#i nearly cried over him the other night when i was drunk LOL oh he w:((((((( he... UuurrUUURRHHHHHGHGHGH HE WAS JUST A LITTLE KID

[gorillaxyz]

i answered a question wrong in history (FIRST TIME IN THE WHOLE OF YEAR 12....) and a few years ago i literally would have sat there fighting back tears from the humiliation. but i dont care......... i just misinterpreted the question. and who cares..? no ones gonna remember it

[harrywavycurly]

I liked the new killer!H update! I love how protective he is but we clearly don’t like him threatening people so I’m wondering if we’ve ever seen him actually get into a fight before? 😅

Hiii babes!! So I just went ahead and wrote something for this because yes, you’ve for sure seen him fight before(if you can even call this a fight lol) I hope you enjoy!!💖

-find all things Killer!Harry here✨

CW: Minor violence (broken wrist and black eye), threats of violence, language and mentions of drinking/being drunk, a quick reminder Harry is a killer in this series but it’s not mentioned at all in this!

A/N: Enjoy this little blurb that shows you and Harry out at a bar back when you are just dating and you see how far Harry is ready to go to keep you safe, this gets very dramatic very quickly but also has fluff and also no I do not condone violence, keep your hands and feet to yourself! ✨

“Baby.” Harry gives your hip a little squeeze as he leans down so his lips are next to your ear, you just let out a hum as you bring your drink up to your lips to take a sip. “M’gonna go get another drink I’ll be right back.” He smiles when you lean back into him, the two of you tucked in the corner of the local bar near the pool tables. He has his back resting against the wall with one hand on your hip while his other arm is resting on top of a high top table with a now empty glass in his hand, you stand in front of him using both hands to hold your glass as you watch Mitch play some random man in a game of pool.

“M’kay” You half mumble with a smile on your face as you feel his hand on your hip slide down to your lower back and gently push you to take a few steps forward allowing him to move from behind you.

“Don’t wonder off please.” He gives you a look that if you weren’t a few drinks in would’ve made you weak in the knees because it’s a mixture of seriousness but also a hint of something else that you can’t really put your finger on but you know you like it.

“Won’t move d’nt worry.” You reassure him but he just shakes his head and lets out a chuckle at how your words come out a little jumbled. You watch as he reaches over and pushes some of your hair back behind your ear before he leans in and places a kiss to your cheek.

“Oh I always worry about you love.” He casually admits making your cheeks get warm, still not used to the way Harry has no issue with telling you things like that at any moment even in the middle of a semi crowded bar on a Saturday night. “I’ll be right back.” He gives you a smile before he grabs his empty glass off the table and turns to head towards the bar.

You have a smile on your face as you watch him walk away and you can’t help but giggle when he looks at you over his shoulder and shoots you a playful wink when he catches you already staring at him. You find it hard to believe that the tall British tattooed man that currently is leaning his forearms on the bar as he talks to the bartender who happens to be his friend Jeff, is your boyfriend and has held that title for almost eight months. He’s different from anyone you’ve dated from the way he dresses in mostly black but every now and again he will venture out and wear a funky patterned shirt with his nicely tailored trousers, to the way he carries himself with such confidence that he sometimes can come off a bit intimidating, but the big thing that sets him apart from just about anyone else is how he always just seems to know what you need without you having to ask and when you casually brought it up to him he just shrugged it off and said something like “I just pay attention love, that’s all” and you nearly cried.

“Hey there.” You jump as a deep voice brings you out of your thoughts about your dream boat of a boyfriend, and you feel yourself tense up when you turn and see a man standing a little too close. “I’m Jake.” You just nod and give him a tight lipped smile as you try to look around him for Mitch who would be the closest person that would be able to help get you out of the current situation, but Jake takes a step closer and rests his hand on the table next to where you’re standing so he can lean in and whisper in your ear. “You look too pretty to be here all alone.”

“Uhm th-thank you but m’not alone.” You inform him making him raise an eyebrow as he looks around before looking back at you with a smirk.

“Sure looks like it to me.” You feel your eyes go wide as you watch Jake’s hand that’s not resting on the table reach for your cheek as if he was going to brush some hair out of your face but before he can you see a very familiar ring clad hand grab his wrist.

“What the fu-” Before what feels like you can even blink you hear a harsh snap followed by a loud squeal and then Jake is on his knees trying to get his wrist free from Harry’s grasp.

“Did my girlfriend tell you she wanted your grubby hand on her?” Harry asks with a cold and hard tone, all Jake can do is shake his head but that isn’t good enough for Harry so he bends his hand back so the top of Jake’s hand is being pushed towards his forearm. “Sorry I can’t hear you mate what was that?” He asks over the whine like sound that slips out of Jake’s mouth due to the pain he’s currently in.

“N-no no! No she didn’t!” Jake shouts making Harry just make a disapproving tisking noise as he shakes his head.

“Figured as much.” With that you hear Jake let out a sigh of relief as Harry lets go of his wrist but only so he can use that hand to deliver a solid punch to the side of his face making Jake fall onto his back. “If I see you anywhere near my girl again a broken wrist and a black eye will be the least of your worries.” He threatens as he watches Jake roll over onto his stomach with a groan.

