#derrick my love i'm so sorry
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lilith--simmer · 1 month ago
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𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵...
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jeding-png · 4 months ago
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End of Hard Mode.
Ready to meet chapter 156?
Although for readers of the novel who were waiting for the legendary scene of this arc, they didn't get it in today's chapter... but damn! This chapter is equally full of emotions!
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Do you think the first frame is Penelope's reaction to Derrick bringing Ivonne? Oh no, dear readers, you're forgetting about Penelope's eternal tormentor... the system's notification.
What she worked so hard for, dripping with sweat and blood, is a mls' affection score.
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All the men have their % down, but Derrick and Eckles have -20%, while Callisto, Reynold, and Winter have -10%
What strikes me is how the locks on the first two are completely dark. I'm so glad that SUOL-nim decided to make similar details in the third season. Agree, it looks beautiful and interesting.
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What about men? And they are all frankly shocked (can understand them). At least they were struck by the laughter of Penelope, who is aware of her position.
But Penelope is just a goddess. I give a standing ovation, take the Oscar from Ivonne and Eckles to give to her.
She announces that it is true that her only older sister, the Duke's true daughter, has returned. Of course, Duke Eckhart wants to deny something, but Penelope makes an innocent but deliberate statement:
"But it's my birthday, father..."
His words hang in the air, and my breath catches in anticipation. And you know... I'm pleasantly surprised to see this face:
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As you can see, there is now a conversation between Penelope and Ivonne, during which another glass is brought. Not one of the servants, but this lovely maid.
Oh, so you see that breathy blue glow in her eyes, too? After that, she definitely won't inspire confidence. Meet Becky, dear readers!
Tumblr limits the number of images but also explains the moment with the poison Penelope ordered from Winter. It was a kind of way to escape into the real world after finishing hard mode, as I understood from the Korean translator (sorry, I sometimes forget such details-)
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And of course, the golden glow of Penelope's necklace does not go unnoticed not only by Penelope but also by Ivonne.
Our clever girl immediately understands that the glass in Ivonne's hands contains poison.
It will be a big scene if the duke's real daughter, who was "locked alone in a room and hidden from everyone" on the fake daughter's birthday, suddenly gets poisoned, right?
"...Ivonne, you're holding not your glass."
But both of them can play this game. And Penelope knew exactly how to take advantage of the other's confusion when the necklace never stopped shining with a yellow glow.
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whatislovevavy · 4 months ago
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Tia Maria and Whiskey on the Rocks
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Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OC (Cherry)
Masterlist
Author's Note: hey y'all, apologies for the extremely late posting, I've been going through some life transitions and finding time and motivation to write has been difficult, but here it is now :) This is part two of Most of Freedom and Of Pleasure, and is apart of @thedroneranger 's Pick Your Poison Writing Challenge with the prompt being Espresso Martinis I'm glad I got to include one of my favorite drinks with one of my favorite songs with a character I love writing for <3 I'm most likely going to do a third part with smut in it, so let me know if that would be something you lovely people would like to read :)
Warnings: Mentions of Smut, Fluff, Alcohol, Pilots catching feelings
WC: 5.2k
All of my writings will be added to my writing side blog @sophs-writing-nook 
This is an 18+ fanfic, so minors scoot pls. You are responsible for the media you consume. Do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate this fic without my explicit permission as it is my own creation. 
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Goddamn it. 
You slid the end call button as Phoenix didn’t pick up, fighting with the raindrops that fell and streaked down your phone screen, and trying to keep your jacket secure around your frame that didn’t seem to be saving your red dress from being soaked by the rain. The overwhelming damp and cold feeling seeped into your scalp and made the floodgates that held your tears back crack and crumble all the more. 
You regretted this date, much more than all of the others. 
A shaky sigh left your lips, frustration, and anger forming its potent mix in your mind. 
You tried to keep your eyes on your phone and to stay calm; you didn’t need the people eyeing you on the sidewalk feeling sorry for you. They had nothing to feel sorry for anyway.  You were just a person that had a disaster of a date and was stuck out in the rain trying to get home. Absolutely nothing to feel sorry for. You huffed, tensing your jaw as you found cover under an awning of a bookstore. Trying not to look at anyone that gave you that characteristic look of pity as they walked by. Biting your lip, you contemplated calling the last number you wanted to be calling late on a Friday night. 
Just get it over with, you thought. 
You quickly tapped the call button next to the infuriating little contact icon. Biting into your lip harder, finding the puddle reflecting the San Diego city lights more appealing than attempting to meet any passerbyers gaze as each tone brought you closer to a ride home. Or the teasing of a lifetime. Maybe both. 
“Cherry.”
That familiar silk laced drawl made you shut your eyes and wish anyone else had picked up when you called. But alas, here you were.
“Wasn’t expectin’ to hear from you. I thought you were busy entertainin’ what’s his name, Dylan? Derrick?” 
The humor in his voice brought a hot surge of frustration to the tips of your fingers as you gripped your phone harder, jaw tensing. 
“Look, I’m not in the mood for this right now…” Your voice losing its bite, but only by a little, “I’ve had a really shitty night, and,” you took a shaky breath, the frustration of the evening coming in full force on your psyche, “I need a ride home.” Jake's teasing grin wilted. You never would have called him, unless it was serious. He licked his lower lip, turning to look back at his friends finishing up a game of pool from the corner near the bathrooms, the steadily growing chatter in the bar making it more difficult to hear you as the seconds passed. He rubbed the back of his neck, swallowing. “Ok, sit tight, sweets. I'll come get you, you're still at Benny’s?” 
Your eyebrows furrowed. That’s…odd. You never told him where you were going. The wind and rain made you pull your jacket tighter around yourself. The evening rain makes you shiver, jaw chittering. Taking a deep breath, “yeah, I'm outside,” eyes diverting from the passing traffic to the worn, gold tinged cursive on the window, “Clara’s bookstore.“Your eyes trained on the rain soaked overhead awning dripping to the sidewalk in front of your painted toes peeking from your heels as you waited for his response. 
Jake's eyebrows furrowed, eyes diverting from his phone screen to the rain streaked windows facing the beach. That's a decent walk from where you ate, he thought, eyebrows raising. Must've been quite a guy to make you leave early. And in the pouring rain, no less.
“I'll be there soon, Cher. Are you somewhere safe? Somewhere out of the rain?”
If you didn't know any better, you'd say the insufferable, look-out-for-number-one-only, selfish, arrogant  Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, who spent each free moment he wasn't peacocking around base, making your nerves burn and fray, sounded concerned about your well being. 
As soon as Jake heard your dreary, evidently rain soaked confirmation, he opted out of the game, forcing Bob to take his place with little to no explanation besides that  a commitment came up,”  striding down the Hard Deck steps to his parked truck. 
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He's not ditching you. He wouldn't do that. You repeated what felt like mantras as the minutes ticked by. Hot tears started to brew at the corners of your eyes. You clutched your now soaked jacket over your dress, your toes sinking into the soggy faux leather of your heels as you leaned back against the concrete column of the closed store. The amber overhead lights making warped reflections in the puddles of the buildings and cars passing by.
Your breathing was ragged as you felt the familiar flames of frustration lick at your brain, something that had only stopped when Jake said he was going to go come get you. 
You felt so stupid. Wearing this dress. These heels. Your smudged make-up that, at one point, looked presentable. You just wanted to go home and eat a pint of ice cream. 
God, why hadn't Phoenix picked up?
You clenched your eyes in frustration, a rigid breath leaving your throat as you leaned your head back against the column. 
The familiar hum of Jake's truck brought your teary gaze up to the almost barely visible silhouette in the driver's seat. 
Jake's door flew open, jogging with a jacket clutched in hand. Your eyes widened as he got closer to you, wrapping you up in his jacket. 
By the time he reached you, his hair was drenched, now a more dull golden hue. His charm remained, unfortunately, in the city’s downpour. 
“Come on sweets, let's get you inside.” Your mouth parted slightly. The sight of his shirt clinging to his biceps and broad shoulders, and the subtle scent of sweat, his natural musk, and rain almost made you miss his statement. 
His rich jade eyes traced the soft reflection of the street light off of your soaked hair, to your smudged make up, to the drenched portions of your dress and jacket to your slight shiver you were evidently trying to repress. 
His lips curved into a slight frown. You didn't deserve to be treated this way on a date. Especially not when you looked so-
His eyes returned to your deep brown ones, undertoned by your smudged mascara, finding them already on his; sharper than a moment ago, daring him to pity you. 
He carefully wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders, guiding you to the passenger door of his truck, headlights still blinding, and refracting with the incoming rain.
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The car ride was silent except for the quiet sounds from the radio. Jake would take occasional glances your way at stop lights, but your gaze remained on the road ahead; head leaned against the side rest of his car, body still wrapped in his jacket. You had to stop yourself from unintentionally cocooning yourself deeper into it. 
“You want me to drop you off at your apartment?” 
You glanced at him, “yeah.” 
His frown curved deeper. Your tone lacked the usual spitfire attitude you always bared him, instead replaced by a sense of accepted defeat. A few beats of silence passed before Jake cleared his throat. “This Dylan guy must've been some date…you want to talk about it?” Your lip quirked up a bit. His name was Derrick, but you didn't have the heart to correct him. 
You adjusted closer to the side of the passenger seat, leaning your head on the window. 
“Not really.” 
There was that same defeated tone again, the one that made Jake's heartache in a way he had never felt before for you. Or for anyone for that matter. 
Jake brought his truck from a coast to a stop in front of your apartment building. His comforting gaze settled on your face, gaze still avoiding his. “Thanks for the ride home.” Your cherrywood eyes met his, giving him a tight smile before grabbing your purse, soaked coat, and leaving his jacket on the leather seat. His frown deepened, jaw tensing a bit as he watched you open his truck door. How dare this pathetic excuse of a man bring you to this state, a complete 180 to how he saw you every day since he met you. 
“Wait,” you looked back towards him, expecting some usual hangman-esque comment that would surely make you throw your soaked shoe at him. “Look, Hangman, I appreciate the ride home, but I'm not in the mood to sleep with you as a ‘thank you’.” His eyebrows pinched. Did you really think that low of him? And in that same defeated tone? “That,” he sighed, “that’s not what I was going to say,” he reassured, pushing his hair back with his hand. Opposing hand still on the steering wheel, watch gleaming in the glow of the radio. 
“Let me buy you some food and a drink, I know you like the Cajun fries at that bar downtown.” 
You were taken aback by the offer. Frankly, you weren't in the mood if this was a joke. “It'd be my treat,” he lightly pressed with a comforting tone. You bit the inside of your lip, examining his face for any sign of ill intent, but you found nothing in his warm sea glass eyes or the defined features of his nose and jaw. 
Cajun fries sounded nice. 
Really nice.
And a drink sounded even better. 
“Plus, I heard your stomach grumbling so you can't lie to me.”  A smile almost broke out across your lips. 
Almost. 
“I don't know, Hang,” you sighed.  The thought of snuggling up on your couch in a warm blanket, with a pint of ice cream and watching some trash reality show sounded appealing. But you were hungry and you had yet to go grocery shopping. And you had no booze.
“I promise, I'll make it worth your while…” 
You bit your lip, “a drink does sound really nice…”
His lips twitched into a smile, eyes twinkling. 
“Don't make me regret this, Hang…”the familiar spark in your voice slowly returned, making his heart skip a beat, “let me just change shoes first.” You grimaced as you remembered just how soaked your shoes were as the rain finally let up. 
“Wouldn't dream of it, Sweets,” he reassured as you left him towards your front door, a concealed smile on your face that cracked with each stride to your door. He let his eyes skim from your bare back to your concealed hips with an appreciative gaze as the red material of your dress flowed around your bare thighs. His view closed off as you shut your front door. 
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You let your eyes drift across the interior of the bar at your booth, leaning your cheek on your hand. Jake had left you at the booth to get you a drink. You tried to give him a request, but he left before he could hear you. At least whatever concoction he brought you would be free. You let your eyes drift shut, listening to the sound of the bar top and the music player in the corner. 
“One Tia Maria Espresso Martini for the lovely lady, and the fries are on their way.” You opened your eyes to see the almost onyx colored elixir with a layer of frothy foam in the glass, a triage of espresso beans that looked almost weightless on the foam layer. 
How did he know this was your favorite? You had never ordered them at Penny’s since she didn't have Tia Maria. You looked at him, eyebrows raised, expecting some sort of explanation for how he knew about this. 
“I remember you tried to order one of these at Penny's and thought you'd like it,” he said with a subtle tone of shyness, like he was apprehensive that he had overstepped, making your eyebrows knit together.
