#and when I switch to my laptop so my damn pages would load I got ads for weightloss on it lmao

[narutos-sloppy-pussy]

Finished Dungeon Meshi today

[saltfics]

“You’re panicking?! I’m the one who got fucking *insert injury*!”

Blood, Gore & Injury Sentence Starters Thanks for the ask @bibliothesoph !! I made an Ao3 work for this and future sentence prompts here! But the whole fic is posted under the keep reading as well!

If you want to go really hard on the appreciation, you can tip your fellow writer here. Hope you enjoy!!

 Having famous last words is one way to go down in history. It’s not even just the profound ones that get all the credit. Sometimes, the ones remembered are those that were so cocky and topped with just the right amount of irony to be rendered iconic.  Alex has never forgotten John Sedgwick since he learned about him, not because of his great work as a military officer, but because he had the gall to say ‘they couldn’t shoot an elephant from that distance’. And then they did. 

Alex thinks he has a high chance of going down the same way. In fact, his last words might turn out to be, I can run that fast.

The light for the pedestrians switches from green to red just as he steps on the crossing, but the cars are still far away. Henry’s waiting for him outside the university library, and Alex is already twenty minutes late. I can run that fast, he thinks and dashes instead of stepping back. He doesn’t notice the car that’s mid-turn, a turn that’s far closer thanwhat he based his calculations on. I can run that fast. 

Famous last words.

There’s a precise moment when he realizes he’s completely fucked up, and he wastes one whole sixteenth of a second hoping it’s not the last time he ever gets to fuck up like that. He’s in the middle of the street, too far in to back away, too far away to make it to the other side. It’s a two-car lane. If he takes a step back, there’s something coming his way. If he takes a step forward, there’s another car coming his way. If he stays there  … Fucking fuckity fuck.

If he dies, Henry’s going to murder him.

Metal connects to his side and all that crap about your life flashing before your eyes? It’s still crap, but later he’ll swear time does slow down for him to think. Or his mind goes into overdrive. Same difference. He feels the first slam and he thinks, hey that wasn’t that bad.  He can’t see around him, can’t register his surroundings but he still manages one single, impossible thought in the middle of disaster: Brace yourself. You still have to land.

And maybe that’s why when he does fall on the asphalt, a good two feet away from where the car hit the breaks, his hands are out to protect his face. When his vision returns, he’s on his hands and knees in the middle of the street, his palms stinging from the rough slap against the asphalt. His legs are spread behind him and his backpack is too heavy on his back, pulling him to the side.

Alex is breathing hard, trying to take mental stock of his body. He’s afraid to try moving his legs, but he’s still in the middle of the fucking road, one of the lanes paused because of his stupidity. Okay, okay, he has to move.

He searches his body for any extreme aches that should cause him to panic, but the adrenaline must still be pumping through him because he doesn’t feel any pain. Relief spikes through him for a second. He’s fine. He’s actually fine. Henry’s not going to kill him. June is not going to have his head.

Then he actually tries pushing himself to his feet. Shit, nope, he’s wrong. He’s very wrong. Fuck.

Pain strikes, angry and bright like lightning up his leg, the second he considers putting some weight on it. The effect on him is still blurred, his mind reeling too much to properly panic or wonder what that means.

He doesn’t register the people walking towards him until two sets of hands grab his arms, while a third pries his backpack from his shoulders to lessen his load. Together they guide him to the nearest sidewalk. Alex is sure he says something to them. Thank you, or sorry, or an endless stream of both mixed together into a string of mumbled nonsense.

“Dude, are you okay?” one of the guys supporting him says.

“You should have been more careful,” reprimands the lady who’s still holding his bag. “Why did you cross like that?”

They lower him down into a sitting position again now that he’s not obstructing traffic anymore, and Alex’s head is starting to return to him. A small crowd is gathered around him, talking to him, asking him if he needs anything, but mostly just looking on, curious and worried in equal measure. He looks around for his backpack again, just to make sure it’s nearby. His laptop, including his fresh 25-page paper is in there and he has his priorities straight, damn it. 

He catches a glimpse of what he’s pretty certain is the car that slammed into him drive away as soon as the street is free again. Fucker.

“We should call an ambulance!”

“Should we drive you somewhere?”

“Is there anyone I can call for you, honey?”

That’s when his mind actually connects. “Oh, shit! Henry! Where’s my phone? I-I was holding it? Fuck, is it still on the street?” One of the guys who helped him pushes his phone into his hands. Alex is pretty sure he’s in his class. Shit, he needs to learn his name. Why is he such an ass with this stuff? “Thanks, man,” Alex offers him a guilty smile. “I’m—I’m good. I’m good, everyone! Thank you so much! I’ll just call my boyfriend to-to pick me up! It’s—”

“Alex?”

“Or he’ll find me first.”

The crowd parts as Henry pushes his way through, and soon starts to scatter. The lady hands his backpack to Henry as she leaves, and he accepts it, confused. Alex watches as Henry’s eyes roam over him, widening as he takes him in, sitting on the dirty sidewalk, his leg spread out carefully, his clothes rumpled. And he’s grateful there’s a lack of carnage on him, no blood or torn clothes, that he’s just mildly disheveled, because he can’t imagine putting Henry through that.

Well, he’s also grateful he didn���t die, but again, priorities.

“Alex, what happened?” Henry asks, crouching next to him. He pushes a tangled mess of curls away from his face, letting his hand rest on his cheek. “Why are you on the ground? Are you okay?”

Okay, shit, how does he tell his beautiful, barely calm boyfriend that he was stupid enough to get slammed by a car in one of the busiest streets in New York? “Uh, okay, don’t freak out.” Which is the wrong thing to say, and the fastest way to get Henry to do just that.

“What? Why? What’s wrong? Can you get up? Are you hurt?”

“Yes. And yes. Actually, I think. I don’t know.”

“Alex…  what?”

Alex groans. His leg is still throbbing in a steady pulse, but that’s about it. Even his hands have stopped stinging. “Help me up? Please?”

Henry nods, still confused and Alex doesn’t want to exchange the confusion with whatever’s going to come next. He wonders how much he can play the injury off. He can say he tripped, and with his level of injuries it’ll probably be believable but he doesn’t want to lie to Henry. If it was the other way around…

Alex hisses the moment he’s on his feet. Henry fumbles to readjust his grip on his arms, squeezing a bit too tight as if Alex might break if he doesn’t hold on with all he has. “Shit, sorry. I, uh, okay. So, I had a little accident.”

“You—what kind of accident?” The color washes from Henry’s face as he pulls him closer, shifting his arms so one of them is around Alex’s back instead. “What happened?”

“I’m okay, I promise! I was just really stupid. And crossed the street too carelessly and well…” he shrugs, giving a vague gesture towards his left leg.

Henry looks back towards the street for a moment, and when he turns back to Alex he looks like he’s the one who got struck. “That street?” he asks, voice small. “Are you okay? Are you—Okay, we need to go to the hospital. I’ll call Shaan to come pick us up, do you want to sit down again? Does it hurt? I’m sorry, I—”

Alex places both palms on the side of Henry’s face, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. “Hey, hey. Look at me.”

Henry hesitates for a second. When those precious blue eyes turn to meet his own, hints of moisture linger in their corners. He’s much paler than he was when he arrived, and Alex wants so desperately to kiss some color back into those lips, watch a rosy pink dust his too cold cheeks.

“Baby…” he coos. “You’re panicking? I’m the one who got ironed. Breathe.”

Henry flinches, his face inching away from Alex’s hold. “Don’t use that word. That’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he chuckles. “Would it help if I went to the hospital with you?”

“Would it help? Of course, you’re going to the hospital! ‘Would it help’, he says.”

There’s no chance in hell Henry is going to take no for an answer, so Alex waits for him to call Shaan, lets him help him to the car without any protest. On the way there he gets three phone-calls, the level of exasperation increasing with each one. Apparently one of those kind passerbys was also kind enough to post a photo of him on the sidewalk on his Twitter. His dad calls first to make sure he’s okay. Then June, who upon learning the location of the accident just responds with ‘and you’re still alive?’, which is fair but also very rude, though when he complains to Henry about it, he’s sure he must be using all his patience not to glare at him for the nonchalance. He’s definitely glaring when Zahra calls and Alex just hands the phone over to him with the biggest, most pleading eyes he can muster.

Other than that, Henry stays quiet, eyes glued up ahead and staring at nothing. One of his hands is holding Alex’s own and he squeezes it every few minutes like he’s trying to make sure Alex is still there. It’s scaring him a little, but no matter how many times he insists he’s okay, that it barely even hurts, Henry doesn’t relax. He turns to him, gives him a small, tense little smile, then resumes looking at nothing ahead of him.

It’s fine. They’ll go to the hospital, they’ll get some tests done, and Henry will see he’s in perfect health. Then they’ll go home and cuddle until he forgets how much his leg hurts.

Unless he has some internal bleeding. That would be unfortunate.

The hospital visit passes faster than even he could have predicted. After describing his symptoms, Alex is quickly examined by an orthopedist and taken for x-rays to make sure nothing is broken. Everything comes out clear and in an astonishing show of competency, they’re out of there less than two hours later. Hell, the waiting room took twice as long as the tests themselves.

They stop for some painkillers on the way home, and he’s all set. He won’t even have to miss a class.

But Henry doesn’t perk up with the news. His breathing calms and he gets a hint of color to his cheeks as they drive home, but he’s still quiet. Withdrawn. It hurts more than the leg.

David rushes to greet them when they return, all little jumps and wagging tails. Alex feels a pinch of hurt when Henry grabs the puppy before he can jump on him. He doesn’t reprimand him, of course. Henry never yells at David, not even when he chews on pages of his work that he was foolish enough to leave out, but he’s too listless to play with him either, and it’s that apathy that finally breaks Alex’s heart.

“Henry? Baby, talk to me,” he pleads, leaning on his good leg with one hand against the nearest wall. “I’m fine, so what’s wrong?”

Henry doesn’t look at him. “I’m going to take him out for a bit. We won’t take long. Maybe I can bring food on my way back? What do you feel like having?”

“Henry.”

“Is there anything you need before I leave? Water? Tea? Do you want me to help you up the stairs? Maybe we should just fix up the couch for tonight…”

Alex sighs, limping over to where Henry is still looking away from him, bent over to secure the leash on David’s collar. He wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him upright. “Sweetheart…” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, as he’s still turned the wrong way. “Please.”

It takes a lifetime to hear his voice. “You’re such an idiot,” Henry breathes, too shaky to hold any bite. He lets Alex turn him around and leans forward to press their foreheads together. “You’re such an arse.” He’s not crying, though he’s shaking, and Alex rubs some warmth up and down his arms, along his back. “Do you have any idea how lucky you got? That was a dangerous fucking street, Alex.”

It’s the lack of anger that truly does him in. Henry might be mad at him but it’s not enough to overpower the fear that’s been rooting within him for hours. “I’m sorry. I know. I’m so sorry.” Alex pulls back slightly to give him a soft smile. “Would it help if I said I was rushing because I was so desperate to see you?”

