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trashmouth-richie · 11 months

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ᴴᴱᴬᵀᴱᴰ

CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED

HEATED

≛ modern!eddie x female reader x modern! steve

≛ summary: a week after being stranded on the side of the road with eddie and steve, you finally figure out what you’re going to do. Can the boys agree to what you have planned?

≛ THIS CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE FIC

≛ chapter warnings: MODERN AU, 18+ only I can’t be anymore clear about that, fuckgirl! reader vibes, Steve’s kind of a dickhead, oral m & f receiving and giving, mentions of birth control, reader gets eaten out by a girl, drug use, mention of alcohol, modern themes including texting, snapchat, iced coffee, crumbl cookie lmao etc, no y/n used, readers nickname is taff or taffy (bruh I hate using y/n catch me using any dumb nickname) Eddie picks reader up in a hug, real simpy Eddie behavior.

“I just don’t know Robin,” you explain, pulling literally at your hair from the root, “what should I do?”

Ever since that day in the back of Wayne’s truck, you hadn’t had a single night of peace. Both Eddie and Steve were blowing up your phone. Begging for your attention. It was flattering at first. Two of Hawkins hottest at your beck and call. Each vying for your undivided, not knowing that they were competing for it.

“Quit squirming,” Robin says in a huff between your legs, her mouth blossomed red and slick with spit, “I’ve been down here for thirty minutes and you aren’t any closer to coming than when I started.”

Her apartment was hot and sticky, the oscillating fan on its last leg, and you were both stripped down to nothing to keep cool on your planned girls day in. A day to forget about the boys stressing you out and for Robin to get away from her annoying ex. And just like how it usually happened with her, you ended up snorting lines and making eachother buzz with orgasms.

“Ugh, sorry,” you say annoyed, leaning up on your elbows to see her pretty face, “I just can’t relax.”

“Tell me about it,” she says around your puffy clit, the tip of her tongue flicking it like a snake.

You had made the boys swear to secrecy that they wouldn’t tell a soul about what had happened. But you didn’t promise anything.

And the moment you had gotten home, you sent a text to Robin explaining every single detail, down to girth and length.

“I think, you should date them both, try em out, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, now please shut up, you’re taking forever and I’m bored.”

The next morning you woke with a smile on your lips. Any turmoil left in your mind on your decision had gone with Robin’s idea.

The alarm clock on your bedside table illuminated 9:15AM and before even slipping your toes into some slippers, you sent two text messages to two recipients.

The normal routine of your morning commenced without fail, washing your face, scrubbing your body in the shower, putting on light makeup before making a pot of coffee.

Eddie arrived first, his motorcycle echoed loud off the parking lot as he backed it into a spot against the sidewalk. His dark curls were honeyed by the sun, a bag of Chinese takeout in one arm and a dozen roses in another. The prettiest dimples displayed on his stupid gorgeous face.

“Hey beautiful,” he smirked, wrapping you in a hug and kissing your cheek. He smelled like muted cigarettes and bourbon cologne. The creak of his leather jacket echoed in your ears as he lifted you off the ground into a bone crushing hug, making you squeal.

“Sleep well?”

Before you could answer his smile had faded into a scowl when the door swung open and Steve stood at the threshold. Wielding a pink box of gourmet cookies and two iced coffees, his wire framed Ray Bans pushed into his hair.

“Munson,” he greeted, nodding to his friend in that jock head jerk. Stepping around him, Steve sets the coffees on the counter and gathers you into a hug, kissing your neck and whispering that he had missed you.

His golden retriever vibe of tanned skin and forest colored eyes bore through you when he licked his lips.

You pull away and smile at them. They both look so good but in completely different ways.

Eddie’s tattoos were peeking out from under the tight white shirt he was wearing, as was a silver chain necklace.

You were practically drooling to get your lips on his skin again.

Steve was in light colored shorts and a casual button up, exposing the dusting of chest hair that your fingers ached to be wrapped in. If you had your way you’d take them both right here right now but that’s not what today was about.

“Why are we both here, baby?” Eddie asks, setting the bouquet and the Chinese food on the counter, pushing away the pink box of treats from his competitor.

“It’s obvious.” Steve says with a smirk pulling on his lips, “she’s gonna let you down easy and go out with me.”

“Always so cocky,” you tsk, trying not to look at the way his shorts are cinched at the zipper.

You look between them, big doe whiskey colored eyes stare at you in longing, while the mossy floor ones squinted with a smirk.

“We need to talk, and rather me having this conversation twice- I figured we are grown ass adults and can talk about what happened.”

Eddie nods and crosses his arms, leaning forward to not miss anything you were about to say. Meanwhile Steve leaned a hip into the wall, checking his phone.

“Before I stroke your egos, you both know you’re hot, so I’m not going to tell you how fucking great that day was.”

“fuck yeah it was,” Steve chimed in, adjusting his length in his shorts.

Eddie blushed a pretty salmon and shot you a wink.

“But— I’m not choosing between the two of you, I can’t, ask Robin, I about gave her a brain aneurysm yesterday trying to figure it out.”

You were the one on the verge of an aneurysm when you came allover her lips but that’s another story.

“So, we’re gonna do this with no strings, no feelings, just friends hooking up and playing around. Cool?”

Eddie’s eyes fall to the tops of his boots.

“So let me get this straight,” Steve gaped, eyebrows pulled in, “you’re going to go out with the two of us... at the same time?”

“Yeah, kinda what you do with every hussy in town Harrington.”

Steve’s gears are grinding but Eddie hasn’t said a word.

“What the fuck Taff?” Steve huffs in annoyance.

you banter back talking to him like he’s a child, “what’s the matter Harrington, don’t like sharing?”

“Rich boys are used to having their way.” Eddie gloats.

“Oh fuck off,” he pours, “what about sex? Or is this like a PG thing, eating pizza at Chucke fuckin’ Cheese?”

You cross your arms, and lick your lips, “oh we’ll be fucking, but not until you’re clean, both of you.”

Eddie’s eyes finally perk up, he hasn’t been with anyone since last year and he was checked three months ago.

“Oh come on!” Steve whines, “MaKenna is a virgin, and Blair and Nicole have only blown Tommy since being with me— no need to fuck anyone else catch my drift?”

“Sorry Harrington, I’m not risking catching anything and giving it to Eddie because you fundipped your way across campus. Show me you’re clean and it’s game on.”

He pouts, “Jesus Christ… I’ll even wear a condom, c’mon.. I swear I’m clean.”

“What the fuck is this 1990? I have an IUD, just get clean and we can do whatever you want.”

Eddie feels like he has the upper hand for the first time since arriving at your apartment, “W-when does this start, sweetheart?”

“Right now,” you shrug, “ I know you had to take off work today so I’m yours, see ya tomorrow Stevie.”

“Such bullshit.”

“Don’t worry buddy, I’ll take care of her while you’re off swabbing your pee hole,” Eddie says with a wave to his friend, cockiness in his stance.

“Be nice, boys.”

You don’t expect what happens next but Steve grabbed your wrist and twisted you into him, kissing you square on the mouth just as firm as he did in the bed of Wayne’s truck. Rough and giving no grace he leaves you spinning even after he’s left.

“Text me if you get bored with this one,” he says, licking his bottom lip to get one more taste of you as he walks through the door, “bye.”

You cross the kitchen to the counter, lips still buzzing from Steve’s kiss. You pull out two forks from the proper drawer and rip some paper towels from the roll.

Pulling out the white cardboard containers of Chinese food from the plastic sack, you plate them with shaky fingers. The fork in your hand slipping every once in a while and clanging loudly into the ceramic plate.

“Hungry?” you ask over your shoulder.

“Starving actually,” Eddie says, “but there’s something I wanna do first.”

You tear open a foil packet of soy sauce between your teeth and squeeze it all over the fried rice, “yeah, and what’s that?”

Not noticing how close he was to you, his hands rest hotly on either of your hips, fingernails grazing the cotton of your shorts.

In a quick spin, you’re suddenly facing him, fork in one hand, soy sauce packet in the other. His eyes are impossibly dark, and a twist of a smirk lays on his pretty lips.

“I wanna kiss you.”

His lips ghost over yours and your tongue reaches for his lips but is met by nothing.

His breath fans across your lips, the sweetest of pouts escapes you, and his adam's apple bobs in his throat, swallowing your annoyance, “not here.”

His fingers tease the waistband of your shorts, cold steel of his rings icing into your skin, dipping into it with a tentative touch.

The zipper of his leather jacket bites into your palms as you pull him closer into you, and just like that day on the side of the road, it felt easy with Eddie.

You share the same bated breath as his fingers plunge deeper and push your underwear out of the way. Between your slick folds he teases at your clit with his middle finger, swallowing the pretty noise you emit.

“Wanna kiss you here,” he said with a thick fingered flick against your clit making you moan through your teeth but lips, “need to taste you, again.”

You moan his name and he helps you wiggle out of your shorts in a hurry. Feeling like you’re possessed at the sight of him dropping to his knees on the cold linoleum of your kitchen floor, like a sinner praying for mercy in a cathedral—you’re practically begging for his tongue where you need it most.

Two weeks ago you and Eddie were just friends, and now he’s pulling the prettiest noises from you that would make the angels sick with worry,

His lips kiss your thighs feverishly in his travels. Dark curls tickling against the spit from his sloppy mouth. Every sensation in your body was screaming, and you cursed out loud when he hooked your leg over his shoulder like a guitar strap.

His eyes didn’t leave yours as he pushed this tongue into your slick, flicking against the hood of your clit, “so fuckin pretty baby, been seeing her in my dream for a week.”

Nerves wrecked already you’re practically a puddle at his simping words, trying like hell to balance on one foot and carving your nails into the underside of the counter. But Eddie’s face could have held you up alone.

He’s buried in your pussy. The happiest of graves. Nose, mouth chin- gone. All you can see of him down the plain of your own body are his curls. But you can feel him everywhere.

Devil's tongue stuffed between your legs, thrashing and lapping up like a mad man starved. His groans vibrate around you and your legs quake. His fingers are pushed deep in the well of your velvet walls, another circling your ass and putting the tiniest bit of pressure there making you cry out.

His name falls from your lips like a chant, faster and faster until your orgasm peaks and blinds you, your body losing all control from his tongue, your knuckles go white when you grab his hair, holding him right where you need him.

“Fuck,” he groans, wrapping his lips around your sensitive clit once more before he adjusts your panties back into place. Your fingers ache from the grip you had on the counter and in his locks.

Kissing the delicate fabric around the apex of your thighs, he whispers softly, “I could do that everyday.”

He helps you step back into your shorts, that glorious tongue poking out in concentration, and he looks up at you with a shy smile, standing and holding your hands.

“With a tongue like that, I might let you.”

“Don’t tease me Taffy, I’m still hard.”

And now it was your turn to be needy. You pull the lapels of his leather jacket into you and you kiss his slick coated lips, he tastes like you and the salty soy sauce that was still on your lip.

Kissing Eddie was different than Steve, he painted your mouth the same way he lapped at your folds. If you never caught your breath— that would be fine with you. Your head spun around his web and you were tangled in it.

His hands wrap around your back and one holds your face. It was deeply passionate, and your heart was bursting, your lips move to his neck and you suck and bite a mark into him, and he whimpers when your kisses go small.

“This is gonna get cold Eddie,” you say against the column of his throat.

“Let it, I’ll buy more.”

You grin into his skin and he laughs when you tickle his sides, “c’mon,” you urge.

And Eddie gets in one last kiss before breaking away, pulling your lip down with his thumb, and you shudder at the way he looks at you as if you’re the only girl on the planet, “if you say so.”

The Chinese needed to be s microwaved but it was still good., The hunan pork was tender and juicy, and the lo mein noodles were to die for. You and Eddie sat side by side on the barstools and talked like you always had. He had a gig this weekend and when he asked if you were coming you said of course you were, a quirk to your brow.

“Alright,” he said, putting alot of effort and concentration into twirling a noodle with his fork, “just wasn’t sure.”

You leaned forward and kissed sauce from the corner of his mouth, and your core ached and pulsed at the sight of his boyish grin and blushing cheeks.

