#best mime(s)

[mars--madness]

I love French Twist

sorry for the spam!!

[oceantornadoo]

ch8 the wrong john | masterlist | next

tw: dubcon kissing (somnophilia), more pet play dirty talk, multiple holes are used, smut and angst in the same chap bc why not.

john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin

--

Thankfully, your new boyfriend does not give in to the urge to punch your brother.

“Johnny!” You move out from behind John, in no way afraid of your brother. “You can’t just hit him!” You yell. Johnny’s still as red as a tomato, huffing from the punch he threw. You can tell the captivity took its toll on him, because you’ve never seen him winded from just one punch. Instinct takes over, you and Simon catching Johnny before he stumbles. The doctor from earlier rushes over, telling her radio that they need a wheelchair, stat. The anger slowly drains from Johnny’s face, replaced with a world-weary look. He seems ten years older, a jarring thought since you’re only three minutes apart.

“Johnny, let’s talk about it later, ok?” The wheelchair arrives and you help him into it, Simon fighting off the doctor who’s arguing he needs one too. You try to grab Johnny’s hand but he snatches it back before you can. It’s like a shot to the heart. He avoids eye contact as the doctor wheels him away. Did you just lose your twin?

“Hey, hey, c’mere.” John scoops you up from behind, turning you so you’re against his chest. It’s like a switch has been flipped as the tears flow. You messed up, shouldn’t have let John kiss you in front of your brother. This is exactly what you wanted to avoid. You wanted to give Johnny time to adjust, time to gain his strength back, before slowly broaching the topic in a controlled manner. You did not want a punch to be thrown at 5 am. It was simply too much to handle. John’s fingers dig into the nape of your neck, anchoring you to the moment. He’s so kind, even though he was just punched, and the thought makes you cry harder. 

-

John’s jaw aches, but not as much as his heart does. It’s hard to handle his sweetheart sobbing in his arms, especially since he hasn’t seen her in weeks. The kiss was not his best move, but he blames it on the early hour and lack of sleep. The mission was absolutely grueling, the kidnappers making themselves almost impossible to track. “Almost” because, well, he did get this job for a reason. But now his team is fucked and his new girlfriend has a broken heart he can’t fix. He couldn’t even blame Johnny because if it was his sister, he would have done the same thing.

Kyle went with the doctor, so now it’s just him and his girl on a godforsaken roof on a dreary London morning. He’s been rubbing circles on her back for a while now and can feel the tears slowly stopping, her breathing becoming even. “Feel better?” She shakes her head ‘no’ and he can’t help but laugh. 

“How’s your face?” She asks, pulling back out of his grasp to inspect it. Her eyes are puffy and there’s a bit of snot on her nose. She’s beautiful. “‘S ok. Not the first time I’ve been punched.” Soft fingers turn his jaw this way and that. She sucks in a breath as she inspects the damage. “You’re gonna bruise, John.” The bruise won’t show through his beard so he shrugs, then starts herding her into the elevator. He desperately wants to shower and tuck her under the covers, then maybe eat her out later if his jaw lets him. Hopefully an orgasm would make her a little less sad. 

Thankfully, John gets his way. He’s not a messy man, his cleanliness only rivaling Garrick’s, but his room is suspiciously much cleaner than how he left it. The floors are practically sparkling. When he asks, his pet mimes a zipper, throwing the key away. John picks her up, ignoring the creak of his joints from sleeping on floors for the past week, and throws her on the bed. “Stay.” She nods, eyes big and wet, and it’s a herculean effort to drag himself away. It’s the quickest shower of his life, a little toothbrushing, and he’s finally where he belongs. With her.

“Missed you, sweetheart.” He tugs her on top of him so they’re chest to chest, her cunt on his lower belly. She’s taken off her sweatshirt and shorts, so it’s just two thin layers of fabric that separate them. “I missed you too. You sure you don’t want ice or something? I’m practically best friends with the nurses now, I’m sure they won’t mind.” He rolls them over so he’s between her tits, right at home. “‘M fine. Go t’ sleep.” She finally gets the memo and hums contentedly, fingers scratching at John’s scalp like he’s her cat. He loves it.

-

You wake up to the feeling of something scratching you. Your cat is so annoying.

“Bubbles…stop…” The feeling does stop, but as the fog slowly clears from your brain, you realize your cat is nowhere to be found. John’s beard is the culprit, wet with…spit? He’s pulled your shirt up and from the look of it, has been laving at your tits for a while now. “You mistake me for the cat, sweetheart?” You bite back a smile, shaking your head. “Was dreaming. Please, don’t stop on my account.”

Now that you’re awake, John can start giving you the full treatment. He sucks on one nipple, a callused hand squeezes it like he’s trying to get milk out. Your hips move of their own according, bucking against his hairy chest. The pain feels delicious as he bites and sucks. Your hand threads through his hair, grasping on strands for something to hold. He switches to your other nipple but keeps his hand on your tit, pinching one while sucking another. He’s so loud about it, wet and messy in a way that makes you want to hide your face. Your hips fight gravity as they move, the hair on his chest providing friction as you move up and down. You could come like this.

“John.” He gets the memo, his unoccupied hand gripping your waist and helping you grind against him. “Gonna come, baby?” It’s like a spark to your core, the coil inside you growing exponentially with every grind. He’s leaving marks that might bruise, every bite lighting your nerves on fire. Your cunt is sopping, legs straining with the effort of maintaining your grind. Removing his mouth, he pinches both of your nipples at the same time, the effect of it bringing your right to the edge. 

“Ya like that? Cunny’s all messy, baby.” You can only nod at his words. It’s desperation, your shirt hiked up to your chin, tits shiny with spit, cunt seeping. His beard is soaked, the hair on his chest matting with your slick. Both hands move your hips against his belly and he bites a nipple at the same time, the action sending you over the edge with a whine. Your empty cunt flutters against him, clit puffy from the friction of his hair. “Fuck, John.” He captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, eating your face as you come down from the orgasm. 

John drops your hips, letting your cunt envelop his cock, still in his boxers. You whine at the pressure, a pitiful noise. “Lemme eat then come on you, yeah?” You nod vigorously and he chuckles at the sight. 

He licks you from ass to clit, smiling when you jump at the overstimulation. Your body is on the edge of orgasm, an almost continuation of the first. John eats sloppily, tounging the bud of your clit then flattening his tongue over the whole of it. He nearly drags you off the bed so he can be on his knees on the floor, tugging out his cock with one hand while he holds you steady with the other. That hand holding you steady grips the inside of your thigh, his thumb dangerously close to somewhere else. He prods at it, looking at you for confirmation. You nod tentatively and he slides a bit of his thumb in, giving your clit a good suck at the same time. There’s so much pressure and despite being empty you feel full, like you’re about to explode. John won’t shut up, speaking in between occupying his mouth.

“Y’r so trusting, pet.”

“Bet you were lonely without me.”

“Jus’ one more, yeah? Then I’ll let you sleep.”

You nod at the last one, feeling on edge. He slides his thumb in to the first knuckle, keeping the same pressure on your clit, and you lose it, walls spasming at his touch. Your second orgasm washes over you, your body flopping against the bed as the coil releases. John crouches up with his thumb still in you. His cock is hard and glistening in his hand, the sheen of precum all over it. You tug your shirt up from where it’s fallen and he smirks, his beard making it more pronounced. 

“That’s a good girl. Good pet f’ me.” His cum is thick and creamy, landing on your sore tits as his thumb slips out, the pressure finally releasing. “Jesus, John.” You're soaked in sweat and cum and slick, courtesy of the man in front of you. He leaves and quickly comes back with a warm washcloth, wiping down your body, then his own. “We can shower later.” You nod, making space for him in the bed. You’re both sweating anyways, so he tugs off the comforter so it’s just you and the fitted sheet. 

“You did so good.” He murmurs as you tuck yourself into him. “I like this boyfriend treatment.” You whisper back. He kisses your forehead softly. “Good, ‘cause yer stuck with me.” You kiss his pec, then snuggle in for a few more hours. John holds you until you’re asleep, then quietly slips out and takes a quick shower. The sight of you in his bed almost makes him stay, but there’s someone he needs to talk to.

-

“Ye here to discharge me?” Soap’s all bravado, but it’s hard to sound intimidating in a hospital gown. John lets him have it, picking his way through the room to sit in the chair near Soap’s bed. “‘m not apologizin’.” Soap mutters. John huffs out a laugh. “Didn’t ‘pect you to, Soap. Glad you’re doin’ better.” 

Severe dehydration. Not starved, but close to it. Bruising on wrists and ankles, likely from cuffs. One bruised rib. That’s what the doctor said before he walked in. Simon got the same treatment and he’s resting in the room over, Kyle keeping him company. The outcome is better than he expected, to be honest. Most captors would love to give Soap a beating for every quip, but John suspects being near Simon calmed him down. Another thing he has to thank the Lieutenant for.

The room is silent. There’s only one thing to be said.

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened t’ me.” Soap doesn’t answer, focusing his gaze on the door. “We met the night ‘fore she came to base. Would’ve seen her again no matter what. Yer sister or not.” Soap blinks and John takes that as a sign to go ahead.

“I know y’ve got a special connection. ‘M not here to break it. ‘M askin’ for the chance t’ love her too.” John laughs to himself. “Well, not really askin’, Johnny. But you an’ I have got a life bond too and I’m tryin’ to respect it.” It’s the first time John’s ever called him Johnny. Obviously, being around his girl is starting to affect him.

“Ye love her?” Johnny’s voice is gravelly, not at its usual level of honey-coated confidence. “I do.” Johnny gives a nod of approval, a minuscule dip of his head. “Christ, ah tried hookin’ her up with Gaz.” His captain frowns. “So Kyle’s good ‘nough but not me?” Finally, Johnny locks eyes with him. “Gaz wouldn’t break ‘er heart. Ye would.” John gives him a sour smile. “She rejected me right before I left to find you, actually. She’s been sayin’ we couldn’t date for months an’ I’ve had a ring in my drawer the whole time.”

Johnny groans. He tries to cover his eyes but he’s still hooked up to the IV. “Can’t believe you’ll be my brother-in-law, Cap. Yer so old.” John scoffs. ���Could hook Gaz up with y’r cousin an’ we’ll all be related.” That’s what breaks the ice. Both of the men laugh and John reaches over to squeeze Johnny’s shoulder. “That’s the only punch I’ll ever let you have, Soap. Keep that in mind next time you have a twin squabble.”

Johnny’s brows furrow at the mention of his twin. “I need t’ talk to the lass.” John squeezes his shoulder one more time, then stands up. “I’ll find ‘er for you.”

It’ll be the most important conversation of their lives.

-

We got john pov! I hope the switches between John and Johnny weren’t too confusing lol.

Just one chapter left…thank u guys for all the kind comments it means the most <3

-

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[fun-k-board]

Mortal Kombat 1 Intros with a Spider-Man Reader

Characters included : Johnny Cage, Kung Lao, Kitana, Mileena, Sindel, Syzoth / Reptile.

Notes(s) : There are adult ones, which are either romantic/flirty or platonic. Then teen ones, which are just platonic.

MK1 with a Venom Symbiote Reader here!

Johnny Cage

Adult Reader -

Reader : Cage, you can't be serious.

Johnny : Oh, come on, at least imagine kissing while you're invisible, please.

-

Reader : For the last time, I'm too busy fighting crime to be in your movies.

Johnny : Come on, babe, a cinematic universe with Spider-People? It'll be a hit!

-

Johnny : No, wait, just hear me out, Man-Spider, a Spider gets bitten by a radioactive man!

Reader : I don't know why I talk to you...

-

Johnny : You seriously couldn't have chosen a better suit.

Reader : It's not meant to be sexy, but if it can distract you in this fight I'm all for it.

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Wait, you're serious? I can be in one of your movies?!

Johnny : Sure, kid, anything for an adoring fan.

-

Reader : It's... It's such a dream to meet you, you're so awesome in Ninja Mime, I-

Johnny : Let me guess, you want an autograph?

-

Johnny : So, a radioactive Spider is still out there, making more of you?

Reader : I may have accidentally killed it before I knew...

-

Johnny : Hah, I'm a martial arts superstar, some spider-kid isn't getting the best of me.

Reader : I've defeated men twice the size of you!

-

Kung Lao

Adult Reader -

Reader : Yes, webs come out of my wrists, why?

Kung Lao : Do they come out of... Anywhere else?

-

Reader : I do everything I can to protect the people I love.

Kung Lao : Would I happen to be one of them?

-

Kung Lao : You're always missing our dates...

Reader : I'm sorry, but crime is everywhere and I need to stop it.

-

Kung Lao : You're buying me dinner at Madame Bo's for the incident at Johnny's.

Reader : I didn't mean to activate my electricity in the pool!

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Why would I crawl on Madame Bo's ceiling?

Kung Lao : There's webs up there, they fall down on the food sometimes.

-

Reader : I can't take a break, someone could get hurt-

Kung Lao : You're a kid, this isn't your responsibility.

-

Kung Lao : Ah! You can't sneak up on me like that!

Reader : It's not my fault, I didn't realise I was invisible!

-

Kung Lao : Wait a minute, you're part Spider, but afraid of them?

Reader : Don't say it so loud, someone could hear!

-

Kitana

Adult Reader -

Reader : I don't know, can you handle my electricity?

Kitana : Don't underestimate me, Earthrealmer.

-

Reader : Kitana, I don't understand what you mean?

Kitana : I mean, Earthrealmer, I would love to see what those webs of yours can be used for.

-

Kitana : That magic you possess, it's incredible!

Reader : I got bit by a radioactive Spider, it's not magic.

-

Kitana : Stop turning invisible around the palace, it's making Mileena suspicious.

Reader : I can't help it, it happens when I relax!

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Once a great man told me that with great power comes great responsibility

Kitana : He must've meant a lot to you

-

Reader : I'll zap you if you get too close!

Kitana : Ha, are all Earthrealmers so immature?

-

Kitana : I doubt you'll best me in Kombat.

Reader : Just know that you'll never live it down when I do.

-

Kitana : I can't believe my mother thinks so lowly of you, you're only a child.

Reader : You'd be surprised.

-

Mileena

Adult Reader -

Reader : I don't think your sister likes me much...

Mileena : It's because you keep crawling on the ceilings.

-

Reader : I'm sorry for electrocuting you.

Mileena : I was under the effects of my affliction, you were only defending yourself.

-

Mileena : You're awfully close to that Earthrealm girl.

Reader : Gwen's just a friend, Mileena.

-

Mileena : That's a cute trick you have there.

Reader : What about spider webs are cute??

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Can you train me?

Mileena : Only if you teach me your own moves.

-

Reader : I'm more than capable of fighting!

Mileena : I understand the feeling of being underestimated, Earthrealmer.

-

Mileena : Your abilities are useful in Kombat.

Reader : I want to protect anybody who can't match them.

-

Mileena : Never go invisible during an Outworld dinner again.

Reader : I'm sorry, I got nervous!

-

Sindel

Adult Reader -

Reader : I apologise for accidentally using my powers last night...

Sindel : Don't be, dear, it was an interesting experience.

-

Reader : With great power, comes great responsibility.

Sindel : Inspiring words, I trust you to live up to them.

-

Sindel : Your abilities are promising, let's hope you put them to good use.

Reader : I'll do my best, I always try to.

-

Sindel : I never thought I'd feel this way again...

Reader : What? I don't understand, Empress.

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Oh, come on! It's so fun to swing around!

