#he is also the buffest

[deva-arts]

Have a sketchy Amon with dreads because I'm. love him

[woosh-floosh]

(read left to right) I had to make a comic version of this moment form the fanbook because it's such a funny image

Fantranslation is by @wireddd1 on twitter!

[jiangwanyeehaw]

i hate starember because they turned xie lian into a stick figure smh

pls read my post again very slowly

[iesuroo]

This is Hobs and he is my new favorite character I've ever made! Hes a doctor and is a big teddy bear. This is my first time drawing this type of hair so I hope I did it justice and if theres any tips on how to draw it better let me know. Also this is the first draft of his design so his outfit might change later.

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining having a normal, regular boyfriend that you love very much, and yet the 141 looks for any excuse to get you to leave him.

And eventually...you do.

Like, your boyfriend might not be the tallest or the buffest of anything like that, but he's sweet. He's a computer nerd just like you and he takes extra special care of your feelings. He's not super macho, but that's okay. You feel safe and loved in his presence.

But of course the 141 can't see that. They only see what your boyfriend lacks. He's scrawny, can't protect you, he's probably sleeping with a bunch of people while you're on deployment. How could he love you when he's a civilian who has no idea what you're going through?

At first their sly comments piss you off. How dare they talk about your bf like that? But as time goes on you just roll your eyes and shrug. They just don't get it.

It isn't until one day Price decides to have a sit down meeting with you. He pulls out pictures of your boyfriend spending time with a mutual friend of yours. You don't think much of it until the photos start getting more domestic. The last photo is of them cuddling on a couch at a house party. You refuse to believe what you're seeing but...you have to face the facts.

It hurts, but you trust Price's judgement.

They boys take care of everything for you. They pack up your stuff from your shared apartment and move you into a new one close to the base. They can tell you're torn up about it, so they spend more one on one time with you. They take you to the bookstore and the movies, and fill whatever time you would've spent with your boyfriend.

It isn't until months later, when you've forgotten your now ex's name, do you think that maybe everything had gone a little too smoothly.

But it's also hard to think about any of it when your "new boyfriend" might as well be the entire 141.

[sttm99]

TW...? Mentions of alcohol, implications of sex.

Part 2

"Come on, just go." Kaminari hisses under his breath, impatience and anxiety curling around in his stomach as he stands just outside the convenience store.

It's late at night, phones showing a bright 9:37 on the screen, as Bakugo, Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari stand outside the store. It's the last day of school before the summer and they're all finally of the legal drinking age.

So what better way to celebrate the end of school than with alcohol?

"Why do I have to go in first?" Sero's frowning, harshly slapping at Kaminari's hand as he tries to push him forward.

"You're the tallest?"

"Kirishima's the buffest-"

"Shut the fuck up, idiots." Bakugo growls out, pushing past them and barging into the store. His aggressiveness has the door squeaking loudly before slamming back down into frame.

You look up from where you're seated at the register, a lazy glare on your face. "You're responsible for anything you break. Even doors," you drawl out with a frown as you take in the sulking teenager.

He glares at you, "Where's the drinks?"

"Rude." You scoff, dropping the magazine you were looking at and pointing to the far right. "Sodas and juices are over there." You murmur.

But that only seems to anger him further, "Not sodas. Drinks. Alcohol?"

The door opens again, and three more boys walk in. These ones are more shy and nowhere near as rude as the ash-blonde.

You sit up and raise a brow at them. "We don't sell alcohol to minors."

"Minors?" Sero scoffs indignantly.

"Hey- you look younger than us!" Kaminari pouts.

You roll your eyes. "I'm 18, okay? Now, if you guys want some drinks, I'm gonna need some ID." You say with a smirk, eyes focused on the brooding blonde that had barged in first.

He glares at you angrily as he stalks forward, slamming his student ID card down on the counter. You look down at it, showing little interest at first, until you catch sight of the letters on the top right of it.

"No way," you pick up the card, "You guys go to UA?" You ask, looking up at them. "Hero Course too?"

The shock and admiration in your gaze has their chests swelling with pride, with Bakugo leaning his elbows on the counter and smirking down at you. "Isn't it obvious?"

You raise a brow up at him and grin, dipping your hand into your back pocket to bring out your phone. "Oh yeah. You're the one they chained up some years ago, right?"

He scowls. "You mean the one who won."

You scoff, hopping off the stool and rounding the counter. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Come on, I'll show you the drinks."

They grin, quickly following after you.

"This is your first time buying alcohol, right?" Ypu say as you stride into an aisle, dark bottles and cans lining the shelves.

"Is it obvious?" Kirishima asks shyly.

You shrug as you begin looking over bottle labels. "Yep. I'm sure you also don't know much alcohol, right? What drinks you want?"

Bakugo glares. "We're not fucking idiots."

"I didn't say you were," you roll your eyes at him. "But anyways. What's your budget, hm? Do you want something strong or something that tastes good?"

The boys crowd in on you, looking around the aisle as well. "Um...." Sero huns as he looks around. "Somethung that's strong. The strongest you got."

You look back at him. "You ever heard of overdosing? Kidney failure? Alcohol poisoni-"

"Where are you going with this?" Bakugo snaps at you.

"I'm starting to see why you were muzzled." You murmur as you pull out a bottle of Smirnoff from one of the shelves and hand it over to Sero. "This is a good option. It's strong and doesn't taste that bad compared to some others." You shrug.

"We'll take it!" Sero exclaims as he grabs hold of the bottle.

"Cool," you hum and look at him. "How many? Just the one?"

"Three." Kaminari says.

You turn to grab two more bottles from the shelves. "You know you shouldn't consume the three in one night," you say. "It's strong, and you guys haven't built any tolerance to alcohol so..." You hand the two bottles of Smirnoff to Kaminari and Kirishima, purposefully avoiding Bakugo, "Just be careful, is what I'm saying."

They hum, not very convincingly, but you can't force them to take your advice.

"Your total is 11,350 yen," you hum as you sit behind the cash register the last item they'd picked. You'd managed to convince them to get some sodas to chase the alcohol, and then they'd wanted to pick up a few snacks as well.

The boys were talkative, and the store was empty. They'd talked about how they were having a small end-of-school party in their dorm, and you smiled and laughed along with them, all while getting them to increase the number of items in their cart.

After all... your dad owned the convenience store, and you were looking at some new bikinis you wanted to get for the summer.

A little persuasion wouldn't hurt anyone.

They pooled together cash to pay and excitedly picked up the bags of what they'd just bought.

"It was nice meeting you, YN." Kirishima says as he grabs the last bag, flashing you a wide smile.

Kaminari joins in, "Yeah. We should hang out sometime." He offers.

You shrug with a small smile, "No problem. I'm mostly here... I'll be here a lot during the summer, so you can always drop by."

They begin leaving, and once the door closes, you lean on the register, picking up the magazine again.

You almost groan at the squeak of the door, already too tired to deal with another customer. You turn to glance at who it is, shocked to see Bakugo again.

"What are you doing back here?" You roll your eyes at his permanent scowl.

He grunts at you, continuing to walk to the counter wordlessly, hands stuffed in his pocket.

"Oi," you raise a brow, annoyed at how he was ignoring you. "You really need to work on manners."

He huffs as he stands right before you, opposite the register. He's quiet for a second before he glances to your left momentarily... then again, and a third time.

"What is it, mute?" You huff, arms folded as you follow his vision. "Oh-"

You chuckle, amused. "Big night ahead?"

"Just- shut up and pass the shit." He grunts in annoyance and embarrassment.

You laugh, "Calm down, okay? It's just some condoms." You roll your eyes and grab a few different ones, laying them out to him. "First time buying?" You raise a brow.

That's not entirely what you mean, though. And he picks up on it.

'Virgin?'

He sighs, "Obvious?"

You shrug a bit. "Kind of, yeah." You look down at the selection. "You know your size?" You ask, and he while pointing to the one on the left.

You hum, and scan it. He keeps looking at you as you bring a disposable bag to pack it in.

He struggles to muster up the courage, "Um..."

You look up at him as he stutters, and it has him struggling even harder. It's weird, and it pisses him off, how you're looking up at him when he's buying condoms.

"Any tips?" He mumbles softly, already mortified and wishing he could take it back. You're a stranger, and you've already shown how much you enjoyed making fun of him- why would he think to ask you such?

But you just shrug, "Do what feels right. Don't overthink." You say and hand him the bag. "The aim is for you both to feel good."

He hums and nods. "Thanks..."

There's silence for a few moments as he pays and takes the bag, and just as he's turning to leave, he stops again. Bakugo pulls out his phone swiftly and throws it onto the counter even quicker.

"Can I..." he trails off.

You stare at the phone for a while, then back at him. You smirk cheekily. "Sure." You chuckle as you put your number in his phone.

He takes it, looks at it for a second, before stuffing it back in his pocket. "You're here for the summer?" He asks.

You said so already..., and he knows.

"Yeah," you reply, leaning on your elbows. "Drop by anytime."

He hums and looks at you before turning and walking out of the store.

[wardenparker]

American as Apple Pie

Jack Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 12k Warnings: Cursing, food/alcohol, meddlesome friends, mention of shooting/guns but the context is carnival games, cheesy flirting, Jack being Jack. Fingering, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex. Summary: Going to a Fourth of July party with your girlfriends turns out to be an unexpected whirlwind. Notes: It wouldn't be a holiday without a little fic to celebrate. Independence Day seemed best acknowledged with a heavy dose of Jack's good natured charm. 🎆🎇💗🤍💙

The Statesman Fourth of July celebration in Louisville, Kentucky is one of the biggest and loudest in the area. It was an excuse to drape everything in red, white and blue, perfect your Uncle Sam costume, and play Lee Greenwood’s ‘Proud to be an American’ on repeat. There is a special whiskey barrel that is opened every year since its founding in 1919. Huge grills are rolled out to cook hamburger and hotdogs by the thousands as it’s an open party for everyone. Ending in a spectacular fireworks show that lights up the sky.

Some friends wanted to go. Girls from the office who were looking for a more festive holiday celebration than watching their siblings' kids play in the pool and playing cornhole while their aunts bitched about grocery prices. Not having anything better to do, you had thrown on the only red, white, and blue clothes you had in your closet and punctuated the look with red lipstick just for fun. Maybe you'll have one too many and flirt with a cowboy. That wouldn't be too bad.

The bolero he normally wears around his neck with the button down and sports coat had been traded for an open collared shirt, a print of U.S flags on them. His normally painted on jeans exchanged for white shorts and cowboy boots changed out with boat shoes. Still, the black Stetson is firmly on his head, although the mustache was still impeccably groomed and no one would mistake him for anything but a cowboy as he drinks from a long neck bottle to beat the mid afternoon heat.

The music filtering through speakers all over the Statesman Distillery property is obviously country, but the actual number of Stetsons in the sea of guests is staggering even to a Louisville resident. It's that time of the year, you suppose, making your way toward one of the many drink carts with your friends as you scope out the crowd.

“Weeeeeellllll, holy shit.” Tequila whistles, twisting his neck as he looks over at the margarita cart, smirking at the choice of drink. “Get a good look at the shorts on those legs.” He nods, making Jack follow his gaze to the group of women who obviously just arrived.

"God bless the USA." Rum pronounces solemnly, only lifting his Stetson from his head to place it over his heart in salute to the group of four ladies in the tiniest shorts he's ever seen that are now getting their drinks.

“Goddamn I love the summer.” Jack whistles, winking at the one in the red top when she looks over at them. “Happy fourth ladies!” He calls out, lifting his beer towards them.

"Happy Fourth!" You call back, raising the frozen margarita you've just been served in their direction as you friends giggle mercilessly around you. The three men who are not bothering to censor their ogling are dressed in some of the worst outfits here. Tiny white booty shorts on one, a stars and stripes Kiss the Cook apron on the tallest, and the third wearing neon red shorts and a muscle tank depicting a bald eagle wearing sunglasses that says You Free Tonight? underneath.

"Rocks Paper Scissors for the tall one?" You friend Madi proposes to the group, eyeing the youngest and buffest of the men like he's the snack she didn't know she was craving.

“No, you can have him.” Tina snorts. “I’ve got my eye on the one with the eagle on his shirt.” She admits, drooling herself at the virile display of man, who can also enjoy themselves.

“Have fun,” you snort, shaking your head and focusing on your drink. “I came here to drink and to line dance very poorly, not to get picked up.”

“Why can’t we have it all?” Madi asks, giggling when the one in the apron motions the group over when no one has looked away.

“I’m not sure white shorts is the guy to break my dry spell,” you mumble to them with an amused grin as the four of you strut over to the men who were watching you. “And you two already called dibs on the others.”

“If you don’t want him, I’ll ride his mustache.” Sandra snorts, smirking slightly at the group of men. “I’m sure my fiancé wouldn’t mind.”

“Sure.” Tina giggles. “We’ll just call Brad up and let him know you’ll be late for dinner because you found a cowboy at a party.”

“He’ll understand.” All of you laugh, knowing that he definitely would not understand. He loved her completely and was lucky enough that she was just as crazy about him. Their wedding is only three months away.

“Ladies.” Kiss the Cook tips his hat gallantly and lets his eyes sweep over every single one of you. “A very happy Independence Day to you beauties.”

All three men clock the ring on the statuesque brunette’s hand and immediately understands that she is off limits. The other two tip their hats as well and Jack grins. “Can we offer you something to eat?”