“Wouldn’t miss it, even if it is Steve’s night.”

He accepted a bite from your fork of fried rice, and almost melted when you held pinched fingers up to his mouth of a ripped piece of crab rangoon.

“We’re still cool, right?” he asks after crushing the bite between his teeth, his eyes watching you put your fingers in your mouth and nodding.

“So c-can I ask you something as a friend?”

His brows are pinched in a furrow and you know he’s uneasy about something.

You slurp a noodle into your mouth and talk with a mouthful, a hand in front of your face, “spit it out, Munson.”

His fork clanks on the plate as he sets it down and gives the plate away. He runs a hand through his hair, and leans on his elbows and picks at his rings.

“So, why— I mean, why the both of us. You and Harrington can’t even stand each other.”

He was right, before last week you and Steve could barely be in the same room together, and now you were agreeing to fuck with no strings attached.

“It’s physical with Steve, like pure animalistic instinct. There’s no thoughts, and I think us hating each other just makes it that much better.”

Eddie’s weight shifts on the stool and his eyes never leave his rings, spinning them in a nervous habit.

“So you don’t like him like that?”

And the truth of his question falls through but you refuse to answer it, you have your own questions to ask, you toss the paper napkin onto your plate and mimic his actions, pushing it ahead on the counter.

“Eddie.. are you jealous?”

You leaned into him, the pads of your fingers daintily walking up his thigh, your eyes blink slow in a lazy seduction and fuck he’s practically putty in your hands.

He licks his lips feverishly, suddenly hot around the collar and his heart hammered a rhythm loud enough to make a tune out of it.

“N-no,” pppft he stammers, “I’m not jealous,” he tries his best not to catch your eye but once he does those hersheys bars give him away and a bubble gum blush tickles his cheeks. He clears his throat with an ahem, and raps his knuckles on the counter.

You stand and wiggle between his legs, pressing one hand further into his crotch and the other on his chest, toying with his necklace, your finger skating the pick left and right the chain making a zippered like noise.

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

Eddie is floored, wilting like a flower— all the oxygen and water ran out from the √≈petals. His mouth was almost glued shut, it’s so dry, Sahara would be jealous.

Your lips pucker behind his ear and the filth you’re whispering to him sends shivers down his spine. It’s lust licked and heavy, want me to touch you, or do you wanna touch me?

He answers with a dry groan and a swallow, and his hands find your hips spinning you around,his lips ghost over your neck and you throw your head back into him, pushing your ass into him to feel the swell of his bulge in his jeans.

He’s rutting into your doughy ass, his fat cock loving the friction you’re bouncing against him, you move your hips and grind further into him.

“Fuck baby,” he moans hot against the shell of your ear, catching in his throat.

His hands creep under the hem of your shirt and skate against your skin, the smooth of his nails electrifying each touch. They work along your curves, his big thick hands touching every inch of your skin, rubbing along the lacy edge of your maroon bralette.

The pads of his thumbs graze against your peaked nipples and you exhale. You're surrounded by the sharp spice of his cologne, the muted cigarettes clinging to his jacket, it encompassed you, held you like a hug and had your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

It felt too good. His lips hummed against your neck, vibrating hot and sending goosebumps along your skin, and you wanted more. Needed more.

You followed his hands, tracing the veins on the tops of them with your fingers, pushing your palm flat against them, making him squeeze at your tits, and you purred out his name, a shade away from whining.

Fuck you wanted him so bad. And judging by the firmness of his cock beneath your asscheeks, he wanted you just as badly.

You spun quickly, grabbing his hands and leading him to the couch, his lips were red from sucking on your neck, bangs were pushed up awkwardly from the position his head was buried into your shoulder. He looked drunk, enamored with something you didn’t recognize.

The leather of his belt was heavy in your fingers as you unraveled it through the buckle and the first loop on his jeans. His eyes never left yours as your fingers flipped the button and pushed his jeans down his hips.

He shuddered a breath when your hand cupped him in his boxers, the velvet of his skin soft and warm in your soft grip. He was bigger than you remembered, thick like a stout of beer.

“Christ Taff,” he breathed when you stroked him fully, the pad of your finger running over the vein that ran along his cock.

You looked at him through your lashes as you lowered yourself to the ground, dragging his jeans and boxers with you, “this what you wanted big boy? Wanted me on my knees for you?”

He hums and holds your chin, brushing his thumb across your lips.

Licking the tip of his thumb, you hold his heavy cock in your hands, stroking his shaft slow then fast, “you’re so big, Eddie.”

He swallows his next words when your tongue circles his head, collecting the precum with each devilish swipe. You stick out your tongue to show him the pearl in your mouth, and he almost combusts when you swallow it with a hum.

“Yummy.”

He’s certain he’s going to die right here in your living room, looking at you with your pink tongue swirling around his cock, the way your lips suction around him, fuck, you haven’t even put him fully in your mouth yet and he’s a goddamn mess.

The teasing is too much but he’ll take whatever you give him, if you were to stop now he’d be completely satisfied, he’d have to pump his cock furiously when he got home to make the ache go away but, he’d do it.

But you don’t stop, fuck no. You’re just getting started. You like him like this, flushed in his cheeks and waiting patiently for your mouth. His mouth opening as yours does. Waiting, pleading, hoping that you would finally let your wet warmth surround him.

And then you do.

He stretched your mouth cheek to cheek, a literal mouthful. And he hums. Is he thanking God? You hide your giggle, deciding to take him further into your throat as you hollow your cheeks and slide him deeper with the help of his canting hips.

You hum around him and it tickles him, but he’s so drunk on your mouth he’s muttering sentences that don’t even make sense.

Pumping your hands along his shaft you dribble spit from your throat to the head of his dick, a slimy string connecting you mouth, one that you slurp back up and take him in deeper. His knees are bent and he pulled his shirt under his chin, wanting to see you fully with his cock stuffed in your mouth, your pretty eyes are teary and he can feel you gag around him before he pulls out and you come back for more.

He’s not sure how long you’ve been at this, and he’s trying to keep his mind averted to anything other than your slippery throat and the cute way your eyes are looking up at him.

This was better than the way you sucked him off in the bed of Wayne’s truck. You were solely focused on him here. No other distractions, just you and him.

“Look so fucking pretty, baby,” he moaned, reaching down to hold your cheek, his thumb wipes away some of your smudged make up from your eye, “ do you know that?”

You nod with him in your throat, and he breathes more nonsense as he looks to the ceiling and runs his fingers through his hair, trying not to convulse, but he can’t take it any more, you're working his dick like you’re short on rent.

“Fuck, sweet girl, fuck,” Eddie whines, scrubbing his hands down his face, his stomach burning to give in to you, I— shit shit shit, ‘m gonna come.”

He works his hips away from you but you wrap your arms around the back of his knees, holding him with his dick still in your mouth, waiting like a kitten for milk.

He cums hard, biting through his bottom lip to keep himself from yelling out loud. You don’t stop bobbing your throat, swirling your tongue, around his length and puckering your lips around him.

With his load in your mouth you paint his cock with it, moving it around and around with your excess spit, a hurricane against your tornado tongue, you finally swallow, sucking in your cheeks once more, and cleaning Eddie off in one swoop. His cries fill the room and you finally release him with a pop.

“Jesus, fuck.” He exhales, sleepy eyed. His reddened swollen cock hanging between you both, “c’mere.”

He helps you to your feet, and you tuck him back into his boxers gently. He mutters an embarrassed thanks, you’re smiling up at him with a cocky little smirk. Completely ready for him to pull up his jeans, maybe get himself a beer from your fridge, but he doesn’t.

Eddie holds you to him, his forehead leaning on yours, big hands wrapped around the small of your back. His erratic breath plumed through his nose and his chest was beating fast. You’ve never seen him like this, “Eddie?”

He doesn’t let go, doesn’t say anything, he just moves back to press the lightest of kisses to the tip of your nose. “You, “ he finally says, licking his lips and rolling his eyes into the back of his head, finally focusing back on you, he pulls you closer, enough that his eyes are all you can see.

But whatever he was going to say is stuck in his throat, he never finishes what he was going to say. Just pulls you into him and holds you there, his lips on your neck, kissing you softly. It was a perfect day. You should have known it wouldn’t have been weird between you and Eddie, falling back into sync as best friends and laughing while snacking on m&m’s and smoking from his dab pen.

You end up falling asleep on your bed together, tired from exerting so much energy and bellies full of Chinese. Netflix asks, are you still watching YOU? on the tv on your dresser. Eddie’s tossing and turning wakes you and you grab your phone to check the time. 5 o’clock. Taking an almost four hour nap, but in reality it felt like four days straight.

But that's not the only surprising thing on your phone.

A litter of texts. From the same occupant. The other half of this agreement.

hope you enjoyed, seems like Steve isn’t too thrilled right?

♡tag list: @dashingdeb16 @emxxblog @mopeymopeymouse @pretendthisnameisclever @mommybaby-witch @eddies-acousticguitar

@tlclick73 @figmentofquinn @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @whenshelanded @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord * @leelei1980 @mopeymopeymouse @browneyes8288 @emilyslutface @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiesxangel @elegantkoalapaper * @str4ngergirlw0rld * @corrodedcoffincumslut @nailbatanddungeon @crybabyddl @zenathebeautiful @astela17 @taintedcigs @bettyfrommars @munsonsuccubus @munson-blurbs @hollandweather @serasvictoria @steviesgrl @sweetsweetjellybean @curiositydooropened @ashyyboyy @urlbitchin @sllooney @lame0o @ali-r3n @bangaveragewhitewine

#Steve x you #eddie x you smut #eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #Steve x you x Eddie #Eddie x you x Steve #fuckgirl! reader

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doodlenoodleboi · 2 months

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Hello! I have a request for Sal Fisher! Can you please write something about him with a reader who suffers from anxiety and that leads to her eating a bit faster than other people? She feels really embarrased when someone points it out. Comments like "Are you done already?" get to her, but she doesn't say anything and instead ducks her head because she is too shy and non-confrontational to stand up for herself. Thank you! <3

Sal Drabble

The vibe

Sal

It was a high school summer, these summers you could choose to either be a kid again or grow as an adult. We have a difficult time choosing these things. Why must we choose things that we don’t want to why not just live the moment?

“Hey! Hey! Bro, wake up!” I was Welcomed by the faces of my two best friends Sal and Larry, a rather interesting duo. The night before or rather shall I say a couple hours ago we had a sleepover at Larry’s house. I was tired and confused by the sudden disruption of my sleep.

“What?” I said, practically still asleep, rubbing my eyes from the crusty buildup of rheum.

“We’re leaving!” Sal said his smile evident in his voice, even though his prosthetic covered his face. I had never been out at night, especially with these two friends. Apparently it was a common thing amongst Larry and Sal. Sal even took off his prosthetic couple times. Nobody could see you in these dark streets, nobody was there to breathe in the air instead of that suffocating mask as Sal described.

Funny enough, Sal might dislike his appearance but the only thing that he truly appreciates about it, it is how it finds him real friends. Ones that couldn’t care less about his appearance. Those ones still tight, so now we’re strolling late at night down these streets I can’t remember. Soon I’ll never see the streets and will have to go away we have to be independent adults. Maybe even barely seeing each other and that sucked, just even the thought.”

The cold air braised everyone’s skin, obviously cool, but nothing close to freezing. Sal’s shoulder, blue hair covered his face for the most part. The way his face had been obscured as a child scared the creeps away but kept his friends closer. The way his right cheek torn reminded me of Mileena (MK reference).

The walk down the cold streets were quiet the only interruption being Larry every so often comments. And the sound of Sal’s skateboard against the road, streetlight and moonlight being to be only source of illumination.

I simply followed, along like a lost puppy going along with the flow, not wanting to ruin the vibe. It was uncomfortably quiet until Larry made his extroverted comment about being hungry. We stopped at a (insert place), probably close to our destination.

Larry ordered for everyone being the extrovert, he is of the group. Then we left, soon we made it to our destination. An abandoned skate park, right next to it was a building covered in graffiti. It was a comforting vibe about the place, because even if it was abandoned, I’m sure many people have still came here even though such information had been given.