Sindel : It's childish at best, Earthrealmer

-

Reader : You're so level headed...

Sindel : And you're immature.

-

Sindel : Hah! Liu Kang sends a child?

Reader : Will you people stop acting like I'm incompetent?!

-

Sindel : You are a worthy adversary, but far too much of a jester.

Reader : I fight crime flawlessly, I should get to joke once and a while!

-

Syzoth / Reptile

Adult Reader -

Reader : I love you, Syzoth, but I can't stay.

Reptile : I won't fault you for returning to Earthrealm to protect your family.

-

Reader : You want us both to be invisible while we-

Reptile : It was just an idea.

-

Reptile : Our abilities make us challenging adversaries.

Reader : It's only fitting that we come together as one.

-

Reptile : You are always away from me.

Reader : I have responsibilities at home, Syzoth.

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Woah, you can turn invisible? So can I!

Reptile : But are you as stealthy as me?

-

Reader : Look at me! I'm upside down!

Reptile : I can see that, Earthrealmer.

-

Reptile : You need to stay home, even with your abilities, it's far too dangerous here.

Reader : I can handle this place!

-

Reptile : Just because you can electrocute people, doesn't mean you're prepared to fight Shang Tsung.

Reader : I have to at least try.

[heavilycaffeinatedsblog]

I was so happy to be part of @klance-daydreams's Klance Secret Santa! I was given @linipik and wrote a lil ficlet about Christmas Eve with klance and the gang :)

Merry Christmas!

Under the swell of Christmas music, Lance heard the clear sound of a puppy going somewhere they shouldn’t.  He snickered at the sound of Keith’s frustrated groan from the living room.  “Again?” He called. “Again,” Keith grunted along with the sound of jingling ornaments. “Kosmo, down.” Lance smiled as he listened to Kosmo’s soft whine and the scratch of his paws as he was tugged back from shoving his face into the Christmas tree. “God, he’s obsessed,” Keith sighed.  “He learned it from me,” Lance said proudly. When he told Keith, and by proxy Kosmo, to arrange the presents around the Christmas tree, he figured something like this would happen.   Eager paws slapped against the linoleum and Lance’s smile widened as he felt a small, wet nose brush against his ankle.  Lance looked down and smiled. “Hello, angel.” The Husky panted happily, tongue sticking out as he blinked at Lance.  “Don’t encourage him,” Keith grumbled, voice coming closer. Lance smiled when he felt arms wrap around his waist. “Smells good,” Keith murmured.  “I would hope so, considering that’s all it’s supposed to do,” Lance gave the cranberries, oranges, and cinnamon another stir. “It’s a simmer pot.” Keith’s chin dug into Lance’s shoulder as he peered over. “Hm.” “Now, what is that?” Lance said, turning in Keith’s arms to arch an eyebrow. “What?” Keith laughed, tugging lightly at the belt loops in Lance’s jeans.  “That felt like a judgy hm.” “I would never judge you and your simmer pot,” Keith said teasingly.  “Good, because your best boy is obsessed with it,” Lance said, waving the ladle to where Kosmo was sniffing eagerly next to the stove. Keith shook his head in disbelief, clicking his tongue and guiding Kosmo back into the living room. It was Christmas Eve. They were hosting a Christmas party for their friends and Lance was pretty determined to make it perfect. Keith was being his standard, endearing self and had Lance take the helm. Lance smiled a little to himself, already envisioning how Keith would happily hover in the corners of the party, taking people’s plates and refreshing drinks while Lance entertained front and center.  That was why they worked so well.  The Christmas tree rattled again.  “Kosmo, we are going to fight.” *** Christmas music rolled into the living room. There was a steady hum of people laughing  and chatting, the clink of wine glasses and beer bottles. The simmer pot was doing its God given duty and making the place smell like a winter wonderland.  Lance noticed Keith paused to study the pot with interest on several occasions and made a mental note to tease him about his intrigue later. Pidge and Hunk were leading a competitive game of Christmas charades, Hunk miming what looked like a sleigh ride.  Shiro, Adam, Allura, and Romelle were shouting out random guesses, ranging from chopping down a Christmas tree to driving in the snow. Keith was leaning against the wall behind them, watching with a small, content smile. But Lance could see the beginning of a competitive flicker in his eye.  Lance paused, let his heart clench as he watched his boyfriend, and then put Hunk out of his misery. “Sleigh ride.”  Hunk dropped, exhausted. Keith shot his boyfriend a challenging look, a smile growing. Hunk mimed lifting something light and hanging it.  “Decorating a Christmas tree!” Keith fired out. “Oh Jesus,” Shiro groaned. “You’ve set them off now.” Keith was leaning forward, watching Hunk like a hawk as he read the next piece of paper.  After a moment of thinking it over, Hunk acted as if he ate something and grimaced. Lance stared at him cluelessly. “Fruitcake!” Keith shouted suddenly.  Hunk looked impressed, nodding as he grabbed another piece of paper. He dramatically shivered. “Cold!” Lance shouted. “Snowing!” Keith followed.  Hunk tapped his nose and mimed smoking a pipe. “Scrooge!” “Snowman?” Allura asked.  Hunk tapped his nose. “Frosty the Snowman!” Keith and Lance bellowed. 

*** “I will sever your head and put it on a post if you don’t move.”  As their friends gasped and laughed, Keith threw on a cheeky grin from where he sat on the last chair. They were both crammed on the seat, their hips shoved against each other’s as they attempted to push the other off the chair. Keith had the advantage, smart enough to grab the other side of the chair so he was actively pulling himself to the other side. Lance was hanging off the edge, losing ground quickly.  Lance tried stopping on Keith’s feet, but the idiot was clever enough to keep his boots on, so Lance’s glittery Christmas socks did little damage. Keith’s cheeks were flushed from eggnog and his smile was wide and loose and he looked a little too gorgeous.   Lance eyed him, wondering how dirty he could play this without scandalizing their friends. They were all laughing, crammed together on the couch and methodically placing bets on who woud lose.  They were playing a type of musical chairs. The last person on a chair would get the $50 VISA gift card hanging on the Christmas tree. Shiro and Hunk were the first ones out, not nearly as savage as the others. Allura nearly tripped Romelle trying to get her out of a chair, Pidge looked close to biting Lance at one point, and now Lance was debating using his body to get what he wanted.  “Don’t,” Keith was grinning darkly now, as if reading Lance’s mind. “It’s Christmas.”  Lance weighed his options. “I’ll do the dishes.” Keith huffed dismissively at that, pushing himself further.  “And I’ll take Kosmo out to poop tonight!” Lance said, desperation sneaking through.  It was supposed to be hideously cold that night and Keith had already been bemoaning having to scoop up Kosmo’s poop out of the snow. “Not worth it,” Keith was smirking now. Lance could have surrendered. But his competitive streak was called a streak for a reason.  “Fine, how about this?” Lance leaned forward and whispered something in Keith’s ear.  Keith’s smug smile dropped as his neck flushed pink. He instantly stood, letting Lance triumphantly slide onto the chair fully.  Their audience on the couch erupted.  *** With only a few curses and confused barks, Keith successfully got the Christmas sweater over Kosmo’s head.  He grinned triumphantly as Kosmo’s tail thumped against the ground. “I think he likes it.” “I would hope so,” Lance leaned against the doorframe. “You were bloodthirsty in that game.” “The only way to play White Elephant is seriously,” Keith said with a wry smile, getting to his feet and reaching for Kosmo’s leash.  “Don’t clean up without me,” he reminded Lance, giving him a short peck on the lips before leaving Kosmo towards the door. With an excited bark, they were out the door. Lance stretched, yawning as he surveyed their kitchen. There was a sizable stack of dishes and glasses, a trash bag full of wrapping paper from the White Elephant game, but other than that, there wasn’t much to clean. Still, Keith had a weird thing about sharing the chores, so Lance instead moved to tidy up the living room. He found himself smiling widely, heart full from an evening with friends.  With a sigh, he sank onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He imagined the rest of his night. Keith would return and maybe could be convinced to push back cleaning the kitchen a little longer. They could lay on the couch and watch the fire and talk in low, hushed voices, and watch until it was Christmas. Lance felt like dishes would be easier in the early hours of Christmas rather than the end of Christmas Eve.  Then they would go to bed, not rushed, a little lazy, and would spend the morning quiet and calm, curled together with coffee and Kosmo, and then they would load up the car with too many presents because Lance got carried away as he always does, and then go to his family’s house. It all felt perfect, like he had finally caught something he had been reaching for. It was like a dream.  Lance smiled as the door opened. 

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Shut up and dance with me

steddie, omegaverse, a little bit of fun during my angst-fest to celebrate some follower milestones 🥰

Steve keeps saying he feels goofy wearing a suit, even if he’s happy to do it for Robin. It’s non-traditional, sticking an omega in black-tie. But neither is an alpha like Buckley having an omega as her best man. Her mating ceremony is beautiful, Chrissy absolutely sparkles, and Steve cries through half of it because he’s so happy for his best friend.

Eddie might cry a little, too.

He’s seated in the front row, with Robin’s family, since he and Steve are ‘capital S’ Serious, and Steve has practically been adopted by Robin’s parents. Melissa catches him crying and smiles; she’s certain to ask when he and Steve are going to tie the knot themselves.

He’s nowhere near ready to answer that one. Especially without Steve to help. Eddie hasn’t wanted to rush things, even being friends so long beforehand. Knows that he loves Steve more than anything. But they’ve barely been dating a year…

After the ceremony, Steve catches his eye from the reception line. “You good?” Eddie mouths, quirking a questioning brow.

Steve makes a dumb face—pretends to cry—gives him a thumbs up, and it’s like everything rearranges, his whole world shifting a couple inches to the left.

He knows.

All his worries about it being too fast float away like so much dust on the wind. He’d be happy enough watching Steve from across the room for the rest of his life, to giggle and mime at one another.

But after the reception, he gets to take Steve home.

Not being in the wedding party, he should honestly head over to the venue soon—after going through the receiving line. He kisses Chrissy’s cheek, tells her she looks stunning, high fives Robin for locking down her perfect omega, and whispers, “I’ll be waiting for you with a cocktail,” in Steve’s ear.

He manages to cop a feel, squeezing Steve’s ass before pulling back, earning him a tiny whine as they part.

Forcing himself to keep walking, Eddie hates leaving his m—

Hates leaving Steve. He wants to run back and scoop him into his arms. To keep him close.

Instead, he gets in Steve’s car and drives to the reception, grabs a scotch from the open bar, and distracts himself from missing Steve by chatting with Jonathan who is just as in need of the company since Argyle and Nancy are also in the wedding party.

Eddie’s on his second scotch when he hears whispers that the limo has arrived, and he goes to order a Manhattan for Steve with extra cherries. He’s barely got the coupe glass in hand before the DJ is announcing the new Mr. and Mrs. Buckley.

They’ve changed into their reception outfits: Chrissy’s dress short and frothy, Robin in metallic pants and a shirt unbuttoned halfway down her sternum, both of them already dancing as they make their grand entrance.

The whole room hoots and hollers as they burst into cheers.

The rest of the party has changed too. Nancy’s in a slinky dress, the depth of the black of it the only thing hiding the outline of her dick. Argyle is in shorts that make him seem ridiculously tall, and Heather is in a romper covered in rhinestones.

Then there’s Steve.

He’s dressed to match Robin in silver-sequined pants, trading the button-down for a loose tank top that shows off too much of his golden skin, freckles and moles like so many stars in the sky.

Eddie’s mouth waters as he makes his way over to him, drink in hand.

“Damn, sweetheart!” he says, eyes locked on Steve’s tits, needing to hold him by the sides and slip his thumbs in to tease his nipples.

Steve grips hush chin, tilts his gaze up until their eyes meet. “Thanks, babe.” He smiles into their kiss, uses his teeth a little.

Eddie offers him the drink, and Steve happily accepts, plucking out a cherry and popping it into his mouth. Another kiss, this one cherry-sweet, and Steve downs his drink, holding his extra cherry between his teeth for a long moment, grinning as he bites it in half.

“Why is it so hot when you do that?” Eddie rasps, his dress pants suddenly a little too tight.

Steve smiles, pulls half the cherry from between his lips, and presses it to Eddie’s mouth. “Shut up and dance with me, Munson,” he says, laughing, barely containing his delight.

He drags Eddie onto the dance floor, the alpha going willingly, hands easily finding their way onto Steve’s hips. Falling to the beat, into moving with one another is easy. So easy, Eddie nearly forgets his revelation from earlier.

And he’s distracted again by Steve’s chest.

“You okay there, Munson?” he teases, using a single finger to direct Eddie’s gaze back up to face him. “Keep your eyes on me.”

A purr rumbles through Eddie’s chest as he leans in close. “Why d’ya still call me Munson all the time, Stevie?” he murmurs, then kisses Steve’s ear.

“Like the way it sounds. I like everything about you, Eddie.” The words are soft and vulnerable, barely audible over the pulse of the music.

It makes Eddie brave enough to be vulnerable, too.

“How do you like the sound of Mrs. Munson? Or Ms.” He smiles. “Whichev-”

Steve cuts him off with a kiss.

“I like the sound of that a lot.”

[minisugakoobies]

Confessions of a Dirty Mind | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: smut, and they were roommates!, porn with the barest of plots, a little fluff Rating: M (18+) Warnings: incredibly thirsty pining, reader’s a bit feral for her roommate, the giggles will be deployed as a weapon, reader drops the d word (daddy) in her dirty thoughts but never says it out loud, accidental texts, body worship (abs, thighs, breasts - everything gets praised), love bites/marking, grinding, chan is thick everywhere, chan throws reader around a little, hints at dom!chan, fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), facefucking, cum eating, reader is kind of an idiot but that's okay!, I wrote this out of a dire need to s this man’s d Word Count: 6.5K Disclaimers: NSFW; obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: The absolute last thing you want is for your roommate to find out just how much you want him. Right?

A/N: Well, as threatened promised, I'm writing for Stray Kids now in addition to BTS! This came out of absolutely nowhere last week. I've just got Bang Chan brainrot 24/7 now, so that's cool. Thanks to @minttangerines @bangtanintotheroom @sugalaritae for their support (and amazing Aussie accents!!) 💕

Unbeta'd as usual. Please let me know what you think! Like if you'd like to see more skz fics from me… that would fuel me to keep writing. If everyone hates this I'm quitting writing and moving to the wild to live with the koalas ✌️

Being roommates with your crush is its own special type of torture. Always being so close to what you want but never being able to touch. To taste. To feel. 

You weren’t always this feral. Once upon a time, you were normal. Well-adjusted, even. Then you had to move for your job and needed to find a place to stay fast and your best friend Minho just happened to know someone looking for a roommate. 

Honestly, looking back, it was too easy. Should’ve known there’d be a catch. And that catch was your sanity. 

Because Minho’s friend Bang Chan turned out to be the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life. 

Listen. A lot of people use phrases like that all the time, “the hottest man you’ve ever seen,”  some hyperbole they say for ridiculous effect, but you mean it. You have never seen anyone as beautiful as this man, with his chiseled cheekbones, thick lips, and those dimples. 

Fuck. Those dimples. Almost as maddening as the washboard abs he’s constantly showing off. You didn’t know a person could be allergic to shirts until you met Chan. 

And now you’re suffering. Every. Damn. Day. 

It’s not just that he’s the most gorgeous man on the planet. No, that would be hurtful enough, but he’s also kind. Smart. Silly as hell. You’re constantly plagued by his sweet smiles and unbelievably adorable giggles. 

