#buy poppers now
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buypoppersnow · 3 months ago
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Exploring the Popularity of PWD Poppers and the Growing Demand for Amsterdam Poppers
Poppers have carved out a unique niche within the global LGBTQ+ community and beyond. Known for their quick and potent effects, poppers are a staple in many social circles, particularly in nightlife and sexual wellness scenes. Among the myriad of poppers available, “PWD Poppers” and “Amsterdam Poppers” are two brands that stand out. This blog delves into the history, appeal, and increasing demand for these poppers, with a special focus on the rising interest in purchasing poppers from Amsterdam.
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Understanding Poppers: A Brief Overview
Poppers are a type of recreational drug typically sold in small bottles. They belong to a class of chemicals known as alkyl nitrites, with isopropyl nitrite being the most common compound in today’s formulations. When inhaled, poppers produce a rapid, short-lasting rush of euphoria and relaxation. This effect is primarily due to the dilation of blood vessels and the subsequent increase in blood flow, which can enhance physical sensations and lower inhibitions.
Historically, poppers were first used medically in the 19th century to treat angina (chest pain) due to their vasodilating properties. However, by the 1970s, their use had shifted from the medical field to the nightlife scene, where they became popular for their ability to enhance music, dance experiences, and sexual encounters.
The Legacy of PWD Poppers
PWD Poppers, standing for "Pacific Western Distributors," have been a significant player in the poppers market for decades. The brand rose to prominence in the 1970s and 1980s, a time when poppers were synonymous with the liberating culture of disco and the emerging rights movement. PWD’s most iconic product, “RUSH,” became one of the most recognized names in poppers, celebrated for its strong, consistent effects and the quality of its formulation.
The success of PWD Poppers can be attributed to their potent and fast-acting formula, which has been a favorite among users for years. The brand’s longevity in the market is a testament to its reliability and the loyalty it has garnered within the poppers community. Moreover, PWD has consistently maintained a certain level of discretion in its packaging—small, pocket-sized bottles that are easily portable—further adding to their appeal.
The Amsterdam Poppers Phenomenon
In recent years, there has been a notable increase in searches for "buy Amsterdam poppers." This trend can be linked to Amsterdam’s reputation as a liberal and open city, known for its progressive attitudes towards drugs, sex, and LGBTQ+ rights. The city’s vibrant nightlife and party scene make it a fitting place for the popularity of poppers to thrive.
Amsterdam poppers are often sought after for their quality and the diversity of brands available. Many users believe that poppers bought in Amsterdam are fresher and more potent, possibly due to the city’s proximity to key distribution channels and a more relaxed regulatory environment compared to other countries.
Moreover, Amsterdam’s well-established network of adult stores, head shops, and online retailers makes it easy for locals and tourists alike to purchase poppers. The ease of access, combined with the city’s reputation for quality products, has fueled the demand for Amsterdam poppers, making them a popular choice for those seeking an authentic and potent poppers experience.
Legal Considerations and Safety
While poppers are legal in many countries, including the Netherlands, where Amsterdam is located, their legal status varies widely around the world. In some places, they are banned outright, while in others, they are sold under the guise of products like "room deodorizers" or "leather cleaners" to circumvent restrictions.
For those looking to buy poppers, it’s crucial to be aware of the legal status in their own country and to purchase from reputable sources to ensure they are getting a safe product. Despite their popularity, poppers are not without risks. Misuse or overuse can lead to adverse effects, such as headaches, dizziness, and in rare cases, more severe health issues. It’s essential for users to be informed about the potential side effects and to use poppers responsibly.
The Future of Poppers
The market for poppers, including PWD Poppers and Amsterdam poppers, shows no signs of slowing down. As more people seek out these products for recreational and sexual enhancement purposes, the industry is likely to continue evolving, with new brands and formulations emerging.
The growing demand for Amsterdam poppers, in particular, reflects a broader trend of consumers seeking out high-quality, authentic experiences, whether that’s through travel, nightlife, or sexual wellness products. As long as cities like Amsterdam maintain their reputation for openness and quality, they will likely remain a hotspot for poppers enthusiasts.
Conclusion
Poppers, especially PWD Poppers and buy Amsterdam poppers, have firmly established themselves as iconic elements of culture and beyond. Their enduring popularity is a testament to their unique effects and the role they play in enhancing social and sexual experiences. As the market continues to grow, and as more people seek out these products, it’s clear that poppers will remain a significant part of the cultural landscape for years to come.
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For those interested in exploring the world of poppers, whether through iconic brands like PWD or the diverse offerings from Amsterdam, it’s important to do so with knowledge and responsibility. With the right information and a bit of caution, poppers can be a safe and enjoyable addition to one’s nightlife or sexual wellness routine.
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hecksupremechips · 2 years ago
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Man gets very mad you keep bothering him and literally half a second later forgets everything cuz you got him a pizza for his birthday
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subleop · 11 months ago
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100 Kinky asks 😈
Top bottom or vers?
Dom, sub, switch?
On a scale of 0 to 10 how kinky would you say you are?
How many people have you had sex with last year?
What size is your penis?
When was your most recent boner?
When did you last cum?
How often do you jerk off?
What is the last thing you jerked off to?
Where did you last cum?
Are you hornier in the morning or evening?
What are your 3 favorite kinks?
What are your limits?
What kink would you most like to try?
What kink have you tried but didn’t enjoy?
Do you have a master/sub?
What’s the kinkiest thing you’ve done?
Favorite piece of underwear you own?
What underwear would you like to buy/be gifted? (pics welcome)
What underwear are you wearing right now and how long have you been wearing it?
Have you ever been wearing a jock or a thong to work?
Have you ever gone to work commando?
What socks are you wearing right now and how long have you been wearing them?
What shoes are you wearing right now and how long have you been wearing them?
Have you ever sniffed someone else’s underwear, socks or sneakers? Or made someone sniff yours?
Have you ever come inside a sock? A sneaker/boot?
Are you into body smells? What kind?
Are you into pits?
How hairy are you?
Do you prefer hairy or smooth?
Do you like being shaven by a dom/shaving a sub?
Do you like humiliation?
Do you enjoy exposing a sub/being exposed?
Do you like dirty talk? What names do you like calling/being called by?
Do you like spitting/being spitted on?
Do you like being punished/punishing a sub?
Do you enjoy receiving/inflicting pain? How strong?
What is your favorite pain instrument?
Do you like giving a spanking/getting spanked?
Do you like slapping/getting slapped?
Have you ever gotten marks/given a sub marks from impact play?
Would you hit a sub’s balls/let someone hit your balls?
Do you like chastity?
Have you ever worn a chastity device/been a keyholder? For how long?
Are you wearing a cage/keeping someone locked right now?
What is your favorite chastity device? Do you own any?
Do you like cock rings?
Do you like choking/being choked? How strong?
Do you like breath control?
Do you enjoy gas masks?
Have you ever tried poppers? Do you like that?
Do you like ass play?
What’s the largest thing you have fitted in your ass/someone else’s ass?
Do you own any ass toys? Which kind?
What’s your favorite thing to put inside your ass/someone’s ass?
Do you like getting fingered? How many fingers can you fit?
Do you like fist? Have you ever tried?
Is there anything in your ass right now?
What’s your prepping routine? Are you naturally clean?
Do you like rimming? Being rimmed?
Have you ever worn a toy in public?
Do you own any fetish gear?
Are you into leather?
Are you into spandex?
Do you own a rubber suit?
Are you into pup play? Do you own any gear?
Do you like putting a collar on a sub/being collared up?
Do you like holding your sub on a leash/being leashed up?
Do you like tying up/being tied up?
Do you own any bondage gear? What’s your favorite?
How long have you ever kept someone/been tied up?
Do you enjoy sensory deprivation?
Do you like putting a gag on a sub/being gagged?
Do you like mummification?
Do you like tickle torture?
Do you like consensual non-consensual?
Do you like role play? What scenario turns you on?
Do you like piss/watersports? How hard do you like it?
Have you ever tasted your own piss?
Have you ever tasted another man’s piss? Has another man ever tasted your own?
Have you ever pissed yourself/made someone piss themselves for fun?
Do you get turned on at public urinals?
Do you get turned on pissing in public/seeing other men piss in public?
Are you into farting on someone/being farted on?
Have you ever farted on someone/been farted on for fun?
Are you into scat? How hard would you like to go?
Have you ever tried scat play?
Have you ever given/received a blumpkin?
Are you into sounding?
What’s your darkest fantasy?
Do you like anonymous public sex? Ever tried a glory hole?
Have you ever visited a gay bathhouse? A cruising bar?
Have you ever attended an orgy?
Have you ever attended a fetish event?
Have you ever had sex with a straight friend?
Do you watch porn often? What’s your favorite way to watch it?
Do you read smut?
Do you have many kinky friends? Do your friends now you’re kinky?
Do you have a kinky partner?
Truth or dare? 😈
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steddiealltheway · 1 year ago
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(A special post for my dear friend Cass @henderdads who is celebrating 10k followers 🫶💛 can’t wait to celebrate more milestones with you 🥳)
Eddie watches the follower count on the Corroded Coffin TikTok rise every time he refreshes their page as the rest of the band looks over his shoulder.
“I can’t believe your bat song is going to bring us to ten thousand followers. Considering it’s about-”
“Shut up,” Eddie cuts him off, refreshing the page again.
“Seriously though,” Grant says, pointing at the follower count, “We’re going to hit ten thousand pretty soon.”
“Which is a big milestone for us,” Jeff adds before circling in front of where everyone in staring at Eddie phone. “Shouldn’t we celebrate or something?”
All the boys pause for a moment, and Eddie can feel them all staring at him, waiting for some type of creative revelation as if he can just come up with something on the spot like... “I have an idea.”
Gareth and Grant high five as Eddie jumps up and points at Jeff. “Go get some lame confetti party poppers and a cheesy celebration cake.” He turns to Gareth and Grant and points at them. “You guys need to find out how to put our follower count on a laptop or something while I set up my room so we can do a livestream on Tiktok in there.”
“We’ve never done a livestream.”
“Exactly!” Eddie says clapping his hands excitedly, “That’s what will grab people’s attention and boost our follower count. We’ll tell them that follower ten thousand will get a special private video from us or something. I don’t know. Whatever they want!”
“What if they ask us to strip?” Grant asks.
Jeff sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder. “No one is going to ask you to strip, dude.”
“You never know!”
Eddie just laughs as he rushes off to his room.
“Wait!” Jeff yells after him.
Eddie pauses and turns around.
“What money am I using to by this stuff?”
Eddie sighs and digs his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out two twenties and handing them over. “If this doesn’t cover it, you’ve done something wrong.”
Jeff smiles widely before running out the door yelling, “I’m gonna spend all of it!”
Eddie doesn’t even care about his money going down the drain, he’s too excited about reaching ten thousand and being able to call Wayne about it. For now, it’s time to seriously do some work to his room in order to make it somewhat presentable…
-:-:-:-:-:-
Eddie adjusts the camera stand and the ring light he bought for their videos that he gets constantly made fun of for buying. But the guys can’t deny how much better their videos look, so he doesn’t want to hear it.
“Jeff, give me your phone.”
Jeff hands his phone over but whines, “Why my phone?”
“Because you have the best camera,” Eddie explains, setting it up and going to their tiktok page. The numbers are quickly climbing through the nine thousands, and at this rate, they’ll definitely hit 10k during the livestream.
Once everything is prepared, Eddie asks, “Ready?”
Everyone nods and Eddie starts the livestream. He waves at the camera and watches the view count grow quickly. “Oh wow. Hi everyone. We haven’t done this before, so sorry for anything weird that may happen or when Grant inevitably says something dumb.”
Eddie gets a smack on the back of the head as Grant says, “Hey!” Jeff and Gareth just look at each other knowingly and laugh.
Eddie half winces and smiles as he rubs the back of his head and reads the comments asking about the numbers on the computer. “Oh shit. Yeah! Oh wait, I don’t think I should’ve sworn. Oops. Uh, anyways!” He takes a deep breath and gestures to the computer screen. “So, this the whole reason for our livestream. We’re about to hit ten thousand followers-”
“Thanks to you guys!” Gareth interjects.
“Yes, thank you guys. Really. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you,” Eddie says sincerely, laying his hands over his heart. “And we thought that we’d do something special for our ten thousandth follower. Maybe send them a video of us doing a cover of their favorite song or something. We don’t know! Whoever it is, you get to choose.”
“But you can’t make us strip!” Grant yells.
Eddie runs a hand over his face before gesturing dramatically toward Grant. “And this is what I meant when I said Grant would inevitably say something dumb.”
Gareth and Jeff just laugh as Grant turns red. Eddie turns around and pats him on the shoulder. “You know we love you.”
“Yeah, because you would suck without me.”
Eddie turns around and looks at the camera. “That’s absolutely true.” He looks at the comments and notices people asking them questions about when they’re releasing another song and if they’re planning on touring anywhere soon.
Jeff leans over squinting and says, “Oh! Our next song is called Hellfire Rains!”
Gareth looks at him slowly and asks, “Dude, are we allowed to say that?”
Eddie puts his head in his hands. This is absolutely a disaster, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Eddie’s head pops back up. “We could do something even worse and give them a sample of it.”
He sees the comment section flood a bit with affirmations of YES PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU.
Eddie turns to the guys and shrugs. “Are you guys good if I play a weird acoustic version of it?”
All the guys shrug and nod until Jeff stops to say. “Wait, what if we hit ten thousand during that?”
“Then, you guys stop me and we look at the follower,” Eddie replies.
Jeff nods and says, “Okay, but what if I told you we’re only nine followers away from ten thousand?”
“What?!” The rest of the boys yell and turn to the computer, noticing the numbers going up.
Eddie scrambles to grab his phone and go to their page, refreshing their notifications to grab the name of the ten thousandth person. He quickly looks at the camera and says, “Okay guys, I’ll give you that cover after we hit this milestone and freak out.” He refreshes the page and grabs Gareth’s shoulder. “Wait, do you have the party poppers?”
“Shit!” He yells running to the plastic Walmart bag and digging through it, handing them to everyone.
“It’s about to happen guys!” Jeff yells.
Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest as he refreshes the page over and over.
“Holy shit!” Grant yells first as Gareth and Jeff yell to celebrate. Eddie glances at the screen showing 10,000 and laughs as everyone pulls their confetti party poppers. He turns back and refreshes the page.
He freezes.
“Eddie, man, who is the lucky person?” Jeff asks excitedly.
Eddie looks at them with wide eyes.
“What?” Gareth asks.
Eddie looks back at the name and presses on the profile, noticing their mutual followers confirming that it’s a legit account. “Oh my god.”
The guys all rush around his phone and stare at the page.
Gareth shrieks with laughter. “Holy shit! Steve Harrington? The same infamous Steve who your bat song is about?”
“The same infamous Steve who you had a horrible crush on in high school but could never get the courage to talk to him?” Jeff adds with a laugh.
“I talked to him once,” Eddie grumbles out running his hands over his face. This cannot be happening.
Gareth laughs loudly and says, “Let me recall it.” He turns to Jeff and acts like he gets flustered as he says, “Uh. Steve. Steve Harrington. You’re. Hi. Yeah. You. Uh. So Dustin and you. That’s cool. I. Well. Good seeing you!” Gareth then turns to run away quickly.