I sat on the top of the Quarterpipe, a rather vacant area until Larry decides to sit next to me. I wasn’t fond of eating in front of people, maybe feel uncomfortable and watched. They could have absolutely no interest in me, but for some reason, I feel like all eyes on me. I am the best person in the world because I could be the absolute worst. I’m scared of people’s perception of me.

I started to eat next to Larry not wanting to confess that I am uncomfortable with the situation. I had been made fun of in the past because of my eating habits. As I ate my food, almost finished with it, Larry responded. (damn little lady you sure can pack it away. Jk) “Yo Bruh you look like Kirby right now, fucking that shit up.” in between the time of now and then, Larry was high, and that truly made me laugh forgetting about the previous situation given his state.

“Shut up Larry.” sal had said as he skated over to him. “He’s probably just high don’t mind him.” For a while, I would be dealing with a high Larry and a Sally who couldn’t care to do more than skate to get his mind off everything.

That night she realized she was surrounded by people. She wouldn’t have to worry about being embarrassed around. After all, they all are flawed.

(I am so sorry this was so rushed and so last-minute)

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stars-n-spice · 3 months

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The Dad Batch™ as things my dad has said/done:

Hunter:

asks questions about things and immediately answers himself like he knew the answer already or someone suddenly possessed him to answer himself

the only Korean movies he's ever shown us are war movies that are depressing as FUCK

had a Temu phase and for Christmas bought EVERYONE a blanket from them

explained his relationship with my mom to a coworker as "I live with her"

Mixed up my name with the dog

Had nice, long, beautiful hair but recently got it cut so short that he was depressed and moping for like a day about it even though HE wanted to cut it short

changes his age every time he tells us about when he came to America (he was either 14, 15, or 16)

Echo:

always sings "A Whole New World" for his karaoke song

apparently lied to the Korean embassy about going to America to "study" (has not been back since outside of visits to family)

my mom sent him a grocery list and he responded with "asking too much"

does not understand the words "bruh" or "huzzah" - along with all the other Gen Z slang (that even I don't understand sometimes)

would let me play Candy Crush on his phone but would take it away because I wasn't able to finish the levels and he didn't like me wasting his lives

calls my mom's cat "the baby"

got a PhD in his second language

Wrecker:

snores like a motherfucking freight train and sneezes like he's trying to break the sound barrier

learned how to cook/grill via YouTube (and is actually REALLY good at it)

wanted to show off his taekwondo skills (of which he has NONE) in elementary to a girl and said he'll kick a water bottle off her head - instead he ended up kicking the girl right in the face

Is married to a Mexican and thinks Taco Bell is the best (for some reason???)

Loves opening up presents more than the actual present itself (he'll always say that he doesn't need anything around Fathers Day, his birthday, or Christmas but then when he DOESN'T get anything, he gets upset)

takes a selfie and sends it to the family group chat every time my sister's cat comes to sit with him

Tech:

after his first date with my mom, he bought her a whole case of bottle water and left it at her dorm room door with no note or anything because he noted that she "drank a lot of water" during the date and thought she really liked water

was excused from mandatory Korean military service because his eyesight was so fucking awful, just absolute dogshit (and this was AFTER surgery)

asked if anyone needed to use the restroom on a road trip right before the exit and my younger brother said he needed to and my dad responded with "too bad" and kept driving

While we were watching Lord of the Rings every time I gasped or something during battle scenes or when Legolas did something cool, he went, "Don't worry. I think it's all CGI. That's all computers. It's not real."

Somehow knew his way around Texas the first time he was there after he was sent on a grocery run by my Tíos for a party they were having - y'know, before gps and google maps and shit

Crosshair:

frequently forgets my name and birthday but remembers that my favorite ice cream is mint chocolate chip

when my mom asked him where her birthday gift to her from him was one year all he did was cover his face and then did like a "peek-a-boo" motion to claim he was the gift

as a kid he got so upset at dinner once that he flipped the table over and got into so much trouble (claims he doesn't remember why he was so upset)

will ask the cats about their day before asking my mom or my siblings and I about our days

sits in the dark and plays COD on his phone at full volume as a way of unwinding

#i <3 my dad #he's such a stereotypical asian dad #but also not #anyways happy father's day :)#father's day #tbb #the bad batch #the dad batch #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb crosshair

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soulwrit3s · 1 year

Text

shuriri hcs [new and updated!]

side note: these aren’t the same HCS that I uploaded on my old acc. Some may be similiar but anyway hope it’s obvious that I did better on these. enjoy them and reblogs/feedback is always welcome.

Timeline: about two years after the bpwf film.

Shuri’s convinced that they need a theme song when they go on missions but they have opposite music taste.

Shuri always makes corny ass vine references and it makes Riri cringe.

“Shuri, quit talkin’.”

Shuri practically lives in Riri’s dorm. She’s there so often that Riri kinda expects it.

Shuri cannnnot stand when Riri brings up the whole bulls game situation because she ends up fighting for her life.

Shuri loves to rest her chin on Riri’s head, if not her head then her shoulder.

Riri is the big spoon, all the time. Rarely, does she ever get spooned.

They’ve been told that they remind the lab staff of an old sassy couple because they always throw fake shade at each other.

Riri always up on herrrrrr, but shuri doesn’t mind at all.

Once they decided to play fight and Shuri forgot about her panther strength…Riri ended up with a bruise on her thigh.

Riri did not know how to work her kimoyo beads at first and ended up calling a council meeting once my accident.

Their height difference. That’s it.

they always some how matching? Not necessarily color coded but they always for some sort of matching accessories or shoes.

Shuri has no comebacks…at least not when needs them so she just agrees with what Riri says.

“Who’s the man in the relationship?”

“Your mother.”

“What she said.”

Riri asks dumbass questions in the middle of the night.

“You’d still fuck with me If I was a butterfly right?”

“No.”

Riri taught shuri how to drive an actual car on the road and they damn near crashed Riri’s red barracuda.

Shuri’s always braiding her hair.

“Would you hold still?”

“Braid less tight, then maybe I would.”

when they go out together, Shuri’s social battery runs out so quick because she’s much rather be home.

When they go shopping, Shuri’s always carrying Riri’s bags.

“You the one with super strength not me.”

Shuri sleeps 60 percent of the time so when they hang out, half of it consists of naps and it rubs off on Riri.

Shuri always making some smartass comment about Riri’s height.

“I think ironheart would be more of a success if she was taller.”

“Literally fuck off.”

Riri is genuinely unhinged because she knows how fine Shuri is.

“Drop yo drawls, bruh.”

“Riri, we’re in a council meeting.”

“They can watch-“

“You can never be serious.”

“I’m being so serious.”

Shuri cannot take a compliment for some reason. Every time Riri says something, she gets kinda shy.

Riri ‘borrows’ Shuri’s clothes.

“Yo, can I get that hoodie?”

“What-“

“I’ll give it back.”

“I know you won’t, but here….”

Shuri is so petty when it comes to her lab so Riri has her own area.

Shuri gets her mad on purpose to hear that Chicago accent. Trust she gets it.

Shuri’s a morning person and ends up having to drag Riri out of bed every single morning.

“Just get up.”

“M’coming.”

“The alarm went off an hour ago.”

Both of them love them some chains.

Riri’s unhinged, we know this but so is Shuri, just more subtly.

“We got five minutes till your next class starts.”

“Girl….”

“I’m just saying, I felt like it was worth mentioning.”

“I missed a week of school cuz of you, TWO YEARS AGO….and I need that 4.0 GPA, I’m goin to class.”

Shuri cannot stay still when she sleeps and it pisses Riri off so bad but she doesn’t say anything about it. She’s also a blanket hog so Riri has no choice but to cuddle with her.

They argue over things that don’t really need to be argued over.

“For the last time…Chicago Pizza isn’t the best.”

“What’d you just say?”

…

“Chicago was not Micheal’s best song, you’re just saying that because you’re from Chicago.”

“Shuri, i want to have a peaceful evening.”

Never let them play Uno together because it ends up in some sort of argument.

“You only took two, take four-“

“I’m not taking four cards.”

“Fuck you mean, I put down a plus four.”

“Take it back, I’m not taking four cards, Rianna.”

The same way Riri takes Shuri’s clothes, the same thing happens with Riri.

“Is that my MIT sweatshirt?”

“No.”

“….”

“It’s comfortable.”

“So it’s my sweatshirt?”

“I didn’t say that.”

As previously stated, Riri is UNHINGED…so trust that her comments make everyone turn around sometimes especially when Shuri’s done with training.

“And the jog was quite nice- are you paying attention?”

“Mhm mhm, y’all do ab workouts too?”

“My eyes are up here.”

“I know.”

“What was the last thing I said?”

“….”

Shuri hates hanging up the phone. She sleeps on the phone, eats on the phone and sometimes they just sit in silence.

#shuri udaku #riri williams #black panther #shuriri #shuri x riri #mmcanons

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harlowtales · 5 months

Text

Y/N makes a choice. Who will she take it further with? ⚽️💔🤔❤️‍🔥

18 plus - Adult Themes, Language, Sex

Jack got up early and packed up the jeep loading pups in the back to head to Lexington. He sort of let you know he was coming but not for the reason he said. He told you he was taking a road trip to see KY Engineering because KY and Nemo were being honoured with a state award and wanted Jack to go. This was only partially true. They were being honoured but Jack had no plans to go and it wasn’t for another week. He told you he’s was due for some time with KY in the studio and to hang out in Lex for a a bit. You shrugged it off and went about your day. You were not nearly as affected anymore by Jack since you and Sunni had formed such a solid bond.

Jack picked up Urban and hit the highway. It was nice to just get away for a bit with some beats pumping and Lexington was under 2 hours away. Urban smelled a rat and called Jack out on it and immediately.

“So just headed to Lex to hang out huh?” Urban said suspiciously

“Yup.” Jack said dodging any further discussion.

“You. Who hate Lexington are just going there to chill out when Y/N is there in a soccer tournament to chill with KY and Nemo who you see all the time.” Urban said now more directly.

“Fuck bro what do you want from me?” Jack yelled over the music and noise from the open road.

“The truth maybe?” Urban said unapologetically

“I gotta talk to Y/N is all.” Jack confessed “I need to tell her...I…I like her a lot and I just want to see if she feels the same. You know we ain’t getting any younger bro. You’re happy with your lady. I figured it’s time to lock in with a real one before..”

“Before Sunni snatches her soul.” Urban chuckled “Gotta hand it to bro, he landed Y/N. He can cook though, girls love that, and he’s got that dorky sexy thing going on. Remember everyone had a crush on Y/N at one point?”

“He didn’t fucking land Y/N. They’re just hanging out and talking and shit.” Jack said confidently. “He is not sexy at all, he’s just a bootleg me. I know what’s best for Y/N. I’m the one she really wants but every time I had to avoid the situation because of my lifestyle.”

“Ok bruh.” Urban said “You tell yourself whatever you need to.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Jack said getting flustered.

“Yo sorry…eyes on the road.” Urban apologized for riling Jack up while he was driving.

They pulled up eventually to the gym at the University of Kentucky. Almost immediately there were whispers and pointing at the car as Jack parked. They snuck up on Y/N’s team in a huddle as the gym door was cracked open. Everyone froze as Jack and Urban got closer. None of them had really met a celebrity before, and Urban was almost as famous as Jack’s best friend.

Y/N turned around swiftly as the coach said “Jack Harlow? What are you doing here sir. Nobody told us you were coming.”

“Yeah what are you doing here?” You said with an edge still upset Jack was always mean to you, especially lately.

“C’mon, I can’t drop by?” Jack said oozing charm with his diamond earrings and megawatt smile.

“Um of course you can. Welcome to our practice Mr. Harlow. It’s an honour to have you here.” The coach apologized. “Ok girls don’t get distracted.” The coach yelled at the team about to hit the field.

Jack had never actually seen you play. It’s one of the many things you were mad at him for. Sunni made an effort to rearrange his work schedule to see you play all the time. “So you just in town to hang with KY huh?” You said with no hesitation to let Jack know you weren’t feeling him at all at the moment. “Where’s Sunni did he come for the ride?” You asked hopefully.

