a couple more miles!

Colt whips out his burner phone and sets it up to record. He hears bare metal and looks back up, gasping. He felt like he was watching everything unfold in slow motion.

Ellie’s car stalls as her tire blows out, sending sparks flying against the pavement. Another car slams into her, sending her spinning.

“Ellie! Can you hear me? I’ll be there in a few seconds! One last go for old times’ sake?” Logan pleaded.

“One last go” It was barely a whisper, but Colt still heard it.

Ellie dodges hard to the side as Logan turns on his high beams directly in front of the Brotherhood cars.

“Ellie, go! I’ll catch up!”

“Hurry! You’re at the off-ramp!” Colt added.

She steps on the gas. “I’m almost there! I can make it…”

One of the cars in pursuit flies ahead of her and skids to a stop, blocking the exit ramp.

His heart began pounding erratically. This is looking…familiar.

Flashes of his father speeding towards the barricade and crashing his car to save the crew, to save him, swam through his head. He felt sick. She’s doing the same thing. Oh my god, please no.  

“Dammit! Okay, just stay on the freeway, Ellie!” He could hear his voice but it didn’t sound like his own. It sounded a bit higher, panicked…fearful.

“Colt, I have to get there! If I don’t, all of this was for nothing…” She argued

Colt shook his head violently, his breaths coming faster and his head starting to spin.  “There’s gotta be another way.”

“No. This is where I get off.” She said, fury and determination evident in her tone

She floors it straight towards the stopped car, while Colt fell to his knees, bile rising in his throat, shock overtaking him. No, no, no…NO!!!!! NOT AGAIN!!!! THIS CAN’T HAPPEN TO ME AGAIN!!!!

He screamed, yet there was no sound. He didn’t feel attached to his body anymore. He was with his father, whom he didn’t even think loved him and yet gave his life to keep him safe. He was with Ellie, whom he had found love himself and loved him back…and was about to give her life to keep him safe. And he was completely helpless to stop either one of them. For the very first time in his life, he was terrified of losing someone he loves. He never had to think about it before his father died.

Like a missile, she crashes into the car, knocking it aside.

“Ellie!” Logan cried.

Her airbag deploys as gravity abandons her. She goes airborne off the ramp, spinning like a top. She slams down on the pavement of a wide, empty lot fifteen feet down. Colt could practically feel the metal crumpling and denting, unable to handle the impact. Her momentum sends her rolling several times until finally coming to a rest on the car’s roof.

Colt gaped at the heavily damaged car, the glass broken and scattered in all directions.

Oh my god, Ellie, what did you do?? You can’t…I don’t believe…you have to be okay. You’re all I’ve got left

Slowly he realized he was shaking uncontrollably, the phone in his hands had already dropped to the ground, his face the only thing on the screen. He became vaguely aware of Logan’s voice in his ear.

“Ellie! Ellie, can you hear me?”

A weak cough responded. “yeah…I made it to the target”

Oh my god, she’s alive. She made it. She FUCKING MADE IT!!!! MY GIRL MADE IT!!!!

“That was absolutely insane!” He finally found his voice. SHE FUCKING MADE IT!!! SHE’S ALIVE!!!

“Colt, are you in position?”

Taking several deep breaths to slow his still racing heart, he answered. “Ready and waiting by the transformer box. They’re coming up on you now.”

“Okay…*cough*…make sure to get their faces on camera.”

But she sounds so weak. She must be hurt. No has that kind of accident without getting hurt. Not even someone as crazy as her.

Headlights approach and the cars stop, doors opening, masked figures approaching the destroyed car. One of them offers her a hand helps her crawl through the shattered glass.

Jason.

Jason’s helping her to her feet when Logan approaches. Jason draws a gun, putting the muzzle to Ellie’s temple just as Logan comes around the bend. He slams on the brakes, skidding to a stop ten feet away, bathing them in his headlights. Jason’s form casts a long shadow across the lot.

She survived the crash just to take a bullet to the head? I don’t think so. We’ve come too far. Time to end this. Without thinking, Colt started marching forward, ready to kill the Brotherhood. He’s blind with rage, not seeing the woman deftly approaching him.

“Nice phone.” She snarled, snatching it away and wrenching his arms behind his back in a hold.

“Thanks. It’s insured.” He snapped back. FUCK!!!

A walkie-talkie crackled at the woman’s side.

“Hester, it’s Shaw. You find Kaneko’s kid?”

“Bringing him in now.” The lady spoke back.

“I have a fucking name, and it’s not ‘Kaneko’s kid’.” Everyone calling me Kaneko’s kid. I’m not my father, and I never will be.

Crossing the lot, Hester pushes Colt along at gunpoint. “I really don’t care.” She replied, sounding bored. She calls out to Jason. “Caught him over there trying to film us on this.” She tosses Colt’s phone onto the ground and shoots it. It shatters and sparks.

“Trying to get us on tape, huh? Get us locked up? Oh, so close.” Jason teased menacingly.

 “Good thing we wore masks. You would’ve had nothing, anyway.” The Brotherhood then peel off their masks.

“But how…did you know?” Ellie asked, her voice feigning disbelief.

Jason smirked, shaking his head. “Ellie…come on…we tapped your phone. Duh. We’re the goddamn police. I thought you would’ve figured that out by now.” He laughed.

“We heard you call 911…we heard you tell Kaneko’s kid what to do, where to be.”

“Colt!” He couldn’t stop himself, the words just slipped out angrily.

Jason rolls his eyes and steps closer to Ellie, the barrel of his gun just inches away from her head. “It’s actually kind of tragic. I thought you would’ve made a good cop, Ellie…but I was wrong. A cop always needs to think one step ahead. And now…now your dad will never know what happened to you.” He aims the gun at her, his face neutral.

“You said you didn’t want to hurt her.”

Mona. Traitor. Never trusted her.

Jason frowned. “I didn’t. But she didn’t learn her lesson. You should know, Ellie, I take no pleasure in this. We really were never that different.”

A slow smile spread on Ellie’s face. “Oh, really? I think we are.”

“How’s that?”

“The difference between you and me? Well, for one, I’m not the dumbass who just walked right into a trap.”

She really is going to be okay. There’s that snarky tone I love so much. Colt let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

“What is she talking about?” Wallace asks nervously.

Jason looks around, anxiousness spreading on his face. He looks far across the lot…to the façade of Mar Vista High, and the dozens of CCTV cameras on the streetlamps.

“Say cheese, asshole.” Logan grinned.

Jason’s eyes went wide. “No…”

Gotcha   “Go ahead. Wave to Toby and Ximena.”

Inside the school’s AV club, Ximena grins, her voice ringing loud and clear in the parking lot. “We got ‘em”

“In crystal clear high definition.” Toby agreed.

“Shaw…what just happened?” Hester’s voice raised a few octaves.

“I…”

“Always gotta stay one step ahead, isn’t that right, Jason?” Ellie asked sweetly, winking at Colt. He smiled at her before directing his gaze back at Jason and the other two members of the brotherhood.

That’s right asshole. No one messes with my crew.

  @annekebbphotography @gardeningourmet @zigortega4life @eileendannie @thequeenofcronuts @drakewalkerfantasy @friedherringclodthing @coffeebeandragon @drakewalker04 @alesana45 @mfackenthal

@i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction

@rhymesmenagerie

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #236

“so i asked you once, and i ask you again: where do your roots start, and where do your roots end?”

