#as if I'd ever NOT pick him for something like this.

[the-secret-formulaone]

DARLING, HOLD MY HAND

prompt: your new manicure has oscar's brain short circuiting

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

word count: ~1.8k

warnings: 18+, cursing, handjob, very tame

a/n: this was purely impulsive and self-indulgent. i got my nails done today and this is how i feel about them and how i'd like my boyfriend (if i had one) to react.

this oneshot is very fluff and only a tinsy bit spicy. the smut is not the main point hence why it's not my best work but it's enjoyable! [and a bit nasty hehe]

this is my offering to the oscar girlies who constantly keep me fed with his fluffy fics. i owe the oscar girlies everything. they are some of the best writers in this platform. idk if it's them or oscar which have that secret ingredient.

enjoy!

You love to get your nails done. Every couple of weeks you make an appointment and go get your nails done without fault.

Oscar knew not to mess with that.

From the day he met you, you've had your nails done. He can't recall if he's ever seen you without nail polish and it's been a couple of years since you got together.

You often mention how having your nails bare makes you feel naked. It’s part of your identity it’s what makes you…you.

Oscar doesn't mind in the slightest. It's one of your quirks and he respects it. Whenever you come home with new nails you'll show him excitedly and he'll tell you they look good promptly returning to your lives.

You've taught him to always remind you if he has an important event to attend or a vacation planned so you can fit in your nail appointment before then. Yes, you cared about your hair and your makeup and your outfits but your nails where everything. A priority.

Oscar has been witness to the catastrophe that is breaking a nail. He will follow along your lead and nod at how it sucks and it’s the worst thing to ever happen.

He thinks it's cute how you will look at your hand and huff in annoyance at the mismatched length the days leading up to the appointment. The same one you bumped up on your schedule.

The one thing Oscar never counted on was his brain chemistry changing after one particular manicure.

He's home chilling watching TV. You've been gone for a couple of hours to get your nails done. He doesn't dare to make plans at that time knowing you'll chose to get your nails done over doing whatever with him.

You'd never cancel on your nail tech the same day, especially after browsing for new nail art for days in preparation. He doesn't argue with your routine lets you be. Oscar knows the drill already.

The door opening and your keys jingling tells him everything he needs to know. "Osc, I'm home," you call out to him, leaving your bag and coat by the door.

You pad down to the living room where he's sprawled out on the couch, grey sweatpants and hoodie covering his fit body. You smile at the sight, you have such a lovely boyfriend.

"Hey babe, how was your appointment?" He asks, looking away from the TV to spare you a glance.

"It was great. Look at my nails," you squeal, falling beside him on the couch and showing him your nails. You stretch your arms in front of you, putting your hands right on his eye line.

You finally bit the bullet and got the famous cat eye nails. Tired of the Pinterest girlies living their best lives with sparkly nails without you, you paid the extra fee to join them.

The nude color shimmered in magnetically designed patters with every move of your fingers. You spent the whole way home oohing and awing at how spectacular they looked. They say money can't buy happiness but you're pretty damn happy with your manicure.

Oscar stares blankly, watching the shimmering polish catch the light. He's never had an opinion on your choice of color or design, everything you picked suit you and was pretty even if you voiced your disappointment about how your idea panned didn’t pan out as you imagined.

But this manicure in particular made his brain short circuit. He felt like a magpie chasing after something shiny. The more you wiggled your fingers, the more tranced he was.

"Osc?"

"That's pretty neat. Is this the first time you do that color?" He asks, knowing the answer because there's no way he missed this before.

"Yeah, it's a fairly new popular type of polish. Had to pay extra though," you shrug, taking your varnished fingers away from his face. He almost had half a mind to pull your hands back to keep starring.

"Huh," he says, returning to the TV as you settle more comfortably beside him to scroll on your phone.

As the days go by he's hyper focused on your nails. Always observing the cute way the light hits them and how they make your hands look very attractive. In his eyes it's so classy and sexy. Oscar can't explain it properly.

It’s not like your hands changed or the shape of your nails. It’s the eye catching shimmer that has him in a trance. He panics on the inside about seemingly developing a new kink based on the color of your nails. It’s a new low even for him.

You and Oscar aren't the type to hold hands all the time, but ever since you changed your manicure he's been holding them non stop to watch the fine glitter shift with the angle of the light.

You're the type of person to talk with your hands so whenever you're having a conversation with your boyfriend you catch his eyes following your hands. He's obsessed and you love it.

You say nothing, letting him have his fun. You won't ever turn down your boy for admiring one of your favorite things. Your phone is filled with pictures of your new manicure so you understand him perfectly.

Oscar has half the mind to give you more money just so you can tip your nail tech extra. Hell, he'll send them to her with a small thank you note. He feels indebted.

One morning, the brightness of a new day wakes him up. Oscar forgot to shut the blinds the night before. You never do because you like to fall asleep looking at the night sky.

It's cheesy and Oscar teases you about it endlessly, but being the good boyfriend he is he takes on the responsibility of shutting them every night so the sun doesn’t disturb you in the morning.

You're asleep on your side, facing him. Your hand resting between the two of you. The promise ring he gave you glints with the sunlight along with your pretty nails.

He touches the varnish lightly with his finger tips, admiring it once more. Grabbing your hand, he kisses each one of your fingertips, following your hand, your wrist and up your arm.

He might as well take advantage of waking you from your peaceful state after you begged him to the day before. You wanted to see him before he left to work out and meet with his team.

He kisses your shoulder softly, before burying his head on your neck. "Wake up, love," he whispers into your ear. His voice heavy with sleep still.

"Hmm," you whine, throwing your arm around Oscar to hug him close. "Five more minutes," you groan as your nails come up to his head to scratch his head.

"I have to go," he laughs softly, but he relaxes in your arms, enjoying the feel of your nails on his scalp.

"Five more minutes." He can hear the pout on your voice so he stays in place, face on your neck and arm thrown around your waist. Oscar closes his eyes and enjoys the affection you're so freely offering.

Throughout it all, Oscar comes to realize that your nails look the best when your hand is wrapped around his cock with the flash of his phone shining down on them as he records the moment.

He records intimate moments between the two of you often for when he's away on a race and you can't join him. Sometimes the time zone difference don’t let you help him and he has to depend on these videos he has tucked away on a locked folder of his phone.

"Fuck, that's it baby," Oscar groans as your hand pumps his hard cock up and down. You're lying down next to him, kissing his neck while reminding yourself not to leave any hickeys.

Oscar has gotten in trouble for that before.

Your hands are shiny from the lube you applied all over his length to make your job easier. Other times, you'd have your mouth and hands all over him but he requested this so, who are you to say otherwise?

The nail polish and the shimmers pop with the harsh white light of the flash and Oscar knows this will be in his favorites folder for months to come. You swipe his tip with your thumb, stimulating the sensitive area.

Oscar's hips jerk against your hand and a groan spills from his lips. You whisper in his ear, praising him and talking dirty. Comments that will leave him blushing when he randomly remembers them in the middle of the day.

His cock was throbbing and leaking precum all over your palm. "I love it when you get messy, Osc," you brush your lips on the shell of his ear and feel him shiver.

Your teeth sink into his earlobe, making him groan. You're playing dirty, you know Oscar's sweet spot is in his ear.

Oscar moans your name, tearing his gaze from the phone on his hand to press his lips against yours in a wet kiss. He hisses into the kiss as you carefully grip his cock tighter.

"I'm gonna cum," he moans, shutting his eyes tightly as his head falls back. The phone falls on his stomach as he chooses to grasp at the crisp white bedsheets. You grab it with your free hand, finishing his job of recording as you speed up.

His cock is slick with lube and precum, his tip a bright pink as it swells up. You record as your hand slips up and down firmly, Oscar's hips stutter, chasing his release. One of his hands gripping your side tightly as the other joins yours on his cock.

In a matter of seconds, Oscar cums as his moans echo in the dark bedroom. Sticky, white covers his cock, his thighs, his stomach and your hands. You turn the phone in your direction, licking the cum off your fingers, savoring the taste of him. Nails glint mischievously at him. With a cheeky wink, you blow a kiss into the camera and wave, stopping the recording.

It's definitely being saved to his favorites.

Everyone typically hates Monday's unless it's a festive day but not Oscar. Oscar likes them because he can rest after a stressful race weekend.

That was until disaster struck on a Monday and then he understood everyone's hatred of the day.

"Oscar, I'm home," you sing, taking off your shoes and leaving your bag on the table by the door. You bounce into the kitchen excitedly finding him preparing a smoothie.

"Hey babe," Oscar greets you as he drops the fruit into the blender, leaning down when you tug his hoodie to drop a kiss on his cheek.

"Look at my new nails," you giggle, extending your hand in front of his face.

Oscar feels his face fall at the new color varnish. It's a pretty red that compliments your skin well but it's not the cat eye nail polish as he's come to learn it's called. Many men would love the sexy red color and he does like it but he much preferred the other one.

"What happened to the other color?" He lets slip as he holds in his horror.

"What do you mean? Osc, my nails were falling apart, you know I change them every couple of weeks," you say, tilting your head in question.

The polish was starting to lift at the edges and you hate when your hair gets stuck on it. Only Oscar was allowed to pull your hair.

"Oh," he says plainly, hiding his disappointment.

"You don't like them?" You ask him, inspecting the color yourself to see if there was something he noticed that you didn't, but the red color looked perfect.

"No, no," Oscar is quick to reply, grabbing hold of your hands and giving a kiss to the back of each one, "They look perfect as always. I just really liked that other color is all."

"Oh okay," you sigh, pecking his lips, "I'll keep that in mind for the future, Osc."

Something lights up in Oscars eyes. "So you'll get them done like that next time?"

"God no," you giggle, patting his cheek, "We'll be right in the middle of the summer. I was thinking about something bright, like orange!"

Oscar sighs in defeat but he smiles at you and nods. He lets you go do your own thing as he finishes his smoothie. The loud whirring of the blender a representation of how he's crying on the inside.

thoughts?? prayers?? complaints?? applause??

hope you liked it!!

[captain-huggy-bear]

Had an idea: Okay but Keller writing your initials on the tape of his stick and Sarah asks him about it. Not my favourite execution of it, not sure how I feel about it but here you go anyway. Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

He's not the biggest fan of doing media, he does it because he's captain and it's expected. The exception to the rule is mini-mic. Maybe he doesn't want to spend hours on it, but the questions are funny and he likes making jabs at the boys. It's the only reason he doesn't mind so much when Sarah catches him as he's getting his gear on for practice, mini mic in hand.

The first few questions are fun, hypotheticals, the sort of thing that Cools and Doaner would respond to be with 'King' or 'King's cats'. Nothing too deep or serious, stuff Clayton barely has to think about as he ties his skates.

"Clayton, one final question before I let you go, what do the letters on your tape job stand for? Is that reminder to do something or a sentimental thing?" Sarah pushes the mini mic back to him and Clayton can't help it really, can't help that way his smile grows even when having a mini mic and a camera shoved into his face....because the question is ultimately about you and he loves talking about you, almost as much as he loves you.

"These?" He's pulling his stick forward without being asked, showing off the 3 little letters on the tape of his stick near the top, showing it off to the camera like it's a trophy.

"Uh, my girlfriend's initials. She's my good luck charm so this way she's always with me." The way Sarah awws over him while he smiles down at the initials, a letter for each of your first, middle, and last names, has him turning beet red. Flushing brightly because he's the Captain and here he is gushing over having his girlfriend's initials on his stick.

It's Cooley who chimes in as he walks past with a towel around his neck, a wide grin as he pokes fun at Clayton, "Cause he's whipped!" Like Cooley can even talk. He can talk when he's not single as fuck and complaining about it every time he gets drunk.

"Hey, hey! You would be too if you were dating my girlfriend!" Clayton might be whipped, smitten, enamoured, infatuated. Whatever you want to call it, but he'll never be ashamed of it. Fuck, he loves you so much that it's actually scary sometimes. It doesn't matter that he's red in the face, that Sarah's grinning at him with the mini mic still picking up every word he says or that this is definitely going on the Utah Hockey Club tiktok later. All that matters is that he's not going to hide how he feels about his girl. Ever.

"He's got a fair point there, Cools." Kess throws his two cent in, shoving Cools out the way to get to his locker section.

"You saying you have the hots for the Captain's girl?" Cooley gets the biggest shit eating grin on his face at the way Kess flounders, face dropping in horror because shit, he's not trying to hit on his Captain's girlfriend, he doesn't want to die. He's seen how protective Clay gets of you and he doesn't want a hand around his throat (if Kells can reach him without a step ladder that is).