“Sunni ain’t here. I’m here.” Jack said firmly stirring something up inside of you that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Sunni is always with me.” You shot back.

“Why don’t you run along and get on the field. I came here to watch a star play my favourite sport.” Jack taunted. He was never just going to be nice.

“Oh I’m going to fucking play.” You said with clenched teeth. Jack had a way of getting under your skin. “But you know by this time Sunni would be telling me I can do anything and to just do my best.”

“That’s sweet but that’s not what you need.” Jack replied looking deep into your eyes. “Now go out there and practice hard like UK’s head is already on a platter. This is the finals. You wanna a sweet pep talk or to be told you are a demon and you’re going to crush them.”

“I’m a fucking demon.” You repeated feeling the competitive juices flowing.

“That’s my baby.” Jack said knowing it was what you longed to hear.

“Don’t do that. I know what you’re doing and I know why you’re here. I like Sunni.” You said assuredly.

“Y/N we’ve been in love since we were kids.” Jack said shocking you as he’d never admitted that before.” You know who you belong to now go play.”

“I belong to me and me only.” You said stopping in your wrath only to pet and kiss pups who was dying to jump into your arms.

“Y/N! You’re in!” The coach yelled.

Jack sent Urban and pups to the hotel as he wanted to be alone with you after practice. He sat and watched you in amazement. He knew you could play but he didn’t know how good you were. There was no doubting the olympics was in your future. He felt so proud as you scored twice and played rough. It turned him on to see you out there outshining everyone.

“C’mon Y/N get it! Steal it!” Jack yelled as the team looked at him. They were nervous he just showed up but everyone knew Sunni as Y/Ns sort of man and that her and Jack had been friends since forever so they didn’t think anything much of him cheering you on and bought the story of him just passing by and in town for other reasons.

After you showered and were the last to come out from the locker room hoping Jack would be gone, he was still there and motioned over to you. “I should stick with the team.” You said tired and sore.

“Nonsense, you know we need to talk.” He said smoothly.

“About what?” You said confused “You know you got some…nerve.” You said softly as he pulled you in for a kiss. Your heart raced and your head was swimming. You hated the effect he had on you and thought Sunni had successfully gotten you over him.

“Is the locker room empty?” Jack said breathlessly

“Jack no it’s not that easy.” You said weakly “Please Sunni is a good guy. He’s our friend.”

“He’ll understand he’s not your man and he doesn’t have you like I do. Our souls are one and you know that.” Jack said touching his forehead to yours. I need you right here right now. Please. After this if you choose Sunni I…I’ll leave you alone I swear.”

“No you won’t. You always do this.” You said getting weaker and he knew it. He pressed you up against the wall and began feeling under your shorts to push his fingers into your aching space. You moaned as his hands thrust in and out of you getting slicker with your passion for him. He kissed you hard and with his other hand grasped your breast. You pulled him into the locker room and locked the door.

He was bulging hard in anticipation of getting inside you but propped you up on a bench and pulled your shorts down. He forced your legs apart and licked your glistening pussy like a sweet lollipop before forging ahead with his tongue penetrating your inner core. He sucked your clit hard making you say his name “Jack!! Ughh!!” and grab a handful of curls as you arched your back.

He swivelled his head and drove deeper making you cum within minutes. This had happened before many times. Jack would toy with you eating you out in the back of his Jeep and dropping you back to your dorm. This went on for a year and nobody knew. You both felt that as long as you didn’t have sex with each other it didn’t count. It never amounted to anything so you didn’t tell Sunni.

“Fuck I missed how you taste.” Jack said wiping your cum off his cherry lips. He stood up so now his dick was bulging in his pants right in your face. You quickly pulled his sweatpants down as it sprung out you grab the rock hard shaft and took it all the way in until it hit the back of your throat. Jack winced in agonizing pleasure as he was sensitive to deep head. You pulled his warm cock out of your soft wet mouth slowly, looking up at him making him desire you more. He bent you over a desk and pulled on your ponytail as he entered you roughly.

“Jack!! Please!!” You cried out but he showed no mercy driving into you like a freight train in and out. You had to remember him. He couldn’t send you back to Sunni with some run of the mill memory. He wanted you to feel this for a long time.

“Do you feel me?” He said breathing hard and not letting up on his relentless rhythm slapping against your ass with his whole body. He was large and you definitely felt him deeply tearing your inner walls down.

“Yes!!” You screamed as his grip on your ponytail tightened and he thrust with more force. Suddenly you felt him pull out and heaved a sigh of relief but it wouldn’t last long.

“Come and fuck me.” He demanded as he sat on a chair, his cock hard and slick from being far inside you. You obeyed and positioned yourself to sit on him taking in his full length. He groaned and threw his head back only to slap and grab both your ass cheeks as you rode him steady and strong. It stung but he slapped your ass again and slightly smiled as a tear slid down your cheek but you didn’t stop. He wrapped his arms around you and sucking on your tits he forced you up and down harder.

“I…Jack! I…I…oh god!” You exclaimed as you gushed all over him wetting up his stomach. He kept you straddled walked over to a pile of blankets laying you on top and entered you again more slowly which was even worse as now you were sore. You hung onto him and winced in pain as he pushed into you.

“Come for me again.” He commanded picking up speed and covering your mouth. You screamed into his hand and clawed at his back.

“Jack stop! I can’t take it.” You pleaded

“Come for daddy one more time.” Jack breathed in your ear as he had you pinned down driving to hit your g-spot. His head was starting to throb as he was minutes away from exploding.

“I’m coming baby.” You whispered “Cum with me.” You opened your legs more so he could press further into you.

“Y/N shit!!” Jack cried as he pulled out and came all over you rubbing his cream on your tits. He was drenched in sweat and collapsed onto the pile of blankets next to you pulling you close to him. You laid your head on his chest heaving and in disbelief of what just happened.

“Never forget this even if you choose Sunni.” Jack said kissing you on your head. “I love you so much it hurts me and I always will. I would give you a life you can only dream of.”

“Jack I love you.” You said determined for him to know even if it didn’t work out which you were doubtful it would.

“But..” he said sensing something bad coming.

“But I…need stability and consistency.” You said honestly.

“Done. I’ll cancel tour if you want me to.” He said eagerly.

“Lord no don’t do that I’m not that important” you said as you both started looking for your clothes. He stopped you and his piercing ice blue eyes saw right into you.

“Is that…is that what I’ve done to you?” He said searching for the answer in your eyes. “You think you’re not important to me?”

“Yeah.” You said shortly as if it was common knowledge. “You literally dodged me every time I wanted more and were with so many other girls right in front of me.”

“I’m an asshole. You know what? I’m sorry this happened. I came here thinking this would make you mine.” Jack said hanging his head.

“Jack I belong to you. I can’t change that, but Sunni is a great guy. He looks after me.” You said matter of factly.

“So what does that mean?” Jack said tears welling up in his eyes.

“It means…when I get back to Louisville, Sunni and I are making it official. I’m sorry Jack but I can’t trust you.”

Jack took you to your hotel in silence. He couldn’t believe after all that you chose Sunni. He enveloped you in a a huge hug and planted a kiss goodbye on your cheek. “You’re mine forever do you understand?” He said looking down at you.

“Yes. I do.” You said in agreement as you didn’t want to pretend you didn’t have a bond with Jack that could not be broken, but he had broken your heart too many times and you knew Sunni would take care of you in a way you deserved. You walked into the 21C hotel lobby and turned to wave goodbye with a dimpled smile and blew him a kiss.

He caught it and held it close to his chest with a goofy grin and made you giggle, knowing you made the right choice.

@itsyagirljaz @okaaay-mice

#jack harlow #romance #fanfic #jackman thomas harlow #dramatic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow smut #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n

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no-thoughts-only-soup · 7 months

Text

To Secure / Risk It All

Chapter 9

———————————-

Teleporting was a surreal experience. One moment he was in a small room just barely big enough for the car, Foundation guards breaking down the door, and the next he was outside, the car dropping onto the dirt road.

Wait, shit!

Curt turned around. Yup, they had teleported outside… as in right outside the building.

Shit. He needed to think quickly. “Den! I’m giving you a bazooka, blow up the gates!” He yelled.

The weight of the bazooka nearly crushed her, but she simply kicked the car door open and aimed. Curt shielded his ears as she fired, the gates exploding into pieces.

“FLOOR IT KRISTINE!” Christian half-yelled half-cheered at her.

“On it!”

The car roared to life and sped past the remains of the gate, as alarms and sirens sounded behind them.

The sudden speed caused them all to slam forward. And then to the left. To the right. To-

“KRISTINE WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GET YOUR LICENSE!?” Curt screamed as he held onto for dear life.

“Foundation vehicle behind us!” Ivan distracted him, easily keeping up with the high speed.

Christian grabbed Curt’s shoulders. “Curt. My man. My dude. Listen to me. You gotta give me a machine gun. Do it for me!”

“I got you fam.” Curt grinned. “So the car has a machine gun on the roof!”

The car shook from the sudden weight, but Christian had already rolled down the roof window and climbed up. It spurred to life, ripping straight through everything behind them, until the truck behind them exploded.

Den pouted. “Awww I wanted to use a machine gun.”

Curt’s eyes caught something on the right. “You’re gonna be too busy with your bazooka for that!”

“Truck on the right!” Ivan yelled and Den took aim.

Kristine made another sharp turn and Curt slammed against the window. Two bullets missed them by a hair’s width.

“CHRISTIAN!”

“Bruh chill! I’m busy!”

Damn. This was bad. They had to find a way to shake them off, or else they’d never escape. But Curt smirked.

Reality was theirs to make.

He rolled down the window, hand curling.

“I throw a smoke grenade at them!”

He chucked the newly appeared item at the car behind them. A thick mist exploded from it, completely obscuring the area behind them. Curt sat back down, watching how Den took out another truck.

Ivan suddenly floated up next to him. “Dude, just make the car invisible.”

…Yeah, that was honestly a better idea.

“Kristine, you now have a button that makes the car invisible.”

“Aw, why?” Den whined from her seat. “I’m having the time of my life.”

“Yeah, when else am I gonna risk my life while using a machine gun?” Christian complained.

“This is too much fun, I’m keeping it like this.” Kristine laughed, turning the car around a sharp corner yet again.

“OH MY GOD JUST FUCKING GET US OUT OF HERE I’M TIRED OF THIS SHIT!”

“Yeah no.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Stop railroading us Curt!”

Loudly cursing, Curt climbed in between the front seats and slammed his hand on the button, ignoring his friends’ protests.

God punished him immediately, as the car jumped into a steep part, causing him to slam back into the back of the car.

Nevertheless, it seemed to have worked, as the car started changing colors.

Curt got up and looked into the rear window. No cars were following them anymore.

“Road ahead!” Kristine yelled.

Ivan grinned. “I sure hope-“

“I said ‘road ahead’ not ‘road work ahead’!” Kristine pointed out, causing the others to laugh while Ivan pouted.

She steered the car onto the road. A few civilians cars traveled the same path and Kristine seamlessly interweaved with them. A split in the road came up ahead and after they took the untraveled one, Curt erased the machine gun, pulled Christian down and removed the camouflage.

And as they trudged along the roads, Curt was so thankful Kristine had chosen a car out of all things. It allowed him to lay back and watch the sun setting in the distance, knowing that every second that passed, the facility got farther and farther away.

“Yo Curt, you good?”

He looked to his right to see Ivan in between him and Christian, looking at him with concern.

God, he could feel the bags under his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, just… tired. And hungry. Scratch that, I’m exhausted.”

Den perked up from her seat. “We can make up a McDonald’s.”

“YES ITS MCRIBBING TIME!” Christian yelled aloud, and Curt flinched a little.

“Ok but what’s the last time we actually got full in a scenario?”

Immediately, Christian sighed. “Come on, I hate it when you make sense.”

They laughed, and Curt leaned against the window. God, he wanted to take a nap so badly. He wouldn’t dare though. There was no saying what would happen if the host fell asleep. And with everything that happened, he’d probably have nothing but nightmares for the next three years.