There is a split second before you look over to fully take in the third man of the group that you’re apparently now hanging out with, and instantly regret the snap judgement made from yards away just a minute or two before. He’s only smaller by comparison, broad shoulders and a strikingly cut jaw accented by the aviator sunglasses he’s wearing and leading down to biceps as thick as his neck and hands that — fuck, if you’d seen his hands beforehand you wouldn’t have said a damn thing, he makes that beer bottle look like a doll accessory. “Ah—We—um, sure,” you manage to blurt out, nodding self-consciously and absolutely aware that your friends are never going to let you live down getting flustered in front of the cowboy.

Madi grins at the way you are suddenly tripping over yourself to accept the offer of a burger. “If we’re gonna eat, maybe we can know who is offering us a plate?” She asks, smiling flirtatiously at the taller man holding the spatula. The three men chuckle. “We go by our work nicknames.” Jack offers, pointing at Rum to start. “Ryan, also known as Rum. Because he can get any party started.” He introduces him with a grin. “Next, we have our ‘kiss the cook’, Luke, who we call Tequila. He thinks he can make clothes come off.” Tequila rolls his eyes and shoves Jack slightly as the older man tips his hat towards you girls. “And I’m Jack, otherwise known as Whiskey.” Tina grins. “Why do they call you that?” She asks, making Jack chuckle. “Because I go down as smooth as the finest whiskey.” He boasts, tipping his aviators down so his eyes find you again and he shoots you a confident wink.

“So you work here then, I assume?” Guys who work for a distillery having boozy nicknames it’s so far off base, but Jack’s declaration that he ‘goes down like the finest whiskey’ has you thinking mustache ride thoughts all over again and if you could do it you might just slap yourself for something so obvious. On the other hand? No man should be able to make a wink look as smooth as he just did.

“Only if you want us to.” Rum smirks at Tina and tips his hat back slightly. “Otherwise we can be whatever you want. Spies, cowboys, hell, maybe all three.” Tequila huffs a cough and slaps Rum on the back. “Are you ladies burger or hot dog kind of women?” He asks, changing the subject.

“I think there’s a rule that you have to have a hot dog on the Fourth of July, isn’t there?” Tina replies, batting her eyelashes pointedly.

“Absolutely.” Tequila agrees. “Now the question is-“ he points the tongs at all of you seriously. “Are you a chili cheese dog person or a peppers and onions person?”

The question sparks a full culinary debate, as Tina insists only mustard is necessary, Sandra and Madi are fans of peppers and onions any way they can get them, and you just shrug over it all because there's no point in trying to be dainty with a hot dog. A chili cheese dog is the only way to go.

Jack chuckles as the girls are chattering, except the one in the red. “You are awful quiet, sugar.” He comments. “Not choosy?”

"Very choosy," you tell him, laughing a little about how involved your friends are getting in this debate with the other two guys. "Chili cheese dog every time. But my friends like to pretend that it's possible to be dainty while eating a hot dog. I'd rather enjoy something delicious."

Jack grins at your answer and points a finger up to tip his hat back on his head. “No, you just gotta jump in and devour it.” He hums, his smirk slightly dirty.

"Whoever put you three in one place today is a menace," you inform him with a deeper, rounder laugh. "But I totally agree. The only way is to jump in."

Jack chuckles, leaning in a little closer to you. “Not true.” He coos. “We were brought together for a good time.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his beer.

It can be both," you concede, getting a whiff of an expensive, musky cologne under the grill and sunscreen smell that hangs all around this booth.

“Well then.” Jack snorts, tapping his bottle against your margarita glass. “To being a menace.” He offers with a smirk.

"Here." A long sip of your drink hides a flustered grin, but you don't mind having run into someone this charming and handsome right off the bat. You and your friends will wander away in due time, and they'll become a fun anecdote for the office, and probably material for the spank bank of each and every member of your group as well.

“So what made you decide to join our little celebration?” Jack asks without any sense of irony despite the bash being massive. There are bounce houses and carnival style game booths set up. Along with all kinds of food and drink.

"Girls' day out." Ordinarily you might feel bad for Sandra, being slightly singled out while the other three of you are being shamelessly flirted with, but she's chatting with Kiss the Cook as well and having a grand time. "When your day is office, home, and back again, sometimes a party is just what you need."

“Oh I understand.” He promises, even if his work is not as traditionally boring all the time, there are plenty of days that the paperwork tedium gets to him.

"Your days are probably a lot more fun than ours." Without knowing that you're reading his thoughts, you just decide to make conversation and enjoy whatever comes from it.

“Some days. Others it’s slower than molasses dripping off a spoon.” He likes the fact that you aren’t just flirting, there’s interesting conversation blooming. “Although I’m enjoying right now.”

"This must be one of the more fun workdays each year." Why wouldn't it be? There are half-dressed women all over the places, and whatever the orientation of these three might be, they're all definitely interested in women. You sip your drink again and find that your head tilts slightly in his direction instinctively. "We're not going to get you in trouble, are we?"

“Nah.” Jack waves away your concern, secretly touched that you would be worried about that. “Well just call this….public relations.” He teases, winking at you again. “How does that sound, sugar?”

"Like you should be a politician," you snort, but honestly you don't mind. It's been a while since you just flirted for the hell of it and it's fun.

Jack wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Sugar, you are breaking my heart.” He groans. “I would never want to be lumped in with those lyin’, thievin’ scumbags.” He shakes his head and puts his beer down to lay his hand over his heart. “I’m a patriot.”

Somehow that only makes you laugh more, and when you meet his eyes again it's with warm cheeks and a bright smile. "My apologies," you hum, tipping your margarita in his direction again like a salute. "We'll stick to drinking and flirting. No filibusters today."

“Now hold on….” Jack leans closer and chuckles. “Depends on what kind of filibuster we are talkin’ about.” He drawls. “Some of them can be a good time.” His eyes slide up and down your body suggestively.

Raising one eyebrow at him, sip your sour-sweet vacations through the bright pink straw and smirk. “You want to have a prolonged speech that stalls all activity about my body? Seems counterintuitive, cowboy.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “I don’t think you understand darlin’.” He leans in even closer. “We ain’t talkin’ during my filibuster, we’re just prolonging the main event.” He explains.

One second your head is tiled and the next second you're clamping your mouth shut on a bitten lip. He's just gone from casually flirting to casually painting a mental image that will last you weeks. "You're pretty sure of yourself, cowboy," you hum when you remember how to speak again.

“Have to be.” He admits, truth more than cockiness in his words. “You don’t have to accept, but….” He smirks. “You could always consider it your patriotic booty.” His pun is horrible and he knows it, but he uses it proudly. With the same confidence he wears his Fourth of July outfit.

You snort before you can stop yourself, shaking your head at him as you wave off the laugh as good natured. "That's awful." The play on 'patriotic duty' is absurd, but somehow he manages to make it circle back to charming in a way that is fairly impressive. From most guys it would just sound cheesy or plain bad.

“It is, isn’t it?” He agrees with a grin. “Really awful.” He reaches for his beer again and finishes it in one long swallow.

"Worst line I've heard in a very long time." Even though you're agreeing, you chuckle and shake your head. Why the hell not? When was the last time you just cut loose and had some fun? Can you even remember? "It's...not a no, though."

“Hmmmm.” He lifts a brow and smirks at you again as he reaches into the cooler next to him for another beer. “Well then, I better make sure that you are fed, sugar.” He tells you. “‘Cause you might be in for a hell of a night.”

"You promise a girl a hell of a lot." But for some reason you don't think he's lying, or even exaggerating that much. Maybe it's wishful thinking, you can't tell, but Jack fixes up your hot dog with flare and hands it over just as you finish your margarita.

He takes your empty glass and chuckles. “Would you like another frosty margarita? Or perhaps the blackberry old fashions that are being made?” He asks, pointing to another stand just a few feet away, featuring the ‘87 single barrel that Jack loves.

"I think I have to have whiskey this time, don't I?" Given his nickname, it would almost seem rude not to. Especially when you've decided to encourage him. At least you've been polite enough not to let your eyes wander down and inspect those tiny little shorts he has on.

“Right away.” Jack gives you a two fingered salute before he spins on his heel and hurries towards the booth to collect you the best blackberry old fashion you’ve ever had.

Sandra scrambles over during the momentary pause, searching your face for anything besides the focused attention you're paying to the cowboy's ass as he walks away. "Are we rescuing or retreating?" She murmurs, hot dog in hand but ready to bounce in a heartbeat if you need it. "Actually?" Glancing up at her, you offer a sideways grin of defeat. "I think I'm gonna hang out a while. Hot-but-cheesy cowboy kinda got to me. I wanna see how this plays out."

“Really?” Her brow shoots up and she grins at you. “Takin’ that mustache for a ride?” She teases. “I’m jealous. He’s got a fantastic one.”

"I'll tell Brad to grow one before the wedding," you tease, barely managing not to snort again with laughter as Jack heads back your way.

“Ladies.” Jack smiles with a charming aplomb as he hands you the old fashion he had made for you, and offers Sandra the one he had gotten for himself.

"Oh, I'm alright." Sandra insists, smiling her thanks but not taking the drinks. "Designated driver. I had my one and now I'm set for the day." That smile flashes over at you, and she squeezes your hip gently but encouragingly. "I think we're going to wander. You want to come?"

It's a clear chance to break away if you have suddenly changed your mind and you want to, but you shake your head and lean over to kiss your friend's cheek. "I'll catch up with you guys later," you tell her, though at present you aren't actually sure if you will or not.

“I’ll keep her entertained.” Jack promises when your friend’s eyes turn towards him and he can read a slight warning in them. “And return her to you when she’s bored with me.” He adds.

“You have our numbers,” Sandra reminds you. “One text and we come running.” She blows you a kiss before stepping away, satisfied that Jack will at least be respectful as well as pretty, and that’s worth its weight in gold.

“You don’t have to stay.” Jack hums. “But I’ll make sure you don’t regret it if you do.”

"Promises, promises," you sing song, but rather than letting the moment get heavy you take a first bite of your hot dog and groan happily.

He chuckles and lets you enjoy the hotdog, admiring the way you save a dollop of mustard before it escapes and takes a sip of his drink. “After you eat, are you wanting to dance or maybe play a few games?”

"Either." Pleased with the idea that he might put a little more work into this than just fucking you and having a nap after, you end up smirking a little before the last bite of your food. "Both?"

“Done.” He agrees easily, holding out a napkin for you like a gentlemen. Other agents have taken over the grills because Tequila and Rum have magically disappeared with your friends. “Games first, let your hotdog settle.”

Gone in mere minutes, you make sure you haven't smeared your mouth with mustard or chili before picking up the drink he brought you and motioning ahead of you toward the rest of the fair. "Lead the way, cowboy."

The first booth is one that all the agents have been warned to throw. It’s the shooting gallery. He grins as he cocks his head to the side. “Whatcha think?”

"I can't say I'm much with a gun. Besides maybe a Super Soaker." The big plushies and toys behind the counter look just as inviting as they're supposed to, though, and you shrug. "But what the hell. Think you can give me a few pointers?"

“Let’s see how you do and maybe I’ll help you win a prize?” Despite the warning, Champ won’t be too mad if he shows off just a little. Especially since all the prizes have been paid for by Statesman already, leaving the game free to play.

"I have a feeling I'm about to embarrass myself for your amusement." Despite that, you laugh and take your place at the booth. The moving targets are fairly standard — bright yellow duck-like figures that do not resemble the actual animals but look more like rubber duckies that will fall over on the track when shot. "Here goes nothing," you decide, figuring that if you get even two you'll be extremely proud of yourself.

Jack uses this to his advantage and presses close behind you, holding your elbow up. “Steady.” He murmurs in your ear.

"Hell of a thing to say to a girl when you're that close," you mumble, but the smirk in your voice is obvious.

“I can always say more.” He teases playfully, nudging your arm up slightly. “Be a good girl and take a deep breath.”

It's almost frustrating how well that works on you, making you inhale sharply and shallowly at the words and completely giving yourself away before you can follow the direction and inhale slowly like he's told you to.

You miss, but it was actually closer than Jack had figured the first shot would be. “Good job!” He praises, reaching for your hips and shifting your core slightly, brining you back against him more. “Try again, sugar.”

Whatever the cologne is he's wearing, it reminds you of a campfire in the middle of a forest and that might be fogging your mind more than helping you concentrate. Again, you inhale deeply and squeeze the triggering, putting far more work into this silly shooting game than you need to but finding that you actually clip one of the targets this time and manage to almost knock it over.

“Almost got it.” Jack hums in approval. “Let’s see you knock that same one down.”

Utter concentration isn't possible with him pressed up against you, but you breathe again and call yourself to order, managing to breathe and aim and drop your elbow and all of those other things in just the right harmony to actually knock over one of the targets on the next try. It's not enough to get you a prize, but it's enough to have you doing a little wiggled dance of celebration that all the effort paid off.

Jack chuckles, happy with your achievement. “Good job, sugar.” He praises. “You did a good job.”

"Not bad for an accountant," you joke, turning a little to beam at him.

“Not too bad at all.” He winks, nodding to the game handler as they set the target back up. “Now I want you to pick out which prize you want.” He tells you, taking the gun from your hand.

"Cocky." You smirk at him but glance back at the booth and consider the options hanging from the top of the booth. Right in front, there is a white teddy bear with blue and red stars wearing a Statesman t-shirt. "How about that one right there?"