"No! No! Kells, i'd never-"

"Are you saying my girlfriend isn't hot?"

Kess literally freezes, stuck between a rock and a hard place. Not knowing which was the better option, saying Clayton's girlfriend was indeed hot in an effort not to offend, but upsetting Clayton anyway or saying that she wasn't and risk having the Captain still upset with him.

It's the way Clay laughs at him that has Michael nervously laughing back, shoulders relaxing a little, body unfreezing because of course...Kells is joking with him. Of course he's not serious...

Until he is. Until Clay's face drops into a glare, lips pursed tight and eyes narrowing on Kess like he's contemplating 1001 ways to dismantle him.

"But seriously, don't think about my girlfriend like that."

"Aye, aye, Captain. Whatever you say, boss!"

It's Sarah that breaks the moment, grinning at him still as she holds that mini mic in Clay's face because this might be the most entertainment she's had in a while. She loves working with the Utah boys, but this? This is something else.

"You were saying about your girlfriend?"

"Oh, um...y'know she's just good luck, y'know? First game she came to was a win, so I just...I feel better if she's with me on the road." Clay's hand reaches for the back of his neck, rubbing at it nervously. He's back to flushing red, a hand gripping the tape of his stick tightly, thumb unconsciously smoothing over your initials like he does with the back of your hand.

"Does she know her initials are on your stick? That you're such a soppy romantic?" Sarah's already thinking up at least 3 or 4 more video ideas for Clay on the topic especially as Valentine's day gets nearer and nearer.

"No and maybe? I guess she'll find out now though."

"Oh, she definitely will when this goes on the tiktok channel. 100k followers and she's one."

He groans even as he grins because he knows...God, he knows the internet is going to love this one but he can't find it in him to be ashamed or care that much. He's going to love you unashamedly even if that means the internet makes fun of him for it, especially because he knows he's definitely going to get a kiss out of it once you find out. Maybe 3, maybe even 5.

[nulli-bug]

FOR LAIOS

What do your f/o's hugs feel like? he'd give bear hugs I feel like.

What are your favorite dates to have with them? staying home playing video games

What are their favorite dates to have with you? he'd like nature hikes so he can look at all the animals

Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you? he reminds me of the song carry on my wayward song by Kansas. I think laios would pick like a splatoon song or some random weird song. maybe sleepyhead by passion pit?

What's the height difference between you and your f/o? in universe (4'0 vs 6'1) 2 feet 1 inch irl (4'11 vs 6'1) 1 foot 2 inch

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you? 8 or 7?

What's your favorite feature about your f/o? if its physical features I guess his eyes

What do you think they smell like? I don't see him using any fragrances so probably like soap? maybe grass or like something woodsy?

What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love. he likes cooking for people he loves.

Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them? if we slept in the same bed he'd probably lay on me like a dog. like not in a cute way like in a lays on top of you and won't get off way.

What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o? I like the hc that modern laios wears glasses.

What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have? black cat and golden retriever (cringe I know)

What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day? I feel like he'd probably cheer me up by doing something we like. like watching a movie .

Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like? he probably has warm hands. I hc his body temp is on the warmer side and that's why he likes the cold so much.

Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc) forehead kisses because he's SO tall

Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them? cheek kisses

What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o? building lego sets

What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one? random but "I like your hair" if he would ever say that to me id be happy. (a lot of people think my hair looks messy so whenever people compliment it, it makes me strangely giddy. cat is already a nickname so that I guess

What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them? I'd probably call him smart all the time because HE IS. I don't do nicknames, the first name you introduce yourself with is most likely what ill call you if we meet afterwards.

I want everyone to have the chance to ramble about their romantic f/os, so I'm gonna make a reblog game where yall can answer the plethora of questions I'm gonna toss down. Any of the questions you want to answer, as little or as much as you'd like!! I'll read them all. PR.O.SHIP DNI!!! AT ALL! GET OUT-

SO!! SELFSHIPPERS! RIDDLE ME THIS:

What do your f/o's hugs feel like?

What are your favorite dates to have with them?

What are their favorite dates to have with you?

Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you?

What's the height difference between you and your f/o?

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?

What's your favorite feature about your f/o?

What do you think they smell like?

What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love.

Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them?

What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o?

What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have?

What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day?

Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?

Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc)

Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them?

What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o?

What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one?

What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them?

Okay I can't wait to see some answers!! Feel free to reblog as many times with as many f/os as you want. People I'd like to see answer this off the top of my head (but don't have to!!): @moxanji-real @one-winged-dreams @lovesickvalentines @graveluvr @clawingatmy-enclosure @starshakez @jpeg-indulgence @everynya @tropgothships @selfshipping-tboy @amelielovesamaris @pixel-comfort @fl0ralsxgar

[fizzyapplecandy]

The one with the vampire royals and their doll Part 9

Series masterlist

Ateez Seonghwa x Hongjoong x reader

Genres and warnings: vampire Matz x human reader, poly relationship, fluff, mature language, some blood in this chapter, angst, eventual happy ending

Word count: 3.1k

You're finally going over to the men's house for a romantic dinner, but an accident in the kitchen reveals their true nature.

If somebody had told you your life would be filled with dinner dates and museum visits with two gorgeous men, you wouldn't have believed them.

It was entirely possible you were dreaming, but Hongjoong and Seonghwa made sure to remind you how happy they were about your new relationship.

The past two weeks since your first date were hectic - your shop was filled with customers, Yeosang finally came back to spend time with you after the debacle with Wooyoung, and you were taken care of by your new boyfriends.

Huh, you think to yourself. You don't know when you've accepted the fact that these men were yours, and you still haven't told them. It just came naturally, seeing how much time you spent together and how well you three compliment each other.

Hongjoong was there whenever you wanted to learn something new about history. He frequently visited museums and other antique shops with you, listening attentively to your rambles and praising you in your knowledge. Hongjoong always had a fun fact to add, and you were amazed by that. It sometimes felt like he was present when things were happening in the past.

Seonghwa was different. He loved doing the most mundane things with you, like food shopping or drinking coffee in rustic cafes. The library was a place you visited together, and he recommended books based on how much he liked the authors. Just like with Hongjoong, he spoke about them like he'd met and got to know their personalities.

All in all, the time you spent with them was just what you needed for a confidence boost. You started paying attention to your clothing, wanting to impress them with your fashion sense. Seonghwa noticed, and the next day your hands were full of bags, each containing pieces you never imagined you'd own. You tried refusing, but he insisted he was there to spoil you on all levels.

Hongjoong gave you jewelry, and he told you it wasn't possible to return because it was handmade by him. That made the earrings and necklaces even more special, so you cherished them dearly.

At the three week mark since you started being more serious about each other, the boys made a suggestion while the three of you were drinking tea in your shop. The routine of picking you up from work and driving you back home was still the same, but they sometimes came by together just because they missed you.

"So, doll, what do you say about a cozy dinner with two handsome men?" Hongjoong asked, relaxing on the sofa.

"Hmm..." You pretend to think about it, and Seognhwa chuckled from his position by the window.

"I'd have to think about it. You know, I have two very jealous men by my side almost every day. I don't know what they'd say." You replied, coming over and sitting opposite.

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow.

"Jealous? When were we ever-"

"This morning when that lovely gentleman picked up my bag from the ground." You cut him off quickly, smiling into your cup.

Seonghwa walked over to your sofa, sitting down on the arm of it. He placed his hand on your hair, ruffling it up.

"He was looking at you too long for my liking." The grumpy man said, hiding his face behind his tea.

"Hongjoong, my love, what about that poor mailman yesterday? He was just trying to deliver her package."

You looked up at Seonghwa, amused by his decision to partake in the teasing.

Hongjoong stood up. "Yeah, well, he... Oh give me a break! You're the one who shooed away that waiter from yesterday!"

Seonghwa gasped. "Ah! That guy was clearly waiting for a chance to slip her his number! It was totally reasonable."

"Boys. And I say boys because grown men don't bicker like this, please, calm down. Don't you think I would be sitting here enjoying my afternoon with the two of you if I wanted another person?"

Hongjoong sat back down, reaching over to caress your hand.

"My doll is right, as usual. We do sound like idiots, my star."

Seonghwa smiled at his husband. "That she is."

"So, dinner?" You asked, looking at both of them.

"Yes, yes. Dinner at our mansion, if our lovely girl is interested." The man sitting above you said.

"Well, I'd love to. Should I dress in fancy clothes?"

"No need, doll. Just be as comfortable as you want." Hongjoong replied.

"Well then, I'm sold. When did you plan on it?"

"Tonight, actually. If you don't have any plans with your little friend."

"Oh, no. Yeosang is too preoccupied with Wooyoung. He had a misshap at work, so he's sporting a broken finger. He needs to nurse him back to health."

The men snickered. Somehow, you had a sense that they didn't particularly like Wooyoung, but you may be wrong.

"Typical. What do you recon he was doing, Seonghwa?"

His husband smirked, hand running through your hair again.

"Probably stirring up trouble, but let's not talk about him. My sweet, what would you like to eat? Any preference for tonight?"

You pretended to think about it, but a nice idea dawned on you right then.

"How about we cook together? Hongjoong can be there for support, of course, but I want to make a meal with you."

"Hey, I can cook!"

You and Seonghwa glanced at each other, trying not to laugh in the poor man's face.

"My love, I say this with my whole heart. You can't."

Seognhwa made his way to Hongjoong, placing a kiss on his pouting husband's head. He turned towards you, extending his arm for you to take. The two of you now crowded Hongjoong, who still had a sour expression. Wanting to make him feel better, you bent down to give him a peck on the cheek.

He lit up instantly, grabbing you by the waist and placing you in his lap.

Ever since that night you shared a kiss with both of them, you were too afraid to do it again. Yes, they made clear just how much they wanted you, but you didn't want to throw yourself at them. They were patient, and admired your politeness.

That didn't mean there were no kisses at all. Oh, no, that would be a tragedy, wouldn't it? Hongjoong regularly pecked you on the lips first thing in the morning, and Seonghwa left a feather like kiss whenever you said your goodbyes in the evening.

Even now, as you sat on Hongjoong's lap, he couldn't help but place his hands in your cheeks and lightly kiss your glossy lips.

"Well that's not fair, I want one too."

You looked up at Seonghwa's pout and motioned for him to lean down. You weren't the most confident in your moves, but you kissed him as well, pulling away with red cheeks. Your eyes widened as you realised something.

"Oh, maybe you meant Hongjoong, I'm so sorry."

The men laughed, looking at you with eyes full of adoration.

"No, darling, I wanted one from you. I get plenty of kisses from my husband, don't worry."

"You could as well, if you wanted." Hongjoong added, lightly playing with your hair.

"Well, I... I do. I really do, but... You know."

Seognhwa urged you to continue.

You took a deep breath. "Well, you're married, and I still don't know how this works between us. I wouldn't want to impose or anything like that."

"Y/N, my doll, you don't know how much we want you. Every day, every minute. From dusk till dawn. Don't be shy if you want us too. We would be more than happy to receive your affection." Hongjoong said, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"If that's the case, then..."

You pulled him away from you, and smashed your lips onto his. He was stunned for a second, but recovered pretty quickly. Your lips moved like they knew each other for ages, and you were afraid you'd never get over the feeling of them.

Before you could get to carried away, you stood, leaving Hongjoong frozen on the sofa. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was irregular. It seemed like he wasn't kidding when he said what an effect you had on them.

A light touch to your shoulder made you turn aroud and look at Seognhwa. His gaze was darker, his lips pulled into a smirk. You knew he was waiting, so you threw yourself into his arms and your lips found their way to each other.

Their kisses were different, and you loved it. While Hongjoong was more aggressive, Seognhwa had a lighter, more sensual approach. He ran his fingers through your hair, placing them at the base of your neck. You noticed his fascination with your bare neck quickly, so you purposely wore clothing that exposed it. If it made him admire you so much, you'd do it every day.

Seonghwa pulled away first, looking into your eyes. You noticed how the colour of his irises sometimes changed to a darker shade of brown, but you assumed it was due to the lighting.

"Doll... We should do this all the time." He whispered, placing his hands around your waist.

"We should? How are we going to do anything else if we just kiss?" You asked, pretending to think about it.

"We'll figure something out."

Movement from behind you made you turn around to see Hongjoong standing up. He looked like he got himself together, and he motioned towards Seognhwa.

"My star, I think we should go and leave Y/N to do her business. We'll pick you up tonight for our dinner. Sorry, doll, we have some work we need to get done."

His statement was curt, and you could see there was no room for discussion. Seonghwa nodded, smiling at you before detangling himself.