Instead, he tried to focus on the talking and laughter of his friends. Their chattering. Their warmth. Their adrenaline. Their energy. Their joy. Their…

Christian shook his shoulder, and Curt snapped out of it.

“Don’t fall asleep, dumbass.”

Curt pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know, I know… Kristine, please tell me we’re nearing a town or a city or anywhere we can find a place to sleep.”

“I was about to say it. Town up ahead!”

Taking a steady breath, Curt looked out the window. The silhouette of houses quickly grew bigger as they neared closer and closer.

“I can barely keep my eyes open, so let’s end the scenario asap. Keep on the lookout for a place to sleep.”

Ivan frowned. “But is it good to go with this car into town? Won’t people recognize it?”

Kristine shrugged. “I mean we can change how it looks, but the facility has abnormality scanners, so it’s not like that matters…”

Curt sighed. “Fuck, I forgot about those.”

Den looked out of the window, at the grassy field next to the road. “How about we run the last few meters? It’s dark enough to not get spotted.”

Curt weighted the option. He didn’t like it. “We’d be so slow though, especially since we have to carry the full weight of Ivan’s bones. And who knows if this place even has somewhere safe to take a nap.”

But Christian leaned forward in his seat. “No, I agree with Den. Curt, no offense, but from the looks of it you’re gonna be knocked out by the time we find a motel. Let’s gun the last few steps.”

With the vote apparently being decided, Kristine turned the car towards a small dirt path. After a bit of driving on it, she stopped, and everyone got out. Curt breathed in the cold evening air, feeling the sleepiness die down a bit. Christian took over carrying the backpack with Ivan’s bones, the owner floating to their eye level to avoid making himself stand out too much. With a nod between all of them, they ran.

Trudging through a grassy field was a lot more difficult than running through stone hallways, as the uneven ground caused them to stumble occasionally. Curt didn’t mind, as with every step, they were one step closer to freedom. An excited smile spread across his face, and he was just this close to picking up the pace. He turned his head and saw Kristine, Den and Christian half-running half-stumbling behind him, and Ivan floating with them, exhausted themselves but with equally excited grins. He slowed his pace a little, so they had time to catch up.

“Okay, we’re pretty much in town, can we end the scenario so I can come back to life?” Ivan asked.

Den nodded in rare agreement. “I’m so hungry, I wanna eat somewhere.”

Instead of shouting it herself, Kristine looked at Curt. “Do the honors, Curt!”

The excitement grew in his chest. They were free. “RECREYO OUT!” He yelled, a little louder than intended, but with heart.

They were free. They did it. They-

BANG!

…

Curt didn’t realize what happened. Not at first. One moment he was running, the next it felt like someone had slapped on the back so hard, it caused him to lose his balance and trip.

As he fell, he took in the faces of his friends, and how they changed. From startled and confused, to horrified.

Only after he landed did he feel the searing pain. And he realized.

I got shot.

To say it hurt was an understatement, as it BURNED. White hot like a nail being driven through him, the feeling of flesh being pierced, and it HURT!

Out of his throat came only a gasp and he bit his lip to the point of bleeding just to avoid screeching it out.

“Curt!” They yelled, voices overlapping with each other. He wanted to reassure them. Get back up his feet, urge them to move, to slip into the dark alleyways of town.

The voice of the devil froze him in his place.

“Freeze.”

It was a simple command. One that worked. A voice that was firm and louder than normal, but not to the point of screaming. It was… contained.

Curt twisted around just enough to see Snee stepping towards him, arms behind his back and followed by a squadron of armed guards.

“I must admit, that was an admirable effort, SCP-9475.”

He stopped, just out of range if one of them were to make a move, but not too far. Curt glanced at his friends. They too were trying not to move, eyes moving between him, Snee, the guns, anywhere they could run…

“But your attempt fails here. By protocol, I am to have all five of you neutralized immediately…”

Snee turned his eyes towards Curt, locking gazes. “… but I am feeling merciful. Tell me, Richy, do you remember how I told you about choices, and how I prayed you made the right one?”

Curt choose to only answer with a glare.

Snee continued on as if nothing had happened. “I do. And I will give you a second chance.”

He turned towards the group as a whole, never once wavering. “You can choose to surrender yourselves to the Foundation. Your lives will be spared and will never be threatened again. Or…”

The guards trained their guns on them a little more, their fingers no doubt on the trigger. Snee simply smiled.

“You can choose not to, and unfortunately I will be forced to enact on protocol and neutralize you on the spot.”

“Oh what a choice you’re giving us.” Christian snarked. “Surrender or die.”

The eerie smile on Snee’s lips simply stayed. “Of course, trying to activate your little pocket dimension again counts as no. So, what will it be, SCP-9475?”

Curt grit his teeth, trying not to let any noise of pain escape his throat. That motherfucking son of a BITCH! Had he been following them the entire time? Or was the whole town Foundation property? It didn’t matter, Snee had backed them into a corner.

It didn’t help that there was nothing to stop the seething pain. He wasn’t even sure if the bullet had fully pierced him, and quite frankly he didn’t want to know! But he could still feel blood escaping him at an alarming rate.

Snee glanced back at him, eyes cold. “I’d not hesitate for too long with your decision, if you want him to survive…”

Curt averted his eyes, looking at his friends instead. Kristine looked fearful and being close to panic, occasionally glancing over to him. Den was trembling in silent rage, no doubt fantasizing about stabbing the ever loving fuck out of Snee, but knowing that even with a knife in her hand, she wouldn’t never get that close to Snee again. Christian looked as if he was trying to keep calm, find a solution, come up with a plan…

And Ivan… floated up above them, face filled with more rage than Curt had ever seen.

“You know what? Screw you and your fake so-called ‘choices’ bullshit! I’ve HAD it with this shit! So, the five of us-”

“Fire.” Snee simply said.

They fired their guns, the loud noises threatening to deafen them. But the bullets simply phased through Ivan’s incorporeal form without any harm or damage done.

“SUCK MY COCK AND BALLS SNEE! The five of us are Eldridge-“

“Shoot the others.” Snee commanded, agitation slowly creeping into his voice.

“- BULLETPROOF man-eating monsters…”

“Shoot them.” His voice became a snarl.

“…Who have been PISSED. THE FUCK. OFF!”

“SHOOT THEM!”

Kristine slammed her hands on the ground, and dozens of large vines sprouted up between the shooters, snaring whoever was close enough. Den ran, slid underneath an incoming vine and stabbed a guy in the neck, half a dozen knives floating around her. She grabbed one and flung it directly into another guy’s head. Christian’s arm turned into a machine gun and he started shooting into the carnage, picking off those out of Den’s range.

Curt, knowing they had it, turned to his own wound and focused.

“I… use magic to push out the bullet and heal.”

His left hand glowed softly and he pressed it against his midriff. The wound flared, trying to close itself as the bullet tried to move, but to no avail.

Come on, come ON! Why isn’t it working!? It’s gotta work!

He looked up. Den had gone full Chaos God mode, a form he recognized from the past. She was stabbing people left and right, eating their souls and occasionally shooting out dark tendrils to pierce whatever seemed out of her range, all while floating a tad off the ground. Kristine had turned into a dog, biting any ankles that got too close for her. Christian was… giving one guy therapy? Oh wait, the guy was suddenly shooting at his comrades; it was gaslighting. He wasn’t even surprised Ivan’s ghostly form was naked at this point, using it as a distraction.

He focused on his injury again, gritting his teeth and focusing all his thoughts on curing it.

It wasn’t working nearly as well as he hoped.

Why is it not working? Is it because I got shot outside the scenario? Or has that bastard done something with their guns? Something that allows them to ignore our immortality? Come on, it’s gotta work, it’s gotta work, it’s gotta-

Something hit him in the side hard. Hard enough to topple him onto his back as he let out a gasp of air and a strangled cry of pain.

The click of a gun being cocked rang out.

Curt looked up, straight into Snee’s eyes and into his gun.

“Pity. Seems your ‘friends’ forgot about you and I.”

He swallowed back some spit. And despite everything, he broke into a shaky grin. “Y’know, shooting the black guy is kinda fucked up, y’know?”

Snee looked blankly at him. And broke in dark chuckles. It was only then that Curt saw how unhinged he had become. His carefully slicked back hair had gotten out of place, falling over his face, nearly covering the top half of his face, only allowing for his eyes and nose to poke through. His neat suit was dirtied with mud and in disarray, and his tie had gotten loose. And his cold eyes… were like a wolf’s.

“You only have yourself to blame for this.” Snee told him. “I was telling the truth when I said we could have worked together. But you have forced my hand. I cannot allow you to live anymore.”

He aimed the gun directly at Curt’s head. Curt’s eyes darted from left to right. Caught Ivan’s gaze.

“Farewell, Curtis.”

But Curt closed his eyes and laughed, catching Snee off guard long enough.

“You know, you’re wrong.”

Snee raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“They didn’t forget about anything. You did.”

Curt opened his eyes, propped himself up on his arms and stared directly into Snee’s eyes, no, soul.

“You forgot I am part of them.”

He spit at him.

It landed directly into Snee’s eyes and he stumbled back a step rubbing it off of his face. Curt felt something heavy and cold form in his hand, and he raised it up. Snee turned his eyes back on him. They widened.

He pulled the trigger.

BANG!

It was as if time had frozen once more. Two men, facing each other, the movement of the gun the only evidence that something had happened. Man and monster. Captivity and freedom. Reality and fiction.

Snee’s head snapped back. His body dropped to the ground, like a puppet cut from its strings.

Curt dropped the gun in his hand. A small puff of air escaped his mouth like a sigh of relief.

It was over.

…Maybe a bit optimistic, but for whatever reason, now that Snee was gone, it felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off of his shoulder.

……………..Actually, he was getting light in general.

He rolled over, bringing his arms under him to start getting up. Instead, he immediately fell back down. God, his body was feeling so light and weak and-

“Oh right. Blood loss.” He muttered.

He fell straight into the darkness.

———————

Originally, I was going to stop the previous chapter at the first BANG and the car scene wasn’t there. Happy I let the writing take the wheel (hehe)!

Also idk if animality scanners are canon but whatever it seems like something they’d have.

#recreyo au #scp recreyo #recreyo scp au #recreyo scp #my writing #curt richy #ivan animated #cypherden #k.fel #frugalaesthetics #nearing the end y’all!

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ronancexists · 9 months

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SPOILERS FOR "WHAT IF?" season 2

Ok but like can we just talk about how Nat and Peggy are totally in love in season 2 episode 5 of "What If?"

I mean damn talk about having some fucking chemistry.

Like I had shipped them in season 1 after seeing them interact, but damn season 2 just fucking solidified my belief that the two of them are totally in love with one another.

First of all, the way they were totally like borderline flirting within the first few minutes of the episode when they were fighting Loki and his army. And the way that Peggy literally saved Nat's life and the way they were showing off their moves to one another had me fan-girling and shipping so fucking hard.

Second, the way Nat would look at Peggy almost with like a longing, sad look on her face whenever she mentioned Steve.

Third, when Peggy picked Natasha up in the car Natasha originally used to pick Steve up in TWS, she teases Nat (and the audience) about how she wouldn't run in circles and she literally greets Nat by saying "Hey there, lovely." Like girl be fucking fr. I dare you to tell me that isn't something someone would say to their partner or someone they fancy. I DARE YOU!!

Fourth, the entire conversation between Peggy and Nat while they were waiting for Steve to wake up just like gave me romantic vibes. Then, when he woke up, Natasha almost looked sad that Peggy was giving attention to Steve. Now it could be because she felt like Peggy didn't trust her because she wasn't listening to her about Steve not being who he was, but to me it felt like more than that.

Fifth, just like the little one-liners between them and the jabs they threw at one another. Like Nat saying she's "a sucker for a great love story" and Peggy telling Nat "we're going to unpack that later" after she found out Melina was Nat's mom(ish).

