#heres a fun game take a shot every time i say typically

[omegastorms]

Pack Structure

I've decided to start putting up some of what I've nailed down for my own au since I enjoy reading others so much. This seemed like a good place to start. This is a high fantasy setting with shifters, so take note of that.

Dynamic Make Up

While each secondary has typical roles and behaviors associated with them that doesn't mean that everyone fits in the typical roles as it's a spectrum. Individuals will be funneled into roles that suit their strengths, whether or not it's associated with their secondary gender for the good of the collective.

Generally, the breakdown for how many of each designation is: 40% Betas, 35% Alphas, 25% Omegas.

Living Spaces

For the most part, packs are large usually having at least 20 individuals usually more. Most packs will have a large central base that anyone can use, with smaller houses surrounding it for clans or mated pairs who want more privacy.

Prime Alphas

There is only one prime alpha in every pack that typically leads. It is a position the collective can elevate an alpha of their choosing to, or take away if they feel they aren't doing a good job. There are several small differences between a prime alpha and a regular one. However, the biggest difference is a prime alphas commands work on everyone, including alphas.

Governing Councils

Each designation has a council that oversees it and helps advise individuals as well as tackles any smaller disagreements happening within the pack. They're typically made up of highly respected elders. They also appoint advisors to the prime alpha.

Alpha Roles

Alphas typically handle security and most fighting based needs. However because they're stronger then betas and omegas they also help with heavy lifting and construction.

Beta Roles

Betas are mainly archivists, strategists, and historians. They are also very keen hunters so many times they are out hunting to help provide food.

Omega Roles

Omegas are usually seen as the emotional centers/glue that holds everything together. However they usually stay close to home (though not all do). Some choose to float into beta roles. But most of them are tailors, weavers, gardeners, and armorists.

[seospicybin]

I DARE YOU.

Felix x reader. (s)

Synopsis: The shy you meet the charming stranger, Felix, through a dare that leads you both into a whirlwind of a night filled with new, unexpected things. (17,6k words)

Author's note: It’s a late bday fic for Felix. I had soooooo much fun writing the smut in this one and I rarely said that so I hope you had fun too reading it x

Not this—being in a loud, dark club with Rex and her friends, a group of people you barely know, and the alcohol in your glass isn't any less foreign, a poor substitute for your usual chamomile tea.

A typical Friday night for you usually means snuggling on the sofa with your favorite blanket, a book in hand, and a cup of tea.

The music is thumping, the strobing lights flickering incessantly, and the sheer chaos of it all overwhelms your senses. It's overstimulating, like stepping into a world where you don't quite belong.

But here you are, trying to push past your comfort zone for one night, specifically for your best friend, Rex. You make the exception because it's her birthday.

You've known Rex since high school, and to this second, you're still not entirely sure how you two became best friends.

Rex is everything you aren’t—fierce, vibrant, and unapologetically confident—while you are introverted, shy, and awkward. Yet somehow, in that contrast, you found something that clicked. Maybe it's the way she effortlessly pulls you out of your shell or the way she always has your back without needing to say much.

For almost eight years now, this unlikely bond has stood the test of time, bridging the gap between your quiet, dull world and her wild, colorful one.

However, at times, the stark contrast between you and Rex pushes you to the edge. She thrives on excitement, constantly seeking new experiences, while you cling to routine. You like the comfort of predictability—having the same breakfast every day, enjoying the calm of your familiar surroundings. Rex, on the other hand, is always nudging you, sometimes even shoving you, to break free from that comfort zone. She wants you to explore, to live a little, and while you appreciate her intentions, it can feel overwhelming. She never seems to understand that trying new, exciting things isn’t natural for you the way it is for her.

Just like tonight. Rex has convinced everyone to play Never Have I Ever, and it quickly becomes apparent how out of place you are.

Every statement, every confession, is about wild, reckless things—everything you’ve never done. With each round, your glass remains untouched while everyone else takes shots, laughing as they reveal their mischievous pasts.

By the time the group is tipsy and lightheaded from confessing their wild and naughty escapades, you are still as sober as ever, quietly sitting there, feeling even more like a fish out of water.

Rex eventually notices your lack of participation. She puts down her glass and says, “Alright, this is getting boring. Let’s change the game!”

You notice her eyes flicking to you, and you feel your heart sink. “But I’m having fun,” you assure her, forcing an awkward laugh.

Your words are not entirely false. It isn’t like you aren’t having fun—it just isn’t your kind of fun.

Rex smirks, knowing you too well. She can see through your calm façade. “Sure you are. Alright, Never Have I Ever cheated on a test?"

Everyone else laughs, raising their glasses to take a shot, but your glass stays put.

“Guys, you shouldn’t cheat on...” your words trail off as you notice the looks they give you.

“See?” Rex says, turning back to you. “It’s not fun if you’re not participating.”

You scoff, but you can't really argue. It's true. The game isn’t exactly designed for someone like you.

“I’m still having fun,” you insist with a faint smile, but even you can hear how fake that sounds.

Rex lets out a sigh and scoots closer to you. “It’s my birthday, and I want my best friend to have fun on my birthday.”

One of her friends groans, putting her glass down with an exaggerated eye roll. “Whatever, I’m hitting the dance floor.” She slides out of the booth, and the rest follow, leaving you and Rex alone.

Maybe Rex’s birthday has become a bit boring because of you, but you told her before that you would’ve preferred a small gathering at your apartment, maybe just the two of you.

“I’m sorry I’m ruining your birthday,” you mumble, feeling guilty for being a party pooper and aware that it's unfair to her.

However, Rex’s attention has already drifted elsewhere—on someone, to be exact. She turns her head back at you with her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“He’s been checking you out,” she whispers against the loud music.

You snort and shake your head in disbelief, glancing in the direction she subtly nods toward, checking if she's telling the truth.

Across the room, a guy with bleached blond hair and tattooed hands sits casually, dressed in a leather jacket. His fair skin and delicate features are striking, but you can’t help but laugh to yourself. There is no way he is checking you out—not when Rex, your stunning, lively best friend, is sitting right next to you.

Before you can argue, Rex turns your head toward him. Your eyes lock with his instantly, and your heart skips a beat. You tell yourself it's just the loud, thumping music making your chest pound like that. He smiles faintly at you, and you quickly look away, feeling heat rise in your cheeks.

“Okay, new game!” Rex suddenly announces, clapping her hands.

You blink in shock. “Wait, what?”

“Don’t worry, it’s just between you and me,” Rex says with a mischievous grin, taking a second to sip her drink.

You raise an eyebrow, wary of what she has in mind. “Okay...?” you respond nervously.

“Truth or dare,” Rex finally reveals, her eyes gleaming with trouble. “But here’s the twist—there’s no truth.”

“Rex, I don’t—” you begin, but she cuts you off by covering your mouth with her hand.

“It’s my birthday,” she says, her voice low yet commanding. “You’re obliged to do whatever I ask.”

You sigh, nodding reluctantly. Rex removes her hand and holds yours instead, her fingers cool and reassuring despite her devious smile.

“My dear best friend,” she says, that mischievous grin lingering on her red-painted lips, “I dare you to kiss that guy.”

Your eyes follow her finger, and it's pointing at the bleached blond guy with the tattooed hands across the room.

“What? No way!” You blurt out, eyes widening in shock.

“Come on! It’s just a kiss. You can do it," Rex says casually, showing how different the two of you view this dare. She then squeezes your hand and adds, "Besides, he’s been staring at you all night.”

Your heart pounds, not from the music but from the sheer terror of Rex’s dare. Kiss a stranger? In a club? You aren’t Rex—confident and fearless. You’re the girl who barely participated in Never Have I Ever because the wildest thing you’ve ever done is stay up late to study for finals.

“But I… I don’t know him,” you stammer, your palms getting sweaty on your lap.

“That’s the point of the game!" Rex says lightly. "And it’s not like he hasn’t noticed you. He smiled, didn’t he?”

The idea terrifies you, but there is also a small part of you—buried deep under all the shyness and caution—that is curious. What if you step out of your comfort zone for once? What if you do something wild, something you’d never do on your own?

As if she hears your thoughts, Rex leans closer and softly says, “You’ve spent your whole life playing it safe. It’s just one kiss. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You glance back toward the guy. He’s still sitting there, calm and collected, his long bleached-blonde hair falling effortlessly around his face. He hasn’t looked away since your brief, flustered glance earlier. Instead, he seems… unfazed, but there’s something curious in his eyes, like he’s still watching, waiting.

“I can’t,” you mutter again, shaking your head, feeling that familiar wave of discomfort rise in your chest.

Rex leans in closer, holding your hand gently. “Look, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just want you to have fun for once, not think about everything so much. You trust me, right?”

Of course you trust her. Rex has been by your side for eight years, through thick and thin. As wild as she is, she always has your back, no matter what.

The logical part of your brain screams at you to refuse, to stay in your lane. But there’s another voice, quieter but growing louder with each passing second, telling you to just do it, to be bold, even if just for one night.

You inhale deeply, your hand still in hers, and with a shaky voice, you say, “Fine. But if I make a fool of myself, I'll kill you and leave your body in a ditch.”

Rex bursts out laughing, not finding your words threatening at all. “Deal! Now go get him, tiger!” she says, giving you a playful slap on the butt.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” you mutter under your breath, standing up on legs already turning to jelly.

You look over your shoulder and find Rex grinning, clearly delighted. As encouragement, she gives you a nudge in the guy's direction.

As you walk toward him, each step feels surreal, heavier than the last. It doesn’t take long before the guy notices you, and to your surprise, his faint smile grows.

When you finally stop in front of him, you don’t know what to say. Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you regret even considering the dare. But despite everything, you hear your own voice ask, “Do you mind if I kiss you?”

There's no turning back now, and it’s not like he's the type to say no, not with the way he's looking at you—intrigued. And despite the panic in your chest, there’s something thrilling about the way he watches you.

He looks at you with a mix of surprise and amusement, then his smile turns soft. “How could I say no to that?” he says, his voice surprisingly low and deep.

Not giving yourself time to overthink, you close the gap between you and him, leaning in as he does the same until your lips and his meet in the middle.

The kiss isn’t wild or reckless like you imagined it would be. It’s gentle, slow, and—much to your surprise—perfectly in tune with the moment. It feels like the first time you’ve ever kissed anyone, full of nerves, fluttering excitement, and the kind of tenderness you hadn’t expected from a stranger.

When you pull back, your hand flies to your lips, barely believing you’ve just done that. Your heart is still racing, but this time, it isn’t just from fear. You feel the thrill and rush of stepping out of your comfort zone, and you think... maybe you can push yourself a little more, just a little bit.

Absentmindedly, you open your mouth and ask, “Do you want to get out of here?”

-

It's a typical Friday night for Felix—hanging at the club with his friends, having a few drinks, casually watching the scene. The same kind of night he's had countless times. His eyes wander across the room, drifting from one group of people to another, and then… he sees you.

You're completely out of place, dressed in something someone would wear to church on Sunday, your glasses slightly sliding down your nose, sitting with your hands clasped tightly in your lap. The glass you're holding? He's pretty sure it's just an accessory for your idle hand. Then he observes the people you're with—they're clearly here to let loose and have fun, his usual type—the kind of girls who are bold and uninhibited. But you? You're different, and that’s what intrigues him.

Felix isn’t being judgmental. He knows everyone needs to blow off some steam once in a while, but there's something about seeing you in this environment that captivates him. You don’t belong here, not really, and yet here you are. The juxtaposition of your quiet presence amidst the chaos of the club fascinates him. He finds himself watching you without meaning to, drawn to how out of place you are.

Then, your eyes meet. You look right at him from across the room, and he doesn't look away. He holds your gaze, wondering if you’ll hold it too, but you drop your eyes almost immediately.

The shyness in that simple act is oddly cute because most girls he meets in places like this are bold, forward. They don't shy away from eye contact, but you? There is something sweet in your hesitance.

The second time you glance over, Felix notices a change. You're a little braver, and this time, you don’t just look—you stand up. Your steps are hesitant but purposeful as you cross the room, and before he can think too much about it, you're right in front of him.

“Do you mind if I kissed you?” you ask, your voice soft, small yet determined.

Felix raises an eyebrow, surprised but amused. He can’t help but smile at the way you asked for permission. Most girls don’t ask—they just do. But your politeness, your shyness, the way you're so out of place in this club yet standing in front of him, asking so sweetly—it's irresistible.

He looks at you, his smile widening. “How could I say no to that?”

A kiss has always just been a kiss for Felix—a simple way to satisfy some biological need, with no deeper meaning behind it. But this? This kiss doesn’t feel like that.

The kiss takes him back to something he hasn’t felt in years—the thrill of a first kiss. The kind that's innocent, pure, and full of nervous excitement. He can’t remember the last time he had a kiss that made him feel like this—something chaste but electrifying all at once.

As you pull away, Felix almost groans in protest. He wants more, needs more of that flutter, that spark. His lips tingle, and he can tell yours do too, as your hand flies up to your mouth as if you can’t believe what just happened.

"Do you want to get out of here?" you ask, your voice shy, but with a daring edge that Felix hadn’t expected.

Your charm is something else—shy and demure one moment, then bold and forward the next, endlessly fascinating him. There's just something about you that makes this feel less like a random encounter and more like something worth exploring.

Consider his curiosity piqued, eager to see where this unlikely encounter will take him next. He meets your gaze, a playful smile tugging at his lips, then he says, "Lead the way!"

You turn, feeling the heat of his presence close behind you as you make your way through the packed club. The noise slowly recedes, replaced by a focused, almost intimate atmosphere between you.

As you reach the exit, Felix places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. Once outside, the cool night air hits you, a refreshing contrast to the club’s stuffy heat.

Felix glances at you, his smile still in place, and asks, “So, what’s the plan?”

-

To be honest, you have no idea why you asked him out. You acted spontaneously, which is unlike you, but you know what you want. You crave the thrill and the excitement, and ultimately, more of that explosive kiss. 

Without thinking, you reach for Felix’s arm, pulling him toward the dimly lit alley next to the club. The urgency between you both is palpable, the energy from that brief kiss still simmering just beneath the surface. 

As soon as you're out of sight from the street, Felix pins you against a stack of old crates filled with empty beer bottles. His hands find your waist and pull you close. Your lips collide again, this time more passionate, more intense. Your heart is beating out of your chest as your fingers tangle in his long hair. 

In the intensity of the moment, you lean back slightly, misjudging the proximity of the crate. Your head strikes the edge with a sharp thud, and the sudden pain makes you wince. 

You gasp and accidentally break the kiss for a second, but you decide to laugh it off—you don’t want to ruin the moment. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice tinted with concern. 

“I’m fine," you say, half-laughing. 

Felix smiles, though concern fills his eyes as he leans in close. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay, I’m—” you begin to blabber, wanting to resume the heated moment by leaning in for another kiss, but you immediately stop when you notice the shift in his expression. 

His hand reaches up to the side of your head, and that’s when you feel it too—the warm, sticky sensation spreading through your hair. Then, he shows you his fingers, coated with your blood. 

“I don’t think you're okay,” he mutters, his voice suddenly serious. “You’re bleeding.” 

You can feel the adrenaline and embarrassment mingling as the pain begins to set in. 

Felix gently touches your shoulder, trying to comfort you as he guides you away from the alley. “We need to get this checked out. We need to go to the hospital.” 

Oh, no! This was supposed to be your night of finally breaking out of your shell, not a night where you make a fool of yourself in front of a hot guy. 

“It’s not a big deal. I don’t need to go to the hospital,” you insist, trying to brush off the situation. 

He shakes his head firmly, but his hand remains gentle on the small of your back. “We’re getting this checked out. You can’t just ignore it.” 

Without taking any of your excuses, Felix hails a taxi until one stops and pulls to the side of the road. He helps you get in, and on the ride to the nearest hospital, he checks on you every once in a while, asking if you're okay. His tatted hands and rough exterior are such a contrast to his gentle, attentive demeanor. 

That only makes you hate how the night has taken a turn. The two of you could have done more than just kiss by now if it weren’t for you bumping your head on a stupid crate. 

“Come back if you feel dizzy, nauseous, or if there’s a ringing in your ears,” the doctor says as she takes off her latex gloves, leaving the nurse to finish the rest. 

Despite the night’s earlier excitement, you feel a tinge of embarrassment about the whole incident. You're thinking of faking a concussion just to stay the night in the emergency room, but you're aware that would only make him worry more about you. 

Guess there's no other option but to push your way through this humiliation. 

As you step out of the emergency room, you see him standing against the wall, looking impossibly cool in his rough leather jacket. With his striking features, he could’ve been doing a photo shoot for a magazine. 

“Hi,” you nervously greet him. 

The adrenaline has drained from your body, leaving you feeling deflated. It's like the girl who kissed a stranger in a dark alley has vanished, replaced by your usual shy, awkward self—plus, you now have a bandage on your forehead. 

The magic of the night has faded, and you wouldn't blame Felix if he decided to leave now that he’s met the real you. He glances up from his phone, a soft smile stretching across his lips. 

“Hey. You okay?” he asks, putting his phone back into the pocket of his leather jacket. 

“Three stitches, no concussion,” you say, trying to sound casual. 

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Felix sighs, visibly relaxing. 

“You know, you don’t have to wait for me. I can deal with this myself,” you say, feeling a little guilty. He’s already done enough by helping you get to the hospital. 

“I can’t do that,” Felix says, his voice steady. 

“Why not?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

“I can’t just leave when you’re hurt,” he answers simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 

That's such an unexpected answer from an unexpected man. He barely knows you, yet here he is, waiting outside an emergency room just to make sure you're okay. That thought warms you—but then it hits you: you don’t even know his name. 

“Unless I’m actually concussed… do I know your name?” you ask with a shy laugh. “Or did we skip introductions?” 

Felix chuckles, holding out his hand to you. “Felix,” he says, his deep voice sending a pleasant shiver through you. 

You take his hand, offering your name in return. “Nice to meet you, Felix.” 

It's about to get awkward from here, you can feel it. The momentum of the night has stalled, and now you aren’t sure what to say or do. You like him, but it feels like the window to continue this spontaneous night has closed. Maybe it’s better to retreat. 

“I’d better head home,” you mutter in defeat, but deep down, you hope the end of the night won’t feel as anticlimactic as it seems. 

To your surprise, Felix straightens up from the wall and turns toward the exit. With a warm and genuine smile, he offers, “Let me take you home.”

-

As Felix stands outside the emergency room, leaning against the wall, he notices you stepping out, looking more like yourself again—shy, awkward, but also kind of endearing. He can see the hint of embarrassment in your eyes, like you're expecting him to vanish now that things aren't as wild as they were earlier. But you have no idea he isn’t that kind of guy, not when it comes to this. 

You walk over, your voice soft and uncertain as you greet him, “Hi.” 

“Hey. You’re okay?” he puts on a smile, relieved that you're okay. 

“Three stitches, no concussion,” you answer, trying to play it down. 

“That’s a relief,” he sighs. 

Honestly, if anything worse had happened to you, he would’ve felt responsible, and he can’t live with that. Sure, his appearance might have given off the wrong vibe, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. You need help, so he helps you. 

“You know, you don’t even have to wait for me. I can just deal with it myself," you awkwardly clasp your hands in front of you and keep avoiding his eyes as you speak. 

“I can’t do that,” he says; there’s no way he leaves you alone after everything. 

“Why not?” you ask, genuinely confused. 

Felix doesn’t really have an answer to that, so he slowly shrugs and says, “I can’t just leave when you’re hurt.” 

You give him this look, like you're trying to figure him out. He guesses you don't expect him to care, but he does, and that is that. 

A moment passes in silence, and you shift awkwardly in front of him. “Unless I’m actually concussed... do I know your name, or did we skip the introduction?” 

It only hits him now that you both indeed haven't introduced each other. He chuckles and holds out his hand. “Felix.” 

You take it, and your hand feels warm and delicate in his. “Nice to meet you, Felix.” 

You seem like you're about to wrap up the night, but he can see it in the way you're fidgeting, like you're ready to go but also unsure about how to end things. 

“I’d better head home,” you mutter, your voice almost apologetic. 

But Felix isn’t ready to end the night, and he can tell you don’t want to, either—you just don’t have the nerve to ask. And honestly, he doesn’t want the moment to slip away, so he decides to give you an out. 

“Let me take you home,” he offers, and when your eyes meet his, he can see the relief flicker across your face. 

When the taxi pulls up outside your apartment building, he watches you try to act cool, but he can tell you’re hesitating. You don’t want the night to end any more than he does, but you aren’t going to say it. 

Felix has been with enough people to know when someone is too shy to speak up, and you are definitely in that space. He leans in slightly and asks, “Do you mind if I come in for a bit? I’m afraid I need to use your bathroom.” 

Your face lights up with a smile you can’t hide, and he has to hold back a grin of his own. 

“I don’t mind at all," you say, trying so hard to conceal the excitement in your voice. 

The two of you head inside. You lead the way to your apartment, climbing the stairs, giving him a view of your back as the hem of your dress sways while you walk until you reach the fourth floor.

Thank God for that! If you climbed another flight of stairs, he would have followed his intrusive thoughts and dropped to his knees to peek under your skirt to see what kind of underwear you’re wearing. 

Felix bets it's white, cotton, probably with cute floral prints. He shakes the thought away when you abruptly stop walking as you arrive at the front door of your apartment. 

Once you unlock the door, you open it and step aside to let Felix in. He flashes you a smile as he steps in the small yet cozy apartment. He glances around and sees the pictures on the wall, mostly of you and a tall girl with curly brown hair. He remembers her as one of the girls you’ve been with at the club. 

“The bathroom is that way,” you tell him, and Felix makes his way down the hall. 

Once inside, he wastes a bit of time washing his hands, fixing his hair, checking the hair products, all the while giving you a moment to settle. 

When he comes out, you’re in the kitchen, your hair now tied back into a low bun, exposing your neck and the soft tendrils of hair on the nape of your neck. You look… different, but still really cute. 

“Would you like a drink?” you ask, sauntering your way to the fridge. 

“Anything cold would be nice,” he answers. 

You take two cans of soda out of the fridge, bringing them with you to the living room and sitting on the small sofa. 

“Sit down, please,” you say, permitting him to sit in the space next to you since there’s no other place to sit. 

“This is a nice apartment,” he comments, his eyes glancing around while his hand works the tab on his soda can. 

“Thanks,” you mutter with a smile, holding the can of soda in both hands. It has been opened, but you're not drinking it. 

"I can safely assume you live with a roommate?" he asks, then takes a gulp of his soda, which instantly refreshes him. 

"Yes," you answer. "Rex, she’s one of the girls... back in the club," you awkwardly explain, confirming that he's right—she's the same girl from the club. 

"Is it short for Tyrannosaurus—" he pauses for dramatic effect, "—Rex?" 

You let out a chuckle and push your glasses up your nose. "Her real name is Rebecca, but she insisted on being called Rex because it's..." 

"Sounds cooler?" he easily guesses. 

"Yeah," you nod in confirmation, "and it's her birthday today, so..." 

"That's why you were at the club?" he asks, slowly getting his curiosity answered. 

"I think it's obvious that I wasn't there because of my own volition," you openly admit. 

Felix can see it now—the way you seemed out of place back at the club. It isn’t your scene, and it makes sense now that you explained it is Rex’s thing. He hesitates, feeling a question burning in his mind, one that he needs an answer to, regardless of what it might reveal. 

"And the kiss?"

-

Oh, no! Not this again. 

Please don't say that Felix is actually interested in Rex and that he was checking her out instead of you. This wouldn't be your first time, but what a pity! What a pity it would be if that turned out to be true. 

Until Felix asked about the kiss and whether it was Rex’s idea or not. 

Your throat tightens, but you know you have to be honest. “Rex dared me to do it,” you admit, your words tumbling out faster than you wanted. 

He nods, but you can see a flash of disappointment in his eyes—brief but noticeable. Before he can respond, you rush to explain the rest of the truth. 

“But the one we shared in the alley? That was me. I wanted that,” you add. 

Felix gives you the chance to explain more, so you continue, determined to make him understand. You put your can of soda on the table and inhale before speaking. 

“Earlier, during this game Rex and her friends played, they were talking about all these wild things they’d done, and I just sat there... realizing how much I’ve missed out on.” You pause to let out a sigh as the weight of your confession settles between you. “I’ve spent so much time focused on studying, hitting all my academic goals, that I never gave myself the chance to live. And I don’t want to wake up one day full of regret for not taking chances.” 

You look up from your lap at him—not necessarily meeting his eyes, or else you'll be a nervous wreck. “So tonight, I decided to push myself for once. The kiss might’ve started as a dare, but when I pulled you into that alley… that was real. For the first time in my life, I felt so alive.” 

Felix remains quiet for a moment, his eyes searching yours, taking in every word. You can feel his hesitation, though—a cautious distance. His concern isn’t just about your head injury; it's something more. 

“You don’t have to do all that just because your friends have done it,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. “You do it when you’re ready.” 

His words hit home, and you feel a wave of realization. The thrill and the pressure you’ve felt earlier are starting to clash with a deeper understanding of what you really want. 

You may be naïve and know little about this intimate stuff, but you're also the one who knows you best, and you know what you want—you want this. 

“I’m doing this for me. I want it. I'm ready," you unequivocally say, full of conviction. 

Felix’s expression softens, but doubts linger in his eyes. “I think you know what kind of guy I am. I don’t do relationships. I… casually date. I’m not a good guy.” 

You can’t help but smile at that, shaking your head in disagreement at his last statement. “You insisted on taking me to the hospital, waited until I got treated, and then made sure I got home safely. If that’s not a good guy, I don’t know what is,” you lay out all the facts on why he isn't what he says he is. 

He sighs, clearly conflicted, running his hand through his long, bleached hair. “I’m just not sure if you really want to do this… with me.” 

“I want to do this with you," you say without the slightest doubt. 

There's a reason why he's here when he had his chances to walk out of this situation. He could have ditched you back there in the club, in the dark alley, or at the hospital. He could have gotten into that taxi and gone home, but instead, he chose to come in here. 

Felix is quiet again, his eyes locked on yours as he considers what you said. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he lets out a sigh, letting the last bit of hesitation slip away from him. 

"We should go to your bedroom," he says, his voice low but confident. 

The excitement flares up in your chest, your heart racing as you rise from the sofa. This is it. The feeling you’ve been chasing all night—the sense of truly living, of stepping out of your comfort zone. You lead him to your bedroom, each step heavy with anticipation. 

When you open the door to your bedroom, you pause for a moment, suddenly feeling vulnerable. It’s strange—no one ever warns you how personal it feels to show someone your bedroom. It’s not just a room; it’s a reflection of you, of your habits, your life. You close the door behind you, your breath catching as Felix steps in and takes a quick look around. 

He glances over the shelves, where countless books are crammed into every available space. A small smile tugs at his lips, a look of slight amusement crossing his face as he takes it all in. It’s like he doesn’t expect this—your quiet, introverted world clashing with the chaotic energy of the night. 

But then his eyes land back on you, and your pulse quickens. You’re alone now, really alone, in the privacy of your bedroom, and the reality of it all settles over you. You can feel the weight of the moment, not knowing how to begin but wanting to. You step closer to him, hoping he’ll take the lead. 

Felix sits down on the edge of your bed, his eyes still on you. He pats the space beside him, an invitation, and you sit down next to him, nerves tingling under your skin. 