“I don't fully understand why you like them,” he teased, stirring his whiskey on the rocks in his glass, an effortlessly charming smile beginning to form on his lips, “but it makes sense.” 
Your eyes narrowed at his playful ones, “what's that supposed to mean?” 
He leaned back against the booth, eyes tracing the pretty features of your face and caramel skin tone, the neon lights above your seat adding to the gleam of your wavy, soft, dark hair. 
Taking a sip from his glass, you tried to focus on his face and not the subtle bob of his adam’s apple as he took a warming sip of the amber liquid. 
“You're kind of an acquired taste,” he took another sip, “bitter, but have a sweet side deep down.” Your eyes narrowed, “I'm not an acquired taste, you're just annoying and insufferable 99% of the time, so you never see my sweet side,” you clipped, eyes slowly sharpening. His lip quirked. To anyone else it would seem like you hated his guts. But he knew better, knew you better. He playfully put his hand over his heart, “Oh, Sweets, annoying and insufferable? You wound me.”  You rolled your eyes, a smile slipping around the rim of your martini glass. The bittersweet elixir flowing down your throat. His grin widened, “there's that smile,” he teased. Before you could quip him back, the root of your culinary desire was placed on the table with a soft tap and a gentle "enjoy" from the waitress. The savory, warm smell of the spices and fries almost made you moan, only now realizing just how hungry you were. You had left your date just as you were barely through your starting salad. 
“Easy there, Sweets, don't want you to choke,” he teased, giving you a wink.
You rolled your eyes at the poorly disguised innuendo, “don't tell me how to eat my fries, Bagman.” 
He barely held back his laugh at what was essentially a growl. He contemplated telling you that technically they were his fries, but he opted to keep them to himself. If having three sisters had taught him anything, it's to never get between a woman and her food. 
A comfortable silence fell over the table as he glanced around the bar and back to you, still picking at your fries. Eyes tracing over the defined round edges of your sinful red colored nails that he tried to not think about how they would feel pressed into his shoulder blades, to your necklace that dipped teasingly between your breasts. The subtle rise of your chest. The sprinkle of freckles and gentle flutter of your eyelashes on your cheeks. The touched-up mascara on your eyelashes. The soft flush of your cheeks. The cute curve of your nose. The gentle slope of your lips. 
“You listening?”
His eyes shot to your own, his face a bit pink after having been caught. 
“Of course, Sweets,” 
Your eyes narrowed as you put your fry down in the basket, scoffing. 
“I asked,” you leaned forward, arms crossing on the table, his eyes doing their damnedest to not dart down to your cleavage, “why you brought me here, because I don't buy it was only because my stomach was making noises.”
Your tone wasn't sharp or accusatory, but it still put him a bit on edge. 
He took a deep breath through his nose, trying to get comfortable in his seat. You had a habit of putting him on edge, but in a way that made him crave more. It was almost adrenaline inducing. 
“Just wanted to treat you a little, that not allowed?” 
His collected, charismatic answer made you narrow your eyes. 
“You're not a very good liar.”
His lip quirked into a grin, diverting his gaze down to his empty glass before bringing his warm eyes up to your own again. His grin settling into a thin line. It wasn't exactly a lie.
“I didn't want you to wallow on your couch thinking about that Danny guy. You don't deserve to feel that way.” 
Your eyebrows rose, lip quirking. That definitely wasn't the answer you were expecting and it was still the wrong name, again. 
His eyes dart away from yours to the bar top. Clearing his throat, “you want another martini?”
You blink, breaking your thoughts, toying with the empty glass,  “yeah, I'll take another.”
Your eyes followed the way his body moved under his button up shirt that exposed a delicious amount of chest hair, and his worn, rich burnt sienna leather jacket. The way his stride exuded a rare sense of carefree confidence. The broadness of his shoulders under his jacket. The thickness of his fingers around the delicate glass of your martini. The way his golden locks of hair reflected the overhead lights of the bar and various neon signs on the wall you both were seated at. 
It made you almost forget that you knew what it felt like to have his bare skin against your own. It made you forget, for just a moment, that you’d been fucking this man with no strings attached. 
“Here you are, Sweets,”His smooth drawl derailed your train of thought that would have surely made you clench your thighs. 
He placed the martini on the table with an almost silent clank against the table, eyes bright and playful, the rich green color added by the neon cloverleaf above his head. 
Your lip quirked, “thank you…. You know I don't like it when you call me, Sweets, Hang.”
A smirk grew on his lips, “I think it suits you,” his gentle gaze on yours. 
You scowled, trying to repress the smile that threatened to break through. He didn't need more encouragement to call you these…you wanted to say demeaning titles, but that felt a bit cruel. It was more like a pet name, a source of teasing that wore your nerves down faster than any other trick he had in his well developed arsenal. He'd always been something akin to a wart. Once you caught him, he was hard to leave. 
“Fries any good?”
You looked down to the near-empty basket to his teasing features.  A small smile broke through as you gently pushed the basket to him. After all, he did pay for them.
You watched as he took a few and brought them between his perfect teeth, eyes darting between the sight of him dipping a few more in ketchup, to picking at your red manicured nails. A comfortable silence fell over the table and quiet conversation followed, from what plans were set for their work colleagues to hang out next, to whether Bob was going to ask Admiral Simpson’s new secretary out.
“I don’t think he’s gonna do it.” Jake said confidently as he leaned back against the booth, his arm over the back, his other hand holding his near empty glass of whiskey. Your eyebrows rose, feeling a bit more loose and warm since first sitting down, mostly attributed to the fact you were finishing up your third martini. You cracked a smile, eyes comfortably heavy, “you don’t know Floyd very well then.” His eyebrows rose, encouraging you to go on. You leaned forward, eyes bright and intense, just how Jake liked them, “you do know what Bob stands for don’t you?” His lip quirked, eyes bright and mirthful, “of course, baby on board.” You took a sip from your glass, rolling your eyes at his typical cocksure tone, “No, it stands for…” His brow quirked waiting for you to finish, his grin starting to form as he watched your eyes dance across the ceiling looking for the words in your impaired state. 
You leaned forward closer across the table, putting your pointer fingers up, biting at the inside of your cheek, losing your battle with the grin that wanted to gleam on your face, “it stands for Big Ol’ Balls.” His own laughter bubbled up in his throat as he watched you crumble into near hysterics at what had just left your mouth. 
His laughter settled while yours continued, failing to do anything else but just listen to the sweet noise. He had heard your laugh before, but he’d never had any significant part of bringing it out of you. He let a smile grace his lips at the sweet noise. As your laughter died down, he let his eyes wander to the jukebox in the corner and the thinning out crowd at the bar. He bit the inside of his cheek, the creases of his forehead showing as he listened to the song emulating from the speakers. 
“Do you wanna dance?” Jake asks, not fully thinking about the question. 
Your espresso martini almost did a full stop in your throat. Tonight had been a series of firsts with Hangman; sharing fries, him buying you drinks, and seeing you in your romantic element. Dancing together was an oddly intimate first. Sure, you’d both fucked each other’s brains out almost every other day, but dancing, well, dancing was something that seemed to be a step further than that. It didn’t involve a physical closeness attributed to taking your frustrations out on each other; it was two people flowing together, not trying to wrack each other’s physical resolve. It completely contradicted the original purpose of getting physically close to this insufferable, arrogant man; an outlet for pent up frustration through deeply satisfying, carnal escapades. 
Before you could stop yourself, you nodded. 
He rose up out of the booth first with a squeak, offering you his hand. Your deep brown eyes looking up at him, then darting to his outstretched hand, your lips parting. 
This was new, uncharted territory.
“I promise I won’t bite,” he reassured with a smile. He tried to not think about the way your red dress hugged your curves so deliciously, or how your cleavage almost spilled over the top of your garment. You had already had three martinis, and were definitely feeling the effects of them. He didn’t want to make you feel pressured into anything that you both typically took part in when you were this close physically. But he still wanted to be close to you. 
You bit the inside of your lip and, for reasons only God could tell you, you took his hand. 
He led you to the corner near the jukebox that was otherwise mostly emptied out. The beginning of England Dan and John Ford Coley’s I'd really love to see you tonight flowed from the speakers as Jake settled his hands on your waist, your own apprehensively around his neck, keeping your body upright as you let the initial beats flow through you in your relaxed state. His evergreen eyes traced over your melted brown ones, admiring the subtle flush of your cheeks to your low, lidded eyes. 
Hello, yeah, it's been a while
Not much, how about you?
Your eyes darted around his face, avoiding his eyes that seemed to solely focus on your own. His hands squeezed your hips. In attraction or comfort, you couldn’t quite tell. 
I'm not sure why I called
I guess I really just wanted to talk to you
You should have felt more alarmed by the close proximity and unorthodox reason behind it, but, and you didn’t want to admit it, the proximity felt nice. Maybe it was because of the drinks? It had to be  because of the drinks.
And I was thinking maybe later on
We could get together for a while
One of his hands left your hip to softly, ever so softly, to lift your chin up to meet his eyes. “What are you getting shy about?” The gentle smirk on his lips paired perfectly with his rich green eyes.
It's been such a long time
And I really do miss your smile
You swallowed, eyes trapped in a jade coated trance. “I think I just had too much to drink.” His lip quirked at your soft, almost whispered tone, holding you as you both swayed to the music. He knew you could hold more alcohol, but didn’t press. 
I'm not talking about moving in
And I don't want to change your life
He brought you closer to him, resting his head against the side of your own. Savoring the soft smell of citrus from your hair and the warm skin of your lower back against the palm of his hand, and the silk texture of your hand in his own. 
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I'd really love to see you tonight
This felt like the most alien and natural thing he had done with you. It almost made him forget that within only the last few hours, he was fucking you against the hunter green lockers, feeling you cum on his cock. 
We could go walking through a windy park
Or take a drive along the beach
He tried to not ruin the delicate moment he was having with you, and he figured his dick pressing into you might make you forget about all the good the night has brought between you two. A larger part of him than he cared to admit didn’t want to go back to the no-strings-attached arrangement he’d had with you for the past few months. 
Or stay at home and watch TV
You see it really doesn't matter much to me
He wanted more moments like this with you. But he could feel the apprehension that, as much as he didn’t want to admit, was mostly attributed to his reputation. In the months since first feeling you fall apart under him, he hadn’t slept with anyone else. Not even the desperate tag chasers in form-fitting maxi dresses at the Hard Deck. And that had to count for something. 
I'm not talking about moving in
And I don't want to change your life
He couldn’t help the pang in his chest; you were definitely open to dating other men. Could he really change your mind about him? 
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I'd really love to see you tonight
You had to admit, if someone had told you months ago that you would be slow dancing with Hangman in a nearly empty bar, and you wouldn't be trying to claw his throat out, you would have told them they’d been breathing in too much jet fuel. As much as you hated to admit it, it felt nice and, dare say, comforting being here with him. 
I won't ask for promises
So you don't have to lie
The soft texture of his jacket, warm hold, and soothing scent around his neck made you sigh. It was different from his usual mix of jet fuel, sweat, bergamot, and cedarwood. A part of you really hated how anything looked good on him and that he smelled amazing in whatever scent wafted off of him. 
We've both played that game before
Say I love you and say goodbye
“I’m sorry your date didn’t go well tonight,” You gently leaned back from his head, eyes meeting his own. Your eyes drooped comfortably as you looked over his face, trying to detect any sense of pity or ridicule. But all you found were warm, soulful, malachite eyes looking back into your burnt sienna ones under the neon lights. If your mind was clearer, you’d say it was romantic. But this was Hangman, and what he did best was no-commitment hookups in the dead of night. Not romance. It would take more than three martinis to make you forget that. 
I'm not talking about moving in
And I don't want to change your life
“Yeah, me too,” you muttered before leaning your head back on his shoulder. He swallowed gently, afraid that the movement would disturb you. 
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I'd really love to see you tonight
Jake continued to hold you close as slow songs continued to ebb and flow from the speaker, one after the other; trying to not let his mind drift to how this would play out tomorrow in your more sober mind, until he could feel your weight grow heavier against his body as you swayed gently. 
“Hey, Sweets,” he whispered against your hair. You hummed, eyes fluttered closed. “I should get you home.” You hummed in agreement, not having the strength to fight him on the pet name. Your sequoia-colored eyes peeking open, making him smile. 
He settled the tab, placing his leather jacket around your shoulders that wrapped you in warmth and the soothing smell of cedarwood and cinnamon. 
He walked you back to his truck, opening the door for you and making sure you were settled before closing the door. 