“Alex. ”

“Nope, I made it worse. Got it.” He presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It was stupid, even for me. It won’t happen again, I promise. I’ll look both ways. Twice. I’ll fucking study physics to calculate the speed of cars versus my chance of running into them if I have to!” A smile trembles at Henry’s lips and Alex grins. “Watch me! Hey,” he says, softer now. He presses another kiss, this one to his cheek, smiling against him when Henry tilts his head towards the touch. “Anything to wipe that look off your face, and never have to see it again.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I worried you.”

“I know.”

David squeezes between their legs, pawing at Henry, nudging him with his nose.

Alex smiles. “It’s okay, buddy. I upset your daddy a little bit, but we’ll be fine. Right?”

Henry nods, bending down to scratch the top of David’s head, before heading for the door. “He doesn’t like it when I’m upset.”

“We have that in common.”

Henry makes sure to wrap him into the biggest hug before he leaves, even though he’s all kinds of dirty from lying on the road, and probably still smells like the hospital. Alex presses his face into the crook of his neck, breathes him in. Guilt churns in his stomach when he really stops to think about it, how stupid it was, how Henry must have felt. He squeezes a bit tighter before letting go.

And because he’s a total hypocrite, but he got himself too worked up not to, he calls out after him before he shuts the door.

“Hey, look both ways before you cross the road!”

Henry loves him, anyway.

[httpjeon]

— the cockpile: busanbaby-95 | jimin (m.)

jimin/reader | fluff, smut | pornstar!au, camcouple!au

wordcount: 4.8k

contents: sex work, switch!jimin, hot&fast quickies, pet names, praise kink, masturbation (male&fem), light cum play, office hookups, light friends2lovers, unedited

― synopsis: your friend and co-worker does cam porn. After some unfortunate events, he asks you to join him in his…hobby.

note: okay so this fic is actually inspired by another fic; simplycute.97 linked below!

blog masterlist | series masterlist | sister fic

© httpjeon 2019. do not repost, modify, or translate.

You hadn’t expected to fall into bed with Jimin. After all, he was a good friend and on top of that, hooking up with your co-workers was something frowned upon. So, when Jimin walked you home after a company dinner, the last thing you expected was to have sex with him.

His lips were so soft. You’d always admired them, they were so full and pretty pink in color. But now with them pressed against yours in a heated kiss, you knew they were undeniably soft too.

Your back was pressed against your front door, neither of you bothering to even try to make your way to a bed or even a couch. Your hands quickly became busy, loosening his tie before tugging it over his head to toss away. You could feel how firm his chest was as you worked to unbutton each and every button of his shirt, half of you wanted to rip the damn thing open but this was a work shirt and you didn’t think he’d appreciate it in the end.

“God, you’re so fucking horny,” He growled into your ear, reaching down to slide his hands up your skirt, tugging until it was crumpled up on your waist and your baby blue cotton panties were on display.

You whimpered at his words, hearing the normally soft and cute Jimin curse was a huge turn on. His shirt was finally unbuttoned, and you shoved the offending fabric off his shoulders until his tugged it off and dropped it.

“Fuck, Jimin,” You cried out, suddenly feeling gentle fingers delving between your folds to find your swollen clit. He growled in response, nipping at your lips before sliding two fingers into your clenching hole, the sudden stretch causing you to tremble. “Please, just fuck me Jimin!”

“God, you’re a little slut for it, aren’t you?” He moaned, sliding his fingers out of you before leaning down to grab you by the backs of your thighs.

You held onto his shoulders as he lifted you up, the muscles in his arms bulging under your weight. You leaned against the wall, reaching between the two of you to tear your way into his black slacks to get to his cock, which you slowly pumped with your hand once he was released.

“Slide my cock in that pretty little pussy, baby,” He ordered, dark eyes locked onto the way your hand squeezed and played with his tip until you felt he was lubricated enough with his own precum.

You pulled your panties to the side while using your other hand to position him at your entrance. You relaxed your muscles, so he could sink into you in one graceful thrust. The moan he let out was almost enough to have you cumming right then and there.

“God, you’re so fucking hot inside,” He groaned, pulling back a bit to thrust into you once again, a wet noise signifying how he sunk into you.

Jimin didn’t hold back in the slightest, settling for a pace that had you moaning and whimpering in pleasure. Your nails dug into his shoulder blades, unable to even register anything other than his heavenly cock slamming against your g-spot, abusing the sensitive area to the point that your legs trembled around him.

“God, if I’d known your little cunt was this good, I would have fucked you way sooner,” His confession had you keening, your head bumping against the wall as your eyes rolled back into your head. “Play with your clit for me, baby, make yourself cum on my cock.”

You didn’t even hesitate in following his instructions, finding your clit swollen and sensitive to your own touch. Your walls squeezed around Jimin, making him groan in delight. With a few well-aimed thrusts from Jimin and your own fingers on your bud, you were cumming in record time. Jimin tossed his head back, erupting inside you with a groan, making your walls clench around him more at the sudden heat that filled you.

“Fuck,” Jimin whined, hips slowing as his orgasm came to an end before he finally stopped completely, resting his head on your shoulder with a sigh.

“Hey, space cadet,” A cheerful voice shook you out of your heated flashback. You shook your head, pulling yourself from the haze. As your eyes met Jimin’s you noticed that you were clenching your thighs and you were definitely aroused from your own daydreaming, but you did your best to play it off by smiling at him. “How are those forms going? You know boss-man will have your head on a platter if any of them are off!”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” You rolled your eyes at his playful warning. “And I have to say, you interrupting me isn’t helping as it is,”

He shrugged, biting his plump lip as he winked at you. “Like you even care you it, you love my company,”

“Debatable,”

“Admit it, you hate this job as much as I do, so why do you try so hard?” He asked, leaning against the wall of your cubical, playing mindlessly with a little novelty bobblehead you got when you visited Daegu a couple years back with some friends.

“Well, not all of us has a dazzling fallback career doing porn, you know,” You teased, resisting the urge to laugh when Jimin’s mouth fell open at your words.

“You’re a little demon,” He chuckled, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. “And it’s cam porn, I’ll have you know!”

“Park Jimin, my office…” There was aa moment of hesitation from Jimin at the sudden appearance of the boss. “NOW!”

You flinched at the shout, as did Jimin before he rushed out of your cubical and into the boss’s open door. There was a loud slam of the door and then a deafening silence which you decided to fill the rhythmic typing on your desktop.

It felt like ages before the boss’s office door opened again and Jimin stormed out. Your eyes were wide as you took in his disheveled appearance. He had clearly been running his hands through his hair and he had loosened his tie sometime while in the office. His jaw was locked, and his fists were clenched at his sides as he stormed to his cubicle next to yours.

“Jimin? What’s up?” You asked, peeking over the edge of the wall that separates your cubicles.

“I got fucking fired,” He spat, throwing his belongings into a little plastic box angrily. You flinched when you heard the loud clack of his snow globe hit the bottom.

“Fired? For what?” You asked, rounding the wall to stand beside him. He didn’t answer, merely chuckled and scoffed before putting a lid on the box. He yanked it off his desk and before you could stop him, he was storming away and out of sight.

“What the hell…” You muttered to yourself, furrowing your brows as you looked at his now empty desk.

Every so often, you would bring up Jimin’s contact and type out a text message, only to delete it before                                even sending it. The workplace was boring and lonely without Jimin bugging you every 15 minutes. There had been a couple times where you had to stop yourself from peeking over to talk to him, only to remember he wasn’t in that cubicle anymore. A new man named Jung Taekwoon had taken his position and he was an extremely quiet, withdrawn man and no matter how many times you had tried to befriend him, you only received a cold glance in return.

As you sat at home with your laptop open and Jimin’s contact open once more, you debated contacting him. However, before you even typed a greeting, you locked your phone and tossed it onto the cushion beside you.

Your eyes drifted to your laptop, open on google, the screen staring back at you, as if taunting you.

“…Fuck it,” You growled, leaning forward to search for something you’ve been longing to see since you first found out about it.

Park Jimin cam porn

Google picked up numerous results and you clicked on the first one that caught your eye. As the page loaded, you were brought to a website titled kboycams.com. Staring back at you was a profile of your friend and ex co-worker under the name of busanbaby-95.

You clicked on the first video that you saw. It was titled ‘Park Jimin’s Cock Vibe’ and the thumbnail was Jimin in thigh highs and his hand wrapped around his pink cock.

It took only a second for the video to buffer and you were immersed in the video as soon as he spoke his greetings. His voice alone sent shivers down your spine as you remembered the filthy way he spoke to you that one night not so long ago.

With trembling hands, you clicked to some time in the middle of the video, wanting to just get to the meat of it. Immediately, moans erupted from the speakers on your laptop and you clasped your hand over your mouth to hold in your gasp.

Jimin was spread upon his bed, thick thighs covered in cute pale pink thigh highs that hugged his muscles deliciously. However, what really had your mouth watering was a little bullet vibrator he was holding against the sensitive head of his cock. His hips would jerk off the bed every so often and he would let out the most beautiful whimpers.

You made the video widescreened and sat back against the couch, sliding your hand beneath your shorts and into your panties. You were surprised to find how wet you were and with a single touch to your clit you whimpered, shocked by your own sensitivity.

Jimin, on screen, continued to rock his hips into the vibrator. He let out tiny whines everytime the stimulation became to much.

��Ah fuck! I’m gonna cum!” He cried, trembling endlessly on the bed just panting.

You circled your clit in time to the way his hips thrusted towards the vibrator. Finally, he let out the cutest whine before cum erupted from his cock, painting his stomach in streams of milky white. The thought of being able to lick that mess up had you cumming just after him, trembling in ecstasy as you stared at a fucked-out Jimin on the screen.

You reached forward with your clean hand and turned the video, sighing in your seat as you pulled your hand from your panties, a shiver going down your spine at what just happened.

You walked into the office, passing by Jung Taekwoon and offering him a small wave, which he returned with a cold stare that you brushed off as you took your seat in your cubicle. You felt odd after last night, you’d slept with Jimin before but there was just something about watching him like that that made you feel dirty.

You brushed that feeling off as your computer booted up, displaying your company’s login screen. However, as you typed in your information, it came up with big red letters signaling your account was no longer accessible. Shaking your head in confusion, you tried a total of 4 more times before you sat back in your chair in utter confusion.

You heard your name being called, causing you to turn around in your chair. Your boss was standing in his office doorway, arms crossed over his chest. When you took a moment to respond he waved you into his office. You stood up, feeling your heart pounding in your chest from nerves. It was never a good sign when you were called into your boss’s office.

“_____,” He started when you both sat down, him behind his desk and you in an uncomfortable red wood chair with a cheap cushion placed on it. “now, you’ve been an employee here for 5 years now. You started as an intern and worked your way up the ranks. We’ve enjoyed having you with us but unfortunately…the higher up are asking for a cut in employees and unfortunately you were chosen.”

“W-What?” You choked, leaning forward in your chair as you stared at him with wide eyes. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you’ve been laid off. As of today, you no longer work here.” He said, a sympathetic smile on his face, though his eyes showed no care at all.

“You can’t just fire me like this! I don’t have anywhere else to go! Aren’t you supposed to give us like a notice before you just throw us to the wolves?!” You cried, standing up in your chair now as you yelled at him.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to collect your things and leave. You’ll get your last paycheck in the mail.” He said, standing up himself and almost forcefully ushering you out of his office.