You waved as they were pulling away from you shop, heart beating a bit faster after what you did. You couldn't wait for tonight.

.

.

"Hello, again, darling." Seognhwa smiled from the enterance, motioning for you to come along. He made sure you were buckled up in your seat before going over to the driver's side.

"So, is everything prepped and ready?"

"Yes, Hongjoong even chopped some onions. He really wanted to be included, you know?"

You smirked. "Let me guess, you chopped some too in case his ended up on the floor or were mostly thrown away?"

The man next to you laughed. "Silly girl, you know us so well already. But yes, there was another bowl in case of emergency."

The two of you chatted along as he drove away from your town. They already told you their mansion was in the outskirts, for better privacy. They were surrouuby greenery, and by the time you got to the front gate, you managed to explore the whole forest.

"Oh wow..." You gasped as you exited the car. They really lived in a gothic, castle-like house? For some reason, you felt like it fit them perfectly.

The front door opened and Hongjoong went to grab your hand.

"Come on, come on, don't be a slowpoke."

"Hey, hey, careful with our girl." Seonghwa chastised him, following along as you entered their front room. Just like you thought, the place was lavish. Old paintings were the walls, a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling in the living room, and there was also a fireplace. The flame was crackling, giving the home a cozy feel.

"This way to the kitchen, darling."

Seognhwa guided you further until you stood in a kitchen so beautiful, you understood why he spent so much time in it.

"Do you like it? Hongjoong designed everything, and all of the woodwork is handmade."

You took another look around, nodding your head.

"It's lovely. I can't wait to cook in here."

"From now on, you can cook in here whenever you want." Smiling at Seonghwa, you skipped away to the counter and looked at all the ingredients.

"Are we making lasagne?" You asked.

"Ah, yes. I wanted to keep it simple, but tasty."

Hongjoong sat on a stool by the counter and watched as you and his husband went around each other to gather everything you need, except the onions he so expertly chopped. Those were ready to be used.

"Okay, do you want me to grate the cheese for the sauce?" You looked at Seonghwa, holding up a grater.

"Yeah, you do that while I make the meat sauce."

The moment couldn't be any better. You were having fun with the two men, laughing at their stories while telling your own, preparing dinner you'd share in front of the fireplace. There wasn't anything you'd change about them, and yourself, right now. However, life has its strange ways of messing with you, and your carelessness only aided in that.

One moment, you were using the grater and laughing at Hongjoong's joke. In the next, your back was pressed hard against the fridge, Seonghwa's grip holding onto your hand and watching the cut on your finger.

"Ouch! Seonghwa, what are you doing?" You paniced, trying to get out under his tight grip.

"You cut your finger." He said, voice void of emotion.

"I-I did. I scrapped it on the g-grater."

"Seonghwa, let go of Y/N." Hongjoong said from behind the man holding you captive.

"She cut her finger. She's bleeding."

"I know she is, Seonghwa, but you've got to let her go."

Hongjoong tried coming closer to you, but his husband growled almost animalisticly. You watched in shock as his eyes went from a deep brown, to a fiery red in a second.

"You're bleeding, Y/N. It smells so, so delicious."

You're heart was now about to pop out if your chest. Seonghwa's hands tightened around you, his face now dangerously close to your finger. You watched in horror as he licked the blood dripping from it.

"Oh my..." He closed his eyes, and you tried to look for Hongjoong. The other man was rooted in his spot, eyes glazed over in a deeper shade of red. They were the same as Seonghwa's, albeit not so frantic.

"H-Hongjoong, help me, please."

It was like someone slapped him. He managed to keep himself together long enough to pull his husband away. Seognhwa started trashing in his grip, trying to free himself.

"No! Let me go! I want to taste her! I won't hurt her, please!"

Your back was still pressed against the fridge, paralized from shock and fear.

Fear of the two creatures now standing in front of you.

"Calm the fuck down Seonghwa. This is Y/N! Our Y/N! We promised not to drink from her. Do you want to cause her pain?"

You watched as Seonghwa slowly calmed down in his husband's arms, turning his head towards you once he got himself together. The men watched your frightened expression, knowing everything would change now.

"Y/N, my darling, I didn't..."

"No! Please, stay away from me! I want to go, please, let me go!"

Your tears were unstoppable, and Seonghwa's cold heart was breaking into pieces. Hongjoong tried to step closer, but you slid down to the floor and put your hands up to cover yourself.

"Please, I beg you. Whatever you are, just please don't hurt me."

Seonghwa kneeled to be at your height, slowly crawling closer. Hongjoong did the same, and now you were at an arm's length from them.

"Can you hear us out? We never planned to tell you like this, doll. Please, just look at us. We're still the same people you met." Hongjoong pleaded.

You shook your head, unwilling to put your hands down.

The spouses shared a look before Seonghwa stood up and went to look for your phone. He knew he'd be violating your privacy, but he had to call for back up in the form of your best friend, and Wooyoung.

Hongjoong started explaining everything, not knowing if it would freak you out even more.

"Seonghwa and I, we're... We're vampires, Y/N. I can't tell you how old we are because I don't want you to freak out even more, but we've been through a lot. You... You bring us immense joy, doll. We can't imagine going forward without you by our side."

He glanced at his husband returning into the kitchen, nodding his head at you phone.

"Y/N, darling... I can't say how sorry I am for my behaviour. I still have problems with my self control when it comes to blood. And yours... Oh it smelled better than anything I've ever had." Seognhwa said, coming to sit down in front of you.

Your hands slowly went to wrap around your knees, but you didn't want to stand up yet. You looked between them, seeing their eyes back to their normal colour.

"V-Vampires?"

Hongjoong nodded. "Yes, doll. We're incredibly sorry for this little misshap."

"I can't tell you how bad I feel right now, darling. I never wanted to frighten you. You're... You're so important to us, you can't even imagine." Seonghwa continued.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down. You couldn't stay with them tonight, not like this. There was too much to think about, and you had to do it alone.

"C-Can I go home now? Please, we'll talk, but I have to go."

"That won't be a problem now, will it?" The three of you turned your heads in the direction of the voice, and you saw Yeosang standing at the doorway with Wooyoung. He looked shaken up, but he wasn't in a panic.

"Yeosang?" You questioned, surprised to see him here. He quickly walked over to you, helping you get off the floor.

"Come, Y/N, we're taking you home."

"But how did you..."

He pointed at Seonghwa. "One of your boyfriends called me."

You were still confused. "How did you get here so fast?"

"That would be all me! He's lucky to have a warlock as a boyfriend." Wooyoung chipped in from his position at the entrance of the kitchen.

"A wa... What on earth is going on tonight?" You hissed, not believing the situation you were in.

"Take care of her for tonight, please." Hongjoong said to Yeosang before pointing a finger at Wooyoung.

"And you. Oh, just wait until everything's back to normal. We still need to have a word."

"Roger that, excuse us for now."

Before you knew it, Wooyoung crowded around you and Yeosang, and black smoke started drifting in the air.

The last thing you saw were the faces of the two men you were deeply falling for, the hurt so clearly visible it almost made you break into tears.

.

.

Thank you to everybody who follows along with this fic! I appreciate your love for my work, and also the patience you give. I will try to upload once a week if work and life aren't super busy.

Enjoy this chapter, and be ready for the next.

Lots of love, and happy reading X

[sengenism]

What's the moment you started shipping Sengen? Mine is definitely when Gen and Senku agreed they'll condemn their soul together to hell, it's small but it's the moment I started loving this ship.

I know there's the Gen asking for cola while injured scene but idk... They condemning their soul together to hell stirred something deep inside my heart...

- 🧅

the "senku ishigami and asagiri gen will be condemning themselves to an eternity of hell" scene is so insane i think about it all the time

funny thing about this scene is that the only other time they used such phrasing was in the light novel, where it narrates homura's loyalty to hyouga

Even then, Homura had no regrets. She had offered her very own future to the other prisoner, Hyouga. Even if the future was pitch black, if it was to fall to hell with him she did not mind in the least.

homura... who is in love with hyouga... hmm interesting

btw loved them ever since the observatory scene in the anime!! the anime, specifically, because i read the manga first. but only when the anime came out in 2019 did i realise how romantic the observatory scene actually was... like... it hit me that this was the most perfect gift one could present to senku then. how much thought gen put behind it all, to the point of manipulating senku into giving him a hint to calculate senku's birthday.

it's such a lovely scene and gen orchestrating the whole thing with the help of the villagers truly speaks volume for his love and care for senku. and i don't necessarily mean love in a romantic way– well, could be– but no matter the form of love the reader interprets this scene as, it's undeniable that gen genuinely loves senku for being senku. it is the purest kind of love, for he admits he likes senku regardless of the gain he gets from it.

and this scene is so so so so gen. there's manipulation, sure, but there is also kindness hidden behind it– that's the core of gen's personality. he is a good man who hides his kindness behind layers of manipulation. similarly, he manipulated chrome into picking the card that would allow chrome to ride the parachute first because he knew how baaaadly chrome wanted to.

and one of the best parts about the observatory scene? inagaki-sensei had revealed in a Q&A session that the saturn that senku saw through the telescope was merely his own mental imagery. with gen's limited science knowledge on making a telescope, the telescope made by him and the villagers wasn't advanced enough to see a planet. which means senku was so touched, he had lied about the telescope being good.

anyways, i've talked about how important gifts are to the ishigamis here and i'd like to point out that this makes the gift mean so much more to senku than a simple (maybe useless) telescope. thanks for coming to my ted talk~

[ducktracy]

Hello, and Happy Birthday! I come to humbly drink from your font of Pig and Duck knowledge in search of enlightenment

From my casual observation, it seems like there's two distinct "eras" of Daffy: early Daffy that's most often opposite Porky, where he's more zany & wacky, the one playing the joke; & later/modern Daffy that's often opposite Bugs, where he's still over the top but more grounded & often the butt of the joke, more angry than goofy. I'd love to pick your brain about what changed to spark this kind of character evolution (as well as how you think TDTEBU handled/played with it)!

THANK YOU FOR THE BIRTHDAY WISHES!! AND for thinking to come to me for this, because YOU HAVE COME TO THE RIGHT PERSON!! i've been hoarding this in my inbox for days and keep getting so excited thinking of how i'm gonna answer it. ohhohohhohoh man. if there's one thing i love to talk about, it's the duck (and pig). LET'S GO

SO! YES! you are indeed correct! i'm gonna warn you right now that i'm gonna get annoyingly pedantic and specific and probably complicate things and make it seem way more complicated than it is. i love talking about Daffy's character evolution and how nuanced he is, especially since there are often soooo many misconceptions about his character floating around. but, for the quick tldr: you are correct! Daffy started off as a screwball little heckler, and was gradually made more miserly and bitter to make himself a bit more sustainable. the starting point of this change is often hailed as Chuck Jones' hunting trilogy, beginning with Rabbit Fire in 1951. there's much more to it than that, that i will be delving into right now! but that's the very abbreviated gist of it. you say casual observation so i'm going to go into it listing everything out, apologies if some of this is information you already know/comes off as talking down!! i just get so excited at questions and opportunities like these HAHA

Daffy was indeed birthed from his namesake! he started off as a nameless duck that heckles Porky in Porky's Duck Hunt. like a lot of the births of these characters, he was sort of a happy accident; just a very memorable figure from a cartoon likely intended to be a one-off (as model sheets simply name him "the crazy, darn fool duck"), but his birth of being a crazy little screwball heckler was so groundbreaking for the time that he was very quickly made into one of the family. he, in many ways, was the first character of his kind--self aware and very metaphysical, crazy and energetic and fourth dimensional. his existence is super easy to take for granted. he wasn't the first screwball character ever created, but he very much was some of the first of his kind, and he was so successful that Bugs Bunny owes his entire existence to him by starting off as a rip-off (Ben Hardaway, who created the prototypal rabbit that would evolve into Bugs as we know him today--and Bugs himself is named after Hardaway--is quoted as saying he was going to put "that duck in a rabbit suit" and, indeed, Porky's Hare Hunt is a very shameless and much worse rip-off of Porky's Duck Hunt . but it goes to show how much of an impact Daffy made, if he was getting rip-offs made at the same studio with a very quick turnaround time!)