The worst part, though, is the way he can flip between sexy and soft instantaneously. Like when the two of you argue over something stupid. All of your arguments are fundamentally stupid. The two of you get on so fucking well, the only things you argue over are opinions on pointless things. Like last night, when you’d joined him for a beer while he watched tv. 

“You’re out of your mind,” Chan had declared, twisting sideways on the couch to look at you. “There’s no way a koala could possibly defeat a kangaroo in a cage match!”

“Sure it could.” 

“No, it could not!” Chan let loose a flurry of high-pitched giggles. “Have you ever seen a kangaroo? Those things are ripped! One kick or punch, and the koala’s out.” He mimed a powerful punch.

You tipped back the remainder of your beer before pointing the bottle at him. “Yes it could! Think about it - what do koalas do?” When he just blinked, you continued. “They climb! And what do koalas usually have?” Again, a blank stare. “Syphilis! So… think about it! All that little guy has to do is climb up the kangaroo, give him some germs, and boom! Kangaroo goes down.” You grin smugly. “There’s a reason they call syphilis the silent killer.” 

Chan fixed you with his signature Look™, the one you think of as “stern dom daddy” - thick eyebrows drawn, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, dark eyes scanning your face - and you felt your knees go weak. Then he blinded you with the full sunshiny force of his smile, eyes closing, dimples popping. 

“That is an absolutely insane argument, not to mention completely incorrect. I don’t even know where to start explaining why you’re wrong.” He paused. “No, actually, let’s start with the fact that it’s chlamydia, not syphilis, that koalas get, and go from there.” By the time he’d finished  and you’d finally conceded that a kangaroo would probably win, the two of you were nearly in tears from laughing.

His duality is whiplash-inducing. And always leaves you in ruins. 

So when your feelings overwhelm you, when you feel like you’re absolutely bursting at the seams with need, you do what you always do. Torture Minho. 

Your bff is used to you venting to him about your crippling inability to make a move. On anyone. Ever. Over the years, he’s weathered dozens of crushes that never went anywhere because while you’re definitely a total treasure, you lack the confidence to make any of your (usually horny) dreams come true. He’s come to expect the endless text messages you send. 

Except that now, “messages” might not be the right word for them. “Unhinged ravings” might be more accurate. 

Ughhhh he’s so damn fine Today he came home from the gym all sweaty and I nearly offered to give him a bath With my tongue. My TONGUE Minho!

Like he’s always done, Minho bears it all in stride with his usual unwavering compassion.

You’re a lunatic

He doesn’t even try to convince you to say something to Chan about your feelings anymore. Now he just waits for you to exhaust yourself and then he changes the subject. Usually by sending photos of his cats. 

It’s an odd friendship, but neither of you would trade it for anything. 

At the moment, you’re ignoring your pain by lying on your bed, in a tee and sweats, watching a movie on your laptop. You can hear your roommate rummaging around his room. Your apartment features a Jack and Jill bathroom, so it’s easy for you to hear what’s going on next door through the adjoining space.

“Channie, why are you pacing around?” you call out. 

Your phone buzzes. 

Trying to find my shirt  

“Are you seriously texting me from the next room?” Pausing your movie, you trudge through the bathroom. The door to Chan’s room is open so you don’t bother to knock, flopping down on his bed as he digs through his closet. He’s shirtless as usual, blond curls shaking with the force of his rummaging.

“Yeah, sorry, ‘m in a hurry and didn’t want to stop looking,” Chan admits sheepishly, throwing a grin over his shoulder at you. You ignore the fluttering in your stomach and get comfortable, resting your head on your arms.

“You could’ve just said it out loud. I can hear you all over this apartment.” It’s not a big space. Which only amplifies your angst, as it’s hard to escape from your desires when the source of it is just constantly right there. Sprawling out on the tiny couch in the living room. Making himself a midnight snack in the kitchen. Lounging on your bed while you sit at your desk, trying not to stare at his reflection on your screen. “What shirt are you looking for?” 

“My tiger tank.” 

You know the shirt he’s speaking of - his white tank top with an embroidered tiger’s head on the chest. It’s a favorite of yours, cut low enough on the sides and in the front to show off his biceps and pecs at the same time. The first time you’d seen Chan in it, Minho had accused you of being a vampire because you couldn’t stop talking about how much you wanted to nibble on his collarbones. 

“Ah! Found it!” Chan raises the shirt over his head victoriously before yanking it on. He takes a moment to inspect himself in his mirror and you wonder if he truly recognizes just how stunning he is. He catches your eye in the reflection. “What are you up to tonight? Wanna come out with me, ‘Lix, & ‘Bin? We’re gonna get some drinks.”

Sure, you’d love to hang out at the bar with Chan and his friends. They’re always a good time. Except when closing time arrives and once again you’re forced to bear witness to your roommate getting hit on by basically every woman in the bar. Not that you can blame them. But it’s especially awful on the nights when he leaves with someone else. You’d rather not deal with that tonight.

“Nah, I’m just gonna relax. But thanks.” 

“Come on,” he wheedles, plopping down on the bed, hard enough to make you bounce a little. “You haven’t been out with us in ages. Is it the guys? Did one of them say something stupid?” 

“They always say stupid shit. That’s all they ever say,” you crack, smiling when Chan laughs. “But no, it’s nothing like that. I’m just tired.” 

Chan doesn’t say anything, just looks at you for a moment. The silence makes you inexplicably nervous, and you fiddle with his comforter for want of something to do with your hands. But then he just nods. “‘Kay. But if you change your mind, we’ll be down at Back Door.” 

“Thanks.” 

Chan heads into the bathroom to play with his hair. You slip past him, back into your room, throwing yourself dramatically onto your bed and burying your face in a plush pillow. How much longer can you stand this? 

You grab your phone. 

I’m losing my mind

You can practically hear the sigh in Minho’s voice as you read his response. 

What did Chan do now?

He’s getting ready to go out with Felix and Changbin He looks so fucking good in those tight jeans

Minho doesn’t reply. He knows to just let you get it out of your system before responding.

My mouth is literally watering It’s a Pavlovian response at this point I see denim and I start salivating

A text alert pops up in the middle of your thirsty ranting. 

Hey do you mind if I borrow your eyeliner?

“Stop texting me when you’re 10 feet away!” you yell, laughing. Chan pops his head out of the bathroom and flashes you that grin, the one that turns your insides to goo, and you sigh. “Of course you can borrow it, you know you can.” 

Thanks

“Chan!” 

His giggles float through the door and your thumbs fly.

Seriously If Chan doesn’t let me s his d one of these days I will die I will be the first person to die from ineedtosuckadick-itis

There’s a loud clattering in the bathroom, like someone’s knocked half the contents of the crowded sink counter onto the floor. Your makeup isn't cheap, so you hop up off your bed. 

“You okay in there?” The first thing you notice is the pile of smashed cosmetics on the ground. The second thing is the way your roommate is staring at you, eyes wide, sharpened kohl liner still clutched in one hand, phone in the other. “What? What’s wrong?” 

Chan doesn’t speak, but raises his phone and kind of waves it limply. 

Oh god. You were in the wrong chat. You were in the wrong chat and now Chan knows you want to suck his dick. You’ve been texting for most of your life and this is the moment your brain decides to fuck up?!

As Chan continues to stare, you realize you have two choices: fess up and own it, or play dumb.

It’s no choice.

“What, uhhhhhhh, what’s up?” 

Chan gestures to his phone. “You want to suck my dick?” He says the words as if they’re unfamiliar to him, like he’s trying them out for the first time. 

Well, shit, how are you supposed to play dumb if he’s just going to call you right out? 

“Guess the cat’s out of the horny bag now,” you mutter under your breath.

Chan cocks his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” you cough, looking at your own phone. “I mean, uh, noooo, what? Minho and I were just, um, talking about how I want to, uh, sssssss…” you glance wildly around the cramped room, hissing like a frantic snake as you fail to come up with another word that starts with s, before your eyes land on an empty glass sitting by the sink. “…Share a drink with you? Because I’m… thirsty?”

“You’re thirsty?”

Fucking understatement.

You can’t quite read the expression on Chan’s face as he glances between you and his phone. There’s a flash of dom daddy in there and then it’s gone. 

“YN. I know what ‘s his d’ means. Also, you said you had - what did you call it? Ineedtosuckadickitis.” You think Chan’s lips quirk slightly as he reminds you of your textual idiocy, but you’re too busy trying to psychically rip a hole in the floor so you can disappear forever to be certain. “Where do you get your medical info, by the way? I’m starting to worry.” 

He’s making light of the situation, which you would appreciate more if you weren’t sure you’re about to die from embarrassment. Your mind is reeling. There’s no way to get out of this. Any second now, he’s gonna realize how you feel. Then he’s gonna let you down. Gently, you hope. Then you’re gonna need to find a new place to live, because there’s no recovering from this.

“Fine.” You take a deep breath. “Yes, I said it.” Unable to look him in the eye, you focus on your phone as you speak. “I was telling Minho how much I want to suck your dick, because I’m a disgusting horny monster who can’t stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go pack up my room now.” Shoulders slumping, you slink away, hoping he won’t follow. 

He does. “Wait, what?” 

You don’t answer, heading directly for your closet, tugging at your suitcase where it lies on a shelf, and he crowds into your space, arms reaching out to stop you. 

“Oi, slow down! What are you doing?” 

“I’ll try to be out quickly, so you can find a new roommate right away.” You keep pulling on the suitcase, but it’s futile. He barely has to exert any strength to push it back, so you give up. 

“YN.” Chan places his hands on your shoulders, turning you around. It’s probably the closest you’ve ever been, standing face to face like this, and the nearness of him is a little dizzying. “Back up. You don’t have to go anywhere. Just talk to me.” He lightly guides you over to your bed, taking a seat next to you. “Why do you think I’d want you to leave?” 

“Because I'm a gross little gremlin who can’t stop objectifying you?” you answer honestly. 

Chan’s eyes widen before he bursts into laughter. “You know, you’ve said a lot of bonkers things in the months you’ve been living here, but… how does wanting to suck my dick make you a ‘gross little gremlin?’” 

Oh no. You can feel it bubbling up inside you, all the things you’ve felt. All the things you’ve said. Oh, you’re going to tell him, aren’t you? 

“It’s not just sucking your dick.” Grabbing your phone, you open your chat with Minho again, and begin to read. “‘I need Chan to destroy me. Fully. Like I’m a piece of wood and he’s a lumberjack. Just split me in half. With his hands or his dick, I’m not picky.’” Your entire body radiates with humiliation. You’re a tiny sun made of molecules of mortification, on the verge of going supernova. “Um. That’s one example. And there’s more. A lot more.” 

And then you hand him your phone, looking away as he starts to scroll. 

You stare at the wall, not wanting to see the expression on his face. Until the quiet gets to you, and you give in, peering at him, expecting to find him frozen again, or worse, looking sickened by your words. 

Instead you find him smiling. And then he starts to giggle. 

“‘I’m going feral,” he reads. “‘He’s wearing that beanie again. I- ’” His laughing gets louder as he struggles to finish the thought. “‘I want him to wear me instead.’” He glances up at you, eyes glimmering with way too much amusement. “What does that even mean?!”

You groan, yanking your shirt up to cover your face. “Chan, stop!” He merely laughs harder. How can he be enjoying this? You’ve never known him to be cruel. “I get it, I’m awful, you don’t have to laugh!”

But he keeps chuckling, and then you feel his hands on your hips. Like a bewildered turtle, you poke your head out of your shirt, and he just smiles. 

“C’mere.” He keeps tugging at you until you scoot closer, swinging your legs over his lap, and pulls you in for a hug. 

It’s better than you ever imagined. His strong arms lock around your waist, keeping you in place as his chest continues to rumble with his apparently endless mirth. Tentatively, you let your hands rest on his broad shoulders, afraid that if you cling too tightly, he’ll let go. 

Chan leans back to grin at you. “You’re so fucking cute.” 

You’re so fucking confused. “I am?” 

“Yeah.” His fingers rub light circles into your lower back. The sensation is somehow both soothing and invigorating, sending sparks directly to the heat already simmering in your gut. “Just adorable.” 

You’re not adorable, you’re a dirty little freak whose mind is constantly churning out trash, but if that’s what he wants to believe, you’ll take it.  

“You’re not disturbed by all the things I’ve said?” 

“Disturbed? Nah. I’m used to the crazy shit you say.” He’s got a point. You do say a lot of crazy shit. Just not usually about him to him. “Besides, d’you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say something?” 

“About your dick??”

Chan tosses his head back, jostling you with his laughter. “No, you maniac, just something in general! Something to tell me that you like me.” When he meets your gaze again, you’re met with that Look™, and this time those sparks head straight for your cunt. “That you want me. Because…” 

He trails off, hands gripping your sides, shifting you. Until you feel it. Poking directly into your thigh. 

“Oh!”

“Yeah. Oh.” Chan licks his lips. When did his eyes get so dark? “Because I want you too, you absolute fruit loop. Took me a minute to get my bearings, wasn’t expecting you to confess it in a text like that, or with those exact words, but…” He smirks. “I’m good now.” 

His thumb traces your jawline before he cups your chin. The gentle touch sends shivers rippling through you. His eyes drop to your lips. 

“You good?” 

Funnily enough, somehow, you are. 

“Yeah. I’m good,” you whisper, tipping forward to close the space between you. 

Amazingly, despite the unyielding need to just yeet yourself onto him, you manage to hold back, simply leaning in to the kiss instead. Those plush lips that you’ve raved about feel unbelievable as they caress yours. So soft and tender, like the warmth spreading through you as he tightens his hold. Then he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, and you moan, loud and wanton, unable to control the sound, and he drops his hands to your hips again, gripping insistently. 

“C’mere,” he commands again, voice husky as his fingers hook into your sweats. “Come closer.” He exhales heavily. “Please.” 

Please? He has no idea how little he needs to beg right now. As if you’re not dying to get as close as you can! In the blink of an eye, you throw your leg over his, straddling him. His hands wrap around you again, like he can’t stand not having them on you for a second. You understand the feeling. 

You’re bolder now with your kisses, nipping and licking eagerly. A particularly sharp bite on his pouty lip makes him gasp in surprise, and you press your tongue into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut in sheer ecstasy when he sucks in response. The incessant throbbing of your clit is slightly relieved when Chan’s hips buck upwards, pushing his erection against you more firmly. He swallows your whines, breathes them back out in the form of his own groans.

The need for air eventually overwhelms you after a few minutes, and you begrudgingly tear yourself away from his face. 

“Aren’t you going to be late?” you pant, marveling at how red and swollen Chan’s lips are from kissing. The urge to dive back in before you’ve gotten enough oxygen into your system to keep from passing out is strong. “To meet the guys?”

“You really think I’m gonna leave now?” Chan huffs a laugh as he gazes at you from beneath lowered eyelids, looking as dazed as you feel, and you realize, shit, Minho’s right, you are a vampire, and you’re about to eat this man alive. “Fuck no. Besides, what kind of terrible roommate would I be if I left you at death’s door?” 

“If you - what?” 

More high-pitched giggles fill the room. How can he be so cute while actively grinding his cock against you like this? “Your disease. Remember? Ineedadickitis.” 

“I need to suck a dick,” you correct him.

“Oh, do you? Well, go on then.” He cracks up completely, bouncing you with the force of his laughter as you sit there dumbly for half a second before snapping to. 