When you got back into your cubicle, Taekwoon was standing beside the water cooler, taking a sip from a little paper cup. You made eye-contact but instead of a happy smile, like you usually give him, you glared at him before storming back to your cubicle to collect your things, the same way Jimin had a week before.

You weren’t sure why but before you thought too much about what you were going to do now that you were out of a job, you found your way down a familiar path you’d only been on one time before. The entire drive to Jimin’s apartment, you were gripping the steering wheel so hard your knuckles were white.

“_____?” He asked after your incessant banging on his front door. He had come out wearing some white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Even in something so casual he had your panties dripping with lust for him. You were unsure if it was anger or what, but before you could stop yourself your lips were on Jimin’s.

He was shell shocked for a moment but he quickly found himself getting into it, pulling you into his apartment urgently as you started to pull his shirt off of him. As soon as the door slammed shut, he was stripping you out of your work attire. You didn’t care in the slightest when you heard the fabric of your skirt rip as he didn’t unzip it fully before tearing it down your legs.

You were suddenly left in just your panties and you were about to strip his sweatpants off when he pulled away.

“Get to the bedroom, princess,” He cooed, cocking his head down the hall.

Biting your lip, you did as he told you and rushed to his bedroom with him hot on your heels. You crawled onto the bed, getting ready to flip onto your back but he grabbed your hips, keeping you on your hands and knees.

“God, you’ve got such a nice ass, babygirl,” He cooed, cupping your cheeks in his hands through your panties, delivering a sharp slap to one, making you squeal.

You looked over your shoulder, watching him strip his sweats, revealing that he wasn’t wearing anything beneath them. As he was distracted, you shimmied out of your panties, tossing them off the edge of the bed with your foot.

“Sexy little girl,” He cooed, climbing onto the bed behind you, standing on his knees. You whimpered, feeling his hot cock brush against your lips, coating the head in your juices. “You’re so wet. Do you think I could just sink in like this?”

“Y-Yes,” You whimpered, arching your back to stick your ass out more for him, giving him a delicious view of your wet slit.

“Really? You want me to just fuck you with no prep?” He teased, running his cock between your lips, chuckling when you cried out as he caught your clit.

“Yes, please!” You whined, pushing your hips back, causing the tip of him to sink in. He froze while you shivered at the feeling. You were so fucking hot and needy for him and it was driving him absolutely insane. Ever so slowly, he sunk farther into you, feeling your walks spasm as they worked to accept him into your hot body. Finally, you felt his balls hit your clit, making you tremble at the teasing pleasure it provided.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” He moaned, tossing his head back as he began to fuck you.

“Oh god, Jimin!” You cried, clutching the bedsheets as he hit your g-spot with terrifying accuracy.

“Fuck, you’re dripping all over me,” He ran his hand down your back before delivering another slap to your ass, moaning when the impact made you clench around him. “That’s a good girl, take my cock just like that,”

Your mind was hazy, all that you could think about was Jimin’s thick cock pounding into you, causing your pleasure-filled body to tremble beneath him in an oncoming orgasm. As if sensing the urgency you had to cum, he reached underneath your body to find your clit, which had been neglected up until now.

The second his fingers touched the pulsing nub, you were sent flying into an orgasm. Jimin choked out praises as you came, trembling beneath him and squeezing his cock to his own orgasm. However, unlike last time you fucked, he pulled out and pumped his cock with the hand that wasn’t circling your clit. AS he stroked himself to orgasm, he continued to ease you through yours with gentle swirls of his deft fingers.

Once your skin was beautifully painted with his cum, he pulled his fingers away from your sensitive core, letting you flop down onto your side.

He used his sheet to clean your back free of his cum with a sheepish grin before he laid down beside you.

“What was that about?” He asked with a chuckle, looking at you as you covered your body with his blanket.

“I got laid off,” You replied, voice flat.

“What?!” He sat up, eyes wide. “Shit, that’s unfortunate…what’re you gonna do?”

“I have no clue, I’ll start job hunting tomorrow and see what I can get,” You shrugged, heaving a big sigh of frustration.

“I’ll probably never get an office job again,” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “I was fired because boss man found my cam site.”

“Oh my god! That’s why you were fired?!” You shook your head.

“Yeah, he said some pretty choice things about it,” Jimin shrugged. “But now I just get to stay home and do something I find fun!”

“I think it’d be fun to do cam porn, I’ve thought about it before,” You admitted, offering him a sheepish smile. “but I’m too scared to just jump head first into it, you know?”

“Yeah, I understand that, I was nervous my first time too,” He said before snuggling down into the bed. “but I’ve kind of become established now, you know? So, it’s just a really fun release.”

His words rang in your head.

Fun, huh?

Sitting in front of your computer, you were forcing yourself to pay attention to what you were seeing. Occasionally, you would come across a job listing that fit you and you would fill out necessary information to get an interview.

Your mind wasn’t really in the task, but you desperately needed to get back into work before it was too late, and you ran out of savings. It had only been 2 days, but you didn’t want to waste any time. Every so often, you would find yourself lulled into a daydream, thinking about your night with Jimin.

It was almost as if your body was now in a perpetual state of arousal from your own daydreams. Your panties felt wet and you kept squeezing your thighs together to fend off the painful arousal in your core.

Just as you clicked on a job opportunity listed on the site, your phone went off. Your gaze immediately locked onto Jimin’s name splayed across the screen with an attached text.

From: Jimin [12:18pm] Can you come over? I wanna talk to you.

You felt your anxiety skyrocket. Nothing good ever came out of ‘we need to talk’ texts. However, you fought down the nerves and agreed to meet Jimin at his place in 20.

Jimin was seated on the couch wearing a black button-down shirt, tucked into his jeans. He looked really good to say the least. You were sat beside him, bouncing your leg through your nerves.

“You good?” He asked, smirking at you when he noticed your fidgeting.

“Well, normally people deliver bad news when they say they want to talk,” You responded, huffing and crossing your arms over your chest. “So, if you could get it over with I would really appreciate it.”

He laughed, placing a comforting hand on your bouncing knee, making you freeze. “I promise it’s nothing bad, I just wanted to swing an idea by you.”

“Oh?” Your eyes met his, which you immediately regretted as his gaze was powerful and dark, making you shiver.

“Last night,” You bit your lip as he brought it up, like you knew he would. “you said you wouldn’t mind trying out camming, but you were too nervous,” You stayed quiet while you waited for him to finish. He seemed to be having trouble getting his next thought out.

“Jimin?”

“How would you feel about…doing it…with me?” He finally rushed out, voice barely above a whisper.

“What do you mean?” You asked, eyes wide at his proposition.

“I mean, it’s been done before, couples do cam porn together more than you’d think,” He shrugged.

“But…we aren’t a couple?”

“I mean…we could be…” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he was waving his hands around trying to do damage control. “I-I mean, like, we don’t have to. We have kind of a friends-with-benefits thing going now and that’d be fine to do together. You know no strings attached but still work…partners? Look, it pays pretty well with the tips and everything! By couple I mean we-we can just be work partners, you know?”

“Jimin, Jimin,” You laughed, grabbing his hands and forcing him to sit still. You could feel him trembling in your grip. “I’d love to try it out with you. I think it could be fun.”

“Wh-Really?” He asked, a smile blooming across his face.

“Yeah, it’ll be funner than working in a boring cubicle with a boss hovering over me every second of the day,” You chuckled, giving his hands a comforting squeeze before you let him go. “so yeah, let’s do it!”

“This is awesome!” He jumped to his feet in excitement. “Okay, so I have a schedule and tonight is the next recording, but if you don’t want to do it tonight, I understand I can do it on my own.”

“No, I’ll do it tonight,” You grinned, standing up. “only if I can steal your bathtub beforehand tho. A girl needs to pamper herself.”

“Absolutely, take all the time you need,”

You were sat on Jimin’s bed, watching as he set up his stream. The laptop was set up at the edge of the bed, showing both of you in the screen. He pressed the record and quickly a handful of people flooded in and gave their greetings. You read the comments, seeing many asking who you were and what was going on.

“Hi everyone, this is someone close to me,” He introduced you, making you blush and wave shyly. “she was curious about doing this cam thing, so we decided to do something together!”

“Hi,” You choked out, feeling a little overwhelmed by the people greeting you. “My name is _____.”

You remained mostly quiet, taking in the way Jimin interacted with them so naturally. He would laugh and smile, talking to them as if they were people he personally knew. He really was charming.

“Okay, we’ve reached the goal tip so, I guess we can start!”

He turned away from the stream, grinning at you.

Ever so gently, he eased you onto your back, revealing your lack of attire to the viewers. Jimin had suggested you start off in just your bra and panties as he did only in boxers, to entice the viewers.

He kissed you, the first time since that one drunken night you fucked against the door. His lips were still just as soft as they were then, and you felt a shiver go down your spine.

His fingertips tickled your skin as he reached behind you to unclip your bra. The light pink fabric was quickly thrown away before being replaced by Jimin’s hands. You whimpered as he kneaded your breasts, carefully pinching your nipples to gauge your sensitivity. When you whimpered, he smirked before taking on into his mouth.

He hadn’t before paid any attention to your breasts, so to suddenly have his beautiful lips wrapped around one of your nipples had you flooding your panties. He looked so pretty as he worked to pleasure you, and your mind suddenly flashed the delicious way he came from that vibrator in his video.

“Fuck, Jimin, touch me!” You whined, grappling onto his wrist to force his hand down your panties.

He groaned as he fingers met your wetness, reaching down your entrance to collect the juices flowing out of you. He had an overwhelming urge to make you as messy as possible before fucking you. Slowly, he slid two fingers into your hole, moaning as your walls convulsed around his intrusion.

“God, Jimin!” You whined, arching your hips towards his hand as you tried to get his fingers deeper, desperately wanting to be filled.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to sink my cock in this little cunt again,” He whispered, taking your other, neglected nipple, into his mouth now.

“Please do,” You shot back, reaching down to shove your panties down.

He pulled his fingers from your core, popping them into his mouth with a moan to clean them of your juices.

“Fuck, I’ll have to get down on my hands and knees to eat your juicy pussy one day, baby,” He cooed, stripping himself of his boxers before tossing them away like your bra and panties.

You were laid completely bare before him, your legs spread to reveal your swollen, wet lips and the gentle swell of your clit. Licking his lips, he gazed at the sight before him with his hand wrapped around his cock as he pumped himself. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and positioned himself at your entrance, taking his time to sink into you.

“Fuck!” You cried, slamming your head back into the pillows as he filled you up so familiarly.

“Yeah, take that fucking cock, babygirl,” He growled, moving your legs so your knees were pinned to your chest.

The position allowed him to fuck you much harder and faster than he had any time before. The solid slap of his balls hitting your ass filled the room, rivaling you moans in loudness. You clawed at the bed sheets, your eyes rolling back int your head as he fucked you so perfectly.

“Fuck Jimin, just like that! So fucking good,” You praised, panting out your words as his thrusts sped up.

“Yeah? Does it feel good, baby?” He cooed, aiming his thrusts right at your g-spot which he had memorized by now.

Your cunt clenched around him as you saw the peek of a praise kink coming to light with his words. You continued to rush out soft praises for him, making him whimper and moan at your words. You could feel his cock throbbing against your walls, becoming closer to his end.