Jeff laughs loudly as Grant says, “Uh, guys?”
Eddie shakes his head as Gareth and Jeff ignore Grant to laugh about it until Grant yells, “Guys!”
They all look at him and notice him staring off. Eddie realizes that he’s staring at Jeff’s phone…which is still streaming.
They all seem to realize it at once and freak out. “Turn it off! Turn it off! End it!” Eddie yells as Grant drops the phone and Jeff scrambles to end the livestream.
They all pause and slowly look at Eddie who breathes out, “What are the chances that Steve wasn’t on that livestream and that everyone will forget about this?”
The rest of the boys slowly turn to look at each other with grim looks on their face.
“Oh no,” Eddie says burying his face in his hands. This is not going to be good.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Sure enough, the next day, there’s a viral TikTok going around of the movement that someone had screen recorded, and Eddie’s phone is spammed with texts from Dustin, annoyed at Eddie for never telling him about his pathetic crush on his babysitter.
Eddie ignores it and his friends attempt to drown out his sorrow with cake and platitudes of, “Hey, we’re actually gaining a lot of followers from this.”
Eddie just groans and buries his face in his bed. This cannot be happening.
“We did promise that we’d give our ten thousandth follower something special,” Jeff says. “So we still need to follow through with that.”
Eddie sighs, “I’m not going to message him.”
“Then I’m going to message him from our account and pretend to be you,” Jeff says.
As Gareth and Jeff encourage him, Eddie slowly sits up and says, “No. No. I’ll do it.” He begrudgingly reaches over and grabs his phone.
“And while you’re at it, people are complaining about you not doing that short cover so…” Gareth trails off as Eddie shoots him a glare.
“Okay, well we’re going to go pick up some food and give you some space so you don’t kill us,” Jeff says while grabbing Grant and Gareth and dragging them away.
“Thank you!” Eddie yells after them.
“But you’re not getting food unless you’ve sent him a message!” Jeff yells before closing the front door.
Eddie sighs and takes a deep breath before he glances at this phone, ignoring all the text notifications from Dustin, but he becomes curious about the text from a number he doesn’t have saved. He clicks on it.
As your 10,000th follower, do I still get to request something?
This is Steve Harrington by the way
Eddie nearly throws his phone but swipes to Dustin’s texts instead typing out, YOU GAVE STEVE MY NUMBER????
He scrolls through the dozens of texts, noticing a sequence of important texts he missed.
can i give steve your number? he’s asking me for it
eddie i swear he’s not mad or anything
okay i can’t promise that but it didn’t sound like he was mad
eddieeeee
eddie stop ignoring me
if you don’t respond im going to send your number
okay
im sending it
if anything happens i expect to be the first to know!!! don’t make me find out from a tiktok ever again
Eddie takes a deep breath and reasons that at least now he knows the number is legitimate. He opens the texts from Steve and stares at them. There’s no way he can text him.
And for some reason, he immediately decides to call him with is arguably a thousand times worse, but before he can hang up, Steve already answers with a, “Hello?”
Eddie swallows and tries to remember how to speak. “Hi,” he croaks out before clearing his throat and trying again, “Shit. Hi.”
“Hi,” Steve says, sounding amused.
Eddie sighs and lays back on his bed. “So, what are the chances that you weren’t on the live stream and you didn’t see that video?”
“Zero.”
Eddie groans. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t checked TikTok yet, but have people found you and flooded your notifications?”
“Uh…” Steve trails off, sounding hesitant to answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes. God, I’m so stupid. I just completely forgot the livestream was going or I never would’ve dragged you into this mess.”
Steve pauses and asks, “And what if I told you that I’m glad you forgot it was still on?”
Eddie sits up. “What?”
“What if…” Steve pauses and Eddie hears rustling on his end as if he’s anxiously twisting around. “What if I told you that I know what I want as your ten thousandth follower.”
“To punch me?”
Steve laughs, and Eddie tries as hard as he can not to latch onto the noise. “To ask you on a date.”
Eddie freezes in shock. Yeah, this isn’t happening.
“Eddie? Are you still there?”
“Yup, still here,” Eddie manages to breathe out. He pauses before asking, “You’re serious?”
“Yeah,” Steve replies, “I kind of had a big crush on you in high school, too. And I may have redownloaded TikTok when I heard about your live stream.”
“No way,” Eddie calls him out.
“Yes way. You should ask my best friend Robin. She saw the live stream and timed the follow perfectly for me. Plus, she’s suffered through my crush on you and has always been mad at me for never doing anything about it.”
Eddie can’t believe it. “Steve, can you FaceTime me right now?”
“Uh, sure. Yeah.”
Eddie clicks on the FaceTime button and waits until Steve’s face appears on the screen, further confirming it’s him and further freaking him out. Gosh, he hasn’t seen him in a while and he’s almost forgotten how gorgeous he is.
“Hey,” Steve says with a smile.
Eddie wants to melt into a pile of goo. “Hi.” He pauses for a second, getting a bit lost in seeing Steve’s smiling face on his phone. Then he remembers, “Oh! Okay, tell me again. But look me in the eye so I know you’re not lying.”
Steve chuckles and asks, “Eddie Munson, my secret high school crush, will you go on a date with me and fulfill the promise you made to all your followers?”
Eddie smiles and says, “Yes.”
-:-:-:-:-:-
A few days later, Eddie posts an update on the Corroded Coffin TikTok with a video of him singing a sneak peak of their new song then glancing off camera to ask, “Does my ten thousandth follower like it?”
Off camera, there’s a voice that sounds exasperated as they say, “How many times are you going to call me that instead of your boyfriend?”
Eddie puts his guitar down and rushes off camera quickly with a smile, but then the voice asks, “Did you end the video?”
Eddie pauses before saying, “No.”
“This is going to be a lasting issue isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” Eddie confesses.
Then, the mystery man appears in the shot, revealing Steve’s smiling face before he ends the video.
Once again, the video ends up going viral, and soon enough, Eddie is celebrating 50k with all the band members along with Steve (and Dustin who is very mad to find out about their relationship via the second TikTok). But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
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lizardsfromspace · 1 year ago
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One of the funnier effects of the "war on Christmas" media panic is that it used to be relatively common for American Christians to oppose the commercialization of Christmas - certainly you'd have stories each year where they talk to someone mad about it, and you didn't have people defending it, really, just being apathetic about it. And they still do but in this case I mean, like, mainstream conservativeish ones
But now that they've whipped people into a frenzy about if Wal-Mart puts MERRY CHRISTMAS on enough cardboard displays they have to pretend shopping at malls is a deeply sacred tradition. You've gotta be a frantic shopper and a brave pill-popper with a credit card on your wrist. This is how you get to the point where Kirk Cameron makes a movie that insists that because God took "material form", we're obligated to celebrate by buying "material things"
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archiveikemen · 3 months ago
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Elbert Greetia 1st Birthday Campaign (2024): Story
His POV
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This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
Read this before interacting
Kate: Lord Elbert, please open your eyes. 
Elbert: … May I?
Kate: Yes, go ahead. 
Led by Kate who told me to keep my eyes closed, I found myself in the dining room of Crown’s castle.
(Wow…) 
Mornings in this castle weren’t usually lively, so it was common for it to be empty. 
But this morning— the dining table was lined with a variety of vibrant looking dishes. 
Victor • William: Happy birthday, Elbert. 
POP! With a light sound, a party popper burst open and confetti danced in the air. 
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Elbert: …
Elbert: Is this… a birthday celebration?
Kate: Yes! Since you and I have plans to go out together tonight, I discussed it with everyone and we decided to celebrate your birthday over breakfast. 
Kate: Happy birthday, Lord Elbert. 
Standing next to me, Kate smiled brightly with sparkling eyes  as though it were her own celebration. 
(... Cute.)
The sight of that smile was enough to warm the coldest part of my heart—,
Elbert: … Thank you. 
When I received her greeting, a smile naturally formed on my face. 
I immediately realised that it was my first time ever smiling like that. 
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Ellis: … [surprised]
Harrison: … Oh? 
A few observant Crown members stared at me in surprise. 
Kate: …? 
Not understanding what was going on, Kate blinked in confusion. 
(There's no need to explain to her why everyone’s surprised.)
(Thinking about all the birthdays I’ve had up till last year will definitely hurt your kind heart.) 
Alfons: I do wonder if a breakfast this heavy would be too much for Lord Elbie’s stomach so early in the morning. 
Having sensed what I was feeling, Al changed the topic.
This childhood friend of mine was always quick to notice the little details.
I thought it was admirable that he and I were opposites in that aspect. 
Liam: He might not be able to finish everything, but he should at least have some cake.
Victor: Kate and I handmade it together last night! 
Alfons: I had a hard time dealing with Elbie’s urge to barge in and ruin the surprise. 
Roger: How did you manage to distract him?
Alfons: By making him choose a dress and accessories for tonight’s party. 
Kate: Eh!? Another new dress…?
The party we were to attend tonight was hosted by one of the companies running the estate. 
Although Kate felt that it was odd to have a party on the lord’s birthday, the hosts weren't to blame… because my birthday wasn't widely known. 
Kate: Thank you, Lord Elbert.
Elbert: Hope you like it. 
Alfons: I can't believe this man tried to buy out the entire store because he didn’t know which one you'd like. 
Elbert: … I narrowed it down to what would suit you most.
Kate: Uhh… now I feel like my present for you is nothing compared to this…
Elbert: A present from you? 
Kate: Of course I had something prepared. I’ll give it to you tonight when we return from the party. 
(A present. From Kate to me.) 
I was so happy, my face felt strange. Was I smiling? I didn't know myself. 
One thing for sure was that… I was glad I met you and had you by my side.
Elbert: Thank you. 
Kate: Fufu, it's too early to thank me. I haven't given it to you yet. 
Alfons: Can the two lovebirds over there please cut the cake already?
Alfons: How about you feed each other too? It’s a special occasion after all. 
Kate: Huh!? 
Elbert: … Shall we? 
Kate: Lord Elbert, you too…
Victor: Yes, yes… that’d be so precious to watch, I might cry. Harry, can I borrow your handkerchief?
Harrison: Use your own. 
Roger: Looks like the corrupted heart is being purified, huh, Al?
Jude: If this guy gets purified, he’d probably disappear completely. 
Alfons: Ahha! What cruel words. It was I who set up this wonderful scene, you know?
Kate’s face turned as red as an apple at the teasing around her.
Elbert: Mm… delicious. 
Kate: I- I’m glad you think so.
Kate: … I hope this birthday will be a happy one.
(It’s already the happiest birthday of my life…) 
However, I kept that from her because I wanted more. 
After we enjoyed the breakfast feast and got ready for the party, we boarded the carriage while I resisted the urge to keep her, dressed in her new dress, all to myself.
The party we were attending went smoothly. 
Since my birthday wasn’t widely known, the reactions I received from the people around me were as per usual. 
Elbert: Kate, I’ll go chat with the host for a little bit.
Kate: Alright. See you. 
Elbert: Be careful. Call for me immediately if anything happens. 
When I had to leave Kate’s side, a wave of regret washed over me. 
(If only I had made it known that it’s my birthday today.)
(That way… I can stay by Kate’s side the whole time.) 
Those were things I never would've thought of in the past. 
(If I think of it as something Kate brought into my life… perhaps this feeling of regret isn’t so bad.) 
(... I should go back to her as soon as possible.)
A few minutes after Elbert left Kate’s side, a soft voice spoke to her from behind.
Calm Elderly Woman: Are you the young lady Elbert is dating?
Kate: ! Yes, my name is Kate. Pardon my discourtesy, but may I ask who you are? 
Sharon: I’m Sharon, Elbert’s great-aunt. Sorry for approaching you all of a sudden. 
Kate: Great-aunt? A pleasure to meet you! I apologise for not greeting you sooner. 
Sharon: Fufu… no need to be so formal. I’m glad to finally meet you.
Kate: Would you like to speak to Lord Elbert? He’s currently with the host… 
Sharon: No, it’s fine. I made use of my connections to enter this party, that boy doesn’t know I’m here.
Sharon: He rarely shows his face at social events on his birthday… I’m a little worried about him. 
Kate: Huh…? 
Sharon: Elbert’s father held birthday parties for him in his childhood. He only showed his face once.
Sharon: Although his mother was still alive back then, she would always stay in her room and never attended. 
Sharon: I heard that he collected beautiful things, so I gave him several frames of pressed flowers. 
Sharon: That boy looked overjoyed when he received them, however… he wore a pained look on his little face when he returned to the party. 
Sharon: After that happened… I finally understood. 
Sharon: There was not a single present that boy could accept as a celebration of his birth. 
Kate: … 
Sharon: After his mother’s passing, we were told not to give him any more birthday presents… and that was it.
Kate: … So that’s what happened. Um…
Kate: By any chance, did one of those framed pressed flowers include a blue poppy?
Sharon: Oh… you know about it?
Kate: Yes. It became a keepsake for Lord Elbert, myself, and… someone dear to us. So… 
Sharon: … I see. I’m glad it became something meaningful to him. 
Sharon: That boy’s facial expressions have become more pleasant than they used to be. I wonder if it’s because he now has someone like you by his side.
Sharon: I couldn't do anything for him because I live far away, so I’m not in the best position to say this, but…
Sharon: I wish you both happiness. 
After a complex conversation with the host, Elbert went to the balcony where Kate was waiting for him. 
Kate: Lord Elbert… have you finished your conversation?
Elbert: … Yeah.
(Did I… leave you at the party looking like this?) 
Even though her dress and accessories were personally chosen by me, I was momentarily stunned by how beautiful she looked standing at the balcony. 
Elbert: Sorry for leaving you alone. Did anyone bother you? Did you experience anything unpleasant?
Kate: I’m alright. Everyone was very kind. 
Kate: … It looks like someone has been going around telling everyone that I “belong to Lord Elbert” every day. 
Elbert: … That might've been me. … Or Al. 
Kate: Fufu. I’ve heard rumours about both of you.
Kate laughed and moved to stand closely next to me.
Kate: I met Great-aunt Sharon.
Elbert: ! … She came? That’s rare.
Elbert: She has always lived alone in a deserted lakeside mansion…  and was treated as an eccentric.
Elbert: But being around her makes it feel… a little easier to breathe.
Kate: I understand that feeling. 
Kate: … I heard from her that you’re not a fan of being celebrated. 
(Oh…)
It seemed that Kate had learned the reason why Crown was surprised in the morning at breakfast.
The day of my birth was the day my parents’ suffering began. 
I never felt that it deserved to be celebrated. 
And yet, I couldn't help but feel envious whenever I saw someone else's birthday being celebrated. 
(I wanted to be reborn so that I could feel happy from the bottom of my heart about being celebrated. But…)
Not wanting to dull Kate’s facial expression, I spoke.
Elbert: Kate, but now— 
Kate: You think that you’re genuinely happy… right?
Elbert: eh…
Elbert: How did you know? 
Kate: While waiting for you, I thought about Crown’s surprised looks this morning.
Kate: They were surprised because of your smile when I said “happy birthday”. 
Kate: For sure, it was a different facial expression than your usual one.
Kate: You smiled because you were genuinely happy to receive the birthday greeting. 
(... I’m no match for Kate, aren’t I.)