Jack hums in approval and looks towards the attendant. “Ten shots in a row.” The kid, who can’t be more than seventeen explains. “Knock all ten down and you win the prize.”

There's no way he'll do it, but you step far enough away to give him room and wave one hand toward the little metal duckies. "Show off for me, cowboy."

Jack settles his hat more firmly on his head and since it’s ten shots, he picks up another gun to have one in each hand. “Oh I will.” He promises as he sends both weapons twirling around his trigger fingers in a smooth gun trick.

Despite literally asking him to show off, your eyes still widen with the trick and you're left half-giggling and half-staring as he knocks down every single target with grace and seemingly no effort at all.

The targets are easy and Jack might have been showing off just a tad by alternating shots with both hands, making sure that you know he’s just as accurate with both hands. The targets are down and he turns towards you with a grin. “Your prize, sugar.” He bows as the stuffed bear is handed to you.

More than a little surprised by the display that was just put on for your benefit, you choke out a laugh, thank the kid running the booth, and positively curtsy to Jack in exchange for the bow. “Alright, I admit it,” you laugh in utter surprise, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek like a fairy tale princess bestowing a token. “I’m very impressed.”

“Good.” Jack smirks slightly and looks at the bear. “I think it’s always important to impress a lady.”

“Consider us deeply impressed indeed,” you joke, holding up the bear beside you like it might have had an opinion in the matter all its own.

Jack smirks slightly. “Do you want to play some more games or dance?”

“I don’t see how we could do any better at the games.” ‘We’ here meaning him — your own performance was dismal but that hardly matters. He’s smiling at you like he wants to make you scream in the best way possible and you want to see if he moves as well on the dance floor if he claims to in bed. “Let’s go dance.”

“Yes ma’am.” Jack takes the hand that is holding your drink and carries it for you. Looping his arm through yours so you can still hold your bear. “We’ll let him watch and learn.” He jokes, motioning to where other stuffed animals are resting while couples cut up the large dance floor.

“For when all the other bears decide to have a hoedown of their own?” That’s about the cutest thing you can think of — aside from him — and you grin at the idea. “I like that. Teddy Bear Hoedown is like a sequel to the Teddy Bear Picnic.”

He chuckles and you go over to the large table, setting down your bear in a particular spot. “He will be safe.” Jack promises you.

“So full of promises today.” The little coo in your voice is teasing, but maybe that’s just how he is? Reassuring and protective is not a bad combination in a man. Not at all.

“My momma always said never make promises you can’t keep.” Even with your drink in your hand after he presses it to you, Jack sweeps you up in his arms to take you out to the dance floor.

“And you always do what your momma tells you to, like a good southern gentleman.” It’s just a guess, but as he twirls you around to settle against him, cradling you in his arms so you can drink and dance while you away with the slower tempo song that’s playing, you just have to grin. “Very smooth,” you admit without a hint of begrudging in the compliment.

“Sugar, all my moves are smooth.” Jack boast, smirking as he gently glides around the floor with you, taking special care not to jostle your drink. The next song will be faster, but right now, the breathless couples are resting slightly with the bluesy sounds of Patsy Cline crooning to them.

“I’m starting to get that.” Not that you mind. Coming to this whole big carnival for the holiday was just for fun after all. But you glance over at Jack after taking the last sip of your drink and find your smile going a little lopsided. It isn’t the booze. He is that handsome.

He hums, his voice a little rusty as he starts to quietly sing along with the song. Only slightly off key as he serenades you with a grin on his face. One that tells you he’s well aware that he’s not the best singer, but he enjoys being a little silly.

Maybe it’s silly. Or maybe it’s human. Maybe it’s because it’s both, you start singing along with him, quietly and just a tad off key. Two silly, awkward, imperfect little people out there on the dance floor swaying in each other’s arms and singing ‘Walkin’ After Midnight’ to each other like a chest moment from a 90s romantic comedy. It’s impossible not to look at his lips at least a few times, both of you grinning when one of you flubs a lyric. And at the end of the song when he twirls you around again to land tight against his chest? The only possible place you can look are his eyes or those lips again, like a magnet pulling you in.

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes drop to his lips, basically asking for him to kiss you. He leans in slightly right before the song changes and is incredibly peppy. A song to line dance to. “Oops.” Jack smirks.

One another day or with another man it might have annoyed or frustrated you to be more or less cockblocked by a deejay. Today? With Jack? Your answer to it all is just to snort in amusement at how pleased with himself he looks and let yourself get all swept up in the dance. It was barely an hour ago that you met him. It does no one any harm to spend a little more time together before things get frisky.

The beat is easy to dance to and despite the fact that you might not know all the steps, Jack does. “Just follow me, sugar.”

The trouble with line dancing is that if you don't know every move you end up looking like an idiot, but you nod and decide to put a little bit more trust in him for the time being. If you were about to kiss the guy, you should at least be able to do that, right? "I'm with you," you promise him, knowing you can keep up.

Jack files into the natural line that forms, partners slightly in front of their men and everyone starts to move together. ‘Heel, toe, dosey doe, come on baby. Let’s boot-scoot.”

Able to pick it up step by step, you follow Jack's lead for movement and watch the couple in front of you the once or twice you get confused, until you're very smoothly and easily moving through the dance with glee. It's such a simple thing but so welcome, and utterly fun to boot.

You are laughing and that is all that matters as Jack grabs your waist to pick you up and spin you around before setting you back down in time with the other couples on the floor. “Having fun?”

“Every second I possibly can,” you answer with a light, bubbling giggle. He’s a strong lead — which is wonderful in a dance partner but gives you ideas about what he could be like in bed. Not to mention how strong he is…

“Good.” Jack is almost ninety-nine percent certain that he is taking you home tonight, but he wants you to enjoy yourself.

"And I hope you are, too?" Glancing back at him as he turns you, you raise one eyebrow at him in question.

“No doubt, sugar.” Jack is a shameless flirt, but oftentimes it’s not leading to more than that. Unless it’s his mission to seduce a target. This- this is just for him and he likes that you are having fun with his corny nature. “Best damn party I’ve been to in forever.” He promises. “Company makes it good.”

“Company is what matters.” And maybe it’s the silliness of it all again, but you throw him a wink before the dance has you turning again. He seems to like a like cheese with his flirting, and frankly that just makes it more fun for you.

The song finishes up and Jack decides that he will twirl you around once more and dip you down low, just to make you giggle. People clap and he grins at you over his aviators. “Another dance, or another drink, sugar?”

“One more dance?” He’s far too much fun like this, with moves even you have to admit he can be proud of, and you’ll be damned if you’re going to give that fun up just yet. Besides which…it might be a bit embarrassing for the guy whose nickname is Whiskey to find out you’re a bit of a lightweight.

He waggles his brows when the song turns to another slow one, meant to press bodies together. “Never turn down a chance to hold a beautiful woman close.” He promises as he tugs you in.

“I don’t believe you do.” It may be a small moment of teasing but the fact that he doesn’t take himself too seriously speaks volumes to you. Relaxed and confident are too things that don’t always compliment each other well — it can come off as pure arrogance whereas he’s cocky in a way that is a bit cheeky and fun. Everything about the man is over the top. “But then,” you hum, winking for good measure. “Neither do I.”

“Really?” Jack’s grin blows into a fully devilish smile and he looks around speculatively. “And which beautiful woman would you choose?” He asks with a chuckle.

For his amusement, you make a show of surveying the room even while you’re pressed tight up against him, and nudge him slightly when you spot a cute girl in the corner being talked at by some other guests she doesn’t seem to be too interested in. “Do you see the cute little redhead over there?” Your own nose points the way to him when you nod. “In the corner? She’s at a table with a blonde, but these two guys keep trying to flirt with her. I think she’s talk rather be flirting with her blonde friend.”

“Good call.” Jack snorts. “That’s Grenadine.” He explains. “She works at Statesman too.” It’s interesting that you seem to have an eye for agents.

“Does everybody get a booze related nickname?” You ask, amused at the idea of it. If you all got accounting nicknames, things would start sounding weird very fast at the office.

“Mixers count.” Jack chuckles. “It makes it easy when there’s twelve John’s working around the place.” He reasons.

"Fair enough, I guess." That does, logistically, make a bit of sense. And frames Statesman as a fairly whimsical place to work in the process. After twirling around the dance floor a little more, you hum softly to yourself and lift your head, raising one eyebrow in question. "Did you always want to work in the booze biz?" He seems silly enough to appreciate the phrasing, and you grin. "Or do you want to be something else when you grow up?"

“Just wanted to raise some hell.” Jack admits with a chuckle. “Was in the Navy for a little bit. Found out I like the freedom of the private world better.”

“Rules.” You huff dramatically, blowing a raspberry to make him laugh. “Who needs ‘em?”

Jack laughs, a full belly laugh of good humor. “Exactly.” He agrees. “Plus the pay is better.”

“There’s that too.” A nod of agreement comes on the end of your own laughter. “Distilleries pay well? I can’t say I’ve ever thought about it.”

“Good enough to buy corny outfits for the Fourth of July picnic.” He jokes, taking his aviators off and turning them around to perch on your nose.

“That’s what your shorts need!” You tease, cackling out loud and pushing his sunglasses a little further up your nose. “Ears of corn! The perfect symbol of Americana.”

Jack laughs again. “I’ll have to see if I can order some for next year.” He hums.

"Perfect." The grin you aim at him is almost blinding. "I guess I'll have to come back and see if you found any."

His smug smirk deepens and he waggles his brows. “Yeah?” He asks. “Maybe I’ll have to model them for you.” He suggests. “Make sure they are cheesy enough. Rum talked me out of my Daisy Dukes of Freedom.”

"Oh my god..." You barely manage not to snort with laughter over that image. "Do I want to know?"

“Silkies.” He explains. “Running shorts in the military are…brief.” He hums with a grin. “I had some American Flag ones but then Rum was complaining my upper thighs were too white to wear them.”

"Your friend's objection was your lack of tan?" That only makes you laugh harder, and by the end of the song you're practically clinging to each other as you share that laughter between you. "I dunno, Jack." With your lips pursed, you correct yourself. "Whiskey." He's sure as hell smooth, so why not just use the nickname? "I think you might have to do a little tanning so you can wear them again."

“Well I left my speedo in Italy.” He chuckles. “So how do you suggest I tan?”

That opens up a whole new line of questioning, but in this moment you just flash him an even bigger grin. "Nude, hopefully."

He pretends to be shocked, mouth opened and he reaches for his chest as if he is clutching pearls. “Why I declare!” He drawls. “That is such a scandalous suggestion.” His lips curl into a smirk. “I love scandal.”

"I had a feeling you might." The song is over, your revolving has stopped, and as the next — much more upbeat — song begins, you tilt your head slightly to the edge of the dance floor. "You wanna go be scandalous, Whiskey?"

“Is that an offer?” He asks, lifting a brow and giving you a chance to change your mind. He loves to flirt and have a good time, but he wants it to be enthusiastic.

Hadn't he caught you staring at his lips maybe fifteen minutes ago? Was it really only just a few dances since then? It seemed like days spent basking in his energy and charm. Ah well. Why the fuck not? The Founding Fathers were all freaks anyway, might as well celebrate their way. "Yes."

Well, sugar…” Jack sweeps his hat off his head and holds it over his heart. “You just made my damn year.” He promises with a wink. “And I guarantee I’ll make yours.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, cowboy.” Something tells you he’s bragging with plenty of proof to back him up, but you still give him a crooked smile as you dig your phone out of your pocket. “I’m going to tell my friends not to wait for me.”

“I’ll go collect Mr. Bear for you while you do that, sugar.” He nods and sets his hat back on his head and moves away so you can text your friends privately.

Sliding open your phone, the group chat you have with your friends is full of photos, videos, and excitement shared between them during the day. You’ve been apart from them longer than you expected but they seem to be having a ball — though Rum and Tequila don’t feature in any of the photos or videos so it seems like you’re the only one who stuck with an interested fella today.

Don’t wait up for me, ladies. You type out, and send along a selfie of you wearing Jack’s aviators with him picking up your prize bear off the table in the background. Gonna save a horse by riding that cowboy.

The answers that come back are swift and all congratulating you. Teasing you about your quick change of mind.

Yeah, yeah. I’ll give you all the gossip tomorrow. You write back, barely smothering a grin and you have to bite your lip to keep it at bay. I’ll send you guys a photo of his place and the address when we get there. If you never see me again, tell the cops it was the cheesy pickup lines that convinced me to go with him.

Jack watches you giggle as you put your phone away and walks back to your side with the bear. “See? Safe and sound.”

"Both of you." And something tight and gnarled in your heart seems to breathe more easily in a way you don't quite understand. It's an excitement you haven't felt in a very long time. "Lead the way," you say, accepting the bear happily when Jack deposits him in your arms.

“Did you ride with your friends, or do you want to follow me?” Jack’s Bronco is close to the party, having been here for hours bringing in coolers and helping to set up. He pauses by it and taps the side. “Give you a ride to your car if you want?”

“We all rode together, so I guess I have to beg a ride with you.” Saying it out loud makes it feel very real, but for some reason you’re not nervous. There is a tingle of anticipation and excitement but no worries.

Jack nods and opens the door to the passenger side for you. “Then let me give you the address of where we are going.”

“Thank you.” For both the door and for his understanding, you offer him a soft smile as you climb into the Bronco. So many men these days take the sensible precautions of women they’ve just met as an insult. It’s nice to not have to skirt the line and simply be upfront with him.