BUT YEAH! Daffy slowly came into his own. he was soon inaugurated as Porky's sidekick and the two became the faces of the studio--it's been so so so fun and wonderful and gratifying seeing people rediscover this fact with all the TDTEBU hype :') get a load a' these guys!

though they started off as rivals (..technically, anyway, as you don't really get the sense that Daffy sees Porky as a "rival" in PDH, but moreso something to entertain himself with), they frequently starred together as buddies. sometimes Daffy is stealing Porky's corn from his hens and raging trench warfare, and in the cartoon after that, they're best buds who live together and have Porky entering/encouraging Daffy into a boxing match he is way underqualified for. and then in the cartoon after that, Daffy kidnaps a hapless Porky off the streets and tries to perform surgery on him to prove he's a qualified doctor. and then the cartoon after that they're buddies again. and again. and again! this is one of my favorite clips of the era, you just don't get this sort of earnest, unabashed gushing from one character to another with most of the other guys... i love how unique their dynamic is, especially with the very rare innocence of the early years that is really and wholly unique to them. it's very touching to me

NOW. here is where we get into Duck Analysis Territory. it's often misunderstood that Daffy was just a completely carefree, crazy, happy heckler until the very day Chuck Jones altered him to be fitted with Bugs in 1951. WWWWWWROOOONGGGGGGG WRONG WRONG WRONG!!!!!

Daffy's evolution is surprisingly nuanced. the seeds of what will be planted can be seen in You Ought to Be in Pictures, which is a semi-autobiographical short from Friz Freleng that has Daffy swindling Porky out of his contract at WB so DAFFY can be the star of the studio instead. of course, the entire meta joke of the short is that while Daffy was beginning to eclipse Porky in popularity at that point, he didn't have the sustainability to be the studio's main hotshot either. in fact, in some cases he gets a shorter stick than poor Porky, who was pretty swiftly relegated to being Daffy's second banana (but cordially so), especially through the '50s--at least Porky and Bugs got merchandising. a lot of trade reviews of the time just refer to Daffy as "a duck", even in the '50s! a historian friend of mine said that most people in that era likely would've known Daffy moreso from the comics, which i genuinely cannot wrap my head around. he was popular enough to still be a steady player throughout the 40s, and it's VERY clear that the directors themselves loved him, but i don't think he ever had the star status that Bugs or even Porky had.

anyhoo, Pictures displays a startlingly similar portrait to the duck of the '50s: selfish, deceptive, hungry for fame and money. Friz Freleng would definitely keep this characterization close to him in his '50s shorts, as it was really him who pioneered the whole greedy Daffy trope--i'd say Chuck Jones' duck, while having greedy tendencies, was more volatile and "human". Friz's duck is more comedically blunt in his awfulness i'd say HAHA.

but it's not even as simple as that! Daffy started off certifiably insane, but if you go through his chronology, you can see the lucidity develop. a friend once pointed out that Chuck's Duck has always been Chuck's Duck since day one--the first Chuck Jones Daffy short, Daffy Duck and the Dinosaur, has Daffy painting a perfect decoy of himself and remarking to the camera "not bad for a guy that never took a lesson in his life!"; it may seem so menial to remark on, but that's very indicative of the ego that Jones' Daffy would heartily nurse in later years! and these little developments really are worth noting. i'd say The Daffy Doc is the first short where we really get a sneak preview of his broadening emotions, as he's able to feel pride, anger and injustice in that short, and slowly but surely his capacity for emotion expands.

Porky's Last Stand is one of my all time favorite cartoons, highly recommend it, and one of those reasons is because it's a fascinating character study for Daffy. you can see the lucidity threatening to break on his face here, but it slowly fades back away to his usual smiley and not-all-there oblivion... but that he knows enough to recoil and be scared at a guy banging his fists is a development! it feels like such a silly and minor thing to pick up on, but it really is worth noting (too lazy to properly gif since i'm adding this last and have tuckered myself out, but that's okay because i love this joke anyway and it's very worth hearing)

Daffy would continue to grow and mature into the early '40s in what i call his "teenage years"; The Henpecked Duck i've always touted as the first short to show off this "new" Daffy, as it's the first short to show him actually subdued, depressed even, and clearly capable of handling complex and nuanced emotions. he's outgrown his shell of being strictly comic relief and turns into someone you can relate to--this stage, he becomes more of an overfamiliar, obnoxious, impulsive buddy of yours. he still displays his irrationalities and neuroticism, but compared to his debut, he's very much sane. in doing so, this paves the way for more room for emotion. including cynicism! Norm McCabe's Daffy is one of my all time favorite interpretations of the character, despite having only ever made 3 cartoons with him. you really get a sense of the growing cynicism and bitterness with the character. it's not quite comparable to how he would soon grow into, but he's more candid, grounded, will complain to the audience (such as making fun of a group of ducks for flying south for the winter and sneering at them for being in a rut, or grousing that a doctor can't effectively cure his hiccups)... he's so human at this stage, and really not too far removed from how he would be later on.

likewise, this continues all throughout the '40s. Daffy grows more and more relatable and human, is more like a chum of yours rather than strict comic relief. he still has the comic relief and still does insane things, but is very far removed from his roots. this is my favorite Daffy, '40s Daffy--i think he's at his most nuanced in this period and has a great mix of traits from both his early and later years. and, again, Chuck Jones often gets the credit for reinventing Daffy, but you can see those traits in the '40s shorts if you look for him! shorts like Draftee Daffy establish him as a coward who only acts in his own self-interest, so much so that he ends up killing someone (along with himself). shorts like Book Revue and The Great Piggy Bank Robbery demonstrate a clear ego and self importance, delusional behavior, cowardice again, etc... the reason why Drip Along Daffy is one of my all-time favorite Chuck Jones shorts is because it's basically just Chuck's version of Piggy Bank, at least to me. his Daffy is not at all fundamentally different from Piggy Bank's Daffy.

Bob McKimson and Art Davis' interpretation of the character also blur the lines further, especially the former; both characters have a certain bitterness and sense of confrontation to them, and we still get those snatches of an ego... he's still a very amicable and chummy character, still victim to his impulses, still upbeat, but there's a sort of post-war... it's too soon to call it weariness, but i'd say groundedness. and i think this allows for a smoother transition into the more firmly egotistical duck of the '50s, even though he's ALWAYS had an ego. unsubtle plug that you should browse my Daffy tag on my review blog if you wanna read more about this, because his reviews are always the longest because i've put so much thought and research and analysis into this!! AND WE'RE JUST GETTING STARTED

BUT ANYHOO! while these traits have always been there, it's true that the most realized change seems to come in Chuck Jones' hands. i feel like The Scarlet Pumpernickel is a more apt "starting place" for this characterization, because the cartoon opens with Daffy complaining to Jack Warner that he's always being typecast as the comic relief!!!! there are extremely clear hints of the duck that will come to be in Jones' hands. he's still in a bit of a purgatory development wise, but you can feel one curtain sort of closing and another opening

so comes Rabbit Fire, the first short to officially pin Daffy and Bugs together. Bugs and Daffy were rather similar characters in the '40s--both figures of anarchy, both hecklers for their own entertainment value, both putting on a chummy and occasionally (often, in Bugs' case) condescending act. there are a lot of minute differences that i will pick apart when i analyze these cartoons, but it is true that they're pretty dang similar. and so in addition to the writing being on the wall with shorts like Pumpernickel, the directors seeming to show that they wanted to expand Daffy's capacity, i think Daffy and Bugs alike were both tweaked in opposite directions to enhance the comedic their comedic foil. it is very interesting comparing the evolution of the hunting trilogy shorts, as Rabbit Fire still has Daffy doing his hoohoo! he's largely in it to entertain himself and satisfy his heckling tendencies, whereas by the time of Duck! Rabbit, Duck! he's full vengeance mode and any conflict with Bugs is intensely purposeful

another very interesting and overlooked aspect of all this is that many people believe that the way Daffy acts in the shorts with Bugs is how he acts in every other short. WRONG!!!! this has been one of the world's greatest misunderstandings in post-classic LT media. Daffy is definitely a much more mature and, in many ways, different duck than he once was. but thank goodness for Chuck Jones, he and Porky sort of get a second wind of camaraderie--a lot of the '40s shorts with the two have them in rival roles, matching the heightened aggression of the war years and just the natural comedy that comes with Daffy pissing Porky off. (i think the best shorts are the ones that strike an ideal balance between them being buddies and mortal enemies--it's exactly why i love Baby Bottleneck as much as i do).

in the '50s, Chuck makes them a dynamic duo in a way that almost mimics some of their team-ups from the '30s... only with more maturity, cynicism, and dripping self awareness. there's this misconception that since Daffy hates Bugs, then he must hate Porky too.. but he doesn't! at all! he lets his ego get away from him at times and can definitely prompt Porky to clean up some of the mess haha, but they're still very much equals and with Porky in particular, you get the sense that if he wanted to remove himself from the situation, he very clearly could... but chooses to stick with him anyway. i just hate this misconception in some LT media that has Daffy treating Porky like a doormat because it's how he treats Bugs. they remain buds until the very bitter end, and boy is it bitter

i should also mention McKimson's duck again. Chuck and Friz ran with the miserly, conceited, rude, brash and generally awful duck of the '50s (moreso the case of the latter, Chuck's duck is more pitiable and "human"), but Bob McKimson actually still clung a bit to some screwballisms. he still has Daffy doing his screwball HOOHOO at times, and whereas Chuck and Friz are doing shorts exploring the inner psyche of Daffy Dumas Duck and his greed being his undoing, McKimson is still doing buddy comedies with Daffy and Porky or having Daffy's greed be something like "Daffy tricks Porky into paying a ridiculous series of upcharges for a hotel visit by inserting various pests into his room that cost a ridiculous fee to get rid of". not quite the same gripping commentary as Chuck's duck saying stuff like "i'm not like other people, i can't stand pain! it hurts me!" HAHA. but i love and respect McKimson's duck for that reason.

even as late as 1970 he still has Daffy talking about being buddies with Porky... there's this "clinging to the past" feeling i sometimes get with his work, the Daffy and Porky shorts especially, and i'm really fond of it.

THAT'S THE GIST OF IT! i have such a hard time condensing this down as i'm sure you can tell HAHA, but he has such a rich history that i think has so sorely been misconstrued... but that's also just because people don't tend to look for or notice these little details. but they're there! his development is surprisingly nuanced, and i still stand firm in believing that he's one of the most versatile animated characters ever made. it's a very large factor in my enjoyment of him.

and i think TDTEBU handled it WONDERFULLY! i've said it before, but i was initially a bit worried. i love LTC and i love the Daffy and Porky shorts, perhaps more than most, but Daffy can come off as a bit of a stereotype of himself in the show, and i was very nervous about that carrying over into the film. screwball Daffy is difficult to get right because it's so easy to generalize--he's a surprisingly complex little duck! but i was very pleased at the breadth of emotions Daffy was able to feel and experience in TDTEBU. it felt much closer to Clampett's duck than LTC, as Clampett's duck exhibits the ego and cowardice and selfishness we discussed above. i love that Daffy was able to be a bit more cynical, suspicious, smug, cowardly, emotional, and just.. varied in his feelings! he was my favorite part of the film in terms of characterization, i genuinely have no notes for him.

WHEW!!!! well, if you're still here i thank you for reading! i LOVEEEEE talking about this, if you can't tell HAHA. i hope this wasn't too overwhelming or too much that you already know!!! i could, have and will again talk about this for hours. thank you so much for coming to me for this!! i hope it was interesting and/or insightful!

[karikitdemonrp]

Core purred softly when Kohaku cupped his face, the kitsune's cheeks growing warm as a dust of crimson appeared on his cheeks. Tail swaying lightly. The kitsune kept his eyes fixed on the demon slayer's amber gaze, listening to every word despite his embarrassment. It looked like Core was sort of pouting. Be it from embarrassment or from not being able to tease Kohaku the way the demon slayer teased him or any mixture of things. It was oddly adorable how his cheeks ever so slightly puffed out with that ever growing crimson hue across his face.

The kitsune sighed softly. "I know I worry. But it's still a pretty bad wound. It's just kinda hard for me to not worry my love." He muttered with a sigh, relaxing at the touch. The warm bath did help sooth Core as well, so he wasn't as frantic as he could be. "I'm just happy to even be able to worry about you, Kohaku." The kitsune chirped and moved to stretch a bit with a happy moan.

His pointed ears flicked a little bit when Kohaku kissed the kitsune's forehead then said they could cuddle. Core's tail began moving a little faster in pure glee. Core's smile widened, a happy purr escaping his throat. It was clear Core was ecstatic with what the demon slayer said. "Then lets go already so I can make sure everything is okay while you get cozy!" He said, moving to pick Kohaku up before he could protest. "I can't wait to cuddle. Though I'd like some help checking on my tail. I've been saying it might be splitting but I wanna be sure. If you don't mind helping me double check. You might be more knowledgeable than me since I wasn't told much about it growing up and because this is the first time I've gone through this." He muttered shyly.