There wasn’t a trace of sorrow in her affectionate smile. 
She must've been hiding it, knowing how much I hated seeing her feel hurt. 
Elbert: Yeah… you’re right.
(It's because you allowed me to be reborn.) 
Elbert: Today, I think I feel genuinely happy about being celebrated. 
Kate: … That’s great. I’m glad to hear that, Lord Elbert. 
(Yeah, look at you.) 
(You smile like that, looking truly happy when I’m happy.) 
Her kindness and warmth made me want to tear up from how much I loved her. 
I pulled her into a tight hug, the warm body of my beloved fitting snugly in my arms. 
Elbert: I wonder if I can just take you away right now for the night. 
Kate: … Even though the party is still ongoing? 
Elbert: Yeah… I don’t want to let you out of my embrace anymore. 
Kate: Fufu. Still, it’d be hard to leave the party venue like this. 
Elbert: Not if… I do this.
Kate: Kyaa…! 
I lifted Kate in a princess carry and carried her back to the party venue from the balcony. 
Kate: Lord Elbert…? 
I looked around the venue and called out to a server I saw.
Elbert: Can you call me a carriage?
Server: Y-yes. Right away…! 
The server blushed and hurried off.
Amidst the buzzing of the guests surrounding us, the host approached with a surprised look.
(Oh, great. Saves me the trouble of searching for him.)
Elbert: Lord, thank you for today’s invitation. I apologise, but we shall take our leave now.
Host: Are you leaving already? … Is your partner perhaps feeling unwell? 
Host: I can arrange a private room for her to rest if you’d like…
Elbert: No… she’s not unwell. I’m doing this because I want to.
Kate: …っ
Kate frowned in embarrassment at my honest response.
The sight of her ears turning red was adorable. 
Host: I- I see. Please pardon my discourtesy. But it’s a pity… you went through the trouble of attending, after all.
Elbert: Sorry. I’ll compensate you another time. 
(Oh, right… I might as well tell him now, since this is a rare chance.)
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Elbert: This is because it’s my birthday today.
Host: … Huh!?
Kate: Lord Elbert…
(It’s a special day you redefined for me.)
I dropped a gentle kiss on Kate’s lips to convey that to her.
Kate’s shoulders trembled slightly at the touch, but she accepted my feelings along with the kiss. 
Elbert: I want to spend my birthday with the person who means the world to me. 
Everyone present turned red like Kate.
The host apologised frantically for not knowing it was my birthday and escorted us to the carriage.
Elbert: It's a relief I didn't have to do much to convince them, although I don’t understand why everyone was blushing.
Kate: … That’s because you said such sweet words while doing something a prince would do.
Kate: That would… make anyone's heart race.
(Prince… sweet words… did I seem that way?) 
I thought I was just being my usual greedy self, but I let it slide.
Elbert: Does that mean it made your heart race too, Kate? 
Kate: … Yes, my heart was beating like crazy. Ah, but this doesn't mean you should do that whenever we go somewhere, okay?
Elbert: … I can’t?
Kate: You can't. … My heart won’t be able to take it. 
Elbert: Fufu.
As I held her on my lap and rested my cheek against her head, a warmth spread in my chest again… and then came the slight feeling of thirst. 
I want, I want. A desire started stirring in my heart.
Elbert: … I want to receive your present soon.
Kate: I’ll give it to you when we return to the castle. Bear with it a little bit more, okay? 
Elbert: I want you too after that.
Kate: … That’ll also have to wait till we return to the castle…
Elbert: Kate… I want a kiss right now.
Kate: … That’s fine, of course. 
Kate: Happy birthday, Lord Elbert.
I closed my eyes and received a celebratory kiss that was so blissful—, 
I found myself having the seemingly foolish thought of how I wished it would be my birthday again tomorrow. 
186 notes · View notes
lovelyjj · 3 months ago
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Gender Reveal
jj maybank x reader
reader and jj are in their early twenties
wc: 1.1k
a/n: I got this idea from watching gender reveal tiktoks.
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When you first found out your were pregnant you were scared. You didn’t know what to think but you knew you weren’t ready to be a mom. You were too young. Then there was the fact that you had to tell your boyfriend JJ.
You were worried what he might think or say. You didn’t want him to be mad at you. But you did have to tell him and you eventually did.
Your period was late but you didn’t think you were pregnant. Then you remember the night you slipped up and didn’t use protection. This caused you to run out and buy a pregnancy test. When you returned home you were shaking.
You peed in a cup and stuck the stick in and silently prayed it was negative. You were also thankful JJ wasn’t home. After you set it on the bathroom counter you waited. After waiting three minutes you shakily flipped up the test.
Your eyes nearly popped out of your head, your heart stopped and you felt faint. Positive. Your whole life flashed before your eyes. You with a baby. You bought three tests so you took another test. And another. All three of them were positive.
This is where you broke down crying. You were so overwhelmed you didn’t know what to do. Tears slid down your face as you sobbed. This couldn’t be happening. You were always so careful.
The front door opened and you started to panic. You sucked it up and wiped your tears.
“Baby? Where are you?” JJ called out.
You took a deep breath, “I’m in here!” you yelled.
JJ made his way over to you. Once he reached the bathroom he asked, “Hey, what are you doing in here?”
“Oh um, just blowing my nose,” you sniffed.
“Wait have you been crying?” JJ showed concern.
“Oh um yeah.” JJ noticed your eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“There is something I have to tell you.” You took JJ’s arms in your hands and led him into your shared bedroom.
“Sit on the bed please.”
JJ sat down as you paced in front of him. You figured you better tell JJ right away so you can think of your options together. There was no use in hiding it. You also figured there would be no way you could keep this big of a secret.
“Y/N, you’re scaring me.” JJ voiced.
“Ok, I’m just going to say it.”
“You’re killing me.”
“Ok Ok, um Im pregnant.” You blurted out.
“What?” JJ didn’t think he heard you correctly.
“I’m pregnant.”
“Come again?”
“JJ, I’m pregnant.” You let out a laugh of hysteria.
“You- you’re- you’re- pregnant? pregnant pregnant?”
“Yes. Pregnant pregnant,” you responded.
JJ’s face morphed into shock. He couldn’t believe his ears. Now, JJ has always thought about his future with you. He knew you were the one. He always wanted to start a family with you. Not for a few more years but hey he will take it. He couldn’t be happier.
“We’re having a baby?” JJ whispered.
You cracked a smile, “Yeah.”
“We’re having a baby!” JJ shouted and he picked you up and spun you around. He then gave you a passionate kiss on the lips.
“I didn’t think you would be this happy,” you commented.
“I’m ecstatic!”
“I can’t believe it, we are gonna be parents!” JJ said enthusiastically.
“You’re not scared?” You asked.
“I mean of course I am but I know we will be ok. I know you will be a great mother.”
“You really think so?”
“I know so.” JJ smiled.
“Well I know you’d be an excellent dad,” you stroked a hand through his hair.
JJ’s eyes filled with tears. He was getting choked up. He couldn’t believe he was going to start a family with the love of his life.
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Throughout your whole pregnancy JJ has been an angel. Each doctor appointment he was right there with you. He was kind and considerate and always making sure you had everything you needed.
You were far enough along to know the gender of the baby. You decided to have a big reveal party with all your friends and family. Kiara found out the gender and set everything up. She bought the confetti poppers with the correct color and everything.
When you were getting ready for the party you asked JJ, “What do you want a boy or a girl?”
“I just want a healthy baby, I will be happy ether way.”
“Come on tell me what you want,” You pressed.
“A little girl would be nice but a baby boy would be cool too.”
“I think it’s gonna be a girl,” you smiled.
“I just have a feeling.”
JJ put his hand on your bump and his other hand on your waist. “I’m so excited,” he said.
Eventually it was time for the party. All your friends and family were there. The backyard was decorated beautifully. Kiara did an amazing job. There was food and presents and pink and blue everything.
After everyone gathered around the two of you it was time for the gender reveal. There was nerves bubbling inside you as well as anticipation. You and JJ were both holding one confetti rocket.
Then everyone started to count down.
“Five.”
“Four.”
“Three.”
“Two.”
“One.”
You and JJ pulled on the rockets and blue confetti burst out of the tubes. You screamed and JJ engulfed you in a huge hug. Everyone was cheering and clapping for you guys.
“I’m gonna be a boy dad!” JJ shouted.
“I can’t believe we are going to have a son.” You gushed.
Then JJ did something you didn’t expect. He started tearing up.
“Aw baby, it’s ok.” You held his face in your hands and rubbed your thumb under his eye.
“I’m just so happy.” JJ exclaimed.
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Later that night you and JJ were laying in bed. JJ was rubbing your stomach as you two were cuddling.
“Did I ever tell you how I think you’re gonna be the best mom ever.” JJ started.
“No but thank you,” you smiled.
“You know we can start buying cute little onesies and things like that,” you thought out loud.
“You bet we can. How you feeling mama?”
“Tired but happy,” you smiled.
With the baby on the way the two of you slipped into a feeling of bliss and happiness. You were both over the moon and lucky to have found each other. You were soulmates and now you were starting a family. Life couldn’t get any better.
262 notes · View notes
steventhusiast · 11 months ago
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STWG daily prompt 9/12/23
prompt: barbie
pairing/character(s): steddie, stobin
transfemme!stevie has my heart ngl
-
Stevie's been out to Eddie for a few months when her birthday comes around. And she's anticipating a... Depressing day, if she's honest.
The only people that know are Eddie and Robin. To everyone else, she's still a guy. So she anticipates all the masculine gifts; cologne, clothes she won't wear, gag gifts from the kids about her being their dad.
And that part of her birthday is depressing. She sits through a lunch-time barbecue with the party and Eddie holds her hand out of view of everyone else so she can squeeze it every time something is said that makes her want to bawl her eyes out. Like how Mike keeps making jokes about how her hair's starting to be too long to look good, and Dustin keeps asking why she's wearing so many layers in July, and everyone keeps calling her the birthday boy, and son, and Steve-
She's happy to go home, is the point. Expects to spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch with Eddie who will no doubt spend the rest of his night feeding her words of affirmation about how she's his girl and other ooey gooey feminine phrases he knows quell the knot in her stomach some.
What she doesn't expect is for Robin to be sat on the couch she wants to curl up on, a comically huge blanket in her hands and an equally comically large pile of gifts towered in front of the couch.
"Rob, what-" Stevie starts, eyebrows raising involuntarily. She looks to Eddie, who has a small, proud smile on his face.
"Happy birthday, dingus!" Robin cheers. A party popper seems to have materialised in her hand out of nowhere, and Stevie can't help the laugh that's shocked out of her when it pops loudly.
"Go get changed into something more Stevie, okay, my love? It's time for your real birthday." Eddie says into her ear.
A sudden well of emotion builds up inside her at the words, at how lovely her boyfriend and best friend are, at the thought of how much they must have spent to buy her these gifts. She sniffs harshly to keep tears from falling, nods, and goes to her and Eddie's room without a word.
She considers getting straight into sweats in case she falls asleep in the living room, but knows she needs to feel feminine right now. Needs to see who she is reflected on the outside as well as the inside so she doesn't feel so... Wrong for the rest of the night. She slips into a comfortable pink day dress with a wrap front (an incredibly willing donation from Robin's closet) and doesn't give herself any time to scrutinise her figure in the mirror. Just brushes her hair out of its more masculine style of being pushed back, and into something softer that frames her face.
When she reenters the living room, Robin is still sat on the couch with the blanket, and Eddie is crouched down by the pile of gifts, murmuring to himself as he picks through them. Robin's laughing at him, and Stevie's chest feels warm in their presence.
"Hey! There's the birthday girl." Eddie grins when he sees her, and then looks back down at the gift pile to select a box-shaped one that's wrapped in purple polka-dot paper.
Stevie sits next to Robin, and tilts her head to rest on her shoulder as she watches her boyfriend make a sound of celebration when he holds up the gift.
"I was gonna save this gift for last, but after that shitshow I just- here, babygirl." He holds it out to Stevie with a softer smile on his face (Robin calls it his Stevie Smile), and Stevie takes it with gentle hands.
"It's from him and me, by the way. Don't let dingus 2 take all the credit." Robin adds on. Eddie just rolls his eyes and nods, and then starts to talk as Stevie carefully tears the wrapping paper. She's trying to preserve it as much as she can. Wants to keep as much evidence of her first birthday as herself as she can.
"I hope we got the right one. It was kinda hard to find, but I went to a bunch of flea markets and I remember you talking about how when you were younger you wanted it but your mom wouldn't let you and-"
Eddie cuts himself off when Stevie finally tears enough wrapping paper away to see the beginnings of the Barbie logo and gasps. Tears are already brewing in her eyes, and maybe one or two drip onto the precious wrapping paper as she manages to slide it off to reveal-
"Ballerina Barbie." She whispers, staring down at the doll. Her hands are shaking a little, and she feels so incredibly wobbly and warm.
She can't believe Eddie remembers what she said about the moment she knew she wasn't a boy the way she was supposed to be. How her mom had snatched the toy out of her hands in the toystore and replaced it with a car set.
"Is it the right one?" Eddie asks after a moment, and Stevie lifts her head to see him chewing nervously on his lip.
Instead of speaking, she wordlessly gestures for him to join her and Robin on the couch and promptly throws an arm around each of them for a much needed cuddle.
"It's perfect." She says to both of them, and gets twin squeezes to each side. A couple more tears slip out as she looks at the pile of gifts she still has to go through, "I can't believe you guys did all this for me."
"We love you, Stevie-bee." Robin says simply. Like that explains everything. Like it makes perfect sense.
"Yeah, we gotta treat our girl the way she deserves." Eddie adds on.
And Stevie thinks that maybe it does make perfect sense. After all, she'd go the same length for either of them.
542 notes · View notes
3amfanfiction · 3 months ago
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Something something Johnny ends up dating, marrying, and starting a family with an American.
Their baby just had her first birthday and you had gone back home so your parents could see her.
It was the beginning of July and the firework stands were on almost every empty parking lot corner and dirt field around town.
You’d already had to cap Johnny out on buying any more. Your bank account was several hundred dollars lighter after your dad made the comment about how you didn’t really have firework restrictions here. It was pretty much a free for all when it came to how big the explosions were, just as long as you took it outside of city limits.
That day he dragged you to half of the booths in the city, baby girl happy as a clam in her stroller. Her eyes lit up at all the pretty colors on the boxes, the shiny wrappers, the way things would rattle as they were moved around.
You tried to set your foot down when Johnny started buying her fireworks of her own. Unfortunately the dual impact of two sets of MacTavish blue puppy dog eyes was too much to bear and you conceded to sparklers and poppers.
Baby girl didn’t have any idea what she was getting but seeing her da happy made her ecstatic. Chubby cheeks grinning up at you both, she babbled and shrieked in joy.
When you finally managed to get everything back to the house you all headed outside as the sun was beginning to set.
Johnny reached over and handed baby a popper, alright now sweet girl, yer gonna throw this, aye? Toss it as hard as ye can, right on ta the ground
He helped her throw the first one, you both watching her expression as it hit the ground with a sharp POP! and the smallest puff of smoke.
She jerked in surprise before comprehension dawned in her eyes. Turning to her da she demanded more! while holding her hand out expectantly.