“I want you t-to cum when I cum inside you,” He growled, biting his lip before moaning. “do you think you can do that for me, baby?”

“Fuck yes, yes, please!” You whined, wincing when he let your legs out of the position he’d been holding you in, allowing your legs to fall to his sides as he continued to fuck you.

Suddenly, his froze and sunk his cock completely into you before letting out a whiny moan, flooding your cunt with his hot cum. The sight of his body trembling in ecstasy caused your own orgasm to hit you, just as he requested. Your clenching walls managed to force a couple more ribbons of Jimin’s cum from him.

Slowly, he pulled out, watching the torrent of cum spill from your gaping entrance. He gathered it up as it poured out, smearing it all over your clit and labia, enjoying the sight of you looking a complete mess with his cum all over you.

He turned around to face the camera, leaving a small wave and a goodbye before ending the stream and turning his attention back to you.

“That was fun,” He chuckled, enjoying your still fucked-out state.

“Yeah, but maybe next time you can bust out the thigh-highs and we can switch the roles,”

[ancientbooshartifacts]

Could You Ever Love Me?

Author: Vous_et_moi

Year: 2008

Rating: R

Pairing: Mike/Dave

“We should tidy up, Mike”

Dave swung one leg idly down off of Noels bed, it was a sham that movement, he had no intention of getting the other leg off of the bed, or getting up at all, he was comfy, Noels bed was huge and soft and bouncy with hot pink sheets. It must have cost a fuck load this bed.

“Mmm Yeah we should really tidy up.” Mike stretched beside him, letting his t shirt ride up, he scratched his head and mussed up his hair before grinning, “But I don’t think I will, I think I’ll just lie here and hope it tidies up itself.”

Dave grinned and swung his leg back up onto the bed, rolling over until he could lie on his stomach, “I don’t think it will Mike. And I think Noel is goanna be pissed at you if you don’t make the effort to maybe sort out the living room at least.”

Mike snorted and moved his hand down to his chest, leaving it there casually, in his other hand was the remote, he flicked through the channels, wrinkling his nose every time he caught sight of a soap, “He shouldn’t have given us his place while he was away then should he. House sitting, honestly? How paranoid is he?”

“Well, he did get broke into last time, and all them paintings nicked.”

Mike frowned, remembering “Yeah, and Dee’s diary, she was well upset, cried for like a fortnight. But I aint seen it kicking about anywhere on the internet and believed me I’ve looked,” Mike nodded and yawned. It was 10 past 12 in the afternoon, and they had been awake for roughly 15 minutes, sharing Noels bed the night before neither wishing to crash out on Noel’s lumpy sofa that may well have been direct form the sixties. They’d bunked together loads of times before, Mike was used to Dave’s deep breathing, Dave was used to Mike never lying still. “Pass us that cherryade Dave, my legs don’t work.”

Dave tutted and rolled his eyes, but made no effort to move. It was just a lazy Sunday, he didn‘t have to do anything for anyone. What time had they got in last night? Must have been near to four in the morning. “Lazy boy. Poor Dee, I bet it’s somewhere, like those total obsessive pages, but they’ll be keeping her secrets sacred, not realizing how much they’ve violated her privacy anyway.”

“She says its more because she writes down dreams she has rather than secrets, and how she feels if her and Suzie fight-”

“Suzie. You’d never call her that to her face.” Dave snorted with laugher, remembering when Noel had called her that once and she’d flipped, the only one who could get away with it ever was Dee. Mike grinned as well staring at the ceiling, before turning his head to look at Dave.

“Nope, neither would you. Dave please just pass us that cherryade?”

Dave frowned, and shook his head, “Its on your side. Noel bought her that book the day we all went to that really crap fair YEARS ago, do you remember?”

How could they forget that day at the really crap fair. It was scratched into his memory like graffiti on a school desk.

“Yeah, you won that goldfish that died the same day. Dee made us all write her a message in her new shiny notepad her new shiny boyfriend had bought her.”

“Yeah and you wrote something like ‘Hi from Mike, Dave’s Goldfish died today, like it was all a big joke” Dave put his head in the pillow, half joking, half remembering what I had felt like to have them all make fun of hem like that, it wasn’t that he got emotionally attached to the fish he’d known all of five minutes, it had been the concept that had just been so sad.

“You were proper gutted about that fish man, it was funny. Its on my side but I cant reach it without getting up, if you lean over me you can get it easy and not have to get up.” Mike stretched out his arm as if it illustrate his point, Dave sighed and pulled himself up a bit, he leaned across Mike, trying not to take his time in case that feeling hit him again and reached for the bottle.

“I was gutted because the poor thing had only ever known life in a plastic bag and I wanted to set it free.”

“You’re a freak. And don’t lean on my chest!” Mike shifted uncomfortably, nearly causing Dave to drop the bottle he had stretched out painstakingly to get.

“I’m getting your damn Juice.”

“Thanks.” Mike unscrewed the cap and took a long drink, frowning as he did so. “Ugh it’s gone all flat. And anyway I checked those sites too and I got nothing.”

They all knew about “those sites”

“Yeah? Even the Photoshop ones?”

“Yeah.”

“Even the Mighty Bumming sites?”

Mike nodded slowly, as if he were considering something, “Yeah. It’s not just Vince and Howard you know, there’s Noel and Julian, Old Gregg… there was one called Fossil fun time”

Dave groaned and Mike grinned, putting the lid back on the bottle and setting it down on the side he lay back down next to Dave, pulling a little sad face at Dave who was just glaring at him peering out between the pillow and his messy fringe.

“Thank you Mike you just made me want to die. Did you read any?”

Mike pulled a face and shook his head a little too wildly “No! like, 90% of them involve my brother in some form or other.” He grinned then, wickedly, and shot Dave a mischievous look, “Well I have, like two. Just to see.”

“Ones with Noel?” Dave grinned into the pillow, just as Mike hit him with his own.

“Ack no! don’t be foolish Dave.”

“Who then?”

“You’re awful keen David Brown. Do you want me to send you the links when I’m next on MSN?”

“Am I in any?”

“Aw Dave! Coarse you are mate! Boosh weirdo’s love you! You feeling left out?” Mike smiled wickedly again and shuffled over so he was eye to eye with Dave.

“Shut up. Just wondering, cause you know, the constant disguises…”

“Nah yeah you are. You’re quite a slut really with the men folk. You’ve had us all.”

“Nah.” Dave said, rolling onto his back and looking disbelievingly at Mike.

“Yeah, even Julian, though he’s really pining for Noel and you’re just being a mate by lending him your arse.”

“I’m selfless I am, mate. I think that’s how you know you’re famous. If you look on the internet one day and find yourself being bummed by your best mates.”

“Yeah totally, you’re just not it if you’ve not been written into erotic fiction.”

They laughed together then, it was an odd sort of flattery, but it worked out ok.

Dave remembered something Dee had told him once, about Noel and Julian stories, and smiled, “You know they mush up names? Dee told me-

-she goes mental over the stuff the freak.” Mike muttered, he was never very keen on how Dee would always ask Noel and Julian to kiss, but he guessed he didn’t like seeing his brother kiss anyone.

“I know apparently she makes Noel read it all the time,” They rolled their eyes in perfect unison, “anyway, so like, Howard bumming Vince is like, Howance or something. And Julian and Noel is Noelian-”

Mike tutted loudly at that, “I hate that. Noelian is a language me and him made up as kids, those nutters have tarnished it now.”

Dave laughed, but patted Mikes arm reassuringly, his hand lingered there for a little too long so he pretended to stretch to cover it.

“We’d be like…Dike.” He didn’t know why he said it, why he would bring that subject up around Mike at all, and he blushed heavily; luckily they were both looking up at the ceiling.

“Nope, we’re not.” Mike eventually said.

“What?”

“We’re not. We’re Mave.” Mike said this so matter-of-factly, as if he’d known for ages, that Dave turned to look at him questioningly.

“Mave? There’s no humour in that. We should be Dike.”

Mike grinned as he stayed looking up at the ceiling, “Why don’t you make an official complaint, they’d listen to you.”

“Encouragement they don’t need mate.” Dave laughed, shaking his head, Mike did the same.

Dave looked at Noels bed side table, where Mike’s laptop he’d brought over was sitting… It couldn’t hurt to look could it? Just to see? Mike had seen it, obviously, even if he hadn’t gone looking for it.

“Where are you going?” Mike asked as Dave sat up suddenly, he grabbed the laptop and flipped it open, pressing the power button, “Did you actually just switch on that laptop? Dave you’re a perve.”

“I’m just curious now like.” Dave tried to defend himself, but smiled despite himself, “How do you find it?”

“Go to Google. I dunno, ‘Mighty Boosh’ um, ‘fan fic‘, who do you want?” Mike asked, sitting up beside him.

“Be rude to read anything but Mave right now, with the others not here to defend their sexuality.”

Mike laughed, “Alright type in ‘Mave’ then… nah wait that’ll be too specific we’re not that well loved, just put ‘fan fic’ and we’ll find it from there.”

“Ok.”

“And Click.”

“Yes Mike I know that bit, I’m not form the past.”

Mike held up his hands defensively in front of him but he was smiling, “don’t get touchy with me just ‘cause you’re slow on the computer.”

“Your only fast cause you’re always looking up Naboo porn” Dave shot back grinning, but Mike pulled a face.

“Do not even joke about that. Sometimes I find it very hard to look at you dressed as a monkey.”

“Really? Bollo? That is odd.” Dave grinned, “Boboo?”

“Haha, maybe.”

They watched as the Google page loaded, Dave’s eyes widened at the sight of the hits total.

“Fucking Hell 16,400.”

Mike nodded from beside him then sighed.

“Just click on the first one. Oh this is the Livejournal one I’ve been here.”

Dave didn’t really want to know how Mike knew all these sites.

“Ok, how do search through this site.”

“Give it here. You’re useless, stick to taking photos… Do you not use digital?”

“Well yeah But I’m good with computers, not weird ass websites.”

Mike looked a little offended about that, leaping to the fan girl defence, “Hey you were the one who wanted to see, don’t call them weird! It’s very popular and widely excepted kink in Japan.”

Dave snorted with laughter, “What, Mave?”

Mike grinned, “No, Boys with boys. They love it. It’s over romanticized and the boys are drawn like chicks anyway but boy on boy anime and manga is everywhere.”

“You are too into Japanese culture.”

“It’s better than ours. Here’s some.”

Mike passed the laptop back to Dave and got up out of the bed and headed for the door, Dave looked up at Mike in surprise.

“You not going to read it?”

Mike laughed, “I’ll be back, I’m gonna make some food.” He hopped towards the door and Dave started scanning the words on screen, “Do you want some?”

“Yeah sure… Mike I like your warm eyes… they make me feel safe.”

Dave was grinning as he read, Mike smiled as well, as he watched a pink blush crawl up Dave’s face, “Shut it and read, don’t poke fun out of embarrassment, it’s fine to be turned on, I am a very sexy man.

Dave kept grinning, reading the story, Mike watched as his eye brows raised slowly up into his hair line, Dave’s eyes flicked back to Mikes, Mike always got a little flip in his stomach when he saw those eyes from a far, so blue, “ And apparently very sluttish… since when do you giggle?”