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The car ride back was silent as you tried to stay awake, listening to the slow country song on the radio, your eyes drifting shut. The smooth stall of the truck made your eyes flutter open. Jake gently reached out to you, gingerly rubbing the knuckle of his forefinger against your exposed forearm to get your attention. You flinched at the unexpected, soft, almost non-existent contact, body tensing. “We’re here, Sweets,” his gentle tone letting your body ease back into the seat. 
Before your mind thought to open the door, he was already on the other side opening it for you, and offering you his hand to step down. It was truly unfair how good he looked under the streetlights outside your apartment, with his unbuttoned shirt, sunglasses hooked in the front, and slightly disheveled hair. It made you wonder how you came to hate this man in the first place. But then again, hate was a strong word and maybe he didn’t deserve to have it placed on him. Maybe it was only because of the three espresso martinis he bought you, tinting your vision of who he was tonight. 
Jake didn’t ask if you wanted him to walk you to your door. He held your hand gently in a way that seemed unusual for him as he walked with you up the stone steps to your front door. “Thanks for tonight. I really needed it.” His face broke out into a soft, sincere smile, “anytime, Cherry.” Your lips tugged into a smile, diverting your eyes to the house keys in your hand. His eyes couldn't stop drawing to the strand of dark hair that kept getting in your eyes. Your gaze shot to him as he let his forefinger sweep the hair behind your ear. 
“You deserve to have fun every once in a while.”He murmured, eyes tracing over the fine features of your face and the rich color of your hair under the porch light. His soft eyes brought a certain warmth that you'd never experienced with him. 
You gave him a smile, as you fiddled with your keys, fighting off the blush that threatened to break through. 
“Do you think,” you swallowed, “that you could not tell anyone about my really shitty date?” Jake, putting on a small smile, nodded, “yeah, of course, Sweets. I mean, I think I did a pretty good job at rectifying the experience.” 
His gentle, carefree smirk made your lip tip up into a small smile and shake your head. 
You let go of his hand, resisting to admit that you missed the contact already. 
“I’ll see you on Monday, Hang,” you bid farewell. 
He watched with a gentle smile and warm eyes as you closed the door behind you, giving him a soft wave. 
His lips pursed, morphing back into a smile as he walked back to his truck. The night seemed to fulfill him more than all of your trysts combined.
It had to count for something that you didn't ask him to never mention your... date? if he could even call it that...
You leaned back against your shut front door, a smile on your lips that he had never brought past your lips. 
Maybe it was only because of the three espresso martinis and this haze would lift in the morning, and he’d go back to being Hangman. 
Or maybe, just maybe, he truly wasn't as bad as you thought. 
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gayleatherstories · 2 months ago
Text
The start of something new
Caring leather dom 46M looking for younger submissive bottom to take care of
I kept going back to the same profile. Ask me why and I couldn't tell you. Truth is, I'm as straight as they come, I just love anal play. I blame my ex to be honest. I had brought up wanting to try anal and the only way she agreed was if she got to peg me first. We fought about it because at first there's no way I was putting anything up there to which she pointed out the hypocrisy of that statement. Long story short I fucking loved it. I think a bit to much for my ex because a couple weeks later she dumped me.
Turns out not a lot of women seemed interested in the idea of topping me. I casually dated a couple girls but every time I brought up pegging or a strap on they seemed to peace out of the relationship. I couldn't get the feeling of being filled like that out of my mind though. So after a while I made a faceless Grindr account "just to see". And that's how I eventually ended up on this 'caring' Dom's profile. My eyes kept going back to his package. I decided to close the app and just keep it moving.
Later that day I saw I got a notification from Grindr.
I've noticed you've checked my profile a couple times. Hello!
I decided to respond.
Hi! Yeah, sorry! I'm just intrigued I guess! Sorry if that was weird haha
No need to be so apologetic boy. I just wanted to let you know that I don't bite ;) What are you looking for?
Him calling me boy made me feel weird but I didn't have anything to lose and I also didn't really think there was any harm in responding.
Well I'm in a bit of a pickle as they say. I'm straight but turns out I love anal play and I haven't really been able to find a girl willing to scratch that specific itch so to speak.
So you did a bit of mental word association with anal play and ended up on a gay app?
Hehe.. yup
Yup
Well, If you want your ass filled I might be willing to oblige. Depends on a couple things though.
Which are?
1. If I'm attracted to you 2. Your willingness to wear leather and/or rubber during playtime. If my profile didn't make it clear already I've got a bit of a kink you see 3. If I'm fucking you, no one else is.
I see
To be honest. I was getting hornier and hornier the longer this conversation kept going on. In my horniness I decided to sent a picture.
Well this is me. I'm fine with the leather/rubber, though I don't have any. And I'm also fine with just you doing that.
You'll do just fine. Some of my old gear will probably fit you. My name is Derrick by the way. You want to set a date?
Nice to meet you Derrick, I'm Steve. And how about next Saturday?
Saturday works. Here's my address. I expect you around 5pm.
And just like that I had set a time and place to get fucked in the ass by a man.
Saturday 4:57 pm
As I rang Derrick's doorbell I suddenly got hit by a wave of anxiety. What the fuck was I doing? I'm not gay. But right when I decided to turn back around and go home the door opened. Derrick was dressed like his picture. Decked out in full leather head to toe. He said hi and welcomed me inside. He offered me a beer which I eagerly accepted. I needed to take the edge off.
Turns out Derrick was a cool dude. We chatted about his work, my work, life etc. When I finished my third beer Derrick asked if I wanted to get down to business. Feeling a bit braver thanks to the alcohol I agreed.
First he took me to his bedroom where he had laid out two outfits he wanted me to wear. One was a leather vest, a leather jockstrap and leather chaps. The other was a rubber catsuit, a leather dog mask and leather mitts. I decided on the full leather look first. When I finished changing he took me in front of a full length mirror. We looked like a kinky gay couple. While I was mesmerized by my leather clad self Derrick stepped up flush against my back pushing his leather bulge between my cheeks.
"You're looking even more fuckable."
Truly at this point I didn't know what the fuck to feel. I clearly liked Derrick as a person and I definitely liked the current pressure on my hole.
"Thank you?"
"Why don't you try on the rubber option too, so you can make an educated decision."
To be honest I was quite intrigued so I threw caution to the wind and changed again. This time I needed his help to get everything on and when I was all dressed he told me to kneel so he could put on 'my collar' and take a picture. I felt safe behind the mask so I did as he asked.
"Good puppy. Now close those cute eyes for me I want to surprise you with the finishing touches."
Not going to lie I was horny as hell at this point so I just did as told. I heard Derrick open and close a drawer, walk back over to me and fiddle with my collar, cuffs and the back of my rubber suit. A couple of clicking sounds later he told me to open my eyes.
At first I didn't realise what had changed until I saw the locks dangling from my leather mitts. I was effectively locked in this outfit.
Before I could think to much about it Derrick asked me if I'd ever sucked a cock before. I told him that I hadn't. He proceeded to get a suction cup dildo out one of the closets in his bedroom and sticking it to the mirror 'so I could keep track of what I was doing'. He also unbuckled the dogmask and told me to start sucking it like I'd want my own cock to be sucked.
Since sucking another man's dick, real or otherwise, had never crossed my mind I hesitated. Derrick sensing my hesitation told me to close my eyes and start kissing it like I would kiss a girlfriend. I asked him if oral was really necessary to which he replied that he doesn't like using lube so the only way to lubricate his cock is with my own saliva.
So I started kissing the tip, the shaft, the balls and eventually took it in my mouth. Before long I felt Derrick's hand pushing my head further and further on the fake cock.
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elizaditton · 25 days ago
Text
Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 18)
Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter
"Hey," Kevin waves when Derrick opens the front door.
"Hey, glad you could make it," my deskmate says. "Where's Brittney?"
"Surprise!" Brittney shouts, popping out of Kevin's shirt pocket. She blows a party horn and throws a handful of confetti into the air.
"Sorry," Kevin says. "She insisted on making an entrance."
Derrick laughs. "That's Brittney for you! I wouldn't have her any other way!"
Derrick stands to the side of the door so Kevin and Brittney can enter the house. Kevin, I notice, has changed into a more casual outfit—jeans and a brown oversized t-shirt. Brittney, on the other hand, is still sporting her school uniform.
"Here," Brittney says, removing her necktie and shoving it into the pocket of the blazer she's holding out along with her bookbag. "Can you hang these up for me, babe?"
Without saying a word, Kevin pinches the green blazer and the bookbag between his fingertips and hangs them beside mine on the coat rack. As I watch him set them in place with one swift motion, I can't help but wonder if he's gotten used to handling human items. Derrick was so surprised at the size of my blazer when he held it, but Kevin seems unphased in comparison.
"Oh, yeah," Kevin says, turning to Derrick. "You said to bring a board game, so we brought Aventerra. There weren't a ton of options at my place."
"That works! Anything different from the usual is great!" Derrick says, taking the box in his hands. "We can only play Deduce and Roam Runner so many times."
Kevin nods. "Also, this is for you," he says, holding up a thin rectangular object. It's wrapped in some kind of shiny paper that's decorated with multicolored stars.
"And this, too!" Brittney exclaims, holding out a human-sized gift wrapped in what looks to be the same paper.
Derrick's eyes widen. "You guys didn't have to get me anything!" He says, holding up his hands.
"Go ahead, take them!" Brittney says. "What are friends for, anyway?"
Derrick laughs, taking the items. "Okay, okay, only if you insist."
I try not to look up at Derrick when he approaches the table to set down the Aventerra box and put the gifts with the others, but something in me gives in and I find myself staring higher and higher until my eyes finally meet his. My insides churn when he flashes a smile at me from above. I turn my eyes to the table's surface in an instant, but the image of him looming over me remains burned into my mind and causes my head to start spinning.
"Kaylin!" Brittney hollers, running from where Kevin set her down on the table and attacking me with a tight hug. "You came!"
"Can't...! Breathe...!" I manage through what little breath has yet to be squeezed out of my lungs by her embrace.
"Oh, sorry!" Brittney says, releasing me. "I'm just super glad you're here, since I wasn't sure if you were really coming! I figured it would be hard for you to show up to a party at a place like this because of your—"
Derrick clears his throat. "Hey, how about we get things started? Do you guys want to play Aventerra?"
Brittney's eyes light up as she smiles. "Yes! I'd love to!"
I hesitate, looking back at Mrs. Drake. She's wiping off the counter with the rag she used to dry dishes, but her eyes are focused on Brittney and I. I spin back around, and my eyes lock onto the table's surface. I try to concentrate on steadying my breathing, but all that manages to escape my lungs are quick, shuddery breaths to go with my trembling. I grab hold of one of my hands and squeeze it tight, trying my hardest to focus on the pressure instead of my rapid heartbeat.
"Kaylin?" Derrick asks.
"Y-yes?" I manage to answer while slowly craning my neck back to look him in the eyes.
"Would you like to play too?"
"Uh, maybe," I say. "But... don't you want to wait for more people to get here first?"
The room grows quiet, and I look around as I wait for a response. Brittney looks to Derrick with sadness in her eyes. Kevin glances away, a hand on his chin. I don't dare look at Mrs. Drake a second time. I take a step back and reluctantly peek up at my deskmate, who seems to be searching for something to say. He smiles.
"Since this is a last-minute sort of thing, it's only going to be the four of us. There aren't a lot of people who would be willing to show up to a party held at the last minute on a Forsday, anyway," Derrick chuckles.
"O-oh," I say, forcing a smile and a laugh.
"Anyway," Derrick says, opening the big, navy blue box labeled Aventerra, "let's begin, shall we?"
"Um," I pipe up, "would this game happen to have any heavy pieces?"
"It's actually really easy for humans to play!" Brittney exclaims, taking me by the hand and pulling me to the center of the game board Derrick just laid down. "It's even got one of these popping things, so we don't have to pick up the dice!"
Brittney stomps on a pedal with her foot, causing a pair of dice contained within a large plastic dome to tumble around with a loud pop. Taken aback by the unexpected noise, I flinch, only to gaze at the device before me in wonder.
"Is it really that easy?" I ask, looking to Brittney as if requesting permission to try rolling the dice myself. When she nods, I give the plastic pedal a gentle tap, and a loud pop fills my ears once again as the dice bounce around in the dome.
"Wow," I whisper, positive this is the first time I've laid eyes on a game like this. "I never thought a perthean board game would be this accessible to humans."
Brittney picks up a red disk the size of a bicycle tire with the words '100 soldiers' written on it. "All we really need to pick up are these tokens and some cards. It's really easy!"