He grins as he places another popper in her fist and she immediately throws it towards the ground as hard as she can. She lets out a squealing laugh as it explodes.
You turn to your husband how did I not realize our children are going to be just as enamored with explosions as you? he just beams at you while handing your daughter another popper.
Next || Story Repository
138 notes · View notes
valwrote · 11 months ago
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I had this set up after seeing how Satoru wears frigfing 250,000 yen shirts- wtf?
synopsis : Gojo Satoru. Someone who is filthy rich with a partner that bargains and demands discounts on every thing. (The inner Asian mom is showing itself.)
additonally: a birthday surprise in the end where yuuji accidentally pops a party popper on satoru's face + lovesick satoru.
a/n : happy late birthday to our favourite sweet consuming demon and dimples guy. ♡
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The tension in the room was palpatating.
Satoru watched as you had a stare off with the receptionist at the restaurant he had picked for you two's date.
"Hm...so you are telling me that for a table of two, you guys take ¥ 60,000 per person?" You stared at the guy who assigned seats to the visitors, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
"Yes ma'am, that's right." The man politely nodded despite your rather hostile attitude.
"But you say that kids under 5 eat for free?" You mused, tone softening a bit.
"Yes, that is correct." The receptionist nodded at you with a kind smile.
Silence.
"So you see Satoru right here is actually just 4 years old-" you started.
"Yes, I am- wait what!?" Satoru did a double take and stared at you with his jaw dropped.
Yeah, that's how his life was. Full of life, comedy and fundamentals of bargaining as you would rightfully call it. The number of incidents of you arguing with anyone and everyone for a discount never failed to entertain him.
For example : –
Satoru watched you in awe as you talk- no, argued with a fruit seller over the ridiculous prices.
"I can't believe this! ¥7500 (50 USD) for a single watermelon? What, is this watermelon made of gold or something?" You baffled at the price. That was seriously ridiculous.
"Miss, these are the best of their kind! They won't disappoint." The vendor defended, trying to list out the pros of the fruit.
"Sweets, you should just get it. ¥7500 is nothi-" Satoru was cut off by your stern look.
"Nothing!? That price is just unreasonable! I will not pay anymore than ¥6000." You huffed, crossing your arms in disapproval.
"Haha- miss if I started seeling things for THAT low, I will end up going bankrupt.. how about ¥7200?" The vendor nervously chuckled, not wanting to make you more angry. He also glanced at Satoru, hoping he would save him.
Satoru simply sighed. Messing with you right now would earn him a one way ticket to heaven.
"¥6800 and not a single more."
"...fine." the vendor grumbled, handing the fruit over to you.
You smiled triumphantly and took the watermelon before merrily walking off. Satoru stared at you with an amused expression while trailing you.
Truth be told, Satoru didn't care about bargaining. If he saw something he wanted, he could buy without sparing a glance on the price tag.
However seeing you bargain your way through life was the most amusing thing to him. He had both his heart and his credit card surrendered to you, yet you were adamant on not spending any more than necessary.
He still remembers the day you came home with a beaming smile on your face.
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"Satoru guess what!" You chimed, seemingly proud at what you had done.
"What is it sweets?" He looked up from whatever he was doing.
"I got so many clothes for such good price. Hehe those discount vouchers are a gift of God, I tell you!" You grinned and he just laughed.
"Seriously? How much did you save this time?" He chuckled, curious as to how much you saved.
"Well, the salesman was about to tell me the exorbitant price but I whipped out the discount vouchers and got 40% off." You smugly smiled, probably impressed with your own self.
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However, when it came to matters such as his birthday...
"Woah, what is this?" Satoru marveled at the sight of the decorations. Everyone was here. Nanami, Shoko, Yaga, the first and second years and you.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" All of you yelled in unison. Yuuji however, was struggling to open up the confetti popper and ended up shaking it so hard that it popped right on Satoru's face.
The man of the hour had confetti, both in his mouth and all over his face. Everyone laughed and some even snagged some pictures.
Satoru stood still for a second before his palm reached up to remove his blindfold which surprise surprise! Also got confetti stuck in it.
"Thanks- Yuuji." He said, blowing confetti out of his mouth, before smiling and chuckling at Yuuji.
Everyone later indulged in talking, eating and hanging out. The atmosphere was uplifting and heart swelling to see all your close ones enjoying themselves.
"So, how much discount did you get yourself on all this preparation?" You heard Satoru ask you. He was smiling brightly, so much so that his blue hues had smile line creases from his bright smile. You could even see his dimples.
Man, God was playing favourites while creating Satoru, that's for sure. Who knew the strongest sorcerer was deep inside just a gentle soul that needed love like everyone else?
"None." You smiled back at him
"Why so?" He asked, awaiting an answer.
"It's your birthday, silly. Price doesn't matter, you do." You booped his nose with you finger. You could see his ears turn red.
Satoru hated you. He hated how you would say such endearing this that would makes a puddle of mess from blushing. Just kidding, he loved you, with all his heart.
"Still..I could've saved so much money." You whined, earning a chuckle from him.
Nevermind. You never changed. He wasn't complaining though.
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gosh- me including so many people are in love with this guy. I wanna hold him in my palms.
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happy birthday satoru. You are so skrunkly
©definitelysel
not proof read. I wrote it on a whim.
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333 notes · View notes
katyawriteswhump · 3 months ago
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I hear your voice (and it carries me)
for @steddieangstyaugust day 17 prompt: 'Keep breathing, please."
Rating: M WC: 1700 CW Drug-use Tags: Established steddie, alternate canon season 4 (with details fudged and twisted for my own plotty purposes.)
What if Vecna came for Steve first, not Chrissy? (No actual death, I promise, just guilty-pleasure pop and major angst…)
...
Eddie climbed through the window that Dustin had left open and into Steve’s hospital room. His boots smacked too loud on the floor, and his every muscle tightened.
Steve was wired up to a series of bleeping machines. Plaster casts smothered three of his limbs. His neck was in a brace, and his face was half-lost beneath an oxygen mask.
Eddie knew, of course. Steve had arrived here in a far worse state than this. 
Still one helluva punch in the gut.
He tiptoed to the bed and located Steve’s Walkman, which had been dumped on a trolley. He slipped it back over Steve’s ears, careful not to disturb the mask. Dustin and Robin had played a showstopper in convincing Steve’s mom that Steve would want constant pop. 
Unfortunately, the medical staff kept taking the darn thing off.
Eddie didn’t switch the cassette on right away, however. He anxiously smoothed Steve’s hair.
“God, I’m sorry,” he said brokenly. “I panicked, Stevie. I was too fucking scared. I should’ve broken your fall, and I should never have let you… I… I shouldn’t have…” He pressed his lips to Steve’s cool, clammy brow. A fat tear dripped from his nose. “Keep breathing, Baby. Keep breathing, please.”
“CODE RED, I REPEAT THIS IS A CODE RED! EDDIE, DO YOU COPY?” 
Dustin’s yell blasted through Eddie’s walkie-talkie. Eddie scrambled to turn the volume down.
“Henderson, what the heck?”
“Eddie, the night nurse has started her rounds early. I repeat—she’s started her rounds early. You gotta get outta there NOW.”
One week earlier
Steve lay flat on his back on Eddie’s bed, shirtless, and with his jeans tangled round his knees. Eddie was sprawled on top of him—a smokin’ hot mess of sweat and hair—and kissing Steve stupid.
Steve should’ve been in a happy place. He was sucking Eddie’s face off, grinding himself up into Eddie, while Eddie pawed hungrily at his ass. Eddie wanted in, and Steve wanted nothing more than for Eddie to bone his brains out.
If only he could shake these stupid jitters.
Christ, the blood pounding in his ears drowned out the mega-loud Aerosmith track on his latest mixtape. He was also dog-tired, and sick of it. The nightmares had ruined his sleep for days.
And they were all total bull.
Yeah, Steve felt guilty about shit. Not only about Barb, though that was a biggie—there was so much he’d screwed up in his life. He sucked. He got it, blah, blah, blah.
No way was he buying into crazy hallucinations where Eddie yelled and hated on him. Let alone ones where Robin transformed into a squelchy tentacle monster. He was going out of his tiny mind. It was the only reasonable explanation, and the only answer right now was…
Eddie broke the kiss. “You okay, Babe? Still got a headache?”
“I’m fine.” Steve dabbed his lips, shivering because Eddie was too far away already. “I’ll be fine. Gimme more of the good stuff, okay?”
Eddie turned down the music. “Seriously? You mainlined poppers earlier—enough to lay low a daddy buffalo. That shit means business.”
“So I do. Stop being a freakin’ pussy.” Steve wedged his hand between Eddie’s thighs and purred. “I can totally handle it, and if I do turn to mush? Means I can take even more of this big boy.”
“I’m not sure, Stevie… Oh shiiiit.” 
Steve mercilessly squeezed Eddie’s dick, batted his lashes. Yeah, he’d beg if he had to. Anything to feel less tense and haunted, to feel he was actually in the room with Eddie. 
He never had to.
Eddie pulled a dopey face, started rummaging through his stuff. Steve dragged his jeans up with fumbling hands. He maxed out the stereo volume—snickering because Eddie was gonna literally piss himself when the track-after-next started—and wandered toward the kitchen to get more beer.
….
Eddie located a shoebox full of snazzy lil’ multicolor poppers and a sachet of Special K. Then his frazzled brain caught up with him.
He’s already had waaay too much. Okay, he’s still revved as fuck, but THAT’S NOT NORMAL.
He ditched the shoebox, grabbed a jar of Acetaminophen. After tipping all but two pills out, he peeled off the label. He’d tell Steve they were hardcore tranqs. Shifty, but… Screw it, he cared about Steve more than he’d ever cared about anyone. Yeah, Steve had bugged him for downers. Eddie should never have caved. He vowed, one way or another, he’d wean his boy off ’em.
He was, admittedly, launching his campaign the coward’s way. Had to start somewhere, right?
“There you go, Honey,” he said, wandering out. “Boneless bliss just moments away.”
Eddie stopped in his tracks. He dropped the jar. Steve stood motionless in the middle of the trailer. His eyes were lidded, twitchy with the occasional flash of white.
“Steve?” Eddie dashed forward, started shaking him. “Talk to me, Steve. Wake up! Can you hear me? I don’t like this, Stevie.”
Shit! He’s ODd already!
Eddie jostled him, pleaded with him. Right till the moment Steve levitated up into the air and smacked into the ceiling.
Eddie staggered back. The Black Sabbath track blasting from the stereo ended. Silence reigned.
One of Steve’s arms twisted the wrong way at the elbow and popped. Eddie screamed, then actually pinched himself, because this had to be a horrible dream, and then…
‘Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?
Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth’
Belinda Carlilse. Belinda fucking Carlilse. Yeah, Steve loved to sneak pop-tastic hits onto his mixtapes. Eddie would always crack up, plus he didn’t hate them either.
One of Steve’s legs contorted with a sickening snap.
‘They say in Heaven, love comes first
We'll make Heaven a place on Earth…’
Steve’s eyes flashed from white to brown. He fell, landing with a horribly crunching smack.
In the blur of the next few minutes, Eddie called an ambulance. He leaned close over Steve’s blue-ish lips, sensed the faintest warmth, though didn’t dare touch him. His eyes bled. He looked so… broken. Eddie prayed to some WASP deity he’d never believed in that he was the one having a really bad trip.
He went with Steve in the ambulance and held his limp hand on the ride. They’d already got that mask on his face, the brace around his neck. At the hospital, Eddie watched Steve’s gurney disappear through swinging doors. He collapsed in the waiting room, buried his face in his hands.
Steve’s parents arrived soon after. They joined the doctors in bombarding Eddie with thunderous glares, until the truth finally glimmered.
They believe I did that to him.
Even if… WHEN… Steve wakes up, they’ll say we were both high as fucking kites. They’ll blame the satan-worshipping freakshow.
Convinced the cops were on their way, Eddie fled via a fire escape. While he was holed up at Reefer Ric’s, two teens were murdered. The whole town now believed Eddie was the monster behind those crimes, too.
“Way to go making a play for the FBI’s Most Wanted list,” Dustin said, when he brought Eddie supplies. “If you hadn’t run, those deaths would’ve got you off the hook. Not that you’re exactly innocent. You know your fun-time sweeties repressed Steve’s breathing as badly as the neck injuries? Sent him into that coma?”
“Wow, you’re a real genius! Never dawned on me. Oh, hold on. IT’LL TORTURE ME EVERY GODDAMN MOMENT, OF EVERY FREAKIN’ DAY, FOR THE REST OF MY CURSED LIFE.”
At least the kid had a theory about the attacks, supernatural sorcery shit that blew Eddie’s mind. Also, one of Dustin’s friends, Max, was apparently lined up to be the next victim. For some wild reason, the only thing keeping the killer at bay was endless Kate Bush.
“Eddie,” asked Dustin, while Eddie stared into a box of Cap’n Crunch he’d literally no appetite for. “Is there any music you reckon might help Steve?”
‘In this world we're just beginnin'
To understand the miracle of livin'’
Steve was beyond sick of Belinda.
She ebbed and flowed through his consciousness pretty much constantly. Trouble was, whenever she was randomly gone, as she was now, the swirling red fog around him thickened. He was confused, and yeah, he was frightened. He’d not heard any squelching footsteps or booming synth voices lately, but he sensed that thing was still out there.
He occasionally heard talking. People poked and prodded him, and breathing was sometimes a scary battle. He tried to talk himself once or twice, but he couldn’t even open his eyes. He was lost and sick and hurting and… so lost.
Right until he felt somebody stroking his hair. Then a moist feather-soft brush on his brow. 
Eddie.
He’d recognise Eddie’s kiss anywhere, whether rough or dumbass levels of sweet. Eddie was here. Eddie was with him. Steve strove harder than ever to fight free of the choking fog.
“Keep breathing, Baby.”
Eddie’s voice. Broken and distant, but it was him.
“Keep breathing,” Eddie whispered, “please.”
“CODE RED, I REPEAT THIS IS A CODE RED! EDDIE, DO YOU COPY?” 
Steve’s blood literally jumped. Shit, was that Henderson? “Eddie, the night nurse has started her rounds early. I repeat—she’s started her rounds. You gotta get outta there NOW.”
Too much. Steve’s head was too muddled, he didn’t understand. He finally fluttered his eyes open and latched his blurry focus onto Eddie. Who startled like a coyote bit his butt. Steve would’ve laughed, if he’d gotten the lung power.
“Steve? Steve!”
Eddie seemed spooked. Steve’s heart rate skyrocketed. He was in a hospital bed. He’d got some weird plastic mask thing on his face. When he tried to lift his arm, pain lanced hotly. 
Oh God, oh God!
He fixed on Eddie and felt himself calm a little. “Please,” he murmured, his voice a barely-there rasp. “Don’t go.”
Eddie squeezed Steve’s hand and smiled gently. “Not if I can help it, darlin’.”
Steve faintly registered a door flying wide. A voice cried out, echoed by a wailing alarm. He somehow found the strength to grip Eddie’s fingers, even as Belinda Carlisle launched up in his ears again:
‘Baby, I was afraid before
But I'm not afraid anymore…’
Eddie’s hand was torn away from Steve’s loosening grip, and Steve slipped back into the fog.