"You have a very interesting room," he says with a playful smile, but there’s no mockery in his tone—only genuine surprise. 

You shyly chuckle, your hands fidgeting in your lap. "Yeah, I’m… very aware." 

He turns to you, his gaze softening. He’s studying you, taking you in, and when he looks into your eyes, you feel like he’s seeing something deeper. Then, as if realizing something, his brow furrows slightly. 

“Can I take them off?" he asks, nodding toward your glasses. "Will you still be able to see without them?” 

“I’m nearsighted, so yeah,” you confirm, your hand halfway to your face to take them off, but Felix gets ahead, gently removing them for you. Then he places them carefully on your bedside table. 

The world around you becomes a soft blur, but Felix… Felix is in perfect focus. He’s all you can see. His delicate features stand out, his warm brown eyes locking onto yours, his freckles like tiny constellations dusting his cheeks and nose. It’s like he’s become the center of your universe, and nothing else matters in that moment. 

You get a little overwhelmed as you take him in—his beauty so striking, so close, making your heart beat out of your chest. You wonder if he can hear it too. 

"Can I take your hair down?" Felix asks, his voice soft but deliberate. 

Unable to provide a verbal answer, you nod. His hand is quick to reach behind your head, releasing your hair from the tie, and you feel an unexpected wave of relaxation wash over you, like the tension you’d been carrying all night had been held there, in your hair. 

Felix’s fingers move through the strands gently, combing through them, letting the ends slip through his fingers. The tattoos on his hand catch your attention, and as his sleeve rides up, you notice even more ink snaking up his arm. 

"How many tattoos do you have?" you ask, unable to hide your curiosity. 

"I stopped counting a long time ago," Felix chuckles, a lightness in his voice that makes you smile. 

He notices your lingering gaze on his tattoos, and without hesitation, he starts unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt. He lets the fabric fall back, giving you a clearer view of the designs that cover his skin. The sight of his muscles beneath the inked patterns, the veins trailing down his arm, captivates you. 

"Is it okay if I touch you?" you ask, your voice quiet, unsure if it’s too bold. 

"You can touch me," he says with an encouraging smile, "anywhere." 

The last word unexpectedly provokes you; it was just a word until Felix gives it a new meaning now, and it's been echoing in the back of your mind in his deep, low voice. Anywhere. 

With a tentative hand, you reach out, slowly rolling his sleeve up higher. The tattoos become more detailed—the lines and shading intricate—but what holds your attention is the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. The combination of the ink and the physicality of him makes you feel a strange sense of intimacy. Afraid that you're overstepping, you let the sleeve fall back and flash him a smile of gratitude.

“You know this will be easier if you sit closer,” Felix says, his tone suggestive but gentle. 

You shift closer, trying to keep your breath steady. The space between you shrinks, but the heat from his body seems to rise, making your heart race. 

"Closer," Felix murmurs, his eyes twinkling with amusement. 

You move another inch. 

"More," he says, his voice a bit firmer this time. 

You scoot a little more until finally, there’s no space left between you. Your body is pressed against his, and the warmth from him feels overwhelming, your skin tingling from the proximity. 

"I think you should put your hand around my neck," Felix suggests, his voice a low rumble. 

"Are you sure?" you ask, still worried about overstepping. 

"Of course," he reassures you, guiding your hand up to his shoulder. 

From there, you let it drift to the back of his neck, feeling the strong line of muscle beneath your palm. 

The two of you are incredibly close; you can feel his breath brushing against your cheek. As if the proximity isn't enough, his hand cups your jaw, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. 

It doesn't take a genius to know what comes next; you can feel it coming as the tension intensifies with each passing second. 

"I'm not a good kisser," you blurt out, your insecurities successfully breaking through the haze of the moment. 

"You did just fine earlier," he says, watching as his thumb swipes across your lower lip. 

You try to argue, but before you can say another word, Felix presses a soft kiss to your cheek, leaving a searing warmth behind. 

"Stop thinking and just..." he trails off, kissing just beneath your eye, sending a shock of sensation through you, "… do it." 

Before you can process his words, his lips find yours. The kiss is electric and powerful, wiping away every doubt and insecurity. The world narrows down to the feeling of his mouth on yours, the sound of your breath mingling in the quiet of your bedroom. 

Felix pulls away just enough for you to catch your breath, his hand moving to brush your hair to the side. He does it carefully to avoid accidentally touching the bandaged wound on your forehead. 

"Now," he says, voice deep with desire, "we’re going to put in a little tongue." 

Dazed and a little disoriented from the kiss, you nod, your brain unable to compute a word. 

He kisses you again, this time slower, more deliberate, teasing you with his tongue as it slides across your lips. It’s sensual and intimate, and when you let him in, the kiss deepens, and you try your best to move in sync with him. 

When Felix pulls away, he’s grinning, looking impressed. "See? You’re a natural." 

Flustered, you look down, but he isn’t having it. He wants your eyes, your full attention on him, so he puts his hand under your chin, gently angling your face back toward his. 

Not giving you a moment to think, he plants a kiss on your lips again—gently, but there’s intensity to it, a sense of hunger that needs to be satisfied. 

At the same time, his other hand travels down to your back, tracing down your spine before he withdraws it back to your front, reaching for the button of your dress. 

You've been handling it well so far, but when he touches you there, it triggers the alarm bells in your head. You try to convince yourself that it's okay; you trust Felix, and he's not going to harm you, but your body abruptly freezes, and you stiffen against him. 

Felix notices immediately and takes his hands off of you, concern painted on his small face. 

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks softly, not wanting to alarm you further. 

First, it was Rex’s birthday party, and not long after that, you did it again by bumping your head during a makeout session in the dark alley, and now this. You sigh and look down at your lap, wondering why you keep sabotaging your life like this. 

"I’m sorry, I just... I–I wasn’t ready for that," you meekly say, looking down at your lap, feeling embarrassed. 

"That’s okay," he says with a soothing voice. "I’d rather you tell me when you’re uncomfortable." 

Anyone else might have been annoyed or disappointed, but Felix—he’s patient, gentle, and very understanding. You feel a rush of gratitude for him. 

"Okay," you murmur, nodding. 

"Or you can just slap me next time," he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. 

Slapping his face would feel like vandalizing the Mona Lisa, so you shake your head in strong disagreement while softly laughing, "No. I wouldn’t do that." 

Thanks to you freaking out without reason, you have to start all over again, and you can only hope that Felix has some patience left for you. 

You watch as he glances toward your bedside table, eyeing the small stack of books. "Are these the ones you’re reading?" 

"Yeah," you reply, your smile returning. 

"You’re telling me you’re reading five books at once?" he asks. His tattooed fingers trail along the spines as he reads the titles under his breath. 

"Three are for school," you say, chuckling, "but the other two are for fun." 

"Oh, so you do know how to have fun," he teases you with a charming smile that makes his eyes lively. 

You know he's trying to lighten the mood, and you feel thankful that he indeed still has some patience left in him. 

Felix picks up the smallest one from the top of the stack and flips through the pages. "Poetry," he remarks. 

"Yeah," you nod, feeling a bit shy. 

He looks at you with something new in his eyes. "Would you read me one?" 

"A poem?" you stammer. 

"No, the index page," he teases you yet again. 

You laugh, feeling a bit silly for asking, and then take the book from him. You open it, easily finding the page you marked as your favorite poem. 

"Okay... I’ll try," you say as you clear your throat.

Your fingers nervously brush the edges of the page, eyes glancing at the words, but you’re aware of Felix’s gaze on you. His presence is overwhelming—his closeness, the subtle intensity in his expression. 

Despite everything, you begin reading, your voice low and a little shaky. 

"Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which I cannot touch because they are too near." 

Felix leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. His hand moves to the back of your neck, brushing the loose strands of your hair away. 

You pause, feeling the pressure of his nearness, but he nudges you gently. 

"Keep reading," he whispers against your skin, the warmth of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. 

You swallow, forcing yourself to focus. Your voice is a little shaky as you continue. 

"Your slightest look easily will unclose me though I have closed myself as fingers; you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens—" 

Felix’s lips press softly against the corner of your mouth just as your voice falters. You draw in a breath, trying to steady yourself, but his kiss lingers, feather-light and teasing. 

You glance at him, the lines of the poem slipping from your mind. 

"Go on," he murmurs, his mouth now brushing your jawline. His hand slips to your waist, holding you in place as if keeping you tethered to the moment. 

"I... I—" you stammer, your focus crumbling under his touch, his lips trailing a path down to your neck. You grip the book tighter, trying to maintain the thread of the poem, your voice coming out as a breathy whisper: "you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose—" 

Felix presses another kiss just below your ear, making your breath hitch. He’s being gentle but deliberate, his lips grazing your skin with an intention that makes it almost impossible to concentrate. 

Your heart bursts, the words on the page becoming blurry. "Felix..." you murmur, caught between the poem and the sensation of his kisses. 

"Don’t stop," he whispers again, this time against the curve of your neck, sending a rush of warmth through you. "I want to hear the rest." 

Your voice quivers as you try to continue, the lines of the poem mixing with the feeling of his lips. 

"Or if your wish be to close me, I and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending—" 

His kisses grow slower, more languid, as if savoring every inch of your skin. Each one draws you further away from the poem, your pulse quickening under his touch. He pulls back just slightly, and his eyes meet yours, his gaze heavy with desire, but still, he urges you on. 

"Finish it," he says softly, his thumb tracing your lower lip as he holds your gaze. 

You exhale shakily, barely able to focus anymore, but you try.

"Nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility..." 

Before you can finish the last line, Felix’s lips capture yours, cutting off the rest of the poem. His kiss is deeper this time, not asking for permission but claiming the moment as his own. The book slips from your hand, forgotten, as you lean into him, your breath mingling with his. 

The poetry becomes a distant memory as his kisses consume you, every touch drawing you further into him. And for the first time, you don’t feel the need to pull back or hesitate. You melt into the moment, into him, as the poem fades into the background, replaced by the quiet intensity of Felix’s lips on yours. 

The poem may be incomplete, but the moment is whole. 

-

Felix watches as you fumble with the edges of the poetry book, your nervousness plain in the way your fingers tremble. He can sense how hard you’re trying to focus, trying to find your voice in the moment.

There’s a certain charm in how unsure you are, the way your eyes keep darting up to him, like you’re looking for some kind of permission. But he knows you don’t need it. You want this—he can feel it in the air between you.

When you finally start to read, your voice is soft, hesitant.

“Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence...”

Felix can barely concentrate on the words. It’s your voice—that shaky, uncertain quality—that pulls him in, and you’re so close. He leans in, pressing the warmth of his lips against your cheek, testing, teasing. He feels the way you stiffen, your breath catching. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but the urge to touch you, to close that gap, is too strong.

"Keep reading," he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin, barely above a whisper. He feels your pulse quicken beneath his touch.

You take a deep breath and continue, your voice even softer now, trying to hold it together.

"Your slightest look easily will unclose me though I have closed myself as fingers..."

As your voice trails off again, Felix can't resist. His lips graze the corner of your mouth, light and fleeting. He watches your eyes flutter, sees the way you're barely hanging onto the thread of the poem, and it makes him smile inwardly. He pulls back just enough to see the heat in your cheeks, the uncertainty fighting with desire in your eyes.

"Go on," he urges, this time pressing his lips to the soft skin just beneath your jawline. His hand slips to your waist, fingers curling lightly around you, holding you steady, grounding you as he teases.

"I–I..." Your voice falters completely as his lips trail lower, brushing the sensitive spot near your neck.

He loves the way you stammer, the way your breath comes in shallow gasps.

"You open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens—"

Felix hears your voice waver again, and he chuckles softly against your neck. He knows exactly what he’s doing. The poem doesn’t stand a chance against his kisses, but he likes this game, this slow unraveling of your composure.

"Felix..." you murmur, barely able to hold onto the words.

He pulls back just enough to speak, his breath warm against your ear. "Don’t stop." His voice is low, coaxing, as he brushes another kiss just below your ear. "I want to hear the rest."

You try—he can see you trying—but the way you tremble beneath his touch makes it almost impossible for you to concentrate. He watches you struggle, a mix of amusement and desire in his gaze as you fight to continue.

"...Or if your wish be to close me, I and my life will shut very beautifully..."

Felix’s lips move slowly across your skin, savoring every inch. He can feel the tension in you, the way you’re holding onto control by a thread. But then, something shifts. He presses one last kiss to your neck, soft and lingering, and watches as your resolve crumbles. The book slips from your hands, your breath hitching in your chest.

“Finish it,” Felix whispers, his thumb grazing your lower lip. He can see the words have all but left you, but he waits, eyes fixed on your trembling lips.

"...The power of your intense fragility..."

Before you can finish the line, Felix presses his lips to yours. The words are lost as he kisses you, claiming the moment. There’s no hesitation in the way your body responds, melting into him as if you’ve been waiting for this all night. The book falls from your hands, forgotten, as his hands move to pull you closer.

He feels the way you surrender to the kiss, how every bit of uncertainty you held before dissolves. His kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, until he pulls back just enough to look at you, lips still close, your breaths mingling.

Felix takes a quick check to see if you're comfortable enough to continue, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he leans his forehead against yours. He can feel the way you’re still caught in the moment, still wanting more.

His hand slides down to your shoulder, tracing the curve of your spine. He brushes your hair to the side, kissing you again—slower this time, deeper. The way you respond, your lips meeting his with growing confidence, only pulls him in more.

Felix takes your hand and gently places it on his chest. He feels the way your hand stays immobile for a moment, but then it starts to move, roaming curiously over his body. Your touch is tentative but warm, and soon enough, your fingers tug at the opening of his shirt, revealing a peek of inked skin underneath. Felix notices the way your curiosity lights up your face. “Do you want to see the rest of my tattoos?”

You hesitate, biting your lip as you think about it, unsure if you should say yes. To avoid letting him hear how eager you are, you nod instead.

“But you have to help me with the buttons,” he says, glancing down at his shirt.

It’s a subtle invitation, but the way he says it makes you feel like you’re in control. You start undoing the buttons, one by one, your fingers working carefully, as if each button is a gateway to something unknown. When you finish, you stop, leaving the fabric still draped across his chest. There’s a moment of hesitation, as if parting the shirt will reveal something too intimate, something more than just skin.

Felix senses your nerves, so he does the rest; he shrugs the shirt off his shoulders, revealing the ink that covers his chest and arms. Normally, he’s confident about his body, but under your gaze, he feels a flicker of vulnerability. You’re studying him, and he can feel the weight of it, like you’re looking past the surface.

“It’s all over you,” you mutter in awe.

One, in particular, seems to draw your attention—the dragon on his ribcage. Felix notices the way your hand lingers there, eyes fixed on the intricate design. He smiles softly, taking your hand and pressing it gently against the dragon.

“Here... feel it,” he says, guiding your touch.

Your fingers trace the lines of the tattoo, feather-light and full of wonder. Every slight graze of your fingertips sends a rush through him, and the way you’re touching him so delicately is like you’re trying to memorize the feel of each tattoo.

“Do you like it?” he asks, his voice soft but laced with curiosity.

“I had no idea I liked tattoos until now,” you innocently answer.

There's something so honest in your words, and Felix can’t help but smile, feeling the tension between you shift into something deeper, more intimate. He watches you as your fingers continue to explore, and for the first time in a long while, he feels a kind of peace in this closeness, like it’s more than just physical. There’s something in the way you touch him, like you’re seeing him for the first time—not just his body, but all the stories inked into his skin.

Then you take your hand back and fidget in your seat. You open your mouth, but no words come out. After a while, you ask, “Should I undress?”

“Only if you want to,” he says, not wanting to pressure you and also trying to make it clear that this is on your terms.

With a shy nod, you start moving, fingers flying to the buttons of your dress, fumbling a little in your nervousness. Felix notices and, sensing your discomfort, turns his head away, giving you the privacy you need. He helps by dimming the lights on your bedside lamp, knowing that a girl like you prefers the softer glow to ease the tension. Now, the room is bathed in a quiet, warm light, making everything feel more intimate, more comfortable.

“Do you need help?” he offers after a moment, his back still to you.

“I’m done anyway,” you respond, your voice softer now.

Felix hears the faint sound of your dress hitting the floor, and he inhales, preparing himself for what he's going to see. He turns his head slowly, careful not to look directly at you until he’s sure you’re comfortable. His eyes first meet yours, searching for any sign that you’re nervous, that you want him to stop, but you hold his gaze, and that’s all the permission he needs. His eyes travel down, finally taking in the sight of you.

The first thing that catches his attention is the unexpected—the matching silk and lace set you’re wearing, soft and delicate against your skin. It’s a contrast to the image he had in mind, and it takes his breath away. The colors, the fabric—it all highlights your natural beauty in a way that almost overwhelms him.

Beautiful. That’s the only word that comes to mind, but even that feels like it doesn’t do you justice. You’re beyond that. You’re captivating in a way that makes him hesitant to even touch you, as if the act itself would somehow break the spell between you.

“I want to touch you,” he admits, his voice trembling with restraint, overwhelmed by how much he desires you but not wanting to rush.

“Okay,” you say, so simply, so openly.

-

The intimacy of the moment is overwhelming. Felix is sitting there, shirtless, and the way he’s looking at you makes your skin tingle. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken questions.

After a while, you finally manage to speak. “Should I undress?”

Felix’s gaze is soft, his voice gentle when he responds, “Only if you want to.”

His words reassure you, but still, your hands tremble as you reach for the buttons on your dress. You fumble with them, nervous fingers struggling to move faster. Felix, sensing your discomfort, turns away, giving you a moment to compose yourself. It’s a small gesture, but it makes you feel better, like he understands without needing to be told.

You manage to undo the last button, letting the dress slip down your shoulders and fall to the floor with a soft thud. You glance at Felix, and he still isn’t looking. He’s turned the light down, creating a softer, warmer atmosphere that eases some of the tension in your chest. It’s as if he knows that you’d rather not be fully exposed in the harsh glow of bright light.

“Do you need help?” he asks, his voice careful, like he’s afraid of pushing you too far.

“I’m done anyway,” you reply, your voice shaky but steady enough.

Felix exhales, turning back to face you slowly, almost cautiously. He looks into your eyes first, making sure you’re okay before letting his gaze travel down. When his eyes finally take in the sight of you, you see something shift in him. His expression softens, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest, almost painfully so.

You weren’t sure what he’d expect to see, but the look on his face—like he’s in awe—makes you feel beautiful in a way you’ve never felt before. You're wearing your favorite matching set, silk and lace, in a color that contrasts perfectly with your skin. You chose it thinking you might need something that makes you feel confident, but now, under Felix’s gaze, you wonder if it was the right choice. But then you see the way he looks at you, like you’re something precious, and all your doubts melt away.

“I want to touch you,” Felix says softly, his voice trembling, almost as if he’s afraid to break the moment.

“Okay,” you answer, trying to sound calm even though your heart feels like it’s about to explode.

Felix doesn’t rush. His movements are slow, deliberate. He brushes your hair aside, his fingertips barely grazing your skin, but it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine. His knuckles trace down your chest, stopping at the center, right between your breasts. His hand rests flat there, and you feel the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin, the beat of your heart thudding loudly under his touch.

“You're so beautiful,” he softly murmurs as he looks into your eyes.

You can feel heat spreading across your face. You want to say something, but the words get stuck in your throat. Instead, you just look down, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, by how gentle and caring he’s being.

Felix leans in, and when he kisses you, it’s not rushed. His lips are soft, and the kiss is gentle, as though he’s trying to coax you out of your shell. You kiss him back, a little more confidently this time, the warmth of his body pressing against yours making everything feel more natural.

The more time you spend with Felix, the more certain you feel that you’re in the right place, with the right person. His presence is calming, his touch patient and careful. Every kiss, every gentle brush of his hand against your skin reminds you that he’s giving you all the time in the world. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t push you beyond what you’re ready for, and that thought alone is enough to make your heart swell.

Felix holds back so much—it’s evident in the way he slows his movements, adjusting to your hesitance, waiting for you to catch up, to feel comfortable. You notice how he looks at you, always checking, always making sure you’re okay with what’s happening. He’s so understanding that you can feel your insecurities start to melt away, one by one, like the weight of them no longer matters in this space you’ve created together.

As the kissing becomes more intense, your breathing picks up, and the room feels warmer. You feel his strong yet gentle hand resting on your shoulder, his fingers playing with the strap of your bra, and you know what comes next.

This time, you decide to take the initiative and ask, “Do you want me to take these off?”

“If you allow me to,” he answers with a soft smile.

You’ve always known your body isn't the kind men fantasize about, or at least, that’s what you tell yourself. “They’re not—They’re not my best features,” you meekly admit.

Felix’s eyes don’t waver, and his smile turns into a playful smirk, one that both teases and comforts at the same time. “How can I know for sure when I haven’t seen them?”

You feel a smile tugging at your lips; he has a fair point, and you can’t argue with him when he looks at you like that—like he sees you, not just the parts you want to hide.

You nod, giving him permission, and lean forward slightly to make it easier for him to reach behind you. His fingers find the clasp of your bra almost immediately, without hassle.

The sound of it unclasping makes your breath hitch, anticipation swirling in the air between you, and then he pulls back just enough to let the bra fall away, his fingers gently sliding the straps down your shoulders. His movements are slow, with excitement simmering underneath, as if he’s unwrapping a precious gift.

And then, you’re bare in front of him, vulnerable in a way that sends a nervous thrill through you.

Felix doesn’t rush to fill the silence. He doesn’t gawk or make you feel exposed. Instead, he looks at you with a soft, quiet admiration that makes your heart flutter.

“They're perfect,” he says, and the sincerity in his praise makes your insecurities seem small, insignificant.

-

Felix's breath catches in his throat at the sight of you, bare in front of him. The soft curves of your chest stir something deep inside him, and for a moment, he has to hold back from letting his hands act purely on impulse. He swallows hard, trying to keep his cool, even though the urge to touch you is overwhelming.

“They’re perfect,” he says softly, his voice rougher than he intended. He means it. It’s not about size or shape—he just likes seeing you, just like this.

If he's being honest, you’re not what Felix thought he always wanted. But now, with you in front of him, he finds himself thinking that you’re more than enough—perfect, in fact.

He lets himself lose a bit of that self-control, his hand reaching out, grazing your skin before cupping your breast, his gentle yet curious fingers exploring the softness of your chest. They fit perfectly in his tattooed hands, and he feels heat rising in him.

“See? They’re perfect,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin as if to prove the point.

You remain quiet as he touches you, but your eyes go wide, lips parting slightly, and then, unexpectedly, you run your palms over your own breasts, fingers grazing your nipples with a restless, almost nervous motion.

The sight of you touching yourself, so innocently but also with that hidden desire, nearly drives him over the edge. He has to clench his jaw to stop himself from groaning aloud.

"Why are you looking at them like that?" you curiously ask in a shy voice.

“Like what?” he asks, his voice deep and low, almost a growl as he leans in closer, needing to hear you say it.

“Like you want t-to…” You hesitate, stumbling over your words.

“Lick them? Suck them?” he finishes the sentence for you, the words falling from his lips with an intensity that makes you look down at your lap, cheeks heated.

You nod, too shy to say it aloud.

Felix exhales slowly, his restraint hanging by a thread. “Come here!” his voice is rough, almost commanding as he gestures for you to sit on his lap.

Biting your lip, you crawl onto him and sit right on his lap.. You freeze for a moment, probably feeling his hard flesh prodding under you.

"You can ignore that," he tells you, at least for now, but he knows both of you can’t ignore that for long.

Somehow, that thought worries him, and he expected you to sit stiff as a board on his lap, but you immediately settle in close, and when he puts his arm around you, you let out a ragged sigh, instantly melting into him.

Fuck, you're so close, especially that part of you, hanging so close to his mouth. He gulps air and reminds himself to take things slowly. This is about you, not him.

You put your hand under his arm and grasp at his back, your hard nipples grazing his chest in the process, and Felix can’t resist cupping your breasts and rubbing his fingers over them.

Soon, your body softens around him, but his hands grow rough as he touches you, molding you to him as he claims your mouth. The kiss is a savage thing of teeth and tongues, but there’s no hint of protest from you. Instead, you match his roughness for roughness, kissing him back until you run out of breath.

As you come up for air, he covers your nipple with his mouth and sucks hard. He pulls you close so he can do the same with the other one; this time, he has your nipple rolling on his tongue. Oh, he can do it all night, just playing with your soft mounds.

Your fingers make their way through his hair, tugging at it as you arch your back with unconscious demand. It's apparent that you love this, losing your mind over his touches.

Felix lets go of your breast, then drags his lips upward, climbing the column of your throat until they find yours, kissing your mouth with such intensity that it causes you to sharply inhale air.

As he's kissing you, his hands refuse to remain idle. He cups your breasts, stroking the buds until they ache and pinches them, sending a burst of sensation straight to your core. With caution, he takes it to the next level, shifting his focus to another sensitive part of you. He's smoothing a hand over your stomach, and he can feel your muscles clench. Cautiously, he slides a hand up your inner thigh.

“I want to touch you here,” he says while gently palming your sex with a bold grasp, and the heat of his touch spreads through the fabric of your panties, searing hot.

Your hand immediately flies to grip his wrist, intending to pull him away, but your hand stays there; if anything, you pull it back and let it rest on his inked forearm.

“Is that permission?” he whispers into your ear.

He sees the conflict in your eyes. He guesses the reason you hesitate is that this is new to you, and you don't know how to handle this side of yourself. After a while, your body wins over your hesitant mind as your hips arch against his hand, asking him to continue, asking him for more.

He pushes your underwear to the side, and as he kisses your neck, his fingers trace your bundle of nerves, circling it, then applying the gentlest of pressure to test whether you like it or not.

A low moan slips out of you, and he can feel you tugging at his hair, hard.

"Do you want me to keep my hand there?" he asks as he looks into your dazed eyes.

You innocently nod.

"All right. I'll do that," he says with a hasty kiss on your lips. He continues by tracing your slick entrance with his fingertips, touching you there lightly, trailing around and around in dizzying circles.

"Does that feel good?" he asks, barely audible.

Still unable to give him a verbal answer, you nod again.

He aims his parted mouth toward your neck and purposely scrapes his teeth against your skin before he licks and kisses you there, causing goosebumps to spread over your skin.

"Will you let me get inside?" he asks for permission as his fingers tease your entrance.

It's obvious that you want it from the way you're arching your hips against his hand, but he doesn't want to risk losing you to the nerves again; he needs to hear you say it this time.

"Yes," you breathlessly say with a small nod.

With your consent given, his fingers search through your folds, coating them with your essence, and he lingers around your entrance for a little while before pushing one finger into you.

He feels your sharp intake of air as your head rests so close to his, your teeth faintly biting your lower lip to muffle the noises you make.

Felix gives you time to adjust before adding another digit. Two fingers are inside you now, pumping them, and he curls them, finding that spot that makes you...

"Oh!" you gasp, your hand grasping at the end of his hair like it gives you a lifeline. Your legs tremble, causing you to lose your balance, and you almost topple back, but Felix is quick to grip your waist to keep you steady.

The whole thing is so cute. Felix rubs his lips to hide a grin as you steady yourself on his lap and fold your hands in your lap. He knows that if he continues, you’d likely fall to the floor. You're the kind of girl who gets weak when you get hot, and don’t get him wrong; he loves that. If anything, it makes every bit of effort it has taken to get past your guard worth it.

"It's better if we lay down," he suggests as he removes the strand of hair caught between your lips.