Do you wear a ring on your finger? Yeah, a Supernatural reference best friend one. Do you listen to your friends’ advice when they give it to you? I mean, it depends on the kind of advice and the seriousness of the issue. I'd say in most cases, yes. What’re you listening to right now? "Angel Eyes" by New Years Day ft. Chris Motionless. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? It has been, twice. I don't think I'll do it again because my glasses are just in the way and they come out and get lost too easily. Is your last ex still someone you care about and do you still have romantic feelings for your ex? Yes to both. My feelings towards her haven't changed at all, we just made a heavily-discussed, hard, but wise decision for the time being. Are you someone’s best friend? Sara. What’s the biggest annoyance in your life right now? Annoyance, ummm... oh, easy. Being poor as dirt. That's only slightly under my skin, y'know? Have you spoken to your mother today? Yeah, I live with her. When was the last time you cried and why? PTSD. It's started to become relevant again, jOY to THe WOrlD!!!!!1!!!1!!!!! Is there someone who makes you instantly smile when you receive a message from them? I mean I don't always smile, but I consistently do get excited. If someone loved you right now, would you want them to tell you? *confused screaming* Do you like to cuddle? If I'm seriously romantically into you, yes. Is any part of you sad at all? I think that's always going to be a thing for me, somewhere down in there. Do you like seafood? Only shrimp, and even that I don't like in some forms. Do you have any of your exes as friends on Facebook? Yeah. Does more than one person like you? Idk. Do you ever worry that people might be talking about you behind your back? Always. Fuck, I think Sara's the only person I can count on to never. Do you call your partner ‘baby’? I hated it and never used it 'til Sara. I eventually did, and somehow, it felt okay and not disrespectful??? Idk if I'll use it again. What's the most boring guy’s name out there? Like, "Bob" or something. Do you know how to play Mahjong? Nope. Ever had a promise ring? No. What’s the biggest turn off in the opposite sex? Send me a dick pic and I will actually KICK you in the dick. Fun fact, even though I'm still bi, visually, penises gross me the fuck out and so I'd rather see someone's as little as possible, m'kay? Doing that is like a surefire way for me to decide "oh no bye boy." How often do you catch yourself daydreaming? A whole lot. This time last year, were you single? No. Who is someone you’ll always hate? The doctor that put me on a medication that put around 100 pounds on me and blamed it aaaaaall on me. :^) Do you know anyone with the same name as you? Yeah, just spelled differently. Who knows your biggest secret(s)? Sara. Do you ever read the threads on r/AskReddit? No. Are you currently stressed out about anything? You have no fucking idea. What’s your Instagram @? brittanymphotography or eldritch_obscura, depending on what kind of photography you're into. Don't have a personal one. Have you ever smoked a cigarette? No. Are you in love with anyone at the moment? It's so complicated. I think, but I also question the "in" love part. That and just "loving" are different to me. I want her, I want Jason, and here I am strictly monogamous. I barely understand what I feel romantically rn. If a friend called you to help hide a body, would you help or turn them in? UM fuck that I'm calling the cops. Have you ever had a crush on someone that, now as you look back, is completely embarrassing? Not really. How would you react if a friend started dating your ex? When "ex" is used singularly, I always assume you want The Ex. So, regardless of friend, that'd feel weird, but with certain people/levels of friendship, less so than others. If you were in an emergency, which friend would you call first? So not family? Uhhh, I don't know. It depends on the kind of emergency. Ever kissed someone who wasn’t single? No. Other than that "someone who wasn't single" being my partner. Are you single? if no who are you dating and for how long? Not right now, no. What kind of music do you listen to? Tons of different forms of metal, rock, indie, and I'm even into some electro stuff now. Do you have any YouTube videos of yourself? Thank the merciful lord, not anymore. What’s your fave YouTube video? BIIIIIIIIIHHHHHHHHHH the one featuring Dark in A Heist With Markiplier. I am not exaggerating my love of White Suit Dark. Use three words that best describe your best friend: Passionate, loyal, and resilient as a motherfucker. Now use three that best describe you: Also passionate, empathetic, and caring. List three things that describe your crush/love: Look I love someone but am also preoccupied with the idea of Jason coming back to me. It's not a "crush," it's being in love with a memory. I don't have a clue how to answer this rn. Is there someone in the family that no one really talks to? As far as extended family goes, yeah. Have you ever been romantically interested in a coworker? N/A What is the game you’re currently playing most often on your phone? None; I have no games on it because my phone has incredibly small memory. Same. Are you close to someone who is mentally unwell? Well, define "unwell." I have a load of friends and family with mental disorders, but calling them "mentally unwell" seems too severe. Do you have an opinion on adopting/purchasing a pet? Adopt, dude. There are so, SO many cats and dogs and I'm sure more that need a home, but you'd rather pay hundreds for a dog with likely some sort of health problem from extreme breeding than adopt an animal for a far cheaper price that ALREADY needs a family? Come on, now. Have you ever read any of your idols’ books/autobiographies? I read Ozzy's autobiography. Do you know anyone who is freaked out by cats? ???????????? no????????????? What name would you pick for yourself? Probably "Zoey." Do you enjoy going to live shows? Do concerts count? 'Cuz yeah. Who do you spend the most time with? My mom, I guess? She's the only one I live with, but she's like, never home because she works more than she breathes. What color do you wish your hair was? Natural hair, blonde. So much easier to dye, jc. Does any of the jewelry you wear have sentimental significance? The ring mentioned earlier, as well as the bracelet Sara also gave me. Who is your favorite drummer? Eh, no op Do you find musicians attractive? This is a dumb question... It depends on the musician??? If you could get any piercing, what would it be? I want a microdermal below/near the outer corner of my eye NOW. But I have glasses so it would totally ruin the purpose, ugh. Do you scream, yell, jump around and dance at shows or do you stand still? Just cheer, really. I wouldn't call it "screaming." I guess I can yell, too? Have you ever lost your voice from screaming so much? "No. I’ve had a sore throat." <<<< This. What’s your favorite color on the person you have feelings for? Both Sara and Jason, as well as like anyone, I love wearing black. Actually, Sara is super cute in light colors, like baby pink. Ugh talking about them at the same time feels fuckin weird. Who’s your favorite horror monster/killer? Alright, let's just say like, the "traditional" guys. I suppose Jason? His silence, totally casual pursuit, and mask creep me out, man. What kind of music do you prefer to listen to when driving? When I myself am driving, I don't want music on. I can't concentrate. Are you willing to board airplanes? I've gone up to see Sara like... three times within two years, I think? They don't scare me too much. I don't like takeoff, though. Too rocky and dizzying. Do looks really matter to you when it comes to friendship? ??????????? what?????????? the fuck??????????????? Do you accept friend requests from people you don’t know? Nope. I have to not only know you, but care more about you than like the average acquaintance of whatever. What is one of your best talents? Writing, I guess? Are/were you a rebellious youth or angsty teen? ha ha oh BOY Do you put your change in a jar for savings? No. How do you feel about transvestites? BITCH y'all great. I love you. Fuckin ROCK YA SHIT. Do you know anyone with a land line at their house? Yes, actually. Do you have any guilty pleasures? Certain kinds of daydreams. Have you been in a fist fight with someone you didn’t want to fight? I've never had a physical fight. Has anyone ever convinced you to do something you didn’t want to? Sure. Usually for my own benefit/growth, though. Are you a sensitive person? Yeah, quite a bit. Do you enjoy writing? Yep. Are you a germ-o-phobe? YEAH. Would you ever own a hairless rat, cat or dog? I would TOTALLY have a sphynx. There's this one breed of dog too and is furless on most places but does have some furry areas and are so ugly they're cute, and I once almost did adopt a hairless rat. So there's your answer. Do you prefer big, fluffy towels or normal sized/smaller towels? BIG FLUFF What is the image on your beach towel? Don't have one of those. Are you good with making eye contact? NO. I never know how long to maintain it and overthink it HEAVILY. I avoid it most of the time. What is your favorite book that was turned into a movie? Probably The Outsiders. I thought it did the book great justice. Do you like the movie or the book better? I don't remember either well enough. Do you watch porn? No. I don't want to watch some strangers bang each other. It's in no way arousing to me. What’s your favorite flavor of applesauce, if any? I guess just normal? Do you go to a firework show every 4th of July? Nah. Are you diabetic? No. Are you allergic to gluten? No. I don't think I'd survive. Are you lactose intolerant? No. Do you live with your parents? Just my mom. Parents are divorced and Mom had full custody, and my two sisters are proper adults that can survive without their mommy. :^) How much experience do you have written down on your resume, approximately? NOT A LOT!!!!!!!! I only count like, one damn job that was valid/lasted a couple months, but only because I very rarely worked. I also only include my previous online college, and should I create a resume now, obviously the one I currently attend. What’s your favorite song to dance to? I do not dance, my friend. What do you think of your parents? Both of them are great. Mom is the reason I'm (in the big picture) healthy, even alive. I WOULD be dead, died a long time ago, if it was not for that woman. Saved my life again and again and again, been there for me through both the same old shit and new madness. I'mma stop here before I actually cry just thinking about how thankful I am for her. Dad, too, I love, and I aspire to be as positive as he seems nowadays. His loyalty to my sisters and me, especially after the shit I've said, is incredible. He doesn't take a lot too seriously, and that's nice, especially when you're having a hard time. He's an optimistic guy now that always makes an effort to cheer you up. He's a total goof, too. He's just fun to be around. What do you think makes you attractive to other people? HA, fuck if I know. I guess my vertical lip labret stands out? Everyone I've dated since having it has at some point pointed out that that's like, my trademark that makes me recognizable right off the bat and that it looks good on me. One of the few things I even like on myself. Would more money make you happier? Look me right in the fucking eye and answer "no" to this. What is one of your favorite memories as a child? Watching my older sister play demo discs' video games after waking up. It's something so simple, but idk, I love remembering that. What’s your favorite kind of cake? Probably red velvet, like gd that shit good. Who is your favorite sports team? Idc. Like I have a natural fondness towards the Carolina Hurricanes 'cuz they're Dad's favorite and we've gone to some games together, but I really don't care. Who would you like to get to know better? I have this high school acquaintance named Courtlynn on my Facebook that seems so cool and relatable. She seems to like me too (not romantically, but she's really supportive, hearts like everything, comments the sweetest stuff sometimes, all that), I just think both of us are shy to reach out. What is the strangest food you ever ate? "I don’t eat anything I consider strange. I’m so picky and basic." <<<< Big 'ole fat same. What’s your favorite thing to order at a Chinese food restaurant? I exclusively only eat pork fried rice and/or egg rolls. Are you an organ donor? YES!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE BE ONE!!!!!!!!!! YOU DON'T NEED THEM ONCE UR DEAD!!!!!!!!!!!! THE LIVING DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SAVE SOME LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What’s your favorite candle scent? FRESH BAKED BREAD MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM What would you do if you found an abandoned animal? Check for identification and call if a number is given, offer it food and water, put a notification up on Facebook about a lost pet... all that stuff. We'd try to avoid a shelter, probably, because yeah. Euthanization is a thing. Have you ever kissed someone who had a tongue piercing? I am the one with the tongue piercing lmao. No. Is it easy for someone to make you cry? OH YES, QUITE. How many children can you see yourself having? IF I had kids, IF, I could not possibly imagine myself with more than two. What is your favorite PlayStation 1 game? SILENT HILL FUCK MAN I LOVE THAT SHIT. Are you competitive? Not really. Depends. Black and white or colored photos? It very much depends. Composition, lighting, content, all that contributes to what I find more aesthetically pleasing. Do you prefer to date younger, older, or the same age as you? Preferably around my age. What’s something from the past that you don’t miss at all? Being a depressed mess every waking moment of my life. Do you like ice cream cake? Not really. Do you wash your hair every day? No, every day is bad for your hair. Do you have trouble sticking to promises? Definitely not. I'm good at that. Have you ever made out with someone of the same sex? Very briefly. She thought she was ready, but not quite. What kind of headphones do you have? Right now they're literally just flimsy hot pink earplugs from a dollar store lmao. How often do you go to parties? Never. Do you sleep in awkward positions? I don't think so. Do you experiment a lot with new looks on yourself? Not really. Where is your favorite place to be kissed? Don't touch my tits with, like, anything. Do you ever quote your favorite movie in normal conversations? No? Do people ever tell you that you look stoned when you’re not? No. Do you suffer from anxiety or depression? *shrugs* why not both? Do hospitals freak you out? To a degree. Been there enough times to both get semi-used to it, but it also agitates old wounds and makes me antsy to get out. What about cemeteries at night? I've never experienced this, so I can't say. But the idea doesn't really creep me out, no. What is your favorite Nintendo 64 game? I never had one. Were you mean as a little kid? Nah, I was a good kid actually.

[melaninkpopimagines]

Affairs

Part: 1!| 2!| 3!| 4!|

Author: Admin Jazzi

warning: smut, Domestic violence, language....murder...