"What do you say, Kaylin?" Derrick asks, crouching down to be eye level with Brittney and I. "Do you want to play?"
I glance over at Brittney, who, with a big smile, nods her head up and down vigorously. Kevin, almost predictably, has already pulled out his phone and begun to stare at it with an expression devoid of any life. Then my gaze rests on Derrick. My insides flip as I examine the great face before me, and my heart begins to pound when our eyes meet. I quickly turn away, placing a hand on a cheek that I'm sure has reddened by now as I squirm where I stand on the table. I want to look my deskmate in the eyes, but for whatever reason, I just can't handle the weight of his stare!
"Y-yes," I finally manage. "I'll play."
Mrs. Drake passes by the table and ruffles her son's hair. "You kids have fun. Your dad and I will be in the other room if you need anything."
"Right. Thanks, Mom." Derrick says, fixing his hair as she walks away.
The room grows quiet once more as Mrs. Drake closes a door somewhere down the hall. Derrick lets out a sigh and turns back to me.
"So, you probably want to know how to play, huh?"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
After a few minutes of explaining, confusion, and more explaining, I figured I knew enough about the game to give it a try. Derrick, being the birthday boy, went first when Brittney convinced him to, even though he initially wanted to decide who went first by dice roll as the rules directed. Since play was supposed to go clockwise, Kevin should have been next, but Brittney was too eager to roll the dice and ended up going before him. Kevin went after her, and I went last.
The game itself is simple— roll the dice, send out soldiers, and claim land. If the land you end up on is already claimed, fight for it by dice roll. I'm sure I'm forgetting something from Derrick and Brittney's explanation. But I figure if I try to memorize the rules in their entirety, we'll never get to play.
"You'd think all this land we're claiming would already have some owners, wouldn't you?" Brittney says, gazing at the soldier tokens Kevin just set down on his newly claimed territory.
"What?" Kevin says, his eyes narrowing in confusion at his girlfriend's statement. "The back of the box says it's a new world no one has discovered before. Why would there be people there?"
"Well, that's true," Brittney says, "but don't explorers sometimes say they've discovered new land when it's already being occupied?"
"But that would be lying," Derrick chuckles. "They wouldn't have discovered it at all!"
"Yeah," Kevin adds on, "what kind of psychopath would make a claim like that?"
"Ha! Yeah, just... a lot of Earth's explorers were like that, I guess," Brittney laughs nervously before turning to me. "Okay, your turn! Think you've got it figured out?"
"I think so. I'll send out 300 soldiers," I say, stacking three tokens and stepping on the dice pedal. After the two cubes settle down, I read the numbers on the top. "Three and one. Four?!"
My eagerness to play turns to panic as I realize that moving four spaces from start would land me on the space Kevin just claimed on his turn. I don't want to fight Kevin! I begin to shake as I stare at the dice with no clue how to proceed.
"Kaylin?" Brittney says, tapping me on the shoulder. "You good?"
"G-good? Y-yeah!" I utter through my trembling. "Just making sure I read that right."
I turn and begin walking towards the start space, the wobbling in my legs nearly causing me to trip with each step. What am I going to do? When I arrive, I lift my plastic red pawn and count the spaces in front of me over and over again to ensure I'm not making some kind of mistake.
Kevin taps the fourth space on the board in front of me, where he's stacked four of his blue soldier tokens. I gulp as a shudder runs down my spine. If I don't start moving, he's going to realize something's wrong with me for sure! I begin inching forward, my heart pounding in my chest with each step I take toward Kevin's claimed territory. After too short of a distance for my liking, I reach my destination and set my pawn down beside the stack of blue tokens.
"Well, well, well," Kevin grumbles, his low voice reverberating through the table and shaking me to my core.
I don't dare look up. I don't dare make contact with those narrowed brown eyes of his. Not when they remind me so much of...
SLAM!
I struggle to maintain my balance as various game pieces fly through the air and come crashing down all around me. My eyes snap to the right, widening as they land on the cause of this sudden disruption. Before me is a fist. Kevin's fist. I spin around, hoping to locate Brittney or Derrick, but they're nowhere to be found. Trembling, I begin to tiptoe away from the clenched hand.
"Thought you could escape?" Kevin asks, his booming voice reverberating through my body as he pinches the back of my shirt and lifts me high above the table.
"H-hey!" I protest, kicking my legs in a futile attempt to get away.
"Resisting? What a pity," Kevin sighs before a devilish grin spreads across his face. "Most tinies give up and let me win."
My heartbeat rings in my ears as one massive digit pins me between another, forcing the breath from my lungs and leaving me without any air. One by one, other fingers begin to curl around my quaking frame, trapping me completely. No, no! Anything but this!
"If you can't play nicely," he growls, lifting my head to meet those narrowed brown eyes of his as he tightens his grip, "then don't play at all."
All at once I'm thrown down onto the game board, where I land on my side with a loud crack. I don't have time to process the burning pain in my hip when, to my horror, the very same fist that threatened to squeeze the life out of me comes hurling down toward me from above.
SLAM!
"Hello?! Kaylin?!" Brittney says, shaking me by the shoulders.
"Y-yes?!" I answer, clueless to what's going on around me.
"Finally!" she huffs, releasing me. "We were getting worried! You've gotta stop zoning out like that, it freaks people out!"
"S-sorry," I manage, wiping away a stray tear with one of my trembling hands. "What's happening, exactly?"
"You were just about to beg for mercy," Kevin says with a wink.
My lip quivers as I take a step back, unable to tear my eyes away from the massive perthean looming above me.
Brittney lays a hand on my shoulder. "He's joking."
"300 soldiers, right? This stack here?" Kevin asks, pointing to one of my stacks of red soldier tokens by the dice.
"Y-yeah," I nod.
"Well then," he says, picking up the stack and setting it beside the stack that was already on his claimed space, "better hope for a high roll. As defender, I'll roll first."
I flinch when Kevin reaches around Brittney and I to tap the dice pedal. After a loud pop, the cubes in the dome settle down again, and we all lean in to see the result.
Kevin leans back in his chair upon seeing the two and the one he rolled.
"Three times four hundred... That's twelve hundred points," he sighs.
"Mhm," I hum as I rub one of my trembling arms.
"Come on, Kaylin!" Brittney cheers. "You can definitely beat him! That roll was pathetic! You've got this!"
"P-pathetic?" Kevin mumbles. "I thought you were on my side."
"Technically, nobody's really supposed to be on anybody's side," Derrick laughs.
Brittney crosses her arms and turns away from the boys, her bottom lip protruding in a pout. "I was just trying to encourage her, that's all!"
A soft chuckle escapes me as I step on the dice pedal. I bite the inside of my cheek and squeeze my eyes shut as the cubes dance around in their container. When they come to a stop, I reluctantly open one eye and see one of the dice landed on one. My heart sinks. I almost want to keep my eyes shut and pretend I'm not even playing this game.
"Wow! You did it!" Brittney exclaims, shaking one of my shoulders.
"I-I did?" I ask, opening both of my eyes to see the other die, which managed to land on five.
"Eighteen hundred points," Kevin says. "Good game."
As I allow my shoulders to relax, a smile creeps onto my face. I wasn't expecting to win at all! And I wasn't sure if I could expect Kevin to be a good sport about it, either.
Kevin swaps his four blue tokens for red ones and places them beside me.
"So," he says, grinning, "what would you like to do with your new land?"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The game went on for an hour or so, and things were really close between Brittney and Derrick during the last quarter. It was anyone's guess who the winner would be, but ultimately, Brittney came out on top.
After thinking through other games we could play, we decided to switch from board games to video games when Derrick suggested we play Super Crushers Ultra on his FlexPad. I wasn't sure at first, since I've never been a big fan of violent games. But then I learned I could play as Mr. Buck from Flower Forest, or even that lovable orange blob, Borbo! Since a kid-friendly character like Borbo was involved, I became convinced that the game couldn't possibly be as violent as I had initially worried it would be.
Derrick happened to have two sets of human-sized FlexPad controllers, which took me by surprise. I wonder how many humans he plays video games with.
"Gah!" Brittney says when Borbo is cornered by Luis, the blue electrician.
Derrick, not wasting the opportunity, proceeds to mercilessly mash buttons on his controller until poor Borbo is flung off screen by a powerful bolt of lightning coming from Luis' wrench.
"Not fair!" Brittney exclaims. "What did I ever do to you?!"
"You did take his land," Kevin says, moving the angry black cat, Eclipse, off a ledge and toward Luis. "Don't worry, I'll get him for you."
"I thought we weren't taking sides!" Derrick says as he continues to mash buttons.
I move Mr. Buck from ledge to ledge above the other two fighters, still not quite sure how to control him. Once Eclipse is thrown out of the arena, Luis jumps up in front of Mr. Buck! My heart beats faster and faster as I struggle to remember the right buttons to press.
"W-wait!" I plead. "Can't we talk about this?"
To my surprise, Luis stops.
"Oh, come on!" Kevin shouts. "You didn't even show any mercy to your own best friend!"
Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I look down at my controller. I didn't mean to make anyone angry.
"Hold on, I just want to see what she has to say," Derrick says.
My heart skips a beat. I didn't think my plea would get me this far. I turn back from my spot on the sofa's armrest to look up at Derrick, whose warm smile almost seems unfitting for a guy who just beat two of his closest friends in a video game without holding back.
"Well?" Derrick says.
"U-um," I utter, desperately trying to think of any string of words that could get me out of this situation.
Derrick tilts his head, waiting patiently for my response.
"Y-you..." I start, putting on the best impression of Mr. Buck I can muster. "You wouldn't hit a fellow with glasses, now would you?"
My deskmate is silent at first, but after a moment, bursts out laughing.
My heart sinks in my chest as my face turns a bright shade of red. What was I thinking? Why would I say something so stupid?
"That was really good!" Derrick laughs, wiping a stray tear from his eye.
I look up to my deskmate in surprise. "R-really?"
"Yeah! And you do have a point. I guess I wouldn't hit a guy with glasses."
"S-so you'll reconsider?!" I blurt out, hanging on to the last bit of hope I have left.
Derrick finally stops laughing and smiles warmly at me. "No, I don't think I will."
Before I even have the chance to turn back around, the sound of Mr. Buck being electrocuted fills my ears.
"WINNER!" declares the game's announcer as the blue electrician dances and the other characters clap.
"Sorry, Kaylin." Derrick chuckles.
My attention immediately shifts when I hear a door open down the hall, followed by some shuffling in the kitchen. My curiosity turns to trembling when I realize that Mrs. Drake couldn't possibly be alone in there. Who else could be with her? I look around the room, but the others don't seem to take notice of the noise as they go through the play-by-play of the game's last round.
All at once, the lights in the living room turn off. I let out a gasp as endless possibilities run through my mind. Could the power have gone out? Not if the TV is still on. Could something have short-circuited? Could someone have turned the lights off? What sort of nefarious reason could someone have to do that?
I turn to see a faint orange glow coming from the other side of the room, accompanied by two shadowy figures. One of them has to be Mrs. Drake, but I can't help but tremble as I glance at the two! And who's the tall, foreboding figure beside her?!
As the two figures approach Derrick, one of them begins to sing:
Happiest birthday, child of ours
Happiest birthday, light of our lives
Live years of joy and happiness
And know that we hold you so dear
I look to Derrick, whose face is illuminated by the glow of what I've come to realize is a candle sitting atop a birthday cake. One of his brows twitches as he forces a smile.
"Well? Aren't you going to make a wish?" asks his mom, cake in hand.
Derrick sighs. Then, closing his eyes, he blows out the candle.
"Yay!" Brittney says. She claps, but nobody else joins in.
"Mom," Derrick starts, once again forcing a smile. "I did tell you I didn't want to have cake tonight, right?"
"I thought you were only talking about dinner," Mrs. Drake says, her smile fading. "Besides, it's tradition to have cake on birthdays!"
"I know, but..." Derrick starts, flashing a worried glance in my direction before turning back to his mom. "Can't we save it for later?"
"Why don't we ask your friends if they're comfortable with— I mean, if they'd like to have some before we put it away?" Mrs. Drake suggests.
"I'll have some cake!" Brittney hollers, waving her arms in the air.
Kevin sighs. "You and that sweet tooth. You are way too excited for this."
Mrs. Drake laughs. "Of course, Brittney. You'll get some cake. How about you, Kevin?"
"Sure," Kevin shrugs.
"And how about you?" Mrs. Drake says, turning to me. "Would you like some cake?"
No, no! I want to shout. But instead, I bite my tongue and fold my hands in my lap, pressure building within me from the weight of everyone's stares. How am I supposed to get out of this?!