He smirks at you as he whips out his phone and opens it up to air drop you a location. “Nothing but details, sugar.”

“Which is the same thing the girls are gonna say to me tomorrow,” you tease, sitting back in the buttery soft seats as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“Then I better make sure you got nothin’ but good things to say.” Jack chuckles.

“I guess you’d better.” And you wink, even though the promise makes you squirm slightly in your seat.

“I don’t live too far.” Jack converses as he drives, wanting to you at ease. “That way I can be in the office easily in an emergency.”

“Like oh no, the whiskey isn’t old enough yet?” You ask, confused as to what kind of emergency a distillery could possibly have.

He chuckles. “Or the storage tanks collapsed and flooded the complex in raw, unbarreled whiskey.” He counters. “Thieves. Corporate spies.” He doesn’t get into the extra security Statesman has, that would be a little much for you to understand.

“Corporate spies. Thieves. You make it sound so…” Searching for the word, you notice he never even gets on a highway to get back to his place. He’s simply driving through a suburb as ramblingly as he pleases, and then turns down a long country road. “So very much like the beginning of a self-discovery novel, where the main character is just a lowly employee who finds out their job is really just a cover for something illegal or magical.” Grinning at him, you turn in the front seat and look at him instead of the drive. “Need an accountant? The place sounds fun.”

“Never know, maybe we could.” He chuckles, knowing he would enjoy seeing you around the office more. Might actually want to sit behind his desk more often if he could expect a view like you.

“Never know,” you agree, but your attention is quickly diverted by the little white-painted farmhouse with its picket fence and big shady trees outside that he pulls up beside. “It’s so cute!” You exclaim, having expected to see him living in something huge or deeply masculine. A house you’d see on Yellowstone or picture Clint Eastwood outside.

“Thanks.” He shoots the house a proud smirk. “My great-grandaddy built the place with his own two hands.”

“I love it even more now.” Madi would point out that you’re a sucker for a family story, and she would be right.

Jack is proud of the restoration and tasteful updates that have been done to the old place, an homage to the past. “Then you’ll love it when I tell you that they are buried up on that hill.” He chuckles, pointing to a little fenced off area around a large magnolia tree.

“Being a sentimental man runs in your family. I do like that.” When he pauses in sliding out of the Bronco to open your door and raises an eyebrow at you, you fluster. “Not that I assume you might be sentimental about me,” you clarify immediately. “Just that I appreciate a man who isn’t afraid to be passionate.”

“Sugar, that is something you’ll get to witness firsthand.” He promises as he climbs out and saunters around the front to help you out.

It’s a beautiful little place he’s got, and when he helps you out of the car you can see the wrap around porch does go all the way around, and that the house has been added on to in back. Maybe the second level was an add-on as well, you can’t quite tell. But it speaks to generations of love and stubbornness to stay here and add to this old place instead of moving or building new, and you like that. Loving and stubborn isn’t a bad combination by any means.

“Do you want a drink?” Jack offers. “Water, Coke?” He doesn’t just want to ply you with alcohol, so he offers other things, even though he is walking towards the bar cart in the corner.

“You can make two of whatever you’re drinking.” Whether that’s alcoholic or not, you have a feeling you’ll be putting your glass aside in favor of paying attention to other things soon enough.

“Hmmmm.” The countertop ice maker is put to use after you tell him this and Jack adds a little flair to his movements as combines orange vodka, pineapple juice and peach schnapps into a shaker and mixes it up before straining the cold alcoholic drink into two glasses and floats some blue raspberry vodka onto the top. “Here you go sugar.” He hands it to you with a wink.

“Do you have friends called Vodka and Schnapps, too?” It’s just a light tease, but he poured and mixed and assembled the drink so deliberately that you found yourself mesmerized by his movements. “Or one with the same name as whatever this drink is?”

“There are colleagues by those names.” He admits with a grin and takes a sip of his drink and groans in approval. “But this one was made just for you.” He hum. “I call this ‘Lick Her Right’.”

“Shit, Jack.” You end up smothering flustered giggles as you have your head at him and try a sip of the fruity sweet cocktail. It’s every bit as delicious as you expected and doesn’t taste a thing like alcohol — which probably means it’s the strongest drink you’ve had all day.

He chuckles at your cute little giggle. “Sweet with just a touch of twang,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you and leaning in to nuzzle his nose against your cheek next to your ear. “Just like the best pussy.” He murmurs in your ear. “Like I’m betting your pussy tastes.”

“Need you to do one thing for me before I let you find out,” you murmur, finding that just as you expected you’ve only had a few sips of the drink before something much more enticing has been presented to you.

“And what’s that, sugar?” Right now, he will offer you the moon. Give you whatever he needs to be able to strip off those tiny shorts of yours and drape your legs over his shoulders for a private Independence Day celebration.

“You’re gonna need to kiss me, cowboy.”

He laughs, tossing his head back and reaching up to take off his hat. “Much obliged to, sugar.” He promises before he swoops in for a kiss, his tongue still cold and fruity from the cocktail as he slides it into your mouth.

He’s playful and enthusiastic, two things you all but demand from a lover, and your arms slide around each other with greedy intensity as the rest of the room goes blank around you.

Jack’s drink is all but forgotten when he sets it on the table and pulls you closer, letting your body press against his as he plunders your mouth and groans in happiness that you accepted his invitation to come back to his place.

The half-wall behind you becomes the perfect thing to lean back against as Jack presses in, holding you as close as he is holding the last shred of decency you’ve got as you plunder each other’s mouths eagerly. You’re damn lucky your glasses didn’t get so thoroughly tossed aside that they fell over and stained his rug, but right now all you care about is chasing that sticky sweet taste from each other’s tongues.

His hands slide under your tiny little tank top, fingers pinching the back of your bra strap and unhooking it with one hand while the other slides under the cup to posses one breast. Keeping his tongue tangled with yours as he moans at the soft fullness of it, the hard nipple against his palm.

It's so smooth you might have barely noticed the movement at all, except his hands are hot and callused and the touch of them on your skin makes you moan into the messy kiss with enthusiasm. Nothing but the perfect heat and heaviness of him can penetrate your mind at this point — and that includes the heaviness growing hard in his own shorts as you both do your best to stay as pressed against the other's body as possible.

Jack presses his cock against your tiny shorts, grinding into you as he paws and plucks at your tit, pulling the most beautiful sounds from your throat as he slides his other hand to your neglected breast to give it the same treatment.

Pressed between Jack and the wall, your own hands wander freely. Mapping his body from broad shoulders down to slim waist, there is no hesitation there when you slide one hand into the back pocket of his shorts and pull him forward, inviting him to grind into you just as much as he likes as he swallows your moans.

There’s nothing wrong with a little over the clothing humping in Jack’s mind. Grinding against you and squeezing your tits as he kisses you is just the warm up for the night, although it feels pretty fucking good as you pull him closer.

The world has gone the most gorgeous shade of blank, narrowing down to just Jack, and when you finally can’t breathe in any more of him and have to break the kiss for air, the matching groans you let out are sweeter than any other sound.

You’re gorgeously giving and soft. Yielding to him. He reluctantly releases one breast and pulls back just a bare two inches to slide his hand between to you pop the button open on your shorts. His hand immediately sliding inside to delve into your panties.

“Fucking—” The rest of the curse, whatever it is, gets swallowed up by your moan as his thick fingers make quick work of finding your slick and swollen clit to draw circles around it that have you seeing double.

You’re wet and nothing is sexier to Jack than a wet pussy on an eager woman. He groans into your mouth. “Already so wet.” He rasps. “Want to see how much wetter you can get.”

“Before I dehydrate?” You huff, growling into a kiss with ferocity and angling your hips to try to get him to slide his fingers inside you. Not that it’s been very long at all since he first kissed you, but you’re on fire with wanting him and have been for hours. “Or before you finally fuck me?”

He chuckles into your mouth and bites at your lower lip. “Both?” He teases, rubbing your clit again before he finally gives you what you want and slowly sinks two fingers into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Shaking as he twists his wrist and presses the heel of his palm against your clit, you’re even more pinned against the wall behind you than you were a second ago. Far from finding it confining, your fingers dig into Jack’s broad shoulders with enthusiasm as you cling to him in that moment.

“That’s it.” He groans, feeling your walls pulse around his fingers and he hums in approval. “You’re little pussy likes my fingers.” He coos. “Why don’t you cum on them for me?”

If you could ever cum on command, it would probably be right now. It would be for the pair of thick fingers curled so perfectly inside your cunt every time he pumps them inside you that your vision whites out a little at the edges. It would be for the man who makes you simultaneously tense and limp with need. As it is, your toes are curling in your sneakers and you're about damn ready to flood his hand any second while the only sound you can make as an incoherent moan.

“Sugar, sugar, sugar.” He groans. “You’re so close.” He continues to finger you, loving how your eyes are rolling back. “Just let go and give it to me.” He begs. “I want to strip you down and eat your pussy, but I can’t until you cum for me.”

The absolute whimper of frustration on your lips and hearing what's coming next mighty really be what does it. What has you moaning his name into the warm evening air and holding onto him so tightly that your fingernails leave neat little half-moon shapes at the base of his skull. When you cum it's full force, with shaking legs and an arching back, and all you can think — when you eventually get your thoughts back after the fireworks subside in all your nerves — is how fucking glad you are that you took a chance on going home with this man.

Jack loves to see a woman cum. Always beautiful and you are no exception. The hollow of your throat is the perfect place to moan his praise, the white shorts he’s wearing becoming damp and showing it as he leaks pre-cum into the material. His fingers are soaked and making the most obscene sounds as he pumps them into your cunt until your entire body sags against the wall and is only held upright by his pinning you there. Then he slows his wrist and ease you to a stop as you pant his name. “Good girl.” Jack rasps against your throat. “Now I want to see what kind of mess your pussy made.”

“You’re gonna have to give me a second,” you huff, giggling under your own breath and a little dizzy. If he can do that with his hand, the rest of him is going to reduce you to a puddle. “Stripping is tricky when my legs are wobbly.”

He chuckles and pulls his hand out of your shorts to grab your thighs. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that.” He promises, pulling you up into his arms and guiding your legs around his waist as he pulls away from the wall to carry you through the house to his bedroom.

It only encourages you, which you’re sure was his intention, you steal kisses and swoon at this strength as you carries you down a hallway. By the time he turns into his room you’ve found the spot on the long column of his throat that makes him moan when you suck on it, and the bruise you’ve left there will be sure you remind of you every time he looks in a mirror for at least the next few days.

Jack’s bed is large, inviting and it’s not as heavily masculine as you might expect. The comforter is pillowy when he lays you down and smirks as he pulls back to look at you. “Now it’ll be easy to strip you down and not worry about those legs, except for how they look on my shoulders.” He boasts.

“I think I’m past the point in my dignity where I can dispute that,” you tease, wishing he hadn’t stood up fully because now he’s too far away for you to grab.

Jack unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off his shoulders. Revealing the shape of his hard cock pressing through the white shorts and he grins down at you. “We will just have to have an undignified time then.”

“Deeply undignified, I hope.” You agree, letting your eyes wander down the length of his body and darken all over again at the sight of what is waiting for you.

“Is there any other kind of sex?” Jack snorts, quickly unbuttoning and stripping down his shorts to groan in relief when his cock bounces free.

If you were going to debate with him, whatever argument you had gets lost on your tongue. He's a mouthwatering sight — veiny, cut, and curved just right so you know you're not only going to have him pulsing against your g-spot later but you're going to be cross-eyed and breathless while he's at it. "Fuck I hope not," you grin, licking your lips. "At least not tonight."

He smirks proudly and kneels on the bed, shuffling closer to reach for your shorts. He drags them over your hips along with your panties while you lift your hips so he can slide them down your legs and toss them on the floor. Eager to spread your thighs and get a good look at that slick pussy.

Sure it was only five minutes ago that your legs were shaking in his living room, but when he very surely moves your ankles to open your legs wide on top of his bed, your fingers drop between your spread legs without hesitation. His eyes on your pussy have you craving touch all over again.

There’s only your shirt left and Jack hates for the material to conceal your tits from his eyes, so he slides his hands up, grabbing the hem of it to pull over your head, unable to resist dipping his head down and lapping at a hard nipple.

It was barely a scrap of a shirt and this is so much better — tits free for his attention and back arching up to meet his mouth just as eagerly as he dips his head. The cool air in his room makes your already hard nipples peak even tighter, but all you can think about is the heat of his mouth and the heaviness against your thigh. Every inch of him feels incredible and he's not even inside you yet.

He lavished attention on one, then the other before he pulls away with a pop and a grin as he starts to slink back down your body. Intentions clear as he scrapes his teeth over the top of your mound and pulls your legs up onto his shoulders to cradle his head.

"Jack..." his name is a whine from your lips as he kisses the insides of his thighs, and one of your hands fists in his hair to tug encouragingly at the short strands.

He chuckles and blows a little air on your pussy to hear you whine again, your hips jerking up to try to meet his mouth. “Now, let’s get down to the business at hand.” He intones seriously. “You’ve got a pretty pussy that is begging to be eaten.” He looks up into your eyes and winks. “And I’m just the cowboy for the job.”

He dives in like a man starved, making you feel like every single woman whose pussy he tried to eat over the years must have denied him otherwise there wouldn't be any reason to be this voracious. That first lap at your slit has you gasping sharply, eyes rolling back in your head and tugging tighter on his hair in needy, silent gratitude. You'll be lucky if you can form any words beyond his name in all this. His name and endless repetitions of 'yes' or 'fuck'. But that's all you need.