"Only if you're okay with it. I don't wanna force you to do something ever. Even something simple." He chirped rather quickly, a bit worried his request sounded too forceful. Core never wanted his love to feel like he was being forced to do anything. Even though he knew better, Core liked to be sure.

Kohaku smirked slightly at Core’s attempt to tease him, shaking his head in amusement.

“You’re cute when you try to be coy, you know that?” He chuckled, wrapping his towel around his waist before moving to get dressed. His movements were slower, more deliberate—not because of his wound, but simply because he enjoyed making Core flustered when he could.

Once he was clothed, he stretched lightly, rolling his shoulders to loosen them up. The bath had done wonders for the tension in his muscles, and he felt much lighter.

At Core’s concerned questions, Kohaku exhaled softly, stepping closer and cupping the kitsune’s face in his hands. “I’m fine, love.” He reassured, thumbs brushing over Core’s damp cheeks. “You didn’t hurt me, and I wouldn’t have let you if I thought I couldn’t handle it.” His voice was firm but gentle, laced with warmth. “You worry too much. I swear, if I so much as sneeze, you’d probably be ready to carry me back to bed.”

He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Core’s forehead before pulling back slightly, a teasing glint in his golden eyes. “And yes, we can cuddle. I’m not about to go running off in the middle of the night. I’d much rather have you wrapped around me, keeping me warm.”

[triglycercule]

murderers are weak to cats?!

guys uploading fics to ao3 is a hassle i'm just gonna dump this here so i dont have to deal with that!! anyways murder time trio go to a cat cafe or something and are as nice as they can ever be or something idk they should just hug already X3

"can you taste it with your eye or something?"

horror looked up from his drink (just plain warmed milk, he couldn't handle much more) he'd been boring holes into. killer looked back at him, his small snark left unanswered. in the quaint quiet of the cat cafe, few sitting in other booths and the sound of mews and meows around, horror almost found himself able to resist slapping killer's stare off his face.

he did resist. but he couldn't keep himself from insulting killer back.

"sure i'd taste it better with my eye better than you could ever taste your drink."

a distant chuckle came from the area designated to playing with the cats. horror scoffed at the sound. dust was listening into them, even as he'd left to go and play with the little cats. horror and killer were left to order drinks and relax. except horror couldn't bring himself to, and killer was just watching him as he pet a cat in his lap.

killer picked up on his tension. annoying observant, as always.

"i don't understand what you're so tense over."

horror scoffed, "being here with you two is enough..."

a smile smile graced killer's face, his rarely visible eye light locked onto the cat in his lap. right, right, killer always had a thing for cats. horror recalled... right? he couldn't remember, but he felt he was right.

"y'know, i'd rather not be here with either of you two as well. but i don't understand your resentment, not with the atmosphere we're in. you're seriously holding a grudge with a bunch of kitties around?"

horror stayed silent. he didn't wanna acknowledge killer's words. regardless of if he made a solid point, it was killer. killer, of all people.

... killer petting a cat in his lap, with a gentle look horror rarely saw from him. with his weird soul almost shaped like a heart, something horror knew was important from what he'd observed in his time travelling with the two.

dust, hanging around the cats' beds and playing with them so peacefully, as if he'd never hurt a single soul in his lifetime. as if he wasn't currently coated with layers of dead monsters, wearing the scarf of his dead brother.

horror closed his eyes, taking in the moment. the milk smelled... nice, at least. were some cats all it took to pacify the murderers he'd been hopping universes with?

... seems so. was horror just not a cat person? maybe that's why he couldn't relax.

for a few more moments, horror sat there, listening to the sounds of cats and smelling the faint sweetness of the milk. until he felt a push against his side, and horror opened his eyes to find the cat killer had been petting trying to cuddle up to him.

he almost groaned, but it was a cat. it hadn't done anything to deserve his perpetual frustration. so horror let it curl up against him, his hand finding its way to the cat's fuzzy belly and petting. horror thought cats we're supposed to be meaner than this, but oh well.

agh, killer was staring at him again, wasn't he? he was. with another smile on his face, bigger this time.

"what's your issue?"

"nothing," killer tilted his head, "it's just that you, all of a sudden, seem softer. i didn't think there was anything that could calm your temper."

horror narrowed his sockets. "so?"

"... it's a good look on you."

an audible sound of incredulous confusion left horror.

"heh?? excuse me?"

"what? did i say anything wrong? i thought compliments were meant to be nice."

"you don't mean any of your compliments."

killer rolled his eye light, his smile growing at that.

"you're right. but just this once, humor me."

... fine. since it was so nice right now, and this cat was really cuddly and soft, maybe he would. horror looked away from killer back down to the cat and the milk. maybe he would take a small sip now.

drinking the milk, the milk, despite being warm, cooled the remnants of anger in horror. it was rewarding to be able to drink properly now, with all the recovery he'd made. horror placed the cup down, and went back to petting the cat with satisfaction in his bones.

killer hummed at the sight, saying nothing else. dust came up to the booth with three cats clinging onto his clothes, a gentle grin on his face. killer silently took one from him as dust sat next to him, and the trio enjoyed a rare moment of peace.

[mecha--maniac]

This is possibly my fault since I started being active in the community again, and posting my sympathetic thoughts about Solaris quite a bit. So I'mma ramble the thoughts this makes me think.

By no means do I think Solaris is entirely sympathetic -- he's a god, and gods are almost never depicted as being perfect -- but I point out the sympathies a lot because the game sure doesn't, and most people will pick up on what they (almost certainly correctly) perceive as a biblical Satan/demon analogy, and thus are predisposed to assume he's evil for the sake of being evil. This is almost certainly what the devs were intending, buutttt the story for the game seems pretty clearly unpolished, so it's hard to say for certain that someone on the team didn't purposefully add a lot of background trappings that imply the history of the area is more proto-indo-iranian than the modern european parts of the setting would imply, and thus the themeing could actually be more of an observation on how christianity absorbed traditions from other cultures and turned positive things into negative things, such as the neutral-to-positive origins of things like 'hell' and 'demons' and how they became synonymous with 'evil' and 'bad' when transplanted. It wouldn't change much in regards to good/grey/evil readings; but it would support that the past has been obscured purposefully at some point. Historically, it would have been obscured by the ruling class with something to gain, but since deities are a Real Thing here it could also be Solaris himself.

(But again I really do honestly think most of the potentially purposeful detail in this game is an accident... I kinda assume the bg/asset team somehow had more time to work than the writers. This game was rushed to Hel and back. I think they wanted to play with grey areas, but didn't get the chance to actually put in everything they were building to.)

And honestly, I love any reading of the character; good, evil, and especially in between. I'd like to see more done with the old story mentioned (I'm aware of it and think about it a lot) and I'd say I'm surprised that I haven't seen anyone go down that 'Solaris was malevolent the whole time' road when exploring him... But this is the gay weirdo website, and historically gay weirdos tend to sympathize with the demonized monsters, so I'm not actually surprised he's usually played with more benefit of the doubt (plus there's a distinct reverse correlation between tone of a subject vs tone of the fan interaction; the darker the thing, the lighter the fan content, and vice versa)

I gotta say, though. That old story doesn't prove Solaris has ever been malevolent. That could very well have been the intention -- I always assumed it was, and assumed the average reading was 'oh the game characters have this story wrong, Solaris is secretly the bad guy here' -- but it's not proof. The lines tell us for sure that there is a story about Solaris, and that's it. It may sound to us -- with outside biases -- that Solaris faked saving the city; it may sound to them with their ingame biases that Solaris did save the city; but there's a whole lot in between there. An incident similar to the story probably happened, but we can't say for sure. And while it seems like the obvious starter of the fire would be the fire god, we should consider that devastating blazes that destroy entire cities are a thing that happen in modern times, and thus probably happened in any time period (probably more often, what without fire codes and such.) A legitimate blaze could have just happened. And who better to douse it than someone that can control fire? The 'Solaris tricked them' interpretation is easy to see under the surface, but it might legitimately not be that deep. Maybe Mrs. O'Leary's cow starts a fire; fire god cleans it up; fire god decides to be the city's patron; citizens honor patron deity with ceremonies. Or maybe there was even a mix, since we definitely can't know Solaris's intentions; maybe he did start it as a trick, but later legitimately cared for the people, only for the people to betray him so now mass murder is back on the table. Maybe it wasn't a trick, but he's pissed enough now to throw away the loyalty.

My point is there are a hell of a lot of interpretations to be made with what is frankly a scaffolding of a script, and that's what I like about it. There is extremely little we can confirm in the game, unless we see it actually happen, with all included intentions of the characters stated (for instance: Mephiles literally never kills Sonic. No blood; he comes back; even the characters 'sense he's still there'. Did he intend to? Maybe. Probably. The writing probably isn't that deep. But all he actually needed was Elise to think he was dead, so we can't say for sure he didn't pull a trick there.) Cause characters like Mephiles can seem all dramatic and evil and trickstery, but dude might just be ye olde theatre kid. And this leaves a loooot of room for different readings and fanworks that don't even need to actually contradict the game, since so little is known for certain. So; I just like to point out that it's possible this debacle was more a tragic misunderstanding of hurt people than a good v bad situation. We can assume the writers probably went pretty basic with the ultimate theme being the usual 'you versus the bad guy' with the starters of some deeper stuff before corporate rushed the game out the door; but we can't know that's the case.

P.S. I usually ignore everything after the game when it comes to interpreting it, but if we did count modern stuff, SXSG drops a damn bombshell with that 'I want to exist' line, and talking about restoring himself to the timeline. It's still just a theory, but man; that sure seems to imply he never was trying to destroy reality and/or time the way Eggman told everyone he was. That's just more fuel to the tinfoil hat 'Eggman was goading everyone on in that fight on purpose since he had a lot to lose, as Solaris was aware Eggman was trying to use him' theory.

P.P.S. Also, like, Solaris was confirmed for sure stuck inside a stick and a t(w)eenager for a decade, and I doubt anyone could come out of that making rational decisions. Meanwhile the other side are almost all children that have possibly been a bit rattled by all the time traveling, chaos energy, and trauma they've been injected with over the course of that three days or so (+for Silver and Blaze), so I find it hard to judge them, either. I can judge Eggman, though. Dude was definitely just a dick. He's proven that plenty.

P.P.P.S. Main complete fuckin mystery in the game to me beyond 'probably just an unfinished plotline' is the Mephiles trying to get Silver to kill Sonic thing. I don't see how it makes sense in any case whatsoever; if Solaris was somehow a saint, why the hell would he take such a roundabout route, particularly since he obviously didn't need to? If he was a schemin' demon, same goes -- why go so roundabout, why pick Silver for it, why get so complicated, when it backfiring was so obviously a risk? Maybe because he knew Silver had something to do with Shadow, and maybe he found out Shadow was kinda-sorta friends with Sonic, so he just... Hoped it would be ironic for the half-moment between victory and pulling the plug on the timeline? I dunno man, and I'd love to hear more theories about that from folks, particularly since there's a lot of room for introducing ideas of there being limits or rules to Solaris's power/time travel/the universe itself/etc that might justify playin' what is essentially an intradimensional combination hopscotch/cat's cradle.

Tl;dr: Pretty much all bits of this game are up for wildly different interpretations, as little is ever actually confirmed, and we have a whole lot of unreliable narrators. I think the conversation should be 'here's how I read it, or the version I enjoy' and not 'your way of reading and liking the thing is wrong'.

A lot of people recently—as in, a weirdly high number of people—have been posting about how Solaris as a deity is a sympathetic figure, and how he was a victim in the grand narrative of Sonic ‘06.

This post is neither meant as a “gotcha” nor is it attempting to disprove or devalue this reading of the narrative, in fact I’m actually going to demonstrate how moral ambiguity is a theme that ‘06’s story definitely and intentionally explores, but I do want to just… point out what’s textually stated about Solaris in the game’s story.

To best illustrate what I’m getting at, I want to talk about Solaris chronologically. To do that, we need to discuss some deep lore that has come up on my blog several times in the past. (And no, it’s not the fact that the owner of the shops in Soleanna is named Enrique.)

Most people know that Solaris is represented by an eagle in Soleanna’s religion, but for those who missed the symbolism, Soleanna’s crest depicts an eagle standing proud with wings outstretched underneath a simplistic depiction of the sun, with the prominent feathers protruding outward in a manner reminiscent of sunbeams. Considering Solaris is known as Soleanna’s sun god and the eagle here is clearly represented as being a proxy for the sun (with the wing-sunbeams and all), and based on the fact Solaris’ physical form heavily resembles an eagle, it’s safe to say the eagle became a symbol in Soleanna due to worship of Solaris.