Mike skipped over back to the bed, “I’m always doing that in these. Do you want me to find a more “us” one… There was one I read that could have been true, I’ll find that.”

Mike grabbed the lap top back off of him and started typing in. Dave frowned, could he really read something that read like him and Mike…doing it… sex…

“I dunno that might be a bit weird. Oh ok then since I’m reading it anyway.”

“Ok, can you please go switch the oven on… please?”

Dave shuffled through to the kitchen, Mike looked up his favourites. What? Don’t you judge him, it’s hard enough being in love with your best mate and thinking that you’re perfect for him without being in the knowledge that quite a few people in the world very strongly agree with you and you not to go looking at what they’ve been saying.

Dave came back through and Mike had the story up. He sat the laptop down on the bed and went towards the door himself, passing Dave and the way, brushing past.

“Ok there you go… Do you want an egg?”

Dave looked puzzled, “Is there even eggs?”

“I dunno.” Mike grinned, “Thought I should ask. That‘s what I always get asked.”

“Nah its alright.”

“Ok. Have fun. You should leave the girl a review, she’ll never know, bless.”

Dave had already started reading, “Uh huh”

Mike clattered around in the kitchen, finding stuff to cook, there was a pizza in the fridge that would take ten minutes, that would do.

…Dave kissed Mike softly, unbelieving, he never thought he’d find himself in this position, but yet he had, and he found that he wasn’t so opposed to the idea, maybe it was the weed, or the beer, or the high of finishing another live show but as Mike pulled as the bottom of he t-shirt he felt him holding his arms off, they only broke the kiss so the thick material couldn’t be pulled over his head…

Dave stared at the screen unblinking, chewing on his bottom lip his eyes dragged along the page, soaking up every word, wishing he could fall through the page…

…‘This isn’t right…’ Dave whispered against Mike’s skin, even as he said it he didn’t stop from pushing him gently down on the bed, Mike shook his head, to disagree with Dave or to shake away his words he didn’t know, all he knew was how wrong and terrible and amazing it all was …

Was it wrong to sit here in one of your best mate’s room reading a story where you’re about to fuck his little brother and getting off entirely on it? Of course if he wasn’t in Noel’s room and Mike wasn’t in the next room he’d be getting off on it a lot more. But as it was he is, so Dave resisted his urges and just kept reading.

“Alright Dave do you want sauce? Dave?” Mike came ambling back through with the pizza and a couple of plates, Dave was sitting cross legged on the bed staring at the screen looking vaguely shocked, Mike grinned but tried to get rid of the smile just as it came. He put the food and the plates down on the chest of drawers that stood by the far wall, and moved towards Dave, who gave no signs of even noticing that Mike had come in. “Dave?”

“Uh…” Dave responded unblinkingly still staring at the screen as if hypnotised, Mike laughed a little and sat down beside him, waving his hand in front of Dave’s face.

“Dave are you ok… Dave?” Dave managed to tear his eyes from the screen and looked at Mike, however he couldn’t hold Mikes gaze so he looked at his hands instead.

“I’m ok.”

Mike bit his lip to stop him from smiling, he couldn’t help it really, Dave just suddenly looked much younger than he was… like 12, “You don’t look ok you’re all flushed. You want me to open a window?”

Dave shot Mike a dirty look for a second, but caught Mikes grin by accident, he looked back at the computer and shook his head disbelievingly, “How would they know that?”

“What?” Mike shuffled over so he could see what Dave was looking at, Dave pointed at the screen

“All those things…Like, you’d say that… and I’d probably say that and I eh… I do like that. And you… I don’t think you’d do that though… But… and…” Dave trailed off, looking down at his hands he pulled his sleeves over his knuckles like he would if he was out in the snow, only if there was any snow near him just now he reckoned he would melt it in an instant.

“Dave?” Mike smiled gently, Dave looked incredibly sweet when he did that, Mike sometimes forgot about the five years between them, “Are you ok? Was it too much for you?” He laughed a little, “Do you want to lie down?”

“I… Mike?” Dave bit his lip.

“What?”

“Would you ever want to do that?” The back of Dave’s neck had gone scarlet, Mike had the urge to blow on there, cool him down… That might not, actually, cool things down at all.

“What like in that story? Like with you or any guy?” Mike was definitely testing the waters now, winding Dave up… he was allowed to though, it was his right as the youngest to be an annoying twat.

“Uh…” Dave paused, still looking at his hands, “a guy?”

Mike stalled, wondering if it was worth telling Dave about the couple of drunk fumblings he’d had a while back, with boys he wasn’t ever sure he was really that into and that he was never sure they were really that into him. “Yeah. I have.”

“Really?” Dave looked up then, in shock, and the sudden intense gaze made Mike blush furiously.

“Yeah.”

“Ok, wow.” Dave’s mind wondered about thinking who and when and why, there might have been a touch of jealousy about it, “Me?”

Mike swallowed, decision time, admit that yes, he did want to do those things with Dave, a lot, quite often, in as many places as legally available to them, and perhaps some non legal places too, like that forest up the road from where Dave used to stay, OR make a joke about it hope he doesn’t get upset and carry on with the not-so-perfect-but-God-you-don’t-want-to-loose-it friendship.

“Maybe. Dave do you…” Mike sighed, “you can’t fancy me just because of something you’ve read on the internet-”

“I liked you before.” With this admittance Dave’s head snapped down and he was back to looking at his sleeves, Mike’s heart did a somersault. And a jimmy flip.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

Gotta love those awkward pauses.

“Ah right. Cool.” Mike grinned despite himself, Dave cleared his throat and looked back at the screen.

“This is really good. But I wouldn’t have done that.”

“No?”

“No… I would have done it more like…” Dave very slowly, very nervously moved a hand up Mikes side round to his back, he stoked his thumb right the way down Mikes spine, Mike shivered a little and wriggled closer to Dave, “yeah?”

“Yeah… that’s quite good, it’s better than hers.” Mike mumbled, staring at Dave’s mouth, wanting to lean over and kiss him, but what if they were just mucking about, what if this wasn’t leading where he thought it was leading? If he kissed Dave it would be a commitment, that would be out there, in the world, forever.

“yeah, and then I would have brought your hand here like…” Dave brought Mike’s hand to the top of his thigh, Mike moved closer still to Dave, pressing up against him, they held each others gaze.

“Like this?”

“Yeah like this.” Dave wasn’t sure who pushed who, but suddenly they were lying down. “But you wouldn’t have said I love you, you would have said something more Mike, like…”

“Like I hope you have that fiver cause I usually ask for cash up front.” Mike grinned as did Dave, shuffling a little so he could lie across Mike a bit more, he brushed Mike’s hair away from his face, their smiles fading away a little.

“Yeah like that, so I’d have to shut you up… like this.” Dave leaned down and kissed Mike, gently at first and then more demanding, seeking entrance to Mike’s mouth and he submitted more than willingly, playfully biting down on Dave’s bottom lip. Mike tasted like artificial cherries, the type you get on cakes. Dave lets out a very small moan, before pulling away, is this still just mucking about?

Mike takes a minute to get his breath back, as does Dave, they exchange sly glances, neither wanting to break the silence but Mike wants to see how the story ends.

“…Yeah that would have probably worked. Then what?”

“Well…” Dave considers for a moment, writing out in his head how he wants his sex scene to go, “I’d go like this.”

Dave has one leg in between Mike’s thighs now and he grinds down, Mike gasps a little in surprise, he hadn’t noticed just how turned on he was, or just how hard Dave was, he wants Dave to do it again but a nervous eruption of butterflies in his stomach slows him down and stops him from bucking back the way he wants to. Mike wasn’t lying when he said he’d been with other boys, there had been two, one in high school and one on holiday, but it had felt very different from this, playful. This was something else.

Dave had ducked his head down; writers block. Mike bit his lip, he guessed this was his story as well, he should maybe contribute, after all, he was the one who had the experience in this field, yes?

“Yeah… Yeah and I’d hold onto your hips real tight and …” He closed his eyes and thrust up, Dave groaned a little and hid his face in Mike’s neck, “do that.”

“But if you did that I’d have to respond with this,” Dave brought his face back up and manoeuvred himself fully in between Mike’s legs, he ground down and the same time brought a hand up underneath Mike’s t shirt and rubbed his thumb over one nipple, kissing Mike harshly, Mike moaned into his mouth, the noise sounding so needy that Dave responded with a groan of his own, his hips still working over Mike.

They broke for air, Mike still gasping and wriggling up against Dave like a dream, Dave resisted the urge to growl.

“Would you?” Mike eventually says, in between gasps, Dave slows down his ministrations and kisses Mike briefly on the lips.

“Yeah.”

Mike grins with his eyes shut, “With what sorry?”

“This.” Dave smiles but grinds down again, tugging at Mikes t shirt somehow they manage to get it off over his head without breaking the contact at their hips, Dave still grinding down with Mikes hands back down at his hips, both of them now only in their boxer shorts, Dave is suddenly very horribly aware that his boxers say “sex kitten” on them, a jokey pair that Dee had bought him to go with her briefs when they were mucking about doing dance routines in their pants. Maybe Mike wouldn’t pick up on that just now. And maybe the sun won’t rise tomorrow morning.

“Mmm, I’d like that.” Mike mumbled, moving his hands around a little, one on his arse, trying to speed up Dave’s movement, Dave let him.

“Good, cause I wouldn’t stop.”

“Not ever?”

“Not ever, if I didn’t have to.”

And he meant it, he could do this all day, thrusting and kissing and panting and wanting, it was too good, far too good, Mike was far too good at this, he thought about Mike’s past history with boys, how much did he know? Was he himself alright? Or was he lacking? Mike seemed to be enjoying himself, but what if he was only trying not to hurt Dave’s feelings?

Mike dropped his head to one side, revealing a lovely amount of neck that Dave took full advantage of that, biting down. Mike let out a strangled groan, you couldn’t fake that could you? And you couldn’t fake that hardness. No, Dave was pretty sure he was doing alright.

“I might tell you I loved you then.” Mike all but whispered staring at the wall, biting a little on the inside of his lip, Dave stopped moving, all he could hear was their breathing, and the sound of his heart beating.

“I might say it back.”

Mike turned back so he could look at Dave, his eyes wide, and innocent looking, slightly scared, as if he was trying to work out whether Dave as being serious or not. Seeming to get the answer he was looking for Mike smiles, and tugs at the band of Dave’s boxers.

“I might insist this came off.” Mike whispers, keeping up the game.

“Ok.” Dave shuffles about so he can get them off, it makes him feel awkward, like when he was 15 years old and Cassie Simmons made him strip before she let him touch her breasts. “I’d probably get you to do the same though.”

“Well that’s only fair” Mike shimmies out of his own, it seems to go much smoother for him, a fact that makes Dave want to back pedal a bit, if he cant even take off his own pants elegantly then what chance in Hell did he have…

But Mike was looking at him in a way that Dave knew he meant the world to him, no matter how clumsy he could be. Dave loved him for it.

They kissed again, deeply, Mike's hands weaving into his hair, pulling them together, trying to get more Dave on him, desperate. They broke apart, flushed, Mike grabbed Dave’s hand from his hip and sucked two fingers into his mouth before bringing Dave’s hand in between his thighs and pressing own a little.