...
(Steve is okay, Vecna got distracted and El whipped his ass anyway, then Eddie get off, and it all ended happily... promise!) You tube link to 'heaven is a place on earth' for other 80s pop obsessives
Thanks for reading! All my ST fic on AO3
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buypoppersnow · 4 months ago
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Diving into the World of English Poppers and PWD Poppers: A Comprehensive Guide to Enhancers and Recreational Aromas
In the realm of enhancers and recreational aromas, English poppers and PWD poppers stand out as popular choices among users seeking heightened experiences. These potent substances have garnered a dedicated following for their unique effects and sensory enhancements. Join us as we explore the fascinating world of these poppers, delving into their origins, characteristics, effects, and where to find them. Understanding English Poppers: English poppers, also known as alkyl nitrites, have a rich history dating back to the 1960s when they first gained popularity in nightclubs and discotheques. These aromatic liquids are commonly inhaled for their vasodilating effects, which result in muscle relaxation and an intensified sensory experience. Varieties such as Jungle Juice, Amsterdam, and Rush are well-known within the English poppers category, each offering unique scents and potencies. Exploring PWD Poppers: PWD poppers, a prominent player in the poppers market, have earned a reputation for their strong formulation and enduring effects. Originating from the iconic brand "PWD" (Pac West Distributing), these poppers boast potent blends that cater to users seeking powerful sensory stimulation. With variants like Hardware, Bolt, and Super Rush, PWD poppers deliver a punch that leaves a lasting impression on those who indulge in their aromatic allure.
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The Potency Factor: One of the distinguishing features between English poppers and PWD poppers lies in their potency levels. While English poppers are renowned for their balanced effects and gradual onset, PWD poppers are often favored by experienced users looking for an intense and immediate rush. Consumers need to understand their tolerance levels and preferences when selecting between these two categories to ensure a safe and enjoyable experience. Safety First: Responsible Use and Precautions: As with any recreational substance, responsible use of English poppers and PWD poppers is crucial to mitigate potential risks and adverse effects. It is recommended to start with small doses and gradually increase as needed while always prioritizing personal well-being. Additionally, users should be mindful of proper ventilation when inhaling poppers to prevent overexposure and minimize any respiratory discomfort. Where to Buy Authentic English Poppers and PWD Poppers: When it comes to buy English poppers and PWD poppers, sourcing from reputable retailers is paramount. Online platforms and specialty stores that adhere to quality standards and legal regulations offer a reliable avenue for acquiring genuine products. Prioritizing product authenticity and user safety ensures a positive experience with English poppers and PWD poppers.
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In Conclusion: The allure of English poppers and PWD poppers continues to captivate users seeking enhanced sensory experiences and recreational thrills. By understanding the nuances between these two categories, consumers can make informed decisions based on their preferences and desired effects. Whether exploring the aromatic depths of English poppers or immersing in the potent realm of PWD poppers, responsible use, and awareness remain key pillars in maximizing the benefits of these captivating enhancers.
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soapywankenopy · 6 months ago
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SDV car headcannons
[this gets pretty specific because i've had way too much time to think about it]
1. Harvey
Harvey drives an old, beat-up red Ford Ranger. It's a standard transmission, and the clutch is super finicky, so when he tries to drive other cars, he has a bad habit of shoving in the clutch too hard (or if it's an automatic, slamming on the break, thinking it's the clutch). It was a gift from his parents when he started med school. It was old when they bought it, but Harvey does his best to maintain it. He's not a "truck guy," but he changes his own oil and keeps it running well. He would like to buy a Subaru because quote, "they're very safe cars," but he doesn't use his truck a lot as it is, so he doesn't see a need to get a new car.
2. Leah
Leah drives a silver Subaru Baja. You can not convince me otherwise. She views cars as a necessary evil. It wasn't really all that useful in the city, but she's glad to have it now that she lives in Pelican town. It's well-loved, and it's pretty beat-up, but Leah says it works fine for what she needs it for.
3. Shane
He drives a 1999 Ford Taurus in that weird pinky-gold color. It smells like pizza and pepper poppers, and there are feathers in the backseat. Sometimes, he'll let Jas sit on his lap in the driver's seat and let her steer while he works the pedals. Mayor Lewis caught them once and was not happy. Shane does it anyway because it makes Jas happy.
4. Sebastian
He drives a motorcycle, lol. I admittedly do not know very much about motorcycles, but it looks like a blue Kawasaki Vulcan to me, but idk. (If you know more about motorcycles, feel free to give your two cents)
5. Sam
Sam does not have his own car, but he frequently borrows the family van. It's a silver 2003 Honda Oddysey. The van lands him with driver duty for the band and their equipment.
6. Elliott
Elliott disagrees with cars ideologically. He had a grey 2004 Mitsubishi Outlander that he inherited from his aunt. He sold it before he moved to Pelican town. He thinks it's more romantic to walk everywhere, but if you ask him why he walks everywhere, he'll say, "Because of the environment."
7. Penny
Penny doesn't drive. Pam tried a million times to teach her, but Penny just doesn't want to. She doesn't trust herself with such heavy machinery.
8. Maru
Maru does not have a car but will borrow Robin's work truck if she needs to. Sebastian definitely taught her how to ride a motorcycle. One of her many ongoing projects is a custom bike for Sebastian. Demetrius was very insistant that she learned to drive stick.
9. Abigail
Abigail does not know how to drive. Pierre was too busy, and Caroline never felt the need to teach her. She's happy to explore by foot, so it doesn't really bother her.
10 & 11. Emily & Haley
Their parents bought them a 2012 light green Toyota Prius to share. Haley thinks it's cute and Emily likes that it's a hybrid. Haley says eventually she might buy a blue Volkswagen Bug.
12. Alex
Alex doesn't drive and it's a sore subject for him. Don't bring it up. He might end up crying. He's always said that he would want a green Dodge Charger as soon as he learns to drive.
I have more headcannons about the other characters, so I may put them in another post
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aois-amaterasu-painting · 2 months ago
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Aoi Twitter 2022 (+bonus Tsuchinoko tweets):
2021 July 26: "This year, I was able to meet up with Tsuchinoko without any issues, and it seems like Uruha-san's fans are getting more used to it. From now on, I might have to call it the 'shy blue-tongued skink blog,' but that’s so long - I really don’t wanna! #ItHasBeenUpdated"
2021 July 27 Ruki: "It's the blog of our rumored Tsuchinoko lead guitarist. 🦆"
2022 Feb "Th-there's Tsuchinokoーーー! With a photooo! For more details, go to my profile! #UruhaBlogGotUpdated
2022 Mar 26 Uruha: "I’ve started Twitter to commemorate our 20th anniversary. Everyone, please continue to support us. Let's make the tour even more exciting!!"
2022 Mar "Wait, hold on a second. Could this be the Tsuchinoko guy? 🤔"
Uruha QT: "I'm not a Tsuchinoko! LOL"
Reita QT: "Ah, he's on Twitter… You can't call him Tsuchinoko anymore! 🤘🏻"
Uruha QT: "Ah, that's the thing that matters!"
2022 Feb "Right now, I have this overwhelming urge to grow my hair super long. To put it simply, I want to look like Rapunzel."
2022 Mar "I really like Ruki's delicate sense of aesthetics."
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2022 May "And just between us, I missed the timing for a song and when I got back to the dressing room, Uruha was grinning and said, 'Nice arrangement 🤩👍'. Before heading to the venue tomorrow, I'm going to stop by the 100-yen shop to buy some joke glasses and party poppers. I’m going to tease him big time when he messes up. Just you wait."
Uruha QT: "I just returned the favor since you always say it to me 🫶."
Aoi QT: ( ˘ω˘🫶 )
2022 May HBD My bro.🧁
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2022 May "Fukuoka, I’m back. And thank you. I won’t say anything more today. Once again, happy birthday, Reita 🎂."
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2022 Jun "Nagoya, I’m back! Ruki and Kai also mentioned it, but we’re really feeling like a band more than ever. Sometimes things don’t go perfectly, but being able to turn our ‘want to play’ into ‘getting to play’ is a blessing. I’ve got some unfinished work, so I’ll head back early, but let’s hang out again soon ✊Thank you, Nagoya."
2022 Jun "Good morning 🙌 Let’s have a great day today. I have just one job for you all—cheer me on!!!"
2022 Jun "I couldn’t figure out one of the trending Visual Kei quiz questions. But of course, that makes sense. After all, I am a being that transcends the boundaries of the Visual Kei genre itself 🍷."
2022 Jun "I mean, Seikima-II is releasing a new album, so I won’t be able to sleep until the release day. It brings back memories of being scared by my brother at the beginning of 'House of Wax' when I was in elementary school. I’m so excited 🙌."
2022 Jun HBD URUHA🍰🎉🥸
2022 Jun "Thank you, Sagami-Ono. Live shows are just the best, aren’t they? Looks like I’m going to have some good dreams tonight. Let’s hang out again soon 🙌."
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2022 Jun Reita: "Take this as a souvenir for the afterlife. The residents of Shimote"
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2022 July "But then again, wanting to peek into someone else’s romance might be human folly, so perhaps it’s better if it stays hidden behind the clouds. Since the universe doesn’t cloud over, I’d like to think that’s better for the two of them. (Serious face)"
2022 July "What exactly is a fan meeting? I've been pondering this for almost 20 years now. The hardest part is whether I can properly convey my gratitude to everyone. I'm not very good at expressing myself. Just thinking about it gives me a stomachache, so I've been wondering for the past two hours if it's finally time to use some of my paid leave. What do you think? 🤔"
2022 Aug "Good morning ☀︎ I watched the 20th ANNIVERSARY -HERESY- video that arrived last night this morning. That day really was the best. I hope you're all looking forward to it 😌 I think it airs on 8/11."
2022 Sep "Ah, I looked amazing again today. I might end up charming everyone without meaning to, so please forgive me."
2022 Sep Reita "But you all have nowhere to go because I won’t take my eyes off you. But starting today, since we’re having rehearsal, I’ll have to look away for a bit 🫣"
Aoi QT: Yes, Fallen in love.
2022 Sep: "After the fan meeting, I’ve been putting all my effort into preparing for this day. I played my guitar with everything I had—my fingertips are torn, my hair is in disarray, and I played with single-minded focus. What you see here is the culmination of my efforts. Thank you, everyone. On the first day of band rehearsal, I’ve completed this 02 tour. The rest is up to you... Have goods dreams... (:3 」 ∠) The end."
2022 Sep: "Huh? The 02 tour hasn't started yet? More importantly, I can't get out of my head how Uruha kept smirking and saying, 'Aoi-san has a lot of solos this time, doesn’t he?' If the tour starts like this, my frail heart will surely burst. So, with that, adiós... (|3 」 ∠)."
Uruha QT: "No, that’s not it! I was just jealous 🤗"
Aoi QT: "I have more than usual compared to previous times. Uta-ma has as many as usual. So there's no need to be jealous ( 🫶˘ω˘ )"
2022 Sep: "I'm getting closer to achieving the sound I want day by day, but on the other hand, there's the dilemma of having sounds I've prepared but hardly ever use. I'm trying to sound like a musician here, but tweaking presets is risky and a hassle, though if it works out, it’s worth it. It’s frustrating."
2022 Sep: "That aside, the truth is, we're basically Sailor Moon, so we really need to get that thing today. Was it 'Tsukimi has changed and it's delicious'? That's a clever line. Well then, I'm off to the studio🙌."
2022 Sep: "Ugh, that sauce had an unpleasant flavor. And can you stop putting up pictures of me looking like a cross-dressing old guy holding something vulgar?"
2022 Sep: "We had a really good rehearsal today ◎ I've slimmed down a bit, so look forward to it 🫣 P.S. I think our new uniforms are really comfortable. Hmm... 🤔"
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2022 Sep: "Sorry for the late hour. Listening to this again now, I recall the emotions I had when I composed those phrases back then, and it makes me feel a bit embarrassed but also proud. 😌 When you type '20 years,' it's just three characters and a brief moment, but it was an irreplaceable time."
2022 Sep: "When I think about it, during those 20 years, we were a part of so many people's youth. In a few decades, let's look back on those days together in a retirement home 🤘 Well, good night."
2022 Oct: "Just between us, one of my acoustic guitars isn't working well, so I'm borrowing Uta-ma's guitar. I plan to return it in better condition than when I borrowed it ┏○)) The Kobe performance will start in about 45 minutes. Please look only at me."
2022 Oct: "Great job in Kobe! I still believe the latest is the best. It might sound self-serving, but when the band is at its best, the results follow. It was that kind of night. Everyone in Kobe, let's hang out again 🙌 Next up, Kagoshima—wait for us! 💪"
2022 Oct: "Hey ✋ From what I remember, the highlights of yesterday were REITA trying to stomp on my Achilles tendon, and the person on the right side of the stage inching closer, making little adjustments, as if they wanted to have their back against mine 😪."
2022 Oct Reita: "Worship us, who have descended upon Kagoshima."
Aoi QT: "So, it's not written in katakana…?"
Reita QT: "Revere us, for we have descended upon Kagoshima…"
2022 Oct: "Kobe and Kagoshima were so much fun, but it seems I was really tired. I slept for about 10 hours like I melted 🫠. I overslept, so I’m heading back with messy hair. Please don’t look at me."
2022 Oct: "U: 'Huh? You don't get it? The answer is peanuts!' A & K: (Writhing in stomach pain and dying peacefully) By the way, 'peanut' is the Japanese name, you know. That’s it from the backstage about 10 minutes before the performance.┏○))"
Uruha QT: "Stop it! ❗️lol I just said that instead of nitpicking, it's better to build up your virtues, which will then contribute to the success of the live show—didn't you just say that yourself? 😫"
Aoi QT: "Just between you and me, you were the one who said that, and I only replied, 'Yeah, that's right.' 😲 To be honest, from the way it's written, it doesn't even sound like something I would say…"
2022 Oct: "Great job, Fenice 🫶 By the third song, the volume pedal—the 'one that controls everything'—went crazy, and I ended up making a face like 'dafuq' It’s probably a curse because I couldn’t find the right pedal before the show and settled for this one instead. 'Punished,' just like the drumsticks. Please accept this as my humble offering."
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2022 Oct: "I got a little caught up preparing for tomorrow, but once again, HBD KAI 🍪"
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2022 Oct Reita: "I have returned from hell to annihilate the carefree fools."
Aoi QT: "Please accept this offering (┐「ε:)【ヲ】"
2022 Oct "It’s been a while since I decided to grow out my hair like Tatsuro’s long locks. Right now is the hardest period, where styling is the most difficult. But I endured this morning, believing it will get easier once I push through. By the way, I mean Yamashita Tatsuro."
2022 Nov: "The moon is amazing 😲"
2022 Nov "I was planning to grow my hair long enough to braid it and use it as a jump rope, but I'm starting to lose motivation. I'm always shouting in my head, 'So annoying! Ugh, so annoying!'"
2022 Nov Reita: "The day after tomorrow, we’ll be in Koriyama for the first time in a while. Next up is BEAUTIFUL DEFORMITY. Let me post a picture of myself from back then. I wonder which generation REITA this was, since now I’m the 8th generation… I keep dying and reincarnating all the time ☠️"
Aoi QT: "Back then, we were like razors, weren’t we? You were the 'Kami' and I was the 'Sori'."