Anything that Jack sets out to do, he does with vigor and eating your pussy is no different. His hands are wrapped around your thighs, pulling your hips up to his month as he devours you. Wanting to feel the sting of your hands pulling at his hair while his tongue carves a path through your folds.

He means to overwhelm your senses entirely and he's doing a damn good job, right down to how tightly he manages to hold you in place while he leaves no part of your soaking wet pussy untouched. Maybe at another time you might have fought of wrestled or taken some of the lead, but he's swept you away so entirely today that all of your usual sass is reduced to whimpers and moans under his attention. Probably because the attention of that long tongue of his is well worth submitting to.

He had been right, you do taste delicious. Making him even more ravenous as he explores what makes you whimper and whine his name as his tongue laps at your swollen clit.

Every time your hips twist or roll to beg for a specific kind of friction. he seems to be anticipating it. He reads the waves of your body like it's a second language, intuiting what you need and giving it to you with growls and groans of his own that vibrate through you and make you see wave after wave of stars.

His mustache is coated with your juices, his chin slick with them, and still he continues to devour you. Licking into you and pushing his tongue into your pussy like he is starved for you, his hooked nose pressed against your clit as he groans in pleasure.

It doesn’t matter how long you lay spread out like this. Or how long Jack spends devouring you like you’re his new favorite dessert. The walls could crumble down around you and you would still be begging for more.

Jack can feel your body start to tense, your thighs tightening around his head briefly and then relaxing only to do it again. He holds them loosely, wanting you to squeeze him and he rolls his tongue back up to your clit to lap at it.

The second time you cum for him isn't like being carried away on an ocean wave. Even the arch of your back is like being washed out to sea, and the roaring of your blood in your ears making you feel like you've just crashed on top of a wave in some dramatic engraving. It's like all of your senses are both being hugged tight and being blasted wide open and you're drowning in every sensation but your nerves are tingling with life as you float back down to earth in his bed.

Humming softly, the pads of his thumbs rub your inner thighs, soothing you as your breath starts to slow down. You had screamed loud enough to wake the dead. A feat that has Jack feeling mighty smug as he watches your closed eyes bounce around under your lids.

"Fucking hell," you manage, once you stop panting and have the presence of mind to push up on your elbows to be able to see him more fully.

Smirking up at you, he winks as he unfurls himself from between your thighs to rest on his knees. “How are we doing so far?” He asks, even though he knows the answer. “Feeling patriotic yet? Or should we really make you see fireworks?”

"I think we'd both be missing out if we gave up now." After all, you've barely done a thing for him. And if his cock feels half as good as it looks, you refuse to miss out on that.

“I have to admit, I’m dying to know what you feel like around my cock.” Jack confesses, his hand squeezing his cock and pumping it lightly.

"I think it's time for you to find out." There is a smirk curling in the corner of your mouth as you sit up, and with one hand beckon him closer. "Don't you?"

“Yes ma’am.” He hums. “Do you want to save or horse, or see if I can hold on for eight seconds?” His brow arches in question and he wonders what you will say.

“On your back, Jack.” You grin up at him, already shifting over to switch places. Even if this isn’t where you end up, you want to ride that handsome cowboy for at least a little while.

“Never say I don’t follow a lady’s orders.” Jack drawls as he lays down, tucking one hand behind his head and the other still pumping his cock languidly.

“Not if you know what’s good for you.” That smirk stays in place as you straddle his hips and lift yourself up, braced for your cunt to be so wet from his attention that he slides inside you right up to your throat.

Jack helps, holding his cock up for you line up. “Take your time, sugar.” He coos, watching you with a predatory gaze. “It takes time to make sure you are seated right.”

“Not too long.” A moan escapes your lips as you sink down, but you take him at a slow, steady pace. “I’ve been thinking about this all damn day.”

“And here I thought I couldn’t be the one to break your dry streak.” He teases, having read your lips from the margarita stand with the assistance of his glasses. He had turned off the special features before he put them on your nose earlier.

“Were you spyin’ on me earlier?” The best you can do with him halfway inside you is to raise one eyebrow as if you vaguely disapprove, but it doesn’t hold a single drop of water when you let out a shuddering little gasp and take more.

“I can read lips.” He admits with a grin. “Don’t worry, sugar, I didn’t hold it against you. Just made me want you more.”

"Now I feel like I ought to have made it harder for you," you purr, but the truth is that he'd had you from the first real smile. Not the smirks, not the intrigue of just being handsome in general. The first time Jack genuinely smiled at you, you had felt your heart beat a little faster. Now it's your pussy that's reacting to him, though, and you shift your weight to lean back and give him a long view of your whole body as you start to bounce on his cock. Whatever his reason for being interested in you, it is well worth it.

“Jesus Christ.” Jack hisses, sliding his hands up to your tits again. “You are such a pretty thing, so fucking beautiful.” He groans, admiring the view as you use him.

"View can't be as good as mine." Panting between each word is the only way to get them out, because your mind is so fuzzy all over again from how good he feels that all you can focus on is how well he fills you.

He would have to disagree, but you steal his ability to speak when you roll your hips and squeeze him tight. All he can do is groan and squeeze your tits harshly before sliding his hands down to your hips.

"Hold on, handsome." It doesn't take more than a few movements of your hips to establish a rhythm, and one that you're both thoroughly enjoying. With Jack's fingers curling insistently into your flesh, you pick up the pace and let your eyes slide shut in bliss.

Jack groans your name again and again when you fully seat him inside you. Giving you the encouragement and praise through the panted words.

It's a damn good thing that his bed isn't an antique like his house. Once you get going, with his encouragements and your own seemingly insatiable thirst for this man, it would be a damn shame to sacrifice an heirloom to your shared lust. The sheer power and force of your enthusiasm with his strength makes it feel like you're going to fuck each other into the stratosphere to begin with, there's no reason to lose furniture.

“That’s it, sugar.” Jack slaps your flank in encouragement and moans when you roll your hips down at little harder. “Fuck, you do know how to ride a man, don’t you?” He counts his lucky stars you wanted to come home with him. “Ride me hard.”

He might have been the one to make the joke about lasting the length of the ride, but you have no intention of getting bucked while you're on him. The prominent veins of his cock scrub your walls like they were made for you, bringing deeps moans and shuddering growls of his name from your lips with every bounce and rock of your body on his.

Bracing his feet on the bed, Jack tilts his hips up, changing the angle and he chokes out a sound of approval when you squeal in pleasure. “There it is.”

It's the exact angle you need to have the head of his cock battering against your g-spot with just the right amount of pressure, and right now you're prepared to swear that no one has ever managed to find the spot that perfectly before. Just like his fingers curling against it earlier, your vision whites out as your eyes slide shut again and you could swear this is what being on fire feels like as you cry his name out in that quiet little farmhouse.

When your pace stalls, Jack picks up the slack. Driving up into you while your walls convulse and you shake on top of him. Groaning out your name raspily as he works himself towards that same peak you are currently cresting.

It's so easy to fall forward, bracing yourself on his chest with both hands and letting him take over the pace. Your third orgasm ripples through you so sharply and definitively that you practically scream, but his arms are there to catch you and pin you to his chest while he races toward his own pleasure.

It only takes a few driving thrusts until his holding you tight, locking his arms around you and grinding up into you. Your name is moaned into his ear as he floods your fluttering pussy with his cum. “Fuck sugar.” He groans. “Little pussy is milking my cock like a dream.”

"I'm afraid..." You're both panting, and you rest your forehead on his rising chest for a beat and giggle to yourself. The flow of endorphins is making you feel so light you could fly. "I've been neglecting her. She was hungry."

“Pussy like that needs to be seen to frequently.” Jack chuckles breathlessly and strokes your back as the sweat clinging to your bodies starts to dry and cool. “I’ll be happy to make sure that happens.”

"Oh yeah?" In the bliss of the moment, when you pull back to look him in the eye, it's like you're seeing a completely different side of the needy and addictive man who was pushing you up against a wall a mere hour ago. This Jack is soft at the edges, boyish and gleeful, not to mention beautifully relaxed as he cradles your body against him. "Thinkin' about asking me out, cowboy?"

“Considering it.” He admits before that soft smile curves into more of a smirk. “I think it would be my patriotic booty to keep you satisfied.” It’s the repeat of the joke from earlier, but completely worth it because of how cheesy it is. “What do you say, sugar?” He asks. “Want to make everyday Independence Day?”

"I think it's only right." Stretching slightly, the tip of your nose nearly touches his and you dip your head barely lower to hover above his mouth. A single centimeter of movement and you would be kissing him. "It'd be a damn shame to never ride my new favorite steed again."

“Damn shame.” He agrees. Since you’ve been in his house, the sun has slipped below the horizon and he reaches up to cup your cheek just as the first muted boom of the fireworks from Statesman is heard. “Happy Fourth of July, sugar.” Jack murmurs before he crushes his lips to yours, happy that he had decided to go to the celebration rather than taking a mission. He had never had a better Fourth than this one.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

[marlequinncos]

This past weekend, I was showing my friend my Marko jacket and explaining the different components. I was wondering aloud why these specific tapestries were picked for it and she goes “what if each one represents one of the other members of the Lost Boys?” It got me thinking, and it turns out that theory actually works.

The jacket is made up of five tapestries: two are the pinups, and the other three are velvet rugs, all from the same Italian company. The three velvet ones depict a peacock, a matador and a bull, and a leopard. 

Paul - The Peacock: The most obvious of the three. Like a peacock, Paul is loud, showy, and in-your-face. He spends most of his screen time in the movie strutting around, “peacocking” for everyone watching.

Dwayne - The Leopard: Dwayne's outfit has several leopard motifs in it, from the one painted on his jacket to his earring and necklace made of animal teeth and claws. He’s also the most physically intimidating of the boys, being the tallest and buffest. 

David - The Matador:  Matadors rule the ring, controlling the crowd, their assistants, and the animal they’re fighting. They’re a ringleader, like David. The way David lures Michael in is both strategic and theatrical, like a matador waving the red flag to encourage the bull to follow and charge when he desires. And in the end, how does David die? Impaled on horns, having miscalculated and gotten too close to a raging bull (Michael in this metaphor). 

Is this a stretch? Maybe. But costumes are an excellent way to silently convey character and tell stories. I think this set of headcanons is a really fun train of thought, and would explain why Marko chose those specific tapestries for his jacket.

[ghostradiodylan]

[s k i l l ]

So, we talk a lot about Quarry headcanons and what could have been on the Brainrot Discord server that Kat made and one of the things I keep thinking about is how they gave (at least some of) the characters these sets of skills that never really impact gameplay, and I think it would be really cool if they did. Like, if there was more variety in who could be sent on which path. Switching Kaitlyn to the Hackett house path with Laura and Ryan to the scrapyard with Dylan being a popular one for fanfic, but also, idk, maybe Dylan won't let Ryan go without him so he ends up on the Hackett house path too? Maybe Abi steps up to go with Kaitlyn to the scrapyard and has to figure out the crane even though it's way out of her skillset, maybe Emma and Jacob can actually come back and link up with the rest of the gang instead of being stuck out in the woods for so long, stuff like that.

I'm just thinking about what their skills might be and how that might impact the game. Also keep in mind that if the character you most need for a task ends up up dead before that task comes along, it's going to be carnage for everyone else, which would up the replay value significantly IMO.

Kaitlyn: Shooting. She's a MUCH better shot than Ryan, if we can believe the Shooting Stars scoreboard (four of the actual children attending the camp score higher than him), but we never see that in the game? What if the aiming mechanism was actually different between different characters? What if there were shots you could make more easily as Kaitlyn, that were harder to pull off as Ryan?

Ryan: Agility. Guy does a lot of running and jumping, what if there were timed segments that were easier to complete as Ryan within the allotted time, or else something consequential happened? Good luck if you ended up plodding along with Jacob instead, now Abi and Nick are both mauled and turning, or something like that.

Dylan: Tech. Dylan's the physics nerd who slays at the crane game. What if you could bring him to the Hackett house and he could figure out the electric circuit puzzle in no time, but that meant someone else had to help Kaitlyn in the scrapyard? Maybe Ryan can still save Jacob without him but he takes too much time and the Hacketts catch you and pick off one of your party.

Jacob: Strength. Jakey's probably the buffest of the dudes, so maybe there are times you need a pair of strong arms or legs and Jacob's the only one who can come through. They also show us him picking locks but he never does that in an impactful situation, so maybe he'd have a lesser talent for that as well.

Abi: Stealth. Okay, so Abi runs and hides? Maybe she's awesome at hiding, then? Maybe she can get through parts of the game undiscovered by the werewolves that other characters can't. Maybe her being short AF means she can fit into hiding spots that you can't cram the leggy bois like Dylan and Nick into.

Emma: Observation. Emma's always watching and analyzing everyone's behavior and documenting things on her phone. Maybe she can find evidence or tarot cards others can't, or put pieces of the mystery together in ways no one else thinks of. Emma's a badass in the game, but it would be cool to see her 'documentarian' side come in handy prior to the credits rolling, too.

Nick: Climbing. I completely made this up because we don't get to see Nick do much besides try to pull his crush, suck face on a dare with Emma, and get mauled, but we do know he takes kids through the ropes course based on his dialogue with Abi, plus he's tall so he's got long arms and legs! Maybe he's the aerial expert. Maybe he can scale fences and get important items down from trees. Maybe he can climb up and free other characters who get stuck in those snare traps. (Obviously this assumes someone else can be the Designated Werewolf Victim, which I also think would improve the game.)