Word count: 2k

6 months earlier

It wasn't easy for you to get away. Randy had tons of important things he wanted you on his arm for. He was always suspicious, threatening you anytime he thought you were going to leave him. You were afraid to leave him. Everything you had he owned. He owned the car you used, your mother's car, he had control of your bank accounts. He just had control of you. That's why you did not leave. You did not want to be left with nothing

The only time you could get away was when he went on business trips. He didn't want you going on those. You knew it was because his secretary would be there too. You were fine with his cheating. He thought he was slick; but you knew what was going on. It was why he never touched you. But you did not care; Because it gave you time with Erik

Erik did not control you. In fact you had no expectations for each other. It was freedom and amazing sex.

You didn't know exactly know what Erik did. He told you he worked security but you sensed that was a lie. He had too much money. You didn't know if he was married but he definitely had other women. And his biggest secret of all was those thousands of tiny scars on his body, that he told you not to ask about it.

You sat straddled on Erik’s lap. Randy had been gone to D.C. for some dumb meeting you didn't care to find more about. Even though he lectured you on it, you didn't listen. You were too ready to be with Erik. It had been a month since the last time you saw him. So you were in heaven sitting on his lap, with your head on his shoulder while he played video games.

You were wearing a pair of his shorts and his big hoodie. Your curls were free. There was no pressure.

Randy didn't let you wear anything like that even at home. You had to wear nice pajamas and be out of them, into something he picked out for you, as soon as you woke up. He made you get your hair straightened; because he didn't like your “nappy” hair.

Erik told you your curls were beautiful. He told you everything about you was beautiful. He told you were sexy and you always felt that way around him.

You closed your eyes breathing in Erik’s scent. The two of you had been hold up in the hotel for 2 days, hands all over each other. Erik gently rubbed his hands up and down your back, you had fallen asleep while he played video games most of the day. “Hey ma, get up let's eat.” he said. He gently kissed your exposed shoulder, trying to wake you up.

He chuckled as you gave him a sleepy nod but made no effort to move. You opened an eye and kissed his cheek. “I’m gonna shower first. Order me something with salad?” You got off his lap and went into the bathroom and closed the door before stripping from your clothes, down to your panties.

You looked in the mirror. Your body was bruised. A few hickeys on your neck from erik. But mostly bruises Randy inflicted. Your torso was the place he targeted. Not to bruise your face. Your ribcage and stomach were covered in old and new bruises. It's why you never let Erik see you topless. No matter how much he begged for it.

”You told me he aint do this shit anymore. “ You heard from behind you snapping you from the trance you were in. You looked up in the mirror. Erik was looking down at you with a hardened look. His jaw was clenched. His eyes carefully examined you. “Yo you don't knock before coming in on me?” You scolded grabbing the hoodie to put it back on. “I did knock. Why didn't you tell me this nigga was still was still beating on you.” he said grabbing the hoodie and throwing it across the bathroom.

You turned around. “Yo what happens to me isn't your business. Don't pretend you care just because you’re fucking me.” you said. “Man fuck you.” he started walking away.

You grabbed his arm trying to pull him back. He walked into the bedroom and started getting dressed. “Erik stop trying to leave i just got mad!” you said. “You keep taking your anger out on me than the nigga that’s putting his hands on you!” He yelled at you.

You stepped back. “You think i dont know its fucked up i keep letting this happen? But let me handle it Erik! I'm not helpless. I don't need you to save me!” You argued back. “why want you just leave him??” he said. “And what? Go to you Erik? You keep secrets and bitches. You want me to leave my marriage for that? How am i supposed to support my mama? Cuz if i leave him, I’m getting nothing, we’ve been married a year nigga i’ll be on the street. Am i supposed to count on you??” you pushed him.

“Lower your fucking voice. Ion appreciate the way you talking to me!” he shouted. “You gonna hit me?” you tested, keeping eye contact. “No but if you don't shutcho dumbass up imma leave and you ain't ever gonna see me or this big dick again.” he smirked, now playfully. You rolled your eyes. “Leave then nigga. You ain't got the only big dick.”

He pulled you close and kissed you. “You know your smart ass mouth is sexy.” he said. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back, “You just saying that cuz my titties out and you’re hard.”

He smirked shedding you of your shorts. He lifted you up in his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pushed your back against a wall a bit roughly. “No matter what you say i care about you lil mama. If you need me just call me i'll take that nigga out.” You kissed him deeply. “Shut up nigga, you aint taken nobody out.”

He squeezed your ass. “just remember what i said.” he started kissing your neck. He held you in his strong arms, listening to your sweet moans. He slid your panties to the side, letting the tip of his cock tease your entrance. You moaned his name. “mmm baby, you sound so needy. I’m not the only big dick; but i'm the only one that can wreck this pussy.” He said as he slowly started entering you. You moaned arching your back off the wall. The noises you were making seemingly agreeing to his words.

But that wasn't enough for Erik. He wanted to here so you it.

He thrusted into you roughly once. “Who’s it for?” he smirked. You moaned holding onto him tightly as he smacked your ass again, impatient for a response. “Its for you, daddy.” you moaned out. He growled. “What’s for me?” he started thrusting again slowly. You moaned out, unable to form much of a sentence. He thrusted into you roughly, squeezing your hips tightly. “Tell me baby, What’s mine?” he grunted out as you squeezed around him. He stretched you as he roughly pounded into you. “This pussy!” you screamed throwing your head back.

You shut your eyes and listened to the filthy noises made as the two of you connected.

Erik’s nails dug into your hips. It would be a bitter reminder of this when it bruised later. You gripped his threads. He growled, always loving when you pulled his hair, maybe just as much as he lived for grabbing yours.

Your orgasm grew closer. You held onto him tightly. “Daddy can i cum.” you held on to him tightly, grinding your hips on his cock. “Go ahead baby.” he nibbled on your neck. You came hard. Your body shook as you held onto Erik tightly, not wanting to fall. Erik thrusted into you more roughly, biting your neck harder.

You felt yourself being thrown onto the soft bed. “Ass up baby girl, you know what i wanna see.” you turned on your hands and knees. Your spread your legs and laid your head in the pillow, giving a good view of your ass, as you arched your back. He groaned smacking your ass he pumped himself. “Look at you dripping for me” he smacked your ass again. You looked back at him, your face heating up. He looked at you hungrily.

“Fuck i cant get enough of this ass and this pussy is like heaven.” he smacked your ass once more. You whimpered as he thrusted into you. Harshly he moved his hips. He gripped your ass for leverage. He grabbed your hair, pulling your hair back as he continued fucking you. “You like this shit don't you?” he growled into your ear. You screamed yes daddy. You started throwing it back on him earning you and encouraging smack. “Oh fuck im coming!!” You screamed. Erik let you fall back onto the bed. Your legs shaked. Your screamed into the pillow. “cum on this dick. Show me its mine.” he encouraged as you came. His orgasm followed yours. He pulled out of you, pumping himself until he came on your back

6 months later

“Let’s go. NOW. ” Randy demanded. “Hol up don't raise your voice at her my dude.” Erik said stepping in between the two of you. He looked like he was ready to fight right then. “Erik i should go. “ you gently touched his arm. “Are you fucking crazy? Nah. You not going anywhere with this nigga.” he said firmy, looking down at you.

“Listen “Erik” I came here to collect my wife. This has nothing to do with you anymore, she won't be seeing you again.” Randy said. He grabbed your arm and started pulling you to the door. Erik went to grab him; but you gently pushed him away. “I’m good Erik don't worry.”

He backed off

Randy was quiet driving home. H He drove fast. You didn't talk because it would make him even madder. When you got home, he made his entire staff leave. “I want some alone time with my beautiful wife.” he said smiling sweetly at you. You both acted friendly watching as the maids and staff members leave and saying you’d see them again tomorrow.

You did not run, that would make it worse. As the last person left the house his fist connected to your face. You fell to the ground. Your eyes were blurry, you felt yourself losing consciousness. As you blacked out you felt another hit connect to your face.

When you came to, your head was spinning. You were laying in your bed. You sat up slowly, your head was spinning. You touched your face. You could feel the swelling. Your nose was bleeding and your eyes were still blurry. But when you looked down there was blood everywhere. You followed the trail. There was a knife and you saw a foot coming from your closet. You gasped noticing it was Randy’s shoe. Tears started running down your face. You jumped out of bed running out of the room, slipping up in all the blood and down the hallway.

You found your phone and dialed it with a shaky hand. As you raised it to your ear, you heard a familiar husky voice. “Hello? Are you okay y/n?”

“Erik, I think I killed him.”

Hi thank you for reading!!!

-Jazzi

[chroniccombustion]

I Can’t Help But Care (ch 2)

Genre: Trans!AU, domestic fluff, mild hurt/comfort Rated: K+ Characters: Yosuke Hanamura, Souji Seta (Yu Narukami), mentions of Izanagi/Shadow!Souji, mentions of Naoto Shirogane Warnings: minor mentions of dysphoria and self-hatred Status: twoshot, complete

<- previous chapter

“No, you—Don’t apologize, man.” Yosuke places his hand over the one Souji’s using to fish for his discarded shirt and gives it a squeeze. He groans behind his teeth. “I’m the one that should be sorry; this is the first time you’ve ever had your shirt off around me and all I’ve done so far is act like an ass.”

Chapter 2: I Just Complicate it When I Say Too Much

 The shower is running by the time Yosuke makes it back upstairs. It had taken him all of thirty seconds after paying to decide that he really didn’t want to bother setting up in the living room, so, food in hand, he plunks down on the floor in front of Souji’s coffee table. Originally he’d planned on letting Souji shower first while they were waiting; Souji’s showers never take very long, so the food probably would have arrived right as Yosuke was finishing up his own. He likes it when they eat together, since it’s almost like a stay-in date when the setting is right.

Now, though, for obvious reasons, that particular plan has been ever so slightly derailed. He could wait; he’s hit the point of exhaustion where he doesn’t really feel the hunger he knows is there. However, if he waits on Souji, then Souji will wait on him, and Yosuke doesn’t much like the idea of making his boyfriend wait any longer than necessary.

So he starts in on his food and waits for his partner to get out of the shower.

Souji reappears not long after, still shirtless, but dressed in his pajama pants with his sleep shirt tucked into the crook of his elbow as he scruffs a towel over his hair. He carefully seats himself beside Yosuke and offers him a quirk of his lips – a tired, fond smile.