(*TN. Play on words. "Kami" (カミ) means "god" or "hair," and "Sori" (ソリ) means "razor" or "shaving.")
Reita QT: "Now, both are gods"
2022 Nov: "Thank you, Utsunomiya. Each show is special, and because of that, I didn’t want to ruin it with my own lack of skill. MASS has been that kind of tour for me, but it's entirely because of my own shortcomings. Not writing anything would only make everyone worried, but right now, I can’t find the right words. For now, before the day changes, I just want to say thank you for today. Thank you."
Ruki QT: "Personally, today was a day where I gave it my all, but there are still plenty of times when I feel frustrated like this. It’s proof of how serious we are about each and every live show. But the strength of a band lies in how we each cover those frustrations, come together, and help each other grow. And I believe that every challenge we overcome allows us to grow even more. 🔥"
Aoi QT: "Hey, stop it. I wasn’t expecting this, and now I can’t read because my vision’s all blurry.."
2022 Nov: "To be honest, I was scared today. Even though it's my own fault, it felt like a bit of a hurdle to stand in front of everyone. But it looked like everyone accepted me and had a great time. Thank you. Let’s have fun again! By the way, Reita's chest wasn’t my type."
Reita QT: "How rude to grope it without permission, right? 💕 But you know, it can be surprisingly addictive 😘
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i-promise-i-am-not-on-drugs · 5 months ago
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(The good ending we deserve AU: )
— Boris ended up buying an appartement less than 1km away from Hobbie's, and he lives there when he's in NY, which is becoming the norm these days.
— Theo has a key to Boris's appartement (obviously) and he use it when Boris's not here. He likes Boris's appartement. It has a calm and cozy vibe to it, and Boris always had the best blankets anyway. (It feels safe. It feels like home. It feels like Boris's arms around him after he had night terrors, in LA.)
— After Theo and Kitsey officially broke up, she and Tom "started to" date each other. They ended up breaking up not too long after that, as she discovered that Tom was cheating on her and using her for her family's money and her body.
— Pippa and Theo had another talk about their feelings for each others. They agreed on staying good friends, and Theo promised her to try and become friends with Everett. They actually get along pretty well.
— Hobbie convinced Theo to try to see a therapist. The therapist diagnosed him with a huge depression, internalized homophobia, and suicide idealisation. They are working on it, slowly but surely.
— Hobie and Theo are trying to convince Boris to go to therapy too, it isn't going anywhere for now. Boris doesn't like to talk about his problems, and even less having to pay for it.
— Theo is going to detox therapy for drugs and cigarettes. Not for alcohol thought. He recently managed to convince Boris to do it with him.
— Pippa and Boris meet each other by chance in a bar and didn't realize that they where "the one Theo was talking about". They went along pretty well.
Weeks later, they meet again at Hobbie's because Theo wanted them to meet each other, and they went "HEY! I know you!!" and started laughing, and Theo was just so confused.
— Boris came back to NY after a 3 weeks long travel, and while he walked to a bus stop not too far from the airport, he saw a cardboard box with "free" written on it. Of course, he crossed the road to see what was inside the box. And he saw a small white pup, looking at him with it's big and sad brown puppy-eyes. Boris has a soft heart for animals, dogs and cats especially, but this one somehow made him think of Popchyk. And he just couldn't leave this little guy here in the middle of winter, could he?
— Theo loved Popchyk, and he was absolutely devastated when he died. (Of course he was. Popchyk was another living being in Theo's life who missed Boris, and that was a comforting though. Even if he was only a dog.) When Boris entered his appartement with a small puppy in his arms that looked at him with the same look Popper used to have, Theo couldn't help but feel like his little gay-looking dog came back to life, somehow.
— They agreed to name the pup Popchyk Jr., in honor and memory of Popchyk.
— Boris and Theo's relationship is... Complicated, to say at least. They pretty much live together, they have a dog, they sleep in the same bed. They like to cuddle while reading, watching the TV or just talking. They cook, eat, and do the dishes together, and they split the chores. They also have sex together sometime, and they kiss. Just because they can.
But they don't talk about the implications of any of that.
And maybe they should.
But for now, it's fine. They're both happy with how things are between them.
(Maybe one day, they will have enough courage and mental stability to put words on what they are. And maybe, these words will be "life partner", or even "soulmate". Not today, and probably not tomorrow either. But one day. They will.)
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slamminslamminmcgill · 2 years ago
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Practicar - Lalo Salamanca/FTM Reader (NSFW!)
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when you bought weed from tuco, one of his guys said something rude to you in spanish. one thing he said sticks with you, so you ask lalo about it when you get home. he tells you what it means, and decides to teach you some more of the language while smoking up.
tags/warnings: intoxication (weed and poppers), homophobic/transphobic slurs, degradation/humiliation, hair-pulling, rough oral sex, vaginal sex, squirting, pussy slapping
anatomical terms: chest, cunt, pussy, dick, t-dick, chocho, pija
words: 7,979 (we smoke CRACK!!!!!!!!!!!!)
ao3 link
author's notes: in which i am a dumb stoner with a lalo shaped brain tumor <3 no soy un hablante nativo pero estoy aprendiendo. la escritura es como yo practico. ¡por favor corríjanme si encuentran algunos errores! :3
“This is ridiculous. Are you guys seriously not gonna tell me what it means? It can’t be THAT bad.”
You groaned. You were in the backseat of the car as Marco and Leonel drove you home, dead silent, as usual. All you wanted to do was buy weed, but Lalo won’t let you unless it’s from the family. He doesn’t trust any other source. Okay, that’s fair, plus it’d be kinda rude to buy from his competition, right? So, you had to buy from Tuco. Sure, not a problem. The twins picked you up and gave you a ride over. Great. You were a little annoyed that Lalo didn’t even want you driving there by yourself, but whatever. Everything’s fine. Once you got the weed from Tuco, one of his guys said something stupid about you in Spanish, and Tuco snapped and started beating the shit out of him. You caught most of it, since Lalo had been teaching you the language, but there was one phrase that mystified you. It sounded like a slang term, and Lalo hadn’t taught you many colloquialisms yet. You had asked what he said, but no one would tell you. Tuco was too busy giving him impromptu plastic surgery; none of the other guys in the room would dare speak up; and Marco and Leonel dragged you out of there once the guy’s teeth started flying through the air.
It seemed like everyone in the Salamanca family treated you like a child, like you were a helpless little thing who couldn’t possibly protect himself. Shit, even Lalo was guilty of it, too. He didn’t even trust you to make the drive alone; he asked the twins to pick you up. It was infuriating. You seethed the entire ride back to his place.
When you got there, you stormed inside, pissed off, releasing a cloud of noxious vibes into the house. Lalo was there to greet you, and he sniffed it out immediately. “Dios mío, conejito, ¿qué pasó? (My god, bunny, what happened?) You look like you’re about to rip someone’s head off! Tuco didn’t give you any trouble did h-?”
You shot him straight, interrupting him mid-sentence, not even saying hello, “What’s a chichifo travelo?” you barked at him and crossed your arms over your chest.
Lalo’s concern bled into pure confusion, and then, for some reason, cheerfulness. He burst out laughing. A deep, rich belly laugh that had him doubling over and slapping his thigh. What? What the hell? What was so funny? “Oh! Oh my god, sorry, just. Just give me a second, woo!”
You groaned. “Can you just tell me what it means?”
Lalo’s laughter fizzled out, and he managed to compose himself. He stood upright, looked back down at you. “Well, chichifo is kinda like a… gigolo? Is that how you say it in English? It’s basically a male prostitute, y’know. And then, travelo…” His eyes trailed down to your chest, a few buttons of your shirt undone, and he sighed. He patted you on the shoulder, and gave you a somber expression. “...travelo is basically ‘tranny’.”
The lightbulb turned on. “Ohhh…” you replied, the flames of your burning rage subdued now that you had an answer. You uncrossed your arms and rested your hands on your hips. “Yeah, okay, that makes sense.”
Lalo furrowed his brow and took his hand off your shoulder. “Makes sense? What happened? Nobody called you that, did they?” He gave you a look of empathy and concern that masked the fury brewing inside him.
You shrugged. “One of Tuco’s guys did, I guess. When I got there, Marco and Leonel took me inside and waited with me. While I was talking to Tuco, one of his guys said something like…” You paused to recall what he said as best as you could. “‘¿De… ¿De verdad? ¿Esta es la pareja nueva de Lalo? ¿Este chichifo travelo? (Really? This is Lalo’s new partner? This tranny hooker?)’ I didn’t hear all of it, but I figured it was some bullshit since Tuco started wailing on him and-”
“Stop.” Now, Lalo was the one to cut you off, his cold voice slicing through your dialogue like a steel blade, “Someone called you that? In front of the family?”
“Yeah,” You replied nonchalantly. “Tuco took care of it. He knocked the guy onto the floor and fucked him up pretty badly. The twins grabbed me and led me outside after that. No one would tell me what it means.”
Lalo frowned, “They probably wanted me to be the one to explain it to you, chiquito. No one should have to hear that. Is everyone else still there?”
“The twins aren’t. They took me home.” You pondered for a second. “But I think Tuco is. I doubt the other guy is still breathing though.” You nervously tried to laugh it off.
But Lalo wasn’t laughing. “Alright then,” He patted your shoulders before moving with determination to get something out of a cabinet. ”Ven conmigo. Vamos a ver Tuco y el pendejo que te ha dicho esa mierda a tí. (Come with me. We’re going to see Tuco and the asshole who said that shit to you.)” He turned around, holding a loaded pistol with a silencer on it. Why?! Why?! Why?! Who the fuck just has that locked, loaded, and ready to go, just chilling in the living room cabinet like it’s a cheap airport knickknack?! Apparently, your boyfriend did, and since you lived here too, technically you did by extension.
You jumped when you saw the gun. “¡¿Q-Qué?! (What?!)” You asked, your brain flipping through pages of an English-Spanish dictionary as fast as it could, “No… no tienes que hacer eso. De verdad. Estoy bien. (You… You don’t have to do that. Really. I’m fine.)” You gave him an insecure smile, a sheepish grin that you hoped said: For the love of God, man, let it go. It’s not that deep.
Lalo wasn’t budging. He opened the front door, and turned to you, casually waving you outside with a 9mm handgun like an extension of his hand. “Ven. Conmigo. (Come. With me.)”
Thankfully, the whims of fate saved you from yet another aggravating car ride. Two in the same day was more than enough. Lalo’s phone started ringing, right on cue. He took it out of his pocket and squinted to read the name.
“Is that Tuco?” you asked. He nodded in your direction, and touched the silencer to his own lips. Be quiet. You understood.
Lalo flipped the phone open and laughed, as if this was the most normal conversation you could have with your cousin. “¡Tuco! ¿Qué chingados pasaba hoy? ¿Uno de tus vatos le llamaba mi chico un chichifo travelo? (Tuco! What the fuck happened today? One of your guys called my boy a tranny whore?)” 
He let Tuco speak for a moment before continuing. You couldn’t hear anything coherent from the outside, but it sure was loud. “Primo, primo, cálmate. Cálmate. No puedo entenderte cuando dices tan fuerte. Toma un respiro profundamente y dime que pasaba. (Cousin, cousin, calm down. Calm down. I can’t understand you when you talk so loud. Take a deep breath and tell me what happened.)” 
Lalo stopped talking, and the sound on the other line was much quieter. You couldn’t hear anything besides Lalo now. “Sí, sí, yo sé que él dijo eso. ¿Había algo más? (Yeah, yeah, I know he said that. Was there anything else?)” Silence. “¿Me llamó un maricón? ¿De verdad? Ha! Te le ocupaste, ¿cierto? (He called me a faggot? Really? Ha! You took care of him, right?)” Silence again. “¿No está respirando? ¿Estás seguro? Bien, bien hecho, pero déjame terminarlo la próxima vez.  (He’s not breathing? Are you sure? Good, good job, but let me finish him off next time.)” Silence once more. “Sí, por supuesto, yo diré tío. Él va a estar muy orgulloso de tí. ¡Bien! Entonces, nos hablaremos tarde, ¿cierto? Bien. ¡Chao! (Yeah, of course, I’ll tell Uncle. He’s going to be very proud of you. Alright! Well, we’ll talk later, yeah? Okay. Bye!)”
He flipped his phone shut and stood still for a moment. Then another. Then another. Until he shrugged, and went to put the gun away. You sighed in relief, letting the air permeate your lungs and your body relax once again. Once the cabinet was closed, Lalo approached you to cup your face in his hands and kiss your forehead. 
“Perd��name, chiquito. (Forgive me, baby boy.) You were right. I should have listened. I just can’t bear to let anything happen to you. No one can say such horrific things to you and come away with his life. I wanted to make things right. Do you understand? ¿Me comprendes?” Lalo did that a lot. He would say something in English and repeat it in Spanish, a signal to answer him in kind.
“Sí. Te comprendo (I understand you).” You sighed, nudged him off you, and switched back to English. “It’s just… aggravating that you don’t trust me. I can handle myself just fine, y’know.”
Lalo simpered. “I do trust you, nene (baby). I just don’t trust everyone else. I need to keep my baby boy safe, yeah?” He could see you pouting, so he knew he had to change the topic. “So! How’d it go otherwise? ¿Conseguiste que tú necesitabas de Tuco? (Did you get what you needed from Tuco?)”
Having to translate made you forget what you were upset about. Your response took a moment to buffer, and you perked up when it finished loading.. “...¡Sí! Sí, yo hice. Acá. (Yes! Yes, I did. Here.)” You pulled a ziplock bag full of weed out of your pocket, and excitedly showed it to Lalo. “Mirálo. (Look at this.)”
Lalo examined the bag, first by appearance. Large nugs, dark green with flecks of orange and purple, blooming flowers, no big stems. Looked alright. He cracked open the bag and sniffed it. A dank, earthy, almost musty smell wafted through the air. It was fresh. Smelled alright. He took a nug in between his fingers and squeezed it, snapping it apart easily. Felt alright. Yep, Salamanca product. Not that he had any doubts, mind you. He was just doing quality control. A businessman, through and through.
“That’s the good stuff.” Lalo said as he put the torn nug back in the bag and zipped it shut. “Tuco did you right. How much he charge you?”
You took the bag back. “He said I was getting the ‘family discount’, so $100 for the ounce. He weighed it in front of me, don’t worry. Plus, he said he’ll give me some for free next time. I guess that’s the ‘sorry I practically killed a man in front of you’ discount.” 
Lalo smiled. “That's a pretty good deal, even with the family discount. And free drugs? Now that's just a win-win.” He patted your back. “So I take it you'll be buying off him in the future?”
You couldn’t hide your excitement. “Yeah man! Shit, dude, if I wasn't already sleeping with you, I definitely would for a hookup like this!”
He chuckled and laid his hands on your hips, pulling you in closer. “You have no shame, huh?”
There was some truth to that statement. “None. And you love it.” You giggled and booped his nose. 
“Maybe I do, chico,” He booped yours back, “Y’know, I should really teach you more slang. You gotta be able to fire back if someone talks to you like that, right?”
“Do I?” You teased, hugging him closer to you and putting on your best faux-innocent tone. “Can’t I just have you take care of it? You gotta keep your baby boy safe, don’t you?”