This also assumes Laura and Max keep their current roles, but I'd be up for that to be changeable too. It's not that I necessarily want a higher number of choices available, I just want the choices we can make to actually impact the gameplay and story arc more! Anyway, that's my Quarry ramble for the day (unless I come up with another one). Anyone else have thoughts?

[starrysharks]

ZENO STARRYSHARKS BIG FAQ. YAY

this is gonna go over all the questions people ask me about my art, OCs, etc etc ^^ starting with -

ART QUESTIONS:

Q: WHAT DO YOU USE TO DRAW?

A: ibispaint x on shitty samsung. no stylus just my fingers. very occasionally (and not in several months now) i will use MS paint with a wacom tablet and pen!

Q: WHAT BRUSHES DO YOU USE?

A: main lineart pens are love pen and dip pen (hard) on a 60-80% opacity. when i do my pencil style i use hard mapping pen (bleed).

Q: HOW DO YOU DO THAT SCREENTONE THING?

A: this PNG.

you're gonna place the png over where you want to add a halftone, and then lasso that area. then, click "invert selection area", and erase over the halftone layer. it should only be left on the area you wanted it to be on. you can change the color with alpha lock.

Q: HOW DO YOU COLOR SO WELL?

A:

Q: HOW DO YOU DRAW DIFFERENT BODY TYPES?

A: it's kinda complicated because i myself believe that i have poor body diversity when it comes to my original characters, but i'll try to explain myself. by a general rule, contrast is most important. top-heavy, bottom-heavy, larger lower limbs, smaller lower limbs, etc etc etc it's all in the contrast baybe. let's use nova (a skinny character), pins (a top-heavy character), and novocaine (a fat character) as examples. please ask me directly if you want any advice on other body types.

firstly, nova. she is very thin with a more scrawny build rather than athletic. to draw her, there are three parts (excluding arms) -

head, body and legs.

these are parts that almost every character has and the most important thing about them is their size. different characters will have different sized heads and bodies and legs as we'll see later, based on age, body type, etc... nova is only a teen, so she'll have a big head with big eyes to up the childish moe-factor of her design! other than that, she's pretty proportionate by anime standards with a regular sized body and long legs.

however for a character like pins a lot changes. pins is extremely top heavy, and larger than nova. he has a muscular build that's heavily unrealistic - while there's probably someone out there with a similar build to nova absolutely nobody can achieve the elusive pins build. because his body is so exaggerated, it must be the forefront, and he has small legs and a small head to compensate.

because i have few muscles in my oc roster, i tend to exaggerate the buffest characters. i would give another example but his existence is spoilers for the project he belongs to. ;;

when it comes to fat characters, i have little to say for dudes because i don't draw them often (sorry fat guy enthusiasts 💔). but novocaine is an example of how i go about drawing fat girls. namely it all comes back to contrast - rather than drawing her ankles and lower arms larger, i draw them smaller to emphasise the size of her thighs, hips and upper arms as when it comes to irl fat people, those parts are usually larger. i also added more examples from my dangan art.

Q: WHAT INSPIRES YOU?

otherwise the proportions are similar to the skinny teen model, just with shorter legs.

more on body types here:

A: western cartoons, like invader zim and mlaatr. 2000s moe anime like lucky star. my mutuals <3. robert valley. jamie hewlett. alex ahad. splatoon. stuff i find on pinterest. and you guys who say that my art inspires you!

OC QUESTIONS

Q: WHAT ARE YOUR OC PROJECTS? WHAT ARE THEY ABOUT?

A: as follows:

MAIN THREE:

(AKA these are the ones i'm dead-set on making, and will probably actually become fully realised one day.)

ULTIMATE X-CALIBUR - sci-fi adventure comic about a girl called nova who travels across the galaxy with her friends to find the shards of a broken star called the ultimate x-calibur. like one piece but with cute kemonomimis in space.

REASSASSINATION - horror comedy comic about a dead girl who loses her memories after being resurrected by a manic scientist. she becomes his personal assassin in order to get shots of medicine that will bring back her memories, and has to deal with school life and a mysterious group of catholics coming to kill her on top of that. it's currently being written and will come out eventually.

STARSAINTS CARNIVAL - psychorror (kinda) fantasy RPG game about a group of children who are transported to an wonderland-esque paracosm where they have to make their own wishes come true before their 13th birthdays with the help of ghosts named starsaints, or risk having their heads chopped off. it's one of my largest-scale pet projects so will probably take a while to wrangle.

LESSER/EARLY DEV PROJECTS:

(AKA the ones that are either too early in development to confirm anything, or will probably not be fully realised any time soon, but it's still fun to rotate the characters around in my mind.)

MAGICAL GIRL WARD - another psychorror magical girl comic about a group of girls who who plan a group suicide online, but are turned into magical girls on accident and have to fight "viruses" to help other girls. very messy in terms of development right now and will take a while.

METALLIC MIRACLE - sci-fi about a child solider cyborg who is sent back to earth after being in a deep sleep for some 50 years after a war she was forced to fight in. i actually really wanna do this one.

SINSTRING MANOR - survival horror RPG game about a doll who finds out she's a doll attempts to escape her family home and gain autonomy with the help of a fly and a servant boy.

PLANET☆PIGTAIL - magical girl comic about girls who channel magic through their pigtails to defeat evil monsters while dealing with middle school problems.

+ a billion more that i can't even remember lololol

Q: CAN WE ASK QUESTIONS ABOUT YOUR OCS + STORIES?

A: PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLE

Q: CAN WE DRAW YOUR OCS?

A: PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLE

OTHER QUESTIONS

Q: WHEN ARE YOU GONNA BE OFF HIATUS?

A: when my exams are over i'll start posting personal finished illustrations again. so, like, mid-june!

Q: HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN DRAWING FOR?

A: i came out of the womb with an anime girl drawing in my hand

Q: DO YOU TRACE?

A: nooooooooooooo

ok i'm tired please frequently ask me a question if you want me to answer it

[deuxcherise]

Collar Crimes: Red Letter

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, yandere OC, yandere male, Eris being Eris, gender neutral reader, reader has more personality in this one, comfort, fluff, angst (?), mentions violent action (such as plucking out eyes), flashback scene, may include annoying use of "my" a lot, includes a picture of a simple sponge cake (because why not? You'll see~) A/n: So I happened to come across those Chad skits from SNL (yeah, I know I'm late to the party) and I was also thinking of how Eris met the reader. So this is kind of a prequel to Weasel In, I guess? I highly suggest reading Part 1 before this, but do as you like. Enjoy~ Masterlist | Part 0 (you're here!), Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (1/2)

There were many times in your life when you had almost regretted taking on this 9-to-5 customer service job.

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?” 

Huh... Hah... Huh... Hah...

Accompanied by some strange heavy breathing, you hear a growling male voice say, “Are you home alone–”

You immediately hang up.

No, you definitely regret taking this job, but unfortunately it pays too well for you to just up and quit. As a result, it's been a good five years since you started, and you've gotten quite good at your job.

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today? Or is there something on your mind today that you'd like to share with me, my dear?” 

It has been a while since you've questioned your work name, but you have long since accepted it. Your company, Fruity Friends, was created by some closeted man (he has long since went public with his sexuality and is married to his highschool sweetheart. Good for him!)

He felt that people needed someone, a stranger, who they could talk to without the fear of being outed for anything. A noble endeavor, no doubt, but you believe he might've failed to account for the most… unscrupulous individuals who should be going into proper therapy instead of taking advantage of a nice-sounding voice.

Then again, being an anonymous voice on the other side of the line was far better than your last job, where you had to wait tables for the mafioso in a very, very scandalously short waitress outfit. You were quite popular because of your unintentional moe gap where you would say some of the cringiest lines in history in a cutesy voice while wearing the stiffest expression. You couldn't help how blank your face tends to be. 

You were glad that everyone else, including Remy, the most buffest chef you have ever met who worked there, were forced to share the same outfit, but you were sure that sooner or later you'd be kidnapped by one of those criminals if you continued to work there.

…..

Of course, it wasn't easy. This was the mafia after all. It could be debated whether or not you were a good person, but you had successfully manipulated one of those dogs into letting you leave scot-free. The particular tactic you used? Uh… yeah, that's another story.

“A-ah… um… h-hi there… I'm… Eris… um…”

Some of your clientele have been nervous wrecks, so you have quite a few scripted lines to choose from. This one chose the most basic package, but you always bring your best.

“Hello Eris~ What a lovely name. A pleasure to meet you! How are you?”

You hear him mumbling to himself on the line before he comes back. “Um… is this… really confidential?”

Ah… you hope this isn't one of those perverted bastards like the one earlier. This one sounds too cute, it would be such a shame…

“Why yes, of course, my dear Eris! Everything you say here is completely safe with me. And if you don't believe me, then believe in the contract that had brought us together. There is nothing you say that can be taken as evidence! Rest assured, you are safe here with me, here at Fruity Friends.”

You hear him gasp. “O-oh…okay… Um… I-I'm… your dear Eris?”

Aww, how cute! You hope this customer becomes one of your loyal clientele. Still keeping up your cutesy persona, you answer, “Why yes. And I am your Lychee~”

“O-oh… M'kay… my Lychee…”

From then on, Eris would call for you every single day for months, except for the weekends. Calls could only last about an hour, as per the package deal, since that was the company policy to accommodate multiple customers per day–unless they were willing to pay multiple times. 

On the following Mondays, he'd call in to check up on you and pout about how much he missed you and wished you could talk to you all day every day. And you, in your persona, would reply that you wished you could talk to him all day too. 

Lychee is a cute person, someone who likes to hang out with their friends, who likes to party all day and all night, who likes to share the most scandalous gossip from their supposed life. Lychee is someone who wants everyone to like them, always doing their best to fix their reputation should they ever mess up.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about all of that. Who has time to party and hang out with friends and share other people's business when you have no safety net to fall back on if you were ever to go jobless? Forget about reputation, you were already used to people making assumptions based on your appearance.

That being said, you quite enjoyed your conversations with Eris once he became more comfortable. Most of your topics ranged from philosophical takes such as:

“Which is better to eat first first? Steak or salad?”

“Depeeeends! I heard Americans usually eat salads before steaks and the French eat steak before salad. So it's up to you, really, ya know?”

“I see! … Hey, do you think graham crackers are cookies or crackers? I think they are crackers, but what does my Lychee think?”

To things that happened to him recently:

“LyCheeEeeEe!” he whines on the other side of the phone, voice clearly indicating he's been crying. “My LycheEee.”

You play along. “WhaAaaAt, my dear ErIsssSss?”

“T-there…” he sniffs. “There was-was this guy…”

“Awww, noo! What did this mean guy do, my dear Eris? Tell your Lychee.”

Once a week, Eris would encounter some mean dude who'd insult him and then he'd come to you for comfort. How he always ends up in such situations is beyond you.

And he's always… always does something about it a week later.

“My LycheEeeE.”

“YeeSsss, my dear Erisss?

“You know that one guy… you know the one I told you last week who I keep meeting in the subway, the one who kept saying I keep looking at him funny and keeps shoving me?”

“Yeaaaah?”

“I finally ripped his eyeballs out! So he can't tell who's looking at him wrong or right anymore! Isn't that great??”

Due to the confidentiality clause, unfortunately, whatever a customer says is not liable to use as evidence. Even if it means letting a serial killer loose.

“That's greeaaaat! You feel better now, don't you, my dear Eris?”

“I do, I do! Hehe~”

Such a troubling life… You'd never admit this to anyone but sometimes… listening to him makes you feel better about your uneventful life, only having to worry about keeping your job, keeping a roof over your head, and keeping your belly full.

Besides, what's there to worry about? Your identity is unknown and your persona is too friendly to get on anyone's nerve.

“LYchEeeeE! My LyCheeEee.”

“YeeEeesss, my dear Eris? What's wrong? Tell your Lychee.”

You listen to him bawl his eyes, cooing and offer your sympathies, like a mother to a child.

“M-my best friend… he said…  he said… 

Oh, his best friend. Eris has never revealed his friend's name, but based on the description he gives you, sometimes you wonder why someone sweet and innocent like Eris was friends with someone like that.

“Aww, no! Was he being a meanie again? What did he say?”

“He said… that I should get a life and stop talking to you.”

You feel your heart drop. “R-really? He said that?”

Ah… well. It isn't the first time a customer has left you, or rather left Lychee. Lychee’s job was to help people get through difficult times, but in the end, Lychee wasn't a real person. Lychee couldn't leave their job to hang out with friends. Lychee couldn't attend parties and weddings. Lychee couldn't fall in love. Lychee was just a faceless voice who only spoke once you paid the price, and even then only for an hour or two out of the entire day.

That being said, it wasn't like it didn't hurt when your customers got on with their lives. It was just… inevitable, and you had long since accepted that. Perhaps, this was a sign that it was time for Lychee's Eris to move on. He's spent over thousands of dollars just to speak to you over several hours per day over a span of four months already, single handedly paying your entire rent. As a fellow human who has to work their ass off in order to live, you can't bear to become the reason he goes broke.

“Yeah… but I don't want to! I love talking to you, my Lychee! And you love talking to me too, right? So I don't see why he’s telling me to have a life. I am living! Ugh, stupid…”

You mull over all kinds of lines but in the end, you whisper, “... Maybe, he's right.”