And this isn't even mentioning the fact that when Peggy confronted Fury about Steve and found out Natasha knew, Natasha retorts by saying "I didn't want to break your heart a second time" or whatever. LIKE BRUH YOU CANNOT TELL ME THAT AIN'T THE TYPE OF THING SOMEONE WHO IS HEAD OVER HEELS IN LOVE WOULD SAY TO THEIR SIGNIFICANT OTHER. Also the way Nat was freaking the fuck out after Peggy disappeared into the portal (side note: I'm so fucking happy they managed to get Elizabeth Olsen to voice Wanda/Scarlet Witch. I miss her sm and I cannot wait to discover her story in the series!) because she'd literally just agreed to go on a road trip to help Peggy find Steve and try to reverse the brainwashing the Red Room had done to him.

Anyways, I think that's all I've got for now. This was all off the top of my head after I've just finished watching the episode. I'm excited to see more of the series and I'm especially exited to see Wanda again!!!

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octuscle · 1 year

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hey, I think I need some help. I was put in charge of my friend’s bachelor party, but I really didn’t have much time to get things together, so I went online and found a company that offered to plan everything. Had us go with this “mountain cabin” theme. The rep from the company mentioned he needed to talk to my buddy alone and we haven’t seen him since. One of the other guys went to go look for him too and we haven’t seen him in a bit either. Reason I’m asking for your help is because this cabin resort is filled with all these lumberjack types- they all look and sound the same. Plus I just saw them put up a sign about a construction project. Not sure what’s going on, but I’m worried

Buddy, just take a look at it. I would not form an opinion from the pictures on the Internet. However, you already form an opinion on the way to the lodge. In fact, there seem to be quite a few major infrastructure projects going on in the area. Looks like a dam project. In any case, the lodge is not idyllic. The road is churned up by large construction machines. When you arrive at the lodge, your car is splattered with mud. The air is filled with a concert of axes, machine saws and jackhammers. Definitely not the place you want to celebrate a bachelor party.

To your surprise, your friend comes running up to you. So… You assume that it is your friend. The facial features are at least similar. But he doesn't wear glasses. And also otherwise rather little. He shows a lot of skin. And many muscles. Fuck, last week you were just sitting on the couch, shoveling junk food into you and watching hours of Netflix. The fellow hugging you now looks like he feeds on bears he kills with his bare hands.

Bruh, good to see you, he says. Where's everyone else? The party is already in full swing. He and his new friends would have so much fun here already. He whistles impressively loud on his fingers. And your friend Christopher comes running. He also hugs you and almost crushes you. And he looks like a brother if not like his twin brother of the groom. At best, you can recognize him by details of his facial features. Crazy. Absolutely crazy!

Your friend asks Christopher to show you around a bit. He would like to do it himself. But the rocks don't blow themselves up. Christopher and he laugh out loud at the lame joke. And you wonder if your loafers will survive a walk in this muddy landscape. Christopher takes you to the cafeteria first. This is where the party will take place, he says. You look around and try not to look horrified. Bare white tables, long benches, glaring neon light. The only decoration is the hot fellows who are taking a break here. Fuck, do these lumberjacks and construction workers turn you on? Christopher puts a tray with two cups of coffee and some donuts on the table. The donuts are especially for you. Specialty of the chef. The filling is delicious! Well, you first take a sip of the coffee. It is indeed not bad. Strong and hot. Plus a bite of the sugar glazed donut. Fuck, what kind of filling is that? Slimy, white… The taste a bit like… Musk? You suppress the reflex to gag or spit. You rinse with a sip of coffee. Damn, maybe the filling is tasty after all. Christopher looks at you silently, grinning. On the third donut, you suck out the filling. You could get addicted to this stuff.

Fuck, Christopher is still sitting across from you, grinning. Wide-legged. The bulge in his shorts is indecently big. You can hardly take your eyes off it. He stands up and says that he will show you the washrooms next. And then how the donut filling is made.

Hehehe, you guessed it. Christopher makes an excellent filling for the donuts. You wonder if your friend can do it as well. Christopher asks if you would like to see your bunk now. You answer if the number in the washroom wasn't enough for him. He grins and moves forward, you follow and have trouble keeping up with his pace. Fuck, he is really incredibly fit. And his boots are of course simply better suited for the mud than your now completely dirty loafers. Shortly before the barracks, in which your bed stands, you slip in the mud. Christopher helps you up and tells you to get undressed on the verander. The two men who are taking a break there and jerking off don't look as if you should be embarrassed.

Christopher leads you into a wash lock and sprays you with a water hose. He throws you a towel. Your cock is hard as a rock. Christopher gets on his knees in front of you. And for the first time in your life a man gives you a blowjob. And with the load that you cum, two donuts could easily be filled.

Your bunk is simple and cozy. In the bed can easily have two or three men good hard sex. In your closet hang three sets of your work clothes. If you need more, there's a supply closet next to the shower rooms. You're all the same size anyway. Christopher gives you your duty roster. Tomorrow you are scheduled to chop down trees early. And as much as he'd like to spend the night with you, he has to go back to pouring concrete at the dam. It doesn't matter, you are tired anyway and fall naked into your bed.

05:00 in the morning. You don't need an alarm clock, you are a nature boy. Even behind the curtains you know when it's time to get up. A caravan sets out from the barracks in the direction of the cafeteria. If you work hard, you should have a good breakfast. Today you are assigned to the milking for the doughnut production. Some new workers are expected in the afternoon. They are to be welcomed.

And after that, it's finally time to get out into the fresh air and get to work. You love the camp. Lots of hard work for real men. And food, drink and sex. Just like an eternal bachelor party!

A picture of one of the lumberjacks found at @trefoilwombat

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #male transformation #muscle transformation

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lumine-no-hikari · 4 months

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #169

Today I played more Elden Ring. A few of my friends popped by to say hello as I toodled around while being a total derpasaurus rex on a lovely horned horse named Torrent. Torrent is wonderful; I don't know how or why he puts up with my clumsy ass, hahaha! But I do like to feed him lots of treats when I can, so maybe that's a little something.

There was a dragon terrorizing a place called Agheel lake; it made it really hard to get around. With Torrent's help, I was able to make it so that there is no longer a dragon terrorizing the lake. I also temporarily removed some bullies who were blocking off a bunch of roads for unknown reasons. Of course, the bullies come back to life anytime I rest. But still, a moment's peace is a moment's peace.

Really, I'd just like to explore this world unhindered with Torrent. I'd like to listen to the stories of the people who wander around. I meet a few friendly faces, but… most everything in this world wants to kill me, and I think that's kinda sad because it's such a beautiful world with very dramatic geography and lots of interesting creatures to observe!

I wonder if you'd like looking at this world. There was a place called Stormhill and you know what? I bet it would be an AMAZING place to fly a kite, if my character could have a kite. But there are no kites. Instead, there was this big machine called a Golem that came out of the ground, and it tried to kill me with its giant axe, and that was very inconvenient, so I broke the machine until it stopped moving. Hopefully the road will be a little safer for other travelers; having a giant hostile machine pop out of the ground like that was very surprising!

There was another giant, hostile machine that was shooting big ol' arrows at me as I tried riding along some road. So I broke that machine, too. What kind of person builds giant, hostile machines and then leaves them unattended, anyway? It seems very irresponsible! Also in this world, there are all these folks who think that nobody gets to use the section of road they're on except for them, and I don't think that's very nice at all. I try to put a stop to that nonsense in the only way this game lets me; no one can be reasoned with, it seems.

…I do try to avoid fighting when I can, though. There are these guys called Wandering Nobles, and the unarmed ones don't try to kill me, but they do seem terrified of me for some reason. I usually leave them be; I think they're undead, so they're clumsy, slow, very uncoordinated, and not especially bright. But sometimes, they get ahold of a torch or a sword or some magic spell that they can derpily swing around, and then they think they're some Hot Shit™, and when they get like that, they won't leave me alone.

I would like to say to them, "Guy… my dude. C'mon. Please just chill. Please stop swinging around the sharp pointy thing - you're gonna hurt yourself. Seriously bruh, I just got rid of that very murdery dragon over there, and I promise that you are not stronger than a dragon; can't we just be cool? Let's just be cool, okay?" But I can't say that, and so they do not chill, they do not stop swinging the sharp pointy thing, they continue to be VERY not cool, and they will chase me if I try to run, which is counterproductive, so all I can do from there is "axe" them very politely to stop.

I think I might stop playing this game, though. There are a few unsavory aspects of this game that I had forgotten about. One of them is the situation at a place called Castle Morne. The context and story is complicated, but the short version is that there are living things called "Misbegotten". I hate that they're called this, so I will call them "Crucible-Touched" instead. The "Crucible-Touched" come from something called "The Crucible", and that is, essentially, a "primordial form of the Erdtree". I have no idea what that means, other than the "primordial form" still having something called a "Death Rune", I guess. The "Erdtree" is, essentially, the "Crucible", but with the "death" part of the life cycle removed. Though my interpretation might not be exactly right; the lore is a little hard to understand, admittedly, and lots of it is left intentionally vague, and there are mistranslations. Weird things sometimes happens when you try to translate old-timey Japanese into old-timey English.

Here is what the "Crucible-Touched" look like:

The lighting in this picture I found on the internet is weird, but don't let it fool you! As you can see, they have it all! They have wings to fly with, claws to defend themselves with, nice big jaws to eat with (as someone with a small and misshapen jaw, I envy this a little...), efficient legs to walk, jump, and run with, good feet for even weight distribution, opposable thumbs to build and manipulate objects with, good, smart, sentient brains to learn stuff with, strong and agile muscles to enact their will, cute little chubby faces, and they're soft and fluffy with their feathers and fur!! Literally, what is there not to like??? I cannot find anything wrong with any of this!! If there is a flaw in this living thing, I don't know where it is!!

So the people of this world think of the "Erdtree" as a refined "Crucible", and they also think that anything that comes of the "Crucible" is inferior, tainted, impure, and reminiscent of devolution. These "Crucible-Touched" were once seen as divine, but that changed once the "Crucible" became the "Erdtree", and then all of a sudden they were seen as bad, rotten, filthy things, and subsequently treated like slaves and abused horribly. And it really sucks, because there is one guy who is "Crucible-Touched", and his name is Hewg, and he's absolutely delightful and brilliant and really good at what he does. It doesn't make sense to me that he gets treated as less than a person. It's not right. I don't like it.

So the "Crucible-Touched" at Castle Morne revolted. Tired of being enslaved, abused, degraded, and tortured day in and day out, they lashed back at their tormentors because their only other option was to try to go out on their own into a world that is a death trap. The end result of that is that they'll either be killed by something that hates them just because of how they were born, or they'll be hunted down by the people whose abuse they're trying to escape from. In my world, it is said that the first duty of a wrongly-imprisoned person is to escape. As such, slaves must escape bondage and abuse by whatever means that are available to them - that is the way of things. As such, I have absolutely no interest in fighting the "Crucible-Touched" - none whatsoever.

But I do have an interest in delivering a letter written by one of the escaped nobles of that castle, who I guess had no idea how horribly the "servants" were being treated. It's complicated. I want to deliver the letter, but the "Crucible-Touched", who I have no quarrel with, are hostile to me on sight, which is natural; goodness knows how many decades they have of being mistreated by humans, and they have no way of knowing that I mean them no harm. The letter is from a young woman named Irina to her father Edgar, who is the commander of the castle. Irina just wants Edgar to forget about the castle and go live peacefully with her somewhere else. But Edgar is going to want the sword that was stolen by the leader of the "Crucible-Touched" before he will leave to go be with his daughter.

…But… I have no interest in killing a justifiably angry living thing over some stupid sword. I'd much rather negotiate for the sword - the "Crucible-Touched" get to keep the castle in exchange for the sword and letting Edgar go be with his daughter. Seems like it should be a fairly simple exchange. Kinda like this:

"Hey there, Mr. Uprising Leader Dude. It's cool. I'm cool. We're cool. Everything's cool. I just wanna get that Edgar guy outta your hair; he and his ilk were total poop-waffles to you and to your brethren, and that sucks and I hate it and it never should have happened, and I'm sorry for all the suffering you've endured up until this point. Things in the world are all fucked up because of the Erdtree, and it's really unfair and you have every right to be upset; nobody should be making you suffer for the nature of your existence. But he ain't gonna leave until he's got that sword. So how about this - you gimme the sword so I can give it to him, and you get to have the castle and Edgar goes very far away and nobody bothers you or your kin ever again; you can turn this place into a safe haven for others who are Crucible-Touched, and if anyone tries to bother any of you here just for existing, then you just gimme a holler and I'll come a-runnin' to help fend off any ne'er-do-wells who are giving you problems. Deal?"