“All yours,” he murmurs, mimicking Yosuke’s earlier words. He reaches out to snag his own bowl of takeout and pull it closer.

Up close, Yosuke can see the binder marks along Souji’s skin. They’re fainter now, still red but not as angry as they were before. A lot of the lesser chafing has all but faded, leaving only pink patches here and there in between the heavier outlines.

Yosuke must take too long to respond, because Souji looks over and catches him staring. He glances away, down at his own torso, and seems to curl inwards out of habit. “Sorry,” he says. He gropes around for the shirt he’d let fall beneath the table and starts to tug it closer.

“No, you—Don’t apologize, man.” Yosuke places his hand over the one Souji’s using to fish for his discarded shirt and gives it a squeeze. He groans behind his teeth. “I’m the one that should be sorry; this is the first time you’ve ever had your shirt off around me and all I’ve done so far is act like an ass.”

Souji huffs a laugh. He turns his hand over in Yosuke’s and folds their fingers together, giving a squeeze in return. “A protective ass,” he murmurs, voice teasing. “But I kind of sprung it on you, too.” He sneaks a glance back up at Yosuke from the corner of his eyes. His hand on the table fiddles nervously with his unbroken chopsticks. “Does it bother you?” he whispers. There is a thread of sadness in his tone now, of worry, like he’s still convinced that Yosuke will suddenly find him disgusting. He gestures at the irritation along his shoulder with his free hand, using a chopstick like a pointer. “They’re still tender; the water helped but I’m afraid if I put my shirt on they’ll stick to it.”

Yosuke doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he slowly leans forward until he’s able to properly catch Souji’s eyes. Gently, he raises their clasped hands and brings Souji’s fingers to his lips, brushing them over each one before pressing a quiet kiss to the back of Souji’s hand. “Nothing about you bothers me,” he whispers against his boyfriend’s skin. He watches Souji watching him and lets a soft smile stretch over his features where Souji can see. “I know I’m not doing a great job of showing it, but I’m really glad you took your shirt off.”

Souji looks at him with an expression full of affection and awe, so warm that Yosuke can feel it in his chest like sunlight. Souji is like a sun, but shyer – a guiding star in the darkness – and Yosuke wonders if it’s possible to fall in love with someone he’s already fallen for a hundred times over.

And then, suddenly, that warm expression becomes one of mischief as Souji snerks. It isn’t really a snort, much like all of Souji’s other laughter is never really laughter in the conventional sense; it’s a light, gravely sound in the back of his throat that grows into his usual breathy huff through the hint of his exposed teeth.

“Are you now?” he asks, somehow managing to keep his voice level despite his sniggering. His eyes gleam in a way they haven’t since before the two of them left the tv world, mirthful and happy and it makes Yosuke’s stomach swoop.

Even if he’s being teased for his unintentional innuendo.

He lets out a noise of exasperation – not the first one of the night – and rolls his eyes so hard his head drops back to rest on the couch seat behind him. “Oh ha ha, dude, and here I was feeling all sappy ‘cuz you’re actually comfortable around me.”

Souji ‘snerks’ again and clings to Yosuke’s hand when Yosuke tries to pretend he’s done enough to pull it away. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding it at all. “Couldn’t help it.” He sighs happily and tugs on the hand on his own until Yosuke relents and leans sideways.

Souji rests his head on Yosuke’s shoulder and hums. His breath is warm on Yosuke’s skin, even through the fabric of his shirt. Souji is warm, solid, real; how did Yosuke ever get so lucky? He tilts his head and brushes his lips over Souji’s forehead, earning him another hum in response.

“I knew what you meant, though.”

“Yeah?” Yosuke shifts just enough to be able to search for Souji’s eyes beyond that silvery shimmer of his still-damp hair.

“Yeah.”

They stay that way for a few minutes, taking comfort in each other’s presence. Eventually, though, Yosuke feels Souji’s breathing start to grow shallower and he nudges his boyfriend gently with his shoulder. “Hey, man,” he murmurs, and soft grey slowly blinks up at him through moon-colored lashes. (God, Yosuke is so weak for him.) “You still need to eat and I’m pretty sure I smell like a gym bag, so…”

Souji sits up. He winces slightly as his skin moves, but he makes no outward protest to being disturbed from his spot on Yosuke’s shoulder. Instead, he just rolls his shoulders back – or, at least he tries, but it doesn’t seem to do him much good since he’s obviously trying not to jostle his ribs too much. “Mm,” he agrees, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. “Yeah. Go ahead.”

He releases Yosuke’s hand and scoots closer to the coffee table, sitting up straighter as he locates both of his forgotten chopsticks.

Yosuke pushes to his feet, legs reminding him that that he, too, had spent several hours fighting shadows. He takes a second to press a kiss to the crown of Souji’s head before picking his way over to his bag to retrieve his sleep clothes. He pauses again just before he steps into the hallway and looks back over to where his boyfriend has finally started poking at his dinner. “You gonna be okay?”

Souji smiles sleepily around the end of his chopsticks and nods.

---

Yosuke: hey got a ?4u

Yosuke: u evr get binder rash?

Naoto S: THAT IS A VERY SPECIFIC QUESTION. I ASSUME UR ASKING FOR SOUJI-SENPAI?

Yosuke: yea. he left his binder on 2 long & now hes got red marks

Naoto S: HOW LONG DID HE WEAR IT 4?

Yosuke: all day

Yosuke: & n the tv

Yosuke: Naoto he fights n it

Naoto S: HE WHAT???

Naoto S: NO THAT IS TERRIBLE HE SHOULD NVR DO THAT

Yosuke: ikr?

Yosuke: hes got mad chafing. messed his ribs up 2

Naoto S: DO U NEED ME 2 SCOLD HIM?

Yosuke: nah i alrdy did

Yosuke: maybe 2moro tho

Yosuke: cant hurt

Yosuke: how do i help him 2nite?

Naoto S: 4 THE IRRITATION TREAT IT LIKE A SUNBURN OR SKINNED KNEE

Naoto S: USE ANTI-BAC MED ON BROKEN SKIN. LOTION ON REST

Naoto S: RIBS R TRICKY. HOW BAD?

Yosuke: idk? he can move ok just seems sore

Yosuke: he took a shwr. think hot watr helped

Naoto S: GOOD. MOBILITY IS GOOD

Naoto S: IF NOT 2 BAD THEN BACK RUBS CAN HELP

Yosuke: ty!! ur the best!!!

Naoto S: I AM AWARE

---

Yosuke takes his time rubbing the water out of his hair, standing in the bathroom in his pajamas with a towel in one hand and his phone in the other. Honestly, Naoto was a godsend – they’d been endlessly helpful after Souji’s dungeon, when Yosuke desperately wanted to learn but was afraid of bombarding Souji while he was still recovering. Naoto was patient, too, which was a bonus when dealing with someone like Yosuke who didn’t mean to be an asshole but was so out of touch he might as well have glued his foot directly to his mouth and called it a day.

He really would have to find a way to thank them somehow. Preferably in the near future.

Tucking the phone into his pocket, Yosuke glances around the bathroom. Lotion will be easy to get his hands on; Souji has a bottle of it over on his desk, probably for situations just like this. (Yosuke frowns at that thought but tucks it away because now is not the time.) Antibacterial medicine is the thing he actually has to go looking for, and despite how awkward he feels poking around in Dojima’s stuff, it’s for a good cause. Squashing that awkwardness, Yosuke digs through the medicine cabinet before finally locating a tube of gel.

He does his best to put everything back the way it was, before finally stepping out of the bathroom and heading back to where his boyfriends waits.

Souji looks up as he enters, giving him a slow upturning of his lips. He sits with his arms crossed over the top of the coffee table, like he’d been resting his head on them before Yosuke walked in. His shirt is still on the floor where Souji left it earlier, the irritation on his skin so faded now that other than the fiercest of the red lines his torso looks almost normal again.

“Hi,” he says sleepily. “I put the leftovers in the fridge already.”

Such a Souji thing to do, Yosuke thinks, returning the smile.

He steps over to the desk and snags the little bottle of lotion before plopping down beside his boyfriend. He presses a gentle kiss to the crest of Souji’s shoulder, earning a happy little hum in return. “How ya feeling?” he murmurs, eyeing the chafe lines closest to him.

Souji shifts. “Better. It’s starting to pull, though.”

“Ribs?”

A quiet huff. “Well I can breathe.” He looks over at Yosuke with fond eyes. “Just feels like I slept wrong now.”

Yosuke sets the tube of antibacterial gel and the bottle of lotion on the table in front of him. “Can I do something?” he asks quietly, pulling back enough so he can watch Souji’s expression.

Souji quirks a brow at the items on the table but doesn’t answer.

Yosuke scratches absently at his cheek. It’s one thing for Souji to be comfortable being shirtless around him; if Souji doesn’t want Yosuke actually touching his skin then that’s a roadblock Yosuke will have to respect. Even if it’s technically for medical purposes.

“I mean,” he tries, searching for a way to ask without being weird. “Are you okay with me touching you? Not—! Not in like, a sexual way, I just…” He gestures helplessly between Souji’s reddened skin and the stuff on the table, hoping it will be clearer than his failed attempt at words.

Luckily, Souji seems to understand, because he slowly nods after a moment of silent deliberation.

Yosuke lets out an exhale of sheer relief. He could probably have coerced Souji into letting him rub gel onto his shoulders but he’s not terribly keen on doing that. Souji’s trust is important to him; he doesn’t even want to chance bending it, let alone break it.

Taking up the gel first, he angles himself so that he’s facing Souji more completely. He unscrews the cap and squeezes a bit onto his finger, rubbing it between them to warm it up a little. “Can I?” he asks softly. He’s already been given permission, technically, but there’s no harm in double-checking.

Souji nods again. He shifts a bit, getting closer and leaning his shoulder in for Yosuke to start with.

Yosuke takes a moment to look at the chafing up close. It’s not as bad as it had initially looked – thank god – and most of the surrounding redness has faded out. All that remains, of note, at least, are the places where the edges of the binder had rubbed Souji’s skin raw to the point of breaking it. Yosuke doesn’t see any actual blood, though, which means that most if not all of the damage is surface-level. Okay. He can handle that. With all the weight of a feather, Yosuke touches his gel-covered fingertips to his partner’s battered skin, just outside the worst of if.