“You’re so stupid, oh my god!” With a howl, you push him away. He goes easily, until he’s lying on his back on your bed, still cackling while he swats away your fake punches. “I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” His fingers lock around your wrists and with a gentle jerk you’re lying on top of him, your arms pinned between you. Before you can try to pretend that he’s wrong, try to mount yet another one of your dumb arguments, despite knowing full well that he's right, he kisses you again. 

As soon as he releases your hands, you tangle them in his hair. His hands trace down your back to grab the swell of your ass, crushing you flat against him, chest to chest. He suddenly breaks off the kiss.

“Are you not wearing a bra?” 

You shake your head and he groans, sitting up, taking you with him. His fingers curl in the hem of your top, twisting it upwards.

“Shirt off. Now.” His voice drops an octave and you shudder, quickly obeying his order. Then you grip his tank top.

“You too.” 

He reaches behind his head to peel the fabric off, tossing it on the floor. Then he lays back, propping himself up on his elbows as you openly gawk at his stomach. 

“Fuck.” He’s transfixed by your chest. 

“Jesus.” You’re mesmerized. From this close, you can see a faint trail of fine hair that runs down, cutting through the carved lines of his abs, like an arrow pointing to your desired destination. “Unreal.” 

“You can touch, if you’d like,” Chan grins up at you, obviously enjoying your reaction. 

You roll your eyes but do anyway, dragging your fingertips over his abs. His stomach twitches beneath your touch. Before you can get too far, he wiggles his hips, playfully jostling you out of your concentration.

“Can I touch, too?” 

“Jesus, yes, of course!” Grabbing his hands, you place one on each breast. “Touch me already!” 

He doesn’t waste any time, rolling your nipples between his fingers, waking the buds. You arch into him, his abs forgotten as he leans forward to take your left breast in his mouth. 

“Shit, Channie,” you whimper, combing his hair out of his face so you can watch him suckle away. He hums into you, swirling his tongue over your nipple, around and around, before dragging his tongue across to the other breast. 

“You like that, baby?” he asks, covering your chest with kisses. 

Baby? Did he really just call you baby? Is this really happening, or did you slip into one of your daydreams again? 

Nope, the hard dick rolling into the apex of your thighs as you grind down on him feels pretty real. You can’t help but moan, wondering what he looks like under those tight jeans. Is he as thick as you imagine? 

Wait, why are you still trying to imagine anything? He’s literally underneath you right now.

Your hand splays on his torso as you guide him onto his back again. Slowly, you lower yourself over him, and drag your mouth down his neck. Clearly, you’d interrupted his going out routine earlier, because he’s not wearing his normal cologne right now. Instead, the heady scent you inhale as you stick your nose into the hollow of his clavicles is pure Chan, musky and comforting. 

“Ah, that tickles!” he hisses. 

“Sorry.” You press a heavy kiss to his collarbone. “Is that better?” He nods, right before you sink your teeth in.

“Nnngh!” He lets out a throaty groan as you happily suck a love bite into his delicate skin. God, the noises this man makes! You want to record them and play them on a loop. 

You slip further down, dragging your fingernails over one of Chan’s nipples, watching his face for his reaction. A tiny “oh!” escapes him, and you repeat the motion, grinning when his back lifts off the bed. Sensitive. This is going to be fun. 

Chan raises his head when you start to kiss his abs, taking the time to lick along the ridges as you go, the salty tang of his sweat lingering on your lips. When your hands play with the skin above his waistband, he clears his throat. “You know, you don’t have to do this, just because of that text.” 

“Are you kidding me?” You pause with your fingers on the button of his fly. “You want me to stop now?” 

“I just don’t want you to think I expect anything.” Although his voice is a little shaky, like he’s trying to calm himself down, you hear the sincerity in his words. The sweetness. That warmth inside you roars into a flame. 

“Channie. I want this. Do you want this?” 

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Thank god,” you sigh, unzipping his fly.  He helps you peel off his tight jeans and you make quick work of his silk boxers beneath. Nudging his legs apart, you kneel between them 

For a moment just you stare at the sight in front of you. You were right. He’s thick. Maybe a little longer than most of the dicks you’ve been happy to be acquainted with, maybe not, but definitely thicker. 

You want to sit on him so bad. But first you want to please him, want to taste him. So much want. 

While you’re dicknotized, Chan stuffs your pillows under his head so he can have a better angle. You glance at his face and find him biting his lip, eyes looking a little desperate. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you. 

Might as well put him out of his misery. With a lick of your palm, you wrap your hand around him, and pump a few shallow strokes. He grunts at the sudden slickness, abdomen jumping slightly. 

“Ah, baby, just like that,” he says, eyes closing when you roll your thumb over the tip a few times. “Shit.” 

Your tongue darts out to follow, dipping around the head and back over, before you take it into your mouth. Just the tip, bobbing off, then a little more, then again. Each time you sink lower, he sighs. 

“Fuck, that feels so good. Keep going, take it all in.” 

Oh god, is he a talker? You’re already impossibly wet. You can’t possibly handle getting any more aroused. 

While your mouth is occupied, you lift your leg so you’re straddling one of Chan’s, resting a palm on his big thigh. You have obsessed over his thighs since the day you moved in. You refer to them as “the thunder from down under” in your texts to Minho. And here they are now, so strong and sturdy beneath you. Wild. 

Chan hisses when you deepthroat him, brushing your nose against his pelvis. Even though you pride yourself on your dick-sucking skills, you can’t help but choke slightly. More saliva floods into your mouth, and you swallow around him. 

“Oh, shit!” His hips rise up a little. You use both hands, one trying to hold him down by his hip while the other strokes in tandem with your mouth. There’s drool everywhere, and the sounds the wetness makes sounds lewd even for porn. “Baby, this mouth of yours! Feels better than I ever imagined.”

Air rushes into your lungs as you pull off, replacing your mouth with your other hand. “You thought about this?” He fantasized about you, too?

“Oh fuck yeah,” he growls. “All the time. Thought those pretty lips would look so good choking on me, and I was right.” He thrusts a little, rocking his dick up into your slippery grip. “Used to dream about fucking it.”

You moan so brokenly, he looks at you in concern. 

“Please,” you lick his darkened head almost frantically, “do it.” 

Chan studies you for a moment, brows knitting together, before he pushes your head down. 

“That’s it, go down for me,” he directs you, and you listen. “Just stay there. Let me do the work now.” 

He starts slowly, tilting his pelvis a little, fucking up into your waiting mouth. Then he cants his hips a little faster. His breathing gets heavier the harder he thrusts. Once he finds a steady rhythm, he lays his hand on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wants you. 

You squirm restlessly as Chan fucks your throat. Having your roommate use your mouth as a sex toy is incredibly hot. Finally, you slide your hand into your sweats to give yourself some relief. Your clit is engorged, practically beating like a heart between your fingers. You let out a pleased moan, vibrating down Chan’s cock. 

“Do that again, baby.” 

You’re not denying this man anything. Again and again, you make him curse as your hums resonate across his sensitive skin. He trembles a little, and it’s intoxicating to think that you might be breaking down this big, strong roommate of yours, reducing him to a quivering mess.

At the very least, it’s something to aim for. 

Chan praises you again. “God damn it, that’s good. Gonna make me cum with that pretty mouth.” 

You suck and swallow and moan and rub yourself, feeling Chan’s thigh flex beneath you, and it hits you what he said, that you’re about to get Chan off, you, so you reach out, raking your hand up the inside of his thigh until you find his balls, squeezing gently.

“I’m gonna cum, shit, ’m gonna cum,” he moans, words slurring together. “Where, baby?” 

You stop touching yourself so you can grip the hand of his that rests on your head. He gets the point, pace not slowing, and with a few more powerful pumps, and some stuttered exhalations, he fills your mouth. You take it all, swallowing noisily and gasping for breath once he pulls out. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

He laughs as he says it. Your shoulders shake as you half-laugh, half-wheeze, slumping over on Chan’s thigh.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Fuck yeah,” he grins. “And I’m guessing from the sounds you were making, you enjoyed that as well? Just maybe not quite as much as me?”

You shrug. “I got what I wanted.”  

“Yeah, okay, maybe, but I bet you’d like more, hmm?” Without waiting for a response, he swiftly flips you onto your back. Just hauls you right over like you’re made of feathers. A rash of ridiculously giddy giggles burst past your lips, but they die away when he crawls up your body, the power of his gaze pinning you in place, and drops hungry lips onto yours.

Immediately, you surge up into him, pressing as close as you can. Both of you are glistening with sweat, his hair sticking to his face and yours as he licks into your mouth, hot and wet. You’re drowning in him. It’s everything you ever wanted. How the fuck can you possibly want more? But you do, and this feeling makes itself known as you start to whimper needily.

Chan’s hand quickly locates your breast, tenderly cupping your flesh. “Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are? So pretty.”

You preen at his words, humming contentedly. Fuck. Do you have a praise kink, or is it just that Chan’s the one saying these words that is getting you more worked up? You roll your hips, seeking friction, and Chan’s hand slides downward until he reaches where you need him.

“Oh, baby, so wet,” he says, voice hushed, almost reverent. “Just dying to be touched, yeah? Let me help you.”

With sure movements, lithe fingers stroke along your lips, opening you up. Fingertips squeeze your clit, playing with the aching pearl, causing you to squeal, and you could die, having made such a sound, except you’ve clearly already died and gone to heaven.

Even as his hand rubs, his lips never leave yours. You thrash in his grip when he slides a finger inside you, finding your g-spot with surprising quickness and pressing the fuck out of it, and he still chases your mouth, covering your chin in kisses. Your legs kick out as he alternates between fondling your clit and stroking your walls, until he suddenly stops, pulling his fingers out so he can rid you of your sweats. 

“You still with me?” he asks, kneeling between your legs, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, sucking in air like a fish. You must be a mess, if your appearance matches how you feel. But you’re also excruciatingly aroused and frustrated, so close to coming that you’re ready to blow.

“Yes. I’m here, I’m good.” 

“Good.” The Look™️ is back. He grabs your legs and bends them, pushing your thighs into your torso. “Here. Be a good girl and hold these.”

Yes, daddy. You bite your tongue to keep from screaming the words, and grasp your legs behind your knees, pulling them to the side as much as you can, opening you up wide.

“Yes, Channie.”

He smiles at that, eyes so dark you can almost see yourself. “So good for me. Hold tight, baby.” 

He sticks out his tongue, eyebrows cocking as he dives down, tracing your folds lightly before flattening the pink muscle and dragging it heavily upwards. You keen as his hot mouth suctions onto your clit. He rolls your clit around with his tongue before flicking it in a quick motion, over and over. 

“Jesus!” You’re a live wire, muscles jolting and twitching. As he continues working over the tiny bundle of nerves, his fingers slip inside you again, two this time, scissoring you apart, making room for his tongue. 

You gasp as he plunges inside, tracing your inner walls. He’s so loud, the noises his mouth makes as he sucks and laps, and messy, too, slick dripping from his chin when he lifts his face, making sure you’re watching him. Of fucking course you’re watching him. There’s literally nothing else in the world you’d rather be looking at right now than Bang Chan, the hottest man in the galaxy, devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal. 

“Tastes so good,” he rasps, turning his face to press sloppy kisses to your inner thigh. “Think you can hold out a little longer? Let me enjoy, yeah?” 

At this point, you’re a fucking tinderbox, one spark and you’ll explode, but sure, why not let the man enjoy himself a little more? 

“O-okay,” you stutter weakly. “I’ll… try.” You bite your lip. “But maybe…” 

Chan brushes his lips over your slit. With a shaky hand, you let your left leg go so you can reach out, brushing some damp locks off his forehead, and he looks at you. 

“Maybe a little slower?” you ask. 

He smiles, nodding a little. “Got ya.” 

Instead of pulling your hand back, you thread your fingers into his hair, and he hums, burying his face again. Only now, his tongue rolls slowly over your cunt, languidly, each pass taking longer and longer. He still keeps the pressure up, makes sure he’s pushing just as firmly against your sensitive folds, still fucks his tongue into you just as deeply as he was before, but now his movements aren’t so frenzied. They feel purposeful, like he’s intent on savoring the moment. 

And you realize you should, too. So you barely blink as you observe everything he does - every kiss, every groan, every time his eyes close. You try to commit it all to memory, so you can relive this moment over and over again. In case this is it.

Chan keeps humming, not so much a melody as just wordless sounds, getting louder when your thighs start to squeeze a little. Your hand grips the roots of his hair, not so much guiding him as hanging on. Until he takes your clit in his mouth again, and you cry out, holding him in place. 

“Right there, Channie, please!” Your voice breaks as you beg him not to stop. He doesn’t let up, not even when you release your death grip on your right leg, letting it fall over his shoulder like the other one. You dig your fingers into the blanket beneath you, fisting the material. “Fuck, just like that!” 

Your hips rise off the bed as you start to hump his face, grinding harder and harder. Chan slides his fingers back into your already clenching hole and finds your g-spot again. You wail helplessly, mind already going, body not far behind, as your muscles start to contract, everything tightening - 

“Fuuuuck!” 

With a loud groan, you come all over Chan’s face. He keeps tonguing your clit through your orgasm, but has to use his hands to hold your thighs open so he doesn’t asphyxiate. You tug at his hair, riding out the waves of bliss on his mouth. 

When you finally relinquish your grasp on his head, he stops. He slides your legs from his arms, then sits back on his heels to examine his handiwork.

You’re a limp noodle. No bones. No muscles. Couldn’t move if you tried. Your climax completely wiped you out, leaving nothing behind. But you’re a very happy noodle, practically purring as you smile at the ceiling. 

Chan, on the other hand. Chan appears to be ready for the next round. A point made obvious by the massive erection he’s again sporting. You blink at him a few times. 

“I’m going to need a minute.”

He laughs, draping himself over you, arm slung over your stomach, head on your shoulder. “Nah mate, you’re done.” 

A rather petulant whine bubbles up from deep within you. “Nooo, I’m good, I’m good!” 

You try to reach for his dick, but he catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. Which is a surprisingly sweet move, but not what you want right now. It’s not that you don’t want to cuddle with him - if he asked, you’d wrap yourself like a blanket around him and snuggle him for hours.

It’s that you’re not ready for this moment to be over. 

“Relax,” he laughs. “Plenty of time for that later. Just rest for a bit.” 

“Later?" There’s gonna be a later?

Chan kisses your neck lightly. “Yeah, later. Not done with you yet, baby.” 

You sigh, bringing a hand up to stroke his back. Okay. Maybe a little nap is fine. If there’s going to be a later. 

Fuck, you can’t wait to text Minho. 

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2023 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

I don't feel right tagging my usual tl since that was for my BTS writing, so I'm just gonna tag some moots that I think might like this:

@moni-logues @yoongimingyu @borahae-k @nabiolive @jikooknoona @sowoozoo-7 @eoieopda @here4btsfics @candlewaxandp0lar0ids @ballelino @starlostjimin @augustbutwinter @blueversaillesdreams @hobivore @hobi-gif @seokjinger-ale @hannahbee12719 feel free to tell me if I'm way off base, no pressure to actually read! 💕

[matchalovertrait]

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Sims of 2024! ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Thank you for the tag @ruthplaysthesims and for creating this fun tag game :)

First sim you made in 2024

Corn from my lookbook inspired by Jet Set Radio Future. I did not name him that 😅 He's from my favorite video game of all time. I believe he got his name because his tall hood/hat is kind of corn-shaped.

Last/most recent sim you made in 2024

Matteo Peralta made for Total Drama Sims: Season 3. I love him!!! I want to scold yet protect him at the same time, lol. I'm like nine years older than him but I see him as my son.