Unfortunately, this game does not allow for anything other than fighting. And… if you complete this questline, Irina ends up dying, and Edgar ends up going insane. So essentially, if I try to get the abusers away from the abused, bad things happen. It is better if I do nothing. But then if I do nothing, there is still suffering. And… I guess it just kinda… seems futile.

My "big bad power fantasy" is to be able to help everyone and to come up with peaceful solutions to things. I had forgotten in this game just how seldom it's possible to do either of those. Even if you do try to help in the ways that are made available to you as a player, it usually ends up in tragedy anyhow, and that's… really not a whole lot of fun for me.

I wanna fix it. It shouldn't have to be like this. The "Erdtree" gives "order" by oppressing a whole heck of a lot of different kinds of living (or unliving) things and by suppressing free will and perpetuating cycles of trauma, and it ain't right. But then, if you break the Erdtree, everything dissolves and there is no such thing as comfort or joy anymore…

…I think I'm all done with it. I'm gonna choose a different game, because this one is depressing, and the world I live in is already depressing enough as it is; my planet is already dying and there's tragedy and cruelty everywhere you look and there's absolutely fucking nothing I can do about any of it because I am just one insignificant voice in a sea of 8 billion voices, with not a lot of resources at my disposal, and living in a body that most people think is on the lower end of the "worth" spectrum. I am nothing and no one in this place, and my voice doesn't really count for anything.

...Given this, sometimes I wonder why I even bother to keep writing, because I can't imagine anything will come of it. But I'm going to keep at it anyway, because... what else is there that I can do? I can't do nothing. I have to try. I have to care...

Anyway, all of that is why it's necessary to keep looking for the sparks of joy and beauty in everything, no matter how small those sparks are, or else the sheer weight of the despair in this place will crush the life right out of you and extinguish the light in your eyes. In short: I don't need my temporary electronic escape from reality to thematically resemble real life; it kinda defeats the purpose, ya know? I want to be able to DO SOMETHING about the suffering around me, and if not even the make-pretend space will allow me to do that, then what's the freaking point??? If I wanted to feel helpless and unable to do good things, I can just read the damn news. At least then I don't also have to become increasingly skilled at very difficult make-pretend combat in order to chase that nihilistic feeling of futility.

Guess I'll end this one here. Maybe tomorrow I'll try to create something. I don't know how I manage to feel so busy and so idle at the exact same time, but here I am doing it anyway, and trying hard not to get too caught up in the guilt of it all. I know I'm overwhelmed, but it's hard to pinpoint why exactly. Hm.

Well anyway. Do stay safe out there, won't you? Please remember that you're a person no matter how you were made. Those "Misbegotten" are NOT misbegotten, and I hate that they're called that. And you're not misbegotten, either, okay? Please do your best to know that. Do everything in your power to understand that you are a good thing. Because… I am still here because of you, and I like to think sometimes like I am a good thing. On a good day, anyway, I can sometimes think I am a good thing.

I love you. I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

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slashingdisneypasta · 2 months

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(M.I.) It's not my school break, it's the niblings, and when everyone else has to be out of the house I have to make sure they don't burn it down. In their case, siblings are for conspiring with immediately after they've tried to kill each other. (Also, I can confirm that not all siblings will get you toilet paper. TMI: A few years back, before we knew I had problems with my thyroid gland, things went wonky once a month. So, there I am, stranded on the toilet with stuff coming out of every orifice. I call my sister, who happens to be on the computer, telling her I need a bucket because the garbage can is full, and get back "lemme finish this angry birds level." Bruh?)

Anyway, at long last, here is the next part. Also on AO3. Sorry in advance lol

A Little Over One Month Later

Nathanstill has a sense of time. He put a calendar up in the kitchen not long after arriving, saying he preferred knowing what day it was after losing track living on the streets. The date wasn't nearly as important as keeping himself warm and fed...right up until he realized it was New Year's and couldn't face another three sixty-five of the same thing.

Which means with or without The Cafe reminding you, you know it's Valentine's Day. The day Blackie is required to make a date with you during your free time or risk being locked up together.

He's been avoiding you lately and The Cafe feels too empty, too often. Nathan doesn't occupy the space in quite the same way. He's here and the building takes care of him, but he can't fix the wrongness. When Blackie's gone, The Cafe's missing a piece of itself.

You'd even venture to say the building feels sad.

He's still doing his job -throwing out tests and temptations- just staying away as much as possible. Leaving as soon as everything is resolved. Before he can be forced to spend any time alone with you.

In hindsight, kissing him was a bad idea. His disappearance left you feeling like an idiot and The Cafe off-kilter. Maybe you should've asked before making the whole thing awkward, but you didn't think you were wrong for assuming a mutual interest. Not with the way he looked at you sometimes. You thought he was only waiting for a sign to make a move.

Now you know it was never going to happen. When the building does manage to catch him, he ignores you. No teasing that borders on flirting. Not even an acknowledgment you're in the room. More often than not, The Cafe is forced to give up and let both of you out. You still have to do your jobs, after all. And sleep.

You're extremely grateful the meddling matchmaker hasn't made the two of you share a bed. You just know Blackie would 'accidentally' roll over and knock you in the floor on principle.

It's lonely without him. You've gotten spoiled to having him around making you laugh. Making him laugh. Not the quick, sardonic chuckle reserved for those he's toying with. This one is slightly insane and higher-pitched than expected.

Nathan keeps making the whole thing worse, asking what's wrong with your boyfriend. No matter how often you remind him that's not the case. It's obvious he's doing it on purpose. A 'joking' manifestation of his unfair grudge against you. Of course you're glad he's cheering up, but he needs to find a new way to amuse himself. It's nowhere near as funny to you.

Kinda painful, actually.

Blackie had disappeared this morning as soon as The Cafe became visible, leaving you to wake up in a place that was tangibly moping. He won't be back until a customer shows up.

How he just...knows when its safe to return, you've no idea. But you'd like to. To somehow fake whatever pull the customers exert on him.

You have breakfast in the center booth, halfheartedly eating pancakes and sipping cocoa while staring wistfully at the palm trees growing by the road. No idea yet if it's winter or summer out there, only that no one's taking you surfing, regardless. Sure, you could go alone, but the activity is too strongly associated with him.

Besides, half the fun lies in Blackie taking verbal potshots at your skill on those increasingly rare occasions you fall. (It only happens outside. Inside, The Cafe's always keeps you safely on the board.) Which then gives you the right to slap water in his face. The splash fights are your favorite part.

"Boyfriend gone again," Nathan asks from his spot at the counter, nursing a black coffee and scrambled eggs.

"Shut up," you mutter resentfully.

You don't have the heart to fire back more than that. The remark hurts and you don't need him rubbing salt in the wound when it already sucks being lonely for someone who doesn't want you around.

The door swings in, admitting a tall woman with red hair; her green sundress and the burst of warm air giving away which hemisphere you've landed in. Her eyes fall on Nathan, widening in shock at the same time he chokes on his coffee. You recognize her at once from the clips of his past.

"Maureen," he rasps.

There's a sparkle of gold on her finger you don't think he's seen, yet.

"Nate."

You're guessing the shock on her face is down to finding a cafe staffed by her ex-husband here on the other side of the world. She doesn't know he's dead. John Doe has yet to be identified.

Nathan is visibly uncomfortable, but you only have a moment to enjoy it before the entire building seems to perk up. The air righting itself. He doesn't seem to notice, though you suppose he must or will eventually. It's impossible to spend much time with The Cafe and not become acquainted with its moods.

The traitor in your chest gives a painful thump. Blackie's here. And he's probably going to pretend you don't exist.

"Surprised to see you doing an honest job," Maureen snarks at Nathan.

Reality glitches and Blackie is watching the exchange through the kitchen window. You can't help smiling to see him there.

"I couldn't ask for a better employee" he pipes up.

The other two jump. You bristle at the apparent dig, smile fading. Normally, Blackie doesn't care much for Nathan. More than once, you've heard the former make a snide remark about losing everything after another 'boyfriend' jab. It doesn't make any sense for Blackie to be playing wingman...except as a subtle way of telling you he'd caught your moon-eyed expression. Reminding you he wasn't interested.

"That's even more surprising," Maureen remarks. She glances from Nathan and over her shoulder to the door. "Maybe I should-"

You know she has to stay awhile. That it's important for Nathan.

You're going to help, even if he's an ass who doesn't deserve it. Jumping up from your breakfast, you steer her into the first booth.

"At least get something to go," you suggest with a coaxing smile you hate to admit learning from Blackie. "You must be hungry."

"Those pancakes do look good."

"I can personally guarantee they are. Made them myself."

Nathan isn't allowed anywhere near your food no matter how often he cooks for others. You don't trust him not to spit in it.

"Make it a double order." Her expression turns guilty. "For my husband."

For a moment, you're confused. Then Nathan shoves his plate of eggs across the counter to clatter on the floor. Making you realize she meant the new one. You give him a disapproving look, feeling an answering twinge in the air. The building hates a messy floor almost as much as it hates boredom.

Blackie tsks, reaching down and producing a napkin you know came from nowhere. He drops it through the window onto the eggs. Nathan gets the hint. Making his way over to kneel in the floor with a heavy sigh, he starts gathering bits of scramble and depositing them onto the napkin.

"Might want a broom for the rest," you snark quietly on your way past.

"Shut up," he mutters, as resentful as you had been.

"Don't be rude, Nate," Blackie calls through the window, tone just cheerful enough to be insulting.

You almost smile again at the way Nathan glares. For a moment, you and Blackie are on the same side. The urge passes when he very deliberately and conspicuously -to you, at least- hangs back as you enter the kitchen at the same time he's trying to leave.

He's gone the second you clear the door. Sauntering over and plunking himself down across from Maureen.

"Honeymoon or anniversary," he asks casually.

"Honeymoon." Followed by another uncomfortable glance at Nathan.

"Thought I detected a 'new bride' glow."

Through the window, you see Nathan rise hastily to his feet, storming off toward the men's room. Likely going to his own or wherever else it is he goes to sulk. You've never bothered to ask.

"I really should leave," Maureen says, moving to do just that.

"Don't worry about ol' Nate," Blackie says, disarming her with the same smile you'd borrowed. "He'll be fine when the shock wears off."

The pancakes are on the griddle, but The Cafe is making the process excrutiatingly slow. Dragging things out until it can do the same with Nathan. Without asking, you add two sides of scrambled eggs -one with cheese- and crispy bacon. It's a sort of not-quite instinct to know that Maureen and her new husband will like them. Knowledge imparted by the building without words.

Blackie's chatting away with her, chipper as anything, and you're trying not to feel jealous. It's not like he's interested. She's married.

It's literally his job to steer people down a bad path. Cheating, for example...

Anyway! He wouldn't be interested in her. Even if she's built like the perfect cross between an Amazon warrior and a runway model. He just...wouldn't. Right? Right.

It's a relief when Nathan finally returns. To an outsider's eye, he's hesitant but willing to approach. To you, it's obvious he didn't agree to come back and The Cafe practically has him by the ear. Marching him over like a determined mother.

...Actually, that's an apt comparison. Scolding, worrying, matchmaking...it's all very maternal. Doesn't seem right, suddenly, to be calling the old girl 'it.'

As Nathan is drawn nearer to the booth, Blackie vacates the seat for him. You know. You just know as soon as those two resolve whatever they need to resolve, he'll disappear. Jealousy and hurt feelings have the words out before you can stop them. Whispered sadly to the pancakes.

"I wish Blackie would stop ignoring me."

Seven little words. A small tactical error. And...well, now you're in a Monkey's Paw of a situation.