Gingerly, hesitantly, he starts to pat his way along the outline. He keeps his focus on his work but spares a glance upwards now and then to check and see how Souji is doing. Neither of them speaks for the next few minutes; the only sounds are the soft ‘plip plip plip’ of the gel as he carefully works it into Souji’s wounds and the occasional hiss of discomfort in response. When Yosuke finishes with the side he can reach – Souji’s shoulder and back being the worst of it, with only one spot beneath his underarm where the first layer of skin has peeled away – he heaves himself up and moves around to get at Souji’s left.

The left side of Souji’s body is marginally better than his right had been. The marks under his arm are just barely red, thankfully unbroken, and his shoulder has far fewer patches of broken skin than Yosuke had been expecting. The only place that looks as bad as before is along the curve of Souji’s shoulder blade where the binder scraped as Souji pulled his arm across himself to wield his katana. Yosuke bends down and brushes his lips over the unmarked expanse of Souji’s spine. His boyfriend makes a stilted, muffled sound low in his throat.

“Why do you wear it in the tv?” he whispers into his partner’s vertebrae. “Why don’t you just do what Naoto does?” He squeezes another heavy bead of gel onto his fingers and starts the process all over again.

Souji hums. It’s not his usual hum; it’s lower, like an audible frown, and Yosuke can picture the way his boyfriend’s brows draw together “I can’t,” he murmurs after a pause. “The binder’s the only thing I have.”

Yosuke stills. He looks up from the outline he’s been working on and tries to peer around the side of Souji’s face to catch his eyes. “Wait, so… Nothing else?”

Souji’s lips press into a thin, straight line. He stares ahead of him, eyes fixed somewhere on the far wall, and slowly shakes his head.

Yosuke sits back, hands falling away from his partner’s back to rest palms-up on his folded knees. He blinks stupidly at the back of Souji’s head. “Not even like a sports bra or…?”

“No.”

“Do you just not own any?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Yosuke bites down on his lower lip and chews it, nervous. It’s clear he’s hitting on a sore spot here, and he wants to press harder because this is something affecting Souji’s health, but he also recognizes the tightness in his leader’s voice. There isn’t a wall between them yet, but the cinderblocks sit ready, just in case.

He takes a deep breath, then takes the leap. “Why?”

Souji’s body goes rigid – the lines of his back sharpening as he tenses. But then he’s sighing, louder than he usually is, and slumping back down as the tension ebbs away. When he speaks his voice is tired, small, and Yosuke has to lean in a bit to hear him.

“I had a panic attack the last time I tried to go shopping for one.”

Oh. Oh fuck. Yosuke feels his face burning with awkward guilt as everything hits him with crystal clarity. Of course Souji wouldn’t own one; the poor guy couldn’t have just casually gone wandering through the women’s underwear department without getting the worst kind of stares, and even if he could his anxiety would have made it impossible to ask for a fitting room.

He wouldn’t have anyone to buy them for him, either, since it’s not like his parents would ever have bothered to buy him anything, especially clothes. The only other options would have been to come out to a stranger in order to ask for help, or to go shopping dressed as a girl, which… No. No, absolutely not. Yosuke clamps down on that thought before he makes himself sick.

He remembers how pale and empty-eyed Souji had been when Izanagi had revealed himself, remembers how violently Souji had been shaking as his shadow-self descended the stairs with long silver hair and a short uniform skirt.

Never again.

Yosuke sets aside the tube of gel and eases his arms around Souji’s middle, well below the chafing and the aching ribcage. He leans forward and rests his head between his boyfriend’s shoulder blades, careful to avoid any reddened skin or still-drying gel. Before he closes his arms, he whispers, “Is this okay?”

Souji’s reply is to lean back into Yosuke’s embrace and drape one of his own arms over the ones around his waist. “You’re always okay.”

Yosuke laughs softly. “I’m still gonna ask, though.” He gently squeezes his arms – more a twitch than anything – and nuzzles against Souji’s back.

Pressed together like this, Yosuke can feel the vibrations in his partner’s body as Souji hums; they spread through Yosuke’s chest and feel like home.

“It’s appreciated,” Souji says.

Yosuke could stay like this all night. He kind of wants to, but with his face pressed so close to Souji’s damaged skin he can feel that faint traces of heat still lingering in the chafe lines and he knows he still has just a little bit left to do. “Speaking of,” he starts. He waits for Souji to tilt his head back in Yosuke’s direction. “Would it be okay if I gave you a backrub? Or are your ribs too sore for that?”

Souji thinks a moment, gauging. Yosuke can feel the way Souji stretches and tests just how much his torso will let him move. He grunts, just once, and catches on a movement when he tenses too much on one side, but makes no other outward show of pain as he assesses his body. “They’re… tender,” he finally says, voice thoughtful. “I’ll tell you if it’s too much.” As if to further clarify his permission, Souji sits back up and leans across the table once more, leaving Yosuke to miss the feeling of warmth against his chest.

To compensate, and to make everything easier on the both of them, Yosuke tucks a leg up underneath himself and shifts so that he’s directly behind his boyfriend, with Souji positioned between his legs once Yosuke gets settled. It’s so domestic and intimate that Yosuke has to take a moment to remember what he’s doing and not just wrap his arms around Souji’s waist again and press their bodies back together.

He shakes his head to clear it before Souji can start to wonder if something’s up, and reaches past the other boy’s shoulder to snag the lotion bottle off the coffee table. There will be time for cuddling later. A whole lifetime’s worth, if Yosuke has anything to say about it. For now though, back to work.

Just as carefully as he had with the medicine, Yosuke takes a small amount of lotion, warmed between his hands, and starts to swipe it over the parts of Souji’s back that need it most. It’s nothing special, just something to help keep chapped skin from cracking open, but Naoto had said to treat it like a sunburn and Yosuke’s had enough sunburns in his life to know that dry skin peels in horrible ways. Granted, he’s never had the kind of chafing that Souji is dealing with, but he trusts Naoto’s advice.

It doesn’t take long for him to finish up with Souji’s back and sides, gently soothing the lotion into his partner’s skin. He hesitates when he gets to Souji’s front, which he would try to avoid but there’s a bit of irritation on Souji’s collarbones and Yosuke is certain the skin further down is probably in need of attention, too. Luckily, Souji is as observant as ever and holds his hand out wordlessly for the bottle. Yosuke presses a kiss to Souji’s neck in silent thanks and lets his boyfriend tend to his chest on his own.

While Souji is busy with his chest, Yosuke devotes his attention to Souji’s ribs. Slowly, pressing as lightly as he can to start, he uses his lotion-slick hands to smooth across the planes of his partner’s body. He digs his fingertips in when it seems he isn’t causing Souji any pain, pushes in with the heels of his palms when he can feel Souji stiffen under his touch. He doesn’t knead, nor try and undo any knots – there aren’t any, really, not around Souji’s torso – just gently works his hands over aching bones to try and alleviate the worst of it.

At one point he works up the courage to slip his hands around to the place just below the high points of his partner’s chest. He stills, asking for permission with his pause, and Souji gives it in the form of a nod and contented sigh. Yosuke keeps his fingers on safe places; he won’t go further up until Souji is ready.

When he finally moves back up to Souji’s shoulders, that’s when Yosuke finds the knots of stress at their worst. He’s always wondered how much his partner – their leader – really carries on his shoulders, both physical and metaphorical. He’s seen Souji roll his neck in battle and sometimes it seems less of a way to loosen up before a fight and more like a bid to keep his body from locking. The worst is when they’ve been under a time crunch, back before, when their friends and team members had been trapped in their own personal hells with only a few days to save them before the next blanket of choking fog.

Yosuke presses his thumb into a spot just between Souji’s shoulder blades and feels something shift that makes the other boy groan in appreciation.

All that pressure that Souji works under, the weight he carries, and all of it on top of being in an article of clothing that he should never be fighting in, should never wear as long as he does each and every day. Yosuke feels something in his heart twist at the thought of his boyfriend being in physical discomfort, or even pain nearly constantly because of this. And yet Souji has never once complained. Instead, he bottles everything up and lets it sink like a stone until he’s drowning. No wonder Izanagi had seemed so exhausted between his bouts of mania.

And that just leads to another thought that leaves a bitter taste in Yosuke’s mouth. Does Souji even get to relax at home? He’s too polite, too worried about other people’s comfort; it wouldn’t surprise Yosuke if Souji wore his binder right up until it was time to head upstairs for the night so that he didn’t have to be around his family with nothing on under his shirt.

Yosuke is finally pulled from his thoughts by the sound of shallow, even breathing. He blinks, bringing himself back to the present, back to Souji’s bedroom with his boyfriend nestled comfortably between his legs. The sight before him makes his heart stutter in the best of ways.

At some point while Yosuke was absorbed in his musings, hands methodically running patterns along his boyfriend’s back, Souji had slumped forward across the coffee table and laid his head in the crook of his own elbow. His eyes are closed now, and from his spot behind him Yosuke can see the delicate way Souji’s pale eyelashes rest against his cheek, the way the long day has melted from the lines on his face. Souji looks so peaceful in sleep – it’s not something Yosuke gets to see often, but is forever grateful that he’s the one that gets to see it when it does happen. Not all of Souji’s dreams are good, he knows, but for tonight it looks like his partner is somewhere safe inside his head.

Yosuke sighs. He hates to wake his boyfriend up when he looks so serene, but bent over a coffee table is not a good way to sleep; if Souji’s back wasn’t already sore, it sure as hell would be after a night spent like that.

Yosuke carefully hoists himself up – trying to let Souji have a few more minutes of peace before he wakes him – and moves as quietly as possible while getting everything squared away. He pulls the futon out and fluffs up the squashed pillows, plugs in both his and Souji’s phones, switches off the lights. In the morning, he’ll text Rise and Naoto and ask them if they’d please take his partner shopping, since Naoto will know what to look for and Rise can be their foil in case the boy and the gender fluid detective get any strange looks while looking at sports bras. They’ll take care of Souji; Yosuke doesn’t know if there’s anyone he trusts more than their friends.

For now, though, it’s late. There’s no school tomorrow, no work, no tv world. When they wake up they’ll have the house to themselves. There’s nothing to rush them or keep them from sleeping in.