"Y-yes, please," I finally manage.
What have I done?! I could have at least said 'no thank you!'
"Then that settles it!" Mrs. Drake says, spinning on her heel and heading to the dining room.
Once she's gone, Derrick and I share a look. His brows are turned upward, and his blue eyes almost seem to be asking me if I really want to go through with this.
A quivering sigh escapes me as I bury my head in my knees. I want to go home.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I poke at the chocolate cake in front of me with the plastic fork in my trembling hand. I don't dare look up from the portable balcony Brittney and I are on, lest I be faced with the reality that I'm actually sharing dessert with pertheans. At least I'm not on the table's surface like I feared I would be, but I can't decide if being closer to these pertheans' faces as they eat their cake is any better.
"This cake is super good!" Brittney says, shoveling a big bite of what I'm certain is only frosting into her mouth. "My compliments to the chef!"
"Oh, it's not homemade," Mrs. Drake laughs, "it's from Stanley's. It was the only chocolate one they had, too."
"Store-bought, huh? I never would have known!" Brittney says as she examines the hunk of dessert on her fork. "Is chocolate your favorite, Derrick?"
Derrick, poking at his slice of cake with a fork, doesn't answer.
"Uh, Derrick?" Brittney tries again.
"Huh? What was the question?" Derrick looks up from his plate to the balcony Brittney and I are on.
"Is chocolate your favorite type of cake?" she asks.
"I don't know," he answers, returning his gaze to the plate in front of him. "I like a lot of different flavors. It might be John's favorite, though."
"Oh, if only the two of you were able to celebrate your birthday together," Mrs. Drake sighs, glancing at the banner that bears both of the brothers' names. "It's a shame we can't even wish John a happy birthday over the phone since he's away from Perthea."
"You know, you could have been on Erimathea too right now if you had studied harder," a low voice rumbles.
The room quickly quiets down to a deafening silence as Mr. Drake's statement hangs in the air. Dropping my fork, I reluctantly look up from the cake in front of me. I've avoided looking at Derrick's dad since we sat down, and now is the first time I'm getting a good look at him. His brown hair is a bit darker than his son's, and while Derrick's blue eyes are warm and welcoming, his dad's blue eyes are cold and narrow. I can't help but shiver in my seat as I gaze at him from the balcony.
"Well, studying abroad was more of John's thing," Derrick says. "I'm happy where I am."
"Hm, but you could have at least graduated early like your brother if you hadn't blown that equivalency exam," his dad continues. "Each subject on that darned test was 400 koroz."
"Jason," Mrs. Drake whispers, leaning in closer to her husband. "Maybe now isn't the best time for this, hm?"
Mr. Drake sighs before taking another bite of his cake. "It's just that I want both of our sons to succeed, Dianne. And Derrick still has a lot of catching up to do if he plans on getting into a decent university like his brother."
"You say that like I'm behind," Derrick pipes up from across the table. "I'm still getting good grades, and I'm on track to graduate."
"Hmph," Mr. Drake huffs. "Dropping out of a school like Pacific still won't look good on your applications, in my opinion."
"Jason, please," Mrs. Drake pleads.
My insides begin to twist and churn as my heartbeat quickens. I don't like where this is going.
"But I'm back to finish what I started. Isn't that enough?" Derrick says, narrowing his eyes at his dad.
Mr. Drake doesn't miss a beat, and narrows his eyes right back. "If you ask me, you should have stayed put at Pacific instead of running away from your problems. Instead, you let a little gossip run you out of a good school."
"Maybe we should talk about something more positive," Mrs. Drake laughs nervously. "You know, the yellow flowers on this cake are part of the reason—"
"I didn't run away, Dad," Derrick says, raising his voice. "I moved on, just like anyone else would have done."
Something breaks in my heart when I hear the shift in Derrick's tone, and I grab onto the edge of the balcony's table in an attempt to ground myself as the world begins to spin around me.
"Hey," Brittney whispers, tapping on my shoulder. "Kaylin? Are you okay?"
I open my mouth to answer, but the words don't come. I look down at my trembling hands as my breathing quickens and tears begin to blur my vision. This isn't good. This isn't good at all.
Mr. Drake raises his volume to match his son's. "You still called it quits when it got hard. You threw away everything you worked so hard for! Do you know how much it even cost to put you two in that school?"
"Please, you two! Settle down!" Mrs. Drake begs.
"And your brother!" Mr. Drake continues. "Did he let a little rumor decide his future for him?"
"It wasn't a little rumor, and he wasn't even involved!" Derrick retorts.
"But look where he is now! If you would have stopped fooling around and focused on what really mattered, you could have been lightyears ahead of where you are now!" Mr. Drake sighs, cutting into his cake with his fork. "If you put in the work like John did, you could have—"
Derrick jumps up from his seat and pounds the table. "Look! I'm not John, okay?! I'm sorry I'm not your favorite son!"
Mr. Drake rises. His tall, tall frame towers above the table and everyone around it, including Derrick. He stares his son down, his narrowed eyes seething with rage.
The edges of my vision begin to fade to black as my core tightens and my trembling becomes completely uncontrollable. I'm going to die here!
Mr. Drake stares down his son for only a moment before abruptly picking up his plate and leaving the table. He sets his plate in the sink and retreats down the hall, the loud slam of a door acting as his final addition to the conversation.
Derrick sighs, tearing his gaze away from the hall. That's when he finally sees me. His eyes widen, and he lets out a faint gasp.
"Kaylin?" Brittney says, placing a hand on my back. "Are you—"
Immediately, I turn away from Derrick and into Brittney's shoulder. Sob after gut-wrenching sob escapes me as tears refuse to stop falling from my eyes.
"Shh, it's okay," Brittney whispers, wrapping her arms around me. "It's over now."
"I-I—" I stutter as I try not to choke on my own sobs. "I want to go home."
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kevinsdsy · 5 months ago
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I'm firmly on the shawn/ derrick train but why do I feel like shawn has imagined being in a polycule with jerejean 👀
i feel bad for poor jeremy pining jean would definitely get that something's wrong so imagine everyone's teasing both of them in the gc and he's kind of fed up and says something like is it so bad that I can have friends ?? I'll talk to jeremy & shawn less if u all have so much to say abt it, now jeremy's crying, everyone's sorry, while jean's texting neil "I get why u act like a menace people treat u better when you're a danger to yourself" 💀
And when does the team show Jean thirst tweets—
I LOVEEE THIS INBOX HEHE thank you for sharing omg it makes my day when i see y'all perceiving shawn LMAOOO i mentioned in my headcanons that i intended to have derrick x shawn x derek happening at first so i think shawn imagining a polycule with jerejean is very very valid omg and i think it'd be so funny LMAOOO
also loved your take so much i made text messages for it in the new part (which is the reason for the bit delayed reply, sorry) but anyways thank you so much <333
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heavyisthecrown-if · 10 months ago
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Please ignore this if I've already sent it but Okay so how what would the ROs reaction to MC being asked out in front of them be..? (crushing stage vs. relationship stage)
Say we are at a royal ball or something 👀
Also very much debating between shutting my face and getting all my questions out. I'm so fascinated by this I have alot to say but I also don't wna clog your inbox 🤦🏻‍♀���
Please get all your questions out if you’d like, I’d love to answer them!
Derrick - [Crushing] He finds his eyes periodically drifting to you, the sheriff’s attempts at conversation ignored as he spots the noble sidling up to you. Their name doesn’t fully register in his mind, but he’s fairly sure they’re not a pleasure to be around. His grip on his cup tightens as they strike up a conversation with you and, much to his chagrin, you reply in kind. He urges himself to look away and back to the sheriff beside him.
[Relationship] He knew he shouldn’t have left your side the moment he sees your admirer. He stalks toward you, mumbling some choice words as he does. Lucky for him, others are quick to get out of his way. When he’s finally beside you once more, he slips an arm around your waist and fixes the guilty party with a glare. They quickly wither under his stare and depart without another word. “Sorry about that,” he whispers and gives you a wry smile.
Talia - [Crushing] She quickly looks away from you as you’re approached by a noble. She could see it in their eyes what their intentions behind the conversation were, and she thinks for a moment if they’ll truly earn your heart. She overhears bits and pieces of your conversation, and is desperately trying to hide her smile when you send them on their way.
[Relationship] She smiles despite herself before coming back to you. “I’m afraid they’re already taken,” she says, as polite as she can be, and slips a glass into their hand. “I’d be glad to point you to someone who isn’t, though.” The noble looks between you and Talia, decidedly dumbfounded before making their way back to the group they departed from. She leans in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. “At least they backed away, hm?” she mumbles.
Alex - [Crushing] “Godfrey, eyeing the prin(ce)(ss) again?” The deputy slaps a hand onto their shoulder, one they’re quick to shake off. They don’t respond to the man’s teasing, instead keeping their eyes locked on you and the rather snarky noble that’s cemented themself at your side. When the person’s intentions become clear, they shoot from their position and come over to you. Because they’re supposed to protect you, of course. No other reason.
[Relationship] They laugh awkwardly, shifting at your side when you’re faced with the confident flirting. It’s honestly commendable the poor soul hasn’t picked up on any hints you two have given them. “The spot’s filled,” they grumble the second the noble asks you if you’re free. Their offended expression almost makes Alex smile, but they hold back. “I think you should move along, mate.” They chuckle softly as the noble stomps away from you two, careful not to make it known it’s them they’re laughing at.
Z - [Crushing] They get to your side a moment before the other could and immediately make a show of speaking with you. You spot the noble sneering at them over their shoulder, a look you know they can sense given their smirk. “They looked like they wanted to bother you, thought I’d step in instead.” They usher you away from the noble- who still seems deeply bothered by the situation- with a hand on the small of your back.
[Relationship] They come up behind the person just as they begin to ask you a few too many personal questions, their pale hand sliding slowly over the noble’s shoulder. “Don’t you know they’ve already been wooed by someone else?” They gasp, holding their free hand to their heart. After a moment, they push the noble away and rub their hands on their skirt/trousers. “If you’d like to keep it in the family, I’m fairly positive the king is not in a relationship of any kind.”
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sumplysilly · 7 months ago
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new fav artist! please share your tips and tricks omg. who inspired you?? sorry I just LOVE your art style and perspectives and lines
Yippeeee yippeee yippeee!! Thank you so much I'm glad
I'm bigly influenced by a lot of comic & graffiti artists, I've done graffiti a long time & I wanted 2 do inks for comics when I was younger. I love energetic art w fun shapes. & I love art that has lots of colors but black shading to balance it out so it's still visually dark. & I fucking love good (thick) lineart. A lot of my inspiration nowadays is from my cool mutuals online & cool stuff I see irl but the big 4 that really got me into art are Derrick J Wyatt, Dave Guertin, (idk who did the OoT/MM art), & Sam Kieth)
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My 1 art tip is fuck around & find out
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regularme12 · 4 months ago
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Terrick tickles
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A/N: I'm making this bc the last episode hurt me sm, and I can't see them NOT getting tgt😫. Sry if some of the words are misspelled, I have acrylics on and it's hard to type with 😭.
Summary: Trevor and Derrick finally gets some alone time from the other campers, and Crystal. So what better way to spend it with some good ol' bonding.
Trevor and Derrick both sat in the tent awkwardly, nothing to say, nothing to do, totally bored out of their fucking mind. But the silence was soon broken when Trevor spoke, but then cut off by Derrick.
"So-" Trevor.
"Any-" Derrick.
They both looked at each other, than laughed awkwardly. "Hahah, sry, u can go, Trev."
"Hahaha, so anyways, what do u wanna do? Now that Crystal is hosting another game." This couldn't get any more weirder Trevor was thinking. He loves Derrick so fucking much, he j wants to lean in and kiss them soft... delicate... lips- WAIT! What was he even thinking?! Derrick's probably not even into him, let alone gay! But still, that's all he was thinking about...
"Idrk, man. Wish Crystal was here, then we'd have a blast, huh?" Derrick thought out loud. But that only made Trevor sad that his lover don't even think he was fun at all, just a stick in the mud.
"Oh, u really want her here, I assume."
Derrick looked at the taller one with confusion written all over his face. "He seems sad abt that." the shorter one thought. Then he looked down to Trev's clothes, and saw a thread hanging from his everyday wear. Then he decided to pull up, but he pinched so close to his side that it made Trevor jump and swing to the other side. "Woah, what was that?!" And it was clear that the latter looked super embarrassed, his face was tomato red, and his eyes would pop out any second.
"It-It was nothing."