Best sim you made in 2024

Antonio Romero from my Alegría Legacy. I'm still not sure how I was able to create him? Both looks and personality-wise.

Worst sim you made in 2024

This mf Leslie Caruso from my Alegria Legacy. Such a pain in the neck omg, I was suffering in silence 😭 I'm glad he moved out now. Good riddance!!!

Sims you made for fun

Gojo and Geto because I don't know how to watch a show casually 😅 I need to be obsessed with it, apparently.

Sims you made for a challenge

My clowns I made for The Freak Show CAS Challenge. Classic, Pierrot, and Mime clowns. I still need to finish the rest! I like clowns a lot, hehe.

Sims you made that never left CAS in 2024

Blanca Milagros, based on Snow White. I forgot how cute I made her omg. Before I started the Lizaxi Legacy, I considered starting a silly alternative-version Disney Legacy of my own. For example, in Generation 2 with Cinderella, she would have gone to Warped Tour instead of a royal ball. I dropped all of it obviously, lol.

Mutuals sims you made in your style

@changingplumbob's Devin Villareal, @deardiaryts4's Taryn Fitzgerald, @ruthplaysthesims's Raina Almeida, @abbysimsfun's Heather Nesbitt, @authorspirit's Celina McArthur, @living-undead's Zaria Dimmer, @smulie's Stevie Blackwell, @dreamyyesenia's Aileen Blackburn I tried my best to recreate them but I heavily missed the mark with some of them 😭 *cough* Devin and Stevie *cough* thoseareNOTdevinandstevie!!impostors!! But yeah, I tried to get as close as possible 😅 I wanted to show my love for these beautiful sims.

I tag everyone reading this!!

[notnotstarving]

What the Survivors Think of Wes

I saw somebody make one of these with Maxwell, and they stopped it at that. So I've decided to continue the saga of analyzing the survivors relationships with one another, trying my best to remain objective and not let my bias seep in. And then maybe I'll make a chart once I'm done with this series, for those who don't wanna read allat. I'm starting off with Wes because it will help give context to another interpretive essay I'll be doing.

You are welcome to add more quotes/other context I missed, as well as reply with your own interpretation, in fact I encourage it!! I love nothing more than a good discussion.

Wilson

Generic- "Greetings, %s!"

Attacker- "%s is silent, but deadly..."

Murderer- "Mime this!"

Reviver- "%s thinks outside the invisible box."

Ghost- "How do you say "I'll get a revival device" in mime?"

Firestarter- "Wait, don't tell me. You lit a fire."

Wilson doesn't actually have much to say about Wes, if anything Wilson seems slightly peeved by him, but he's mostly neutral towards Wes. He actually seems more interested in his balloonomancy than Wes himself, but not by much:

Pile o' Balloons- "It looks like clown currency."

Balloon- "How are they floating?"

Speedy Balloon- "The hole in the center makes it more aerodynamic, that's just physics!"

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "Now it's just another balloon."

Party Balloon- "How did he get the smaller balloons inside?"

Inflatable Vest- "If the bright colors don't attract some horrible creature, the squeaking will."

Balloon Hat- "The static does terrible things to my hair."

As curious as Wilson is about how the balloons work, I don't think he actually likes them and views them as annoying given how they mess up his hair (what a diva) and potentially attract "horrible creatures". In this animated short he also gives Wes quite the glare when he pops one, so I don't think he's a big fan of the balloons despite his mild curiosity.

There's also this quote:

Second-hand Dentures- "They've quickly become Wes' favorite prop."

I'm not sure of the tone it's supposed to be read in, but given the lack of enthusiasm for Wes's clown acts that Wilson has shown, I'd have to guess he's making a snarky remark on how unamusing Wes' use of props are.

Wilson's opinion is mostly neutral. Although he is not entertained by Wes' clown antics, and may even view his mime act as impractical given their circumstances, he doesn't seem to harbor hostility towards Wes in spite of this.

Willow

Generic- "Hi %s!"

Attacker- "That mime punch was really convincing! Haha, ow!"

Murderer- "Your actions speak louder than words! Murderer!"

Reviver- "Who do ghosts call? %s!"

Ghost- "Just tell me whatcha need and I'll get it for you. Heheh!"

Firestarter- "Make it BURN!"

Willow has a very positive view on Wes. She gives him the benefit of the doubt when he attacks her, thinking he's just playing around and wouldn't actually hurt her, which implies she truly believes Wes doesn't have a mean bone in his body (she's right).

Pile o' Balloons- "I could fill them with flammable gas."

Balloon- "That's just asking to be popped."

Speedy Balloon- "Thanks! I'll be able to set fires twice as fast with this thing!"

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "No flying away!"

Party Balloon- "Hey, when are you gonna make a hot air balloon? I could help!"

Inflatable Vest- "Squeak-squeak-squeak! Ha ha where's Maxwell, this'll drive him crazy!"

Balloon Hat- "Hey, a rabbit! Not bad!"

In contrast to Wilson, she's actually a pretty big fan of the balloons. Also unlike others in this list, rather than simply examining the balloons, it's actually implied she's speaking directly TO Wes rather than just about him. At least the speedy, party, and hat ones imply this.

Cannon (Nothing to upload)- "Darn it, I'm out... hey Wes, you always wanted to try being a human cannonball right?"

Empty Elixir- "Hey Wes! Dare you to drink the last bit!"

Beaten Beater- "When I crank it Wes pretends to ride unicycle circles around me."

She also has a whopping THREE bonus quotes mentioning Wes, this is more than anyone else has. All three suggest they have a very playful relationship, which of course is in tune with both their natures. Although Willow may mean the cannon one literally, which suggests she wants to maim him, this is normal for her and does not imply hostility.

Overall Willow seems to get along with him great and trusts him a good deal.

Wolfgang

Generic- "Is tiny oddman, %s! Hello!"

Attacker- "Wolfgang does not trust your rosy cheeks, %s."

Murderer- "Ah! Is killer clown! %s!"

Reviver- "%s is nice, weird little man."

Ghost- "Wolfgang will go get heart for odd clownman!"

Firestarter- "You are looking very guilty, clownman."

Lmao Wolfgang thinks he's weird, straight up calls him weird and odd. Despite that he does get along with Wes.

He also thinks the balloons are fun and wants to share the experience with the others:

Pile o' Balloons- "Wolfgang will make balloon muscles."

Balloon- "Is full of clown breath!"

Speedy Balloon- "Clownman has mighty lungs to make balloon so big!"

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "Balloon has gotten scrawny and weak!"

Party Balloon- "Come, friends! Is party!"

Inflatable Vest- "Wolfgang will try not to pop little vest with his mighty muscles."

Balloon Hat- "Haha! Tiny clownman make funny rabbit hat!"

Bonus Quote:

Wire Hanger- "Is skinny and bendy, like clownman Wes."

Wolfgang probably means bendy as a compliment considering the context that Wolfgang is from a circus group.

Wolfgang has a positive opinion on Wes. Despite thinking Wes is strange, he does not let that hinder his friendship with Wes and treats him the same as the other survivors.

Wendy

Generic- "How do you do, %s?"

Attacker- "There's something you're not telling us..."

Murderer- "%s, this is the end... for you!"

Reviver- "Abigail says she understands you, %s."

Ghost- "You won't leave us if I get you a heart, right?"

Firestarter- "There are other ways to express yourself, %s."

Wendy is overall neutral, but Abigail seems to understand him somehow, which probably gets him points in Wendy's favor. She does seem sad when he's dead and doesn't want him to leave her, so she does care for him.

Pile o' Balloons- "These look as deflated as I feel..."

Balloon- "A colorful reminder that my childhood is no more."

Speedy Balloon- "Will it make me swift enough to outrun my problems?"

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "Sail far away from here, little balloon."

Party Balloon- "What is the point of celebrating in a place such as this?"

Inflatable Vest- "Why try to prolong the inevitable?"

Balloon Hat- "Can he make one for Abigail?"

She's emo as usual when inspecting the balloons, but I think she gets joy out of it and won't admit it. She wants Abigail to have a balloon hat after all so she must like them to some extent.

Wendy seems neutral towards him on the surface, but she does like him given that he makes her, or at least Abby, happy.

WX-78

Generic- "DETECTING... %s!"

Attacker- "ENOUGH CLOWNING AROUND, %s"

Murderer- "YOUR INVISIBLE MATTER SHIELD CANNOT STOP ME, %s"

Reviver- "THE QUIET FLESHLING %s MAY BE WORTH KEEPING AROUND"

Ghost- "I DON'T THINK THE FLESHLING IS SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE THAT"

Firestarter- "%s WILL DESTROY ALL FLESHLINGS WITH FIRE"

Yeah typical Wx. They don't like him, but not for any fault on Wes' part, it's simply because he's a fleshling.

Pile o' Balloons- "USELESS RUBBER SACKS"

Balloon- "WX-78 CANNOT BE FOOLED. THESE ANIMALS ARE NOT REAL"

Speedy Balloon- "IT DEFIES ALL LOGIC"

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "I DON'T TRUST IT"

Party Balloon- "I WILL POP IT. NO. THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT HE WANTS..."

Inflatable Vest- "THIS ONE MIGHT NOT BE ENTIRELY WORTHLESS"

Balloon Hat- "IT SERVES NO PURPOSE OTHER THAN BEING UGLY"

Not a fan of the balloons either, they think they're useless. The party balloon implies they have no problem popping Wes' balloons and probably do it regularly, but refrain from doing so with the party balloons because they know Wes purposed them to be popped and would be pleased, which Wx doesn't want.

In short, WX doesn't like him, but that's also WX's default, so maybe they're neutral?

Wickerbottom

Generic- "Ah, the mime lad. Greetings, dear %s!"

Attacker- "His body language says everything."

Murderer- "They'll tell tales of your defeat, %s!"

Reviver- "You're a fine young man, %s."

Ghost- "Poor dear. %s needs a heart to anchor him to this plane."

Firestarter- "Don't cry to me when you burn yourself, dear."

Nothing too notable, Ms Wickerbottom is a polite woman and remains so with Wes.

Pile o' Balloons- "These seem frivolous."

Balloon- "Could serve as a suitable diversion."

Speedy Balloon- "The chemical composition of the young man's breath must be fascinating."

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "Probably not enough air left to analyze its composition..."

Party Balloon- "A reasonable amount of cheer every so often would do us good."

Inflatable Vest- "I applaud your attempt at practicality, dear."

Balloon Hat- "I believe it's meant to evoke the image of a Lagomorph."

She thinks the balloons are frivolous, but she can also appreciate that Wes is spreading cheer.

Wickerbottom is neutral towards Wes, however she does value Wes and how he can boost morale even if she herself is not a big fan of his act.

Woodie

Generic- "%s! How ya doin', buddy?"

Attacker- "%s could learn some manners..."

Murderer- "You're MIME now, %s!"

Reviver- "%s, you're an alright guy."

Ghost- "First we'll get you a heart, then we'll get you some bacon, eh %s?"

Firestarter- "Keep those flames away from my trees!"

I know it looks like they're buddies, but this is just Woodie being Canadian, he calls everyone buddy and is a polite guy. He does seem to coddle him though, wanting to get him bacon after he's back from the dead.

Pile o' Balloons- "Are those balloons?"

Balloon- "It's squeaky. Just like a real woodland creature."

Speedy Balloon- "Now how do you figure that works, Luce?"

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "Just a regular balloon now, eh?"

Party Balloon- "Uh oh, I didn't forget someone's birthday did I?"

Inflatable Vest- "It beats drowning, I guess..."

Balloon Hat- "We can all appreciate nature in our own way."

Indifferent towards the balloons, which makes me think he doesn't care too much for clowns, but I also don't think he dislikes them.

Woodie is neutral towards Wes but leans more on the friendly side. No comment on Lucy's part.

Maxwell

Generic- "Greetings, Mr. %s."

Attacker- "%s is giving me the creeps..."

Murderer- "Murderous fiend! You cannot escape!"

Reviver- "%s is an effective ally."

Ghost- "I could get you a heart, %s... for a price."

Firestarter- "Stop burning things, mime."

I don't know what to make of this honestly. Maxwell finds him creepy, but he's not resistant to calling him an ally. Buuut he also doesn't revive Wes, instead opting to ask for something in return. I'm inclined to say he is most likely just teasing Wes though, cuz he does tease a lot of the others when they die.

Pile o' Balloons- "Those look much too jovial for my liking."

Balloon- "This seems out of place here. Too cheery."

Speedy Balloon- "The mime's power unsettles me."

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "Its power is spent. Now it's just garishly cheery."

Party Balloon- "Oh no... he's managed to make them even more cheerful."

Inflatable Vest- "I think I'd rather drown."

Balloon Hat- "Would I really stoop so low as to wear such a thing?"

Doesn't like his balloons. (Interesting thing to note is that Wes seems to have some sort of "power" and it unsettles Maxwell.)

Maxwell is largely indifferent towards Wes, maybe slightly leaning towards dislike because Maxy's not a fan of the mime stuff or Wes' power.

Wigfrid

Generic- "Gööd health tö yöu, %s!"

Attacker- "Dö yöu bite yöur thumb at me, mime?"

Murderer- "May we meet again in Valhalla!"

Reviver- "%s has Höenir's blessing."

Ghost- "Meditate ön Höenir's blessings, %s. I'll find a heart."

Firestarter- "Dön't ruin yöur fair makeup with ashes, %s."

Only good things to say to Wes, she also likes his makeup. (If you're wondering, Hœnir is the god of silence, spirituality, poetry, and of passion. So she respects him enough to say he has a God's blessing, but this isn't out of the ordinary for Wigrid to say about her allies.)

Pile o' Balloons- "Such cölörs! I cöuld sing!"

Balloon- "Fie! Föul beast!"

Speedy Balloon- "Grant me the speed öf Hermöd!"

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "Its strange pöwer hath faded."

Party Balloon- "It hath swallöwed the wee önes whöle!"

Inflatable Vest- "Tis önly gööd för flöating, nöt fighting."

Balloon Hat- "A rubbery möckery öf life."

She has mixed feelings about Wes' craft. She loves the colors and the speedy balloon, but otherwise finds them useless.

Wigrid gets along with Wes, they're probably friends.

Webber

Generic- "Hey! Hi %s!"

Attacker- "Maybe we can talk this out?"

Murderer- "You're supposed to play nice!"

Reviver- "%s is super nice. And his makeup's cool!"

Ghost- "We'll help you get back on your feet, %s!"

Firestarter- "You were just supposed to mime lighting it!"

This dweeb thinks the mime is cool.

Pile o' Balloons- "Is there going to be a party?!"

Balloon- "Balloon animals! Balloon animals!!"

Speedy Balloon- "Circles must be the speediest shape."

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "We have to hold on tight or it'll fly away!"

Party Balloon- "Yay! It's a party!"

Inflatable Vest- "We should take it on our boat trips."

Balloon Hat- "It looks like a bunny!"

He loves the balloons, of course, he is a kiddo living in a nightmare world, the balloons probably give him some comfort.

Webber likes Wes. he thinks Wes is super nice and kinda cool.

Winona

Generic- "Don't worry %s, I can talk enough for two. Ha!"

Attacker- "Didn't know ya had it in ya, %s!"

Murderer- "Killer mime! I'll have nightmares tonight!"

Reviver- "Thanks for the assist, %s."

Ghost- "Let's getcha back on your feet, %s."