When Yosuke finally manages to wake his sleeping boyfriend and usher him into bed – shirt still in a heap in the floor – Souji is dead asleep again the moment his head hits the pillow. Yosuke, however, keeps his eyes open for a while longer, watching the easy rise and fall of Souji’s chest as he breathes. He slips his arms around Souji’s waist and presses them as close together as he can, so that it’s nearly impossible to tell where one of them ends and the other begins.

He drifts away like this, wrapped protectively around the person his heart has decided to call home, with Souji’s shoulder beneath his lips and a silent promise to help heal him echoing in Yosuke’s head.

He wakes in the morning to the sight of Souji’s smile.

[estherroberts]

and nothing ever does begin like nothing ever ends

chapter seven: anchor

fandom: ars paradoxica, his dark materials

words: 1871

rating: T

characters: nikil sharma/mateo morales, petra & carmen, lou gaines & david marian, bridget chambers & ted chambers

read on ao3

series masterpost

June 23, 20[][]

“close your eyes!” mateo plugs his phone into his speaker and tosses his capuchin daemon toward nikil. “i’m gonna sic her on your tree frog, dude.”

“my eyes are closed!” nikil sits on the bed, holding jyotsana in his lap delicately. he can’t see her, but he knows edelmira is staring directly at them. “both of you, please relax.”

“you have to appreciate the full effect of the bell solo.”

“the bell solo?”

“hush!” he puts on the song and jumps up next to his boyfriend. “listen.”

the song, in nikil’s opinion, is average at best, but it does have a good rhythm. there’s some line about the length of a guy’s beard, something about women, and losing the ones you love. it’s all highly metaphorical and probably bullshit. “you really need to get into more 80s synth pop.”

“i hate you.”

“got any more shitty indie music to torture our ears with?” jyotsana asks, mustering as much of a smile as she’s capable of.

“as a matter of fact…” mateo flies off the bed again and bounces on his toes as he scrolls through his phone. edelmira climbs up to his shoulder and tugs his ear when she sees what they’re looking for. “we’re making you a playlist!”

“why on earth would you do that?” nikil is giggling, but he has to admit he’s a little flattered.

“it’s because your music taste is shit.” mateo answers, at the same time as his daemon says, “it’s because he’s super gay.”

now nikil is really laughing. “i’m certainly grateful for that. come here.”

mateo rolls his eyes as nikil pulls him closer for a kiss.

“thank you for improving my music taste. and for, well, being gay for me.”

“don’t get sappy on me, sharma.”

“i’m not capable of it, morales.”

July 24, 19[][]

carmen and petra stand at the entrance to an office that they’d thought was abandoned. however, esther roberts, a figure of great power and mystery, is sitting on the desk, feet tucked underneath her. she’s deep in thought, her gaze lost out the window.

it’s silent but for the two girls’ cold-induced whistle-breaths, and they exchange a horrified glance. neither esther, nor ritsa, her milk snake daemon, have noticed them yet, but they always could and there’s no telling what kind of trouble the girls would be in.

petra and ambrosio risk looking into the office one more time, and they glimpse a profound sadness on esther’s face.

carmen tugs on petra’s sleeve, and they slink back to their room together. “holy shit,” she whispers once she’s in the safety of her bed. “that was close.”

“oh, c’mon!” petra can feel the falsity in her voice, but she can’t make it anymore authentic. “would i let that happen?”

“no.” carmen pulls obsesso into her lap and he shifts into a skunk. “we haven’t gotten caught in years.”

“did you see her face?” petra asks, sitting at her desk chair and letting ambrosio lose to fly around the room. they’re still getting used to his new settled form as a harris hawk, but she has so admit she enjoys it.

“she looked… like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. never seen her that sad.”

“never seen anyone that sad.” petra changes her mind about the desk chair and hops into the bed next to carmen. “promise me we won’t end up like that?”

“i promise.” carmen sighs and kicks her feet into petra’s lap. “gosh.”

“hmm?”

“i’m so tired.”

“take a nap?” petra isn’t anywhere near sleep herself, but she doesn’t mind letting carmen use her as a pillow.

“yeah.”

for a moment, petra think carmen’ll ask her to sing, like she did when they were little. but she doesn’t and instead rests her head back and closes her eyes.

petra holds out her hand and ambrosio lands on it.

he nuzzles into her neck and pecks her softly on the cheek. “you okay, petra?”

“i guess.”

August 14, 1943

lou grabs david’s hand and lifts him up from the ground. “ready to march again?”

david laughs, dusts himself off, and picks up his pack. “yes, sir.”

it’s silent for a while as they walk with the rest of their unit, emmeline flying in circles overhead, and torial matching them stride for stride. david speaks first, reaching down to scratch his cheetah daemon under the chin as he does so. “scale of one to ten, how much do you believe in this war? uh, sir?”

lou casts a circular glance around to make sure no one is listening, and david can see exactly why emmeline settled as an owl. “i’d give it about a 4.”

“really?”

“listen. the magisterium… they’ve always been like this. they’ve always been this controlling, this demeaning, this cruel even, and most of us just turned a blind eye to it cuz we believe in the same god.” he shrugs, and continues, “but i do love my country. even if it’s full of hypocrites.”

“that’s fair.”

“and we gotta help those who need us.” he nods, a bit like he’s giving himself his own stamp of approval and turns to david. “what about you, son? you here because you believe?”

it takes him a minute to think it over. he’d asked lou to get him talking, loving the way his captain spun the threads of his mind in the air. “in all honesty, sir, i believe in this war. i believe in new denmark’s place in this war. the—“ he hesitates. “the ads all want us to focus on the fighting, and i do believe we’re fighting the good fight. but this is as much about helping the hebrew people as it is helping our allies.”

“marian, do you get a lot of shit for your daemon?”

david exchanges a look with torial, and nods. “yes, sir. because he’s male.”

“and i know you get just as much crap as me for not being a white boy.”

david chuckles, and agrees to that too.

“this is the kind of thing that’ll teach you to look out for other people. maintain balance and all that. or it’ll turn you into a sloppy asshole who pisses all over himself cuz he got his ass handed to him too many times.” emmeline lands on his shoulders and pecks him gently. “but you’re a good man. and you got the right ideals about this battle.”

“thank you. sir.”

November 25, 1946

“oh, yeah, he was a hot slice.”

“stop that!” bridget hits ted with her couch pillow. “please, dear god, stop saying ‘hot slice.’ it’s abhorrent.”

“have you found any sugars lately?” he asks, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows as he dodges her second attack.

“no! no one who’s interested in more than ‘one unforgettable night,’ or whatever the hell it is they’re calling fuck and runs these days.”

ted sputters at her for a moment. “so i’m not allowed to say ‘hot slice’ but you’re allowed to say ‘fuck and run?’”

“yes.”

his yorkie daemon runs around in circles yapping and bridget can’t help but giggle.

“hell,” he finally says, “seriously, woman, when are you gonna marry me?”

“tomorrow? at the courthouse? are you free?”

“wait, forreal? or are you messin’?”

she exchanges a glance with galené. they’d talked about this already, and they’re pretty set on it. “we joke about it all the time, but really, it would be beneficial to both of us. and i wouldn’t want to marry anyone but you.”

“iazza,” ted calls, and she hops up onto the sofa. “tell bridget how crazy she is.”

“bridget,” his daemon chides, “we can’t just get married at the courthouse. it has to be an event.”

lené snorts. “what, like a real white gown affair?”

“hell yeah.” the tiny dog wags her tail.

“sure,” bridget shrugs. “i never thought i’d get that kind of wedding.”

“you’ll get that all that and more,” ted promises, “and you won’t even have to have sex with a man on your honeymoon.”

“sounds incredible.”

[attract-mode-collective]

The Making Of Porn Parody Of An Old Kenji Eno Game, Part 1

[NOTE: as mentioned when describing the new direction for the blog, those long-form pieces that I had been debuting in the newsletter will now appear here first. Though, perhaps predictably, one that I’ve been working on is taking forever to finish, so I figured that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to republish ones that only subscribers had access to. Which many couldn’t even read in the first place, due to technical reasons. Hence why I am pleased to present to the general public, something that first appeared in the Super Attractive Club newsletter #10! The following is largely presented as it, though the author of the game’s Twitter handle has been added. Oh, and one more thing: Part 2 is headed your way fairly soon...]

One of my semi-regular haunts on the internet is the video game message board Select Button. Recently, a thread popped up entitled “This Ain’t Kenji Eno’s D: The XXX Porno Parody” in the back corner, for members only (hence the lack of any link).

It was started by an individual who goes by the handle HOBO and the following is all of his posts, presented largely as is, with minimal editing, for the sake of maintaining historical accuracy.

The formatting is also mostly the same; everything italicized is either someone else’s comments or my own notes and everything else is HOBO’s words, which have been published with permission.

D3: The Natural Playboys is still in the midst of development and I will provide further developments when the time is right…

10/27/16

I am on the SB Discord right now, as StanHansen, the #1 gajin pro-wrestler of all times. I have vowed that I will make the video game DDD, a sequel to D2. My sequel won't be for Dreamcast. It probably won't even be a video game. I downloaded Klik n Play, which I was competent enough to use way back when but now I'm a slow-witted fellow. I can't figure out how to get this shit running in W7. So this is gonna be a Ren'py game.

I don't want to draw characters so I'm just going to cut faces out of old porno mags I stole. I still keep under my bed. I highly recommend everyone invest in old timey pornography, or, if you're fortunate, make your own. We'll probably be spending a lot of the future in the dark and smut can help you through some hard times.

One of the magazines hidden under my bed is the May 2001 issue of TORSO: The bodybuilding magazine of the future. It has features such as Building Strong BONERS: Do you Kegel? and Confessions of a Dildo Connoisseur, both of which may be better ideas for games than DDD: The Natural Playboys. I'm flipping through it now and I am not sure I want any of these faces in my Kenji Eno tribute game. All these guys look like they were auditioning for an infomercial for a nose hair trimmer and got tricked into taking off their clothes. And getting boners. All slightly confused and not into it, as if they're saying "Like this?" through their forced smiles. Lots of Caesar haircuts. Not enough photos of guys holding up their cocks while wearing boxing gloves -- only one. There is a list of Hot New Web Sites made to look like an classic Mac OS window. None of the websites have proper domain names. Half of them are msn communities. One of them is on webtv: Todd's Erotic Wrestling Gallery. I assume none of them work nowadays.