Ans wiyh the cherry on top, Derrick had a sly smirk and he kept invhing forward. "Is someone..."
"No! Don't come any closer Derrick, I'm warning u..."
He kept going, "...ticklish?" Then that's when he struck. He jumped on his friend, pinning him down, kneading the latter's hips.
"Gajahhah, Derrick, nohohoho!!!" He kept writjering away, to no avail.
"Awww, is the lil Trevor tickwish on his hips???"
"Dohohohn't talk in that vohohohoice, Derrick!! Ahahahah!!!"
Trevor then moved on to his ribs, digging his thumbs in and moving them around. "Come on Trevor, don't tell me teasing gets you all riled up."
"Ihihit DohohoEsN'T!! Ihihi just, Ihihihi DON'T KNOW!! DERRICK NOT THEHEHEHEERRE!!" He started arching his back and falling on the ground.
"Wowww, your armpits are heavily ticklish, huh? You want me to stay here? Or go somehwere else?~" Derrick is circling the outside of his armpits, keeping him in suspense while he was thinking of the answer.
"Gohoho somewhere elehehehse, please..." Trev started fidigting with his fingers, while lightly giggling.
Derrick started staring at his lee's teary eyes, red cheeks, and his sweaty face. No way he's getting turned on... is he?
His trance was broken when Trevor spoke up, "Uh, Derrick?" Trev's eyes were halfway open, and halfway shut. He was kinda squinting, but not really.
"Oh. Sorry, here let me go... to this spot. Your belly button." He lightly traced his finger nail down the sweaty body and dug into his navel.
"AH!! Deheheherrrick!! Gahahahah!!" Trevor wiggled side to side, but made no effort to acctually stop.
"Wow, you're enjoying yourself aren't ya?" Derrick lightly circled inside his innie, waiting for a response.
"Whahat?! Nohoho way!!" But it was clear that that was a lie.
"What do you mean, no way? I let your arms go free, and u haven't made a move to push my arms away, nor were you telling me to stop. I'm no genius, but even I can tell you like this."
"Ihihihi do not lihihihike it!!" But still, all he did was wriggled side to side with his hands inclosing the other's wrists.
"Awww, come on you like it when I circle your belly button, or draw teasy patterns on your ticklish tummy, or claw the inside of your hollow armpits, or..."
"DAMN IT!! Juhuhust stop, Dehehehrrick!!"
"Stop what, the tickling or the teasing?" Derrick knows Trevor would pick the teasing, but still, the lee had other plans in mind. Not good ones, but he definitely said them.
"Fuhuhuck you, Derrick."
"I don't think you're in a position to be snarky, remember who's under who." And with that, Derrick brought his hands down to the latter's inner thighs, and needed them.
"GAH!! *Squeak* NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!! NOHOHOT FUHUHUCKING THERE, DEHEHEHRRICK!!" Now it's becoming real. Trevor started hiccuping, squeaking, and screaming. Then he brought his free hands and kneaded Derrick's hips. Derrick yelped and jumped.
"GAH! Dohohon't fucking tickle me you jerk!" The ler grabbed the lee's hands and sat on them. Trevor might be the taller one, but Derrick wins with the strength. "Don't expect me to go lightly on you now, this is war."
Trevor finally got himself in some deeper shit then before. He was having a hard time now, but when Derrick said that? Oh, he is praying for his down fall right now. "Wait, Wait, wait, Derrick please!!! I'm sorry all right? It's just... my thighs are my absolute worse, I can't control myself, and me tickling you was a fight or flight response. I mean no harm, honest!! And it's not like I done wjat you're doing right now!! This is way worse!! It's Torture!!"
"Wow, Trevor. Hahaha, you said everything and nothing at the same time. If this is torture like you said, then you shoulda told me to stop from the get go. So be prepared for the worse has yet to come!!" Then it did, he clawed his inner thighs so hard the lee was crying and screaming. How no one came to check up on them, was a mystery.
"*Long pause* OK! OHOHOKAY!! DEHEHEHERRICK I'M SOJOHOJORRY!!! JUHUHUST PLEASE STHOHOHOP!! I CAN'T TAHAHAHKE NO MORE!!!" There was the word Derrick wanted to hear.
He stopped tickling him, and moved lower down where he was sitting on Trevor's thighs. Trevor layed there breathlessly, Derrick, on the other hand, brought his hand up to wipe away his tears. Trevor flinched then relaxed after he found out what his crush was doing. "Easy buddy, it's ok, I'm sorry I went over board."
Trevor took a moment of silence, waited flr his breathing to go back to normal, then he sat up. They locked eyes, it was silent. The only thing they can hear is the sound of people arguing and fighting. Yep, it was another challenge, guess they gotta go and help, right? But then, all of a sudden, Derrick leaned in, and closed his eyes, while Trevor did the same. It was a passionate one, and a dreamy one at that. Crystal walked in to see what's taking them so long, but she was stopped in her tracks after finding this display. "Well, guess I gotta go do this one on my own then." She thought, walked away, and smiled.
Secrets aren't meant to be shared, so she didn't tell anyone what happened, not even the love birds themselves.
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augustheart · 1 year ago
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doom patrol finale review
character-by-character breakdown:
vic's ending is definitely the best. i love this for him and i think it's the natural progression of his character in this show especially considering little moments like his relationship with baby doll--he's so good with kids of all ages and this is definitely where he would've ended up... maybe not regardless of what happened after he became cyborg, but i think this was definitely an "all roads lead to compassionate mentorship making a difference home" ending for him. i also think he and derrick should get married but that's secondary.
larry's ending is second best for me. to be clear i have no idea what the fuck they're gonna do now but i am very happy for him. we should all wish to be endgame with sendhil ramamurthy.
i really, really wish i liked k's ending but because tv-verse casey is so Nothing i don't care for it. i have complex feelings about the original morrison plot point the underground's coexistence in this way is based on but i think the show handled it fine. but i'm glad they're happy and i think them going by K is nice because it's a reflection of the fact that k-5's chosen name in the underground is k-5, not kay challis. they can't identify with that name because of trauma, but they can reclaim the girl. i may be talking myself into liking it more just by writing this. but i still wish tv casey was actually a character/anything like her comic book counterpart. she doesn't even get to have her own paragraph here.
i think i like cliff's ending. i don't like that it presents being with clara in florida as home when i don't think that's been the case at all throughout the show, but i do think i like it other than that. especially as someone who has been a fan of this character in the comics for years and wants him to be able to finally rest after outlasting so many in his life. i also find divorce having so thoroughly infected cliff's family to be hilarious. only clara and mel escaped the divorce curse.
laura's ending is good. no notes.
rita's ending is so, so close to being good. i actually really like it. she was the first with niles and she's the first to leave without him. but i don't care about agent ! in the slightest. sorry. he just doesn't mean anything to me. but i do think her getting her happy ending is good. i wish larry brought something of hers with him when he left, though. they love(d) each other so dearly until the end even when they were annoying the shit out of each other.
dorothy not being in the finale at all and only being mentioned once is very weird. where's my baby girl!
in terms of other things:
i think they should've wrapped up the actual plot of the season in the last episode so this one just could've been a homecoming finale, because as it is it felt rushed and weird. (i have similar criticism of the stargirl finale, but i give that a little more wiggle room because at least the climax happened. like. onscreen?)
clint mansell's score still goes beyond crazy because he's never composed something that doesn't fuck supremely imo
i am inherently prejudiced against stories that are like "and then they all went their separate ways but remembered their wacky found family fondly" at the end but i think the way they did it here was probably the best they could've done if they wanted to go that route.
i think my season ranking is 1, 4a, 3a, 4b, 3b, 2? maybe? as you can see those middle two are kinda wishy-washy, but i do still really like (...for the most part) the beginning of this season and of season three.
i have more thoughts but i'm having trouble formulating them. if anyone wants a more detailed look at something i left out then feel free to ask.
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jeding-png · 3 months ago
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I thought I was ready not to cry or how chapter 159 had tricked me.
I read the new chapter twice. I watched each frame twice. I even read that chapter of the novel twice today.
And you know what, dear readers? TO HELL WITH ALL OF IT!
Warning! This chapter is mostly about Derrick.
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A familiar face, right? At least for me, because my mother also got angry and tore the leaves out of the notebook when I wrote incorrectly something.
But here Derrick is scolded not because of bad handwriting, but because he dared to question Winter's involvement in the investigation, while Derrick himself was removed from it.
And you yourself know that the phrase "I love you more than the child of my best friend!" is very pleasant, but not always true. :^
"If Marquis Verdandi not give the antidote, we would already be preparing for the funeral!"
However, the Duke notices some very strange behavior in Derrick. His eldest son's trembling body, a confused look and muttering that this is impossible.
Remember how Reynold disclosed that he had a strange dream, as if Penelope was beating Ivonne? On the eve of the conversation with that btch, Derrick also had a similar dream!
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Okay, you can stop and enjoy this image for a few minutes. The main thing is to remember that this is not the reality you dream about. I will wait for you..
Again, the feeling of déjà vu, again the scene in the head about how Ivonne must always suffer at the event that is connected with Penelope.
According to unofficial information, the duke thought that Derrick was drunk, so he quickly asked him to leave the office so that his carpet would not be damaged.
Then it was something like this:
Duke Eckhart: Derrick, my son... you better go to your room to rest...
Derrick: But...
Duke Eckhart: STFU, small scum This is an order.
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Do you remember this woman? You know... the one who didn't immediately listen to Penelope at the beginning of the manhwa? Yes, the head maid. Well... she's also brainwashed! :D
So this old lady told Derrick that Ivonne was single and looking for the young duke. No, Derrick didn't go to her right away! Can you imagine? His body did not listen to him (because he had problems with his head), so he left.
Okay..... now....
🔊
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KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—!!
DERRICK IS SMILING! I THOUGHT I'D SEE THIS IN A FEW YEARS!!!! AND LITTLE IVONNE. LITTLE IVONNEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!
🔇
Phew... yes, thanks. Sorry, I can't help myself when I see these two together... when they're children... when they're not two bastards.... *sobs*
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As you can see in the second photo, this girl is holding a piece of mirror that she is brainwashing with. Although her smile scares me.
A sweet voice full of hesitation and hope and emotion when Derrick told them to go to Penelope's coming of age together. Tears of happiness and worry about whether they would disturb Penelope... that's all Derrick remembers, not the blue glow of the artifact.
There was a very nice and interesting frame, as the many fragments show Penelope and the various scenes that Derrick remembers.
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"Young duke."
...............................................🔇
Of course, our Penelope is beautiful, but we definitely remember chapter 19 and we definitely remember that she looked different.
Derrick, wth? But at least the blue glow in this dude's eyes is going away, thanks.
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You know, you can skip reading this post because you'll be looking at Callisto flying sitting by Penelope's bed.
It is literally the sun. The sun at the end of this chapter. The sun after all the sad moments. The sun that will finally crush us with his words.
Callisto is beautiful. Even in the blood of his loved one, but the way he listens carefully to the doctor about Penelope's condition, and then gently takes her hand in his... the touch of his lips to Penelope's palm... I'm melting.
But it seems that you need to open the window or vacuum the dust. Here is a sick person, guys-!
Suffocated for a few more chapters before the end of the season... and we'll be left heartbroken and red-eyed.
G-good news! The next chapter begins with Callisto and Penelope's moment! ^^'
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ask-derrickman · 1 year ago
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Rain saw my colleagues doing this and would not let up until I did as well, I'm already starting to regret it...
ooc: [Inbox is currently open]
[More info under the read more yes]
--- --- --- --- ---
(YEAAHG ASK BLOG TIME seeing all the ttcc manager blogs around lately slowly pushed me into trying it out myself since I hadn't seen one with my beloved boy yet, taskline manager enjoyers rise up)
(And of course now for the obligatory forewards and rules I gotta bring up:
- Not technically a 100% canon-compliant Derrick Man (well... as much as you even can with him), the one on this blog is actually based on a still nameless AU I've thrown together, he's not very drastically changed as a person though hes still grumpy and boring and full of oil but its enough to mention probably (he may mention things in passing sometimes too if the topic comes up)
- On the topic of that too, shipping between William and Rain and William and Chip will probably come up occasionally, im normal im normal guys im normal
- Headcanons galore, well- I mean as is a given for a character with so little official content to be fair, i don't wanna ruin the fun by listing everything though (also because we'd be here all day)
- This blog claims no direct affiliation with any other character's askblogs, or any other blogs in general for that matter aside from my main, all characters depicted in my doodles as well are my own spins on them and unrelated to any other askblogs too (please feel free to keep sending me jokes from other askblogs though like the spayed bellringer thing i think its funny as fuck) ((this is not to discourage anyone elses blogs from interacting though I'm just noting this so its at their own discretion))
- Please behave in the inbox, I will not answer any asks that are very blatantly explicit or anything, this blog is technically being run by a minor keep in mind, also this is a toontown blog so like... idk what you're expecting from me to begin with dude
- Speaking of me, feel free to bully William i love that but I'd appreciate if you... try to go easy on the me behind this, im the only person running this blog and im disabled with a busy irl life so updates will be slow, I'm just having some fun with my blorpos here
- Not every ask is going to have a drawing alongside it too by the way, I dont quite have the stamina for that, and sometimes the inspiration doesn't strike, my apologies
That should be all unless i think of something else to add here, YEHEA! go crazy sorry that this is so long by the way thats my bad)
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pain-in-the-butler · 1 year ago
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I hope this question doesn't bother you, but I wanted to ask you a bit about that weston arc rewrite you mentioned once in your tags? Like, any kind of info is welcome.