Additionally, the stained glass murals found in Kingdom Valley seem to show the eagle—Solaris—having some connection to or dominion over the day cycle, with the mural depicting this in a serene, positive light.

With that connection in mind, I would like to bring up the most insanely loaded and impactful throwaway NPC dialogue of any Sonic game:

Now, I’ve posted about this dialogue plenty before, but I wish to reiterate how this completely missable dialogue from some random woman in Soleanna’s New City contains deep lore that is heavily implied to be the origins of Soleanna’s symbol of their god, and may even be an origin story for Solaris’ worship in general.

The story is about Soleanna being overtaken by huge flames, until out of nowhere a huge eagle saves it. We know that Solaris’ physical form has the appearance of an eagle, so it’s barely conjectured to say that this story represents Solaris saving Soleanna—otherwise it would literally just be a narrative red herring. Additionally, the NPC specifically says that some people still believe the story to be factual, so this is clearly meant to be some manner of biblical non-fiction in the Solaris religion.

Clearly, this event sparked worship of Solaris, which, as previously mentioned, was viewed by the people of Soleanna as a positive deity—the “Eternal Sun,” which was paid homage to via the Festival of the Sun, which involved (description from the game’s official guide but this is also just what’s shown in the intro cutscene) “lighting a beautiful fountain of fire, bathing the city in the crackling glow of a thousand flames,” which I would say is representative of the great fires that overtook the ancient Soleanna, then afterwards “fireworks fill the sky, and there is much rejoicing by the general populace.” I would consider this as representing Solaris appearing from the call of the flames, but that’s conjecture—all that we need to focus on is what’s textually stated, which is that fact that there’s “much rejoicing by the general populace.” This is mirrored by the dialogue heard in-game, in which Elise, whilst lighting the fountain, prays: “Sun of Soleanna, guide and watch over us with your eternal light.”

The next event that we know of chronologically is, after somehow taking the form of a meager sentient flame, Solaris was entrusted to the royal family as the “Flame of Hope.” We don’t know how this happened, just that it did.

Later down the royal family lineage, we get to Elise’s father, the Duke of Soleanna. At some point, his wife—Elise’s mother—died, and conveniently the Duke then became infatuated with the altruistic idea of harnessing the power of time to allow his people to rectify past mistakes and avoid bitter fate. To that end, he started the Solaris Project, which aimed to study the Flame of Hope the royal family had been entrusted with and, more bluntly, manipulate the super-dimensional god-being Solaris for its power.

It is noted that the Living Flame had to grow larger for this power to be harnessed.

It is explicitly stated in-game that Solaris disagreed with this treatment. During the cutscene “The accident 10 years ago” which shows the Solaris Project experiment failing, a scientist notes that out of nowhere an electromagnetic pulse has been generated, which is causing a meltdown. The Duke responds to this by saying, “Why, Solaris? Why do you refuse to listen to my voice?” which suggests that Solaris itself generated the EMP, despite the fact that this causes it to fracture.

Furthermore, the game’s official guide (which should admittedly be taken with a few thousand grains of salt, as it’s a Prima Games guide and those are rather notorious) has this to say regarding Solaris and the experiment:

So, pretty cut and dry when you view it all like that in isolation, right? Solaris was a benevolent god that was abused by the duchy of its people and driven berserk from said abuse, which is why even after reforming its darkness and wrath it still sought to destroy all time. The Duke of Soleanna sucked bad and Sonic ‘06 is a narrative about… god dying for no reason? And the ending of Sonic ‘06 with Elise extinguishing Solaris represents, uhhh… deicide? Elise is perpetuating the cycle of abuse???

Obviously no hate to people who prefer viewing Solaris in a strictly sympathetic light (I literally wrote a fanfic with that as a partial premise), but you have to admit that it muddies the narrative. And, additionally, what a lot of people ignore when they come to that conclusion is the fact that Solaris had known malevolence.

First of all, consider the fact that the Flames of Disaster were a known thing in Soleanna’s faith—specifically known as Solaris’ wrath.

And when you remember the fact that Solaris takes the form of fire, and is known to be the being whose wrath is released in the form of flames,

Suddenly the story of the eagle has an alternative reading!

I am SO firmly in the camp that that NPC’s one-off dialogue is meant to suggest that Solaris manipulated its way into a position of worship, and that it being reduced to a meager flame was a saving act—which is why said flame was then entrusted to the royal family.

As stated above, this isn’t even an unheard of concept: Elise just casually tells Sonic about the potential of the Flames of Disaster, and all of Eggman’s actions throughout this game hinge on the fact that he wants to take the power of said flames (which he already knows about, just not how to channel) for himself.

Not to mention the fact that the component parts of Solaris don’t do the sun deity any favors. Iblis is literally a destructive manifestation of blind wrath, and Mephiles is a misery maximalist who literally overcomplicates plans to a fault just so the absolute most amount of karmic irony and sheer misfortune can underline all of his actions.

So… Solaris was vastly malevolent, ergo the Duke’s actions were completely justified, and Sonic ‘06’s narrative is about defeating ontological evil?

Also probably not!

A major theme of Sonic ‘06 is the dichotomy between the actions of an individual and the impact those actions have on the whole of society/the future—impact those actions hold in general:

Elise’s decision to sacrifice her relationship with Sonic by unmaking the instigating event of their meeting from the timeline, all to save the future, that’s just the underlining of this theme. There’s also the fact that Elise had to bear the Flames within her and repress her emotions in order to lead her people and hold back Solaris’ wrath, and the fact that Silver grapples with the idea that to save his future he has to personally kill an individual. Shadow has that whole moment where he says if the world chooses to become his enemy he’ll still fight like he always has, and even Amy gets the (admittedly pretty funny) line where if she had to choose between the world and Sonic, she’d choose Sonic—and for what it’s worth, that arguable ideology did plant the seeds of Silver questioning whether what he was doing was right or wrong. Even Blaze, who’s notoriously underutilized in ‘06, sacrifices herself to seal away the flames of Iblis for good.

I feel like the intended reading you’re supposed to have is that, yes, Solaris was terrible and did terrible things, but the Duke of Soleanna and contributors to the Solaris Project were also terrible and attempting to harness powers no mortals should possess, and both sides acted in manners that impacted the wider world in direct and indirect ways. It’s supposed to be a little difficult to work your head around and completely justify in one direction or the other—it’s trolly-problem-esque, in that sense.

So, in conclusion… all of this being said, there is still room to be made and interesting narratives to be constructed around the idea that Solaris was a victim—and personally I agree there’s some sympathy to be felt for the Flame and the experimentation it underwent even with its malevolence—but I feel like the actual narrative presented is much more intentionally nuanced.

[sysig]

Coming in to play! (Patreon)

[agardenofbasil]

@ily.unai on instagram was an old fan of unai and he was simply the sweetest with her, i think you’ll like to see it 🥹

unfortunately she seems to have abandoned the account, but the content already uploaded is absolutely adorable

how kind he was to the young girl every time…

Aw, oh my goodness, these edits are so cute. This is like an online diary of hers, I almost feel like I'm reading something private. 🥹 He always looks so happy to see her, and she so so appreciated it too.

Also, him saying "¿Que pasa guapa?" to her. I'm sure she melted over that. Sad that she isn't posting anymore, and I hope she's okay and well! 🥹

[breadcrxmbs-reblogs]

dude i really didn't think i could get more depressed. this shit sucks lol

[youremyonlyhope]

I'm not a "new musical theatre style music" person. Never have been.

Even when I was doing voice lessons, I'd steer towards the golden age or jazzy musical theatre songs. My voice teacher would have to drag me kicking and screaming towards adding anything new musical theatre to my repertoire. For a while, the most modern song in my book was I Know The Truth from Aida, and I wouldn't count that as new musical theatre style since I mean more the Pasek&Paul or Joe Iconis type.

And now I have an audition coming up for a small production of a show in that style and I'm supposed to sing a song in a similar style. And I'm looking at all my sheet music like... let me do some Cole Porter... or Gershwin... at least Sondheim please...

[anqelrafe]

YOUR DATE IS MISSING OUT ⸝⸝ㆍ RAFE CAMERON.

notes 𓂃 honestly quite proud of this....everyone clap ૮₍ ˃⤙˂ ₎ა — content includes smut, nsfw. 18+ only!

rafe laid on his bed, his head resting comfortably on his pillows with his arm draped lazily over his eyes. he had been listening to you talk about your day for the past hour, just barely listening to bits and pieces. he was really only waiting for you to skip to the lunch date you were supposed to have that afternoon, but you were so stuck on the topic of wanting to try out a new lip combo—whatever that was. so he decided it would just be quicker to just ask you himself.

“what about that date?” he cuts you off mid sentence, moving his arm from his eyes to peer over at you while you leisurely span around in the swivel chair at his desk. “with uhh...what was his name? ayden?” your glossed lips pull into a frown, stopping your spinning “andrew,” you correct, your finger twirling around a loose thread on your shorts. “and it didn't happened. he never came”

rafe's eyes shifted to yours, an annoyed furrow in his eyebrows forming at your admission “you mean that asshole never even showed up?” he scoffed, now fully sitting up against the headboard.

“nope,” your murmur, shifting in your seat “not only that, but he texted me an hour later to tell me he didn't feel like coming.”

“what a pussy,” rafe muttered under his breath, pushing his greasy hair away from his forehead as he tried to suppress an eye roll. he hated it whenever someone wasted your time or let you down. he always thought any guy who you even batted an eye at was incredibly lucky. “he just doesn't deserve you then. n i already told you that you were too good for him. don't know why you don't listen to me. you need to go after guys who would treat you better.”

your lips purse, tilting your head sideways as you toy with the polish on your manicured finger. “uh huh. and who would that be, hm? you?”

“yes.” rafe’s answer is almost immediate and without hesitation. he had no shame, no remorse, no fear. he was straightforward and honest to a fault. “i’d never let you down, you know that. and i'd show you what your date should've done.”

your fingers stop picking at your nail polish, your lips pulling into a thin line. you knew rafe was a good friend, he always had been. but boyfriend material? you weren't so sure. you've seen the way he's run through girls like t-shirts; and you refused to be one of his discards. “rafe—” you started, but he cut you off, waving his hand dismissively.

“nah, nah. don’t ‘rafe’ me. i’m serious. you don't wanna date me? fine. understandable. but at least let me help ya out. y'know, as your friend. i could be uh...setting a standard or...whatever you wanna call it. i could give you a better time than he would've.”

you weren't stupid, you knew what rafe was trying to do. it's how he got all of the island girls to flock over him─manipulation. but was it really manipulation if you wanted it too?

‎ ‎ ─── ✷ ⊹ ࣪

“you taste so fuckin' good. shit — you're drippin for me.” rafe groaned, his eyes trained on drenched folds before they locked on your face, watching the way it contorted in pleasure with every swirl of his tongue against your clit. “feel good, yeah?”

you were only able to force out a few incoherent sounds, the overwhelming pleasure making your brain fuzzy. any guy you've ever slept with never offered or made the slightest effort to eat you out like this. so the new sensation of rafe's tongue had you seeing stars and gasping beneath him. “c'mon, i asked you a question, i want actual words, alright? i want you to tell me how good it feels. and look at me when i'm taking t'you.” rafe spoke against your sex, the vibration of his words making your hips twitch.

“mngh....y-yes.” you breath out, forcing your eyes open to lock to his, “feels good...s'good.” you whimper, glossed lips parting as you stare down at him.

“mmh, there ya go, that's my girl. when i ask something i expect a real answer, yeah?” rafe murmured as two of his long fingers easily slipped into your soaking hole, pulling a mewl from your lips and making your back arch off the mattress slightly. “fuck baby, you're perfect — s'fuckin tight.” he groaned, watching the way your narrow pussy sucked in his fingers, a ring of your slick coating the base of his digits. “y'been giving this pussy to amateurs i bet. don't worry though..i'll stretch ya out real nice.” rafe murmured, wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud, your eyes rolling back while his fingers moved in slow, deep strokes, finding the spongy spot that made you cinch around his fingers.