I am now flipping through an old issue of Penthouse. One thing I am learning: the people who did pornos really dug Mac OS. There is a nude spread, in black and white with a few colored highlights, where half the page will have a butt and some cowboy boots, and below it a quote from Homer or William Blake. I don't think you can find that on pornhubs...can you? There's a comic about space lesbians having sex and stabbing aliens. It looks kinda 2000 AD. There is a review of Matthew Sweet's "Altered Beast" that mentions the video game but doesn't mention anime so it's worthless. There is an ad for Franklin Mint commemorative plates featuring dogs. I would buy those plates. And the final page advertises next month's issue. Its lead: The Hottest Women in America, featuring Hillary Rodham Clinton. Also some stories about the evils of industrial fishing and maintaining wood on a porno set.

Playboy gave Paris is Burning three Playboy bunnies out of four. Defending Your Life only got 2. Oliver Stone's Doors movie: four stars. Wilson Phillips, MC Hammer, Kenny G, and Hank Williams Jr won rock, r&b, jazz, and country albums of the year, respectively. Wow! There is a 20 questions with Whitney Houston, who claimed her horny level varied depending on the fullness of the moon. She also liked Public Enemy and admired Farrakhan. I am learning so much from this 25 year old issue of Playboy Magazine.

Anyway I was going to post this thread to shame me into finishing a bad idea game but instead it became a bad idea review of old porno mags. Please, if you have old pornos...tell me about them.

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Digital actress Laura, Jr. will be the only character who has never been horny, because she is 100% digital DNA.

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When asked: “arcade sequence action y/n”...

There will be an action sequence. The game will prompt you to open a separate exe and you'll have to play through a snowmobile sequence. When it's over you will return to the main game, and you better not lie about having cleared the snowmobile sequence. If you violate the honor rule you ruin things for everybody!

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Someone comments with: “Hypercard is an aesthetic we should all seek to return to, IMO.”

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10/28/16

There's a Hypercard framework for Ren'py. I thought I'd finally use it for this. Plus Jimmy Maher's been writing about Hypercard lately, which made me want to finally play the Manhole...but instead of doing that I decided "Let's spend the weekend making Hypercard game."

I don't know how anyone has the patience for sprite work. It is too damn hard. Everything has to be so exact! Unless you don't give a shit. I generally do not give a shit. I will just plop lines down anywhere. I can always fix them easily later! But if you only got a few dozen dots you better slap those dots down in the right spots, otherwise shit looks all wrong.

The stuff I've worked up so far looks all wrong but it's still fun to mess around with. I do not know if I have it in me to keep going like this -- I may have to go back to cutting up porno mags -- but it's been fun.

That's right. This game is copyrighted. Back off, software pirates!!

I stole this logo from somewhere, right? Is the Tri-Ace logo like this? Some album cover? What ever. It took 10 minutes. It's done.

I woke up and decided player character Laura is going to spend the whole game locked out of her apartment in her bathrobe. She might run into other digital actress Lauras. They won't be wearing bathrobes. This will allow me to reuse the same faces over and over but I can justify it by pretending I'm clever.

I'll get her eyebrows and everything else right sooner or later.

There will definitely be a Kenji Eno like-a-look in this software. He had a very good face.

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10/29/16

Oh God the main reason I posted another reply was cuz I meant to link to this imgur gallery and I forgot to do it. I love it so much. I want this guy to add my stuff to it.

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11/4/16

My Kenji Eno tribute gamesoft is the only thing keeping me going at the moment. I'm feeling pretty good about it, even though it's currently nothing but character sprites and background art and a few lines of placeholder dialogue in Ren'py.

Kenji Eno is hard to draw. I gotta fix up his suit. It's all wrong. His face...I dunno, maybe it's close enough? I have always loved his face. I have always loved Kenji Eno. Earlier today I finally listened to the Hinge Problems ep about Kenji Eno. I downloaded it years ago, and I have put off listening to it...for years. It was fun to listen to. But I also think Kenji Eno got the short end of the stick on there. I think Kenji Eno is a few tiers above Tommy Wiseau. I think if he kept living and people kept giving him money to make games he woulda finally hit a target. Maybe not the one he was aiming at, but he woulda hit eventually. Imagine how great games would be if we had a dozen Kenji Enos?

One of the things I learned from doing google-image-search "kenji eno" is that he wasn't always a fat dude. He was pretty slim by the end. He was kinda handsome! It made me feel bad about drawing King-Sized Kenji Eno...but that's my Kenji Eno, and he's dead so he can't stop me from doing it.

This is player character Laura, taking a shower. I deleted the shower lines. They were not to my satisfaction. A lot of it is not to my satisfaction. But trust me: she is taking a shower. That is a Kenji Eno thing, showers. That was a 20th century thing. People would pay money to watch ladies take showers in movies! Isn't that crazy? Should probably fix her shoulder. Maybe the bridge of her nose.

I think I once read something about Daniel Clowes being the sweatiest cartoonist of all times and I thought "No way. I am going to take his place. I'm already 70% of the way there." And I promise you all: everything I ever do is going to have a ton of sweat.

So M.C. Laura has an apartment where she showers. That means it's not at all gratuitous! It's all good! She gets locked out of that apartment soon after this. Maybe after she picks up that skull from the potted plant. Maybe you go back in there later and crack that safe.

I thought maybe this would be a young Laura who joined the D Navy but she doesn't look young enough. Do they give you cleavers in the navy? To chop potatoes? Maybe they should. I will add waves to the ocean later. Maybe you will climb that lighthouse. Maybe Kenji Eno is up there. Who fuckin knows! It's all a mystery...

I think Navy Laura MAY be cute and may be a bit too generic...but that may mean she is my personal character find of 2016. in this version she has a :GENKI: emote on her hat...but she is lacking the outlining on her tights. Pixel art is hard, and for suckers. Never do it!

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11/11/16

It's been hard to muster the enthusiasms to work on this or anything else, but I finished a background and another character, so I figured I would post it.

The background is a basement, and drawing a basement made me feel depressed, but then I got to fill in the pictures on the TVs. That made me feel better. I just wanted to draw some TVs.

The game now involves a cult. This Laura started off as a cult member. She may still be. She had the masquerade mask but she was topless, covered in paint, and really hairy, with a padlock piercing her left nipple and a skunk fur stole wrapped around her neck. It was a confused design and the more I worked on it the worse I felt about it, so I said fuck it, she's still a drunk and maybe she's still in the cult but she's also a digital actress who needs to blow off steam after shooting a period picture in uncomfortable costume. Which she wore home. To her basement. With all its TVs. Yeah, maybe this needs work.

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11/13/16

Someone says: “Hypercard is an aesthetic we should all seek to return to, IMO.”

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11/15/16

LET ME TOUCH YOU, DADDEH

Big Laura: Cyber~Lipqueen Edition.

I thought Laura would live in a cyber version of Philip Marlowe's apartment building from Altman's the Long Goodbye, but I got tired of trying to draw shit good so I said "LET'S JUST DRAW WHATEVER AND FILL UP SPACE WITH GRAFFITI AFTERWARDS." Yes, that is a graffito tag depicting a disembodied cartoon Laura head shouting "I'M GAY!", and if you click on it you will be able to modify it so it says "I'M SO GAY!"...but only if you win the lotto first, and use the winnings to buy a cyber-marker that lets you draw on the one-hundred percent digital walls of Miami South: The New Hollywood.

Gonna get Genki on the Moon.

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11/18/16

Hey every body it's a . . .

. . . Friday . . !

Don't hesitate to say "FUCK YOU" to any one who ticks you off...unless it's me. I didn't mean to piss you off, I swear.

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11/20/16

... After the election I was feeling really low and wondering if I should even bother making anything but now I think I gotta keep going...I gotta get really :genki:

… Last night I went to a screening of Blue Velvet. The experience was kinda awful -- it was in a cafeteria where they projected the Blu-Ray onto a big screen so MAYBE it's not a real-deal screening, the place was jam-packed, and almost everyone there was normal and attractive and on a date, which seemed really weird to me? Like, none of those squares were gonna go home and engage in real sickie sex. I don't think you should take a date to that movie unless one of you is gonna do some consensual face-punching after the fact.

But anyway, I saw Blue Velvet, and it had Laura Dern, who is a wonderful actress. Have you ever watched Enlightened? That was a fantastic television program. Maybe the last new program I watched and truly enjoyed. I mourned its death, which is something I haven't done for a TV program since I was a child. I highly recommend watching that show. But this Blue Velvet audience, they laughed a lot at Laura Dern, which upset me. I think she did a fine job. I also think maybe she was the inspiration for Laura. I haven't see Wild at Heart yet, but I think there's a 50/50 chance Kenji Eno bought a laserdisc player just so he could beat off to Laura Dern banging Nic Cage at the highest possible home video quality available in the early 90's. And even if she wasn't Kenji Eno's Laura I think she might be my Laura. Way skinnier, but she's my Laura. So if I ever get sued by the Eno estate let's submit this shit as evidence: Diane Ladd's daughter was my muse, not that Japanese weirdo.

Over the weekend I drew a gas station. It is also a diner. You ever write up a list of your top 10 gamesoft? I've done that a few times, but I don't think I've ever put Sam & Max Hit the Road on mine, even though I'm sure I've spent my entire life pining for that kinda road trip experience. I've spent so much of my life in a car, but most of the time I wasn't going anyplace fun. I wasn't going to Stuckey's, or Waffle House, or miniature golf, or some kind of mysterious cavern. And it's unlikely I'll ever get to go on a crazy road trip at this point in my life. So I think this game is going to be a game about hitting the road and, maybe, having a good time. It's going to be the game I wish FF15 was. I played that FF15 demo today -- it fuckin blew. D3 might blow ass but at least it won't be 90 hours long. I respect your time. I respect you.

I'm still not sure if alcoholic, adversarial Laura is going to be the cult member who takes over your apartment, or if you can hit the road with her...but I like her, even though I'm having the hardest time drawing her. I've spent the last month or so reading Gilbert Hernandez comics, because they bring me great comfort and I'm pretty sure he's the greatest living cartoonist (and possibly artist). I am now aware that I nicked so many concepts of this game from him, and it's probably more of a Beto tribute game than an Eno tribute game but in the end...above all...it's a tribute to me, and select button, all the girls I've loved before.