"Okay," you say, your voice small and filled with obedience.

Once you get off his lap, Felix takes the lead again. He stretches out near the center of the bed, propping himself up on an elbow, and pats the space next to him. No moment of hesitation this time, you crawl across the bed and lay down next to him.

Felix leans over you and kisses you, starting right back at the beginning with innocent brushes of both of your lips and teasing licks before taking your mouth once again. He wouldn't say you're that great of a kisser, but it's entertaining feeling you learn. You may lack in skill, but you make up for it with your eagerness.

He puts your hand on his bare chest, letting you roam free from there; he needs you to feel him too, how his body heats all over from his desire for you. You drag your hand down his chest, fingers trailing the hard ridges of his abs, and then you keep heading down south, meeting the waistband of his jeans.

Felix is unprepared when your hand suddenly goes to his crotch and strokes over the fly of his pants. Pleasure courses through him, and his cock jumps in excitement, a hoarse groan slipping out of his parted mouth.

He remains calm even though you've just awakened a part of him that he wants to keep tamed, for now. He notices the curious hand and then the curious eyes.

"Want to touch it?" he offers, his eyes half shut, heavy with lust.

"Can I?" you ask back instead of answering.

It's about time to set it free anyway; his jeans have been tightening around the crotch for quite some time. He unzips the fly open, then tugs at the waistband of his jeans and pulls it low enough to let his swollen member out of its confines.

Your hand lingers on his abdomen, hesitating to put your hand on the thing you're curious about.

He takes your hand, puts it on his cock, and then makes you close your fingers around it. The sight of your soft, delicate hand wrapped around his cock makes his heart thrumming inside his chest.

"This is my cock," he says, trying to keep his voice calm.

He guides you to stroke your hand on it, pumping it up and down his length, showing you the pace he prefers: slow but steady. "I want you to tell me when you want it."

You swallow air and look down to see that he's no longer guiding you; you're stroking his cock on your own, and he must say, you're doing so good at it.

He returns the favor by reaching down between your legs, touching you there again. His fingers meet your wetness, hot and slippery, tantalizing him.

After a moment, he decides to hover above you, letting go of your lips to start making a trail of kisses down your front. Your chest is heaving as he gets closer to your core, but he does the unexpected by detaching his mouth.

"Do you mind if I take this off?" he asks, fingers tugging at the elastic band of your underwear.

You lick your swollen lips and lowly mutter, "No."

He flashes you a soft smile before doing what he asked. His palm scrapes up the outside of your leg as he pulls your underwear down. You help by lifting your hips to make it easier for him to take it off.

Felix stands at the end of the bed with your underwear in his hand. He lets you watch as he takes a long sniff of it; you smell so heavenly that he wants this smell all over him. But first, he has to make it fair. He takes his jeans off along with his underwear, exposing his naked body in all its glory for you—just for you.

In return, he gets to see all of you, your body wrapped in miles and miles of soft skin. His eyes feast on every part of you, but you cross your thighs together, blocking him from seeing the thing that tantalized him all night.

He runs his tattooed hands down your legs, offering you his warmth and comfort as a way to assure you that he wants nothing but to make you feel good. When he deems you're relaxed enough, he parts your legs open, and his eyes widen as if he sees something that goes beyond what his brain can comprehend.

"You're so wet for me," he says, swallowing air as the sight suddenly makes his throat dry.

Felix satisfies his need by taking a closer look at it, his eyes darkened and fixated on the thing that endlessly tantalizes him. He licks his lips in reaction to the overwhelming urge to taste you.

He uses his thumb to circle your clit, which engorges with every motion. "It wants my mouth so badly," he tells you, his eyes dark and heavy with lust.

Felix presses his cheek to your inner thigh and, ever so softly, places a long kiss on the skin. It's close to where he wants to be but not enough. His need grows desperate.

"Put us both out of our misery and let me taste you."

-

Felix is perfect. He stands there like carved stone, but his skin is smooth and hot to the touch, firm but giving, alive. His muscles hunch and shift as he moves, and the dragon tattoo winks at you as he steps out of his pants; the motion alone is so sexy. 

This is Felix in all of his naked glory. He is perfection, even that part of him—gosh, especially that part of him. His erection demands your full attention, hard and veiny, in flawless proportion to the rest of his beautiful body. You have never given a man oral sex before, but your mouth waters at the sight of it. You want it. 

You can’t remember how to breathe as he puts his tattooed hands on you, rubbing them up and down the outside of your legs, making you tingle down there. You see how he quietly inhales air before parting your legs open and lets all the air out of his mouth as he shifts his eyes to see what's between your legs. 

It's the most private part of you, and you expect him to see it in disgust, but the way he looks at it... you see nothing but pure admiration. He puts his focus there, needing more time to process what he's seeing. 

"You're so wet for me," he says, barely audible as he holds his breath. 

He bends down close to your wet flesh, making your nervousness spike to heart-pounding levels, and his eyes never stray away from what he wants. Then his thumb meets the peak of your sex, gently rubbing it, and you quietly moan under your breath. 

"It wants my mouth so badly," he says, receiving your body's signals too well. 

The little kisses he places on your inner thighs feel soft, but you can see that it's not quite what he wants; he's so close to it, yet he handles his self-control really well. 

He closes his eyes for a second, and when he opens them, they immediately find yours. Then he murmurs, "Put us both out of misery and let me taste you." 

It hits you now that he truly wants this, you. He likes what he sees, and his craving for your most private parts is real. It's dirty but highly erotic and exciting. You want to give it to him; you do, but you doubt that the reality will meet his expectations. 

“Will you be disappointed if I don’t like it and I don’t respond like other women?” you ask, feeling a little anxious, thinking that you’re about to ruin the moment. Again. 

“If you don’t like it, then we’ll move on,” he simply says, spreading your legs wider and then landing a gentle, closed-mouth kiss on your clit, catching you off guard. 

Your body stiffens for a second, not expecting that sensuous jolt, and then you relax in the next second. 

"Hate that?" he asks with wistful, downturned eyes. 

"I..." You still can't decide if you like it or not; you need more— 

Felix lands another kiss, followed by a slow tasting of his tongue on it. He hums his approval and covers your sex with his mouth, sucking with slight pressure as his tongue laps over your clit, repeatedly. 

Your mind shuts down; your body slowly goes limp as heat blooms inside you, and your face buries in the blanket as the pleasure intensifies. This feeling is new to you; your body is in a state of shock from the immense sensations, and you feel like you're about to cry when he abruptly stops. 

"You don't like it?" he asks after getting no answer from you. "Let me try it another way..." 

Felix pushes two fingers into you, and your eyes roll to the back as he begins a steady pace, combining it with his tongue flickering over your cunt, and somehow, you can’t stop your hips from rising to meet his thrusts. 

Oh God! You're riding his hand and smothering his face with your wet cunt. You tell yourself to stop, but you can't; you find your hands tangled in his long, bleached-blond hair instead. You're tightening around him, so wet now you can hear the slippery sounds every time he pumps his fingers into you. 

"I'll stop," Felix says as he licks his glistening wet lips, then rubs his tongue over you fast and hard, making you clench helplessly around his fingers. 

"Felix..." you breathlessly call his name. You can't believe how needy you sound—almost pathetic even. 

"One last taste..." Felix says before planting his mouth on you again. He sucks with perfect pressure, his tongue cleverly dragging out the pleasure to keep your release out of reach. He presses a parting kiss to your sex and lifts his head, stopping for real this time. 

"Yeah, you look ready now," he says it so low it's almost like a whisper. 

Truthfully, you've been ready for a while now, and you love the idea of demanding his... cock and him providing it; you just can’t get those words past your lips. 

Apparently, the look on your face tells it all. As he props a hand next to your waist, he looks at you and asks, "Do you want it?" 

You stifle a nod, and you're aware that's not enough to convey how much you want it. 

His hand reaches for the strand of hair covering your face and asks again, "Do you want it now?" 

Want, want, want. You eagerly respond in your head, but you force yourself to remain calm and say, "Yes." 

Felix nods and lands a kiss along your jaw, then drags his lips close to your ear. With a hoarse voice, he whispers, "I'll give it to you." 

His warm, soft yet firm body blankets yours as his lips bombard you with kisses, each kiss peeling away your senses along with your worries and insecurities; you eventually stop thinking altogether. 

"Excuse me for a second," he says with a kiss on your lips, getting off the bed to look for something on the bedroom floor. 

As Felix picks up his jeans from the floor, you watch the muscles on his back bunch and shift as he moves, admiring the twin indentations at the base of his spine. The view is nothing compared to when he turns around, showcasing his ethereal visuals and a godly figure of chiseled abs, not forgetting his cock in a size that demands your attention. 

He gets onto the bed, kneeling and using his teeth to tear through the foil packet to extract the condom. 

"Want to help me with it?" he offers, his eyes sparkling in the dimly lit room. 

You swallow air and say, "Yes." 

Your hands aren't steady, so you and he end up doing it together, and once you’re both done with it, he pulls you close. You shiver at the feel of your skin coming into contact; your nipples graze his chest, and his length burns against your lower belly. You suddenly feel very self-conscious. 

Felix runs his hands up and down your back as he angles his head, trying to catch your gaze but keeps failing. 

“Why won’t you look at me?” 

You look at the hollow in his collarbone and hunch your shoulders forward. "I feel—I feel naked." 

“We’re both naked," he states the obvious with a light smile. 

You don’t know how to explain that you’re not only feeling naked on the outside but also from the inside, and that if he looks into your eyes, he’d see all of you. No one wants to see that. This is supposed to be fun and educational, not soul-baring.

Felix flashes you a smile as he tilts your head by your chin, and you catch a glimpse of tender eyes before you close yours, knowing that he's about to kiss you. 

Soon, his warm lips brush over yours, tasting of him, you, and sex. His hands caress you, gently kneading the flesh of your waist before grabbing you by the thighs and hooking them around him. 

Slowly, he lowers you onto the bed and then covers your body with his. He places sweet little kisses on your jaw, your neck, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, and eventually, your lips. 

“If you don’t like it, if something hurts... I want you to talk to me, okay?" 

As always, you give him a nod before saying the words, "Okay." 

"Okay," he repeats, then sweetly kisses your lips. "Now, can you turn over for me?" 

You obey him, turning over on the bed and lying on your stomach, taking in the sight of the rumpled pillows and wooden headboard. 

"Lift your waist for me, please?" he politely demands, and you do what he asks, lifting your waist off the bed as he slips a pillow underneath. 

It takes you a moment to understand what he's doing. In this position, he chooses not to let him see you, and at the same time, it makes you less self-conscious. 

"Is this better?" he asks as he places a hot kiss on the skin behind your ear. 

"Yes," you say, feeling comfortable already, but you don't think about how you can't see him and what he's going to do to you. 

A low sigh escapes your lips as his rough hand glides down your back and massages the flesh in voluptuous motions. His firm chest brushes against your shoulder blades as he props an arm on the bed next to you. 

You take a deep inhale as his hand reaches between your thighs, his fingers searching through your folds and sinking deep, pumping fresh essence out of you until it drips around them. As if that isn't enough, he teases your clitoris with gentle touches. 

"Felix..." you desperately call his name. 

"You're ready, mmh?" he asks, planting a soft kiss on the nape of your neck. 

Soon, his hard length prods at your entrance and pushes its way inside, painstakingly slow, as if he wants you to feel every inch of that delicious cock stretching you out. 

All this time, you thought sex was repulsive, uncomfortable and painful—something you kept avoiding because your past experiences validated those thoughts—until now. With Felix, you feel nothing but intensifying pleasure even after he is fully sheathed inside you. 

"Oh, you feel too good," he whispers into your ear with a low growl. 

His words make you feel all sorts of things, and you should say something about him too—how good he feels inside you, how he fills you perfectly. You try to speak like he’s asked you to, but all that comes out are gasps and sighs of pleasure. Instead, you try to communicate with your body, spreading your thighs wider for him and trying to match him thrust for thrust. 

His tattooed hand propped against the mattress captures yours, and he interlaces both of your fingers together. 

“Now, it's perfect," he whispers. 

For a timeless moment, you're hovering on the brink until orgasm crashes over you. He knows, but he relentlessly drives into you. You try to meet his thrusts, but you can’t quite match his strength and intensity. 

With your eyes closed, you dare to look over your shoulder, and he immediately captures your mouth, stroking his tongue deep into you. Before the last orgasm has finished, you feel another building. You're clenching hard, the tiny muscles fluttering around his cock. 

With a hoarse groan, Felix surges into you one last time, hard and shallow, sending you both to your highs. He rubs his lips against your jaw and neck, then lowers your shaking body to the bed. He holds you, wrapping his tattooed arms around you and drawing you even closer, holding you like his. 

With your eyes still shut, your fingers trail his forearm, feeling the defined muscle and the smooth skin—a combination that is utterly distracting. His scent, his warmth, and his solidness surround you, slowly lulling you into a dreamless sleep. 

Now, it's perfect, you say in your head.

-

Felix breathes in deeply, letting the warm, comforting scent of your space envelop him as he burrows into the sheets, a happy sigh escaping his lips.

Slowly, he pushes himself up from the bed, and your room looks slightly different basked in the morning sunlight. Like this, he can see the colors of the books on the shelf, the hats and scarves hanging on the bedroom door, and the succulents you keep on your windowsill. Under a different light, your room looks a lot more alive.

It's also illuminating the memories of last night—your shared laughter, the sweet sounds of pleasure that echoed around him, the rustles of the sheets as your naked bodies tangled under the duvet. A rush of warmth fills him at the recollection, but as he looks around, reality settles in: he is in your room, in your apartment, and he shouldn’t overstay his welcome.

Collecting his clothes from the floor, he dresses methodically, and once in a while, he can't help but glance back at the bed where you shared such an intimate night.

Once he's decent, he steps out of the bedroom, finding you right away in the kitchen. Your hair is in a messy bun, glasses perched slightly askew on your nose, and you're dressed in a simple white t-shirt and pajama pants. You are focused on reading something on your phone while quietly eating from a bowl.

“Morning,” he greets, his voice deeper in the morning air, startling you slightly.

“Morning,” you reply, a soft smile lighting up your face.

As he continues buttoning his shirt, he slides onto a vacant stool at the small dining table.

“Orange juice?” you offer, “or do you prefer coffee?”

“Not a coffee person,” he honestly replies, and you immediately pour him a glass of orange juice, your movements easy and familiar.

You turn around to put the carton of juice back into the fridge and come back with a plate of breakfast for him, serving it in front of him.

“I don’t know what you like for breakfast, but this is what I usually cook for my roommate,” you say, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs and toast toward him.

“Wow! Thank you,” he says in utter gratitude.

Felix can’t recall the last time he enjoyed a nice breakfast with the person he had a one-night stand with; usually, he’d be gone before his partner even woke.

He glances toward the door of your roommate’s bedroom, wondering if she's inside.

“The birthday girl isn’t home yet?” he asks as he lifts his fork.

“She’s probably staying over at one of her friends,” you reply, your tone casual, suggesting you are used to this arrangement.

Felix finds it convenient this way. He enjoys the intimacy of just the two of you in the calm of the morning. The presence of another person would only ruin that.

“Is that what you usually have for breakfast?” he asks, peeking into your bowl, which contains slices of fruit, granola, and yogurt.

“Yes,” you answer with a small smile.

“Ah, that explains…” he absentmindedly says, not realizing the implications of his words until you catch his gaze.

“Explain what?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

“Uh... that explains why you’re so smart,” he lies with a casual smile, hoping to brush off any suspicion.

The truth is, your diet explains why you smell and taste so good; the thought makes him bite back a smile, recalling the events of last night.

"Oh..." your reaction is a mix of surprise and gratitude, but he's still unsure if you understand the meaning behind his words. If you do, just know that it's a compliment.

After breakfast, Felix uses your bathroom for a quick wash-up and retrieves his jacket from the sofa. He adjusts his shirt before putting it on, realizing the time has come to leave, even though he wants to stay longer.

With heavy steps, he approaches you as you stand by the door, sensing the moment is drawing to a close.

Your eyes are on him, but your hands are clasped behind your back, your eyes shimmering with a different kind of light than when he first met you. They seem more alive now, filled with warmth.

“I want to thank you for last night,” you say, a smile creeping onto your face as the memory flashes through your head as it does for him.

“No need to thank me,” he replies. He refuses to accept your thanks when you're not the only one gaining something from last night.

“We had fun last night,” he remarks, not fully realizing he is speaking for both of you.

“I mean, I don’t know about you, but I had fun last night,” he corrects himself with an awkward laugh, pressing a hand to the pulse point on his neck out of nervousness.

“I had— I had fun last night,” you shyly remark, looking away for a second to compose yourself before looking back at him, a shy smile still lingering.

“That's good to know,” he replies, catching your shyness as it creeps into his demeanor.

A moment passes in silence as you look at each other. He has so many things to say, but no words are spoken. He can see that you're struggling to fathom your thoughts into words too.

“Felix,” you call in a different tone from the way you called him last night, yet it makes his heart flutter the same.

“Yes?” he answers, his heart beating in anticipation.

You open your mouth, but no words come out, then close it again, thinking hard about whether to say it or not.

“You can talk to me,” he assures you, his hand flying to your elbow and gently holding it.

Taking a deep breath, you finally close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his in a quick, unexpected kiss.

The surprise electrifies him, but the briefness leaves him wanting more. He quickly decides it's best to ask for forgiveness later rather than permission. He cups your jaw and leans in for a proper kiss; eventually, his lips meet yours in a kiss that means so much more than that: it's a tender connection that feels just right.

As much as he likes it, he knows he has to let go eventually. He slowly pulls away, only to see a smile blooming on your face, and his lips reflexively follow suit, smiling back at you.

“I hope that’s okay,” he murmurs, but he knows he's not sorry at all for what he did.

You nod, your smile shy yet genuine. "That’s—”

Suddenly, the door swings open, and Rex stumbles in, making a ruckus with her arrival as the keys jangle in her hand and her shoes drop onto the floor, oblivious to the intimate moment unfolding between you two.

“Oh?” she gasps, stopping in her tracks when she finally notices the two of you. Her eyes glance between you and Felix.

“Oh!!!” she exclaims again when she recognizes Felix as the guy you kissed for a dare last night.

Realizing she's interrupted something private, she hurriedly clutches her purse close to her chest and dashes into her bedroom, shouting, “I’m not here!”

The moment is shattered nonetheless, and Felix knows he can't stay here for as long as he wants, not when your roommate is now present.

“I'd better go,” he says, even though he hasn’t planned anything beyond that.

“Okay,” you say in a way that makes you sound defeated.

“Okay,” Felix repeats, hoping you would say something to extend the moment just a bit longer.

But good things often come to an end. Felix shoves his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a good look at you one last time, imprinting it in the back of his mind.

“It was nice to meet you,” he earnestly says with one hand on the doorknob.

“Me too,” you reply, your smile soft and genuine, lingering in his thoughts even as he steps out of your life.

At least, for now.

-

Here you are again, surrounded by the pulsing energy of the club with Rex and her friends. You’re still the same shy, nerdy girl, yet somehow, you handle the scene better now. It's a familiar chaos, except that tonight, it's harder to ignore Felix’s absence.

Noticing that you're not having fun like everyone else, Rex leans in closer to talk against the loud music playing in the club.

“Are you disappointed that he’s not here?” she asks, her alcohol-tinted breath brushing your ear.

“Why should I be disappointed?” You scoff, trying to mask the truth. But deep down, you are counting every second since you walked in without seeing him.

“You think I didn't know that you’ve been secretly watching the door?" Rex chuckles, almost spitting her drink. "Or the way you get a little excited whenever you spot a blonde guy?"

Guilty as charged. You are caught, but admitting it feels like opening a wound. You tried not to dwell on it, convincing yourself it was just a one-night stand and these feelings... they'll eventually fade, right?

“Don’t worry,” Rex says as she gently squeezes your knee. “He’s probably still on the way.”

“He didn’t even ask for my number, Rex,” you confess, finally voicing the disappointment that has been gnawing at you ever since that day.

“Then fuck him!” she exclaims, fierce as always. “There are plenty of cute guys, and I'm sure we can find one tonight.”

"No, thank you," you flatly reject the offer.

"Why not?" Rex asks, her eyes studying you.

You scoff again, but inside, the truth lingers: you're still hung up on him.

“Because you’ve already drunk too much," you choose to lie instead, taking her drink from her hand.

Suddenly, someone enters the booth, and you recognize him instantly, even with his bleached hair slicked back. Your heart leaps at the sight of Felix. He looks just as perfect as you remember, but doubt creeps in. Does he remember that night as vividly as you do?

He stands across the table, drink in hand, smiling at you, but you manage a polite smile back, not wanting to set yourself up for another disappointment.

“How about a round of ‘Never Have I Ever’?” he suggests out of the blue, his deep voice drawing everyone’s attention.

"Yes, let's do that!" Rex enthusiastically responds while raising her drink higher in front of her.

Felix trails the rim of his glass with his tattooed finger as he thinks of something, and a while later, his eyes fiercely stare at you with a sly smile dancing on his face.

“Never have I ever... made out with a guy in a dark alley, bumped my head on a crate, gotten three stitches, and still proceeded to give him a night he can’t forget?”

A rush of warmth washes over you, either from his eyes that don’t stray away from yours even for a second or the fact that he still remembers everything. You smile nonetheless, feeling the flutter in your chest returning.

Everyone goes silent, glancing around, unsure who might have done that, except for Rex, who squeals next to you like a giddy child.

“I have,” you confidently say, out loud with a proud smile.

You take the drink from Rex’s hand and drink it in one go, wincing at the bitter aftertaste but recovering quickly.

You daringly stare back into his eyes as you take the next turn. “Never have I ever regretted not asking someone for their number?”

“I have,” he replies without missing a beat and downs his shot in one gulp.

Felix places the empty glass on the table, walks over to you, and holds his hand out to you. “Now, I dare you to come with me.”

It isn't a dare when it's exactly what you want; it's a wish come true. You take his inked hand, feeling the warmth radiate from his skin, and let him lead you away from the table and into the night.

In the dark alley where it all started, Felix pulls you close until your bodies collide, wrapping his arms around you. Impatiently, he kisses you hard and deep, full of longing.

The kiss is intoxicating, even better than you remember, and as he steers you away from the crates lining the alley to avoid any mishaps, you softly laugh.

Felix leans his back against the brick wall and holds you close, his face lingering only inches away from yours, breath mingling in the cool night air.

“Let’s avoid visiting the hospital tonight,” he playfully says.

In that dark alley, with the world falling away around you, you realize you don’t want this to ever end. You lean in, capturing his lips once more, and you melt into the kiss, bracing yourself for what you're about to ask and the answer you'll get.

“So, what now?” you ask, your fingers caressing his cheek, tracing the contours of his face.

“We can start by finishing the poem,” he says, a playful glint filling his eyes, reminding you of the lines you have barely gotten through that night.

You grin as the weight of the time you spent worrying about not seeing him again lifts off your shoulders. “Okay, but I think I need a new beginning for this one.”

This time, you know what you want, and what you want is more nights like this, more moments, and more of whatever this is between you and him, and that’s the only dare you're doing tonight: to find out what that is.

-

“(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.”

-

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[crypticminx]

hello! could I request Felix and reader leaving together at an Oxford party and their night? THANK YOU<3 could be smut or fluff whatever you prefer

Hello lovely!! Here you go!!! Hope you enjoy xx 🩷

AN: smutttt, Dom!felix, small breeding kink, daddy kink and little bit of flufff <3 P in V, unprotected sex xoxo

Oxford parties.

Drunk people scattered around like zombies, making complete utter fools of themselves on the dance floor as loud hip music blared through the drums of each speaker. Copious amounts of strong liquor was always passed around and one could only hope they didn't get sick from sharing the mouth stained bottles.

Trashy to say the least—but classy in each partygoers pumped heart.

Felix Catton was known for always being in attendance at such parties and stemmed to be the heart throbbing crowd pleaser—that is for all the enraged horny females.

Practically throwing their limp, alcohol filled bodies at him, Felix wasn’t known to be a rejecting heartbreaker, but curiosity always got the best of him, leaving himself to never turn down a good night. Even if that meant following those girls back to their messy dorms.

However, All good things must come to an end, and what—or for a better word, who was finally good for Felix was none other than the most gorgeous girl on campus: Y/N Y/L.

Cuffed, taken, bagged; Felix could proudly admit for once, with a cheery smile, that he was in an amazing relationship.

So when Y/N and Felix started to arrive at every annual party, dashing hand in hand, they received the usual jealous stares from snotty singles and the more pleased ones from their tight knit group of friends.

This night was no different from the same, besides the new arcade fire song that was blasting on repeat. Although parties were a fun festivity to end off a tiresome week of studies, Y/N didn’t find the vibe as enjoyable as previous events.

Standing in the corner holding a red solo cup that was filled with more juice than vodka, Y/N kept to herself for the most part and only encouraged herself to drink by taking a few ditzy shots with Oliver while her beloved Felix was challenged to a silly game of beer pong.

Typical, she thought

Gulping the rest of her drink, Y/N tried her best to look for Felix and while she did so, she gave herself the time to elaborate a good excuse on why they should ditch the party.

The atmosphere was sweaty, humid, and a small stench of some lightweights nasty vomit sprouted it’s aroma from the bathroom. If that wasn’t a good wake up call, what was?

Lost in the haze of people who were doing some new stupid dance trend, Y/N groaned as she felt herself bumping into someone. Nearly spilling her drink, she managed to stop herself before becoming the embarrassment of the night.

She was too full of mental exhaustion—rather more frustrated to even look at up at the soul she collided into.

“Hey,” she knew that voice anywhere and instantly felt relief.

“Jeez fel,” she called him by his proufound nickname she granted him when they first started dating, “I’ve been looking for you like a mad man!”

He chuckled and wrapped a lose arm around her shoulder. Y/N’s eyes fluttered with awe as he did just so and she quickly wondered how in the midst of the grossness around them, Felix could still manage to look so perfect.

Ugh, just a quick glance at her man and she could feel herself growing internally hungry.

Dressed in a loose throw over that appeared to have not a single alcohol stain and his hair—heavens his hair, not one strand of his neat chestnut locks was out of place. He always kept his composure, at least that was one thing different about him and his inseparable sister, Venetia.

“So, ‘m thinking,” he began as he pulled Y/N closer into his chest, the smell of his lovely cologne filling her nose with its radiant clove scent.

“Oh, so you managed to actually use your brain tonight?” Y/N interrupted him, earning a swift tap on her button nose as he goofishly grinned at her.

“Quiet you,” he cooed before leaning closer to her frame, “wanna get out of here?

Her eyes widened in delight as she felt Felix slyly move his needy hands down to the hem of her plaid skirt. A slight clench of his hands that grabbed her bottom made her want to run as fast and far away into privacy with her loving man.

“I thought you’d never ask, love,” grinning like her face had no end, Felix offered his girlfriend his hand as they were about to politely escort themselves out of the way and into the young night.

That was until-

“Oi,” a voice chirped from behind them, causing the couple to swing back as a natural reaction, “and just where do you think you two lovebirds are going?” Oliver entered his way into the picture, something he managed to always do.

“Ollie,” Felix deviously beamed, “I have things to do.”

Felix could be such a smug little asshole.

“More like a special someone to do,” Oliver winked and lifted his cup in Y/N direction, earning an annoyed look of disapproval.