Lalo snickered, eager to play along. “Oh? What happened to being able to handle yourself? Do you need your man to take care of you?”
“Hmm…” You pretended to think about it while you rubbed his back. “Maybe I do, chico.” You made sure to punctuate that last word, knowing it’d set him off.
And it did. “Oh, you’re bad. Using my words against me? Debes estar castigado por eso, ¿estás de acuerdo? (You should be punished for that, don’t you think?)”
You giggled and nodded. The word “castigado” was escaping you right now, but you figured you’d press your luck and agree nonetheless.
Lalo clocked you, because of course he did. His bullshit detector was in perfect working order. “You don’t know what I said, do you?” You didn’t need to answer; he could see it in your face. He pried your arms off his back and pinned them to your sides. “That’s why I gotta teach you. C’mon, it’ll be fun I promise.” He let you go and pointed at your bag of weed. “Podemos fumar esa mota mientras hacemos, ¿sí? (We can smoke that weed while we do it, yeah?)”
“Mota?” You tilted your head. “Is that weed?” 
“Good boy! That’s right!” He ruffled your hair and you squeaked. Sometimes, being babied and talked down to felt nice, from him, at least. “Entonces, te necesito sentarte en el sofá. Vayas. (Now, I need you to get on the couch. Go.)" He tapped your head as encouragement.
Once you translated your assignment, you walked over to the couch and plopped down. “Want me to pack us a bowl?”
“I was hoping you would.” Lalo sat down next to you and pulled the coffee table closer. 
On the table, you had a grinder, rolling tray, and bong ready to go. You opened the bag and let the odor dissipate into the air. Then, you picked a couple nugs out of the bag and ground them up before dumping the weed on the tray. Once it was ground up, you went to grab the bong, but stopped. Apparently, it’d been a while since you’d changed the water. It was almost brown and had chunks floating in it. Plus, the actual bong itself was stained. “Oh, shit,” You turned to Lalo, “I should probably clean it, huh?”
Lalo grabbed your hand to stop you. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It'll be just fine until next time. I 
actually like it the way it is. Just the right amount of filth to prove how much it gets used.”
You snorted. He walked right into this one. “Just like me, huh?”
He groaned, but with a smile. “Ugh, I knew you'd make that joke. But honestly, I can't disagree.” He let go of your hand and squeezed your thigh. “Just like you.”
You leaned over to kiss his cheek and went back to packing the bowl, his hand still on your thigh. “Got a lighter?” you asked once you were done. 
Lalo grinned. “¿Sabes cómo preguntarme en español? (Do you know how to ask me in Spanish?)” 
You weren’t sure, but you’d sure as hell try. “Tienes un… (Do you have a…) fuck… ¿Cómo se dice (How do you say) ‘lighter’?”
“Encendedor.” Lalo replied and took a fancy silver zippo out of his pocket, bougie as always. You went to grab it but he yanked it back. “Ah! Not until you ask for it correctly.”
You sighed, clearly fed up with his teasing, or maybe you just really wanted to smoke. Nevertheless, you did what he wanted. He watched the gears in your head turn. “Puedo… ¿Puedo usar tu encendedor? (Can I borrow your lighter?)”
“Bien hecho, chiquito! (Good job, baby boy!)” Lalo pulled you in for a hug and petted your hair again. “¡Tan inteligente! Claro que sí, tú puedes. (So smart! Of course, you can.)” When he was done patronizing you, he handed you the lighter.
You took the lighter in your hand and his lips in yours, but only for a second. There was weed to be smoked. Your lips then went to the mouthpiece of the bong. There was something about it, all the preparation that went into it, it was like a choreographed dance. A flick of the lighter, a singe of the flower, and a deep breath in, a really deep breath. The smoke would build; the water would bubble. You’d pull away and wait, just a moment, before you let it all out, blowing out a cloud of pure smoke, like a dragon doing a half-assed job of burning down the village and terrorizing the townspeople. You didn’t cough. How sexy of you. You glanced over at Lalo and wiggled your eyebrows, a kind of What do you think of that?, before you passed it over to him.
He laughed and said “You are too much, conejito.” before lighting up himself. 
You laid back against the couch and crossed your arms behind your head. “Hm… conejito. What’s that mean?” You hummed.
Lalo blew the smoke out and coughed slightly. You giggled. Pussy. He cleared his throat to answer you. “It means bunny. Why? Do you not like it? I can call you something else.” He passed the bong to you.
“No, I like it. Was just wondering.” You answered before taking another hit, a big one too. This time you coughed when you let it out. Hubris. Maybe Lalo wasn’t a pussy. “What’d you wanna teach me anyway? Some more slurs?” You took another hit and passed it to him, the two of you establishing a good rhythm as you rehearsed your choreography. Flick, singe, pull, out, pass.
“If you want, I can. You know travelo, yeah? That’s yours.” He pointed at your chest, with the hand that was holding the lighter. “Both of us can say maricón. That’s how you say faggot.” Flick, singe, pull, out, pass.
“Oh, yeah,” You nodded. “I thought I heard the guy say that about you.” Flick, singe, pull, out, pass.
“Yeah, apparently he did. No big deal. I’ve heard it so many times now. I’m sorry you had to hear it, though.” Flick, singe, pull, out, pass.
“I’m fine, trust me. ‘S not like I haven’t heard it in English before anyway.” Flick, singe, pull, out, pass.
“Well, either language, some pendejo says that to you, you tell me, alright?” Flick, singe, pull, out, pass.
“Pendejo? What’s that, asshole?” Flick, singe, pull, out, pass.
“More or less, yeah. Literal definition is pubic hair.” Flick, singe, pull, out, pass.
“Ha! That’s funny. You just call people pubes? I like that.” Flick, singe, pull, out… Why was nothing coming out? Did you two burn through a bowl that quickly? You poked the ash into the center of the bowl and tried to light it. No dice. “Aw, boo.” You pouted and set the bong and lighter back on the table. Well, now that you weren’t smoking, you could take a moment to feel yourself getting high. You snuggled up close to Lalo, resting your head on his chest. He always smelled so fucking nice.
Lalo wrapped his arm around you and pulled you in tighter. “Relax, baby. We’ll smoke some more in a bit. Gives us more freedom to talk, eh?”
“Mmm… okay…” You hummed, though honestly, you weren’t sure you had the brain power to talk much right now. You dragged your fingers along his chest before honking one of his pecs. You giggled. “Hehehe… titty… how do you say that in Spanish?”
Lalo snorted. “Oh, wow, you’re cute when you’re high. ‘Titty’ is teta. Is that what you wanna know? You wanna know all the naughty words? Dirty boy.”
Another loopy laugh from you. “Niño sucio (Dirty boy).” You rolled onto your stomach and slid down, resting your head in his lap. You were staring right at his bulge. He was only slightly hard, but mouthwateringly so. Weed told you to touch him, so you palmed his shaft through his jeans, hoping to pump him up in more ways than one. For some godforsaken reason, weed was also showing you Spanish vocabulary flash cards. “¿Y este aquí? (And this here?)”
Lalo snickered and brushed your hair out of your face, making sure he had your undivided attention. “Verga.”
“Verga.” You echoed, licking your lips as they curled around the word. They were a bit dry from smoking. Oh well, you’d find a way to wet them. Weed was working wonders for you, a better wingman than most had been. You giggled yet again as you rubbed him. “Entonces… se puede… se puede decir… (So… you could… you could say…)” You darkened the color of your voice to a sultry hue. “‘Dame tu verga.’ ¿sí? Se puede decir ‘Qui-... Quiero tu verga, Lalito,’ ¿verdad? (“Give me your cock,” yeah? You could say “I want… I want your cock, Lalito,” right?)
Lalo chuckled. Even with your stuttering, even with your clouded mind, he loved hearing you so hot and bothered for him. Plus, he loved that you gave him the Spanish diminutive. “¿Lalito, eh? Me gusta eso. Y sí, tienes razón. Muy bien. (Lalito, eh? I like that. And yes, you’re right. Very good.)” He sighed and petted your hair, making you scooch further into his lap. “Me encanta cuando hablas español. Suenas tan lindo. (I love it when you speak Spanish. You sound so cute.)”
He was getting harder; you could feel it. You cupped your hand and stroked him through the denim, looking up at him with the most sickly sweet eyes you could give. Saying nothing, just doing. After a while, you couldn’t help but laugh, a goofy smile to match. “You’re pretty…”
Lalo laughed too, feeling a little buzzed himself. Just a little, nowhere near your level. He had quite the tolerance. “Oh, am I now? You’re quite the looker yourself.” He reached his arm out to grab your ass. “¿Sabes qué es esto? ¿Sabes qué se llama? (You know what this is? You know what it’s called?)”
You put your finger to your lips to think. Your brain was working as fast as a dialup router in Bumfuck, Wyoming during the Clinton administration. Lightspeed. Probably 4 years later when you had your answer, you seeked Lalo’s approval. “¿Culo? (Ass?)”
“Sí, es verdad. Bien hecho. ¿Cómo sabías eso? (Yes, that’s right. Good job. How did you know that?)” Lalo gave you a firm spank, the sharp sting diffused by your pants blocking the shot. “Chico travieso. No te enseñé eso. (Naughty boy. I didn’t teach you that.)”
“Hey! Did you just call me a tranny? I know that one!” You shouted at him in a mirthful tone, showing that your anger was in jest.
Lalo scoffed. “Travieso, not travelo. It means naughty. And it’s true. Eres un chiquito travieso (You are a naughty little boy).” He spanked you again, harder this time, making you yelp. “And so what if I called you a tranny? You like it when I call you names, don’t you?”
You whined and buried your face in his lap, not wanting to bear your shame to him. “Mm… Maybe…”
Lalo wheezed and tousled your hair again. You could feel his dick twitch as he did. “I knew it! I know you so well. I told you you’re a naughty boy! I bet there’s a lot of names you’d like me to call you. I can teach you some fun ones in Spanish, too. Isn’t that right, ¿putito? ¿Sabes qué eso significa? (...little whore? You know what that means?)”
You were lucky that his clothes muffled whatever pathetic noise you just made. You didn’t take your face out of his lap, not wanting to let him see you blush. He could play you like a fiddle, and you weren’t sure whether you hated it or loved it. “...Sí.” you mumbled into his leg.
Lalo patted your head. “Entonces, dímelo. (So tell me.)”
You stood corrected. He wasn’t playing you like a fiddle; that was almost too plebeian. He was playing you like a world-class soloist performing Sibelius’s Violin Concerto in D minor on their 10 million dollar Stradivarius, a master of his craft. You answered barely above a whisper, “Little bitch…”
“I’m sorry, what was that?” He tugged your hair, pulling your face out into the open, into his line of fire. “Look at me, and say it again. What does it mean? What did I call you?” 
Your lip trembled as you replied. “Little bitch…”
“That’s right! Good boy!” He praised you by tugging on your hair again, just how you like it, just how to make you sing for him. “It means more than just bitch, though. Little whore, little slut, it’s very useful. It suits you.” He released you from his grip, letting your head fall back down into his lap.
Maybe it was the weed, maybe it was his words, but something pushed you. You went right back to teasing his cock through his pants, running your tongue across the scratchy fabric, open-mouth kisses on his bulge. You wanted it. You wanted it bad, but you didn’t have the words to ask. Well, in English, that is. Weed gave you the answer in Spanish. You gave him the saddest puppy dog eyes. “¿Lo puedo? (Can I?)” 
Lalo gave you a proud smile, happy to see you embracing the language, but he needed more than that. “¿Puedes hacer qué, muñequito? (Can you do what, doll?)” 
Weed could only do so much. You still had to figure out what the hell you were actually asking for. “Quiero… quiero usar mi boca… en tu… en tu verga. Quiero usar mi boca en tu verga. ¿Lo puedo, Lalito? (I want… I want to use my mouth… on your… on your cock. I want to use my mouth on your cock. Can I, Lalito?)” 
Lalo chuckled warmly. You were adorable. “¿Quieres chupar mi verga? Si quieres, debes decirlo primero. Dime ‘Quiero chupar tu verga, Lalito,’ y dilo fuerte. Quiero oírte decirlo. (You want to suck my cock? If you want it, you have to say it first. Say “I want to suck your cock, Lalito,” and say it loud. I want to hear you say it.)” 
Like he said earlier, you have no shame, so you had no problem doing exactly what he asked you, and then some. “Quiero chupar tu verga, Lalito. Dámelo. Dámelo, por favor. (I want to suck your cock, Lalito. Give it to me. Give it to me, please.)”
“My, my, aren’t you eager!” Lalo stroked your cheek. “But, just so you know, it’s dámela, in this case. Verga is feminine. Ironic isn’t it?”
“Really?” You giggled, easily distracted from what you were begging for just moments ago. “So then is ‘pussy’ masculine? I can roll with that.”
“Sometimes, yeah.” Lalo responded, “In Spain, they call it a coño, and here you can say chocho. There’s also chocha, panocha, we got a lot of words for it.”
“So what do you call mine?” You asked with a cheeky grin.
Lalo returned the teasing energy and played along, but only to let you know who was in control here. His deep voice rumbled in his chest. “Do a good job and I’ll tell you.” He tapped your cheek. “C’mon. You said you wanted it, right?”
You’d momentarily forgotten how horny you were thanks to his distraction. You scrambled to undo his gaudy belt, tugging it through his jeans and tossing it onto the floor. Clumsy fingers patted around to find his fly, and eventually found what they were looking for. You undid the button, the zipper, and ineloquently dug your hand in, snickering as you grabbed his cock and pulled it out. 
“Hehehe…” Amused with the situation you found yourself in, you fluttered your tongue across the tip, back and forth, making sure to keep his eye contact as you gave him nothing more than a facsimile of pleasure. You felt like messing with him, just a little bit. Weed was always a trickster. 
Lalo raised an eyebrow. “That’s all you got? Okay,” He sighed, and leaned over you towards the paraphernalia on the table. He put a few nugs in the grinder and started to twist. “If all you’re gonna do is bore me like that, I might as well have some fun of my own.” He emptied the contents of the grinder onto the tray and started to pack a bowl. You stopped moving your tongue and tilted your head up at him, silently begging like a dog eyeing up his owner’s lunch. “No. Not until I think you’ve earned it. Get to work.” He chided.
You did as you were told and began to service him properly. Your tongue moved with purpose, mapping out his most sensitive spots. His slit, so you could coax more precum out. Underneath his foreskin and around his head, you knew he was sensitive there. Down his length so you could coat him in as much spit as you’d need. You were just warming him up for now, but nevertheless, you gave it your all.
Lalo was unphased, smoking the bong without a care in the world as you debased yourself for him. Business as usual. Your partnered dance was now a solo, and one of the steps had changed: flick, singe, pull, out, repeat. He whistled as he blew the smoke out. “There we go! That’s more like it. Ya realmente pareces como un putito. Te queda bien. ¿Estás de acuerdo?  (You really look like a little slut now. It suits you. Don’t you agree?)” He took another hit and blew the smoke down into your face. “¿Entonces? Respóndeme. Respóndeme en español, te chico sucio. (Well? Answer me. Answer me in Spanish, you dirty boy.)”