I recently re-read that 1up interview with Eno. It's a very good interview and I recommend looking it up on google cache, even though a few pages are missing from it. He mentioned that he added a story to D at the last minute, and that made me feel a bit better about how I'm approaching this game. I thought I was probably lying to myself, thinking that I can just generate assets and throw them together later and have a game...but fuck, if my boy Kenji could do it, why can't I? Why can't all of us. Let's all make games, cuz games suck and they could be so much better.

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11/27/16

No one's bad enough to endure 9 hours of D3, never mind 90! No one's bad enough! Believe it! Because D3 asks Tough Questions and forces the player to make Hard Choices! D3 is now FULL BLOWN GAMES-AS-ART because now it has...A MORALITY SYSTEM.

"How far will you go to get juice?" -- the tagline to "Juice (2031 Remake)" starring Laura, Jr. and Jermaine "Huggy" Hopkins IV.

Laura is a digital actress. She was designed for the screen, not for the streets. She's got a lotta learning to do now that she's locked out of her apartment with no money, no shoes...and no scruples! In this scene Laura has wandered into a convenience store only to find its clerk is asleep on the job. That means no one can stop you but you! Click on the cigs, the booze, the rubbers, or the raccoon...take whatever you want! But choose carefully, because you can only carry one item at a time -- remember, you're a damp actress with no pockets, and I'm an inept programmer who doesn't know how to properly implement an inventory system. I'll figure it out eventually, but for now let's all agree that my limitations are inspiring great art.

I am proud of the condoms, so here they are, zoomed in but not blown up. Don't blow up condoms before wearing them. It's a terrible idea! The condoms are an homage to Leisure Suit Larry, which is a horrible game that I think I might love? I played it for the first time a few years ago. I've thought about it nearly every day since. The scene where Larry tries to buy condoms is really, really racist. Does referencing it make me racist, too? Probably, so let's keep this magnum-sized condom art a select butt exclusive "easter egg".

I'm also proud of these cigarette boxes. I don't smoke, but I'd start if the boxes looked this cooł. I'd totally take money from Tobacco of any size if they wanted to make a Laura Boy brand -- I'm ready to sell out, and you can't judge me.

There are two Kids in this game. Here is Kid Lotto. You can visit him and play games of chance. Or you can kick his ass, cuz he's a fuckin tiny and you're way stronger than him. What's stopping you? NOTHING.

The other kid is Kid Blotto. He's an alcoholic and you can beat him up too, but it'll probably be really depressing and he'll probably puke on you. I haven't drawn him/her yet.

The following image was presented in a blurry fashion, using the site’s SFW tools...

I am blurring this behind spoiler text, cuz it's got bare lady boobs -- I want to make sure this thread is "work safe", even though it's got XXX PORNO PARODY in the title. I should maybe spoiler blur this too, because it'll be a shocking swerve when it's revealed that the leader of the cult that takes over Laura's apartment is ALSO the alcoholic masquerade ball Laura seen previously on this page...! Fuck!

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12/8/16

... Last week my tablet died, which slowed down my productivity. I couldn't easily draw pictures! Which may be for the best. Maybe if you're trying to make a video game you should focus on the game aspect. So I have spent a lot of time thinking about how to make this an interesting video game...a lot of wasted time, cuz I have no fuckin clue. But I did draw more pictures, I composed some music, and wrote a bunch of words.

I'm going to play Unlimited SaGa this weekend. I bet I can learn something from that. I bet D3 could be an unofficial sequel to a Kawazu and Eno game. I'm that confident.

While daydreaming about playing games I thought "Maybe Laura D. will wander Miami South: The NEW Hollywood in her bare feet, and she will have to rest occasionally, cuz her feet get so bloody and sore. She cannot wear shoes, because she is 100% digital, and her DNA lock keeps her from wearing tacky footwear such as sandals, or socks with sandals." And maybe I'd draw her feet, being all bloody and sore? But fuck, feet are the worst. No offense to anyone who's really into feet -- I am convinced foot fetishists are very focused, productive people and I'm deeply jealous of them -- but at a young age my older sister shamed me for my Fred Flintstone-looking feet, and I also read a lot of Rob Liefeld comics around the same time, so I have zero tolerance for feet. I believe they are ugly and also very hard to draw. But feet are an important part of the human anatomy and if you wanna make decent art you can't really avoid them. So I drew a few feet. You can see one of them here. Unlike most of the art I've posted so far I doubt I will ever revise this, cuz drawing feet is the worst.

I decided The Lauras would be pure digital beauty, except for their feet. Maybe that wasn't my Kenji Eno's thing. Maybe I'm projecting there. Maybe it's beautiful if your second toe is longer than your big toe? Please tell me this is the case, cuz I want to feel better about my feet.

HERE'S A LIST OF TOP 5 WORST THINGS TO DRAW:

1) Cars, except for those cute Choro-Q style cars Toriyama always drew in Dr. Slump. Those rank #6, cuz they're hard but maybe worth the effort. 2) Feet. 3) Ladies. I can't imagine being a dude or a lady drawing their horny ideal all day. Wouldn't that drive you crazy? How do you not spend all day pounding off rather than drawing? I avoided drawing ladies for this very reason. Well, that and cuz I bet my mom wouldn't approve of me drawing super hot babes. I'm getting over that now. D3 is all hot babes, all the time. No one can stop me! 4-5) I dunno, I forgot what the rest of the list was gonna be. Probably one body part or another -- humans are gross, and awful.

Miami South: The NEW Hollywood is where the world goes to make entertainment. Some of the entertainment is wholesome, some ain't...but a lot of it straddles the line between kid-friendly and the kinda shit your sickie dad would buy on clips4sale. This cop Laura who stars in CD-ROM video films where she somehow always ends up in her own handcuffs...she is a peek into the future of Pixar and such. Believe it. Furtopia...

Was Furtopia the name of that furry Pixar movie? I'm too lazy to google it. Either way...we all gonna see dads and moms covertly pounding off in the theater to Pixar movies within the next decade. I'm sure of it.

This is Ton Hardcore. She is the #1 character find of the 21st century, even though she's a total knockoff of Dump Matsumoto. Dump is the coolest of the pro-wrestlers. On the Discord I am StanHansen, but only because I was too chickenshit to take the name "DumpMatusmoto", because she was so tough and bad ass and beautiful.

A few years ago I wrote a screenplay featuring my tough gal Ton Hardcore. It was titled "Hooker #1". In the opening scene she butt-fucked a billionaire so hard he cried and gold coins fell from the pockets of his pajamas. There probably won't be any butt-fucking in D3, but if any of you guys got the Hollywood hook-up I have a script for the 2023 Pixar project ready to go.

Someday I would like to make a game about a pro-wrestler. One that focuses more on surviving on the road than performing in the ring. D3 may end up being that game. I bet being a digital actress ain't much different from being a pro-wrestler.

Ton Hardcore is my true Laura. She is going to be in everything I do. She's on my joystick. If you ever go to a FG tourney in the Northeast of the USA I will show you her looking cool, and in color, and bloody, cuz she's on my joystick. She's #1.

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12/15/16

A discussion about wrestling game emerges and someone says: “Still waiting for the 50 Cent: Blood on the Sand of wrestling games.” Def Jam Fight for New York is brought up, and then I mention my favorite guilty pleasure for the Xbox 360, Def Jam Icon…

I played the demo for Def Jam Icon way back when. I paid it no regard, because it was not by AKI. Perhaps that was unfair of me, but I believe hip hop and rapping is very cool, but not as cool as full-blown pro-wrestling....and the best pro-wrestling was delivered by AKI on the Nintendo 64.

I think AKI is the most successful b-tier late 90's j-gamedev that isn't From. Hell, maybe they are more successful. Demon's Souls is probably my favorite game of the last decade (it's almost January 2017, and GOD HAND came out in October 2006, so please do not debate this -- Demon's Souls is the best), but given the choice...I think I'd rather make a Style Savvy game than a Souls game. Though a cross between both...that's a dream game, right there.

I've spent most of the last week thinking about video-games, and trying to program them. I think the visual novel is bad. I can count the VNs I've enjoyed on one hand. I would like to make a video-game that I would enjoy, and that's probably a bad thing to think about. I have high standards! So maybe I should just settle for making a visual novel. But sometimes...you gotta believe. Sometimes you gotta go Kawazu. Sometimes you gotta try to program a board-game in Ren'py despite your incompetence as a programmer/gamedev.

The drawing above is from a diner scene. I think Laura D. will occasionally "take a load off", and visit a diner with the companion of your choosing. That is my 21st century "power fantasy", going to a diner with another human being. Just eating food, or having a drink, and talking about things. That is something I haven't done in the longest time, and can't imagine ever doing in the future. That is what DDD is shaping up to be. Lots of eating, and driving, in an America that never existed.

That Laura D. will not be in the final DDD. I like that drawing, but it's "off-model" as they say in the biz. On-model Laura D. isn't quite as chibi. She's leaner. Colder. She's a digital actress and she really isn't that interested in what anyone else is saying.

She's totally cool and may look more like this.

That image will also not appear in the final game, because I fuckin hate how static it looks, and how the feet are probably all wrong, and how there are no cars in that parking lot. Again, cars are almost as bad as feet, but maybe not as bad as horses. Horses are a fucking bitch to draw.

The Sailor, whose name hasn't been decided on yet, should be eating French fries but uh...I see I forgot to draw the French fries. Pretend she is a sulky teen who ordered only fries at D's diner. Every character will order a different food! You will learn so much about Laura D's companions at the diner, and so much of it will come form what they eat.

In the past I would have ordered a grilled cheese and fries at a diner. Now? Who the hell knows. I try to avoid having a good time. I try to avoid diners.

Earlier today I was drawing billboards. I fuckin love drawing billboards. I now love spirtework, cuz I can cut and paste shit and no one can shame me for it, cuz if you don't recycle shit video-games don't work. I liked how this image came out after cutting, pasting, and mirroring. I'd get it tattooed on my soul. On your soul. I'd make it my select-button avatar if the site still supported super big ass avatars. It's 100%