Oliver was just as much as an asshole, but that’s why him and Felix hit it so well.

“Catch you in a bit,” it was more of a statement as opposed to a question, but Oliver knew what the couple was up to.

Oliver knew better than to ever insult Y/N, but the more time Felix included her in things, she developed a strong bond with his pals, but Oliver had slithered his way with getting to know her the most.

He was welcoming, kind and graciously humble, unlike some of the many pricks that marked their way in Oxford, not caring who they belittled or how they did it.

“Whatever you say Mrs. Catton,” she playfully flipped Oliver off as he shook his head with a small chuckle, turning his back away from Y/N and Felix and into the crowd of people.

——————————————————-

“Felix!” Y/N giggled before she fell to the ground, laughing all the way down as she felt long, uncomfortable pieces of grass embrace her body. It was almost a tickling sensation.

“Shhhh,” Felix cupped his hand over her lipstick stained mouth, feeling her warm breath on his palm as it seemed nearly impossible for her to stop herself, “I don’t want to cause a scene my darling.”

With all her might, she moved Felix’s hand away from her face and contently sighed, “oh, but you always do, my love.”

“Feisty now?” He cocked an eyebrow down to where she layed like an angel in the field, waiting for him to avenge her with his sweet love.

“For you, always.”

“Then let’s stop wasting time,” he groaned, feeling his cock twitch at the thought of getting to put it in his sweet girl, tension rising within him to get the job done right, but to also make it lasting and worthwhile.

There was nothing more he loved than making her release herself in waves of pure ecstasy that came with her angelic moans of delight.

Throwing his shirt off somewhere in a small bush behind him, his graceful fingers took absolutely no time in undoing Y/N’s silk, button down and uncuffing her bra.

He was marveled at the sight before him and without any hesitation, he leaned down and began to mark her smooth skin with aggressive kisses that were filled with passion.

Y/N being half naked and about to do it in a forest; it seemed like something from a cheesy movie.

Doing the deed at a house party was cliche and reminded Felix of his past more than he liked to remember and doing it on one of the various campus balconies was adventurous—but a total letdown once it started to rain over Felix and Y/N.

However, now felt like the right time.

“Love,” Y/N gently spoke in between long kisses from Felix, “are you gonna take off my skirt?”

Y/N startled in place as Felix almost ripped off all of her bottoms, fearing he had broke one her favourite skirts he had purchased for her.

Fully naked, Y/N felt an immediate sensation of heat rush over her body and instantly forgot about all the outdoor surroundings as Felix yanked off his belt and threw away his jeans and boxers into mid air.

It was just her, Felix, and all the nights starry glory that was upon them.

“Fuck,” he moaned as he hands fondled her breasts, hard nipples graced the tips of his palms, “you’re beautiful.”

It might’ve been too dark for Felix to see it, but Y/N still managed to blush every time he complimented her—which was practically every heartfelt second they spent together .

“Fel,” she started to beg, “I need you.”

He eagerly placed himself back on top of her, leaving his hard cock to graze the outside of her already soaked cunt. In any regular situation, he would’ve been thrusting with all his might, but tonight he was feeling different.

“Not until you say my name, darling,” he demanded.

“Please daddy.” Y/N squeaked, panting for him to enter himself inside of her.

“That’s my good girl,” he smirked in delight, pushing himself with ease as his rock solid cock glided into Y/N.

“Mmm,” she tried to fight back a moan, but it was no use. She needed him more than ever.

She felt her legs twitch as they melted into bliss as Felix steadily did what he does best; fucking her.

“Baby,” he groaned as he maneuvered himself to grab her soft hair as he dove into her neck for more kisses, “you always get so damn wet for me.”

Y/N moved closer to his frame as his hands tugged her head to his face, his cock continuing to puncture her in all the right ways.

He violated her mouth as his tongue swirled in fast pace with hers, Y/N having to breakaway from his kiss just to catch her breath.

“Oh Felix—daddy,” she bit her lip, feeling himself plunge harder into her as she mistakenly called him by his name, “I want to cum.”

“Not yet darling, let me feel you more.”

Y/N toes curled as he let out a loud groan of pleasure, looking down at her flushed face, he was so proud to call her his girl.

“Mmm sweetheart,” he panted in between breaths, “aren’t you tired of Oxford.”

Oxford? Why the hell was be going on about school during intercourse?

“N-Not really,” she squeaked in response.

“Well baby,” he lingered his way back to her face, planting sloppy kisses as he felt her nails scratch deep into his lean back, “when can I take you out of here and make you my pretty little wife?

Y/N hummed in response, closing her eyes as they relaxed into bliss, “you plan on knocking me up too, yeah?”

Felix couldn’t tell if she was being serious—what is said during sex is not always reality, but just the mild thought of him getting the chance to plant his seed in his beloved made him turn ravenous.

He would do anything for Y/N, but if he could keep her away from any thirsty Oxford boys and make her his wife and potential mother of his children, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“Jesus,” he croaked, already feeling himself starting to lose his pace due to his cock becoming seconds away from releasing into her. “You have no idea, my baby.”

“Daddy—“ Y/N shouted through the bushes of the forest garden, “come with me.”

And like the perfect scene from a porno film, the couple came in unison, wordlessly twinkling at each other with a strong glimmer of love in each one of their eyes.

Y/N let herself be free and rolled her head back, enjoying the climax of her orgasm, feeling more than satisfied with Felix’s overwhelming stimulation of an erotic performance.

She sighed, “I love you.”

Felix, already trying to find her clothes so she wouldn’t freeze in the cool night. “I’m serious, y’know.”

“About marriage or…”

“All of it, my darling,” he gently patted Y/N’s head of messy hair due to their rough embrace.

“But right now?” Y/N sounded hesitant, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t up for it.

“Whenever,” he sat down to her side, passing her ruffled clothing, before leaning to kiss her gracefully on the cheek. “I’d wait an entire lifetime for you, angel.”

Y/N knew the time wasn’t right, they had their whole lives ahead of them, but then again, she could always stop taking her birth control and see what fate would have in store for them.

Though—for now at least, she felt at ease and more than happy to have another memorable shared night with her lover.

[ncityprincess]

The one before the big ‘three-oh’

Minors do not interact

Happy 29th Birthday to the boyfriend of all boyfriends, the one and only Mr. Johnny Suh🫦🎂

“Man, tonight was crazy fun y/n! Thank you so much, really. How did you score box seats to the Bulls vs the Lakers babe?!” your giddy fiancé exclaimed, high off of the evening’s events. You had just gotten back from the basketball game you surprised Johnny with for his birthday. The tickets cost a pretty penny, but it was worth it. Johnny made all other 364 days of the year magical for you. He deserved a special experience for his big day. It was the least you could do.

Johnny turned on the lights in the house as you took your heels off and set them aside. “Oh don’t worry about it baby. I’m just happy you had a fun birthday. How does it feel being 29, big guy?” The two of you migrated into the kitchen, your typical hang out spot in the house. You loved your little life you’d built with Johnny. From having to share a slice of pizza in your college days, to now being full grown adults and making a comfortable life for yourselves, it was these little moments you looked forward to in life. Making memories with the love of your life made you feel warm inside.

Johnny grabbed two water bottles and handed you one, opening it for you. “You know, normally I’d say I feel the same as any other age, but this year I truly do feel every bit of 29. I guess… it just feels like a serious number because it’s the last one before the big ‘three-oh’, ya know?” Johnny walked up to the barstool you were sitting on and stood in between your legs, cupping your dolled up face. You gave him a tiny, empathetic smile and caressed his large hands.

“You’re gonna be as sexy as ever once you hit those 30’s…just saying” you joked, hoping to soothe his thoughts a little. Johnny tossed his head back and snorted, “wow, thanks babe.”

You giggled along with him, rubbing your hands up and down his broad back. “You’re blossoming into such an amazing man, John. Seriously. I fall more in love with you each day, and it’s an honor that I get to do life with you. I love you so much honey.” Johnny couldn’t hide the blush creeping up on his face even if he wanted to. Of course, always the man of action rather than words, Johnny bent down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. The action said more to you than any sweet words could.

After the kiss slowed, you pulled away from him and ran your hand across the front of his thigh. Maybe there were a few more birthday festivities you had planned for your man…

“Why don’t you uh, get us some wine and meet me back in the bedroom in a few, big boy.” You shot him some flirty bedroom eyes, something you knew he couldn’t resist. Johnny gave you a knowing smile and backed away from you slowly, holding a hand out to help you down from the barstool. He pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles, and you walked out of the kitchen with a little extra sway in your hips, feeling Johnny’s lingering gaze on your ass.

After giving you what felt like enough time to plan whatever you were conjuring up in that pretty head of yours, Johnny walked into your shared bedroom with two wine glasses in hand, just like you’d asked. He noticed that the lighting was slightly moodier than normal, and took note of the sexy playlist that added to the ambiance in the room. You walked out of the en-suite bathroom wearing nothing but a crimson red silk robe, and a pair of black stilettos.

“Oh well well well, what do we have here baby?” Johnny said as he took in your sexy little look. He gently placed the wine glasses down on the dresser, never taking his eyes off of you. You flipped your hair, the drinks from tonight and the desire to please your man for his special day heightening your confidence. “Hmm, well I guess you can call this your other birthday present, baby.”

“Oh? You mean, it gets better than box seats at the Bulls vs the Lakers?” Johnny flirted. “Why don’t you come unwrap it and find out, daddy.” With that, Johnny all but charged at you and kissed you passionately. You let out a sensual moan, running your hands all over his broad body. After a few moments of making out, you pressed your hands against his chest and pushed him back slightly. “You know what daddy? You’re always working so hard for me. Why don’t you go sit down in the chair? Let me take care of you.” Johnny was hooked under your spell. He would do just about anything for you right now. You guided him toward the chair in front of your bed, and he subconsciously followed.

He looked up at you, mesmerized as you started to put on a little show for him, rubbing your hands all over your body. Your fingers kept dancing toward the rope holding your robe together, but you wanted to drag it out a little more. As if it were right on cue, a particular birthday song popped up on shuffle. The familiar intro played throughout the room, but once the first verse started, the air in the room got a little lighter.

“Wow, very on the nose babe” Johnny snickered. You cracked a smile, giggling at the incredibly literal lyrics of the song. Birthday Sex by Jeremih seemed like an appropriate addition to Johnny’s birthday playlist you had curated beforehand, but in hindsight it did seem a little cheesy. You playfully slapped his arm, slightly embarrassed but also grateful that you two were close enough to be able to share a laugh in intimate situations like this. Yet another reason why you loved Johnny so much. “Shut up!! It seemed like a good song to include at the time. Just sit back and watch, big boy” you scolded lightheartedly.

Johnny held his hands up in retreat, signaling that he was done with the jokes and ready to focus on you. Your hips found the rhythm, and swayed along to the beat. After a few moments, Johnny was hypnotized by your seductive movements. He admired how sexy and confident you were, loving how you moved your body. How did he get lucky to have such a beautiful woman like you?

Johnny’s upper body bent towards you as your fingers inched closer and closer to the tie holding your robe together. You gave him a sexy smile, and played with him a bit. “Aw, you wanna see what’s underneath, don’t ya big guy?” Johnny frantically nodded, licking his plump lips in anticipation. You finally undid the robe, letting it fall to the floor at your heeled feet. There you were, standing stark naked in front of your fiancé. A wave of confidence flowed through your body.

You turned around and bent over slightly, giving Johnny a nice view of your glistening pussy. Johnny let out a soft “fuck”, much to your amusement. You walked back over, stopping right in front of Johnny. His hands automatically moved to your bare ass, rubbing it in appreciation. He looked up at you as if you were the only woman in the world, and it made you feel you alive.

As much as he loved your little peep show, his dick was going to bust through his pants at any second now. Without warning, Johnny stood up and pushed you back onto the bed, shoving his dress pants off and towering over you. You looked up at him dumbfounded, still amazed by the fact that he could manhandle you at any given second. “Babe—baby I’m supposed to be on top of you. It’s your night remember!” You pleaded. Surely he deserved to be the one serviced tonight.

“Shhh, you’ve done enough for me sweetheart. Just need be inside that sweet pussy now. Is that okay, baby?” Johnny looked down at you like the big bad wolf, ready to eat you whole at any moment. How could you resist an offer like that? “Yes daddy. Want you deep inside.”

With that, Johnny rubbed his leaking tip a few times and slowly sank into your dripping pussy. You both moaned in unison, relishing in the closeness of the position. Johnny gathered your thighs on his biceps and placed them around his waist. You locked your ankles in place, bracing yourself in preparation. He built up a strong, quick pace that had you moaning like a whore. “Fuckkkk John you’re so deep baby” you moaned out, wrapping your arms around his neck. Johnny sucked on your earlobe as he pistoned roughly into you.

He was grateful in moments like this to live in a house with just you two in it. Gone were the days of having to tip toe around neighbors and roommates and figure out sneaky ways to pummel your sweet little pussy. He didn’t have to share thin walls with anyone. He could pound into your hole without a care in the world. This is true adulthood, Johnny thought to himself.

Your whiney mewls brought him back to reality, and he turned his head to look down at your gorgeous, fucked out face. Your eyebrows were stitched together, looking up at him with large doe eyes. He loved when you got like this. “Feel good baby? You’re making me feel real good. Yeah that’s it, just lay back and take it.”

You threw your head back in ecstasy, digging your manicured nails into his shoulders. “Ooh daddy I’m so close.” Johnny snuck a hand down to your sex, and rubbed soft circles into your clit. He knew how much you loved a little extra stimulation when you were close to cumming. A couple more thrusts and you were creaming all over his thick cock. Johnny let out a long, deep groan and soon after, you felt warm spurts of cum deep inside you. Johnny thrusted a few more times before he completely stilled with a satisfied groan.

“Fuck baby, this has to be the best birthday I’ve ever had” Johnny said sincerely, playing with some loose strands of your hair. You giggled, still slightly out of breath. “Aw, honey. There’s plenty more where that came from.” You pressed a soft kiss to his nose, and Johnny smiled mischievously.

“I hope you’re not just talking about birthdays, my love.” And with that, Johnny rolled you onto your stomach for a celebratory round 2.

The end 🎂

[justnatoka]

Wild creatures

Paul x Fem! Reader

A/n: This was so therapeutic to write, you have no idea. I adore this man so much! Fun fact: the idea for this fic came to me as I was dancing around in my kitchen, drinking wine, listening to Red Wine Supernova by Chapell Roan for the first time.

Word count: 4.6k

Warning: canon typical violence, blood, one douchebag who can't take no for an answer, mention of weed use, nsfw themes (minors dni!), light smut (nothing too explicit), skinny dipping, lots of fluff, LOTS of sexual tension lol

Prompt: "All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes."

You and your boyfriend have a wild night out on the boardwalk.

The first thing your brain registered was soft breathing against the back of your neck, then the arm wrapped tight around your waist, holding you close, your back pressed against a solid chest. As your eyes fluttered open, you took in the darkness of the cave, your gaze sweeping over the colorful mess of pillows, blankets and different fabrics draped all over the little nook your boyfriend affectionately called your nest. He took to sleeping here with you after you joined the pack, saying he didn’t want to be apart from you for even one night. Not that you were complaining.

Speaking of Paul, his arm squeezed you in his sleep, a soft snore escaping him. You smiled to yourself as you slowly wiggled your way around to face him. You discovered a slight frown on his handsome features, his hand gripping your waist tighter, and you wondered what he was dreaming about. Inching closer, you laid a gentle kiss right between his eyebrows, and his features smoothed out instantly, his grip loosening but not letting go, never letting go. He brought you closer, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck and breathing in your sweet scent. He draped his leg over yours, tangling them together and clinging to you like a koala. Damn, you loved this man.

You loved his loud and silly personality, the constant flirting, his need to always be near you, always touching you, even if it meant just linking your pinkies together. You loved all the little ways he showed you affection, like bringing you small gifts: a shiny rock or a pretty shell he found on the beach, a plushie he won at a game stall on the boardwalk, a pin for your growing collection covering your jacket. The same jacket the boys got you as a welcome present when you joined the gang, and one you adored with all your heart. You loved how expressive he was, his face lighting up every time he saw you, smiling bright when you were happy, but also crying with you when you weren’t. You enjoyed every moment you spent with him, be it annoying Marko, making out in public while ignoring the loud teasing of his brothers or getting high at the cave and blasting songs of his favorite bands on the boombox, playing on imaginary guitars, headbanging together and giggling when you got dizzy. But it was quiet moments like this one when you really had the time to think about and appreciate the life you had with him. Feeling warm and content, you sank deeper into his embrace.

Your peace was interrupted however, as you heard the others starting to wake up further in the cave. You were reluctant to disrupt Paul’s sleep, but you knew if you didn’t move, one of the boys would soon come looking for you. Marko in particular really enjoyed barging in and throwing pillows at you to wake you up. This earned him a few shots back every time, and he was even chased out by Paul before, not like it had any effect. You really weren’t in the mood for that whole chaos now, so you took matters into your own hands.

You started peppering kisses on the top of his head and softly calling his name. When it didn’t have any effect, you decided to go for his weak spot and started lightly scratching your nails along his neck. He let out a muffled groan and you had to bite your lower lip not to do the same. Your hands worked their way along his back, dipping under his shirt at his waist and gently stroking his skin, making him press his hips against your thigh with a needy whine. Warmth started pooling in your lower region, and if the hardness against your thigh was anything to go by, he must have felt good too. You knew he was awake at this point, felt him smiling against your skin, but pretended in the hopes that you continue with your touching. So you moved your hands lower and squeezed his ass.

“God, babe, don’t stop.”

You chuckled at his sleepy voice and pressed another kiss against his temple.

“I’m not sure the others would appreciate if we made them wait. Marko might appear in the door.”

“I want to see him try.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will.”

With another groan he finally lifted his head, resting his chin against your chest, his hair a tousled mess which you affectionately patted down. You looked into his brilliant blue eyes, and your heart swelled.

“Morning, handsome,” you whispered.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered back with a dopey grin on his face. He loved it when you used pet names for him. He leaned in to lay soft kisses against your lips, each one getting longer and hungrier. Just to make you remember his predicament, he grinded his hips into yours again, causing you to moan into his mouth. He used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his hands exploring your curves.

“Hey, lovebirds! We can hear you making out all the way over here! Get up already, don’t make me go in there!” Marko’s voice broke the moment, and you let out a frustrated groan, now just as fired up as Paul.

“Marko, if you don’t shut the hell up, I’ll beat your ass!” you yelled back, and you heard David and Dwayne laugh, all of them knowing full well that you would try.

“My hero,” Paul chuckled and pressed one long kiss against your lips before finally getting up from the bed. While you put on your clothes, the heated glances he sent you held the promise that you’ll continue what you started later.

You made your way out to the others who were already waiting by the bikes, ready to go. Marko sent you two a cheeky grin, which earned him a not so serious glare from you. David and Dwayne just shared a knowing look. Getting up behind Paul, you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing tight as you took off.

Riding with them was always exhilarating, and you didn’t hold back your screams of excitement, squeezing your arms around him tighter when you heard your boyfriend’s high pitched laughter. You sometimes wondered if you sounded like a pack of wolves with all the howling as you crossed the woods.

Bursting out from between the trees to the beach, your field of vision was filled with the familiar picture of the busy boardwalk with its bright lights and bustling noise. Your skin was practically buzzing with energy. It was a place full of potential for people looking for a fun time, and that’s exactly what you were, even if your definition of ‘fun’ was a bit different in some aspects.

You parked near the entrance, your arrival bringing a lot of attention. You were used to strangers ogling at you, you couldn’t really blame them. Your group was certainly a sight to behold, their loud bikes and good looks were a magnet to the eyes. After getting off from behind Paul, you slowly stretched out your muscles, the movement accentuating your figure, making your shirt ride up to show a bit of skin, then casually threw your hair over your shoulder. The effect was instantaneous, as you felt multiple eyes on you all at once, and when you lazily surveyed the surrounding crowd, you noticed a good few heads suddenly turning the other way.

You felt Paul’s arm sneaking around your shoulder, yours encircling his waist on instinct.

“I thought showing you off was my job,” he smirked at you.

“I can’t help it that I’m this good-looking,” you joked. “Besides, I want to show you off too,” you pecked his cheek, giggling when he leaned in for more.

Someone cleared their throat, and you turned to the boys who were all waiting for you, again. David raised one eyebrow with an amused smile playing on his lips.

“Sorry boys, but this is where we separate from you for tonight,” you stated, their expression turning from light confusion to teasing smiles in a second.

“Why? Tired of us already?”

“You, Marko? Always.”

He played the wounded soul quite convincingly until the corner of his lips started curling upwards.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” the leader spoke up next.

“What, you don’t trust us, David?” you asked cheekily.

“Why would I?” he smirked.

“Okay, fair point.”

He snorted before turning to saunter away into the crowd.

“Have fun,” Dwayne added with a smile and a wink.

“Thanks, Dwayne.” Then he too joined the others.

Now that it was just the two of you, you looked up at Paul.

“What do you wanna do first?”

He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a joint.

“Let’s start with the appetizer.”

You threw yourselves headfirst into fun; getting onto several rides and screaming your lungs out, then having a heavy makeout session on the Ferris wheel, which resulted in the attendant kicking you out because you were too distracted with each other to notice the ride was over. After eating yourselves full of sweets, and urged on by the sugar high, you proceeded to visit all of the game stalls, trying to beat each other at shooting games and both failing miserably cause you made each other laugh too much, both of you giggling like stupid teenagers. Paul made it his mission to win you a purple teddy bear he saw at one of the stalls, and was heartbroken when he didn’t get it. He pouted all the way to the food vendors, grumbling about how it was rigged for sure.

It was after you both got yourselves some soft drinks when someone tapped you on the shoulder, interrupting the nice time you had going. Turning around, you came face to chest with a guy wearing an obnoxiously open shirt. Now, you didn’t mind it with Dwayne, but this guy’s whole vibe screamed douchebag. Starting with the sunglasses he pushed to the top of his head so he can check you out more openly. Who the heck wears sunglasses at night?

“Hi,” he flashed you a smile that made your skin crawl.

“Uh, hi,” you replied, you tone already less than enthused.

“Can I get you a real drink?” he motioned to your soda.

“No thanks, I’m not interested.”

You moved to turn away, but he grabbed your shoulder this time. Oh hell no. You shot him your nastiest glare, then tore his hand off you, stepping back to put some distance between you two.

“Come on now, don’t be like that,” Sunglasses smirked down at you, trying to keep his composure, but you were having none of it.

“Like I said, I’m not interested,” you answered, emphasizing each word and making a big show of grabbing Paul’s hand.

Sunglasses didn’t take kindly to that, and he turned his growing irritation toward your boyfriend, who he seemingly barely noticed until now.

“You’re seriously into that? You sure have some questionable tastes in men,” he scoffed.

“Dude, chill out, she said no. So why don’t you just fuck off?” Paul decided to finally speak up after just observing the situation. He knew you could take care of yourself, but it seemed like this was slowly getting out of hand, and he just wanted this douche gone.

“Don’t you tell me what to do, freak. I can do whatever the hell I want. And if I want a piece of that,” he jerked his head towards you like you were a piece of meat, “than that’s what I’m gonna get.”

That’s it. Paul could take insults directed at him, but he would sure as hell not take him talking about his girl like that. If this absolute dick wanted to get up all in his face, he wasn’t one to back down. They were ready to throw hands, when both of them froze. Eyes going comically wide, they stared in unison at the big, sticky wet patches forming on the guy’s shirt, the liquid trickling down the side of his head and neck slowly soaking his clothes. Sunglasses turned around, and that’s when Paul spotted you behind his back, your empty glass still in your hand.

You looked up at Sunglasses with big sheepish eyes.

“Oops, I guess my hand slipped.”

Paul burst out laughing. The guy was so dumbfounded he was rendered speechless for a long second, like his brain couldn’t fathom that someone would humiliate him like this. Because people around you were already looking and pointing. But when it did register to him, his face turned to a shade of red you haven’t seen before. He looked like a big angry tomato pumped full of steroids. You finally cracked up, and you cackled as you dodged the arm he swung at you, easily dancing out of his way. You grabbed Paul’s hand and the two of you took off running, the sound of the guy’s loud cursing quickly drowned out by the noise of the crowd.

When you were sure you got far enough, you slowed your pace to an easy stroll. With the laughter barely dying off your lips, you pressed a sloppy kiss on Paul’s cheek.

“My hero,” you giggled.

“Always, babe,” he stated with a happy little smile.

Pushing the incident to the back of your mind, you were determined to have fun, and not let it hinder your mood. So the two of you threw yourselves back into the night.

Somehow you ended up at the stage, surrounded by warm bodies, all bopping and swaying and jumping together to the rhythm. You let yourself completely loose, let the wave of the music and the movement of the crowd around you take you to wherever it wanted, washing away every problem, every little annoyance. It was phenomenal, and you felt your spirit soar high above you with the ocean wind.

A familiar hand wrapped around your own, bringing you back to the ground, and your eyes locked with the most brilliant pair of blue you’ve ever seen, the color and all of its variations already seared into your mind. Right now, they were shining bright, the lights of the stage bringing a playful glint to them that you adored. Your gaze fell to his lips, causing a wide grin to spread across them. The next time you looked up, his eyes were a darker shade, and he was standing a lot closer to you than you realized, the two of you practically pushed together by the people around you, still moving, still dancing.

You don’t know who moved first, but in the next second you were tangled together, hands roaming planes and curves of bodies, fingers coursing through hair, lips hungry against each other. It felt like the beat of the music was running through your veins, reigniting your long dead hearts and willing it to beat again. It was electrifying and intense. That’s just how your love worked. Sometimes it was silly, sometimes it was passionate, but it was always all consuming. You completely gave yourselves to each other, body, soul and all, for as long as you were on this earth. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You were reluctant to come back to reality, too high off the intensity of the moment to stop, but knowing if you didn’t stop soon, you would commit public indecency. Paul groaned when you finally drew back from him, his lips puffy and his eyes pleading.

“Not here and not now, pretty boy,” you purred against his mouth. He almost started pouting, so you winked at him and threw in a middle ground. “How about you take me out to dinner first? Then you can devour me all you want.”

He seemed pleased with that solution, almost too eager to go.

You barely left the proximity of the stage, Paul’s arm casually thrown around your shoulder, yours around his waist, leisurely strolling away, when you heard a shout from behind you.

“There they are!”

You turned your heads at the same time, and spotted the guy from before. He also brought two friends. They were still further away, but rapidly closing the distance, pushing people out of their way, trying to get to you quicker. You exchanged looks.

“Uh-oh,” you blurted out.

A mischievous grin stretched across Paul’s face.

“You said something about dinner?”

Catching on to what he was implying, you burst out in giggles and grabbed his hand before you both took off running. The yelling and fast stomping from behind you was enough indication that they were indeed in hot pursuit. You weaved in between vendors, dodging people left and right, almost colliding a few times, but never letting go of each other. Indignant yelps sounded behind you as you bumped into people, and curses were thrown at you when you pushed stuff into your chasers way. All around chaos was left in your wake, and you already heard Max’s lecture in your head that you would surely receive when he caught wind of this. Laughter bubbled up your throats from the adrenaline rush and you cackled as you turned towards the beach, all the way down the stair, you laughed and howled like hyenas as your feet hit the sand. A quick glance over your shoulder confirmed that they were not far behind. A small squeeze on your hand made you look over at Paul. He had the widest grin on his face, hair messy and wind-blown, his whole body practically radiating, and when he turned to you, eyes shining bright, his hand tightly wrapped around your own, your heart swelled with joy. Surely, this is what real freedom felt like.