Firestarter- "You responsible for that fire there, %s?"

She doesn't mind that he doesn't speak and may even find him endearing. Judging by how she doesn't seem at all offended by him attacking her, she actually seems more proud than hurt, which is reminiscent of her big sister personality type.

Pile o' Balloons- "No fun without Wes."

Balloon- "Oh! A balloon."

Speedy Balloon- "It's full of get up and go!"

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "Better not leave that unattended."

Party Balloon- "We can celebrate once the work is done."

Inflatable Vest- "I think he's trying to be helpful... in his own way."

Balloon Hat- "Cute, but it won't protect your noggin' from much."

She thinks Wes is fun and encourages the use of his balloons (not without getting the work done first of course). Those last two quotes are vaguely patronizing, but in an older sister kinda way and not in a "I'm better than you" kind of way.

She likes him, they're friends, she treats him like a little brother almost.

Wortox

Generic- "%s, let's practice our routine!"

Attacker- "Those punches weren't part of the bit!"

Murderer- "Don't hurt me, %s!"

Reviver- "Thank-you, thank-you, funny friend!"

Ghost- "%s, did you get more delicious?"

Firestarter- "Ooohoohoo, what have you been up to?"

Wortox seems to be friends with Wes! They practice routines together, probably very frequently too because he thinks Wes is playing into one of their bits when he gets attacked by him.

Pile o' Balloons- "Stores one's breath for later spells."

Balloon- "I often feel like I might float away. Hyuyu!"

Speedy Balloon- "With this gift, I'll be more swift!"

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "Its magic is spent."

Party Balloon- "A party! Am I invited?"

Inflatable Vest- "A bright balloon vest to wear across my chest."

Balloon Hat- "I'm likely to get lightheaded from wearing it, hyuyuyu!"

Nothing too special to say about Wes' crafts but he seems to enjoy them.

Wortox and Wes are friends that seem to bond over their mutual interest for pranks and all things alike. This makes sense given that Wortox is a little jokester and it is literally Wes' livelihood to be one as well.

Wormwood

Generic- "%s is quiet friend"

Attacker- "Bad %s! Don't hurt!"

Murderer- "%s is silent dead maker"

Reviver- "%s is a good friend"

Ghost- "%s is a quiet floaty"

Firestarter- "Aggh! %s made too much fire!"

Pile o' Balloons- "Needs air"

Balloon- "Boop"

Speedy Balloon- "Run run run!"

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "Boop"

Party Balloon- "Fun!"

Inflatable Vest- "Safe?"

Balloon Hat- "Squee Hopper? Hm. No"

Wormwood is as neutral as they come. If this whole thing was a graph then Wormwood would be right smack dab in the middle. He has no bad things, but also nothing special, to say about Wes.

Warly

Generic- "Bonjour, %s!"

Attacker- "I didn't expect him to be the violent sort."

Murderer- "What a terrible act you've committed."

Reviver- "I love your act, by the way."

Ghost- "Is there a medic on this island?"

Firestarter- "Watch where you light those fires, %s."

Nothing too out of the ordinary, Warly does go out of his way to say he likes Wes' act though.

Pile o' Balloons- "It's been left completely breathless."

Balloon- "How colorful!"

Speedy Balloon- "What a kind gift!"

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "Quite an odd design. Then again, it was made by an odd fellow."

Party Balloon- "Ah! A celebration!"

Inflatable Vest- "I'm not sure how safe that is."

Balloon Hat- "It's... not exactly my style."

Here's another person that thinks Wes is weird, but he mostly has positive things to say about his balloons.

Warly is neutral. Based on the fact that Warly thinks he's weird, and that the most substantial thing he has to say about Wes is regarding his act, I don't think they interact much. Warly just sees him as the resident mime and nothing more. (Which honestly surprises me, I would've thought they'd at least bond over their mutual understanding of the French language.)

Wurt

Generic- "Hello clown man."

Attacker- "Glorph, go away!"

Murderer- "Scale-less bad, never shoulda left swamp!"

Reviver- "Oh... thanks, flort."

Ghost- "Look paler than usual, florp."

Firestarter- "You a strange man, flort."

I know it seems like she is neutral, but if you compare these quotes with how she speaks with the others, then you would be able to see that she likes him less than the others. She says "Hello." rather than "Hello!" The only other survivor she greets this way is WX, who she believes doesn't like her. I think she also believes that Wes does not like her and in turn she does not like him. because she seems surprised/confused when he revives her. She also calls him strange, and unlike Wolfgang, she means this negatively.

Pile o' Balloons- "Look chewy, florp."

Balloon- "Want one!!"

Speedy Balloon- "That a big one, flurp!"

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "Awww, got all small."

Party Balloon- "Huh? There stuff inside!"

Inflatable Vest- "Ooooh, water floaty!"

Balloon Hat- "Squeaky hat."

She likes the balloons tho. I mean, she is a kid after all.

Wurt finds Wes weird and does not appear to like/trust him. (My hypothesis is that she may find his silence and makeup creepy, cuz I can't figure out any other reason as to why she dislikes him.)

Walter

Generic- "Uh... hi %s."

Attacker- "This is why I don't trust clowns!"

Murderer- "%s is a killer clown!"

Reviver- "I guess some clowns are okay."

Ghost- "A Pinetree Pioneer leaves no one behind! Even if they're a clown!"

Firestarter- "That's not a proper campfire, %s!"

Walter spells it out for us very clearly: he does not trust Wes. He is scared of clowns, and therefore keeps his distance. Despite this, Walter is still a good kid who does not stray from his own code of ethics. Walter will happily revive Wes and still greet him (even if he does so unenthusiastically) just like he would for anyone else.

Pile o' Balloons- "Someone left litter here!"

Balloon- "My keen tracking senses are telling me there's a clown nearby."

Speedy Balloon- "Clowns have strange and mysterious ways..."

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "It's pretty much just a regular balloon now."

Party Balloon- "Is someone having a party?"

Inflatable Vest- "I guess it's better than not having a life jacket at all..."

Balloon Hat- "I'm a bit too old for this kind of thing."

Walter doesn't like clowns so of course he isn't gonna like his props either. He thinks Wes has a "mysterious", probably sinister, use for the speedy balloon and is reluctant to use the vest.

Walter distrusts Wes and is not a fan at all of his mime antics.

Wanda

Generic- "Sorry %s, I have no time for charades!"

Attacker- "Now hold on just one minute, I don't think that's part of the act!"

Murderer- "Murderer! Do you have nothing to say for yourself?!"

Reviver- "%s's actions speak louder than his words."

Ghost- "Don't you fret, soon it'll be like this never even happened!"

Firestarter- "Ah... it looks like I'm in the bad timeline again."

Wanda is pretty neutral, but I don't think she's too fond of socializing with Wes considering he can only communicate in "charades", and maybe by writing, which she doesn't have time for.

Pile o' Balloons- "Everyone has their forte. Some bend time, others bend balloons."

Balloon- "Balloons have such a short lifespan."

Speedy Balloon- "Just the extra bit of speed I've been looking for!"

Speedy Balloon (deflated)- "Well, that was short-lived."

Party Balloon- "Balloons within balloons."

Inflatable Vest- "If it keeps me from drowning, I'll wear it."

Balloon Hat- "Ha, I'd look ridiculous in that! Let me try it on."

Saying that "Some bend time, others bend balloons." sounds pretty condescending. But again, we can't hear the tone she is saying this in so we can't tell for sure how she means it. My interpretation is that she may look down on Wes for not having much to offer in terms of survival or prowess, but she will give him credit where credit is due; he's good at balloons. After all, she does seem to like Wes' balloons, actually appreciating the usefulness of his balloons in some situations.

Overall, she is neutral towards Wes, but mostly just sees him as a clown. Wanda is actually a pretty silly woman, she is not averse to having fun, even if she is all "I don't have time for this and that". I think if she did have the spare time, she would not mind hanging around Wes, but I don't see her making the time to do so.

Conclusion

Most of the survivors like Wes. A lot of the survivors though, including the some of the ones that like him, seem to view him as just "the mime" rather than anything else. Not being able to see past his gimmick does makes sense for a lot of the survivors because they aren't able to communicate with Wes in the way they're used to: talking. The mime thing is also a hit or miss with the survivors, some are not big fans of clowns while others love it.

Wes' biggest allies: Willow, Wortox, Winona

Wes' biggest haters: Walter, Wurt, WX-78

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙺𝚂 𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙳?

description: in which charli meets her future girlfriend in a coffee shop in london problem however - she’s bethany england’s cousin

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charli grant x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction! Do not take any of this seriously.

warnings: language, cuteness

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y/n just posted

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y/n smiley :))

tagged bethanyengland4, daisy_c1 and 6 others

view all 200 comments

y/f/n1: vibe 😎

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y/n: ikr 😏

y/f/n2: so many smiley faces

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y/n: 🙂🙂🙂

y/f/n3: ☺️☺️

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y/n: 😘😘

bethanyengland4: 💙💙

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y/n: 💙💙

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username1: omg who is this ?!?!??

y/f/n4: that night was a weird vibe tbf

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y/f/n5: i blame y/n 🤷‍♀️

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y/n: oi fucker

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y/f/n6: you kiss your mother with that mouth 😏

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y/n: no but i kiss yours 😏

mart.thomas: what fun!!

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y/n: love you marta !!

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username2: how does she know the spurs girls ?!

username3: 🧐🧐

y/f/n7: coffee, fashion, night out, wanna be aesthetic, bethany, TRAIN, daisy and the best band set up ever

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daisy_c1: thanks for the info 😭

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y/n: why did he just dissect my post lmao

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daisy_c1: oi leave him alone - he can do whatever he wants 🖕

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y/n: you wanna fight 🧐

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daisy_c1: Y E S

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y/n hummed as she flipped another chair over, the morning sun slowly pushing through London, Bulls Cross road was just starting to get busy as people rushed toward the centre of London for work.

y/n flipped the sign at the door, smiling at Daisy the two workers letting out a joint sigh as they waited for the usual morning rush the coffee shop always had.

Since y/n could remember, her parents had wanted to own a coffee shop, and when y/n's father passed away when she was 18, her mum decided to do it.

The woman baked the best sweet treats and savoury paninis which people adored, she and her five kitchen staff worked out back - switching shifts and y/n with her rotated seven out front worked serving the customers.

y/n enjoyed the ability to bond with people over drinks, and the fact she and her mother mainly employed college/university kids who really enjoyed working and did so with a smile.

The bell echoed and the three shared a look before bursting into it, rushing and bustling as they worked swiftly for the next two hours, battling the morning rush, until the clock finally hit 9am.

"Oh my god!" Daisy groaned, the two slumping onto the counter in relief that the cafe was finally empty. The bell went once more and y/n sighed.

"Slacking on the job?" A voice asked, an amused tone shining through.

"Beth!" y/n grinned, rushing over to her cousin who scooped her up in a tight hug.

"Hey mini!" Bethany cheered. "Here for my morning dose of caffeine!" She adds and y/n nods as Daisy starts making Bethany's usual coffee order.

"How are you?" y/n asked her cousin as she moves back behind the counter.

"Good, we have a new signing starting today, so I'm excited." Bethany nods and y/n smiles.

"Yeah, Charlie Grant right? The Australian?" y/n asks and Bethany nods.

"You do pay attention, you do care!" Bethany says, grinning at the fact her cousin, who didn't really like football knew who their new signing was.

"Meh, a little bit." y/n laughs, holding up her pointer finger and her thumb to make a small space between them.

The two cousin's share a laugh before Daisy hands Bethany her coffe, the woman thanking her as Daisy shrugs it off, miming to y/n she was going to go outside for a minute and have a vape which y/n allows with a nod and a smile.

"I will see you tonight yeah, for dinner?" Bethany asks y/n who nods happily.

"Yeah of course." y/n smiles and Bethany grins, leaning over to press a kiss to her younger cousin's cheek.

"See you tonight! Love you." Bethany calls.

"Love you too!" y/n calls out, before the door shuts and the cafe is quiet once more.

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Only twenty minutes after Bethany had got her coffee the door opened again and a blonde wondered in, eyes wide as she looked around at the menu, mouth every so often moving along with the words of the items on the menu.

Daisy had been sent to get some school work done in the staff area out the back, y/n telling her to come back just before quarter to eleven, which was when their lunch rush would start until 2 - Leonard would also be in by then and then once 3 hit Daisy would go home.

"Hiya, can I help?" y/n asked, a smile on her face as the girl looked at her and her cheeks reddened.

"Oh, hi. Um, what's good in here?" The woman asked and y/n smiled at her.

"Depends, what do you like the look of?" y/n asked, turning to look at the menu which was big enough to have some variety on but not stupidly big.

"I like the look of you." The girl said, seemingly without thinking and y/n's head snapped to her, the girl covered her mouth in embarrassment and y/n giggled.

"Thank you, however I am not on the menu." y/n laughed and the girl giggled slightly. "I'm y/n." She added, holding out her hand.

"Charli." The girl introduced, shaking y/n's hand.

"I'm guessing from the accent, you're not for around here?" y/n asks.

"No, I'm from the motherland of Australia." Charli smiles and y/n chuckles.

"Well Charli, welcome to London! Now what can I get for ya?" y/n asked.

Once Charlie had ordered her drink, y/n got on with making it quick and putting it in a to go cup. She then handed it to the woman opposite, ignoring the way their finger bushed as Charli took it.

"Can I get your number, maybe you could show me around London, y'know?" Charli asks and y/n smiles.

"Tell you what, come back tomorrow morning, and I'll give you my number." y/n nods and Charli grins brightly.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow chick!" Charli before she leaves the cafe and y/n smiles.

"Wasn't that Bethany's new signing?" Daisy asks, y/n jumping in shock having not heard her appear in the back doorway.

"Maybe." y/n chuckled, Daisy rolling her eyes playfully. "What?" y/n asks. "She's really really hot." She adds and Daisy chuckles, grabbing a diet coke at the fridge and going back to studying.

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daisy_c1 just posted on her story

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y/n just posted on their story

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y/n huffed as she pushed through the restaurant door, moving toward the loud noise of what she was sure were the Tottenham players.

She lid off her coat, her relaxed yet classy dress being on display as she moved toward the table, Becky being the first one to notice her and get up.

"y/n!" Becky cheered, pulling the girl in for a hug.

"Hi Becks!" y/n smiles hugging her as several of the team also raised to their feet. After doing her rounds and saying hi to everyone, y/n noticed Bethany and Charli walking back from the bar, clearly having ordered some non-alcoholic drinks for everyone.

"There she is!" Bethany cheers, moving over to y/n and pulling her in for a tight hug. y/n looked over Bethany's shoulder, winking cheekily at Charli who was watching her with wide shocked eyes.

"Hi Beth, you okay?" y/n asks pulling away, her cousin nodded as she dragged Charli over.

"Charli, this is my cousin and the best coffee maker in town, y/n." Bethany smiles.

"Hi." y/n smiles offering her hand.

"Hey." Charli nods, shaking her hand as Bethany pulls y/n down to sit, Charli the other side.

"I ordered you your usual?" Bethany asks her cousin and y/n nods thanking her with a kiss on your cheek. Bethany then gets into a conversation with Marta, so y/n turns to Charli.

"So, Bethany is your cousin?" Charli asks. "My captain?" She asks again and y/n chuckles.

"Still want my number?" y/n asks hopefully.

"You are really fit." Charli sighs and y/n chuckles, the two sharing a laugh. "I guess you'll just have to see if I come in tomorrow." Charli hums.