Hi again, friend! It's not a bother to be asked things like this in the least! And I'm definitely excited to ramble about my writing, so thank you! Here's some bare bones of what I've thought up for this AU so far:
Cricket's O-U-T. Yana did fine with the sports angle, especially in retrospect (at the time, everyone was sick of it), but I want to focus on character drama because I think it's juicier -
Instead, I'm changing the angle of the Weston arc to consistently be about the school's social dynamics, with the emphasis on becoming a prefect's fag like it was in the canon arc's first half -
Being a prefect's fag in this AU means automatically becoming a prefect when the prefect graduates (can't remember if this is what it means in the canon story). Therefore, these positions are sought out by students who care about the hierarchy to any degree -
Maurice Cole is going to have a slightly different role this time around. He's not Redmond's fag yet but he wants to be more than anything. As a second-born son, he sees it as the one chance he'll get in life to feel what it is to have an inheritance, and so he and that enormous chip in his shoulder covet the position like anything -
I want Cole's villainy to be much campier. Instead of threatening actual violence and humiliation, he merely threatens to kick boys out of his posse. However, he has pretty big plans for the school — plans that would make particular students want to stay in his good graces... -
Students in different dorms will get along and become friends. The standoffishness between dorms was really just there in the canon to make it easier for Yana to hide certain details until later down the line, but it doesn't actually make much sense. There won't be so much rivalry this time -
While I'm going to try not to venture fully into Dadbastian territory, I do want Ciel and Sebastian to examine their relationship more closely following the Campania incident and consider what they would feel if the other was out of their lives forever. Is Ciel just a meal and is Sebastian just a loyal dog? Or do they actually maybe care about each other's well-being? I wonder.................. -
Sebastian wouldn't be a professor this time! Sorry, but I just never bought him becoming a dorm master so easily. Where'd the old one go? Do the Blue House students not see Seb's arrival as weird at all? Don't they have any loyalty to their last dorm master lol?? The idea's frankly too underdeveloped -
Instead, Sebastian is going to work in the Blue House kitchens as a chef. He isn't very excited about being so out of the way from the action, but Ciel has his reasons for wanting him there... -
The student body will talk about Derrick Arden going missing as if it is an actual big deal. But there will be more details that muddy the waters around Derrick's disappearance... as well as revelations that come to light sooner than they do in Yana's telling -
Now for the biggest change: it will be addressed to the reader from the get-go that Ciel is pretending to be his brother. I have always wanted to explore what it would be like if we knew from near the start that Ciel was faking his entire identity. The Weston arc may not take place close to the beginning of Kuro, but I think it's as good a chance as any for me to showcase how revealing Ciel's identity early on pointblank has a lot of potential for drama and character building
There's a lot that I haven't really decided yet, to be honest, but there are also a few twists and tricks that I would LOVE to mess around with. I kind of let my stories slowly incubate over time, though, so I hope when I actually get to writing this, everything will be in place and I can just go for it. It should be a very fun project, if and when the time comes...
Thank you for asking! I hope this answer piqued your interest... though it'll probably be another two years before any of it gets written lol 😈
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elizaditton · 6 months ago
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Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 17)
Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter
I struggle to support myself on Derrick's shoulder as he walks. I was having a hard enough time balancing when he was sitting still, so trying to steady myself as he moves definitely isn't any easier.
As I hold onto my deskmate's shirt collar for dear life, I scan the horizon for any sign of that tree. Since I was always in Derrick's hands when he walked me home before, I was never able to see too much of the surrounding area. Now that I'm up here on his shoulder, I can see everything: stores, houses, cars, and of course nature. It's unreal seeing it all with my own eyes! But as I look around, I can't seem to spot that cherry tree.
Derrick wouldn't take a detour, would he? Since the apartment is so close to the school I highly doubt it, especially since he knows how in love I am with that cherry tree. But if we haven't taken a detour... why have we been walking for so long? I know I wasn't able to see much scenery before, but why don't I recognize anything at all?
"Here we are," Derrick says.
I gaze up at the blue house in front of us. This is not my apartment.
"Um," I start, "where are we?"
"What do you mean?" Derrick asks. "This is my house."
I nearly lose my footing when my legs threaten to buckle beneath me. He took me to his house?! For the party?! Why?! What happened to asking my dad first and helping him with... that thing?!
Panic sets in as my deskmate reaches for the front door. What should I do?! I can't stay here!
"W-wait!" I stammer, hoping to get Derrick's attention.
"Yes?" He asks, a note of confusion in his voice. "What's wrong?"
"I-I— um, I think there's been a misunderstanding!" I blurt out.
"A misunderstanding?"
"Y-yeah, I... didn't think we were coming here. I thought you were taking me home."
Derrick rubs the back of his neck. "Oh. When I asked you before we left, I thought you said you wanted to come over."
My heart sinks. "I-I don't remember," I utter, my core twisting and tightening at my current predicament.
"I'm sorry," Derrick says. "If you want me to, I can turn around and take you home."
"Are you sure? You wouldn't mind it?"
"If you're not ready for this, I don't want to push you," he says as his brows turn upward.
"Then could you—"
Before I can finish answering, the front door opens.
"What's the birthday boy doing standing around out here?" asks a woman with long, wavy brown hair and big green eyes.
"Oh, we were just— I mean, I was about to—" Derrick stammers.
"Well, don't just stand there," says the woman, smiling warmly. "Come in, come in!"
The woman grabs hold of one of my deskmate's hands and pulls him into the house. The unexpected movement causes me to stumble, but Derrick catches me in his free hand before I fall and holds me close to his neck. My heart pounds and pounds in my ears as heat radiates from my reddening cheeks. I thought we were close before, but this?! This is a little too close!
"Mom, I need to—" he starts. "Hey, what's this?"
When Derrick pulls his hand away from me, I scramble to regain my composure. Once I'm able to balance myself on his shoulder I look around the room and see it's decorated with balloons, streamers, and gifts. There's even a banner that reads 'Happy Birthday John And Derrick.' I blink, cocking my head to the side as I read the sign. Who's John? My eyes widen and my heart bangs against my ribcage. How many more people are coming to this party?!
"Don't go thinking I wouldn't decorate just because your brother's not here!" Derrick's mom exclaims.
I forgot Derrick has a twin brother who's away for university. As curious as I am to see how alike the two look, I'm relieved to have another perthean out of the picture.
"Right," Derrick says. "Anyway, Mom, I need to take—"
"What do you think?" His mom asks, clasping her hands together. "I know yellow is your favorite color, so I tried to use as much of it in the decorating as I could."
"Um, it's great! But really, I need—"
"What time are your friends coming over again?"
"5:30. Which is why I need to hurry and—"
"And who's this?" The woman says, leaning towards Derrick's shoulder with her eyes fixed on me.
A shiver runs down my spine as I struggle to think of something to say. "H-hello, m-m'am," I wave.
"This is Kaylin, my deskmate," Derrick says. "And I need to take her home."
"Home? But you just got here!" Derrick's mom says with a frown.
"Well, yes, but I was only... I mean, I just wanted to show her where we live. It was on the way," my deskmate lies.
"I see," the woman says with a smile. "Well, Kaylin, you're welcome to stay if you'd like! I'm sure your deskmate would enjoy your company on his special day."
Guilt builds up in my chest. What was I thinking letting Derrick walk me all the way back home? And on his birthday, no less! He should be using this time to prepare for his party, and here I am forcing him to deal with me. Should I really be treating him like this?
My heart sinks when Derrick turns to leave. This is my last chance. Can I really do this? Will I really be able to make it through this party?
"Hey," I whisper.
Derrick stops in the doorway. "Yeah?"
"It's... okay," I mumble. "I'll stay."
"You will?" Derrick says, his eyes wide and a smile spread across his face.
"Mhm," I hum, although something deep down inside of me still wonders if this is really a good idea. "I think it would be fun to... hang out with you. Outside of school, that is."
Derrick looks down, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "It means a lot to me that you'd say that. But Kaylin," he says, shifting his gaze back to me, "are you sure you're ready for this?"
"I... um," I think for a moment, unsure of what to say. Am I really ready? Do I think I'll be able to handle this? "Well, I don't know. But what I do know is that I want to be here."
"Okay," my deskmate says. "But only if you're sure."
"Don't worry. I'm sure." I say, although the doubts running through my mind don't make me feel sure at all.
What if Derrick misplaces me in such a big house? What if a ton of people are coming over and he forgets I'm even there? What if I get stuck somewhere? What if someone doesn't notice me on a table or counter and I'm knocked around or squashed?
Anxiety wells up in my core as Derrick turns around and closes the door behind him, sealing my fate.
"Oh?" Derrick's mom pipes up from in front of the kitchen sink, where she's begun to wash dishes. "Change your mind?"
I give a shaky nod from my place on Derrick's shoulder. "I-I thought I might as well stay, since I'm here and all."
"Wonderful!" The woman smiles. "Make yourself at home! If there's anything I can do for you, just let me know."
"Th-thanks," I stutter.
Mrs. Drake's brows turn upward for a moment as she smiles. As she returns to washing the dishes, I can't help but wonder if she's caught on to my fear. I need to get a hold of myself! I can't keep stuttering like this! I don't want anyone to think I have anything against pertheans!
"Derrick, honey, don't you want to change into something more comfortable before your other friends come over?" My deskmate's mom asks.
Derrick looks at me with worry in his eyes before looking back to his mom. "I don't exactly want to leave Kaylin alone. Since she's already here, I mean."
"She won't be alone. I'll be right here the whole time," Mrs. Drake beams. "And besides, I'd love to get to know her!"
My gut twists into a knot within me as my arms and legs begin to shake. Left alone with Derrick's mom?! How in the world am I going to handle that?! I immediately start to regret my decision to stay at this party as Derrick raises an open palm to his shoulder for me to step onto. Taking a deep breath, I release my grip on the collar of his shirt and carefully inch towards his hand. I don't know how I'd ever live it down if I stumbled in front of another perthean!
My deskmate lowers his hand onto the kitchen table, and I somehow manage to step onto the hard surface without flailing around much. A hollowness suddenly overtakes my core like a punch to the gut as Derrick removes his hand, leaving me stranded where I stand. The table is much lower than the average balcony, and my head starts to spin as I crane my neck back to look up at my deskmate from the wooden surface.
Noticing my struggle, Derrick crouches down in front of the table. Now he's the one looking up at me, but his size is still so overwhelming to me. He's just so... big. His face nearly fills my entire field of vision! I back up a bit, clutching at my skirt as anxiety floods my nervous system. He's so close. We were close before when I was on his shoulder and when he held me to his neck, but... this is just different. And I'm not so sure I like it.
"Will you be okay?" Derrick whispers.
I let out a deep, trembling breath. "I-I will be. You can go."
When Derrick stands to his full height, I don't dare look up at him again. I keep my head down as my heart pounds and pounds in my chest, begging me to find someplace to hide. Once Derrick leaves, the sound of the running faucet is all that fills the room.
I spin around and see Mrs. Drake continuing to work on the dishes. If I'm lucky, she won't say anything, and I'll only be waiting a short while for Derrick to come back. I figure this is as good a time as any to let Dad know I won't be home for a while. I pull my phone out of my skirt pocket and slide over to my text conversation with him. I write what comes to mind.
Won't be home until later.
I pause. What am I supposed to tell him? Do I really tell him I'm at my deskmate's birthday party? That would be a huge win in his book. I can picture my dad now gloating about how he was right in sending me to Pacific. I shake the thought away and add to the the message.
A friend wanted to hang out.
I gulp, silently hoping he won't ask any further questions, and send the message. It takes a moment, but eventually I get a single thumbs up emoticon in response. I let out a sigh of relief.