You didn’t stop until you reached the underside of the pier and disappeared between the wooden beams. It wasn’t long until your pursuers caught up. Not seeing you at first, they ventured deeper into the darkness.

“There’s no point in hiding, you little bitch! We’re going to find you and your bitch of a boyfriend and then you’ll be sorry for humiliating me like that!” Sunglasses yelled, puffing out his chest, trying to sound all intimidating.

“Who said I’m trying to hide?” you appeared before them, simply walking out of the shadows.

Your confidence and casual tone seemed to unnerve them. The two goons were shifting anxiously, glancing around for Paul. They were ready to get this fight over with and get out of here. Sunglasses, however, took a step towards you, oblivious to the shift in the air around him.

“You got some nerve, girl, I’ll give you that,” he scoffed, running his tongue along his lower lip. “But you’re a bit too bossy for my taste. Maybe if I took you for a few rounds you would learn your place.”

Your face hardened, eyes becoming impossibly darker, before a predatory smirk slowly stretched across your face.

“You know why we brought you here?” you asked lowly, gesturing around you in a slow motion.

Sunglasses was visibly confused, but the bobbing of his Adam’s apple let you know he finally seemed to realize that something was wrong. You raised up one finger, pointing at the pier above you, the hustle and bustle of the people above audible even down here.

“Because right here no one will hear your screams.” Your voice sounded like ice, and the terror on their faces as you started to change right in front of them only fueled your hunger.  “And for the record, I’m the only one who can call Paulie my bitch. Isn’t that right, babe?”

Their eyes followed your gaze behind their backs, where Paul seemed to materialize out of thin air, his irises glowing yellow from his monstrous face.

“Damn right, dollface.”

They didn’t even have time to react before you descended upon them. And just as you said, their shrieking was drowned out by the screams coming from the roller coaster above. There was no escape, you were too fast, dragging them back into the shadows, fangs tearing into skin, gulping down their warm blood and relishing its taste. You made quick work on the three men, and watching the life drain from their trashing bodies gave you a sick satisfaction. You licked your lips the same way he did when you were finished with them.

You looked up at Paul, chest heaving, with rivulets of blood still running down your face and neck, smearing around your lips, painting them red. He looked no different, with crimson specks stuck in his hair, already back in his human form, but eyes still containing remnants of yellow.

When his gaze met yours, a flirty little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Look at you, pretty girl! All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes.”

You flashed him your most charming smile in response. You both burst out in chuckles, giggling to yourselves like schoolgirls as if you didn’t just tear three men apart. The next time you locked eyes, something shifted between you, and you felt a tug in your stomach. You needed to close the distance between you, and if the hasty steps he took towards you was anything to go by, he felt it too. Stepping over bodies, you met in the middle, lips attaching together in an instant, and Paul moaned into your mouth as he tasted the blood on your tongue.

“You said something about devouring you after taking you out to dinner,” he purred, voice silky soft.

“I did. But not here. I don’t want an audience,” you eyed the remnants of your dinner lying at your feet.

“Fair enough, I don’t want to share that sight either,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, and you snorted.

“Come on, pretty boy, I have an idea.”

He followed you like an eager puppy as you departed from the darkness of the space under the pier and made your way to a secluded section of the beach, a nice little spot you’ve found on one of your midnight wanderings. You knew it would come in handy eventually.

You got a hold of the lapel of his jacket and pulled him back in, already missing his closeness and his lips on yours. He was all too happy to satiate your craving, his hands sneaking into the back pockets of your pants. You could never grow tired of this, your bodies pressed together, taking the time with exploring and getting a good taste of each other, mouths moving together lazily, sloppily, familiarly, knowing exactly what makes the other tingle in pleasure. But this was only the warmup.

Pulling away from him, you looked back up at him through your lashes, your lips curling into a cheeky smile.

“As much as I love seeing you drenched in blood, we still need to go meet up with the boys. And I don’t think David would be happy with us showing up like this on the boardwalk, not after the mess we’ve already created.”

Paul glanced from you to the ocean behind you, the wheels turning in his head, trying to figure out what you were planning.

“Oh yeah? And what do you suggest, babe?”

Your grin grew wider.

“Something you’ll like.”

Then in one fluid motion you pulled off your top and tossed aside. When you met his eyes again, the look he gave you was so full of love and adoration, it genuinely made your heart ache. Because how the hell did you get so lucky to find a guy who looks at you like that, even after seeing you naked a thousand times, who makes you feel this desired and confident in your skin?

A huge grin grew on his lips and he whooped in excitement.

“Hell yeah, now we’re talking!” he cheered as he was already in the process of dropping all his clothes, with yours following right after.

He practically carried you into the ocean, your shrieking laughter cut off as he tossed you into the water. You were on your feet the next second, splashing him and dragging him down with you when you caught a hold of him. It wasn’t long before your playfighting turned into something steamier, and you finally gave into the desire you’ve both been holding back ever since you woke up at the cave in each other’s arms.

With the stars of the summer night sky shining above you, watching over you, the two of you got lost in each other while the balmy breeze caressed your bare skins, your sounds getting lost under the crushing of the waves and the rumble of the boardwalk in the distance. You made love in the water, on the sand, you devoured each other, lips exploring every inch of skin, fingers sinking into soft flesh. He was gentle, then not so much, taking in every sound you made, worshipping your body. Then you took charge, getting on top of him and leaving him a beautiful moaning mess under you. Your passion lasted hours, time blurring together in the overwhelming pleasure.

By the time you made your way back to the bikes, the boys were already there, and morning was fast approaching. Dwayne and David were deep in conversation, the latter periodically taking drags of his cigarette. Marko was the first to notice you, his lips stretching into a cheeky grin when he took in your faces. Ignoring his suggestive stares, you greeted them with a smile.

“You made quite the spectacle tonight,” David remarked. Damn, cutting right to the case.

“You knew you couldn’t trust us with behaving,” you quipped back.

“I did,” he smiled at you, clearly amused. “Max won’t be happy though.”

You shrugged. “Oh well.”

There was a long moment of silence before he spoke up again.

“Did he deserve it?” There was no question about what he meant by that, all of you knowing full well it wasn’t about the drink-throwing or even the chase through the boardwalk. He didn’t have to ask what you did to the guy.

“Hell yes!” you and Paul answered unanimously, and the others chuckled, a comfortable mood settling over your group.

As you all got on your bikes, ready to go home, Marko spotted something that made him guffaw.

“Damn, girl, did you take a bite out of him too?” he motioned towards Paul’s neck. There were undeniable teeth marks and hickeys already forming there.

“I couldn’t help it, he’s too sweet,” you teased, and Paul blew a kiss over his shoulder to you.

Marko made a gagging sound which earned him a swat over the back of the head by Dwayne.

David revved his bike, a clear indication that he was ready to go, reminding you that there was not much time left before daylight took over. The others followed suit, and you took off back to the cave, back to home.

Rewinding the events of the night after you were already snuggled up to Paul in your nest, your mind wandered back to the thoughts you were having just hours ago, when you were lying there in a very similar position. You really were content with your life with the boys. Yes, it was chaotic at times, but that was in your nature. You were wild creatures after all. Living with them granted you a taste of true freedom in a way you haven’t experienced before. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You pressed a light kiss against Paul’s chest, and he unconsciously tightened his hold on you, his nose buried in your hair, mind already in dreamland. Surrounded by the warmth of your nest and the scent of your lover, you drifted off to sleep just as the sun broke the horizon outside.

Tags: @stinkydove @pandemoniavenus @000-colby @lunarwhitewolf7 @notalwaysa @binightowl

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[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Change

Roman was acting like himself when Thomas was younger, yk overdramatic, prince aesthetic, love of theater etc etc but after a fight with Virgil he decides he wants to be respected and completely switches up reads body language, stays quiet and subdued, refuses to state any opinions the other sides wouldn't completely agree with – himguy

Read on Ao3

Warnings: bullying, more unsymp!sides than I normally go

Pairings: none

Word Count: 8613

Roman is over the top, bombastic, and enthusiastic. He is prone to fits of passion and emotional outbursts. Such is the nature of Creativity. But the others...don't like that. They aren't exactly ambiguous about it either. Or, Roman struggles to walk the line between being himself and being something the others can tolerate. It gets far worse before it gets any better.

“I mean—it’s outrageous! Despicable! Why, the very greats of theater performances past are affronted at the very notion!”

Virgil rolls his eyes, lounging against the bottom of the stairs. “Are you done?”

“Am I done? Am I done? How can you even ask such a question like that, when you have awakened in me passions the likes of which would make the Ancient Greeks rise from their slumber—“

“As if your tantrum hasn’t awoken them already,” Logan mutters under his breath and Janus muffles a snort.

“—to speak in verse so as to demand an answer to the question of why you have decided to make a mockery of their livelihoods! What—how can you ask me if I am done when it is you who started this in the first place!”

Virgil yawns.

”And now—how dare you?”

“Here’s a fun game, take a shot every time Princey says ‘how dare you.’ You’ll be dead in two minutes.”

“We only drink responsibly, Virgil,” Patton chides.

“Yeah, which means you agree that he’s saying it, like, every other sentence.”

“Exactly, so if we’re going to be playing a drinking game, then you should pick something that’s either happening less—“

“Roman being reasonable?”

”How dare—“

“Quick, everyone, take a shot, he said it again!”

Roman puffs his chest up, spluttering, and Virgil just snickers, mocking his half words until Roman’s face is as red as his sash, laughing the whole time. Even Logan has to try and hide his grin as Roman keeps trying and failing to articulate much of anything.

“Oh, give it up,” Virgil sighs after a while, “you’re not making sense, Princey, you haven’t been making sense for like, half an hour. You just keep saying ‘how dare you’ and going on these monologues that don’t mean anything.”

“What do you mean, ‘don’t mean anything?’ Have you not even been listening?”

“Nope.”

“Well, then, you should—what did you say?”

“I said no, Princey, I haven’t been listening. It’s not worth listening to you when you’re not really saying anything.” Virgil scrubs a hand through his hair. “You’re just…you know, talking. Making noise. That’s what you do.”

“What exactly is talking if not making noise, then?”

“Well, ‘talking’ typically refers to stringing words together in a way that actually communicates something worth saying, and ‘making noise’ is just that. Nonsense.”

“That’s not—“

“L? Back me up here.”

“He’s right,” Logan says, crossing his arms as Roman starts to puff up again, “you’ve been wasting our time with these dramatic fits and tantrums that are not and have never been productive. So unless you have something that’s actually worth saying, then I agree with Virgil that you’ve made enough noise for the evening.”

“Or ever.”

“Kiddo,” Patton scolds, “it’s not nice to say that Roman shouldn’t ever make noise again.”

“But you agree with me.”

“…I think that—“

“That’s a yes,” Janus says helpfully, smiling as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth when Roman glares at him.

”What is this, Pick On Roman Day? Did I miss a memo where you all decided it would be good funny to belittle me?”

“More like did you decide to wake up and abuse our eardrums for ages and ages.”

“How is this more productive than the things I was saying?” He flings his hand out at Virgil. “He’s just insulting me?”

“Yes, which is doing the productive task of making sure that you’re not monologuing anymore,” Logan sighs, rubbing his temples. “I believe I’m going to call it here. If there’s nothing else pertinent…?”

“No,” Janus says before he can say anything, “nothing.”

“I will see you all for dinner, then.”

”Wait, Logan, you can’t just—“ Logan sinks out before he can finish his sentence— “how come he gets to do that and when I do it you all yell at me?”

“Because he’s doing the healthy thing of respecting his own boundaries,” Patton says, “and not just deciding that he doesn’t want to be here anymore.”

“How is that different?” Patton just looks at him like he’s the most disappointed he’s ever been. “What? Don’t look at me like that!”

“I’m gonna go too. I’ll see you kiddos later.”

”Wait, Pat—“

“He’s gone, Princey,” Virgil declares, still lazing about like some great over stuffed cat, “he’s not coming back.”

“What, are you two going to sink out next?”

“Oh, no, please,” Janus drawls. “Don’t mind me, this is the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in weeks.”

”What is?”

“Watching you be a peacock getting your feathers plucked.”

Roman yelps, hands going automatically behind him, and both of them burst out into laughter. Embarrassment and humiliation burn his cheeks and they just keep laughing, calling him a tomato, a pincushion, a whoopee cushion, and—and—

“Aww,” he hears Virgil simper, “is Princey gonna cry?”

Something deep inside of Roman’s chest snaps.

The living room disappears. He’s standing in his bedroom. Did he sink out? He doesn’t remember. His hands burn. His chest is splitting in agony. He can still hear laughter ringing and ringing in his ears, louder and louder and louder and louder—

Distantly, he registers that he’s on his knees, somehow, hunched over until his forehead burns into the rough shag carpet. The balloon in his chest keeps snapping hardly against his ribs with every rough inhale, the ache in his hands giving way to the sharp bite of his own nails in his palm. He splutters again, gasping for breath. It doesn’t work. He does it again. His chest feels like it’s about to splinter into pieces. They just keep laughing. Why do they always laugh?

Peacock. Tomato. Pincushion. Whoopee Cushion. Spluttering, overblown, overdramatic, messy, nonsense Prince.

That wasn’t fair. It isn’t fair.

Life isn’t fair, Roman, he can hear Logan sighing, you can’t just complain about everything all the time. You have to work for things.

Fine. They want Roman to work for things? They want him to act like he’s someone worthy of respect? Fine. He’ll play their stupid game.

***

”Ah. Roman.” Logan adjusts his glasses. “You’re late.”

“Sorry, I know, I was caught up in—“

“It doesn’t matter,” he continues, turning back to Patton like Roman hadn’t been speaking, “at any rate, I find it highly unlikely that a video on the animal shelters nearby will be a successful venture for Thomas.”

“But it’s a good thing to do, Logan! Besides, they have a fundraiser thing going on right now, we could help raise awareness?”

“Yeah, but what if that’s not what they’re asking for?” Virgil shakes his head. “We might just end up making things worse.”

“Besides, Thomas’s content shares to far more than just a local audience. It would be in an effort to reach the wrong demographic.”

“Well, as Thomas’s Creativity, I think that we should—“

“Oh, good, here we go, Princey’s gonna lecture us again.

Roman frowns. “I’m…but I am Thomas’s Creativity. It’s my job to come up with ideas.”

“Come up with ideas and order everyone else around like we’re your personal servants are two very different things, Roman.”

“I didn’t say that, you slippery snake—“

“Name calling will not do you any favors.” Logan’s voice cracks across the room and Roman just manages to resist the urge to flinch. “You showed up late, Roman. You do not have the authority to override anyone else, as much as we all know you wish you could.”

“Only we can,” Virgil pipes up as Janus gives a little wave, “sorry, Princey.”

“You’re not sorry.”

“Neither are you, and you should be for being so rude.”

“I—“

“They’re right, Roman,” Patton says quietly, “go on.”

Roman looks around at all of them. They stare at him expectantly. A lump grows in his throat and he mutters an apology.

“That’s better.” Logan turns away from him again. “Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…”

The others respect Logan, at least, they think that he’s worth listening to. And he’s not scolded for interrupting anyone. Maybe he could be respected the way Logan is, if he shows them that he knows what he’s talking about.

***

Roman shows up to the next meeting with his arms full of binders and notebooks. Janus raises an eyebrow as he sets them all in a neat little row around himself, waiting for the meeting to start.

“Jeez, Princey, did you murder enough trees yet? You know we’re trying to save the planet, yeah, not just kill it faster?”

“It’s research.”

“Research,” Janus repeats dubiously, just as Logan shows up.

“Ah, good, nice to see we’re all on time this time.”

“Uh, Patton’s not here yet.”

Virgil scoffs. “Snitch.”

“How am I being a snitch? You can clearly see he’s not here.”

“There’s no need to be rude, Roman.” Logan eyes his pile suspiciously. “Despite how…overeager you might be.”

“But I just—“

“Sorry, sorry!” Patton rises up. “Sorry I’m late, I just lost track of time!”

“It’s alright, Patton—“ how come it’s alright when Patton’s late, but not me?— “we can get started now.”

Great. Roman picks up the binders and starts trying to hand them out, only for Virgil to raises his eyebrow and nudge it away like it’s radioactive.

“What the hell is that supposed to be?”

“It’s…it’s research. For the video idea. I was looking into media study theories about the subjects that we wanted to include—“

“‘We?’ There’s no ‘we’ in this, Princey, we haven’t even made a decision yet. I feel like we went over this.”

Roman chews on his lip. “I know, but I wanted to have evidence for my side, and—“

“There are no sides anymore, Roman,” Janus sighs, looking almost bored, “we’re working together on this, remember?”

“…okay, I wanted to have evidence to back up what I wanted to say, is that better?”

“Well, considering you’re trying to hand me a phone book, no, not really.”

Roman huffs, letting the binder fall to the floor. Patton tuts disapprovingly at the noise. “You guys like it when Logan brings in a bunch of evidence, why can’t I—“

“Excuse me?” Logan’s expression darkens. “Is that all you think I do, Roman?”

“Oh, shit, you’ve done it now,” Virgil mutters as Logan takes a step forward.

“I—I just—I wanted to—“

“I bring in evidence to support the things I say because that is the responsible this to do. I choose the sources that will most accurately and succinctly back up my claim because I respect the time of the people I am talking to.” Logan looms over him, even though they’re about the same height. “If you are so desperate as to try and steal what it is that I do because you don’t feel as though your ego has been properly sated—“

“Ooh, get him, L.”

“—then I highly suggest you do your research.”

Janus is openly grinning and Virgil is hiding snickers behind his hand. Logan stares at him for a moment longer before he drops the binder with a thud. Roman flinches. He barely hears anything else over the rush of shame in his ears as he gathers up all of his binders and clutches them to his chest.

If they’d even bothered to look inside, they would’ve seen his summary of the academic essays and papers he’d read where he put in only the relevant parts and annotated his ideas with them, but they didn’t. They didn’t look inside. Not one of them. That wasn’t fair either. What else is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to get them to listen?

Remus. They pay attention to Remus when he shows up. Maybe he should ask Remus what to do.

***

“Remus? I—whoa!” He dodges a flying piece of…something. “I had something I wanted to ask you!”

Remus looks up from his perch on top of a mountain of various animal parts and grins, sliding down what Roman hopes is a giant tongue and shaking himself off. “What’s cracking?”

“How do you get the others to listen to you?”

“Scream until their eardrums bleed, that’s a good way.”

Roman winces. “But then they’re not—then they can’t hear at all.”

”That’s not my problem.”

“No, I mean—when you show up, everyone pays attention to you. How…how do you do that? How do you get them to take you seriously?”

“I find holding a very sharp weapon does wonders for making sure you’re listened to. Especially if they know you’ll use it!”

“I don’t want to hurt them, Re.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I just—I’m struggling with getting them to take me seriously. They don’t want to listen to me, they don’t really respect me, I just—“

“Here, hold this.”

“—I want them to—ack!”

The ball of whatever-it-was Remus placed in his hands explodes into a noxious cloud of spores, making him crouch and flail as Remus cackles. The familiar burn forms the lump in his throat and he tries to take a deep breath to calm himself down—

—only to go into a massive coughing fit when he inhales the spores again.

“Sheesh, Ro, maybe you should’ve learned your lesson.” Remus pats him on the back with mock sympathy. “Did you want to say something?”

Roman opens his mouth and promptly swallows another round of the spores and has to double over, hacking them up. Remus just grins. He waves his arms frantically to get those stupid things out of the air and glares.

“Aw, lighten up, bro! You looked like you could use a laugh.”

“Re, I came to you for help.”

“Pfft. That’s your fault, not mine. What’s the matter, Ro? I’ve never had problems with getting them to take me seriously.”

“Well, yeah, because they’re scared of you.”

Remus freezes. The smile slides off his face. “Wh-what?”

“You threaten them with weapons, you scream at them until their ears bleed, wouldn’t you be scared?” Remus’s lower lip wobbles. “Wait, I didn’t mean—“

Remus sinks out before he can say anything else. He groans in frustration and scrubs his hands over his face, remembering too late that there are still spores there, and he sinks out to his bathroom to wash them all off. Scrubbing at the skin doesn’t really do anything to dull the frustration of Remus being so unhelpful and the guilt at…upsetting him.

No sooner has he dried off—actually, better make that started to dry off—does he feel the familiar yank of being summoned. He rises up in the middle of the Dark Side’s living room to see a teary Remus in Janus’s arms and an absolutely furious Virgil.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you,” Virgil spits in his face before he can even say anything, “how the fuck can you be so cruel?”

“I didn’t—“

“You actually fucking told Remus that we’re all scared of him? What the fuck, Princey?”

“I didn’t mean to, I just—!”

“Please,” Janus hisses, voice laced with enough venom to make his throat tingle, “tell us what you did mean, since clearly we must be missing something.”

Virgil glowers and folds his arms. Remus sniffles, head still pillowed in the crook of Janus’s shoulder. One of his hands rubs soothing circles over Remus’s back and a jolt of longing makes Roman’s chest ache anew.

“Well?”

“…I just meant that he threatens you guys all the time, and he—“

“Wow.” Virgil scrubs a hand over his face and starts to pace in a circle. “Just fucking wow, Roman.”

“What? He does! He admitted it, that’s what he does whenever he shows up!”

“And of course he only shows up to be the bad guy, right? That’s what you’re gonna say next?”

“I never said that! I didn’t say that! I would be scared if someone showed up and threatened to hurt me with an extremely sharp weapon or scream until my ears bleed, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, jeez, Princey, seems like you got it all figured out. No use asking us how we feel, no, you already got everything all sorted. Just the way you like it, huh?”

“That’s not what I meant, I just—“

“What is all of this racket about?”

Roman’s heart sinks when he sees Patton and Logan come in from the hall. Patton, of course, catches sight of the still-sniffling Remus and rushes over, all soft care and concern that makes Roman burn with envy, and Virgil wastes no time telling Logan about all the horrible things he said and how he’s refusing to apologize for it. Sure enough, Logan’s disappointed look turns on him in less than one minute.

“Roman,” Patton says sternly, “how could you say something like that?”

“Is there something I’m missing here? Do other people not get scared when someone shows up and threatens to hurt them?”

Patton frowns. Logan and Virgil don’t bother to hide their disgusted expressions. Janus bends down to murmur something comforting in Remus’s ear. Roman throws his hands up.

“I don’t get it! What am I not getting? Please, someone tell me, tell me what I don’t get about—“

“That’s enough.”

Patton’s tone, cold enough to freeze even the brightest stars, stops him cold.

“You’re behaving horribly, Roman, and you know that. You’re reacting in a very immature way and I expected more from you. Now, do you have an apology to make to Remus, or are you going to keep throwing a tantrum about getting caught doing something bad?”

Roman swallows around the lump in his throat. He looks at Remus, who peers out from Janus’s protective hold to look at him. In truth, he never meant to hurt his brother. He does feel bad about it, and yes, he wants to apologize.

But he looks around at the sheer force with which the others have decided to support and care for Remus, and he just…

“I’m sorry I said everyone was scared of you, Remus.”

Janus bares his teeth and hisses and Patton’s face darkens.

“Out.”

“But I said I was—”

“Get out, Roman.”

Virgil steps forward as if he’s going to bodily shove Roman out of the room and Roman quickly sinks out, listening to the comforting words of the others as they start to gather around Remus and he—he—

You know what? Fine. Fucking fine.

They say he’s being immature and dramatic and stupid and disrespectful and cruel and mean and a peacock and a tomato and a pin cushion and selfish and egotistical and badly behaved and he’s throwing a tantrum then fine. Then fine,

He sinks into the Imagination atop a vast, barren wasteland of dry cracking stone and winds racing across miles and miles of absolutely nothing. Sand stings across his exposed skin and he pays it no mind. The ground begins to split and crack under him.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair. He’s not allowed to be passionate about anything or be hurt when people make fun of him. He’s not allowed to do research or do anything similar to what anyone else might be doing. He’s not allowed to go ask for help because he’ll say the wrong thing and everyone else will immediately take the side that isn’t his. He’s supposed to be this stupid dancing monkey that no one has to listen to and he never gets to actually say any of this out loud.

When was the last time someone asked him if he was okay? When was the last time someone actually listened to him? But no, Roman doesn’t get to be taken seriously. Roman doesn’t get to be hurt and upset and want things like everyone else. Roman doesn’t get to do any of that.

Roman gets to scream himself hoarse in a sandstorm until the sand scrapes his tears from his cheeks and the grind cracks under him, that’s what Roman gets to do. He gets to scream and rage and shout that it’s not fair, because it’s not fair, in a place where no one could or would care enough to hear him. He gets to scream and rage and be hurt all on his own where even the wind won’t give him the breath to speak and you know what? Maybe this is better.

Because when he looks around at the scar in the face of the earth he’s made with blood on his knuckles and an undying ache in his chest, maybe the others were right.

***

That was three months ago.

Roman wasn’t allowed to come to the meeting for a while. Remus went instead. Roman spent his time in the Imagination trying not to let the hurt in his chest turn him to stone. They dropped off a list of everything they needed him to do after the meetings were over and he did them.

Then he was allowed to come back on a sort of trial basis as long as he behaved himself. He didn’t know what that meant, but he knew they didn’t like it when he said things or acted like he knew what to do, so he didn’t say anything. Remus was still there and Remus interrupted and said things and the others laughed or listened or told him his ideas were good. They didn’t ask Roman if he had any ideas.

They still got mad if Roman was late, even if he wasn’t saying anything anyway. They still got mad if Roman wasn’t paying attention, even though they didn’t listen to any of his suggestions when he wanted to make them. They still expected him to do all of the things they wanted, even if that wasn’t something that he could do and he tried to tell them that and they told him to stop being lazy because Remus was doing all of this stuff too. It still wasn’t fair, but Roman knew better than to ask why now.

He still went to the Imagination. The Imagination didn’t judge him when he wanted to make his ideas, or when he wanted to just say something wasn’t fair out loud. He went there almost every night just to feel a little bit better, to go sit by the waterfalls and watch the rainbows form, or to go sit in the glowstone forest for a while and listen to the chirping of the tasselflies. Mostly he went to go take care of his dragon. She didn’t mind if his hands shook as he brushed her scales or if he needed to whisper-ramble to himself about how much it hurt to be in the meetings now. In the beginning he tried not to cry on her because he worried that it was rude but then she snuffled into his face with hers and wrapped her tail around him so he figured she didn’t mind too much. Sometimes he just went to her so he could lie against her scales; she was warm the way all dragons are and if he was very tired or very upset, it was almost like getting a hug. She couldn’t hug him, outside of wrapping her tail around him a few times, but she was warm and she was nice and she let him cuddle up to her, so it was okay.

Then he gets called to a meeting that isn’t the one they have planned and he only just gets there on time. He rises up into the living room and everyone else is already there, staring at him. He straightens his shirt a little self-consciously—he stopped wearing the prince costume when Janus told him he didn’t need to dress like he was always about to go to his own coronation—and waits for someone to explain what’s going on.

Logan eventually breaks the silence, sighing and straightening his glasses. “Roman, do you know why you’re here?”

He shakes his head.

“You’re because we think—well, we feel that this temper tantrum has gone on long enough.”