"You better." y/n warns and Charli just giggles, before the two turn to separate people to talk.

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The next morning, y/n went through the rush and the watched the door impatiently, hoping to see a familiar blonde walk through the door.

At 9.05am y/n sighed and assumed Charli had gone straight to training so started making herself a hot chocolate, and one for one of the newbies that was currently studying out back.

"Can I get some service?" A voice asks and y/n jumps, turning to see Charli waiting with a cheeky grin. y/n furrows her brows wondering how she didn't here the bell of the door.

"You came." y/n said with a small smile.

"Well you see, there's a really good offer on the table of this beautiful chicks number." Charli sighs and y/n chuckles.

"Oh yeah, want me to go get her?" y/n asks and Charli nods.

"Would ya? She's stunning and may be related to the Tottenham women captain." Charli nods.

y/n chuckles before spinning on the spot and mockingly gasping at Charli, as if she didn't know she was there, at this Charli bursts into laughter.

"Charli, lovely to see you." y/n smiles and Charli smiles softly back.

"So..." Charli says, resting against the counter.

"You looking for this?" y/n asks, holding up a napkin with her number scrawled across.

"Yes I am indeed." Charli nods, leaning over and snatching it from y/n's hand before she could blink. The blonde had the number in her phone and ringing quickly.

y/n's phone vibrated on the side and Charli nodded, happy to know that the number was correct and y/n now had her number. y/n chuckled slightly as she grabbed her phone and added Charli as a contact.

"I have to go." Charli says softly. "But do you think we could meet up, outside of Spurs dinners and coffee shop counters?" Charli asks and y/n smiles softly, texting across her answer.

to charli: tomorrow here, 7pm.

Charlie looks up back at y/n, a bright smile on her face when she realises they are going on a date and she nods her head.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow." Charli nods before leaning over the counter and pecking y/n's cheek. "Bye!" Charli calls before rushing out.

y/n bit her lip, smiling softly before running a hand over her cheek, she then sighs and opens her phone quickly texting Bethany, who replies far quicker than expected.

to bethyyyy <3: if I asked to date one of your team-mates, what would you say? x

from bethyyyy <3: this abt Charli?

to bethyyyy <3: wtf - what the actual fuck - how did...

from bethyyyy <3: please a lesbian always knows

to bethyyyy <3: hahahahahahahah

from bethyyyy <3: go for it btw! xx

to bethyyyy <3: love you x

from bethyyyy<3: love you too xx

y/n smiled as she looked up from her phone, before grinning at the ceiling and fist bumping herself - all she had to do was take Charli to a good first date. And she had just the place.

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charli_grant just posted on her story

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y/n just posted

liked by daisy_c1, bethanyengland4 and 108, 287 others

tagged charli_grant, bethanyengland4 and 6 others

y/n umm hi everyone ?

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y/f/n1: soooooo many people omg 😶😶

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y/n: 🫣🫣

y/f/n2: a lotta coffeee that day ! 😝

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y/n: it was quite the day ! 😅

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y/f/n2: 😂😂

username1: is it me or is she so pretty ?!! 😍😍

samanthakerr20: was great to meet you pookie !! I WILL BE RETURNING FOR YOUR MOTHERS CAKES 😍😍

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y/n: 🥰😘

beckyspencer91: that night was so good ‘kiss me martinis’ yummm 😌😌

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y/n: 💋💋

username2: so she’s bethany’s cousin?!?!

charli_grant: i need to STOP taking selfies on your phone ! 😭

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y/n: no I like them !! ☺️

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cailtlinfoord: ‘no i like them’ 😶

daisy_c1: omg those flowers 😍😍

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y/n: you got them for me ?!!!!

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daisy_c1: i know i just wanted to make sure everyone knew what a great bff i am ☺️

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charli_grant: 🚨 DAISY IS A GREAT BEST FRIEND 🚨

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y/n: 😂😂😂

bethanyengland4: love you little one!!

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y/n: Love you tooo!!!!!

kyracooneyx: that last photo took Charli and I wayyyyy to long to do 😅

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y/n: in the rain as well

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charli_grant: NO Y/N WAIT YOU HAVE TO GET THE AESTHETIC ANGLE - kyra after making us stand in the rain for five minutes 🙄

see more comments...

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y/n chuckled as her phone continued to go off, neither her or Charli bothered as they continued to skate around the empty roller rink, everyone having gone home.

y/n held her hand out for Charli, the blonde grasping it as they rolled over the wood, singing along to the music as they did so, Charli pulled y/n slightly, arms wrapping around her waist as she pulled the girl into her chest.

y/n breathed in shock, arms wrapping around Charli's shoulders as the blonde skates them both, y/n not attempting to skate backwards, just letting Charli bring her along.

"I really enjoyed tonight." Charli whispered quietly, pushing a strand of hair away from y/n's eyes.

"Does that mean you want another one?" y/n asks hopefully, Charli smiling as she skates them toward the exit.

"I'd love to." Charli nods, as she holds y/n's hands, letting her get from the rink.

"Yeah?" y/n asks, smiling as Charli nods.

"Yeah." Charli smiles, the two taking their skates off and thanking the workers before sliding their trainers back on and walking back outside.

"Come on, there is one more thing to do." y/n smiles, dragging Charli toward her car where the two get in, turning the heat on to keep them warm as y/n drives to a spot just outside the woods, the Tottenham training centre the other side of them.

"Have you brought me here to kill me?" Charli asks as they get out, coats zipped up.

"Shut up." y/n laughs.

"No, cause I warn ya, I'm scrappy." Charli says and y/n laughs more.

"Oh shush." y/n hums climbing onto the roof of her Volvo. "Come on." She adds as she lays back, Charli joining her with a furrowed brow.

"What are ya doing chick?" Charli asks her.

"Lie down and look up Charl." y/n says, Charli doing as she was told, a gasp falling from her lips. "Out here, the light pollution isn't as bad, so you can actually see all the stars." y/n smiles at her.

"It's beautiful." Charli says, y/n humming in agreement as she watches the scene above her. "Thank you for tonight, it's been fantastic." Charli admits softly.

"I think the company's been the best thing." y/n says, turning her head to face Charli, the blonde doing the same.

"You know, I would agree." Charli smiles softly, her hand reaching out to find y/n's, the two linking their fingers as they turn back to the stars.

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charli_grant just posted on her story

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END

okay there will deffo be a part two to this but once I have fought my way through requests!

-

Queenie! x

[jalicefanficblog]

saw on ya main blog you wrote for carmen sandiego. a dr. saira bellum x child reader scene please with mind experiments?

I am full into Carmen Sandiego Mood lately and love the Series and its complex Characters. So i wrote a little Oneshot about our beloved Dr. Bellum and a femal child reder (platonic of course!)

Little Lucky Charm

You were one of the few children on Vile Island.

Not created because someone found you, but rather brought into this world through a genetic experiment combined with dark science and the brain experiments of Dr. Saira Bellum.

A creation that should not have existed from an ethical point of view. But when you are born on Vile Island… or created like in your case, such a detail does not count.

The annoying baby phase was skipped and you saw the light of day at the age of 2, fully developed with the vocabulary of a toddler and the emotional ups and downs.

Some might say you are a little spitting image of Saira and Dash Haber. You inherited your 'mother's' bad eyesight and your father's gray hair, your eyes are blue-gray. You have a curious character but your parents taught you early on what behavior and following rules mean. At the age of 3, you are always very proud when you can help your mom with one of her experiments.

You don't understand that these are evil experiments that harm other people. For you, everything your mother does is exciting, much more exciting than the strange things that Aunt Cleo collects or the questions that Uncle Gunnar, asks you while grinning so strangely and writing something down on a pad of paper. Your mom also likes cat videos. Cats are soooo great!

That's why one of your favorite students at the Vile Academy is Tigress. She has a big cat costume and every time you run into her, you call out loudly and for everyone else to hear - big kitten - before you try to hug one of Tigress' legs. Most of the time, however, Tigress uses her acrobatic skills and her speed to get to safety from you. She's not really the person who likes children. But that doesn't bother you - you still like the big kitten. Even if she's not one of your mother's favorite students.

That would be Crackle - also known as Graham - but you don't find him half as nice as Paper Star. One of Uncle Gunnar's favorites. Which of course doesn't mean that you don't have a favorite among the male students at the academy. Even though he doesn't speak and speaks a completely different language, he understood exactly what you wanted to say with your toddler sounds and words, especially in the first few months after you were created. If you had to choose, your very best friend on the entire campus would definitely be Mime Bomb. You like him and he is currently trying to teach you his way of communicating.

You have a rather mixed relationship with your mom's other friends. After all, the last child on the island was Black Sheep - unfortunately, your paths never crossed.

You were created , after Black Sheep left the island. Countess Cleo was not good with children and once refused to look after you for a few hours at your mother's request, because Saira had to go to an international villain meeting in Seattle and the other Vile chairmen were busy and your father was on an outside mission in New Zealand. Luckily, Coach Brunt took on the task and gave you a cupcake. She is like the cool, strong aunt to you. Even if her outbursts of anger sometimes make you seek protection behind Uncle Gunnar. Similar to Cleo, Shadowsan also kept you at a distance and was always strict with you. Perhaps also because he didn't want an incident like the one with Black Sheep to happen again.

"Daddah back soon? Miss Daddah soooo much!" - you spread your arms to make it clear to Dash , in your video call via the tablet how much you miss him. It had been so many nights since you said goodnight to the moon and indirectly to Dash too, of course, and so many listening cd´s , that your mom put on for you to help you sleep while she was still working overtime in her lab and researching new inventions.

Sometimes your father didn't want you to call him that in front of the other Vile members, because it was actually just the DNA that Dash had thrown together with Saira's DNA. But you saw him as your father and didn't care if he would pull a dramatic face when Aunt Cleo made a nasty comment.

"I still have a lot to do. You will be a good girl for Dr. Bellum?" - Dash's answer sounded cold , but there was a spark of compassion in his eyes.

"Good girl, yes! Help Mommy! By by Daddah!”, you wave once into the camera as your father has to end the video call and then run out of your room with the tablet in your hand to your mother , to give the tablet back. Saira was careful not to give you too much screen time.

"There's my lucky charm! Come to Mommy, you can help me and Professor Maelstrom with an important experiment!" - with these words, your mom picked you up and you quickly dropped the tablet onto the sofa , before you automatically wrapped your arms around her neck and were curious about what kind of experiment it was.

You can help? How great! You're a good helper! A good girl to be proud of. Maybe there will be muffins or cupcakes for that later?

You were put down on a table in your mother's lab and Uncle Gunnar came into the room followed by Crackle. Crackle , was told to sit in the chair… it didn't look like a normal chair… not really like your high chair either, which you were less and less keen to get into. Was it a new chair?

“…..it won't happen again…I can get better!”, - said Crackle as the arm straps closed.

“Was Crackle naughty....bad?”, you asked curiously to Uncle Gunnar as your mom approached the now immobilized Crackle with a small device.

Gunnar stood next to you at the edge of the table, partly because you leaned forward curiously and threatened to fall down - he grabbed you and put you down on the floor….the cleaners, had enough to do, they don't have to remove blood stains from a toddler.

“Oh indeed. Crackle broke the rules and now has to face the consequences”, - said Gunnar with a devious undertone.

“Bad Crackle! Don't break rules! Time out,” - you said, making clicking noises with your tongue.

“Oh my little lucky charm, I don’t think our Crackle can make up for this rule breaking with a time out” - your mother laughed, almost in a delusional manner, and then turned to Crackle.

“It won’t hurt, you’ll just be a little dizzy… and then the happy days will follow!”

The next thing you saw was your mom putting the strange device on Crackle’s head, turning it on and then Crackle letting out a few panicked screams , before his body remained sitting on the chair, asleep and without the energy to defend itself. Apparently he had fainted.

Your mom starts to laugh evilly, Uncle Gunnar starts to laugh amusedly, so it must be something good… the evil Crackle has learned that you should follow rules… so you giggle childishly once and clap your hands several times, you adapt to the mood of the adults. Because they know what is right and what is wrong.

“That’s my girl! Just watch careful, then one day you'll be just as wonderful a scientist as your mommy!” - your mother said happily, first putting the strange device away and then picking you up again.

“Your thoughts and brain experiments are getting better . And Crackle won't remember anything?”, said Gunnar as the two were on their way to the meeting room, where the other chairmen of Vile were already waiting for them. You had now rested your head tiredly on your mother's right shoulder and your eyes half closed, you would soon be asleep.

“I guarantee that Crackle won't remember anything , that has to do with us, the island or Vile… but I will never forget my boy,” said your mom.

Half asleep, you pat your mom's left hand and the glove.

“My mommy! Me mommy's favorite”

Uncle Gunnar's amused laughter penetrates your ears like cotton wool as you get increasingly tired.

But you hear your mom's answer and loving words very clearly before you slip into a gentle sleep.

"Of course you are mommy's favorite, my favorite girl…my favorite lucky charm. Forever"

THE END

[wrenaspun]

Just wanted to tell you that I love your writing so much — I reread “one way or another” like once a month at least. And any fic where you write from Laurent’s perspective is automatically incredible showstopping never been done before etc. in my eyes. Nobody gets the depths of his horniness for Damen quite like you :)

Anyway for the prompt, how about Laurent and Damen trying to figure out the best way to tell Auguste (alive) about their relationship

Aw anon, thank you, that's very kind!! I'm so glad you enjoy the fic(s) enough to return to them <3 For the prompt, this ficlet ended up taking place in the same 'verse as burst the sky in my head, but it should also stand alone just fine! -

“You could hire a skywriter,” Damen suggested lazily. He had one arm behind his head and was staring drowsily up at the clear Ios sky, his sun-browned skin glistening in the sunlight, looking like some artist’s wet dream of a classical painting.

Laurent scooped up a handful of sand and threw it at him.

None of it landed above his shoulder, but Damen’s face scrunched up anyway, and he brought his free hand up to brush fussily at a few nonexistent grains on his nose. Then he reached out and took Laurent’s hand and brought it to his lips. “You could have one of those parties,” he said, while Laurent tried not to melt under the combined force of the sun and Damen’s sheer charm. “With the glitter, and the announcements — what do they call them?”

“Gender reveal parties?”

“That,” said Damen. He mimed a balloon popping. “Congratulations, it’s a boyfriend.”

“That is not what Auguste would say if I burst a blue glitter balloon in his face,” said Laurent, but he spent a few minutes thinking about doing it anyway, just for the look they would get.

The problem was, there was no good way to tell one’s older brother that one was seeing his nemesis-turned-friend. More — that one was in love with said friend, wanted everything that came with that, to get married, to spend their lives together. Laurent curled his toes into the sand.

Not for the first time, he wished Auguste was a little less straightforward. But that was unfair, because he loved his brother’s unflappable straightforwardness, his easy candidness. It wasn’t really his fault that it made things difficult for Laurent, who had come out to his mother at the age of fourteen by saying well… in a delicately sceptical tone when she talked about his bringing girlfriends home. The next week she’d said the same thing but about boyfriends and he hadn’t corrected her and they’d understood each other quite perfectly ever since.

Auguste, good-natured and oblivious, would not pick up on such a hint. He was quite useless at picking up any hints at all, as a childhood full of poorly-coordinated cover stories for Laurent’s attempts at mischief would attest.

But if Laurent couldn’t hint, the only alternative then was to say it aloud: Auguste, I’m in love with Damen. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Laurent wanted it so much that it became impossible to say. His desire was so ravenously enormous that it looped back around to being mortifying. He felt as though he had a very large, very poorly behaved dog behind him all the time, trying to get at Damen. He’d never felt like this before about anyone.