….. 

“What?”

“Listen, Eris-”

“Your Eris. I'm your dear Eris, my Lychee.”

His voice sounds sharp and metallic… you've ‘slipped’ up a few times, and he'd always softly correct you with his usual whiny voice. Not like this.

You cough, getting back into character. “Yesss, you’re absolutely right! My dear Eris. Sorry~ LiSteeEeen. As much as I love talking to you, I think that you're spending way too much money on me! I feel flattered and all, but you're going to go bankrupt at some point!”

Silence on the phone… until you hear him laugh loudly like you had just told him the funniest joke ever. Moments later you hear him again. “Aha… ah… Is that what you were worried about, my Lychee? Aww, you're the best~ That's why I… But don't worRrrRry~ As the eldest son in my family, I inherited everything after my parents died. Enough to last me years to the point I don’t even need to work. Money isn't an issue at all, my Lychee.”

You feel a sharp pang in your chest. “Bas-” You clear your throat, the curse word almost slipped from under your persona. “Bestieee, even if money isn't the issue, your mental health must be taking a toll. Besides your best friend and of course me, your Lychee, do you talk to anyone else?”

“... Why should I? I only need you, don't I? Also, I'm not your ‘bestieee’, I'm your Eris.”

“R-Right, my dear Eris~ I'm just saying. One day you'll want to… you know? Hug someone, hold hands, kiss, or even just… be next to someone. In person. We both know, I can’t do that for you. Don't you want a more… authentic relationship or friendship with someone? Besides your best friend. Besides me.”

A pause. “... Is this part of your character?”

You blink. “What do you mean, my dear Eris? What character?”

“... Huh… Come to think of it… I’ve never thought about it before, but is Lychee’s not your real name, right?”

“Ehhh? But it is! I wouldn't lie to you, my dear Eris.”

Another pause. “… This line is confidential, right?”

“Mmhm! Always have been!”

“Then what’s your real name?”

You pause, your eyebrows scrunched together as you hold the phone against your ear. “I… My dear Eris, I told you. It’s Lychee. Your Lychee!”

You hear him sigh, before he suddenly hangs up. You look at your phone, very confused and worried. He has never hung up on you before. Did he just… leave?

After several weeks, you figure he did just leave. Fortunately, there are always new callers on the line along with some really loyal customers who've been patiently waiting for you to pay them some attention. Still, it bothered you… but at the same time, it relieved you. He must be finally living his life now instead of spending it all on you.

It’s a shame though… He was such a charming fellow, so open with his emotions and sweet with his words. It just wasn’t the same with your other customers, which the number of clientele were going for some reason…

You finished your 9-5 job, dragged yourself out of the office to the bus stop, waited for the bus, got on the bus, waited until your stop, got off your stop, dragged yourself home, entered your home, locked your door, and collapsed on your couch, still in your work uniform. Same as usual. Why your company felt it was necessary to have a uniform when your job only requires your voice is beyond you.

You close your eyes and let yourself be whisked away to dreamland… 

…..

…..

…..

Shick shick shick shick!

You wake up at 3AM, according to a glance at your clock, to the odd sound of… whisking? You slowly sit up, get off the couch, walk to the source of the noise, and find a handsome man wearing your apron, standing in the kitchen and whisking away at some white fluff in a bowl.

You rub your eyes. What the heck are you looking at?

The man stops whisking open looking at you. He smiles bashfully. “My Lychee-”

WOW! Has it really happened? You’ve finally reached the point you’ve overworking your mind and body to exhaustion! And now you’re either hallucinating things at 3AM or you’re in the middle of a nightmare! There’s only one person in the world who calls you that and there is no way in hell Eris would be in your kitchen at 3AM, covered in flour, and smiling at you like this is all normal! WOW!

You slap your cheeks with both hands. Hard.

Eris gasps, dropping the bowl of whipped cream on the counter. He grabs onto your hands and inspects your face with a worried expression. “Lychee! Are you okay? Why did you slap yourself?”

His hands feel oddly very real and your cheeks oddly hurt really bad… but there's absolutely no way Eris is actually in your home, right? Why aren’t you waking up?

“Lych–No, I should say (Y/n), right? I would call you my (Y/n), but you're already mine, so–”

Oh heck no.

You take your hands back and head out of the kitchen, take out your phone from your pocket, and quickly tap on the screen.

Briiing. Briiing. Tch!

“Local Police Department, how may we–”

Your phone is suddenly snatched from your hand. Eris looks at the phone before he hangs it up and throws it out of reach. He moves so quickly you don't have time to react once he's wrapped you in his arms. He places his head on your shoulder, his lips tickling your neck. “(Y/n)... Don’t do that. I missed you… so much… ”

You could only stand there, hands awkwardly hanging there at your sides, trying to absorb the bizarreness of this situation. “W-why are you here? How’d you get in?”

“Never mind that, your dear Eris is here now.”

You take deep breaths. “Eris…”

“That's me~ I'm your Eris~”

“Right… Uh, could you… let me go?”

“I don’t wannaaaa.”

You clear your throat, collecting yourself. “Okay, fine. Listen. I think… I get why you’re here. It’s because you like Lychee, right? Well, sorry, but the bad news is I'm not anything like Lychee. Lychee is just a character.”

“I know.”

“Okay… so that means you don’t know me!”

“Okay.”

“Wha– What part of ‘you don’t know me’ don’t you understand? We’re strangers! You have no reason to be here.”

“Mm, sure.”

“What?” You give a heavy sigh.

“It’s not like you’re a complete stranger to me,” he starts off. “You're (Y/n). You like (favorite animal), (favorite fruit), (favorite TV show), (favorite dish), (favorite pos–)”

You begin to sweat as you listen to him list of all of your favorite items, before moving on places you’ve ordered food from, to private details, such as your age, your highschool, your address, your family home address, even your Social Security number–Who the heck is this man and how did he find these things out?

“–and that’s all I have so far. What do you think, (Y/n)?”

“Get. Out!”

“Nooooooooo!”

He squeezes you harder, to emphasize the point that he’s not going anymore. You try to twist and turn your way out, but you find his grasp to be extremely difficult to get out of, despite how gentle he’s being with you.

“(Y/n)... You know…” he mumbles, making you still. “For the last few days, I finally realized what you meant the last time we talked. It’s true. One day, I will want to be with someone. In person. Hold hands with them. Hug them. Kiss them…”

He leans into your ear and whispers. “But I have also realized that I would only want that… with you. Only you. I love you, (Y/n).”

…..

“I’m… sorry. I don’t…”

 “Oh, that’s okay!” He releases you and steps back, interlocking his fingers with yours instead. A blush appears across his cheeks as he bashfully looks at you with his head tilted down shyly. “We can start over. Today can be our Day 1?”

His fingers have incredible strength, you unable to escape their gentle grip. “What? Day 1 of what?”

“Oh? You don’t know?” he says, softly swinging your hands side to side. “Day 1. Dating.”

…..

“Who says we’re dating?” you screech, wanting so badly to rip your hands away from this deranged man.

“Eh?? What do you… Ohhh! I haven't asked you properly yet, huh? Sorry, love. Will you date me?”

“No, we've just met.”

“Oh.” You can see the cogs turning in his head, before he tilts his head and giggles. “But that’s exactly why we should date. People date to get to know each other more. Silly, (Y/n). But if you need further convincing: as you can see I’m handsome, and I have money! Lots of it! You’ll never have to work a day in your life. I’ll be the best boyfriend for you.”

Tempting as that sounds, the idea of placing your life into the hands of someone else just like that? Hah! No thanks. “No.”

The cogs are turning again before he reaches another answer in his head. “Ohhh, I get it! I'm so dumb! It took me so long to realize… You haven’t realized you love me too, right? That's okay. I can wait. Hehe~”

You stare at him incredulously, speechless. What the he-

Ding!

“Oh!” He drags you back into the kitchen before letting your hands go to don your oven mitts and take out a freshly baked cake to flip it over a rack. “Ta da~! Mmm, sorry. I was hoping to decorate it before you woke up but… well, who needs frosting anyway, right?”

“What… Why?”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Eh? Did you forget? Oh, love. It’s your birthday today. Happy birthday, (Y/n)!”

-----

“Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday, dear (Y/n)~ Happy birthday to you~ Now, make a wish!”

You closed your eyes, made your wish, and then blew all the candles out in one go, ensuring your wish would come true as it always does every year.

You received two presents to open. One from your Mom and one from your Dad. That’s how it always was on your birthday, or your Mom or Dad's birthdays. Just the three of you. No one else. Even now in your teens, your birthday party had only three members and that was all you wanted.

The day after your birthday, they went grocery shopping.

It was a normal day. They let you sleep in, since it was a Saturday.

You had woken up to heavy knocking on the door. The police? They came bearing heavy news.

There was a drunk driver on the road.

Your birthday was the last time you ever saw them.

Your wish didn't come true. It didn’t the year after that. And the year after that. And the year after that. It would never, ever come true ever again…

-----

“(Y-Y/n)? Do you not like it? I’m s-sorry…”

Your vision turns blurry as memories flood into your mind. Your eyes fill with hot tears to the point it flows down your cheeks. Your face twists in agony as you try to stop the dam from breaking in front of a stranger but your knees give out instead.

Eris catches you and you both slowly sink to the ground. He holds your head gently against his shoulder, letting you cry out years worth of contained sorrows and to your heart's content as he pats you on the head, cooing at you and offering you words of comfort. He doesn’t understand, but at least you aren’t pushing him away.

Once you've run out of tears to cry, you whisper with a broken voice, “Thank… you… for the cake.”

“Anytime, my love, anytime.”

“... I'm not your love.”

“Shh, shh… Take it easy… I'm here for you…”

“Idiot… Just leave me alone…”

“M’kay.”

…..

“I said leave me alone. Why are you still here?”

“Mm… because I don't think you want me to leave you alone right now.”

"I..." You sigh, giving up completely.

…..

Grumble...

“(Y/n), before I go, would you like to eat some cake?”

“... No thanks.”

“Oh… Okay. Well, I also got a present for you too.”

“Don't want it.”

“Can't return it, I'm afraid,” he sighs dramatically. “It costed so much too…”

“... Fine. I'll take your stupid gift and eat your stupid cake.”

“Yay~”

[fallloverfic]

Me: I read/watch Delicious in Dungeon for The Plot The Plot (spoilers for S01E13: Red Dragon III/Good Medicine, and CW: blood):

Thank you Trigger for adding this, this was not in the manga, blessings be upon you and your families. I did not know that last episode Chilchuck asking if they'd never escape the crotch would be prophetic alkdjalj

Listen, if I told you how many screencaps I took of Laios in his civvies/pajamas... well. He looks beautiful. 15/10 great job, Trigger, thank you.

I am also still soft for the siblings.

He is so worried about her.

Laios do have a lovely back, though.

Shoutout to Trigger for keeping all the times Senshi and the other characters faceplant in each other's crotches for this whole little arc lol I took so many screencaps of Laios though, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for them to animate this.

Unconscious luggage Laios is the best. Love how Senshi carries him (and that all three guys are standing behind Marcille, who is protecting them).

Just laser-focused for me.

And the party pile alkdjlaj I was waiting for this so much alkdjalj Poor unconscious Laios, with Senshi squishing his crotch. Poor Marcille, stuck beneath both their tank and their bulky damage dealer and their rogue, all after fighting an army of blood dragons and using ancient magic to revive someone. Life's never fair for the mage.

I always loved the way Chilchuck just lifts up Laios' leg alkdjlaj The tall-man is literally too tall for him aldkjalj

I have been specifically waiting for them to animate this for months lakjdlaj This whole sequence is one of my favorite parts of the manga and ahh they did such a good job!!!

They kept the chest push, just incredible. Bless.

I just love how Kui really explored how races of different sizes and heights interact with each other and how it changes different things. Laios is literally a tall-man and the tallest member of their party, and the buffest in a different way than Senshi is (Senshi is sturdier and generally far stronger, but Laios is their tank for a reason). And despite Senshi's strength, and Laios being badly injured, they still cannot fully compensate for the fact that Laios is still the biggest of them all.

Also they added this alkdjla And I love it so much alkdjaj In the manga, Laios has his left leg pulled back a bit to make room for Chilchuck (or maybe just because it's how he sits down after Senshi and Chilchuck finally push him over), but here he's literally between Laios' legs in part because Laios is just so tall and Chilchuck is just very small by comparison.

I just ahhhh Chilchuck trying to keep him seated just kills me...

Ahh these shots just end me. They all look so good and I love how they're arranged. I love how desperate Chilchuck is to appeal to him, because Chilchuck doesn't want him to die T-T He knows how much Laios is hurting over Falin, both mentally and physically (he is still recovering from when she hit him), but...