Temper tantrum? What temper tantrum? He’s doing what they want, isn’t he? He’s not being dramatic, he’s not doing anything wrong, he’s—he’s behaving. Just like they wanted.

“This moping, the silent treatment, the lack of initiative you’ve shown,” Logan continues, “whatever point you’re trying to make, it would be better if you just said it. Then we could come to a solution and move on.”

“I…I don’t understand.”

”He means,” Janus says, his voice way too condescending, “that this little poor-me-I’m-the-victim charade you’ve been putting on isn’t fooling anybody. So if you wouldn’t mind using your words?”

But he…they didn’t like it when he was being the way he was before. Why would they want him to go back to that? That was bad, they hated it, hated him, he—he doesn’t understand.

“Roman?” Patton prompts. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Told you,” Virgil mutters, “here we go.”

“I…you didn’t like it when I was being dramatic, or when I tried to give ideas or said I knew what I was doing—o-or when I tried to research what I wanted to do and show you, so I…I didn’t…I don’t—what am I doing wrong?”

“For fuck’s—you can stop it, Roman,” Virgil groans, “whatever act you’re doing, great, we bought it, show’s over, now tell us what’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on! I’m not trying to trick you guys! I’m just trying to be what you want!”

Janus scoffs. “And you think what we want is a limp, wet blanket of a person that shows no initiative and barely bothers to put in the effort?”

Roman’s mouth just opens and closes a few times, staring at him, before his gaze desperately lands on Remus. Remus will understand, he has to, he has to know Roman’s not trying to play a trick on them or anything, he has to—

“Remus,” he starts, and has to swallow when Janus moves slightly in front of him as if to protect him, “Re, please, I didn’t—I’m not trying to do anything, I swear.”

“…why else would you be acting like this?”

Any hope he may have had that Remus would come to his defense drops like s stone to the bottom of the deepest ocean in the Imagination. The lump swells up in his throat and he has to look down.

”Oh, look, here it comes,” he hears Virgil mutter, “he’s gonna cry.”

“I’m not.”

Virgil huffs and now Roman has to do everything in his power not to cry in front of them. He won’t do it. It’s not fair. He’s not giving them the satisfaction of it.

There’s a long pause before Patton sighs.

“Do you have anything else you want to say for yourself?”

He shakes his head.

“Then perhaps it’s better if you don’t come to the meetings until you’ve sorted yourself out.”

He just nods. Patton must’ve expected him to say or do something else because there’s a sigh.

“Then you can go.”

Roman sinks out the second he’s given permission and hits the rocky cliffside on the way up to his dragon’s favorite perch. He’s already losing the battle; tears and sniffles leak out of him as he fumbles for his bag with her brush and her snacks in it, stumbling up the cliff as the clouds roll in. He manages to clear the threshold of her mountain-top cave before his knees give out and her brush clatters out of the bag.

In an instant, she raises her head and turns to look at him, letting out a concerned rumble and promptly scooping him up in one of her claws and taking flight. He clings to her talon as they fly down to one of the small coves on the edge of the Great Sea, settling in the soft, warm grass and letting go. With tail, wing, and snout, she maneuvers him into the lea of her, wing lowered protectively over him like a blanket with her head turned so her nose nuzzles into the soft part of his chest.

“They still think I’m—I’m being bad,” he hiccups as she purrs soothingly, “they think I’m faking all this, that I’m—that I’m trying to—to trick them or something, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, and it’s not fair because Remus gets to be as messy and over-dramatized as he wants and they like it, they’re not even—even mad about it, it’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not—not fair—“

He dissolves into stupid, blubbering sobs and his dragon just huffs, blowing warm air over him in some phantom embrace and he throws himself in a heap over her snout, trying in vain to hold her back. She purrs in contentment, though he has no idea why, and just lets him be a mess all over her. He’s just so tired of this; of not being right, of not knowing what they want, of not being able to just exist without being critiqued or criticized or mocked. At least he won’t have to attend the meetings for a while, but then that means he also won’t get to see the others for a while.

Maybe that’s for the best.

Distantly, he hears the sound of water sloshing. He peers out to see the arms of the Kraken rising up from the water, the very top of his head poking out. The dragon lets out a rumble of greeting as an arm reaches toward them. She opens her wing to allow it to rest on the grass and Roman reaches out a shaky hand. He’s still sniffling too much to say anything but he pats the arm and the Kraken trills. At the questioning burble, he shakes his head and curls up a little tighter. The water around the arms churns into a slight froth as the Kraken shifts. Another low trill rings out and the arm slips away, the shadow fading beneath the surface and moving away. Roman closes his eyes again, resting against the dragon’s scales, until he hears a faint voice coming from the water.

“—drag me off like that, you know better, what is it you want to show me so badly over here?”

Roman’s blood runs cold. Remus. Ollie went to go get Remus.

He curls up even tighter and the dragon snuffles, lowering her wing protectively.

“Roman’s dragon? Why’d you bring me here?” Footsteps on the grass as Remus gets closer and the dragon growls in warning. “What’s wrong? Are you—wait, Ro?”

No. I’m not here. He curls up as small as he can go but that damage is done.

“Ro, what’re you doing? Did you fall? Are you hurt or something?” The dragon’s growl turns to a snarl when Remus keeps getting closer. “Why’re you…are you just upset that we figured out your acting thing?”

There’s no way in hell he could ever hope to disguise his flinch. The dragon lifts her head and properly bares her teeth at Remus. Ollie rumbles in warning too.

“It’s—I don’t get it, Ro. You had to know—it wasn’t exactly a believable thing.”

“Remus? Are you over here?”

“Fuck, this place is pretty. Why do you think we’ve never seen it before?”

”Roman hoarding it to himself, most likely.”

No.

No.

No, no, no, why are they here?

The Imagination is his space. His place to be alone, to be messy, to be himself. They can’t—if they take this too, where else could he go?

“Yeah, I’m up here, so’s Ro, we just need to—whoa!”

Ollie had grabbed Remus bodily around the waist and thrown him far out into the water with a single arm. As the others come over the hill, more arms rise up and the Kraken takes a defensive stance, head raising with water pouring off the sides as it rumbles. The dragon growls too, her tail coming up to circle protectively around him.

”Roman,” he hears Patton call, his voice a little higher than normal, “Roman, come out and talk to us, please.”

Nope.

“Fuck, that thing’s huge,” he hears Virgil mutter and part of him wants to snap not to call Ollie a thing. “And the dragon too—how are we gonna—?”

“We won’t have to do anything, because Roman knows when enough is enough, and he’ll come out and talk like a mature person, won’t he?”

Nope. No, the fuck I won’t. The dragon growls too.

“Roman, be reasonable,” he hears Logan say, “you can’t expect us to take you seriously if this is how you want to have this conversation.”

On the contrary: this is the most seriously they’ve taken anything to do with Roman for a long time, and he has no intentions of having any sort of conversation right now.

“You’re not doing a very good job of demonstrating that you’ve learned from your mistakes,” he continues, “nor that we should be taking you seriously.”

“Or that we should continue being so patient,” he hears Janus mutter.

He knew it was coming, it’s been the only thing coming for months now, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Ollie heard it too, though, and gasps and scuffles come as more of the arms reach and Roman feels a sudden stab of fear—

He throws his arm out and miraculously, Ollie notices. He pauses, a questioning burble, and reaches an arm to lie on the grass near Roman. Roman rests a hand on it again, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat.

“They’ll be mad at me,” he whispers, “please—please just—just let them. I can’t—I can’t anymore.”

The dragon rumbles and Ollie makes a discontented noise, but his arms lower back into the water with a splash. Just then, another splashing noise accompanied by Patton’s cry of relief signals Remus’s return to the cove. Roman closes his eyes and tries to forget that he’s here. Maybe if he stays still and quiet enough, they’ll leave.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Remus says, “he wasn’t trying to hurt me, just get me away. Why he didn’t say that when he was the one to bring me over here in the first place, I don’t know, but—“

He’s cut off when a furious set of burbles comes from Ollie.

”Slow down, I can’t understand you like that.”

“Uh, Remus, could you get some sort of translator so we can all understand?”

“Sure. One sec.” A brief whiz and a flash of light. “There. Now: from the beginning?”

Ollie burbles again, but this time a deep gravely voice comes from what Roman guesses is the translation device.

“Red Prince is upset.”

“Red Prince? Is that Roman?”

“Yeah, that’s what they call him. Why’s he upset?”

The Kraken shifts. “You have made him upset. Red Prince comes everyday to She-Who-Tends-The-Clouds and he cries. He is cold. He is scared.”

“Scared?” Remus asks as the others mutter. “Why is he scared?”

“He was scared when I brought you.”

Roman flinches. They’re all going to take that the wrong way.

“Why was he scared when you brought me?”

An arm lifts from the water and points. “Because you bring the others. The Untouched. Those-Who-Do-Not-Shape.”

“Those who do not shape? I shape very much, thank you.”

“He means you don’t control the Imagination, Janny. But why would Ro be scared of that? Of you guys?”

Now his dragon snarls, her voice coming from the translator. “Because you do not protect him. You protect Green Duke. You do not protect Red Prince, you are cruel to him. He is scared of being hurt when he comes here. He is scared now because you have come where you are not supposed to be.”

“Uh, Miss Dragon? We only followed Remus, Remus brought us in here to show us something. We watched him get taken by that monster—“

“Don’t call him a monster,” Remus says lowly as Ollie growls.

“—sorry, sorry, by, um…by him and we wanted to make sure he was okay.”

“Why’d you bring me, Ollie, if you knew Ro was scared?”

The Kraken shifts as the water froths. “I brought you because you are his brood mate. I thought you were going to help.”

The condemnation in Ollie’s voice is enough to make Roman wince, squeezing the arm still on the grass lightly. The Kraken stills ever so slightly, the arm pressing back against his hand. The dragon noses his hair, blowing warm breath over him.

“I am sorry, Red Prince. I did not mean to bring this here.”

He shakes his head. He could never be mad at Ollie.

”Perhaps we’ve not had the best of first impressions,” Logan says, “I’m not sure either of us has the full picture here, but Roman—Red Prince, if you prefer—has been…acting unfairly towards us in the past, and we are concerned about his behavior.”

“You are correct in stating you do not have the full picture,” Ollie says, rising to an even more terrifying height, “for you do not know how much hurt you have been causing Red Prince.”

“I’m not sure you understand—“

“We understand that Red Prince is provoked to defending himself while the One-Who-Speaks-In-Storms mocks him. We understand that the One-Who-Speaks-In-Lies ridicules and confuses him. We understand that the One-Who-Speaks-In-Absolutes sees him as a disobedient child who only acts to get attention and not with other cause. And we understand that you, One-Who-Speaks-In-Rules, do not see him.”

The dragon picks up where Ollie leaves off, lifting her head to glare at them over the wing covering Roman.

“You mock and belittle his interests and scold him for being hurt over it. You act proprietary over the things you deem yours and chastise him for doing the same. You hold him accountable for every word he speaks and do not think that your words could be wielded just as carelessly. And when one of you is hurt by him,” and here she snarls at Remus, “you are quick to turn on him like a limb caught in a trap to be torn off.”

Roman hears the tense silence after she finishes speaking and braces himself.

“…I don’t believe this,” Virgil grumbles, “is this what Princey does everyday? He comes here and what, makes them believe we’re bullying him? Abusing him?”

“Torturing,” Janus says lightly, “I believe torturing would be more apt.”

“I understand that you’ve heard Roman’s perspective,” Logan says, his voice a little harder now, “but surely you must understand that there are two sides to every story. Are you not at all interested to hear ours?”

“From how you have behaved since setting foot on these shores,” the dragon growls, “no, we are not.”

“Do you even know what he said about Remus?” Patton says. “What made him so upset and us all ‘turn on him?’”

“He said that Green Duke is scary, and that you are scared of him. Because he threatens you with weapons that are sharp and screams that make your ears bleed.”

“Don’t you see how that’s mean?”

“Mean or not, it is the truth. And it is what Green Duke has said of himself.”

“They’re right,” Remus says before anyone else can say anything, “I did say that.”

“What—why?”

“Because it’s true. He came and asked me why you guys listened to me and I said it was ‘cause I…well, yeah.”

“Oh, Remus,” and Janus’s voice immediately softening hits Roman like a lightning strike, “you don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I think that yeah, you guys are scared of me sometimes. I…got caught off guard when Ro said it because Ro’s never been scared of me. At least…not until now.”

Wait. That’s why Remus was so upset? Because he thought Roman was scared of him? No, that’s—that’s not—

“But what do you mean ‘being proprietary,’ Ollie? Over what, the Imagination?”

“It is Red Prince’s job to come up with ideas. He claimed ownership of the role and was scolded. And yet when he tried to work in the way that the One-Who-Speaks-In-Rules does, he was scolded once more.”

“Wait, wait, wait, is this about that research thing Princey did like four months ago?”

“You mean the ‘thing’ that Ro spent days on, researching and annotating his stuff so that you guys would understand how much goes into creating stuff for Thomas? That ‘thing?’”

There’s a pause.

”They did not even look at it,” the dragon says, “they tossed it away while the One-Who-Speaks-In-Rules took offense to Red Prince’s comparison to his diligence.”

There’s another pause.

“We’re not…we’re not seriously buying this, are we? That Roman’s—that Roman’s—“

“Currently got a very angry Kraken and dragon defending him and still so scared that he hasn’t said a fucking word to us the whole time we’ve been here,” Remus interrupts Virgil, “yeah, Virgil, I think we’re buying it. Why the fuck didn’t any of you guys tell me this shit?”

“We didn’t—“

“Didn’t what? Didn’t think I should know that Roman’s been hurting? Didn’t think that Roman was hurt?”

“Don’t act all high and mighty,” Janus warns, “you also thought he was putting on an act until a few minutes ago.”

“Yeah, and I’m rapidly coming to the conclusion that that’s not true and I’ve been a real Class A Dickbag to my brother for like, three months.”

Logan’s scoff hurts. “Why would Roman act like that and believe it? In what set of circumstances would he ever behave that reasonably?”

Roman would not like to be here anymore. He shifts and taps the dragon’s side and she unfurls, humming soothingly as he climbs up into the dip on her back. Ignoring the shouts from the others. They take flight, climbing higher and higher into the sky, breaching the cloud layer and only then does Roman slump. Tears drying against the scales.

“Take me somewhere they won’t find me,” he begs, knowing she’ll hear it over the rush of the wind, “anywhere, please.”

***

“You guys,” Remus growls as the dragon flies away, “are dicks.”

”Again, Remus, you also believed—“

“Yeah, I did. But hey, guess what I don’t do: I don’t make fun of Roman for getting upset or excited about stuff, I don’t disregard his work or tell him he’s stealing my shit, and I don’t make fun of him for being scared. My whole fucking life, our whole fucking lives, Roman’s never been scared of me. Not once. And now? Guess what, now he’s scared of me. Because of this shit.”

“How could we have known this was how Roman was feeling? It’s not like he told us?”

“Yeah, I wonder the fuck why the person whose emotions you make fun of didn’t want to tell you his emotions. Oh, wow is, what a mystery this is.” Remus scrubs a hand over his face. “Fuck. Fuck.”

Ollie just watches them, arms idly toying with the water. He looks up at him, running a hand through his hair.

“You said every night?”

“Every night, Red Prince comes. Sometimes he is able to smile. Not often, not anymore. Mostly he cries, or is too quiet.” The arms shift again. “I have not heard Red Prince sing in a long time.”

That, more than anything else, sobers them. Roman sings. That’s what he does. The sky is blue, the grass is green, Roman sings. Remus takes a shaky breath and Logan adjusts his tie.

“Why is Roman crying?”

“He does not know what he is doing wrong. You did not like him as he was, you do not like him as he is now. You believe he is trying to trick you. What would he have to gain by tricking you?”

“Perhaps he thought that we would realize we treated him unfairly, and that we would apologize.”

“And did you?”

There’s another long pause.

“…oh, dear.”

***

Roman’s awoken in the night by his dragon snuffling at his shoulder. He blinks, sitting up from the bed of soft moss and flower-down to see a figure approaching the dragon’s cave. He blinks again and the silhouette of the wolf fades into view. The dragon hums a greeting and the wolf’s nose bows, before he steps aside and another figure appears.

Roman draws back and the dragon growls.

“It’s just me,” Remus says, hands raised, “I promise, I’m the only one here and I locked the Imagination behind me, no one else can come in. He can confirm.”

The wolf huffs. Roman eyes both of them warily. The dragon’s wing drapes around him.

“Please, Ro, please, I just wanna talk.”

The warring fear and hope make him stand on shaky legs, edging from the dragon’s protective embrace to where Remus can just about reach him. The wolf is a reassuring presence—he wouldn’t have brought Remus if he didn’t think he would be okay, he knows them both well enough.

The twins stand there, looking at each other in the thin shaft of moonlight.

“Are…are you scared of me, Ro?”

“No.”

“…really?”

“I’m scared of them. They all seem to think you need protection from me.”

“I don’t,” he says in a rush, “I never did. I should’ve told them, told you—“

“I said it wrong. It’s not your fault.”

“You said it fine, Roro, you said it fine. I—I miss you. The real you.”

A long pause. The dragon rumbles and the wolf blows out a long breath.

“…it’s not fair,” Roman whispers in the quiet of the night, “it’s not fair, Re.”

“I know, I know it’s not. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, I’m sorry I didn’t know—“

"They hurt me, Re, they hurt me and they didn’t care at all and then they made it seem like I was always doing the wrong thing I I never knew what I was supposed to do—“

“I know, I know—“

“I just wanted them to listen to me, I just wanted them to take me seriously and they never do, they never did, it’s not fair, it’s not fair—it’s not fair—“

Remus bundles his brother in a massive hug that sends both of them to the ground, Roman sobbing into Remus’s chest as someone hugs him for the first time in ages. He’s so cold, he’s so warm, everything hurts, everything is so scary, he has no idea what the hell’s going to happen next, but then he feels the soft brush of the wolf’s nose over his forehead and the gentle rumble of the dragon lowering her wing around the two of them and he thinks maybe…maybe he can just exist here for right now and that’ll be okay.

***

“Princey? Whoa, hey,” Virgil says, raising his hands and taking a few steps back when Roman startles terribly, “didn’t mean to scare you, sorry, sorry.”

Roman just eyes him warily.

“We, uh, we wanted to talk to you. In the, uh, in the living room. Are you…free right now?”

“…I guess.”

Virgil’s shoulders slump in relief. “Great. Great, uh, that’s good. Uh, Remus is there too, so…”

Oh, thank god.

He follows Virgil downstairs and still balks when he sees everyone. Thankfully, Remus is standing in his usual spot by the TV and he holds out his arm for Roman to come stand with him. He goes over and Remus immediately snuggles up to his side.

“Roman,” Logan says, and his voice is so soft that it takes him a moment to even realize he’s holding something, let alone that it’s one of the binders from forever ago, “thank you for joining us. We owe you quite the apology.”

“Wh-what?”

“I apologize for how I’ve treated you,” he continues, still in that soft, soft voice, “it was rude and cruel of me to dismiss and belittle you the way I did. Especially with this—“ and he lifts the binder— “this is fascinating, and I would love to discuss it with you. I…understand that I’ve caused you considerable distress recently and I want you to know that I…I’m sorry, Roman, I’m so sorry.”

“Me next,” Patton says, “I’m sorry too. I assumed you were being immature and rude to us and so I was immature and rude to you. But you were just trying to get us to understand how you felt and I didn’t let you. I’m sorry, Roman, really. You didn’t deserve any of that, kiddo.”

“Now me.” And fuck, Janus is speaking gently to him too and Roman can’t deal with this, he can’t—but Remus holds him firmly. “I’m sorry, sweetie. It seems I—I seem to have a horrible habit of being very, very mean and cruel to you and I’ve never been more determined to break a habit.”

“Guess that leaves me.” Virgil grins sheepishly from under his fringe as Roman turns to stare at him. “I’m…I’m a real piece of shit to you, Princey. And I’m gonna work on it. It’s—I’m the reason shit feels really unfair to you a lot of the time ‘cause I’m the one poking you until you snap back at me, and then only you get yelled at, which sucks. So I’m…I’m gonna work on that. But it still sucks, also I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to accept any of them,” Remus murmurs when Roman just stares bleakly at them, “you don’t have to decide anything right now either.”

Roman just blinks.

“Do you need to go be alone right now?” He nods. “Okay. You tell Ollie I say hi?”

He nods. Remus plants a big obnoxious kiss on his cheek and lets him go and he sinks straight into the Imagination, leaving the rest of them in the living room.

***

That was three months ago.

He did cry again that night, just because he was so overwhelmed. His dragon cuddled him and Ollie swam him around the pretty coral reefs to make him feel better. The wolf even gave him a ride over to Remus’s side to see the galaxy clouds from the tall tower.

He did accept their apologies after a few days, but he said he’d need time. They agreed and he felt…strange.

He went to the meetings, Remus by his side, and slowly he started to share his ideas again. It didn’t go very smoothly, not at first, but then bit by bit it got a little better. He still didn’t want to talk about anything that was actually important to him, because that was too scary.

Then he had a panic attack when Remus wasn’t there and Janus wrapped him up in all his arms, murmuring gentle reassurance in his ear while Logan carefully talked him through it. Patton made him hot chocolate and Virgil covered him in a weighted blanket so he could rest. He was so confused, so scared, so unable to relax until Janus helped him take another sip with a gentle kiss on his cheek and he broke.

It took Logan two seconds to figure out he was touch starved.

Tuesday nights became Cuddle-Roman nights, all of them swaddled in blankets and pillows while Roman cried a little—or a lot—just from how new this was. They got very sad when he said that and he didn’t sleep alone for about a week.

He still went to the Imagination. Sometimes he needed to be by himself and there was nothing wrong with that. His dragon took him flying and cuddle with him on mountaintops, Ollie went swimming with him and the wolf went on walks when he was upset and needed someone to just be there. And Remus would always come play with him whenever he wanted to.

And maybe…maybe things would be okay. Maybe things would get better now.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

[cecexsblog]

Cold Seat | L.Hughes

Warnings: none again. Fluff asf

Pairing: Luke Hughes x fem!reader

a/n: lowkey a blurb. This is basically based in a high school setting more then anything. Specifically my high school. The whole Friday night hockey games where all the high schoolers sit at the very end of the bleachers that only take up one side of the ice. When the girls only go to hang with their friends (watch their crushes play and find them on the hockey website then add their snaps) yeah that’s how this writing piece is working. Except Luke is actually into you and not just some typical hockey boy. You aren’t official but it’s still fun for you to sit in the freezing cold for 2hrs then take a photo with him after:) Can you tell I’m speaking from personal experience?

Tonight the U18 team had their final game in which determined who won the finals. My whole high school was going. The whole town usually takes up every seat in the stands but always leaving room for the high schoolers at the end of the bleachers. Me and my friend f/n had gotten there early to grab seats, the rest of our friends not far behind us. It was just me, her and couple other students sitting down when warm up started. The most entertaining part of the game. Luke was the star player in my little home town so as soon as he stepped out everyone cheered. He didn’t pay attention to it though, he just went on with his warm up and began shooting pucks and skating in random circles.

“He’s not even the best on the team” a girl behind me says.

I choose to ignore her. The thing is Luke was actually the best in his division, he had so many offers for elsewhere but he really just wanted to stay in his home town and play with his friends.

“Please stand for the national anthem” I hear the announcer say. The announcer being Mama Hughes. Everyone stands, the boys lined up on the blue lines with their helmets off. Luke’s curly hair already sweaty from warm up. He looked down at his skates.

The game started. Luke at face off starting the game of right with a pass to one of his team mates. Nearing the end of the first period the score was still 0-0. That was until Luke made a shot and got it in. The crowd went crazy, he did a stupid bow and his teammates rushed over to him. They all hugged by the glass in front of me. He looks over his shoulder at me and gives me the cheesiest smile. I smile back. I hear the girl behind me scoff.

~

Near the end of the 3rd period we were tied with the other team at 5-5. Everyone knew if we lost this game we were just second place. There was 10 seconds left in the 3rd and everyone was nailed biting, sure over time was fine but it’s not the best. All of a sudden Luke is shooting down the ice making a break away and pulls his stick back making a wrist shot. The puck flies straight down the ice and right past the goalies glove into the net right as the buzzer goes. The arena goes wild. I look across the ice to see all the boys jumping over boards and onto the ice to congratulate the team. Me and all the other students are all screaming, I’m hugging my friends with tears in my eyes. I look down the bleachers towards the penalty boxes and the announcers boxes, I see Ellen waving me over. As soon as step in the box she gives me a big hug.

“They won!” She screams.

“I know!!!” I scream back. “Now we don’t have to deal with Luke’s cranky butt all night”

“Exactly what I thought!” She exclaims.

I look at the ice and notice all the stick, helmets, and gloves scattered across the ice as the boys continue congratulating each other. Mr. Hughes giving Luke a tight hug. Since it was Luke’s senior year the moment was bitter sweet. A bored member brings the banner out to the team and they take a big photo.

“Would Luke Hughes, number 43, please make his way to the penalty box” I hear over the intercom. I look at Ellen who’s speaking into the mic. She shoots me a smile. “There’s someone very special over here who wants to see you”

Ellen opens the gate for me to step on the ice. Luke skating full speed towards me. He picks me up and spins me around while still on the ice.

“Guess what!” He says to me.

“What?!”

“We won!” He says, again with a big cheesy smile.

“I know!” I say with a squeaky voice.

He leans down and places a kiss on my forehead.

“Hey captain!” I hear one of his coaches yell from across the ice. “I gotta get a photo with you”

“I’ll be right back” he says while letting go of my hand.

When he comes back he brings the banner with and says we need a photo, Ellen steps out to capture it. Then we get one without the banner. Before the last photo he leans into my ear and whispers… “I love you”. A smile creeps onto my face as Ellen captures another photo, totally oblivious to what Luke whispered to me.

“I love you too” I whisper back.

<3

a/n: sorry this is short and kinda bland but I thought it was cute. wish all hockey boys were like my version of Luke.