“And Dave, I think then I’d do this.”

Dave gulps, he knows what this means, if this happens there’s not going back, not ever, its about one o’clock, they don’t have any excuse, no late night madness to blame, no drunkenness to fall back on, “I’d ask if you were sure.”

Mike laughs and kisses him on the nose, “I’d tell you to stop reading Mills and Boon and that I’m not a fucking princess.”

Dave flushes annoyed for a minute, but only because he was asking himself more than Mike.

“I’d have to shut you up again.” He growls.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

He slides a finger into Mike and he bucks up, this reaction shocks them both a little and Mike laughs to sweep away his embarrassment. He’s so casual, even when he’s being serious you get the impression that it’s not him he’s taking seriously.

Is he serious about this?

“But I would have to make sure though, That you really wanted to, cause if you regretted doing this than it would change us forever.”

“I think I would tell you it already has. And then I’d have to shut you up.”

Mike kissed Dave hard, bringing himself off the bed as he did so, somewhere Dave’s mind is telling him to find lubricant, proper lubricant not just spit, and a condom, quite soon if at all possible, but where to look? He has no idea, in the story they had just been magic-ed out of thin air. He breaks the kiss and sits back a bit on the bed, Mikes eyes sweep up and down his body and Dave notices that this is the first time he’s been in a position to actually see Mike naked.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

They really needed to find stuff.

“In fics you don’t need to look for johnnies and stuff… you just know where they are.” He laughs nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

Mike laughs and sits up as well, “In Fics they don’t call them Jonnies and stuff, tool. You‘ll break the mood”

“Ah right. Well I’ve not read that much.”

“Well…” Mike goes back to recapture their story, “you see I’d remember that this is Noels room and that somehow I knew they’d be…here…”

Mike leans across and opens the second drawer on the chest of drawers on Noels side of the bed, he knew it would be one down from the regular drawer, ever the individual. there’s condoms, and lube, and some other stuff that Mike’s just going to ignore for now. He grabs a handful of sachets and condoms and waves them at Dave triumphantly.

“Wow, good guess.”

“Thanks.”

They assume the position, Mike laughing on and off as he tried to shift Dave around him properly, grinning foolishly as they rip open a packet of lube and it spills all over his stomach by accident, Dave’s frowning in concentration and this only makes Mike laugh more, Dave sits back again and Mike whines a little at the loss of contact.

“In a fic I’d know what the hell I was doing, and I’d be able to do this all smooth.” Dave mutters darkly, and Mike laughs again, but not unkindly, he reaches out for Dave and coaxes him to lie back down, trying again with a second sachet this time things run smoothly. Mike coats Dave’s fingers and again brings them down between his legs, Dave just soundlessly watching him as he positions two by his entrance and tries to persuade Dave into pressing forward, he does so and Mike gasps quietly and Dave just looks on, thinking he’s beautiful.

“Not in my fic you don’t, in mine I get to show you how to do this and you’d be a bit shy and yeah… you’d blush just like that.”

“Quiet, you.”

“And say something cute like that.” He leaves Dave’s hand and brings his own either side of Dave’s face, holding his head steady and looking deep into Dave’s eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, trying to get Dave to stop shaking, “and I’d just look at you like this till you calmed down…see?”

“Yeah.”

His kissed Dave and his hands search out one of the condoms on the bed, he opens it with ease, and feels Dave gasp and he roll’s it on over his length. He gets Dave to position himself and Dave removes his hand, Mike swallows but his throats dry.

“And then you’d…”

“Do this.” Dave thrusts forward slowly, until he’s all the way inside Mike and Mike lets his eyes close tight, just feeling him, all of him, Dave nuzzles in at his collar bone, safe.

“Yeah.”

“And the world would stop.” Dave mutters against his skin, tickling Mike slightly and Mike’s hands find their way to the small of Dave’s back, stroking here calmingly, soothing, loving.

“And there would be no one else.” There wasn’t, was there? Not in this world.

“But you”

“And you.”

“And I’d kiss you.” Dave brought his face out from where he was hiding, and started kissing Mike, little kisses at first, that built up, Dave shifted his weight, Mike jumped and Dave remembered that actually he had quite a bit of an advantage over Mike, He moved his hips again, and fuck, he felt fantastic, but even better was to see what it was doing to Mike.

“And we’d come crashing back to earth.” Mike panted out, bending his knees up a bit, wriggling about so that he was in an even better position, he pushed down on Dave’s back, wrapping one leg around him.

“And I’d fuck you like this.” Dave thrust as hard as he could, making Mike yelp in surprise and then smile again to hide his awkwardness at being so far gone. Mike was really starting to like this story.

“Yeah, yeah and I’d bite you like this...” a bite to a collar bone, Dave hissed out in pleasure and buried himself deeper in Mike.

“And I’d need you this bad.”

Dave’s hand snuck from Mike’s hip to his cock, wrapping his fingers around Mike’s length Mike groaned, and nipped at Dave’s skin in appreciation.

“And I’d want you so much”

“Fuck!”

“And I’d beg you to stop but you’d know I want more”

“and I’d be gasping for air” He was close he was so so close and he’d barely be doing this for five minutes and it was going to end and Mike was going to be so disappointed but he couldn’t stop and he couldn’t slow down.

“And I’d shout out your name, oh!” Mike gripped down on Dave hard and dragged him down on top of him, squeezing his eyes shut he came suddenly and unexpectedly, “Dave! Dave Dave Dave!”

Dave followed three maybe four thrusts after, being crushed in between Mikes legs he cried out and buried his face between the pillow and Mike’s neck.

They lay there for a few moments, panting, catching their breath, Dave slipped out of Mike and cleaned up, Mike laughed at the image of his come all over Dave’s stomach but couldn’t move himself, he just lay there with heavy lidded eyes.

Dave settled himself back down on Mikes chest with a contented sigh, a sound that was mirrored by Mike as he ran his hand through Dave’s hair, sweeping it back from his forehead, feeling the damp patches at his temple, never feeling more contented.

“…then we’d just lie here like this” Dave began, finishing off their story.

“With my hand in your hair.”

“Me between your thighs”

“And wish we never had to move.”

Dave sighed again, and moved so he could look up at Mike, “and we wouldn’t have to, ‘cause the fic would leave us there.”

“Without the complications.”

“Or the tidying up.”

“Or the dull ache.”

“Sorry.”

“Naw its alright”

Mike leaned down to give Dave a chaste kiss, and smiled up at the ceiling.

“I might love you.” Dave mumbled, drifting off.

“I might love you too. Dave?”

“Yeah?”

“Pass us that cherryade?”

end

[adapembroke]

This is your brain on Saturn.

If you’ve decided to try out the first sentence of this post, you’ve probably heard of the Saturn Return, the time in your life when all of your friends have become immature assholes, no corner of your apartment is suitable for Instagram, and you can’t stand telling one more customer to wait until the light turns green before inserting their card. 

This post is about that time, but it’s also about other times when Saturn enters your life--when it passes over your Sun, maybe, or calls up Pluto and suggests that breaking up with your SO the day after your mom died is the best thing, really, for making you a functional human being. 

Right now my partner and I are having big Saturn transits. Saturn is currently aspecting my Moon and Pluto (after giving up on my Saturn return... then my Sun... Saturn transits don’t ever actually finish. They just sigh and walk away.), and it’s aspecting my partner’s pretty-much-everything, so I thought it might be a good time to give a glimpse into what a Saturn transit looks from the inside.

How it feeeeeeeels...

It’s Saturday afternoon as I write this. Right now, my partner and I are at a coffeeshop. They are doing the big headphones on the ears while coding thing, and I’m writing this post while thinking that this beepy 80s music sounds about like how my insides feel right now. I am drinking a drink with lots of espresso in it, which is fantastic because I never drink coffee, and I was up at 6 AM after going to bed at 1 AM because I woke up with an idea for a lecture that I just had to make a note about. Two hours and eight sticky notes later, the sticky note pad was empty, so I dragged my ass out of bed, and went to my office to get more sticky notes, intending to go back to sleep when my brain was empty. 

Four hours, 2,369 words, and a Tarot reading for a nice person with an ex who really needs to apologize later, I had a lecture on the Empress Tarot card that I had scheduled myself to start thinking about on Monday. Pleased with my shockingly unexpected productivity, I woke up my partner. 

My partner came out of their room rubbing their eyes while I covered my eggs with Sriracha hoping the pain would turn me into a human, and we did the, “How are you?” thing...after I shoved my laptop in their face and insisted that they See What I Did and listen to a very inspiring slam poem and see this hilarious tumblr meme. (I’m Leo rising, and they have a Leo sun, and we both have Mars in Gemini. This is how we do.)

“I’m depressed,” they said. 

“But you’re depressed all the time lately,” I said. “I know you have a Scorpio moon, but that Leo sun has got to be in there somewhere, doesn’t it?”

(Yes, this is actually how we talk.)

“Well, I’m not really depressed,” they said. “I want to be working on The App. But I’m so tired. I pretty much do nothing else but work on The App and work on work-work, and the sun is out, and I’m afraid that if I don’t get out in the sun, I’m going to be actually depressed, but I can’t think about anything else.”

“Let me see your chart,” I said. They dutifully pulled Astro.com up on their weird not really a phone thing with that sigh particular to people who live with doctors and astrologers, and I looked at it and shook my head and said, “It’s just what I thought. You have Saturn everywhere.” 

“What does this mean?” my partner asked.

“Well,” I said. “Steven Forrest says that when you’re going through a Saturn transit, you have a choice between being depressed and being exhausted.”

“What do you think I should do?” they asked. 

“Well, I’m going through a Saturn transit, too,” I said. “I got five hours of sleep last night, and I have this great idea for a post about Saturn, and I really should do my daily quota of readings. I only did one this morning, and I promised Odin I’d do four readings a day (except when [stuff] because you don’t make a promise to Odin and forget the “except when [stuff]”), and I’ve got this super-long lecture to write on the astrological signs that is getting kind of tedious, so I should probably get on that before I rewrite my syllabus. Again. Do you want to go to a coffeeshop and work?”  

Why the hell would Saturn anyone think this is a good idea?

Saturn is a little bit like that coach who knows exactly what you’re capable of and drives you to ride the limits of your endurance every moment of practice. Saturn is the part of you that says, “Alright. You’ve been saying that you’re going to write an astrology book for six minutes now. It’s about time you got on that. You have five minutes and fifteen seconds to get that done.” 

Other Saturn maxims are...

There is no time but the present, so you’d better do it now.

“Yes” is always the right answer. Until you reach your limit. Then stop.

Death is the final limit. Except you believe in life after death, so there’s no reason to stop now.

You don’t know what you’re capable of until you throw up.

If you were more spiritually evolved, you would be concentrating instead of humming “Beat It” and glaring at the Gemini woman who won’t stop talking about basketball.

Saturn transits are the things you’re really glad you went through in retrospect. Because if you’re thinking about a Saturn transit, it means it’s over now, and you’re sure, if you think about it for a minute, you can think of some kind of pithy cliche about building character. 