“You could hire a musician,” said Damen. And opened one deep brown eye to peek up at him, his merriment poorly disguised. “To sing it at him.”

“Will you please take this seriously,” Laurent grumbled, but even his voice was conspiring against him, refusing to sound sharp. He sounded disgustingly smitten.

Damen sat up, brushed off his torso, and then in a single graceful movement of rippling muscle he manoeuvred himself onto Laurent, pushed him down into the warm sand, pinned him bodily in place. “Believe me,” he said; Laurent’s whole body was flushed and thrilled, “I’m taking this very seriously.” He drew his nose over Laurent’s jaw, and even that minute touch sent sparks down Laurent’s spine. He turned his head and pressed a vicious kiss to Damen’s neck, applying his teeth, revelling in the laughing groan this wrung from Damen’s chest.

“Laurent,” he said breathlessly. Laurent hummed, and Damen said his name again, his smile audible. “I have another idea.”

Laurent broke reluctantly away. “Tell me.”

“Auguste texted me ten minutes ago asking where we were.”

“He what?” Alarmed.

“Well, he’s on break too,” said Damen, in an eminently reasonable tone.

“Is he coming down to join us?”

“He said something along those lines,” said Damen. “I didn’t want to interrupt your lecture on Professor Euandros’ shortcomings.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Laurent muttered. Teaching Professor Euandros’s third-year course on classical poetry had been a nightmare that he would need the whole summer break to recover from. The man hadn’t met an organisational system he didn’t hate with a violent passion. “So Auguste — but what was your idea?”

“Oh,” said Damen. He rolled off Laurent and sat up — a poor start. Laurent said so and watched as Damen’s teeth showed in a dazzling grin. “Here, sweetheart,” Damen said, tugging Laurent closer to him. “Let him find us like this, and you won’t have to say a word. I’ll do all the talking.”

“Like this?” They were both sitting up now, leaning against each other, skin to skin. Intimate, but very innocent. Damen made an affirmative noise. Laurent hummed thoughtfully, then let himself slide down until his head was in Damen’s lap.

“Or like this,” Damen agreed, stroking his warm fingers through Laurent’s hair.

Laurent hummed again. Then, teasing, he turned his face and nuzzled in a certain direction. Damen jolted. Laurent bit down on a smile.

“Not like that,” said Damen. The beach was empty aside from them — it was small and relatively unpopular, and the vast majority of people had gone back to work last week — but there was still the little thrill of exposure. “Fucking hell, Laurent.”

“You said ten minutes ago,” said Laurent. Desire was swelling in his chest, as wild and as wide as the sea.

Damen said, “Yes,” very carefully. A man who knew exactly the kind of trap that was being sprung on him.

Laurent said, “It takes thirty to get down here from the university.”

[creaturefeaster]

This might be a silly question (and if it's been answered in some way before, then my apologies!) but before the Fault, in the plane where Mimes come from, would they technically all (not just the CQ Mimes) have known each-other? Every single color? Like after the Fault they see a Mime on the street and go, "(Sigh) That guy I don't like is even worse physically."

Or, since there's surely too many to even count, would they only know a few? Whoever is closest to them and whatnot?

Sorry if this doesn't make sense!

Most mimes would know about most other mimes, but they also have clearly defined social circles. They have existed for eons, and that is a very long time. Many mimes have communicated with each other at least once, and if not, have likely heard about them during communication with others. They did not have actual voices within their realm, but their voices upon entering the physical realm would still be recognisable to any mimes who have communicated to each other before.

But with eons of time to communicate with each other, comes eons of time to forget about each other at the same time. Each mimes social network is typically much larger than what the average humanoid would have-- mimes can have friend circles of 100's. And friends tend to gravitate towards each other in reality just as they would in their realm, so it's super common for them to run into each other by chance.

Their realm is a blend of every color imaginable, and typically they get to know their neighbors best. With time they shift around, but it's such a long process they don't have much of a choice but to be in close contact with their neighbors whether they want to or not.

Though it looks condensed, each hue is somewhat isolated. A lot of space in between them is used to connect and communicate.

It is much like a hivemind, or you can even equate it to neurouns connecting and communicating, though they can choose who they want to communicate with and how far they're willing to reach out. It isn't difficult to reach out from long distances, but it can occupy their ability to speak to many other mimes at once. The closer they are to each other, the more mimes can 'hang out' together.

Their form of communication is essentially connecting their consciousness together, and it is something they can still do even while they pilot their vessels in the physical realm. This is another reason why they can converge prior to any visible, physical connection.

So yes, most mimes know of/are aware of other mimes-- they know those shades of color exist, and may have past history with them to strengthen that awareness. But they keep a closer, smaller social circle that they are more familiar with. The hue alone is typically enough to let a mime know who they're talking to.

[pastafossa]

https://www.instagram.com/p/C7fiCy7P8Ch/?igsh=Mm5zdnVhOHg0bGpl

I wish I could be a witness to a situation where someone, who finds this as amusing as i do, tries to describe this to Matt.

Jfc I cackled so hard I woke up the fucking dog 🤣

Major vibes of Drunk!College!Foggy trying to explain this to Drunk!College!Matt

Foggy gestured blearily at his head. "And 's—he's got a cross behind his head in the picture—" "Whose head?" Matt slurred from their dorm couch. "Th' cat. I told you—" "He's in a church?" Matt mumbled. He supposed cats could be in church. Although that might hurt church mice, who sounded like they belonged there, too. It was an ethical conundrum he'd have to consider when he was a bit more sober. "No, a cemetery." Foggy swayed a little, waving at the phone like Matt could actually see it. "But the cross—" "'s the cat dead? That doesn't sound funny." Matt blinked and then frowned, rolling his head clumsily towards Foggy. "That's sad. Why are you making me sad?" "No no no, the cat's alive, and he's all—serious cat. And the cross has a lil round thing under it, and he looks like he's wearing it like a hat, ok?" Foggy mimed something over his head. Matt wasn't sure what. His senses got blurry about three drinks ago. "So you know what he is?" Foggy leaned in, grinning drunkenly. "Ask me." "It's a pun isn't it?" "He's... a cat-tholic." There was a long silence, as Matt's drunken neurons strung the meaning together.

Then... he started to giggle. "I TOLD YOU IT WAS FUNNY!" Foggy bellowed triumphantly, over the slowly growing sound of Matt's drunken, hysterical laughter. "I TOLD YOU! CATHOLIC."

"If I meow, am I cat-tholic too?" "Dude, do it!" "...Meow," Matt said, with all the alcohol-infused solemnity he could manage. "CAT-THOLIC!" Foggy howled, throwing his hands up towards the sky. "Dude, we're-we're getting you a cat one day, ok? Cause then-"

"I'd be a Catholic with a Cat-tholic Cat," Matt wheezed. "Oh god." "Done." Foggy flopped back onto his bed. "So getting you a cat. Office cat one day. Cat-tholic. God. We're the best."

[dross-the-fish]

the 2004 movie doesn't change much from the musical but it still feels so much worse

That is the power of directing. There are small differences between some of the stage productions and choices like actor interpretation and directing can make a huge difference as to how we experience the show. I have seen productions that made me totally get why some people ship Erik x Christine and some where the actors play Erik so aggressive and Christine so meek that I can't fathom it. In the 25th anniversary recording idk what they did with Raoul but there's such a distinct lack of warmth or tenderness for Christine that I find myself not wanting them to end up together vs the original recording where Steve Barton is affectionate and kind in his gestures and tone of voice when he speaks to Sarah Brightman. Direction and casting can make a world of difference and nearly every choice made for the 2004 film was completely wrong and even seemingly small changes have a massive impact. I'm not going to talk about Gerard Butler's singing or the lack of significant deformity, there's nothing I can add to that conversation. Casting an actress as young as Emmy Rossum to play in a love triangle between two men in their 30's was a bad decision because there are shots where she seems especially childish and I can't get past the notion that I'm looking at someone who should be in high school. Then there's the decision to show a scene of Erik approaching Christine while she's still a child when it's implied he's only a few years younger than Madam Giry. The dates on the gave stone that imply she's only 16 and....I really want to give the benefit of the doubt and say it's an oversight but the age of the actress and the scene of her as a literal child when she first hears Erik are just too much for me to handwave as "someone made a typo somewhere" the scene where we see some of Erik's backstory where they put him in a sideshow as a small child and he goes directly from childhood to living in the paris opera (How then, did he help BUILD the opera house? Why does he still have the punjab lasso if he's never been outside of Paris? This creates so many plot holes it's ridiculous) and there is some really really uncomfortable, even offensive depictions of Romani people. Carlotta is always meant to sound overblown and unpleasant and sometimes even shrill to the audience but they go the route of emphasizing her as an in-universe bad singer whom no one likes. Minnie Driver does her best to make the role entertaining and she's easily the best thing in the movie but she could not salvage it. The managers also with their stupid "Scrap Metal" running gag, Joel Schuemacher and ALW are determined to make everyone look as stupid and incompetent as possible. Piangi has a little person who mimes him for some reason? It's like they were really adamant that no one be taken seriously except the main cast. Personal opinion but I feel like moving the chandelier crash from the end of act 1 to the climax of the film doesn't work. I guess the "Disaster beyond imagination" Erik talks about was limited to him killing Joseph Bouquet but without that dramatic chandelier fall after the rooftop scene it losses something and undercuts how much of a legitimate threat Erik actually is and how much the staff should fear him because the implication is that despite the dead body dangling from the rafters the managers managed to get things back under control and finish out the performance. Seemingly small changes but they all have a big impact and whatever issues I have with the stage version they are 100 x worse in the movie adaptation and better casting could not have saved the film.

[homestuckreplay]

JOHN EGBERT BANGING OUT THE TUNES APRIL 21, 2009?!

After our adventures in John's bedroom and living room these past days, we now get a glimpse into his father's study. Unsurprisingly this room is also filled with harlequins, but this time the more businesslike monochrome harlequins, almost veering into mime territory. There's also a copy of 'The Serious Jester' on the desk. From this we could guess that this is where John's dad does the serious part of clowning - filing his taxes or whatever - if it weren't for the next line.

There is also a CAN OF PEANUTS on the desk. Ha ha, oh DAD. You won't be falling for THAT one again any time soon. A severe peanut allergy is a terrible affliction to cope with.

AGAIN?? Is this suggesting that John's dad, through carelessness at best, has been leaving peanuts around the house to potentially poison his son with? Can we infer that his ceaseless cake baking is a sort of Russian roulette, where most cakes are perfectly safe but there's a small chance any one could have peanuts blended in? Is the divide between John and his father that John does whimsical, ridiculous pranks while his father does 'serious' pranks that endanger people's lives? When are we going to meet this evil clown?!

A father without a pipe is like a strapping roughneck without a toothpick. That is to say, HE IS A RATHER PISS-POOR EXCUSE FOR A ROUGHNECK IF YOU ASK ME.

This is the THIRD time an opinion like this has been voiced by the narration - first the tire swing, then the fire, and now the father, all trappings of the suburban lifestyle in which John seems to live. The narrator explicitly calls themself 'me' here too, suggesting a distinct entity instead of a disembodied narration. Are we reading this from the point of view of an entity who is keeping John homestuck, forcing him to partake in all the trappings of home life? And does this have anything to do with Sburb - as someone pointed out on Discord last night, it's only one letter away from Suburb?

I think that captchaloguing a captchalogue card should cause John to open a portal to the astral plane like with bags of holding in D&D.

But the most exciting part of this update is John playing the piano on page 77 - complete with a song playing inside the animation! The song is Showtime by Kevin Regamey and Malcolm Brown, and it's a very pleasant listen. John is a skilled piano player!! Which means that sooner than expected, I'm getting an answer to my question of 'what is John good at'. I can't believe there hasn't been a single mention of music in this comic until now, and suddenly John busts out this simple but lightweight, airy, carefree melody that he's clearly practiced loads before. What other secrets is this kid hiding from us?

The caption on this animation is even more intriguing - '(Pages including sound will be preceded by [S] in the command.)' Is music going to become a regular part of the comic? Is John playing music going to become relevant to the plot, so we'll get to hear more of his songs, or will music be worked into the story in other ways? This is treading new ground, moving Homestuck further away from a 'traditional' comic, which only makes me more curious about where it'll go next.

[wannaeatramyeon]

i need samuel with an “annoyingly cute” s/o who literally never shuts up and pester him 24/7 whose fave color is pink (literal the opposite of him)

Who's out here trying to break people out of their Samuel angst? I started writing this, but realised I was more building up how Samuel + Reader got together rather than anything about what you asked lol.

Thanks for the ask anon - and happy Saturday!

Samuel Seo x Reader: Another work day

Samuel trying to do work, You doing anything but

Samuel wonders whether it's a curse or bad karma that he's with you.

You bounce into his office in a cloud of pink (and an impeccably cut suit) hellbent on trying to ruin his day.

"Sammy baby, wanna go for lunch?" You perch on his desk, annoyingly sitting on some of the important documents he is currently trying to review.

"Y/N, it's 10am. And how many times must I tell you to call me Samuel in the office," he roughly pushes you off.

"Fine be like that Mr. Important Boss Man. I have stuff to do too!"

"Then go do it."

.

.

"Mr. Seo? There's an urgent call on line 2 for you."

"Put it through."

"Sammy~ Cmon lets go for lunch."

"It's-" Samuel checks his watch, "10:30."

"Brunch then!"

He hangs up.

.

.

"Mr. Seo, Y/N is calling again. Shall I put them through?"

"Please ignore all calls from Y/N in the next couple hours."

"Of course, I'll tell them you're in a meeting."

.

.

You knock on his office door but receive no response. Slowly, you open it and poke your head around to see Samuel deep into his work. And blatantly ignoring you. Meeting, your ass.

"Samuel. Please."

No reaction.

"I'm really hungry!"

Nothing.

"I promise I'll leave you alone if we go now,"

Finally, his eyes meet yours accompanied with a single raised eyebrow.

"Until at least 5!"

Samuel leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. He gives you his full attention. Hours of peace from you does sound like a decent deal. Why he couldn't get that in the first place, he doesn't know.

"I swear you won't hear a peep from me until the end of the day," you mime zipping your lips and throwing away the key.

Samuel eyes the paperwork that covers his desk and the unread emails notification; he considers your face, excited and smiling. He resigns himself to his fate.

"Fine."

.

.

Samuel finds himself at a small, local hole-in-the-wall. You had eclectic taste at the best of times, but even this seemed a bit too... rustic for your taste.

As soon as you are seated, you nod your head towards to a quiet corner table, where a group of men are talking in hushed voices.

"Hey Sammy, that guy over there - he's the head you wanted to meet with right?"

You pass Samuel your compact mirror so he could discreetly check behind him. You notice his eyes widening and the spark of recognition.

"Did you know he was going to be here?!"

"Well I am hungry too... But why else did you think I wanted grab some food! And in this dump too!"

Samuel clenches his jaw in annoyance, exasperated at your antics yet again. You have undeniably good instinct and showed utmost loyalty to him, but your method left a lot to be desired. He quickly stands up to go over and introduce himself when-

"Hey!" you pout at him, "Don't I deserve a little something?" and tap twice at your puckered lips.

Even with everything, you always manage to draw as much amusement as you do ire. Samuel kisses you and murmurs a thanks before rushing off.

"Love you too, Sammy."