[laughingsapphic-creates]

Inukag Week day 5: Heat

Yesterday's story was over 5000 words and I didn't even post on time. Today you get a snippet lol

@inukag-week

~~~~~~

Summertime Savage

Kagome sighed in relief, setting down the last basket.

"Alright! Everyone ready?"

"Hard to say, since you haven't told us what we're doing," Shippo pointed out, "but I took off my vest and shirt, if that's all you meant."

"It is! And since it's been so hot lately, I thought a water balloon fight would be a fun way to beat the heat!" Kagome explained, picking up one of the colorful balloons.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Sango hummed, sounding unsure. Kagome had brought a swimsuit for her to borrow, and a skirt to go over it if she wanted it, which she had.

"Don't worry, you look great! And if Miroku gets handsy, just start chucking," Kagome grinned, tossing the balloon to Sango. She caught it easily, careful not to squeeze the taut rubber. "Oh! Shippo, here, these are for you, too!"

Kagome grabbed the bag she'd carried the balloons and hand pump in, picking out a pair of children's gardening gloves.

"Is this part of the game?" He asked, pulling the first glove over his hand.

"Not typically, but most kids who have water balloon fights don't have sharp claws. They're not much fun when every balloon pops in your hand before you get to throw it."

"Not that I'm complaining, Kagome," Miroku assured as he and Inuyasha returned to the group, stripped down to their hakama trousers, "But what exactly is the objective of this game?"

"There isn't like, a win condition, per se. It's just trying to land as many hits as you can while not getting hit. Like a snowball fight, but better, because it's hot out, so getting hit with something cold is actually nice," she shrugged, going back to the bag. "Here, Inuyasha, I have gloves for you, too."

"Feh, I don't need 'em," he huffed.

Kagome watched as Shippo narrowed his eyes, picking up one of the balloons with his own gloved hands.

"Hey, Inuyasha," he hucked a bright orange balloon. "Catch!"

Inuyasha reached out to catch the balloon, which he did.

And then he closed his hand around it, which punctured the delicate material. He squawked in surprise at the jolt of cool water, clenching his fist around the shredded balloon.

"You little brat!"

Snatching the gloves from Kagome's hands, he gave Shippo about a second's head start, picking up one of the baskets and beginning to chase him down.

"Spend all morning pumping balloons by hand so we can have a fun afternoon, and now they're being used in anger," Kagome sighed, shaking her head. Kagome patted her shoulder, flashing a smile.

"Don't worry so much, Kagome. This is just how they have fun, you know?"

"You think so?"

"For sure," she nodded, still smiling as she took a balloon in each hand and turned her gaze on Miroku. "I'm starting to see the appeal as well."

"Sango?" Miroku asked, smiling through his nerves. "Sango, let's talk about this!"

"Start running, Monk!"

Kagome sighed, but smiled, eyes flashing at the sight of Inuyasha, who had chased Shippo to the low boughs of the nearest tree.

"Kagome! Kagome help!"

"Get down here and face me!"

Picking up an armload of water balloons, Kagome strode over, hucking the first at the back of his head. Another indignant squawk escaped him, and he whipped around to stare at her

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

"What? Like you?" He asked smugly. Smirking, she threw another balloon, hitting him square in the chest. With a laugh, he picked up a balloon from his basket, and Kagome got one more shot in before she took off running with a laugh, Inuyasha taking chase automatically.

The valley surrounding the base of the waterfall echoed with shrieks and laughter for more than two hours. Kagome had to implement a "no picking up baskets" rule when Sango took two and used Kirara to implement a tactical air strike against Miroku, and Shippo had eventually gotten his shirt back and began filling it with balloons, tackling people as a means of attack. Miroku had thought to use his staff to deflect the projectiles, but they usually ended up splashing him anyway. The absolute enragement from Inuyasha whenever a balloon he threw managed to not pop on impact was hilarious to watch, but he was still clearly having a good time.

Kagome had distracted him from targeting Sango, and gotten him to chase her again. The balloons had almost run out, she only had one more on her, and she wanted to make it count.

When she reached the dead end, Kagome turned, throwing the balloon, which caught him in the shoulder before he had her backed up against the base of the cliff, one hand planted to the side of her head, the other holding a red balloon

"What's your plan now, wench?" He asked with a superior smile

Kagome didn't answer, blinking up at him with wide eyes and a soft expression. She held his gaze, looking startled but not upset.

Inuyasha's brows furrowed in confusion for a moment, before Kagome's eyes moved down, looking Inuyasha over slowly, and his face erupted with warmth as he realized what she must be thinking.

"Y- Kagome I-!"

Quick as a flash, Kagome grabbed the hand with the balloon, which had lowered in his shock, and smashed it into his chest, splashing them both.

Inuyasha grunted in surprise, eyes blown wide. And before he could even yell in indignation, Kagome pecked his cheek, reaffirming his shock.

Slipping out from between him and the rock, Kagome grinned as he turned to look at her again.

"Turnabout. Not a bad plan, for a wench," she laughed, winking at him before bolting back to the baskets, to see if she could get her hands on one more balloon and definitely not to distract herself from what she'd just done.

Inuyasha watched her run, a tiny, incredulous smile on his lips, before he took chase once more.

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

66.7512 meters episode!!!

i think i broke his heart! oh well!!!! ÑLKÑLK ruby y are u so happy about this all the time skfljdks1 (waiting for the karmic writing where someone breaks *her* heart....). tbh also very doctor-like. they are *so* unhinged

i was looking for some Spin-off foreshadowing in this war between land and sea business but best i've got is that... it will probably be set in wales ksdlfj

nuclear war is hilarious. fiften u are not all right.

That's the most bizarre "circle" ive ever seen. if anything is the orthogonal projection of a geodesic dome.

"A pee around the back"…….. dr pee foreshadowing

AESOP #1: children, when u are doing "off the road tourism", don't disturb sacred sites

susan twist's "thing" is just gonna be: "take revenge from being killed so many times". like she's just red-shirting all over the place (maybe it's gonna be a bit of meta commentary of the high body count of this show? that it's all for our sadistic pleasure but doesn't always have real significance skfldj)

I guess inflation is a recurring theme this season?

liminal spaaaace

"and then there's the blood""w-what blood?" i laughed ngl sksksk

the different color fonts in iplayer are a bit distracting tbh…...

ah yes. welsh racism...

hmmm… runy sitting in the chair... to wait in front of the tardis... "The one who waits?"

Thats' what men do skdksk love me some "Intergalactic fuck boy" subtext being voice and made text

Poor ruby ):

it's about the [metaphor for being stigmatized]!!!

Ohh the doctor was the first to disappear by the curse, maybe?

"even ur real mother didnt want u" Bro this monster is so mean wtf Kate!!!

AGAINST HIM, SOMETIMES!!!!!!!!! Antagonist kate be coming!!!

"well, that's classified"

This timeline might be suspended along ur event???

WE INVENT THE RULES AND MAKE THEM WORK!!! THEMES!! YOU HAVE TO COUNT EVERY GRAIN OF SALT!!! IT'S THE GAME THEME CONNECTING TO THE SUPERSTITION THEME!!!!!!!!

theeeemes

the more unit gets competent the more sinister they become

her going "cheers!" to her personal satan. i love u ruby

FUCK YEAH. ICON. GO KILL THE PRIME.MINISTER

...only guys in ruby's little montage ]: im heartbroken T.T rip the x5 times wlw companions streak dream it seems

"except the bed thing that was u" narrator voice: it wasnt

"Which is what?" KILL THE PM KILL THE PM DO IT ICON

Rtd connected to the universe skskdk oh beautiful synergy

[also literally how Y&Y starts... ]

"No more" feels loaded/intentional here, considering how it's been used before as an Important Phrase is War's arc.

the emo advisor guy intrigues me

Ruby having to solve this whole thing + cold war vibes.... mmm very ace coded

[lol @ soc dem / liberal writers being so scared of "populism" and "the dumbness of crowds". peak soc dem / liberal] [what is a "political allegory story" by a soc dem without the punchline being that "I think The People are really fucking Stupid actually"] [i do enjoy the side point of british politicians being so desperate for relevancy that they fire nuclear missiles for the fun of it. yeah… that tracks]

[lol becoming independent from nato being a bad thing. lol #"fucklybia!!"#signed:thisepisode]

the directing is very fun in this

Ruby get on your feets and make it happen

She's gonna say u forgot to say hi to this lady

ruby's asking to be shot again sksks

Iris u say…........ eyes emoji

[ok but also. lol not to go " ah, peak liberal again!" but lol. this resolution is peak liberal [ie. fundamentally antidemocratic, a few 1% technocrats (obvs, privileged and from the global north) with the answers "know what's best"]. this lad may have been crazy but they voted for him for a reason that "the system" wasnt providing.but in typical soc dem fashion they can't ever fight the fascists on The Real Deal ie. strength of a proposed political project + material gains resulted from those political projects + committing to real system change, so they have to scramble for antidemocratic solutions like [timey wimey prisons] to ""fight facism""" (ie not fighting it at all and by proxy, just making the fucking cockroaches stronger each "election cycle" because they can't fight them in a meaningful, political sense) bc the people are just too stupid!!! and this is why democracy was a mistake!!!!!!! ... sigh rtd. oh well good thing i didn't expect more on this front tbh sdlkjfdsd in that sense the s1-s4 rewatch prepared me well lol]

clara vibes in this ep in a lot of moments (old!ruby, sort of "mausoleum tardis", etc)

"i didnt travel with him long..." "but it felt like a lifetime" became literal…

"Everyone has abandoned me my whole life" T_T

AESOP #2: kids u are never alone <3 u always have ur inner demons :) and the unrelenting spectra of death~

There's always something a bit unsatisfying about self closing paradoxes... kinda like "oh it was all a dream so it didnt matter". but i think in this one it was crunchy enough with other things that i think it was balanced.

Very turn left-y ending! CONCLUSIONS!! people kept saying in the press this episode was gonna be "super scary" tbh i just found it.... profoundly sad sdxkljflkfj ruby's life just *screams* "missing the important bits by focusing on the unimportant" and "obsessing over things that don't matter" and "companion becomes detached from real life to the point they become super unhinged and callous" ("im sorry i couldn't help you marti")

(c+p some stuff i put on a discord): tbh i rolled my eyes at the political stuff but i don't think im even mad about it this time lol (too tired irl to get properly angry at doctor who these days ig)

anyway i dont think the political stuff is what it was really "about". i found this story very moving on what it was (imo) rlly about: ruby's fear and experience of being abandoned and also the general "fear of approaching death"

and obvs a bit of other emotional beats that are more specific to doctor who's long running stories: like the doctor "always does this" ie leaves everyone of his friends behind and there's the lingering tragedy that this will happen, as well, to ruby inevitably, then also both ruby and the doc becoming 'detached' from real life (ruby basically never investing anything in those relationships w/ those guys bc she was 'absorbed' by this mystery /clearly a parallel to her being absorbed by her parental origin) and also how tourists cant watch where they step / the doctor and co arent always respectful to the 'silly traditions' of the places they visit (tbh excellent bc to overcome my "this show has the white man's burden' engraved in its dna" meta... the show is gonna have to keep making story like and like Demons of Punjab for at least 3 more decades lol) (basically tldr i think it fumbled the politics stuff but it was rlly crunchy where it mattered. also, ....... i think this pretty much confirms that ruby isn't her own mother / the person who let herself at the door step in Christmas, right??? like rtd had said was the short story he had concocted years ago, and was the insp for this... but he kinda used up that trick here… so it must be something/someone else, right?) (another thing: ruby going "i used to be able to make it snow" made smth click....... ---> if ruby's whole focus rn seems to be about "the mystery", and this quest seems to be not only something she *needs* but also something that like... means joy and adventure, and traveling with the doctor... when she finds out the Truth,,, that probably means all the whimsy in her life will go away? (so she may come to a point where she Doesn't want to know Actually (which would be very "thirteen regretting throwing away the watch" realness mirror again)

[the-larxist-manifesto]

GameGirl36 ~ Super Mario Land 2: 6 Golden Coins (1992)

Can we just admire this box art for a second? Mario games have a knack for the whimsical, but there are few that spark the imagination as bright as this. The fish eye lens gives you the feeling that you're peeping into the world inside your GameBoy; so small that it all fits in this one vortex of action, but so vast that every inch is covered in details to admire and wonder about. Older Mario games in particular tapped into that sense of wonder so effectively because, well... what IS any of this stuff? I've never seen that particular boxing shark before! Why is there another island-sized Mario in the background? The moon is out during the daytime?

We do take for granted how strange the Mario world is to begin with; walking mushroom people probably shouldn't feel so normal to us. But due to how standardized Mario's brand is nowadays, it throws you for a loop to see him jumping off of a bomb turtle in front of his own castle. These details just don't line up with who he's been in the latest games. No, these older Mario games showcase a cartoony, plastic version of Mario that is stretched and squashed to fit whatever mood Nintendo was in that year.

Today, we're talking about one of the masterpieces of the GameBoy. I have played it before, so this entry will be less raw and reaction-based than usual. My goal is to explain what sets this one apart from the other millions of Marios that you could be playing right now.

Take a shot every time I say "Mario" for a fun and moderate drinking game! /j

~Guided tour of Mario Land~

This game feels like playing a Saturday morning cartoon many ways, including the plot. Since the developers were forced to come up with a reason for Mario to be scuttling around in the rafters of your home wearing rabbit ears, they settled on creating a brand new world and villain for this game only. After the events of the first Super Mario Land, Mario returns home(?) to "Mario land." Here, he presumably lives in peace with the giant birds and turtles and toy robot clone of himself in his castle at the center of the island. Just... when did Mario get so bougie? His own island? His own CASTLE? Always thought of him as a more modest guy, myself.

Either way, Mario is met with a nasty surprise when everyone in Mario land turns against him upon his return. Everything he loves is taken away and twisted into a flipped-around funhouse mirror of what he remembers by his arch-rival... Wario. (Yes, this is Wario's introduction to the Mario series as a whole!)

World map included with the game manual!

Okay, so now we have our reasoning as to why everything is so weird, and we have to set it back to normal. I like the larger plot subtext that this game implies about Mario villains—while Bowser often employs brute force with merciless fiery obstacle courses and an organized army, this escapade has Wario written all over it. The enemies feel like scrounged-together mercenaries he purchased on the cheap, and each world is some bizarre head trip; like the whole adventure is a giant prank on Mario. Wario is a truly disturbed little goblin man.

To win the day, Mario must journey to all six zones, defeat their corrupted bosses, and collect the titular six golden coins. Once they are all collected, he can once again enter his castle and beat up the man child that wrecked everything.

UGH, as goofy as it is, I genuinely love cartoony space aesthetics in old games .-~*

YouTube comments, everyone. They're not wrong, though

~Weird to watch, weirder to play~

This adventure does technically follow the typical formula for a Mario platformer, but with some... strange twists. Much like Mario land itself, the controls introduce and remove a lot of staples willy-nilly, in such a way that I never quite felt comfortable controlling it. To be perfectly clear, I like this disorienting and unique effect. It's one of those things that sets classic Mario games apart most from the modern entries. I'm gonna lightning-round the weird changes I'm talking about, exclusive to this one game:

Defeating 100 enemies awards an item, shown by a counter on the HUD

Press select on the file screen for easy mode

The player loses ALL golden coins upon game over

High jump by holding up on the d-pad and jumping

Spin jump by holding down on the d-pad while jumping

Spin jump can open ? blocks from above

Jump continuously by holding the jump button (only with Bunny Mario, though, for some reason)

Neither koopa shell kicks nor continuous enemy jumps award 1-ups (but stars still do!)

Not all of its uniqueness is completely random, however. As you might expect, this game does share some DNA with its direct prequel, Super Mario Land. For example, the game does not freeze when collecting a powerup, instead allowing the player to move while Mario's body stretches or squashes into its new form. The end-of-level goals split into an upper and lower part, with the upper being a skill check that awards the player a powerup minigame. Though most of the soundtrack is original, it borrows some ideas from its predecessor: the invincibility theme similarly differs from The Famous One, and SML2 recycles the unique underground theme from Super Mario Land for the haunted house level! I thought that was a very subtle but neat reference; it's an ambient theme catchy enough to deserve at least two games.

The entire soundtrack sets the golden standard for GB music; pop on this 30 minutes of merry melodies for your next walk

~Lil guys~

Next, I just want to show off some highlights from this game's art style by lining up my favorite lil guys I ran across. SML2 definitely has an all-around Hannah-Barbara type feel, with lots of down-to-earth concepts stylized to look more alive and dynamic. The moon gets moody, the distant islands frown at you, and the tiling of Mario's castle halls have teeny goomba likenesses trapped inside of them.

I'm seriously in love with the stylistic choice of "add tiny eyeballs to otherwise unremarkable background object"

Little witchy tongue~! :P

~Conclusion~

Now, I acknowledge that not every Mario platformer is a remarkable game. I will not be the first or last person to tell you that many entries in the series feel like rehashes of the same ol', same ol'. With all the hundreds of Mario games out there, it can be difficult to sift through and find the most unique and worthwhile ones. Super Mario Land 2: 6 Golden Coins is the game you are looking for. (And if I had to provide a short list, also write down SMB3, SMWorld, NewSMB, and SMBWonder)

Do I recommend it? Yesss please play it!

100% completion of this game only took me 5 hours, so even if it is a waste of your time, at least it's a small amount of your time! ^^; (For completion, by the way, you just have to reach every level exit. There are 38 in total, including secret exits and the bonus levels that you unlock through these secrets)

I fw with the NSO gameboy color and LCD filters

Alright, we're cooking through this row of GB games! Only two games to go... and the next one promises to be unique on a whole different level...

Thank you very much for reading.

~Lark Lyke

[mashas-rotting]

Queen of hearts

This is a slow burn with Mira and the reader, timeline is sometime before arisu and usagi get to the beach. There will be heavy smut later. Possible threesome. Also if you want a list of the books Mira recommended lmk

Warnings: f/f, drinking, mentions of blood and choking cannon typical death.

Sitting in the back corner of the library reading was how you ended most nights. You didn't like being around people for long periods of time unless you were drunk, and even drunk the men were annoying. This was especially true since you were required to wear a bathing suit at all times and your body filled out a two piece in ways that made most people suspect you were a porn star in the real world. They were wrong though. Most of the inhabitants of the beach were uninteresting. Which is why you were here, sitting on a black leather chair with your legs curled up beside you.

"I wasn't expecting anyone to be here." You look up to see Mira brightly smiling at you. "Why aren't you drinking with everyone else?" She questions, tilting her head to the side. "I do sometimes, but they're all so boring. Predictable. Books are far more interesting." You reply setting your book down. "Exactly! The best way to learn about the human heart is to study all the different ones in books. I find that most authors write what they want to be and not who they are, but the best books are the honest ones. Filthy thoughts and actions decorating page after page." Mira shifts slightly as she says this as if it excites her. "I'd love some recommendations." You say smiling, taking note of her delicate body. Mira always wore a cover over her bathing suits but that did little to stop you from imagining what was under all of it when you saw her at the executive meetings. "Oh? That's right youre a hearts player too. How fun!" She claps her hands. "I'll bring some by your room later. I'll let you finish your book now. Sorry for interrupting." She waves and leaves.

Strange woman, that one. You couldn't deny your interest though. Mira is beautiful and twisted. And she would look beautiful twisted in your sheets. Sex and relationships were pointless in the borderlands though and you figured she wouldn't bother with those things when she played games almost every night. Not that you would risk something like that anyways.

Although, Mira seemed to be the only person besides you who actually enjoyed the games. Sure niragi had fun, but he had fun killing. That had nothing to do with the games themselves. Last boss enjoyed the freedom the borderlands offered, but still the games themselves offered him little joy.

The library was big, not huge, but you and a few others regularly went on trips to gather new books to add to the collection. Normally you liked having the room to yourself, but as you went back to reading to thought it would be nice to have Mira reading beside you. You decided to invite her next time you saw her.

When you went back to your room there was a white gift bag with one glittery red heart on the center of it sitting in front of your door.

The next day you woke up later than usual. Mira must have been busy because you couldn't seem to run into her. Which is why you found yourself at the bar drinking tequila shots by midnight and shutting down everyone who tried to join you. That is until Kuina came up to you.

"Those aren't water you know." She said with a hand on her hip. "They're not? Then why am I not drunk yet?" You reply with exaggerated frustration. "If you're trying to get drunk we should try a drinking game." She said raising an eyebrow in a challenge. "What did you have in mind?" You reply not minding the intrusion. You'd hung out with kuina before and, while she wasn't a hearts player, she wasn't the worst company. On the rare occasion you did go drinking she was normally you drinking buddy.

"Never have I ever?" She suggests. You burst out laughing. "Yaah that'll do it." You say grabbing a bottle of tequila and walking with her over to a couple couches where the music wasn't as loud. "Never have I ever spit." You start. "Does it count if it came out your nose?" Kuina says and you both giggle. "It's a drinking game so yes it counts." Kuina pores her shot and quickly downs it with a shiver. "Never have I ever had sex in public." She says. You take a shot then say "Who decided all the questions have to be about sex?" "God probably." Kuina replies as she takes another shot. "You didn't have to take that one ya know." You tell her. "Never have I ever kissed a girl." Someone says sitting on the couch on the opposite side of the coffee table.

"Oh I've done a lot more than kiss a girl," you say taking a shot and smiling at Mira who is holding her own bottle and sporting her usual unsettling smile. You find it appealing. Raw. Unhinged. "Never have I ever wanted to fuck an executive." Kuina says giving the two of you a knowing look. Both you and Mira smile at her, then Mira takes a shot straight from her bottle and then hands it to you. You keep eye contact as you take yours. "I didn't think you liked to drink?" kuina say to Mira. "I don't mind it, although I prefer wine. I just don't have much time to with all the games and such." She says moving her hands as she talks. "Never have I ever been in a fist fight pre-borderlands." You say. Both Kuina and Mira drink. "I don't think I can take much more of this. I'm going to dance." Kuina says as she clumsily stands and disappears into the crowded dance floor.

"Should we join her?" Mira asks but the way she says it sounds like shes asking something else. "Only if you're afraid to be alone with me." You challenge. Mira swings her legs over the coffee table and settles on the edge of it, her legs between your knees. "Not at all. Should I be?" her eyes flicker from yours to your lips. "might be more fun if you were." You breathe leaning forward slightly. "Then i think you should do something that frightens me" Mira says softly. A thousand images go through your mind. Your hand around her throat, blood running down her breast, welts on her bare ass, and that fucking smile on her face the whole time.

Before you could decide how exactly you wanted to defile her, kuina stumbled over. "I might need help back to my room." She slurred as she swayed, mira jumps at the intrusion and turned her eyes to the side without turning her head. "I guess we have other plans." Mira said cheerfully, which somehow sounded like anger on her. You chuckle and lean forward to Mira's ear. "I'd love to continue another time." You whisper then move to wrap kuinas arm over your shoulder and start towards her room.

After you get her to bed, you walk with Mira to her room in a comfortable silence. The warmth of her presence is peaceful. You wonder what she was like pre-borderlands. Apparently someone who used to fight you think smiling. "What are you thinking?" Mira asks breaking the silence. "How often did you fight back in the normal world?" She looks surprised, it's the first time you've seen this expression on her. "Oh, just once in grade school. I was never a big fighter. I've always used ones heart to get what I want rather than physical violence." She answers looking lost in thought.

"Do you plan to use my heart to get what you want?" You say amused. Mira stops walking and turns towards you, brushing her fingers along your hand. "What if your heart is what I want?" She asks after a moment. You step closer and lean in slowly. "Have you really never kissed a woman before?" You softly ask, running your thumb over her bottom lip. She shakes her head and opens her mouth slightly. "Would you like to?" You ask realizing you have her backed against a wall with one hand on the wall behind her, the other now tilting her chin up to look at you. "Yes." Mira whispers and you lean down pressing your lips against hers. She grabs your hips and pulls you into her. You melt into each other slowly. The throbbing between your legs has you grinding your thigh between hers. The friction making Mira moan into your mouth. You pull back and shes breathing heavier than normal, her cheeks rosey. Cute, you think to yourself. You'd like to see how undone you can make her.

"Something wrong?" She asks. "I'd like to make a mess of you." You take her delicate hand and kiss the top of it. "But it's 4 in the morning and you deserve all night. I'm afraid we'll have to take a raincheck." You hold her hand against your cheek. Mira huffs a bit but doesn't object and you almost laugh at her annoyance but think better of it.

Once you reach Mira's room she stands at her door looking conflicted. You cup her face with one hand and say "would you come to library tomorrow night?"

"that's not what I thought you were going to say."

"aand what did you think I was going to say?" Mira blushes at this. It was getting easier to make her blush. You were going to have fun teasing her. As much as you liked her unhinged smile, these new reactions were exciting. "I should go to bed." She says pulling away, but before she can you pull her back to you and kiss her cheek. "Yes, you should." You leave her there touching her cheek and smiling as she watching you go.

[falling-like-fall]

STOP what if get this college!iwaizumi goes to las vegas for the first time with the seijoh 4 or just new friends he made in California??

the amount of songs I know named / that talk about california is insane. ANYWAYS I love this idea, matter of fact, ik you didn't explicitly state a fanfic but.. it was gonna happen anyways.

also theres gonna be random names inserted, idk the first names that pop in my head. apologies if this isnt quite what you're looking for :)

(hopefully there's no typos....)

FETISHIZERS DNI

(please)

iwaizumi and seijoh 4 (no set ships)

warnings: swearing, maybe a bit of angst ? depends on how you look at it

Despite all the fun he was having Iwaizumi had the hugest headache.

Whether that was because Oikawa had gotten on his nerves again or because the sun was so bright, he didn't really know.

But regardless, it was there. He had always thought of pain medicine as a sort of pointless method, but the undesired ache was starting to get to him. So he popped two tylenol's, something he had learned more about once he came to America.

Which, in hindsight, hadn't been the most pleasant adventure. Studying abroad was a tough decision the four of them (seijoh third years) decided to make, but the crave for memories drove them out west.

"You know, I heard Las Vegas is a big attraction here." Matsukawa shrugged, appearing in the doorway of Iwaizumi's room. The shorter male looked at him before nodding.

"Yea, we've been out here for a year or so... and uh, Alex had mentioned Las Vegas being huge. Glad we could finally make it out here." He said, standing up and stretching.

"Yea. Oikawa hasn't shut up about the lore of this place, seems like he really read into it. He's entertaining the others right now, per usual. I came in to see what was taking you so long." Matsukawa said, his normal bland tone shining through.

"It was nothing, small headache." He explained with another nod. Which is typically how Mattsun's and his convos went, a nod every other sentence.

"Well I'm assuming you're better now, they wanted to play a game of volleyball today, and you know how Tooru gets." Another nod from iwaizumi.

"Right. Yea, I am."

"Iwa," Tooru started. "Don't get too ahead of yourself alright? It's a big place, you might get lost." He teased, a smug look on his face.

"Don't you get distracted either, I know how you get around boys." He shot back almost too nonchalantly, sitting down between Hanamaki and Ethan. His comment caused a few stifled laughs.

"Don't start going at each others throats now," Mauricio laughed. his normal boisterous one. Oikawa nodded and Hajime sighed, but both ultimately agreed.

"Right. Now let's get on the road, shall we?" Alex asked, the others saying (or shouting) an agreement in unison.

Vegas was another journey checked off their lists. Iwaizumi couldn't help but feel nostalgic driving down the highway with the windows down, music blaring. It almost made him cry (almost), but he would never admit that. For now, he took the Cali sunrise with him, and woke up with the fondest memories.

[quick-drawn-a]

     @chronal-anomaly​ asked:

What does Jesse do with his time off? Given, say, two weeks off - no missions, no responsibilities, just him and some free time - what would he do? Does he travel somewhere? Blow off steam around base? Does he sit still during these times, or does he crave other stimulus that he usually gets from missions?

          though jesse’s never truly off the clock, he ENJOYS his down time, however rare it does come around.

     despite popular belief, he’s actually quite the busy man. he plays a lot of different rolls around base and within the team, and he takes that responsibility very SERIOUSLY ( in most aspects ) — which, in turn, makes his usual day to day extremely taxing both mentally and physically, even when he’s not deployed.

          the “ lazy ” stigma and general consensus among his coworkers wasn’t necessarily a shot in the dark, however. i’m sure it would quite easily come across that way seeing as most of his down time is spent SLEEPING.