You withdrew your tongue to answer him, your voice breathy and weak. “Sí… me gusta… me gusta esto… (Yes… I like… I like this…)”
“¿Qué te gusta? ¿Te gusta chupar verga como el maricón patético que tú eres? (What do you like? You like sucking cock like the pathetic faggot you are?)” 
You moaned a non-verbal answer and took him back into your mouth, relaxing your throat and welcoming him inside. You let him take over all five of your senses. Sight: you’d glance up at him to make sure he was satisfied. Sound: the click of the lighter, the bubbling of the bong, the exhale of the smoke, the soft sighs and grunts of a job well done. Scent: you huffed in his aftershave and musk as your tongue touched his balls. Touch: the weight on your tongue, the calloused fingers brushing your hair out of your face. Taste: that one was obvious. Suddenly, a sour scent sliced through these simultaneous sensations. It smelled like pool chlorine on a hot summer day, but you were inside. Inside and on a couch in the living room. What the hell could that possibly be? Your eyelids snapped open and you stared up at Lalo, who was holding a small bottle up to his face, bong nowhere in sight. 
Lalo poked one of his nostrils shut and snorted whatever was in the bottle. The contents shot up his nose and his face crinkled up instantly. He gasped and screwed the bottle shut before putting it back in his shirt pocket. “Mierda, está bien… (Shit, that’s good…)” He rolled his shoulders back as his head lulled to the side. “Ah… Acá… (Here…)” His fingers knotted in your hair, using it as a makeshift handle for your head, pulling you up and down his cock. “Déjame ayudarte… (Let me help you…)”
In helping you, he was really helping himself. There was nothing helpful about his hold on you. He used your mouth as a hole, a mere toy for him to get himself off.  His hips jerked up into you to bury himself even deeper. He pushed you all the way down, until your nose touched his stomach, and you gagged. You spat up more saliva around his cock, making him groan in pleasure. He took you off so you could breathe, after you were done coughing up spit and precum, that is. You panted heavily while Lalo reached over you again, praising you as he did, “Oh, that’s a good boy…” Out of nowhere, you felt cold glass touch your lips.
Lalo was holding the bong up to you, a reward for your efforts.  “C’mon, take a hit. You’ve earned it.” 
You puckered your lips around the mouthpiece, and nodded, a signal that you were ready. He lit the fuse, and thus, the dance was partnered again. When you were done with your turn, you blew the smoke out and pointed at his shirt pocket. “What's that?” you asked.
“Oh, this?” Lalo set the bong and lighter back on the table and pulled the small bottle out of his pocket. He brought it down so you could see the label. You squinted to read the fine print. What the fuck? Nail polish remover? He’s a cartel boss. He can get all the drugs he could ever want, so why on earth would he be huffing that?, you thought. He must have sensed your confusion, so he explained himself before you could ask. “Amyl nitrite. It’s an aphrodisiac. The label’s just for legal purposes. Can’t say what it’s really for without the feds getting involved, y’know? You sniff it and it gives you a quick rush. Makes things feel pretty intense for the next minute or so. You wanna try it?”
Your eyes went from the label to Lalo, and then back to the label. You weren’t sure about this, but if Lalo did it, it was probably safe. You shrugged and went to grab it, but Lalo pulled it back.
“Hey, hey! Easy there! I’ll tell you when.” He put the bottle back in his pocket and ruffled your hair once more. “It’s a short burst so we gotta make it count, alright? Now,” He yanked your hair again, pulling your head up from his lap and sitting you up. “Let’s make it count.” 
He caught you in a kiss faster than you could process. He was hungry, tongue invading your mouth, biting your lip, teeth clashing. You were too stoned to react in turn. All you could do is let him take what he wanted, and what he wanted was you. All of you. He broke the kiss to pull your shirt off and toss it on the floor. His large hands palmed your chest as he growled in your ear.
“Tan hermoso. No tienes idea de todos las cosas malas que yo quiero hacer a tí. (So gorgeous. You have no idea of all the bad things I want to do to you.)” Lalo pinched your nipples and tugged them out, making you howl in bittersweet pleasure. “Me vuelves pinche loco. (You drive me fucking crazy.)” He let go of your nipples and reached for the bong again, your body swaying left and right without his hands to support you. “Ándale, puto, hazlo otra vez. Dale una otra fumada. Quiero volverte agradable y tonto para mí. (Come on, slut, do it again. Take another hit. I want you to get nice and silly for me.)”
Dazed and confused, you weren’t entirely sure what he just asked you, but context clues were a big help. You barely had the brainpower to keep yourself upright, let alone go against him. Lips on the mouthpiece, flame on the flower, smoke in the lungs, and then smoke in the air. 
“Buen chico. ¿Cómo te sientes? (Good boy. How do you feel?)” He asked. You answered with a ditzy smile and a nod. “Bien, bien. ¿Quieres continuar? (Good, good. You want to keep going?)” Another nod. Lalo chuckled and gave you a gentle kiss. “Yo sé que querrías. Chico sucio. (I knew that you would. Dirty boy.) He pushed you onto your back, and you melted into the couch cushions. You hummed contentedly, mesmerized by the plush fabric. You raised an arm to caress the back of the couch. It was just so soft. Did it always feel this nice? Wait… was the room colder now? Two firm hands grabbed your legs and pulled them apart, which posed another question…
Where were your pants?
Lalo must have slipped them off while you were conducting field research on furniture upholstery. He smirked up at you between your legs, his mouth hovering over your pussy. “Entonces, quisiste saber que yo llame este? (So, you wanted to know what I call this?)”
“Ah… y-yes, Lalo…” You whined, not even bothering to translate anymore. 
That wasn’t gonna fly. Lalo frowned, and gave your cunt a harsh spank. You yelped and your hips thrust upwards. It was a pleasant sting, sure, but why? You couldn’t figure out what you had done wrong. “Wha…?! What’d I do- oh!” Another slap stopped you short. 
The gentle tone you heard was a stark contrast to the searing pain you felt fizzle away. “En español, querido. Tienes que practicar conmigo. Eso es porque estamos haciendo esto. (In Spanish, sweetheart. You have to practice with me. That’s why we’re doing this.)” He gave you a second to process that. With how spaced out you were, he could’ve given you an hour and it may not have been enough. “Ya, me quieres decirte que yo llame este aquí? (Now, you want me to tell you what I call this here?)” He traced a finger up and down your slit. You were already soaked, because of course you were. 
You whimpered and answered with a mediocre translation of your thoughts. “S-Sí… ¿Qué… ¿Qué es? (Y-Yes… What… What is it?)”
Lalo’s eyes held such reverence for you. You were just too cute for your own good. “Hm… Vamos a ver… (Let’s see…)” He pondered,  “Eres un caso especial. Entonces, creo que yo llamaría este… (You’re a special case. So, I think I would call this…)” 
His thumb flicked over your t-dick and your lower half jolted in response. “Una pija. Sí, tiene sentido para tí. Y este… (A dick. Yeah, that makes sense for you. And this…)” 
He slid two fingers inside you and pressed them up into your g-spot, and pressed his thumb on your dick simultaneously. The sound that came out of you was nothing short of desperate. He laughed. “Creo que ‘chocho’ te quede. (I think ‘cunt’ suits you.)” 
He twirled and rubbed his fingers inside and against you as he kept talking about your body. “Si eres algo especial, de verdad. Me encanta tu chocho, ¿sabes eso? Como apretado se siente, como mojado se vuelve cuando lo toco. Me encanta todo. No puedo esperar que llene tí. (You really are something special. I love your cunt, do you know that? How tight it feels, how wet it gets when I touch it. I love it all. I can’t wait to fill you up.)”
Your head was empty. The only thought occupying it was the fact that your hole wasn’t empty. Lalo knew just how to work you; he knew exactly what to do to make you beg, and you did instinctively. “Lalo… Lalo… Lalo, please… please fuck me… Ah!”
He had pulled his hand away from you and brought it down hard against your sensitive skin. “Te dije no inglés. (I told you no English.)” He got up onto his knees and grabbed your hips, lining himself up with your entrance. “¿Sabes que decir ‘fuck’ en español? (Do you know how to say fuck in Spanish?)”
You shook your head.
Lalo leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Follar,” and then pushed inside of you. 
You cried out and wrapped your limbs around him, clinging onto him as if you were scared to let him go. Your hole did the same, pulsating around his fat cock.
Lalo sighed and caressed your cheek. “Oh, te siento tan bien. (You feel so good.) I gotta get you high more often!” He laughed. Wait, what? That was English! He saw the indignation in your face, and quickly counteracted it. “What? I can speak English, if I want. You can’t. Tú tienes que aprender español. Yo no debo. (You have to learn Spanish. I do not.) Now…” He fished that bottle out of his pocket, unscrewed the cap, and pressed one of his nostrils shut. “Close one nostril like this, put the bottle up to the open one, and sniff as hard as you can. You may feel some of the liquid shoot up, but that’s okay. It’s gonna feel great, I promise. Let me show you.” He snorted the popper himself and groaned before handing it to you, “Okay… okay… now you. Give it back when you’re done.”
Your hands fumbled the bottle momentarily, but you got it into position. One nostril shut, the other open, and sniff. Easy enough. You followed the steps: press, place, huff. A burst of liquid flooded your sinuses. You winced and handed the bottle back to Lalo, who screwed it shut and put it back in his pocket. He groaned and started to pound into you.
You’d never imagined that huffing “nail polish remover” would be so pleasurable, so psychedelic. It felt like your head was a balloon, gradually inflating but never popping. You heard your heartbeat in your ears. You could feel the couch breathing underneath you. Your cunt was on fire, and Lalo was pumping gasoline inside it, making you burn that much hotter. 
Most of the sounds you made were incoherent gibberish, but there was one word in particular that you both heard loud and clear, its syllables syncing to its namesake’s hips. “La-lo! La-lo! La-lo!” Some more words crossed your mind and infiltrated the atmosphere. You tried like hell to make sure none of them were English. “Lalo! Lalo! ¡Más! ¡Da… ¡Dame más! F-Fo-oh! ¡F-Fóllame, Lalito! ¡Fóllame! (More! Give… Gimme more! F-Fuck me, Lalito! Fuck me!)” So far, so good. 
Lalo groaned as he fucked you into the couch. “Ah, así es mi putito lindo. ¿Te gusta? No te preocupes, no debes decirme. Yo sé que te gusta. Justo relájate y disfrútalo. (Ah, there’s my cute little slut. You like that? Don’t worry, you don’t have to tell me. I know you like it. Just relax and enjoy it.)” He pinched your dick and stroked it in time with his thrusts. “Sabes, me alegra que seas un travelo. Me encanta que naciste con un chocho. Sientes mucho mejor que otros hombres. Es como que tú has hecho para estar follado. (You know, I’m so happy that you’re a tranny. I love that you were born with a cunt. You feel so much better than other men. It’s like you were made to get fucked.)”
You had no idea what the fuck he was talking about, but it definitely sounded nice. Then again, anything would sound nice in that rich, sexy tone of his. For all you knew, he could be reciting his grocery list. This bitch could make the produce aisle sound like a hedonistic paradise. Whatever. Logistics didn’t matter. What did matter was how close your orgasm was. You’d say you were losing control, but that implied you had some control of the situation to begin with.
All you could do was moan and drag your nails down his back. Rather than worry about what words you didn’t know, you focused on the ones you did, of which there were very few. “Lalo! Lalo! Lalo! Oh! Oh my… Ah! I mean…! ¡D-Dios mío! ¡Dios mío!” Nice recovery. That got a hearty laugh from him. 
Okay, good. You could do this. You could figure this out. What was “to come” again? Right, venir, okay. Now what? You couldn’t just say venir. You gotta preface that with something. You were drawing a blank, and it made you panic. You were running out of time, and you knew better than to finish without permission. Weed was not helping anymore, and the poppers were long gone from your system, not that they would’ve contributed much either. Fuck it. You tried. “¡Venir! ¡Venir! (Come! Come!)”
Lalo thought that was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. It was adorable watching you so dumb and cockdrunk that you could barely speak. He didn’t let up, but he lent you a helping hand, or  rather, he flicked on the lightbulb in your brain. “¿Te vas a venir? ¿Estás cerca? (You’re gonna cum? Are you close?)”
And it all became so clear. “¡Sí! ¡Sí, eso! ¡Voy a venir, Lalito! ¡Lalito! ¿Lo… ¿Lo puedo? (Yes! Yes, that! I’m gonna cum, Lalito! Lalito! Can… Can I?)”
Lalo smiled, pressed a kiss to your forehead, and jerked you even harder than you thought possible. “Hazlo. Hazlo y dime gracias después. (Do it. Do it and say thank you after.)”
Whatever the hell después meant was not a concern right now. You understood the rest of the sentence. “¡Gracias! ¡Gracia-ah! ¡Gracias, Lalito! Lalitooo~!” You pulled him against you and into a kiss. You moaned into his mouth as you came, flooding the space between you two and staining the couch at least a little bit.
Lalo broke the kiss and took his hand off your dick so he could stroke your hair. He wasn’t far behind. “Bien… Bien hecho. Buen chico. Oh, hiciste tan bueno. Estoy muy orgulloso de tí…” He grabbed hold of your waist, pulling you back into him and digging as deep as he could go. He growled hungrily. “Voy a venir también. ¿A dónde lo quieres? (I’m gonna cum too. Where do you want it?)”
Your orgasm had delivered yet another high that fried your brain and left you dumb. Translating was a fucking ordeal, even moreso than before. You were staring up at him with your eyes red and glazed over, and your tongue hanging out of your mouth and drooling. Where… it… you want? Where do you want it? In… Inside, right? Shit, how do you say inside again? At least this time you could think of some other words instead. “En… ¡En mi chocho! ¡En mi chocho! (In… In my cunt! In my cunt!)”
“¿Lo quieres dentro? (You want it inside?)”
“¡Sí! ¡Dentro! ¡Hazlo dentro! (Yes! Inside! Do it inside!)”
Lalo laughed, warm and sweet, and smooched you on the lips. “Don’t gotta tell me twice!” Before you could gripe about him teasing you with English again, he slammed his hips into you hard, grunting and hissing as he filled you up. And you felt full. You could feel it seeping out of you before he even pulled out. If you had more than four brain cells left, you’d worry about how you were going to clean the cushions later. But you didn’t, so you didn’t.
You both panted like you’d just run a marathon, and you were sweating like sinners in church. Although you were alike in condition, your post-nut reactions were much different. You were staring up at the ceiling, brainless and boneless, blending into the bodily fluids left onto the couch. Lalo grabbed the bong and lit the bowl again, tapping you on the cheek when he blew the smoke out. “You want some? We probably got one good hit left in there. You can speak English again, by the way.”
Of course, he was giving you permission, not stating a fact. You were too fucked up (quite literally) to speak at all right now, but not too fucked to forget the dance. Flick, singe, pull, out, pass.
“Alright, nice! And good job!” Lalo took the bong from you and placed it back on the table. “You’re getting better with Spanish. I think we gotta practice more often though, right?”
You nodded. It was all you could do. 
Lalo grinned. He was so, so proud. “Yeah, alright. We’ll do this again sometime. But, I got one more thing left to teach you.” He pressed his forehead to yours, and stared right into your eyes. 
“Te amo. (I love you.)”
There was no need to translate. You knew it; you said it back; and you meant it.
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