“mgnh...fuck, rafe. i—” you gasp, hands fisting the sheets under you, your words being punctuated by rafe purposely humming around your clit, the vibration making your hips twitch. “mmh yeah i know, pretty girl. gonna cum, yeah? go on baby...make a mess f'me.”

his hands squeeze your thighs as they start to tremble, a loud whine falling from your lips as your orgasm hits, your cunt fluttering around his fingers, glossy eyes squeezing shut. rafe groans against you, lapping your juices as he helps you ride out your orgasm. “yeah, that's it, baby...good girl.”

you felt completely boneless, muscles trembling and skin buzzing all over as you slowly try to come down, catching your breath as he pulled himself up to hover over you, his hand tapping your trembling outer thigh “open up f'me baby.”

your eyes flutter open, thighs shaking as you slowly let them fall open. your eyes half lidded as you stared up at him. rafe groans softly at the sight before him, positioning himself between your legs and slowly slid his leaking tip up and down your glistening lips, teasing your clit slowly.

“fuuuck” rafe groaned as he started to slip his twitching member into your leaking cunt, his eyes fluttering at the sensation of him bottoming out. “shit baby, you're so fuckin' tight...suckin' me in s'good” rafe grunted, his hips starting to snap against yours as he drove his cock in and out, watching your lips part and eyebrows furrow in pleasure.

your head falls back onto the mattress as you mewled beneath him, your lips opening but no words leaving your mouth, already too cock drunk to form any coherent sentences. “bet you needed this, hm? needed this pussy taken care of s'bad, you just had to be fucked by your best friend — you like that, don't you, baby? you like your best friend's cock stretching you out?”

before you could even process what rafe said, the sharp, jarring sound of your phone ringing pierced through the air. the loud and harsh sound causing rafe's eyes to snap up in annoyance, his grip on your hips tightening. “fuckin' christ — who's calling?”

with your brain slowly working to catch up to the situation, the persistent ringing of your phone seemed to finally sink in. your hands fumble around as you search for the phone, eventually finding it. glancing at the caller id, your eyes flutter in surprise, and you let out a whimper, forced to keep your eyes open as rafe's hips continue their relentless rhythm. “w-wait,” you stammer, struggling to catch your breath as you see andrew's name flash across the screen. “i — shit — i need to-”

“answer it.” he ordered, smirking down at you as he watched the name flash on the screen. “let him know your best friend's takin' good care of this pussy.” rafe murmured, noticing the hesitance in your expression.

“wasn't a question.” rafe grunted, taking your phone from your hand without any consent, his thrusts getting rougher as he answered the phone, putting it on speaker. “mmh, y/n's busy. fuck— y'know you're really missin' out though, man. this pussy's a fuckin' dream.” rafe spoke between breathy moans, the sounds of skin slapping and both you and rafe's moans clearly heard on the other end by andrew. “hear that? s'the sound of quality pussy, she’s sucking me in so tightly. bet you wish you were me huh?”

“hey, what is…” andrew's voice comes through the other end of the line, his words trailing off when he realized who he was talking to. “rafe?” rafe's smirk only widens at the sound of the obvious confusion and uneasiness in andrew's voice. “uh huh..” rafe groaned, “fuck man, she's takin' my dick so well; she even makes the prettiest noises f'me wanna hear?” the condescending, almost faux sympathy in rafe's voice was clear, it was obvious he was getting off on this.

he angled the phone closer to your face, making sure the sound of your lewd, almost pornographic moans and whines were clearly heard over the phone. “mmh yeah, all those pretty sounds just for me. but i uh— fuck, she might need to call y'back, man. gonna fill this pussy up soon.”

true to his word, rafe led you through four quivering orgasms after he hung up, letting himself go after your fourth one, his hips stuttering as his cock twitched, his warm liquid spilling inside of you.

“that definitely wasn't our last time...pussy's mine now.” rafe breathed out, collapsing next to you.

taglist 🪽: @bunbun-3 @drewscoquette @untitled10351 @rafesweetie @meetmebehindthemallrafe @supercutelovergirl @drewswife @plaidcowboy @missquantic @rafesdiorperfume @minitarayummy @this-one-weeb @akobx @mystianqel @lacebambidoll @dolletebun @milamilkie @ch6rm @rafesprecious

[withthewerewolves]

My personal favorite buddie proposal idea is that Eddie sidles into a storage closet at the station one day while Buck is doing inventory and asks "hey can I talk to you as my best friend instead of as the love of my life?"

And once Buck is done having heart palpitations (love of his life! best friend!) he's like "yeah of course" and even sets aside his clipboard so he can give Eddie his full attention

And Eddie gives him a shy/smug little look because he knows what he's doing and says "so I've decided to propose to my boyfriend-" he gives Buck a second to start thinking in full sentences again (boyfriend! that's me! propose! marriage! forever! choosing me forever!) before finishing "-and I was hoping that, as my best friend, you'd come ring shopping with me"

And Buck manages to say "yeah - I'd - I'd love to" and he means the ring shopping but he also kind of means the proposal and they both know it and they spend the rest of the shift barely meeting each other's eyes and then looking away to smile and giggle like teenagers

And they do go ring shopping and they pick out something Buck really likes while pretending very seriously that Buck and Eddie's future fiancé are not the same person

But THEN, before Eddie has a chance to actually propose (he has PLANS), Buck gets him alone at the station and is all "hey, so, can I ask something as your best friend instead of as the love of your life?"

And Eddie is like this sounds familiar but he's also having heart palpitations because he's just as gone on Buck as Buck is on him, so he says "yes of course"

And Buck is like "I think my boyfriend is going to propose, and when I say yes I want to have a ring for him-" he gives Eddie a second to be able to form thoughts beyond he's going to say yes!!!! even though he KNEW he was going to say yes, before continuing "-so I was hoping my best friend would help me pick one out"

And Eddie feels a little drunk (is this what Buck felt when he did this to him?) but he says "I'd love to, yeah" and they spend the rest of the shift not getting farther than a foot away from each other and smiling down at whatever they're pretending to be working on

So they go ring shopping again. They get the same salesperson, and pretend very seriously that this is a return favor for Buck helping Eddie last week, and that they're definitely marrying different people, they're just here as each other's best friend

And Buck carries the ring they picked out for Eddie around in his pocket until Eddie proposes because he wants to be ready, and it takes a couple weeks for Eddie to get it all set up and they both feel electrified the whole time

I don't know how Eddie eventually proposes, but Buck loves it and cries and says yes and gives Eddie his ring, and all their friends are very happy for them while also thinking how insufferable they are

And then they live happily ever after

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Serial Killer(s)

Your mother always warned you to never give rides to strangers, but the hitchhiker you run into seems harmless. What's the worst that can happen? Tags: implied noncon

Things originally start well. You and your buddies piled into your roommate's Jeep, roof down, pop music blasting. You're the driver - always the responsible one - hair tied back and sunglasses on the edge of your nose. You're all dressed for summer. Bikini tops and board shorts, smeared with sunscreen - the picture of college fun.

It starts well and keeps going even better. You're all in high spirits. Flushed and happy and young. Picking up the hitchhiker seems like a good idea. You see that he's handsome and around your age, that he's got an easy smile and a guitar on his back. You see that and nothing else. Not the too quick eyes, not the surprisingly light backback. Nothing.

He ends up riding shotgun, talking to you about classes and shitty professors. Smiling just a little every time you shift gears and your hand brushes his thigh.

You like him. You're the only single in the car so it's natural that he spends the most time talking to you. Lord knows it's hard to keep a conversation going with a couple when they look like they'd rather be tonsil deep in each other's throats.

You like him and you get the feeling he likes you too. When you stop at a sleazy motel for the night, he invites you to eat dinner with him outside his room. All your friends are off doing what couples do best - getting cosy in the hot tub, testing the speeds on the vibrating bed, finding new and interesting ways to use the ice machine. So you're glad for the company.

Mostly.

You're almost done eating when he pops the question.

"Why don't you have a boyfriend?"

You look away from him. Take in the greasy boxes of takeout on the concrete, the neon red wash of the vacancy sign spelling across the parking lot. It's not an easy question. It brings up ugly memories.

"I used to have one. Things ended...badly. He's in Cook County Corrections now. Serving fifty to life."

He gives a low whistle.

"That bad huh? You ever go to see him?"

"No. Never."

He stretches out, folds his hands behind his head and looks up at the dull scattering of stars.

"You should. It gets lonely in there. A guy could use the pick me up, especially if the visitor is a pretty thing like you."

You shiver despite the balmy summer air.

"I'd rather not. I'll be happy to never see his face again."

Thankfully, he drops the subject. You go back to talking about awful first dates and the best dishes to order at a Chinese restaurant. He's a complete gentleman but you can't help the slight relief you feel when he stands to leave.

" 'Night gorgeous."

"Good night, stranger."

In the morning you walk out to see him reading the early paper. He crumples and tosses it before you can catch the headline.

" 'Morning. How did you sleep?"

You shrug. "Not the best. I swear these kinds of places all get their beds from the same supplier. Lumpy Mattresses Inc."

He grins. "Don't forget their trusty partner Damp and Musty Carpets LTD."

Your friends are slow to wake up and groggy when they do. Most of them nursing nasty hangovers. You and the hitchhiker have most of the morning to eat breakfast and shoot the breeze together. When it's time to leave, he takes his place in the passenger seat like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"I couldn't find any newspapers," one of your friends complains when you're back on the road.  

"I wanted to see the football results."

"Eagles beats the Rams in the final playoff," the hitchhiker says.

"Aww man. Where'd you get a paper from?"

"I must have gotten lucky. Staff is 'sposed to leave the local paper at reception. Guess they must not have the budget anymore."

You stay quiet but something doesn't feel quite right about that statement.

The day passes fast. Your playlist is a lot more mellow, on account of the many lingering headaches. Still, you think there's nothing quite as fine as the open road. It's only near evening when the trouble starts.

"Shit. I can't find our reservations."

You look at your friends in the rear view mirror. They've already pulled apart two backpacks trying to find the papers. You can't help feeling irritated. The one thing you asked them to take care of...

You pull over and search the Jeep from top to bottom. Unpack almost everything. Check and then recheck your pockets. Nothing.

"I'm really sorry y/n. On the phone they said we needed the copies to check in. Maybe we can still stop by and get it sorted with the front desk but..."

You can here the unspoken thought in their words. You're all thinking the same thing - that hotels can get so uptight when their potential guests are rowdy students with still bloodshot eyes. You worry at your nail, thinking. You paid the fees in advance so maybe if you showed them your credit card...

"My friend has a cabin not far from here," the hitchhiker says. "Pretty big place. He'd be happy to let us crash there for the night."

You bite your lip. It's a two hour drive to the hotel. And if they turn you away you'll be off the beaten path with almost no cash, on a near empty petrol tank.

"You think he'd mind letting us sleep on his couch?" you ask. "We'll be well-behaved and I can pay."

He smiles at you, totally easy going about the whole thing.

"Sure we'll just have to call ahead."

You manage to track down a payphone and you wait with the rest of your crew while he calls. You can't make out what he's saying but every once in a while his eyes drift to you. No one else. Just you.

If you didn't know any better, you'd say he was talking about you.

When he puts the receiver down, he's all smiles.

"Got it all sorted. It's out of the way though, so I reckon we grab some chow first."

Your friends are quick to agree. What self respecting kid on spring break is going to say no to fast food and cold beer? It's only you that lingers, brow furrowed. It all feels too convenient. Your reservations go missing and the stranger you picked up just happens to have a place nearby? No way. The more you think about, it the stranger it seems.

You're still lost in thought when the hitchhiker swings an arm around your shoulders and half drags you along behind your friends.

"What's you got you so worried gorgeous?"

It's hard to be suspicious of him when he smile so easy, his shaggy brown hair dancing across his forehead.

"Nothing. I just hate to intrude on your friend."

He laughs, squeezing your shoulders before letting go.

"Trust me he'll be very glad for the company. He doesn't get out much."

He pulls the diner door open for you. Your friends have already claimed a booth and a single harried waitress is struggling to jot down their long list of requests. The hitchhiker grabs your hand before you can join them.

"My friend is a great guy. I think you'll like him."

He smiles, crooked and amused, like he's laughing at a joke only he understands.

"Hell, I know for a fact that he'll like you. You're just his type."

Your smile is tight. The last guy who said you were just his type... well, you and the district attorney both know how that ended.

You take a seat and smile at the waitress. She looks beyond overwhelmed and you silently promise to tip her as well as your half drained credit card can manage.

"I'll take a steak. Rare. Bloody as you can make it," the hitchhiker says.

You raise your brows. Not exactly the typical order for an out of the way little diner. He sees your look and grins.

"Been a while without good meat. You have no idea the craving I've had this past few days."

The booth is packed tight and his thigh is flush against yours. Warm, even though his jeans.

"We all get cravings now and again. I get it."