Or if you claim to be some kind of evolutionary astrologer, you can point to your chart and say, “Well, until Saturn passed through my House of Home, I moved every sixth months, and since that transit, I’ve finally gotten to the place in my personal evolutionary journey where I have the patience to spend five years with the same squealing ceiling fan in the laundry room whose switch I always bump when I’m carrying a load of laundry.” 

When I’m not going through a Saturn transit myself--I’ve been in a Saturn transit since I started studying astrology-- I expect I will say all of this in a serene astrologer voice that assures you I’ve been there and understand and know that everything is going to be okay. This is what I think because that is the voice every astrologer I’ve ever heard uses whenever they talk about Saturn. Until that happens, I’ll write about Saturn on the internet, and you all can supply the serene astrologer voice for your damned selves.

(Did you know that there are some astrologers who think that it’s totally weird that if you say Saturn really fast it kind of sounds like Satan?)* 

How do you know if you’re having a Saturn transit?

If you are between 27 and 30 years old (or in your 50s or 90s...in which case, I should probably tell you this isn’t Facebook...), you’re almost definitely going through your Saturn return. Some astrologers say that Saturn returns last from 27-35, but that’s cheating.

Another way to tell if you’re having a Saturn transit is find a chart of the moment. (There’s one on the front page of astro.com.) Look for the symbol that looks like a 5 that can’t quite get its shit together in the list and note the number just to the right of it. Then look at your chart and look for any planets that have the same number or +/- about 5. If you do, you’re fucked Saturn has your number I’m sorry.

* You just whispered “Saturn...Satan” in your head, didn’t you?

[authorkylehartman]

New ask game for writers

1. Favorite place to write.

In a room alone on my laptop, however I’ve been poor lately and my laptop is broken, so I’ve been writing on my phone. I come to enjoy writing on my lunch break at work in my car.

2. Favorite part of writing.

It would probably have to be the world building as far as the villain is concerned and showing them off to the reader.

3. Least favorite part of writing.

Being distracted

4. Do you have writing habits or rituals?

Not really. I just do it. I used to have to take a bath and getting my mind working before sitting down are writing.

5. Books or authors that influenced your style the most.

There are things always being added to this list. First off, I’d be amiss to not mention that me having any sort of style is thanks to Micheal Creighton. I was always very creative and good at writing, but in 2009 I had read Next not long earlier and decided to write a story of my own that I am now embarrassed of. 

Anyway, Max Hathorne who writes Kronos Rising was a huge influence. I might not write the same kind of science fiction as him, but the way he approaches things, including the villains and Kornosaurus/ Kraken inspired me to added scence in the Zoey series that center around the villain, lord Neball. 

Neal Asher’s solid world and character building left me in awe as I read the Transformation series, this has inspired me to do a better job with those aspects. 

George R.R. Martin has inspired me in similar ways, but also to not always be afraid to have to many characters. Sometimes it fits and works best with a series.

6. Favorite character you ever created.

Oh damn, that is a loaded question. On one hand I’ve got a character named Haley who is extremely depressed, abused and also has a lot of anxiety and some addictions. I don’t think a depressed character has been written to this extreme in a novel, at least that I can remember.

Zoey, is my first love obviously. She is the title character to the first series I ever started creating. The title character to an absolutely massive series. There is reason enough in that for her to be my favorite.

Randy would have to have a place high up on this list because he is the main hero for most of the Zoey series, I can’t give away why he isn’t actually. Though I highly enjoy his personality despite his life threatening flaws.

Hollie is a character in the Zoey series that comes in much later, but I quite enjoy her as well.

I also have a soft spot of a character named Eric in a store that is very nearly ready to be written, Let it Die. He’s the main.

7. Favorite author.

Micheal Creighton

8. Favorite trope to write.

I don’t feel I have one. Though sometimes I’ll be writing a scene and one will pop into mind and I’ll have to insert it somewhere.

9. Least favorite trope to write.

Again, I don’t have one. I don’t go out of my way, they just pop into mind.

10. Pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.

Neal Asher would probably be my number one, especially since Creighton couldn’t happen. Obviously it would have to be a book that takes place in space. I think I might show him the small outline I have for a novel I have currently named Collapsing Universe.

11. Describe your writing process from scratch to finish.

It depends. The Zoey series is a terrible example. For them, I really only do the plot of the novel, write down a description by chapter, sometimes it has to be tweaked during the writing process. It also isn’t very long. For a series that is typically 200 to 300 thousand words a book, the outline might stretch twenty pages. In comparison Cruel World has over ten pages for it’s outline and I don’t think it will hit sixty thousand words. Let It Die, a novel I haven’t put much pen to paper for, so to speak, I started with writing down a description for it. Then I detailed it out more with a chapter by chapter outline. Then I went and read through it many, many times and added on. The outline is over twenty pages for what will be a typical sized novel, 90 to 100 thousand words. Next is to do character details, though I will probably read through the outline before and after this step. Then I will start fleshing out the manuscript. After I finish that, I will read it and edit, read it and edit, read it and edit. (I’m a perfectionist.) Then I’ll have others read it and edit it from there. Then I’ll read it and edit it. Hopefully get a publisher behind it at this point.

12. How do you deal with self-doubts?

I honestly try to ignore them. If I can’t I will actually read chapters that are about Lord Neball from the Zoey series. It’s still my favorite writing that I’ve ever done.

13. How do you deal with writers block?

Sometimes I will actually step back for a few days or a week or two and just read other peoples work. If nothing else it might inspire me to continue or give me a new idea.

14. What’s the most research you ever put into a book?

Zoey. I have probably put in three days worth of research just with the first novel which has gone through peer revision and now overhaul inspired by Martin and Asher. I’ve probably put in another twelve plus for the second book which sits at a thrid of the way done.

15. Where does your inspiration come from?

The desire to write. The desire to have someone read my work. To have someone say they got lost in the book and couldn’t put it down. I don’t care about fame or fortune. Right now I make roughly 2,000 dollars a month, if writing started doing that steadily, I’d quite my job and be happy with that for the rest of my life.

16. Where do you take your motivation from?

Reading. Either what others have published or what I have written.

17. On avarage, how much writing do you get done in a day?

I typically write about a thousand words. In a week it could be about ten thousand.

18. What’s your revision or rewriting process like?

Hell. I’ll want so desperately to be done, but I go through my manuscripts over and over until I feel like it flows well enough and moves at the right pace, and everything else enough to share with others.

19. First line of a WIP you’re working on.

Haley lays under her covers in her room which is somewhere around seventy nine degrees. The only thing that is good in her opinion. She however is not sleeping peacefully. Laying on her side, her body is struggling with something that is not just in her head. 

That is the first paragraph for Cruel world. The first line isn’t the most exciting, but I think the paragraph sets it up well.

   20. Post a snippet of a WIP you’re working on.

This one I must preface. Lord Neball has finally turned on those that thought of her as a slave and this scene has her with the leader, the one who had been keeping her as a slave until her evil side awoken. I love this because leading up to this you have seen how, sick, vile, twisted, and depraved Neball can be.

"This time, I'll let you finish," she whispers into his ear. True to her words she squeezes him as tightly as she can and feels him begin to finish inside her. Aliessense lifts herself back up to a sitting position on top of him. "I am no longer, Aliessense," she breaths fire through her hate filled words and Dalient opens his eyes. The most fearful expression crosses his face that she has ever seen, as he looks up at her. "I am Lord Neball," she bellows at him. I am Death, Dalient thinks. A blinding light fills the room and the last word is stuck on repeat. Death is what the word Neball means in their language. After a moment, the light disappears, along with his head. That is one wound Dalient will not suffer through.

21. Post the last sentence you wrote in one of your WIP’s.

This is from Zoey: The Intergalactic Fighting Tournament (Second book). She is having a real tough time of things as of late and is about to figure out why, but that is actually in the next paragraph. It’s a very huge why.

"I know you are. I am far from angry with you. I'm worried. Admittedly I am afraid. Zoey, please, don't be afraid to tell me what is going on, if you have anything at all that you are hiding." Randy tells her, wrapping his arms around her. Not so oddly Zoey now feels safer and more relieved.

22. How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied and a project is ultimately done for you?

It depends. I can see Cruel World getting one or two drafts. Zoey, as longer books, I can see as many as five or six... or seven.

23. Single or multi POV, and why?

Cruel World is for the most part single, until the end of the second to last chapter and the final chapter. Zoey will end up having had ten plus. Let it Die, two or three. Departure is the first book in my Argoes series of four books. It will have one predominate one and maybe two or three others throughout.

24. Poetry or prose, and why?

I’m going to say neither, but I do do poetry, mostly from a dark place.

25. Linear or non-linear, and why?

I prefer linear, but sometime there might be so story lines slightly further along, thinking from Zoey. I don’t really use non-linear though.

26. Standalone or series, and why?

Both. Though I have more love for the stories that are a series.

27. Do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished? 

I don’t like to share until I’ve gutted my work with a chef’s knife.

28. And who do you share them with?

People who like to read. I don’t really know to many other authors.

29. Who do you write for?

Me

30. Favorite line you’ve ever written. I like the lines that shatter either the readers mind or a character, though I can’t exactly think of a favorite line.

31. Hardest character to write.

Haley

32. Easiest character to write.

Zoey. She flows so well.

33. Do you listen to music when you’re writing?

Yes. Mostly Black Metal, but sometimes if something fits well, I’l switch it up for the scene.

34. Handwritten notes or typed notes?

Typed

35. Tell some backstory details about one of your characters in your story ________.

I can’t give away much about Zoey without revealing the entire mystery of the series.

Randy is not human. He is a species called Avant. He isn’t the most powerful Avant to ever exist. He actually isn’t even one of the most powerful warriors in the universe currently, but he is the most powerful protaginist in the series.

36. A spoiler for Zoey.

Zoey is a key to a lot of things. Much more than just say Randy’s hidden power. Far more significant things. Let’s just say that a certain creature that is bored and spans the multiverse more than knows of her.

37. Most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you.

”If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.” - Stephen King

38. Have you shared your outline of your story Depature (book one of Argoes) with someone? If so, what did they think of it?

My girlfriend. She liked it, but I had to overhaul half of the opening part of the book. She doesn’t really like love stories and it had a small one. Though I never wanted that to be much of the book. So it works better without it.

39. Do you base your characters of real people or not? If so, tell us about one.

I have done so with one, but that was it. The character Grant Stewart in the Zoey series is based off a friend of mine.

40. Original Fiction or Fanfiction, and why?

Original Fiction. It’s more satisfying to create your own characters and world.

41. How many stories do you work on at one time?

I have been writing both Cruel World and Zoey this year, but more so Zoey for the last month.

42. How do you figure out your characters looks, personality, etc.

A lot of thinking and looking around. I have started trying to use the profile sheets that pop up on here to see how that works.

43. Are you an avid reader?

Yes, but I haven’t read a book in the last few weeks. Not since I finished Infinity Engine by Neal Asher.

44. Best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

Probably that my characters in Zoey are so exciting and relatable. I was told by a beta that they were excited for what was coming next while they read my original “final” draft of Zoey The Avant Rises.

45. Worst piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

Hmm. not sure I remember. Anything that isn’t helpful I tend to forget about.