     he’ll make plans to go out, agree to parties or just meet up with friends for a few drinks — and you’ll never have a single doubt that he’ll make it. he’s a man of his word after all. HOWEVER — one could bet he’ll be asleep within the hour and they’ll win EVERY TIME. it’s particularly bad post mission — jesse claiming he’s not “built” for time zone hopping as much as he does...

     while it’s typically against his will, he can still appreciate a good nap here and there and being able to sit back and just relax every now and then. he was always fond of SILENCE, being able to kick his feet up and just take in the moment — at least, he did back on the farm. it was different here on base. perhaps it was because the silence was DIFFERENT — probably didn’t help that genuine breaks like that were so sparse, it’s really when he started to develop those itchy feet of his. it’s why now he’d much rather do some of the other things he finds fun and interesting.

     if he has to entertain himself, you can usually catch him playing some sort of video game — mainly shooters, but he also has quite a few strategy and puzzle games he enjoys playing, along with the occasional card simulator ( variations of poker ). he also has a few TV shows he tries to keep up with, should he have enough time. and you can still find him in the gym and at the range during these breaks — he enjoys them both enough that it doesn’t quite feel like work to him. once he gets over not wanting to leave base, he’ll take day trips around the coast on his bike, but not heading anywhere in particular.

     if he manages to find some ( good ) company ? he’s probably still doing those things — BUT he’s fairly open minded and is willing to tag along to most stores, bars, clubs, parks, etc. if they had something else in mind. he’s found he’s a pretty big fan of karaoke this way...

          HOWEVER, all of that being said —

     too much of any of these things and he IS going to go stir-crazy. as i mentioned earlier, he has become accustomed to just WORKING, and once a certain amount of time passes by where he doesn’t, he gets antsy. and if it goes on long enough, he’ll no longer find any of those things entertaining enough — and that’s when you’ll find him in reyes’ office practically BEGGING for an assignment.

          so, TL;DR: he’s pretty chill about it until he isn’t.

[stemmmm]

the CPS man is writing about CPS again

this part has been so boring i've not really had anything to say lmao. this stuff will certainly be important in the future but my goodness i really don't care about the way that maria and ange were both comically abused. it is simply unfun to read. it is interesting however, the way that ange's denial of magic as a teenager was translated back to something she said to the Real Alive maria and we're discussing how that may have impacted what happened in 1986.

in regards to maria's shit, all i have to say is that its insane no one called the child welfare office on rosa sooner, and even more insane for rosa to still have custody after doing all that shit IN FRONT OF THE WELFARE AGENT????? if that never gets covered again it would make more sense because you cant argue rosa's case after having that tantrum in front of another human being. and with a shitload of witnesses to all the other neglect on top of that!! oh my god!

where I'm at now is ange's on the boat to rokkenjima talking to the 7 sisters about how she doesn't believe in magic despite summoning them and its. really funny. yeah i dont believe you exist one fucking bit but someone out there does so why not. i get what its saying about being open minded but this is the most nonsensical argument for open mindedness i may have ever seen.

BATTLER I MISSED YOU SO MUCH I COULD CRY. PLEASE MAKE THINGS FUN AGAIN !!!!!! AND BRING BEATO WITH YOU! OH YES THERE SHE IS, BEATO MY LOVE. KICK HIS ASS!

its SO funny when battler says fuck. i feel like translators never use that one

beato's kinzo strat is...... that HE gave maria the umbrella and note? fucked. fucked. genius.

THE BUILDUP WAS SO LONG. SO FUNNY. *BOOM* here's kinzo :)

alright so last time it was ALL about the epitaph, this time we're saying fuck that don't bother. ok i'm game. this dude really wanted his kids to kill each other their entire lives tho huh. this feels like its leading to him throwing those old guns at them again and saying "go buckwild you animals"

i love that the "is your kid worth 10 billion yen" answer for battler is nah the dude sucks lmao. pog.

"my last wish is for all of my stupid, worthless children to eat shit and die!"

NOW UH. SUMMONING DEMONS ISNT EXACTLY A THING THAT I WOULD SAY KINZO HAS EVER BEEN CAPABLE OFF AND I KIND OF FEEL LIKE BEATO WOULD CORROBORATE THAT.

"gaap? 🤨" hilarious reaction. cant wait to see who or what gaap is-

oh christ alive i take it back. put her away.

a thought has occurred that you could make a great tabletop game out of this. im sure people already have, it'd be insane if they didn't. it would be like, a level 100 GM kind of thing to do because there's so much to account for but to do a cyclical murder-mystery where the GM is essentially beato sounds like a great time.

i've also pieced together that rokkenjima slipping farther into the spirit world exists both as a tool to make the story wild and wacky and bring in more characters, but also to distract from the actual matter at hand. like i've pieced it together properly probably because it's being addressed directly and i typically need something to be brought up before i go like "oh yeah THAT'S what it's about" and then I piece it together immediately before i advance the dialogue and am confirmed on it. but if it were the exact same scenario every time it would be easy to solve, so we have different courses of events. then to keep you from engaging too much, the extra wacky characters and magic AKA "noise" are introduced. this iteration of the story feels instantly like it's going to be super cut and dry because kinzo's here ordering the shots and will probably live to the end along with the kids. you could argue at the first twilight, the servants were all ordered to kill 6 people and it got botched which is why genji died, and later when the servants die, they could have been ordered to kill themselves. beato will, obviously, say that isn't the case when it shows up, if it shows up. since i get the feeling things are gonna be pretty hidden and there won't be so much of a mystery going on as much as kinzo's test for the kids. if the test IS the mystery, then... we'll see !

theyre going to be whipping their dicks out battler. get ready for it

AND she's bisexual! well! love loses in my mind but im sure someone wants her.

episode 4 post, starting with my current theory

ep1 ep2 ep3

lambda so kindly revealed to us and reminded beato that she gave beato her power, beato is not a real witch. interesting, given that beato claims to be a thousand years old but we'll ignore that for now. lambda insists that beato has to keep battler in this game for as long as possible or else, because she wants to keep bern trapped for as long as possible, so we've got a new goal post popping in yet again. beato not only wants to defeat battler and make him admit she's a witch, but now she has to wear him down more slowly too and there's even more pressure on the fact that he must not ever win.

this is further complicated by ange coming in with the intent to solve the case and save the family on rokkenjima as fast as possible and not fuck around. its funny timing considering the last game was the first one where battler was actually playing in a way where he could bring himself to blame family members and therefore... actually get somewhere with it. feels a little mean to him to come around the instant he's got his shit together and be like "you suck at this. move out of the way" but he took it well and honestly, he's not in any rush like she is

because in conflict with all of this is the fact that beato and battler are absolutely both losing the plot. they've both become way more invested in the other person's emotions and wellbeing in a very visible way. battler came to her rescue despite being mad at her and beato cheerfully burst into the room to try and lift the mood when she was lied to that battler was in a bad way. (chefs kiss to that btw)

so this is all the observation, what's the theory? there is a chance that... since beato is still pushing hard for battler to affirm she's a witch, that doing that may somehow give her real power. at this point I'm pretty squarely on the magic is real side, bern and lambda are pretty firmly and obviously real witches with actual power. bern declaring ange a witch (especially after ange apparently trained herself as one) and bringing her over has all but completely confirmed that for me. however, the argument that we've been having isn't really "is magic real"... it's "is beatrice a witch", and given that her powers apparently aren't her own, it seems that she's actually not. the ritual exists as a way to give beato real powers... potentially. this may not even be true, but she does get stronger each time it's successful so there could be something to that.

my additional source for this theory is the red truth that we couldn't hear used against evatrice. perhaps she wasn't saying that witches and magic weren't real for any reason, but that evatrice's powers weren't real or her own. "you couldn't do any of that magic stuff because you don't actually have powers, I did all of that" or something. after all, in the end of their fight before battler showed up, the servants were all saying that beato was the true golden witch in a pretty confusing matter. the only thing that makes it hard for me to believe beato was so deep into it that every single thing was an act is the fact that we've been shown very clearly that she can't lie well. even if she didn't say so herself (which she has), the magnificent facial expression swapping she does makes it particularly blatant. that makes it hard to say exactly how much of the last arc was trickery vs how much she was genuinely struggling. my view of it is that she did in fact hand over her borrowed powers, not expecting it to break quite so bad, and when she got through to the end on pure dumb luck, she flipped the script to make it look like she didn't just barely scrape through.

in short... this is lambda's game. we're just playing it

now for my next question: does virgilia actually exist or what

[lutawolf]

Unforgotten Night (2022) Ep 1

My brat with a British accent wanted to write this together. Her once again covering the sub and me covering the Dom. I told her that she was a sadist and this was supposed to be bad. Iffy "noooooo, no, I'm just a special word for someone who wants you to suffer with me" You will be able to find the lovely iffy's companion post here.

It didn't help that I got so many requests to watch this. I think some of you are sadists. Is there something about doing this to a sadist that turns you on?? I included the Coconuts Mafia in my torture because if I'm going to take one, then the team should too. Thank you so much for the support and commentary! @biochemjess @suga4mycoffee read here @mematryoshkame @minisculecosmos @hereiswhereitbegan28 @akitbeast and their commentary here and Pebee. Also make sure to read @feralpansexual bdsm red flags post here

For those that know nothing about the series and this is your first time hearing about it: Kim (sub), a 25 year old office worker, has been in one sided love with his senior, Day, for a a long time. To forget about him and move on, he decides to have one night stand with a random stranger he met at the bar. What he didn't know was the stranger would start liking him to the point of no return. Kamol (Dom/Sadist), a 30 year old mafia, has some special needs in bed and so he keeps switching partners but no one is able to satisfy him. One night he meets Kim, who perfectly meets his needs. Right at that moment, Kamol decided to make the man his own.

Promo Poster

Seriously guys, what the fuck is that picture above. His FACE. "When you want to be tied up, but the idiot you're fucking doesn't know how to do it properly." I would like to be on the side of the Dom here but I can just hear the sub saying "Gotta do everything my damn self" Also, why are they using a glorified shoelace?? I mean, I haven't even started the episode yet and I'm dead. Where is the chemistry? What is it with these poses? They feel like their about to give a beginner's class in couples yoga with fun accessories.

Episode 1

So begins my drinking habit, I mean watch. No really, this turned into a drinking game. I took a shot every time a sub cries. I was tipsy by the end of the show. There was torture... Of the audience kind. Ellen DeGeneres shoes, constantly running water taps, 80's music and a horrible English breakfast with anemic sausage. On the plus side, I laughed a lot. I highly recommend as a group hate watch.

We meet Kamol as a "business tycoon" and you can tell they are trying to set an air of arrogance and command. The typical portrayal of a Dom. I didn't feel it though. I was deeply underwhelmed, he really wasn't giving strong power vibes. Ohhh, the ominous whisper "Something big is coming up." I'm all a flutter. Also, this might be an American thing but he just gave the weakest hang shake ever. As a Dom, I would be embarrassed. That's the one area where it is completely acceptable to have a pissing contest and you just barely held finger.

The next scene shows a weeping and marked up submissive. I've got no issue with one night stands but you still put the work in. Not only should there have been respect for limits but also aftercare. Instead he leaves him and has his bodyguards take him out. Can we get more Dom low class?

Why, yes we can "They always say they can take it but they never last" Yeah, okay. He wasn't any more satisfied than you buddy, so who is the real problem here? That's just stupid. You don't pick someone off the street and go, lets do a little whip and tickle. It takes a masochist to like pain and every masochist likes a different type of pain. This is like me asking if someone likes ice cream and then making them eat the flavor that's my favorite. Dumbass, I said I like ice cream, doesn't mean I like that ice cream.

We have a lot of weepy sub scenes. Then the girls aka assistants, take their boss to the bar. I don't know how they thought this was a good idea. The music alone would cause me to cry and drink too much. However, it's at the bar that Kamol (aka shoelace Pillsbury Ceo) shows up and notices Kim. Finally we have the moment they meet. In a bathroom, because the mafia apparently really appreciate bathrooms.

Kim is stumbling drunk into the bathroom and Kamol thinks this is a brilliant. Follows him into the bathroom. Where we have the conversation of,

Kim "Are you starting at me"

Pillsbury "I'm staring at you"

Kim "you interested"

Pillsbury "Yes, you caught my eye"

All why the mother fucking water facet is going!!!

Weepy Sub "in that case can you help me forget him"

Pillsbury "As long as you can tolerate it" 🙄🙄 Because yes, I like chocolate chip ice cream and so will you! 🤦🏻‍♀️

Weepy "No problem, you can do whatever you want" that's a good way to get stds kid and then you'll really have something to cry about.

Oh look! We finally have the, you're drunk, who me talk. It went as expected. Weepy sub is now up against the bathroom counter. Managing to avoid the still running water! It's torturing me! This is not my flavor of masochism! Then he calls him Baby. Which fits weepy sub. It's a very accurate pet name.

We show up at Pillsbury's place where they are magically changed into robes.... And they ones again talk about if baby is drunk. Yet they never talk about what kind of kink they are into. We apparently just gonna wing it, cause yeah that works. Guess we can blame it on him getting all hot and bothered at being called Mister. 🤦🏻‍♀️

The most consent talk we get is, you can suck this up right. And then he beaks out the Toys-R-Us cuffs that baby can easily slid right out of. He started him off real light with luke warm wax that's barely dripping. Yet we get this face.

At this point, I'm thinking boy can't handle much. Then Pillsbury breaks out a horse flogger. You guys, I wasn't expecting accuracy and if you want me to give a break down of why the flogging was so fucking God Awful that I took two shots! I can. Needless to say it was grossly inaccurate but even that doesn't match the horror of this.

Meanwhile his flogging is on the level of "I’m going to FLOG YOU……with kindness"

"W-would you like to talk to me about my childhood wounds as I whip you very gently"

On the plus side, there was a very nice, very accurate bite mark. I've got a bitting kink myself and no way THAT was fake, so kudos for that.

Then the true torture again. Dripping faucet. While Pillsbury finally gives some kind of aftercare. A bath with sweet kisses. While whispering sweet nothings of "You are the one".. It's not much but it's finally something so we'll take it.

But then baby wakes up alone to a Best Western breakfast. Is it any wonder he booked it? Maybe start acting like a Dom and taking care of your subs? Hmm.

I can't leave you without mentioning the stick on tattoo.

It shifts. For a second I thought we were going to get a shifter bl but they were just teasing. It's just a bad fake tattoo.

So there you have it. My torture is now our torture. Especially if you made it all the way through, what ever, that was that I wrote. Hope you got a few chuckles 💜💜💜

[theringers]

friends with benefits - charles leclerc

summary: type A planner best friend lives with no thoughts head empty best friend and they decide to start sleeping together

request: 37 , 70, 78 w charles😃

prompts: 37) “Please? I'll be good, I promise!" 70) “we’re just…friends.” “friends don’t do this type of shit!” 78) “Not to make things weird, but I thought about you when I came last night.”

a/n: charles, head empty no thoughts just his hot roommate and his inability to keep things to himself

warnings: nsfw, 18+, angst kinda, friends to fuck buddies, oral sex

“Could you uhhhhh do me a favor?” You asked Charles. The fuzzy blanket was draped over both of you and he was about to press play on the movie.

His eyes rolled. “What do you need, my love?” He asked in a sarcastic tone.

“Can you maybe make some popcorn?” You tried to slow your words down a bit, for some reason thinking he would be more inclined to say yes if you asked like that.

He exhaled loudly. “Fine.” He tossed the blanket over to you so he could get up off the couch. “But only because now you’ve got that thought in my mind and I want it.”

“If doing things for yourself instead of me makes you feel better, that’s okay with me.” You smiled. This was a typical weeknight for the two of you.

You were a self proclaimed movie critic. Charles just got stuck with a self proclaimed movie critic as a roommate, but it made for some entertaining nights.

The two of you met in high school and immediately formed a bond. Everything between you two was easygoing and laid back, which he loved. He was never a huge people person or party type and neither were you.

You found peace in each other’s silent company and eventually realized you had more in common than you first thought. That following summer, you did practically everything together. Charles had a couple girlfriends here and there and you had a couple boyfriends as well, but it didn’t really matter. Nothing ever stuck.

College rolled around and you weren’t sure what to do. You wanted to stay in Monaco close to your family, but you just couldn’t live at home anymore. Lucky for you, Charles offered to let you move into his spare bedroom until you could make a decision. It had been years and you were still in that spare bedroom. The thought of moving out and doing something different hadn’t crossed your mind since the day you moved in.

“Do you want butter or no butter?” He asked from the kitchen, hands full of popcorn bags.

“Come on is that even a question?”

“Right. Butter. Lots of it.” He threw the bag into the microwave and it started to pop.

He came back with a bowl full of steaming popcorn and handed it to you.

“Be careful it’s,” he looked at you to see your mouth wide open and steam coming out, “hot.”

“Almost hotter than you,” you said once you caught your breath.

He rolled his eyes and fake laughed. “Hilarious, y/n.”

“I’m being serious.”

“C’mon, we’ve talked about this.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I think you’re hot,” you said. Every time this was brought up, he got so flustered. Which was why you continued to joke around with him and flirt with him. He would never act on it.

“Y/n…. I’m gonna go to bed if you keep this up.” He was annoyed.

“I’m sorry. Please stay? I’ll be good, I promise.” You batted your eyelashes at him.

“Fine, but you gotta stop,” he said, pulling your legs onto his lap so you could lounge more comfortably.

A rom-com was playing on the TV and the sound of munching on popcorn was filling the room.

A long distance relationship played out on the screen. Lots of phone calls, lots of phone sex, lots of jerking off to each other’s photos. You shifted in your seat, trying to seem casual and not uncomfortable.

“Not to make things weird, but I thought about you when I came last night.” You stopped shifting and looked at Charles.

“So much for ‘we’ve talked about this’.” You held up air quotes. “Care to elaborate?” He was known for saying out of pocket things. Sometimes you weren’t sure if he fully thought things through before he said them.

“I mean, not really. The movie just reminded me of it.”

You couldn’t think of a response quick enough so he continued to talk. “You always say whatever’s on your mind so I thought I might try it out.”

“You don’t do that enough already?”

“I’m trying to be more honest.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes at him. “I applaud you for that. But you can’t just leave me hanging like this.”

“Don’t hate me, that’s all I’m going to say.” His hand rubbed up and down your shins that were resting on his lap.

“I could never hate you, Charles.”

“Last night when you took a shower, you left the bathroom door wide open. I was just walking back to my room from the kitchen, I didn’t mean to-”

You laughed and interrupted him. “Charles, it’s okay. That’s my fault.”

“I just glanced, I promise. But I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind. And my cock was still really hard after a while.”

“You knew I was awake, you should have come to my room,” you said. It sounded good in theory but if you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn’t know what to do if he showed up at your bedroom door with a boner.

“We’re just friends though. Friends don’t do that type of shit.” He took a deep breath and looked off in the distance. Anything to avoid eye contact.

“Says who?” He looked at you and tilted his head in confusion. “A lot of friends do that type of shit. There’s even a word for it.”

“Have you thought about this before?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t… Charles, we’re two young twenty somethings that live together. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about what it would be like if we were sleeping together.”

“I don’t mean this in a bad way but I honestly didn’t think about it until I saw you.”

“Maybe it’s just the hopeless romantic in me.” You had thought about what a perfect storyline it would make for you two to sleep together but never the reality of actually getting into bed with him. Now that made you nervous.

“More like the horny romantic”

“Very funny…” You tossed a piece of popcorn at him and he swatted it away.

“So, are we doing this thing?” He turned his attention from the TV to you.

“Tell me you didn’t just actually ask me that question.” He was blunt and never beat around the bush.

“I did, and I would like an answer, please.” You wanted to smack that stupid smile off of his face for how he was making you feel.

“What’s this thing?” He needed to spell it out.

“Are you,” he pointed to you, “going to let me,” his finger moved to himself, “inside of you?”

You burst out laughing. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty. We need to set some ground rules for this.”

“Rules?” He didn’t look like he was a fan of rules. And as his roommate, you knew he wasn’t a fan of them. Just ask the groceries you’ve gone shopping for two months in a row.

“Our friendship, our cohabitation, you know. I’m not just going to let you go willy nilly on me without making sure you aren’t going to leave me friendless or homeless after.” Nothing could be done with you unless it was carefully planned. All possible outcomes had to be thought through.

“I would never leave you friendless or homeless.”

“Even if I was the worst person at sex, in the world, ever?”

“I highly doubt you’re the worst, but even if you were.”

“You’d still fuck me, even if everyone in the entire world was better than me. Damn I’m lucky.”

“Here’s a rule for you. You need to tell me how it feels. I’ll fuck you however you want to be fucked so you better tell me when something feels good.” Charles said.

“I can do that. If you like something I do, tell me. If you don’t, tell me.” You talked a big game but telling Charles how he made you feel sexually made your spine tingle, and you weren’t sure if it was anxiety or desire.

“I doubt there’s anything you can do to my body that I won’t like.” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. He was a guy after all.

“You wanna bet?” You asked, lunging at him jokingly.

“Sure, I’d like to see you try.”

“I guess I will, then.” You just needed time to plan it first.

He stood up and held out his hand for you to take. “Now that we’ve talked about it, I can’t get it off my mind.”

“You want to do this, right now?” Panic set in. This was too sudden.

“Right now,” he said, confidently. “If, that’s what you want, of course.”

“Okay.” You followed him into the hallway, bypassing your bedroom and ending up in his.

You took a few shy steps around, like you’d never been in there before. “Do you want to get on top or do you want me to?”

“Y/n…” He needed you to just relax and let go.

“Right, right, let’s just do it.” You took a step forward and he grabbed your face in his hands. Your lips moved with his, feeling soft and warm. There was only so much in your life you could plan. This was never part of it.

He slowly guided you to his bed and gently pushed you backwards. His shirt slid over his head and you admired his body, looking at him in a different light. He never took his shirt off around you with sexual intentions but this was new. And fun.

You smiled at him, both of you acknowledging what you were about to do. It made you explode inside thinking about how much you were enjoying this, letting someone else take control and letting go. You shouldn’t be enjoying this, you thought. Snap out of it.

“Before we start, is there anything you really don’t like?” He asked, reaching for the button of your denim shorts. You nodded side to side, giving him permission to pull the shorts down your legs.

He immediately pulled your thong aside and slipped a finger between your folds. He smiled feeling the wetness. “Thinking about us fucking is turning you on, isn’t it?”

“Don’t embarrass me,” you shot him a look and he understood.

“I’m not embarrassing you. It’s sexy.” He kneeled between your legs on the floor.

“Well, keep it to yourself,” you said.

“Why would I keep it to myself when I have physical proof that thinking about us is turning you on?” One of his fingers easily slid inside of you and your hips shifted as you rolled your eyes at him. “Is this okay?” He asked, concerned by your movements.

“Yes,” you said, unsure of what else to say. You didn’t want to give him any more ammo to make fun of you. You told each other everything but this was one side of you he never saw, and you didn’t think he ever would. Vulnerability at its finest, but you agreed to this.

His finger moved in and out of you and the sounds of your wet pussy made you want to cover your face and hide. He added a second and slowly curled his fingers up to hit your g-spot. A soft moan escaped your lips despite the fact that you were trying hard to keep them to yourself.

“Tell me how it feels.” He said.

“It feels,” you took a moment to breathe in, “so good.” He used his other hand to play with your clit, causing you more pleasure. You were looking at the ceiling, finding it hard to acknowledge that Charles was the one making you feel like this. If you squeezed your eyes shut hard enough, maybe this wouldn’t be something you needed to worry about.

A euphoric feeling began to build in your stomach, your legs slowly going numb in the best way possible. You continued to try and hold in your moans but when you hit your climax, everything was uncontrollable. Your body jerked and moans fell as you rode out your high.

You opened your eyes to see Charles pulling his fingers out and smiling. He made you feel that way and while you lay half naked on his bed post-orgasm, it was starting to feel okay. How much more vulnerable could you get with him than this?

He stood up and pulled his sweatpants off, his hard cock springing out of his cotton boxers. Your jaw dropped and you couldn’t help but stare as he stroked himself, preparing for you. He noticed, but ignored it, granting your request of not embarrassing you. The look he shot you was enough to know that he was aware of your stares.

“I’m only gonna say it one more time,” he said, leaning on top of you with his hands on either side of your head. “You need to tell me how it feels, or I’m going to start talking really dirty with you.”

You laughed, feeling more relaxed than before. “I almost want to keep quiet on purpose just to see that.”

He dipped his head in disappointment. “Not funny.”

“I think I’m pretty funny.”

“You are, but I want to make you feel good. I’d rather know then instead of you telling me I sucked after.”

“Okay, okay,” you obliged. He nodded and positioned himself at your entrance, slowly pushing himself inside of you.

You had to adjust to his size - his dick was nothing like his fingers. He didn’t give you much time before he started moving and you didn’t even care. He felt so good inside of you and seeing his body on top of you was putting you at ease rather than stressing you out, like you had expected it to.

His head rested in the crook of your neck, giving you perfect access to his ear. Almost like he did it on purpose, to make you more comfortable. You didn’t have to look at him in the eyes and admit how good he was making you feel. “Your dick feels so good,” you whispered in his ear and he grunted in response.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” he said into your ear, slightly nibbling on the lobe.

His hips moved rhythmically while you lifted your feet onto his back to change the angle. You couldn’t help but let more moans slip out at the feeling. “I think I’m gonna cum,” you said, quietly.

“Let go,” he said followed by a few expletives. His pelvis ground into you, creating a sensation on your clit you’ve never experienced.

You felt your second orgasm of the night build up as he continued to fuck you, keeping the same pace. You held your hands on his back and let moans fall to his ear making sure he knew how good you felt.

He pulled out of you and your body felt like deadweight. You were glued to the bed and couldn’t find the energy to get up. “How was that?” He asked. Of course he couldn’t give you a second to recover before opening his mouth.

“Great,” you smiled, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Did you finish?” You sure hadn’t felt him cum inside of you and you don’t think he wore a condominium either.

“No, but I just wanted to make sure you felt good.” He picked his sweatpants up off the floor and went to put his boxers back on before you stopped him.

“Unacceptable. I’m not going to let you jerk off thinking about me two nights in a row. Especially not after I was just naked in your bed.” Your post-orgasm confidence was showing when you dropped to your knees in front of him and took his still hard cock in your hand.

Slick juices still covered it, making it easier for you once you took him in your mouth. He was bigger than you expected, so you started swirling your tongue around the tip while your hand worked at the rest of him. “Shit,” you could hear him say.

You slowly took more of him, hollowing out your cheeks in response to his moans. His hand found the back of your head but rested there, not wanting to pressure you for more but he couldn’t resist once you fit almost all of him in your mouth.

The sounds he made caused butterflies in your stomach knowing that you were the sole reason for those sounds. His grip got tighter on you and he started to thrust into you when you felt a warm liquid shoot down your throat.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he grunted while you took every last drop. You stood up and took a step back, swiping your finger over your bottom lip.

He looked at you with the same eyes you looked at him after he finished fucking you. “So, uh,” he said. “Where do we go from here?”

You nervously looked around the room. “Should we finish the movie?”

“Great idea.”

You both put your clothes back on and sat back on the couch. “Let’s talk about that.” He never knew when to shut up, but sometimes it was for the better.

“What about it?”

“Did you like it? Should we do it again? Do you want to move out?” You laughed at his last question.

“It was really good,” you said, your thoughts wandering to just a few moments ago. You wouldn’t mind having him on top of you again. “We might as well.”

“Just one more thing,” he said. “Don’t fall in love with me.” He smiled and let out a giggle. You weren’t sure if he was being serious or not, but you laughed along too.