He tilts his head at you and it must be a trick of the light, because his pupils are blown out wide. It looks like you're staring into oil. Just... emptier somehow. You wouldn't go so far as to say he feels soulless, but if it's not in the same street it sure as hell is in the same neighbourhood. Like oil, it leaves you feeling dirty in a way that doesn't easily scrub off.

"Do you?" he asks quietly.

You open your mouth to say something along the lines of I'm only human and of course I do but his eyes stop you. He isn't talking about food or meat. No. It feels like he's asking about flesh.

One of your friends cracks a joke and you turn away from him in a hurry, pretending to laugh at something you only half heard. You don't talk to him for the rest of the meal. Try to avoid looking him even. But you can't avoid the feel of his leg against yours. Warm and solid. Can't ignore the way your heart jumps when he reaches for his wallet and his fingers accidentally scrape you inner thigh.

You're the last one out of the diner. You throw away the dirty napkins and, true to your word, tip the waitress as well as you can manage. You're half afraid that he might wait for you, but when the door clicks shut behind you, you see him with the rest of your friends. Joking around with some of the boys.

The second you start towards them, his eyes fix on yours. You aren't sure how he does it - always narrowing in on you like you have your own gravitational pull. Like he's aware of your every move.

"Ready to go?"

Are you? You aren't sure. Some dull instinct is making you want to turn tail and run. You try and talk yourself out of it. What concrete evidence do you have? What has he done wrong, besides be a little intense? Folk do that all the time and it doesn't bother you. And it's not like you'll be alone. Your whole pack of friends will be right next to you.

"Yeah, let's go. Time doesn't wait for anyone."

It's a long drive. The highway splitting off into a main road and then splintering into a half-dozen country tracks. By the time you arrive, you're beyond grateful for choosing the Jeep. Heaven alone knows how much more jostling and bouncing your teeth could take.

It's a nice place. A big cabin out in a clearing, the trees thick for miles around. Much nicer than the crummy hotel you'd otherwise have to settle for. You can't even hear the traffic.

Your friends grab their bags and the hitchhiker holds the front door open as you all file in. The entryway is clean and bright, and besides the lingering tang of bleach, there's nothing to set your suspicions racing. Honestly, you feel a little silly for being so paranoid. Must be the bad memories. They make you jumpy regardless of actual circumstances.

"Where's your friend?"

You turn just in time to see the hitchhiker slipping something small and metallic into his pocket.

"Is that the key for the -"

"My friend will be here soon," he talks over you, loud enough to get everyone's attention. "I'll show you guys your rooms and once you get settled, we can grab some beers and hit the hot tub."

He brushes past you and ignores your half-hearted grab for his arm. Your friends are already pounding up the stairs, too hyped to notice your expression. He pauses on the landing and looks back at you - the only one still standing by the door. His eyes are bright and almost hard.

"You coming?"

Nothing to be scared of, right? It's a common habit to lock the front door, especially out in the woods.

"Yep. Right behind you."

But no matter what you tell yourself, your feet still drag along when you follow him deeper into the cabin. Further and further from escape.

You're the only one who gets a room of their own. Everyone else is piled two and three deep in the guest rooms, half your buddies on couches more than beds.

You're also the last to get a room, so by the time he shows you your bed, it's only you and him. You wonder if he planned it on purpose.

"Quiet out here."

He hums in agreement, standing at your window and watching the woods. He stays silent while you unpack. Whatever he's watching for takes all his attention.

It's only when you hear your friends start splashing around in the hot tub that he speaks.

"You should probably take a shower before anyone else. The water is unreliable out here."

You silently agree. It's s been a long day, and while a quick dip in the jacuzzi sounds good, a hot shower and a cool bed sound even better. He pauses at your bedroom door to say good night. You're already heading to the bathroom and you only half hear the rest of his sentence.

"Sleep tight. And don't worry too much about any noises you hear. There's mountain lions around and the sound carries funny sometimes."

He closes your door softly behind him. Your en-suite is echoey, and when you turn on the water, you don't hear the quiet click of him locking you in.

After your shower, you're totally exhausted. You don't even bother leaving your room to check on your friends. You just curl up under your borrowed duvet and drift off. When you half wake at three in the morning to the dying echo of a scream, you mutter something about mountain lions and fall right back to sleep.

You don't see it but the figure in the corner of your room smiles. Moonlight catching for a split second on the butcher's knife in his hand.

"You always were a deep sleeper, baby. Can never remember your dreams."

Morning comes fast after that. When you wake, the only evidence of your midnight visitor is a slightly misplaced pair of sneakers that you're too drowsy to notice.

Your room door opens easily and you're half way down the stairs before you even start to wonder where your friends are.

Still sleeping probably. Had a late night.

The only sign that someone else is awake is a half empty pot of coffee and a dirty mug in the sink. You don't really feel comfortable rooting around in someone else's kitchen, but the hitchhiker did say to help yourself... You end up snatching a small Greek yogurt from the fridge and taking it out to the porch.

The forest is alive with bird song, dew still melting in the grass. It's peaceful. Tranquil. For the first time, you're entirely happy that you accepted the hitchhiker's offer.

The only thing that disrupts the picture perfect scene is a single discarded sneaker, thick with mud and left right in the middle of the yard.

You sigh. Did one of your friends really lose a whole shoe and not notice? You pick it up and knock the worst of the mud off.

So much for being well-behaved. You'll have to check over the whole place before you leave, make sure they haven't somehow tanked to the property value. The edges of the laces are stained a rusty red but you chalk it up to spilled wine or something.

You drop the shoe at the door and make your way back into the kitchen. It takes some searching but you finally find the dustbin, half hidden in a cupboard. Ugh, why do rich people always have to hide the trash away in the most obscure places?

Yesterday's paper is shoved under some tea bags, the edges of the front page barely visible.

CONVICTS ESCAPE COOK COUNTY

You frown, you gut suddenly nauseous and rolling. You dig the newspaper out of the trash. Slowly. Hesitantly. Amost afraid that the reality will be twice as bad as your suspicions. There's a massive stain on the front but you can still read the print clearly.

CONVICTS ESCAPE COOK COUNTY CORRECTIONS. MANHUNT UNDERWAY.

You don't bother to read the article. The pictures alone tell you everything. You feel sick enough to faint.

You didn't think you'd ever see his face again, but here it is. Mugshot slightly blurry and the ink starting to run. Scowling at the camera like he's more pissed at being caught than anything else.

Your ex boyfriend.

You might have been fine if it was just him. Might have called the DA and the lead homicide detective, begged for witness protection. But trouble never visits without company. There's another mugshot under his, this one captioned Serial Arsonist & Convicted Killer.

The hitchhiker wasn't smiling when the cops lined him up for his red carpet shoot. His eyes are as black and empty in his mugshot as they were last night. When he looked at you and said he was craving meat. Meat.

You might have laughed if you didn't think you were about to vomit. Yeah, he was probably craving meat alright. The roasted and still screaming kind.

You drop the newspaper, hands shaking so bad you can't hold onto it even if you wanted to.

"I told him to take out the trash. But does he listen?"

You whirl around. The hitchhiker is blocking the back door and holding your friend's lost sneaker, rolling the stained laces between his fingers.

"Thanks for grabbing this, gorgeous. If we missed it, the pigs would be back on our asses in no time."

You run.

You don't bother hearing him out or rationalising. You turn away from him and bolt straight for the front door.

You almost make it.

Your fingers just brush the metal of the doorknob before someone grabs a handful of your hair and yanks you towards them, hard enough that you end up on your back. Winded. Your scalp burning.

"Gonna leave without even saying hello? C'mon baby, is that how you greet your man?"

Your boyfriend is standing above you, smirking like this is all a game. He's still in his prison jumpsuit, the sleeves knotted around his waist. He's wearing a white tank and one glance is enough to tell you that prison has been great for his gym journey. His muscles - always toned to begin with - are positively huge.

He's always been strong, but the sight of him like this has your heart racing. How much harder can he hit, with all that extra bulk to back him up?

He slams you back onto the floor when you move to get up, his boot pressing into your sternum so hard you can almost hear your bones creaking.

"Aww, don't get up baby. Let's just talk. We've got so much to catch up on."

He presses his heel into you. Hard enough that you can't breathe out it hurting.

"Where to start... Oh, I know! Have you fucked anyone else while I've been gone? Gotten yourself a new man? Who's been between your legs while I've. Been. Rotting. Away?"

He punctuates his sentence with sharp jabs of his boot.

"No one," you managed to choke out. "Didn't have anybody."

He takes his boot off your chest and you suck in a painful breath, your lungs and ribs on fire. You roll onto you hands and knees, coughing.

Shit. Fuck.

He squats down so he's level with you, voice a sickly sweet drawl.

"You promise?"

"I-" Another painful coughing fit. "I swear. No one else."

"I don't know if I can believe you, baby. You said you loved me, and then you ratted on me to the cops. Not the best record."

He grabs your hair and hauls you to your feet, totally unbothered that you still can't breathe right.

You shriek and try to pull away, only for him to wrap a hand around your throat and pin you against his chest.

He squeezes hard enough that your larynx feels like it's going to collapse.

"What do you think I should do?"

You think he's asking you, but it's the hitchhiker that answers. He's leaning against the kitchen door, arms crossed like he's watching two kittens at play rather than seeing your boyfriend almost choke the life out of you.

"I reckon we should check. Her cunt should be all tight and wet after months without cock. And if it isn't...well, there's your answer."

"You hear that baby? We're gonna make sure you've been well behaved."

We?

You start fighting all the harder. One murderer is enough. You don't want both their hands on you. You'll never be able to scrub yourself clean again.

The hitchhiker smirks and pushes himself away from the wall. His pupils are all wide again, twin blackholes hungry enough to swallow you, your friends, the whole damn world.

Adrenaline is a hell of a thing but you're up against two convicted killers who've had nothing but time to get stronger. Who've had the world's hardest lessons in cruelty.

Your boyfriend lets go of your hair and grabs one flailing wrist. He bends your arm up your back until you heads tucked under his chin and you're standing on your tiptoes to alleviate the pressure.

The hitchhiker twists one ankle behind yours so you can't kick out of him. It feels like a move cops and wardens might use. He must have had it done to him plenty, if he can so easily put you in the same position.

"I'll scream."

That makes them laugh.

"Go on then gorgeous. Scream. No one heard your friends last night. What makes you think they'll hear you?"

Your friends... You were panicking so bad you hadn't even considered them. The hitchhiker sees your eyes go wide and grins that easy, friendly grin of his. The one that made you trust him enough to give him a ride.

"Oh, we took good care of them. I'll spare you the grisly details but there's no one left out here but us."

It's too awful to consider. Too visceral. Too unreal. Your mind blocks it out and changes your whole train of thought to focus on escaping.

You focus on your boyfriend. He isn't acting like himself. The same man who put his hand on the bible and swore before the court that he killed all those people because of you - that man - was suddenly willing to share? Was inviting someone else to enjoy your body?

"You're going to let him touch me? You killed my lab partner because you said he would jerk off to pictures of me. What the hell changed?"

Your boyfriend hums.

"A whole lot. He's my cellmate."

Like that explains anything!

The hitchhiker slips his fingers under the hem of your top, nails running along your waistband.

"He wouldn't shut up about you. Had your pictures pinned up above his bed and everything. It was so fucking annoying at first. My girl this, my baby that. But after a few months..."

He pops open the button of your jeans with a flick of his thumb. You jerk away but your boyfriend twists your arm even harder and you're forced to hold still.

"After a few months, I started to understand the appeal. Could see why he was so into you. And hell, I wanted a taste myself. Wanted to see if you lived up to the hype."

Your boyfriend is smiling. You can tell from his voice.

"And is she worth all the hard work we put in?"

The hitchhiker's hands are cold. You flinch when he slips his fingers past your panties. He rubs his thumb against your slit, savouring every inch.

"For her? I'd kill twice as many as we did last night."

He sighs as he feels your slick starting to collect around his knuckles. Without warning, he slides two fingers inside you. Cold, uncomfortably cold.

He has a guitarist's hands and you can feel the callouses on his fingertips scraping against your walls. Too rough. Too much.

"Just like I thought. Tight and wet. Your girls loyal to a fault."

Your boyfriend practically purrs.

"Been so good while I was gone, baby. You deserve a reward, dontcha?"

He leans down and nips your cheek. You feel sick. His teeth so close...

"Don't worry. We'll fill you up so good that you'll never try running again."

Your spring break road trip starts well and gets better. But the end? Well, it ends with a cock down your throat in and another in your cunt. It ends with a hand around your neck and teeth marks on your thighs. It ends with a reminder to always trust your instincts and to never, ever give rides to strangers.