46. What would your story Zoey look like as a tv show or movie? 

Probably similar to The Expanse or Defiance, but with more fighting and more time spent on Earth than there is with the Expanse. Also a lot more school settings at least at first. After the first few seasons, because a movie would be impossible. It wouldn’t have much for school scenes.

47. Do you start with characters or plot when working on a new story?

Plot. The main character comes with that usually and I flesh out a outline with them and add characters from there and expand on the outline. Somewhere in there I usually get a story name.

48. Favorite genre to write in.

Science Fiction. Zoey, Argoes, Collapsing Universe are stories, the first two being series that I am working on or planning out that are Science Fiction.

49. What do you find the hardest to write in a story, the beginning, the middle or the end?

The beginning. except for Zoey, most everything comes pretty easy with the series, at least so far.

50. Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.

I once seriously considered one from a dream I had. There was a staircase that went all the way down to “hell” and there were wicked creatures at the bottom of the mile upon mile long staircase. (sounds like a Stephen King book)

51. Describe the aesthetic of your story Cruel World in 5 sentences or words.

Oppressively depressing and dark.

52. How did writing change you?

I have an obsession now. I also imagine far more then I should in my daily life. It gets me in trouble sometimes.

53. What does writing mean to you?

Everything. I can’t live without it now. Nowhere to jot down my ideas and stories would be devastating. 

54. Any writing advice you want to share?

If you can handle going through the worst hell to get your story written then do it. If you can’t torture yourself, then writing isn’t for you. After that we can go from there.

[joshwritesforu]

The Wonderful Winston - Part 3, Candy Gram

Content Warning: Slurs

Read Part 1 here

Read Part 2 here

Harris Nguyen is very tired. The bags under his eyes seem to pull his entire face down with them. He has messy, patchy facial hair that just screams “yes, I am indeed a boy turning into a man.” He stands in the gas stop quick-mart candy aisle. He reaches for the Peanut M&Ms, but stops when he hears a noise. He turns and sees a woman pushing a stroller. He looks back at the candy. Peanut M&Ms. He quickly snatches them and stuffs the bag quietly into his hoodie pocket. He then swipes a pack of Twizzlers, slipping them into his jeans. Harris finally takes a package of two Twinkies and puts those in his hoodie pocket, carefully placing them next to the Peanut M&Ms and clasping his hands together in the pocket so to make the act more believable, and stop the plastic rustling noises. He then takes a bag of Hot Cheetos to the counter.

“Two fifty-eight.” The clerk never even bothers looking up at Harris. It’s 2 a.m., after all. Everyone’s just about dead inside. Harris hands over three dollar bills.

“Keep it.” He quickly walks out, and successfully gets past the automatic door. Success. Harris has pulled off yet another Ocean’s Eleven-style heist with efficiency and believability. He’d personally rate this an 8/10.

Harris promised Mr. Winston he would stop stealing. He promised he’d stop doing most of the things he usually does, actually, but stealing was a big one. And Harris wanted to keep the promise, really and truly, but committing was harder than he could have ever expected. It was just so easy, and what, was the gas station going to fold because some kid took six bucks worth of junk food?

Although he did make the promise.

Five months ago, Harris broke Tommy Bautista’s jaw. When Tommy ran to the office and Harris realized he was in deep shit, he went straight to Mr. Winston’s classroom. He didn’t really know why. Maybe it was because Mr. Winston was one of maybe two teachers in his lifetime who didn’t actively hate him.

“You gotta help me out, Mr. Winston.”

“What’s wrong, Harris? You got questions about the test?”

Harris looked at Mr. Winston like he just asked if dogs could fly.

“What? No. I just punched Tommy and it looks like he’s real hurt. I think I really screwed up.”

Mr. Winston closed his laptop.

“Why did you punch him?”

“He called me a faggot! Multiple times!”

“Was there a reason you went straight to violence?”

“Uh, yeah, he called me a faggot. Like, five times.”

“Okay. Here’s what you do. You apologize. Even if you don’t think you have to, do it anyway.”

“Why? I’m not a faggot.”

“Stop saying that. Let me finish. Call me in. I’ll tell them about your improvement in my class, and how I think your behavior is improving as well. And promise them it won’t happen again. Seem sincere and, even better, be sincere. I think they’d take that.”

“Tommy doesn’t have to do shit? That’s fucked, man.”

“Listen. Tommy’s an asshole, but he doesn’t give the teachers and staff trouble. You’re on thin ice, kid. And Tommy can be an asshole before he’s hit with real-world shit that’ll leave him crying, but you still have a chance. I really think you do. But not if you get expelled.”

“Whoa. Are you allowed to say that about students?” “Are you allowed to punch a guy?”

Harris sat down.

“Do what I tell you. I can get you out of this. But only if you promise to give a damn, if not in any other class, at least mine. Okay?”

“Alright. Fine.”

“Good.”

Mr. Winston extended his hand. Harris reluctantly shook it. And lo and behold, Mr. Winston was right. Harris only took a week’s worth of lunch detention, and in return he started showing up to class. It was hard at first; Harris would barely stay awake long enough to catch what Mr. Winston’s opening line of his Great Gatsby lecture was. His eyes would wander to the girls in class, and he could only glimpse the notes on the board when he was switching views from Andi to Jennifer. But Mr. Winston wouldn’t stop trying. It really was like one of those teacher-student prestige Oscar-bait movies, but with way more dick jokes flung around. Harris came into Mr. Winston’s classroom during empty hours, considering he didn’t really have anywhere else to be, and no one else to hang out with. Every day, something new would come up.

“Man, Daisy’s a real bitch, huh?”

Mr. Winston would chuckle. “I’m not so sure about that. I mean, consider Tom’s behavior, and how that might affect how she acts. Maybe she’s just as pained as Gatsby is, and we just don’t see it as much.”

“Yeah. Or maybe she’s a bitch.”

After a few weeks, things did start getting better. Harris’s grade went from an F to a C-. Mr. Winston got to improve a student. And they both made a new friend.

Yep. Real Oscar-bait, prestige film bullshit.

Later on, Harris had an idea. Kissler Oaks High, for some reason, did not have a book club. So with a newfound inclination to read rather than beat up kids on the reg, Harris started one. Mr. Winston would be advisor. They met every Thursday at lunch, and the club had six core members: Kelly, Lopez, Omar, Sheila, Gretchen, and Toby. It was a tight-knit group, a collection of black sheep kids who didn’t seem to belong anywhere else. The type of kids who were actively willing to discuss a novel for their precious lunch hour. This was insane. Harris had actually started a club, a club for nerds, and he enjoyed it. He truly had become what he once hated.

Harris sits on the curb. He takes out his peanut M&Ms and tears into them like some feral animal digging into his prey. He chooses out a green one, and pops it. He rolls it around in his mouth, lets the candy coating melt, and chews the soft chocolate. If everyone knew this is how Harris ate sweets, he’d probably get endless shit over it.

He looks up at the stars. They’re sparse, but at least he can still spot some, even discounting the satellites and occasional helicopter. He swears that he was able to see more of them when he was younger.

His phone rings. COME ON AND SLAM, AND WELCOME TO THE JAM! He looks at the caller ID. It’s Kelly. He picks up.

“Harris?”

“Hey Kelly, what’s up.”

“What are you doing right now?”

“...Nothing much.”

“You know how Mr. Winston didn’t show up to class for like two weeks?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know why?” “Thought he was sick or something.” “Dude, I think he’s gone missing.”

Harris chuckles. “Sure.”

“I’m serious.” “Why do you say that?” “Considering people are saying that he’s gone missing. Check the news.” Harris tries to check on his phone, but it won’t load.

“Hold on, I’m out of data.” Harris walks over to the newsstand, and picks up a paper. He flips through it and

gets to the missing persons section. In a sea of lost kids and elderly folk, sure enough, Mr. Winston’s profile is splotched on the page. He has a beaming smile and wears a cardigan.

“Holy shit,” Harris says. He closes and opens the newspaper as if the image is a hallucination that would go away.

“Why hasn’t the school said anything about this?” His voice gets more strained.

“They’re late to everything. And I assume they’re waiting on more details.”

“Details? What details? This is happening because there aren’t any details!” He slaps the paper back in its plastic container.

“Yeah, I don’t know man.”

“What are we gonna do?”

“Don’t think we can do anything. The cops are already on it.”

“Sure, like the cops have a healthy thirty-something dude on the top of their priority list. They probably assume he’s gone hitchhiking or something.”

“I don’t know about that. But besides, we’re kids, Harris. We’ll just have to wait, I guess.”

“This is horseshit.”

“I know. Seeya in class.”

Monday. Literature class. For the sixth day in a row, the students have had to suffer under the boot of the teaching style of a lame-ass, slow-talking, nasal-voiced substitute teacher. Harris can’t even remember the man’s name. When he takes roll, it’s like the scene from Ferris Bueller, except far less funny and far more tragic.

“Mark Allen?”

“Here.”

“Jacy… Is it Jacy? How do you say that?”

“Jacy.”

“Jacy. Thank you. Jacy Anderson?”

“Here.”

“Luis. Sorry, how do you pronounce that? Soft or hard ‘S’?”

Thursday. Lunch period. It’s been three more days without Mr. Winston, and now the club is just seven kids gathered around an awkward circle.

“So, uh, how’s it going. What did you all think about-” Harris looks at the cover. “Slaugher-House Five?”

Sure, Harris was the club president, but he wasn’t exactly a great conversation leader.

“I don’t know. I thought there was too much cursing,” Sheila starts.

“Shut the fuck up, Sheila. Why are you always bitching about the dumbest shit?” Lopez bites back.

“Guys, calm down. Even though Sheila’s being an idiot right now, that doesn’t mean you can all have a free-for-all Hell in a Cell action bloc,” says Omar.

Harris zones out. He whispers to Kelly: “You’re in charge.” He walks to the principal’s office and knocks on the secretary’s desk.

“Is Mr. Gonzalez in?” Harris asks.

“Yes, what do you need?”

“To see him.”

“Let me just call in-”

Before he can finish, Harris storms straight to Principal Gonzalez’s office. At this point, he knows far too well how to get there.

The secretary gets up.

“Hey, I need to call in-”

Harris opens the door and sees Gonzalez eating a salad. He sighs, and pushes his lunch aside.

“Why didn’t John call you in?”

“Where’s Mr. Winston?”

“He’s out.”

“Oh really? Cause last time I checked… anywhere that wasn’t you guys, he’s actually missing. For real, missing.”

Gonzalez sighs. “Close the door.” Harris closes the door and sits down.

Gonzalez clasps his fingers together and places his hands on his desk.

“Harris. We don’t want to cause more panic than necessary.”

“A teacher’s missing!”

“Yes, but telling everyone won’t be productive. The police are doing their best, and we don’t know the extent of the situation.”

“The extent of the situation is Mr. Winston could be in deep trouble!” “And there’s nothing we can do about it, Mr. Nguyen. It does nothing to ease the problem and I’m afraid announcing it will only make things far worse. If you’re so inclined, though, there is something I believe you can do.”

“What’s that.”

“There’s a hotline where you can call in and give any information you can. I’m sure you have something you can give. Here’s the number.”

Gonzalez scribbles down a phone number and hands it to Harris.

“Alright. Thanks.”

Harris leaves and Gonzalez digs into his salad.