"So..." Mrs. Drake says as she glances over her shoulder at me. "Kaylin, right?"
"Mhm," I nod.
"And you're new to Pacific?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She hums in response, returning her gaze to the dishes in the sink. "And... have you always lived in town?"
"Actually, I just moved here. I was born and raised in Maedri," I answer.
"Oh, Maedri!" Mrs. Drake says with a wavering tone. "I heard they have a bustling undercity there."
"Y-yes," I stammer, "it's pretty expansive compared to Chancelor."
A moment of silence passes us by. I watch quietly as Mrs. Drake sets various plates, bowls, and utensils on a rack to dry.
"It would be easy to live entirely underground without ever seeing a perthean then, wouldn't it?" She finally asks.
My heart sinks. What's she getting at? "O-oh, I guess so," I say.
She hums again. "And... might I ask what brought you to a school like Pacific?"
I swallow dryly as my legs quiver beneath me. What am I supposed to say to that?!
"U-uhm," I start, begging my voice to come out without any more stutters, "my dad wanted me to go to his old high school."
"Ah," the woman says. "And would you say you're... handling everything well?"
She has to be onto me. Why else would she be asking me all these questions?
I'm about to answer when I hear footsteps approach from behind. Finally.
"Sorry I took so long," Derrick says, emerging from the hallway. "Kevin and Brittney are on their way, I just got off the phone with them."
As I turn around, my eyes take in every aspect of my deskmate's attire. Jeans and sneakers, a striped yellow and white t-shirt, and a gray and yellow jacket. He's dressed so... casually! I stare down at my school uniform. I feel overdressed.
Derrick chuckles at the sight of me. "Sorry you didn't get to change," he says. "Do you want to take off your blazer?"
I think about his question for a moment. I tend to feel safer with more layers on, like I'm wearing some kind of armor to protect myself from danger. Although, I don't want to risk wearing my blazer to the party and getting it dirty somehow. And maybe it's just because I'm so nervous, but it does seem to be getting hot in here despite how much cooler it typically is above ground.
"Where should I put it?" I ask, removing my blazer and letting my arms breathe through my white button down shirt.
"May I see?" Derrick asks, approaching the table and placing his hand in front of me.
I reluctantly lay my blazer atop my deskmate's fingertips, and he pinches it between his thumb and index finger before lifting it high up to his eyes.
"Wow," he whispers.
My entire body is immediately overcome by a hot flash of some kind, and I begin to tremble where I stand beneath my looming deskmate.
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that!" He stammers as his face reddens. "It's just that it... and you... I mean, it's just really tiny. Not that you're... that. I mean, I would never—"
"I-it's okay," I interrupt. "I know I'm... short."
Derrick seems to relax a little at my words. He sighs. "Anyway, there's a place for this right over here," he says, carrying my blazer to a coat rack beside the front door. He hangs it on a smaller arm that seems to be designed for human items. "There."
They have a spot for human items on their coat rack? I thought for sure nothing in this house would be fit for a human!
"You look confused," my deskmate states.
I straighten my head and unfurrow my brow. "I-it's just... I didn't think you'd have something like that here."
Derrick looks back to the coat rack. "You mean a coat rack? Doesn't everyone have one of these?"
"No, I mean that," I say, pointing to the smaller arms. "Why do you have a spot for human items on your coat rack?"
"For human guests! Why else would we have it?" Derrick asks.
My mouth hangs agape at my deskmate's words. I thought items like this were something I'd only ever see in the movies! I didn't think pertheans would actually include items in their homes for human guests! Come to think of it, I didn't think pertheans would entertain human guests often— yet here I am.
"You think this is special?" Derrick laughs as he approaches the kitchen table and pulls out a chair to sit down. "Wait until you see what else we have!"
My mind swells with wonder and curiosity at the idea of there being other human-friendly items in this house.
"Derrick, honey," Mrs. Drake says, pulling me from my thoughts. "What would you like for dinner tonight?"
My heart skips a beat at her words. How could I forget about dinner?! My body trembles at the thought of sharing dinner with— who knows how many people? No, how many pertheans?
"D-dinner?" My deskmate stutters, his eyes widening with surprise.
"Yes, dinner! You said this morning you'd have to think about what you wanted and that it depended on whether or not one of your friends was coming."
Derrick turns to look down at me, his face a bit pale. "Oh yeah, um... one girl has a few allergies, but... she isn't able to make it."
"So what did you decide on, then?" His mom asks.
"Um..." Derrick starts, his brows upturned and his eyes focused on my quaking frame. Suddenly, a smile appears on his face as he turns back to his mom. "You know, actually, we won't be hungry for dinner. We all had big lunches at school."
Mrs. Drake folds her arms, tilting her head to the side as she narrows her eyes at her son. "Do you really expect me to believe that? You know, the last time something like this happened—"
Derrick abruptly pushes his chair away from the table and stands from his seat. "Mom, can I speak with you for a moment?"
Mrs. Drake nods, letting out a sigh and following my deskmate down the hall.
What's going on? Why is Derrick trying to avoid having dinner so badly? Could this be about me? What does his mom mean by 'the last time something like this happened?' Is Derrick going to tell her about my fear?
Although I know it's rude to eavesdrop, I can't help but try to listen in on the two pertheans' conversation. All I'm able to make out is some harsh whispering, interrupted by the occasional 'why.' At one point I hear Derrick whisper, 'just give me some time!'
As the duo emerges from the hallway, I try my best to look like I wasn't just poking my nose where it didn't belong. I try to ease my tremors by rubbing my arms, but it doesn't help much as Derrick and his mom resume their previous positions in the kitchen. Derrick's mom flashes a polite smile at me, only to immediately turn away and resume drying and putting away dishes. What the heck happened back there?
Bing-bong!
"Oh!" Derrick says, standing up again and heading for the door. "That must be our other guests!"
I gulp and wipe my shaking, clammy hands on my skirt. The party's about to get started, and there's no turning back now.
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smaller-comfort · 5 months ago
Note
WIP game, on Retail Hell?
Ding! You found some of the original stuff!
This was kind of a Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Scooby-Doo/X Men thing spawned by my unending distress over my own shitty retail job at the time. The premise: a bunch of queer misfit teenagers with psychic powers all hang out at a haunted music store, where most of them have part time jobs. They solve crime! Or, really, just the one crime, which is the murder of the girl who haunts the store.
It's very funny to look back at my old original work and see the character templates I'm still using. There's a scene where the main character and his love interest finally get together that hilariously looks like I cribbed it from gotta start somewhere. Gay idiots, man. An eternal weakness of mine, apparently.
Here's a fragment that doesn't involve those two particular goofballs together, but does involve some of the Retail part of the Hell.
"Oh my god, Rose, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"Shh, shh, it's okay." Rose patted Derrick awkwardly on the shoulder. She almost had to stand on her toes to do it. "Of course you didn’t mean it. Insurance’ll take care of it, I’ll just need your help cleaning up. You need a few minutes to freak out?"
Derrick’s face was wan and ashen, and he nodded jerkily, locs swinging violently.
Rose gave him a gentle push in the direction of the back door. “Go on, have a sit down and a bit of fresh air. Ian will mind the till for you.”
He nearly tripped over the smoking ruin of the vending machine in his haste to get outside. Rose shook her head and balanced the fire extinguisher on one hip. “Ian, love, do you need a few minutes to freak out? Because you’ll have to wait 'til Derrick’s back before you can take your fifteen. It’s not good to leave Michelle alone up front for too long.”
“Michelle?” There was something hysterical and sharp clawing its way out of his chest, and he didn’t know if it was a scream or a laugh or a toothy fucking alien, but at this point anything was possible. “You let Michelle watch the store?”
“She can mind the front door in a pinch, but it’s not like she’s any good on register.”
“Right." Ian covered his face with both hands and took a deep breath. "Right, of course, Michelle can't cover the register. She’s dead. Of course I can't take my break now. I have to cover for Michelle, who is dead, and for Derrick, who just set the vending machine on fire with his brain.”
Rose gave him a deeply unimpressed look. “No need to be rude about it.” She shoved the fire extinguisher into his arms. “You stay here and point this at anything burning, then. I’ll see if Robin wants to pick up any extra hours on short notice.”
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macaroni-and-antifreeze · 3 months ago
Text
sorry gang i'm on a writing roll so here is
Ash's Thoughts About Every Winner + A Bonus
Wife, this is your warning. Do not look under the cut. You will be spoiled for literally the entire series.
Also I do briefly mention self-harm towards the end so if that is a trigger for you, I would recommend either scrolling or not reading the massive paragraph at the end.
Dr. Will (BB2) - There's a reason he's an iconic winner. He's a bit of an asshole but he's a lovable asshole, much like my dad.
Lisa (BB3) - Now, do I think a bitter jury contributed to this win? Yes. Is this win still deserved? Yes. She was a strong player in her own right and I'm still happy she won.
Jun (BB4) - One of my favorite winners. Basically invented the floater strategy that other houseguests try and fail to replicate to this day.
Drew (BB5) - Honestly, I have not dived very far into this mid-stage of the old seasons but I guess he's okay.
Maggie (BB6) - Not a big fan of her, tbh.
Mike Boogie (BB7) - There's a lot of shit that happened outside of the game that sours my opinion of him.
Evil Dick (BB8) - Ok, listen. He's a character I can say that much. But, there was a lot of production protection around his win. I don't think he would've gotten as far without America's Player.
Adam (BB9) - I haven't watched BB9, and I probably won't.
Dan (BB10) - What can I say about Dan that hasn't already been said? He is a BB legend and probably the best winner.
Jordan (BB11) - Yeahhhh, no.
Hayden (BB12) - I have conflicting thoughts about Hayden. Is he kinda responsible for Derrick? Yes. Is he entertaining to watch? Yes.
Rachel (BB13) - Ok I gotta admit, I'm not the biggest fan of her in 13, love her in 12 though.
Ian (BB14) - Ian is my favorite, if you have anything negative to say about him fuckin leave.
Andy (BB15) - I refuse to watch BB15.
Derrick (BB16) - See my future "Derrick Levasseur Ruined Big Brother & I Don't Respect Him As A Person" longpost.
Steve (BB17) - I am extremely biased towards Steve. BB17 was the first season I watched and the first to make me fall in love with Big Brother. If you asked my dad, he would say Vanessa was robbed. And I kind of agree, but also don't. We didn't have good enough internet for the feeds at the time so there's a lot of shit we missed.
Nicole (BB18) - I hate Nicole Franzel. I am tired of seeing and hearing her and I do not care if she lives or dies.
Josh (BB19) - 19 was a garbage dump as a season which makes it only fair to get a garbage dump of a winner. Only Kevin winning would satisfy me because he was the only bright spot in this hellhole of a season.
Kaycee (BB20) - Honestly, I don't give a rat's ass about this season. I was on Discord most of the summer so I didn't get to connect with a lot of the players.
Jackson (BB21) - Why do we award racists? I only watched the first half of the season because I was so angry.
Cody (BB22) - The only good thing he did was evict Nicole. This season made me stop watching until midway through BB24 because all of the Pre-Derrick players were evicted for trying to, yknow, play the fucking game how it was meant to be played. So tired of white boys.
Xander (BB23) - I have not gone back & watched BB23 in its entirety due to certain events in my life happening at that time because I fear it may trigger me and ruin my excitement for Big Brother.
Taylor (BB24) - It's what she deserves. She is 2 in my top 3 favorite winners, those being Ian, Taylor, and Lisa.
Jag (BB25) - I don't think you should win if you were evicted, but that's my opinion.
And finally, our bonus player:
Paul (BB18 & 19) - I have incredibly mixed feelings on Paul. When they played in 18, I thought they were the greatest person on Earth. They were cool and funny and had awesome style. And to an autistic middle schooler who couldn't keep up with the changing tides of the social hierarchy, they meant a lot to me because we were already very similar. So I mirrored them. I mirrored them HARD. They were everything I wanted to be as a person. Instead of being the kid who got bullied all the time, I could be cool. To this day, Paul is a really special houseguest to me because they provided an escape from the newly developing self-hatred and urge to harm myself. I'm older and healthier now, so I don't value my worth against people but they were a bright spot in a dark time in my life.
Then BB19 came along. And I felt betrayed.
Why was the person I looked up to suddenly acting like the very thing I was escaping from? It genuinely hurt a lot. And because of those feelings that still linger today, I still feel like that 12 year old "girl" who didn't know what was wrong with them whenever I see clips of Paul on BB19.
Thank you for your time. See yall on Thursday.
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