Overall this was a phenomenal episode, and it was adapted really well. I loved how the characters played off each other, the voice acting and music were wonderful, the animation was excellent, just... ahhhh

Other delicious Plot:

The Plot in Episode 3

The Plot in Episode 7

The Plot in Episode 9

The Plot in Episode 11

The Plot in Episode 13 (you are here)

The Plot in Episode 14

The Plot in Episode 15

The Plot in Episode 16

The Plot in Episode 17

The Plot in Episode 18

The Plot in Episode 20

The Plot in Episode 21

The Plot in Episode 24

[bokutosmochi]

"PLEASE PRETEND TO BE MY BOYFRIEND, SOMEONE'S FOLLOWING ME"

what's it? general

allergen warning/s? mentions of harassment/stalking,

sugar level? 0.9k

names for the order? gojo satoru, geto suguru, sukuna ryomen (kinda ooc), fushiguro toji, nanami kento

regulars? @hanayanetwork​, @tahonet​, @tokyometronetwork​

GOJO SATORU:

"please pretend to be my boyfriend, someone's following me."

throws an arm around you without missing a beat. his boyish smirk doesn't fade from his lips when you suddenly wrap your arms around him from behind and whisper those words into his ears. "darling, where've you been? don't tell me you're getting all shy on me, bunny." he peeks at the man who made you so uncomfortable and glares, making it known he was aware of his presence and isn't about to back down and let anything bad happen to you. lets you lead without making it too obvious in the instance you brought your car with you -- he'd want to escort you safely to the vehicle. then, in the instance you didn't bring your car with you, would stroll through town, you in his arms until the strange man was out of sight. he wouldn't stop talking to you the whole time, trying to cement the not-fact that you were together so he'd back off. it's only then when he knows you're safe that he drops the suave act and asks if you're okay. will stay with you while you call your friend or an uber.

GETO SUGURU:

"please pretend to be my boyfriend, someone's following me."

gets a little startled by your presence and narrows his eyes at you when he doesn't know the reasoning for you doing what you did. when he finds out why, that's when he throws an arm around your shoulders and start walking again. "been looking all over for you." takes little glances at the creep who was bothering you. it doesn't matter to him if the person knew he was on to him or not, either way it's still beneficial to the both of you -- he'd back off regardless if he was smart. while he might not be the buffest guy out there, he was definitely intimidating. would only ask you about where your whereabouts and more information about the man, whether you knew him or not, then the occasional small talk. he'd ask you if you brought your car with you, if you said yes, he'd let you lead the way. if you said no, he'd take you to a nearby convenience store and let you call whoever, a friend, an uber, what ever it is you preferred.

NANAMI KENTO:

"please pretend to be my boyfriend, someone's following me."

remains relaxed and composed when you approach him, but on the inside, he's very alarmed. "sweetheart, i've been looking all over for you!" he flashes you one of his rare smiles before engulfing your hand with his and walking side-by-side. would ask about how you're feeling and things about the man. if he learns you took your car with you, he'd let you take the lead, if not, he'd offer you a ride home or wherever it is you feel safest. obviously, would not be offended if you declined it. would stay with you while you called a friend or an uber. very discreetly takes glances at whoever this person it and takes mental notes of what he looks like, any unique markings like visible birthmarks, tattoos, piercings, and the such, hair color, height, build, ethnicity, eye color, if he can. will definitely be reporting this to the police when you part ways because he doesn't want this incident to happen again.

SUKUNA RYOMEN:

"please pretend to be my boyfriend, someone's following me."

tsks and pulls away from your touch at first when he doesn't register your words. the moment he does, puts an arm around your shoulder kind of grumpily like he doesn't want to do it. truthfully, he'd rather not, but he'd also rather you be safe so he's left with no choice. wouldn't really care about the man. he just wants you to be safe, nothing more, nothing less. wouldn't even talk to you except for his lackluster greeting of "there you are, sweetheart.", then him asking if you brought a car with you or not when you've steered clear of the guy. if you did, he'd walk you to where you parked the vehicle and bid you goodbye with an awkward "drive safe, alright?" and you didn't, he'd tell you to call a friend or an uber right then and there. the thought of just leaving you there did cross his mind, but he quickly brushed it off. isn't really fond of the whole thing, but he isn't going to let something bad happen to someone innocent either.

FUSHIGURO TOJI :

"please pretend to be my boyfriend, someone's following me."

glares menacingly at you when you first cling onto his arm, but once you explain the situation to him, he visibly relaxes and pulls you closer to him by your waist with a small murmur of "c'mere, sweetheart" he lightens his voice as to not make you more afraid than you already were. he looks behind you and does not hesitate to lock eyes with the creep. the scar on his lip quirks up as he smirks, "try something, i dare ya'". waits for a few seconds and when the man breaks eye contact and rapidly walks the opposite way, he ruffles up your hair and asks if you brought a car with you. if you did, he'd walk you to it, though he's not making any physical contact with you anymore. and if you didn't, he'd wait with you while you called an uber or one of your friends to come and pick you up. he does this all wordlessly as he doesn't quite know how to approach the situation.

i get: reblog

you get: pepper spray

[comicaurora]

Is Falst secretly the buffest member of the team? I always imagined him as kind of small and wiry, but the last two pages have kinda thrown me. He's got that Bruce Lee thing going on, where he looks like a kind of average dude until the shirt comes off and suddenly *BAM*, 0% body fat, 100% muscle.

He's basically modeled on a gymnast - short and incredibly dense. If you're too tall, the weight of your own muscles starts limiting how much the strength of those very muscles can lift and throw you around, which is why the top-performing gymnasts typically don't crack five feet. The two best gymnasts I ever met both didn't clear my chin but were incredibly buff.

Falst has the advantage of additional fantasy-beastman-strength, but that just means his normal abilities can let him fling himself much farther and more effortlessly than his build would allow.

Tess and Dainix are similar levels of muscley, but Dainix is much taller and has trained for a different, more rounded skillset (and has also eaten more regularly) and Tess is basically boxer-buff. So by the numbers, Falst might have the highest ratio of buff to mass!

And Kendal was literally sculpted by a god, so any muscle he's packing is fully cheating.

[hana-no-seiiki]

well now that your ocs have been brought to my attention I can’t stop thinking about them 😭 so that led me to think about if justin and reader were dating before, doesn’t that mean everyone was trying to kill him too?

I answered this thrice and every time it got deleted for absolutely no reason.

Tumblr. Why?

I’m not mad anymore just tired 😭 This happened to my Batfam x Deadpool reader + other drafts too wtf

Thank you for your curiosity over my babies though anon! It gave me the motivation to write this several times over lmfao

warnings: mentions of dick size, tons of justin (yandere ex & jock) slander, slander towards filipinos cause i hate my fellow countrymen sometimes, attempted murder, cheating (by reader)

[ previous ask for context ]

So, Justin is pretty smart. He knew what he was getting into from the beginning. He knew the risks. He knew that he’d potentially get killed.

His archetype is morseso based on the bad boy who’s smart rather than the usual jock. I’m thinking of making someone else the himbo or even making a bimbo/thembo but we’ll see.

So, despite his grades being rock bottom due to the Yan! Faculty, Yan! Student Council, and Yan! Rich Students teaming up to end his academic life, they can’t change his wrinkly brain.

Justin prepared every meal of his (male wife material fr fr) and shared them with you to squash any attempts at poisoning.

He got buff(er) and attended Aikido + Boxing lessons to help defend himself when he’s apart from you.

Did I mention he’s like, the tallest, buffest dude in school? (Which isn’t a huge achievement in a school set in my universe’s version of the Philippines.)

( Fun Fact: Midnight Darling is set just a little south east of The Guest is God )

Canonically speaking, my character design sketches of him is just the genderbent version of the mc. Albeit his fashion sense included less b l a c k and is leaning more to the basic sports for brains guy style. So he technically is on equal footing with you in everything if not excels more.

But he’s unfortunately late to the party.

And he gets slandered to hell and back every single day.

I mean, if they can’t kill him in the physical sense, might as well emotionally damage him til he breaks, right?

Your poor goons had to pull a lot of strings and delete so many goddamn posts about him. Many rumors and articles were about his appearance, his terrible grades and how he’s definitely not worthy of you. A lot of those posts shit on his dick size.

Your goons mostly did it for your approval, they couldn’t care less about him. They also made sure to destroy the social lives of those that questioned your decision to date him. Sure, they sooner want him dead and all, but arguing against the decision of your being was utterly disgraceful. Horrid to even think about doing.

In addition to all that, you had to publicly cheat on him just to lessen some of the blows. He has received so much footage of you being with someones else that people have begin to add that he likes getting cucked to all the rumors that has piled up.

And don’t get me wrong, most if not all your harem are down bad masochists, but it still hurts seeing you with someone else.

Yeah, Justin would have already lost his sanity with the shit he has to deal with everyday if he were anything close to normal.

[sunbabycentral]

I have a very certain look for each of the sunbabies in my fic so if anyone is curious and wants to know more, click in the read more for detailed descriptions and their ~approximate faceclaim~ (aka not age accurate, but how I imagine they'll look when they're older)

(Also this got long IM SORRY)

Will: shaggy curly blonde hair that gets more sun bleached in the summer months. A darker golden in the winter, but more angelic halo gold in the summer. Dark blue eyes with a golden heterochromatic center that looks like the sun's rays. A dimple in his right cheek. Once got an ear pierced by his older sister but never wears it. Relents and lets his younger sisters paint one (1) pinky nail gold. Tall and lanky, but stronger than he looks. Stylized sun tattoo in golden ink on his skin. Deeply tanned, but considerably paler in the winter. Long fingers perfect for ring wearing (he never does bc of the infirmary). Delicate looking features, but a boyish delicate. Clear laughter, thick southern accent, voice is slightly gravelly with a bit of vocal fry, but not too much.

Faceclaim I use for him in my head: Gavin Casalegno, specifically in "The Summer I Turned Pretty"

Kayla: ginger hair cut short into a mid length bob, homemade dyed green ends. Bright and clear blue eyes with a golden center like Will's (and all of the Apollo siblings) like the rays of the sun. Paler, but covered in tons of freckles. Muscular from archery training, could knock you out in one punch. User of claw clips to keep her hair out of her face in the infirmary. Doesn't really have an accent, but you can hear her Canadian accent slightly on certain words like "about". On the shorter side. Always has lots of bandages on her fingers from archery and cutting herself on her arrow fletchings.

Faceclaim I use for her: Sadie Sink

Austin: dark skin, warm brown eyes with the Apollo Kid Center. A higher thin voice, very New York accent. Lanky like Will, but won't be nearly as tall as him. Likes to wear gold rings on his fingers. Wears his hair in braids or locs most of the time, sometimes puts gold accessories in them. Still very childlike in his face since he's one of the youngest kids. The best posture in the cabin, can often be found with some musical instrument in hand.

Faceclaim I use for him: Caleb Mclaughlin

Now into the ~semi canon and OC kids~

Anteros: very lithe figure, almost delicate and breakable looking until he's yelling at you in the infirmary. Normally has brown hair, but currently dyes it a silver/white blonde. Piercing blue eyes with The Golden Center, flecks of green as well. Pierced nose on the left side, uses either a gold ring or a sun shaped stud. Enjoys painting his nails with his younger sisters. Higher voice, very Valley (Girl) boy California accent. Would not be caught dead without his Eyeliner. Obsessed with his daggers, is very dangerous, do not piss him off.

My faceclaim I use for him: Troye Sivan

Yan: semi canon. Athletic build, probably the "buffest" Apollo kid. Dark brown almost black eyes with a darker Golden Center. A gazillion piercings in his ears, his favorite being a dragon cuff. Probably will get a lip piercing. The emo kid people think Nico is. Longer shaggy black hair he keeps pulled back in a ponytail with loose bits hanging out. A smile that says "I have done something and you will never know what." Can be found with a leather jacket with a aroace flag lapel button. Enjoys morning runs because he's a masochist. Oldest in the cabin, but refused leadership because his English isn't perfect and Will had been there longer (he was claimed post Manhatten). Can be found swearing in 3 different Chinese dialects because no one can understand him.

My faceclaim I use: Minghao Xu

Melody: French Princess. No really. Long floaty blonde hair with an "Aurora curl" to it. Wears lots of bows and ribbons in her hair. Would not be caught dead without makeup on. Very delicate, regal gait. Was a ballerina and it shows. Has a very thick French accent and switches languages constantly when she forgets the English word for things. The world's biggest lesbian, loves her girlfriend very much. Very girlie, very sweet, Will kill you if you piss her off. Craves violence (jokingly... unless?) Dimples in both cheeks. Green and Blue eyes with The Golden Center. Smile that could blind a person. Very. Short. Pocket sized.

My faceclaim I use: Sabrina Carpenter

Sohee: the cutest baby angel you will ever see. The youngest camper in Apollo Cabin. Wears ribbons and bows in her long straight black hair. Light brown almond shaped eyes with The Golden Center, look almost amber in the sunlight. Dimples in the tops of her cheeks. Has never wanted a day in her life. Would be the last to die in a zombie apocalypse because everyone else would protect her. Brightest laughter you've ever heard, like tinkling bells. Has a slight Korean accent, but not super noticeable unless you're listening for it. Looks like she could be knocked over by a strong wind, but she will kick your ass even though she's ten. Freckles splashed across her nose, and a beauty mark under her left eye. Long eyelashes she bats to get her way.

Faceclaim I use: Hyein Lee

Gracelynn "Gracie": semi canon. Cutie patootie little blondie. Looks the most related to Will. Pretty blue eyes with The Golden Center. Definitely has a Mormon raised mom and you can tell by the way she dresses. Her hair is more wavy than curly, but you can tell it WANTS to curl, but is too heavy. Always looks like she's about to take flight. Pale, but millions of freckles everywhere. Always has a blue headband in her hair. Permanent "I'm terrified" expression on her face. Evil witch giggle you can hear from a Mile Away and it is SCARY. Best swimmer in Apollo Cabin.

Faceclaim I use: McKenna Grace

I will probably make this for some other important non Apollo Kids, but for now, this is too long as it is