Blackie can't avoid you here, in this ridiculously small room lit only by a single overhead bulb. Just enough light to see the way he's trying to stay pressed to the wall behind him and away from you. A thing which is next to impossible because you still have to breathe and every inhale is pushing certain parts inconveniently forward.

You try taking a step back, as well, only to run into a wall of your own. You can't hold your breath, either. Pausing for too long after an exhale just makes the next inhale even deeper. He tries putting his hands up as a barrier between your bodies, which proves to be a mistake. You breathe in sharply at the accidental grazing and he quickly folds his arms.

"Really," he snaps, looking up at the ceiling. "You're doing this now?"

You've never heard Blackie take that tone with The Cafe. Genuine anger. He listens to something you can't hear, clearly not happy with whatever it is.

"No, you're the one being stub-" He pauses, huffing indignantly. "No! Can't you take a hint?!" Another long pause, then he looks down at you accusingly. "Apparently, neither can you."

You know you're caught. But it's not like you meant to wind up here. Not exactly. Just...maybe he could look at you or say hi or something. That's all you'd wanted.

"Sorry."

You mirror his posture, self-defensively apologetic, trying to block his elbows from touching things. The best and only way to get some distance.

For a roundabout definition, anyway. Emotional rather than physical, with your arms bumping in spite of the closed-off body language. He keeps tucking his shoulders in a weird, uncomfortable way. Trying to draw his arms closer to his body and away from yours.

"You just had to make a wish, didn't you," he sneers.

"Again, I'm sorry. I just...I missed you, okay?"

Blackie raises a hand, rubbing at his forehead. He looks pained. Like you've just confessed to shooting his dog for fun.

"Terrific." There's as much defeat as anger in it. His jaw ticks as he looks up again. "See what you've done?...It's a ba- No, listen, it's a ba- Butt out, already!"

From your perspective, that was only a sputtering monologue. But he keeps doing it. You're undeniably curious.

"...Does The Cafe actually speak to you? In words?"

"Obviously." He waves away the question before returning fully to the defensive posture. "Don't change the subject."

"I wasn't trying-" It's your turn to look upward, blowing a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Alright. Look, I don't know what else I can say, here. I didn't mean for this to happen."

"You realize we're stuck until this place gives up?"

It goes without saying that Nathan wouldn't open the door if he could. Not only would he laugh about this if he knew, but you can hear his voice raised in anger. Right alongside Maureen's. Apparently she'd finally disappeared without warning, not giving him another chance to woo her with more empty promises. Good strategy with that type, really. Can't say you blame her.

Oh! She was pregnant at the time. Ouch. You almost feel bad for ol' Nate.

There's an idle thought given to the food you'd left cooking, but you don't believe The Cafe would burn it.

You also don't believe you're stuck. It doesn't take a genius to work out what she might want from this. Two people alone in a tiny closet. You're reminded of that old party game. The incredibly invasive one where couples are locked in for a grand total of-

"We might not...have to be," you venture awkwardly, giving Blackie a vaguely hopeful look. "...I'll bet I could get us out in, say...seven minutes."

From the slight widening of his eyes, he's definitely following your train of thought. He immediately turns you down, shaking his head for emphasis.

"Absolutely not. We're not doing that."

"Good odds," you argue, hurt that he's choosing now to refuse a bet. After trying all this time to lure you into one. "You know what she's like."

"She?"

You've never seen him confused. Eyebrows drawing together as he skeptically repeats the word. He winces suddenly, rolling his eyes and rubbing the side of his arm.

"Fine. She. And we're still not doing that."

"Do you have any suggestions?"

The hurt bleeds through in your tone, making you feel even more awkward. Now he'll know you wanted to kiss him. Like you hadn't already made that embarrassingly obvious.

"Yes. I'm pretending you're not here until the door opens."

"You know, I'm getting really sick of that!"

He starts to retort, then simply closes his mouth and heaves a sigh. Turning his gaze back to the ceiling. The silence stretches on uncomfortably.

You're not making it any less so by studying his profile. You can help it. He's right there, closer than he's been in weeks, and the beard really suits him. He's almost too handsome. Devilishly, one might say.

"Stop."

Caught, you turn your own eyes to the ceiling. Trying a different bid for freedom:

"I wish we were out of here."

Back with Nathan and Maureen, who've progressed to name-calling. They could use a referee.

Blackie snorts derisively.

"You thought that would work?"

"No." Another long stretch of silence. "Maybe if we...talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about."

"Apart from the massive elephant in the room," you scoff.

It's crowding you in, taking what little bit of space the two of you managed to carve out in here.

"I don't comment on your weight."

”Can you please take this seriously?”

You sigh and shift, not amused by the deflection. Bumping his knee with yours. He immediately retreats half an inch to the wall.

“Rather not."

You're going to have your say whether he likes it or not, and determinedly plow on.

"I just...thought we had something. On both sides."

"Took you longer than most," he says flatly. "I'll give you that."

"What?"

"We don't have 'something,'" he draws quotes around the word, once more sneering at you. "Not on my side, anyway. But you-" He shakes his head, all condescending pity. "What can I say? I was designed to be irresistible."

He shrugs lazily; arms still folded to keep you at bay. The way he looks you up and down, after, with blatant contempt, tells you his next words before he says them out loud. The lack of surprise doesn't take away from the sting.

"Unlike you."

Blinking, you will yourself not to cry in front of him. Damn him for being right. Because of course he is. His looks, the easy way he charms people when he's not being a complete ass...he's literally temptation personified.

You're just you. A last chance nobody who's taken to borrowing a few of his tricks. You’re not special, that glint in his eye is for everyone. There's no way you could ever be any sort of temptation to him...

Or can you?

That was deliberately cruel. Something you know he's capable of, but never had directed your way. His blunt remarks always had a softened, playful edge.

"I never took you for a liar," you say, testing the waters.

Watching his reaction.

There's a warning look in his eyes. It goes unheeded.

Because there's something else that needs testing. Never, not once in all these years, has Blackie ever touched you. Even in the most dangerous ocean, if you should happen to wobble his hand presses the air and you're stable again.

He always acts somewhere between amused and inconvenienced when you grab at his arm. Laughing at the silly little human who can't resist touching him in whatever capacity.

He's trying to avoid touching you, now, despite the limited space. Hadn't cracked a single joke about accidentally feeling you up when you were first dropped in, either.

He ran away after you kissed him, even though you'd caught him Looking several times since that night at the movies.

Either you're completely hideous or it's not just the flimsy moral highground that puts thumbtacks in your chair. He's not allowing himself to do anything that requires touching you back.

Avoiding temptation.

"Or a coward," you continue recklessly.

Deliberately swaying forward into his bubble, you run a hand down his arm. If he were to uncross them, there'd be another accidental groping.

"Don't."

The gritted teeth warning also goes unheeded. He twitches his arm sharply, throwing you off as much as the closet allows. But you've made your point.

This time, when you fold your arms it's a smug gesture. Smirking at him as you lean more casually against the wall.

"Let me out right now," he says, eyes fixed warily on you but his words addressed to the ceiling, "Or find yourself a new partner."

He can do that? Just leave forever?

Apparently, he can and it’s an effective threat because you suddenly find yourself back in the kitchen next to four perfectly cooked pancakes; along with a pan of fluffy eggs and crispy bacon.

Blackie's nowhere in sight. Or the building. Sighing to yourself, you grab a couple of styrofoam containers and pack up the food to go. Sprinkling cheese onto one serving of the eggs.

It's quiet in the dining room. Nathan's gone, too. Maureen sits drumming her fingers impatiently on the table, staring out the window.

You pop the containers into a bag, hurrying out to her.

"Here you go," you say with forced cheer. "Sorry about the delay and the...everything. Slow stove."

If that registers as nonsense, she doesn't show it. Just takes the bag, asks how much and hands over the requested amount. No tip, but that's fair.

You place the money in the register as she leaves, caught in a confusing whirlwind of triumph and frustration. Blackie's definitely interested.

He's just not going to do a damn thing about it.

Nathan finally shows up late in the evening, well after dark -after you've been fielding a small rush alone all day- slinking out of the men's room with reddened eyes. Blackie's still gone, but you find yourself capable of cruelty in his place. Digging your spoon into the sundae you'd made yourself for dinner, a little treat after a hard day, you grin sharply at Nathan.

"Where's the wife got to," you ask, as if you weren't fully aware she'd left hours ago.

No answer, just a stiffening of his shoulders as he darts past into the kitchen.

"We're gonna be here a few days, I think," you go on with false cheer. "Maybe she'll bring the kid by and you'll find out whether the new hubby has a stepson or daughter."

There's a spectacular crash as several pots and pans hit the floor. Followed by another. And another. The Cafe radiates disapproval, but it's directed at you. Making you feel a pang of remorse. When things fall silent, you hurry into the kitchen. Nathan stands among the wreckage, gripping the edge of the island. Head bowed and shoulders visibly trembling.

"Hey, I'm sor-"

"No, you're not," he interrupts bitterly, voice thick.

"You're right, I'm not," you admit, keeping your tone casual. Daring to lay a hand on his shoulder. "I've been having a terrible time, lately, and that's partly your fault. You've earned this."

He snorts, a weird sound somewhere between a laugh and an extremely phlegmy sob.

"Maureen said the same thing."

"Actually, she said you were a lousy, unreliable son of a bitch."

Another almost laugh. He doesn't move your hand.

"She wasn't wrong." His tone sobers as he continues, "If she'd just told me-"

"Everything would have stayed exactly the same."

This time he does knock your hand away, giving you an offended look.

"Get over it and help me clean this up," you tell him sternly. You can't resist lecturing as the two of you work. "You didn't change when she left. Or when you lost all your money. Or when Blackie gave it all back. You quite literally gambled your way onto the streets and never once tried to improve. That poor woman was better off as a single mother. At least she knew all the money was going to feed her child."

Nathan keeps slamming the pots and pans around while cleaning, letting you know he doesn't appreciate anything you're saying.

"So I'm irredeemable and damned, is that it," he snaps.

"As long as you keep wallowing in self-pity, yes."

You suspect that he will get to meet his unknown child. To face up to his regrets.

It reminds you of a few regrets of your own. Like never having a chance to find out if you’d wanted children or not. Your only goal in life had been to follow Tommy, the two of you plotting your castle in the air with the idea that someday you’d think about the possibility. Maybe. Then you went into survival mode as he took one bad deal after another and there wasn’t time to worry about pregnancy.

You’d defined so much of yourself around him. Maureen was like a glimpse into a world where you saved yourself years of misery.

Nathan’s the bitter man Tommy could have easily become if it weren’t for you and his dogged optimism. The knowledge softens you enough to offer an olive branch.

”But you’ve still got a shot,” you say, smiling thinly as you echo Blackie’s remark from a lifetime ago. “As long as you’re here, anyway.”

You’re alone in your amusement, with Nathan lacking the proper context to recognize what would have been an inside joke.

“Maybe I don’t want it,” he grumbles, slamming one last pan back into place.

“So, hypothetically, if things were setting up for you to know more about the kid…?”

Because he clearly needs that before he can move on.

”About all I’ve missed and can’t have? No, thank you.”

The Cafe shares your disappointment as you leave the kitchen, drawn out by the swing of the front door and yet another customer.

No one important enough to make Blackie return. The building remains painfully empty and the air completely wrong.

Happy Valentine's Day to you.

Oh my goodness M.I, I'm sorry, but your sister is a gremlin. I'm going back in time to get you as many buckets and mints as you need.

Okay now I'll read the fic. Little worried about that that apology, but-

'What can I say? I'm designed to be irresistible' 'Unlike you'- M.I, LET ME TRANSFER INTO THIS FIC SO THAT I CAN S M A C K THIS MAN ON BEHALF OF READER.

Reader, we aren't talking to him anymore. Come on. You deserve so much better. We have to leave the sad immortal alone to do his sad immortal things << <<

But really, seriously, M.I, ohhhhhhhhh my god. This one was a heart wrencher!! Your writing, man, I- you're the master XD Thank you so much for this addition!! I hope you're getting a little more free time now and getting to relax ^^

#... blackie is so in love though. shit. no doubt.

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