You don’t know how long the whole ordeal took but it felt like only a few seconds before you have a hand on your forearm leading you away from the man still trying to recover from the damage done to his wrist and the punch to his face. Harry is quick to take your drink out of your hands and place it on a table near the back of the bar next to a bottle of water you didn’t even notice was in his other hand the whole time he was dealing with Jake. You don’t know why but that makes your bottom lip start to tremble and your eyes to get watery. Harry immediately sees your face and assumes your emotions are due to the shock of just seeing something violent happen right in front of you.

“Oh sweetheart I’m sorry.” Harry gently cups your face in his hands as he rests his forehead against yours and lets out a deep sigh. “I’m so sorry baby please don’t be upset.” His voice is soft as he pulls away so he can place a kiss to your forehead.

“You got-” you motion towards the table with your glass and the water bottle on it making Harry raise an eyebrow as he looks from the water bottle and back to you. “me a water.” You mumble with a sniffle as you feel a few tears slips past your waterline, Harry just gives you a warm smile as his thumbs swipe away the tears as they slide down your cheeks.

“I knew you’d need one.” He explains while leaning down to place kisses to your cheeks, of course he knew you’d need one because he always knows what you need. You reach out and place your hands on his chest feeling the softness of his t shirt on your palms. “Are you upset with me?” You know you should at least be a little upset at how he acted, but for some reason all you can think about is the way it made you feel seeing how he didn’t even hesitate to stop Jake from putting his hands on you and how angry it made him to see him even try. You realize as you stand there with his hands on your face that Harry always makes you feel safe, like when he’s around nothing bad can happen.

“You broke his wrist?” You catch a slight smirk appear on his face but only for a moment before he rubs his lips together as his hands slide down from the sides of your face to your neck and then to your shoulders.

“I did.” He confirms making you just nod as you reach a hand up and brush some of his out of his face. “And I also probably gave him a busted eyebrow to go with his black eye.” He adds with no hint of remorse or regret in his voice.

“Because he tried to touch me?” You feel Harry’s hands begin to gently rub the tops of your shoulders making your muscles begin to relax under his soothing touches.

“I don’t like it when creeps get too close to you.” He begins to explain as he pulls you a little closer to him. “I’m always going to protect you from assholes like that but I am sorry you had to see that. I shouldn’t have acted like that in front of you.” He looks into your eyes and you just give him a small smile as you grip his shirt to pull him towards you for a quick kiss.

“I like that you want to protect me.” Harry smiles at your words as he rests his forehead against yours. “But no more fighting okay?” You ask as you pull away from him so you can give him the sternest look you can muster in your half drunken state.

“Okay baby. No more fighting.” He answers before he leans in and places his lips on yours for a kiss that has you forgetting all about the incident that took place a few minutes ago as Harry moves a hand from your shoulder and places it on the back of your neck so he can slide it up into your hair and pull you closer to him. When he finally pulls away you feel light headed with kiss swollen lips as you rest your head on his chest making him chuckle as he gently runs his hand up and down your arm. “I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you too Harry.”

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝FIREWHISKEY.❞

(not my gif)

summary: liquid courage - that's firewhiskey. a drink you and george can both overindulge in, sometimes, but it always seems to bring you closer together.

warnings: fluff central, alcohol (obviously), underage drinking, hangovers, mentions of vomiting, just a disclaimer, it’s been several years since i last picked up the harry potter series, you can probably guess the reason why, so i SINCERELY doubt everything will perfectly follow the timeline. my friend asked me to write something for the twins for her birthday and gave me her blessing to post, please know i’m trying my best lol. this is set loosely during the summer where the weasleys and friends attend the world cup. (google confused me on the twins’ ages so they’re seventeen, not sixteen.)

word count: 1k

tag list: @mizu-soup

a/n: happy birthday fred and george! psst...when i first posted the sneak peek of this fic, i said i had written SCENES for george, not just this singular one you'll (hopefully) read after the "read more" line. i'm planning to post these scenes as a little ficlet series eventually and develop george and reader's relationship more (firewhiskey is the main theme in all of them, as you can probably guess) but my life is a total dumpster fire at the moment, so who knows how fast that'll happen. please enjoy for now :) i love you

//////

Up on the highest floor of the Burrow, the window was a thin, uncurtained rectangle stretching up to the roof, and early in the morning, if, say, you’d gotten so drunk on Firewhiskey the night before you’d blacked out and subsequently forgotten to hoist Ginny’s old mattress up against the wall to cover it, the sunrise nearly blinded you and every other occupant of the room come 7 AM.

Not the most pleasant awakening one could have in the early morning.

“Merlin,” Fred moaned, wincing at the stream of sunlight and shoving his face into the pillow. “Ron, get the bloody mattress.”

“Why does it have to be me?” Ron cried, bounding up from the misshapen heap of blankets on the floor.

“You’re closest, you moron!” George snapped back. “Dunno about Fred, but my head’s pounding, Y/N woke up with her head in the bucket…���

“I’m awake, George,” you bit out from the opposite side of the room, absentmindedly grabbing onto the rim of the bucket in case you were to throw up again: your mouth tasted like something had died and rotted in your throat, and your voice sounded rough and gravelly from the dehydration. “Fuck, that’s the last time I’m drinking Firewhiskey…”

“You lot okay?” Harry whispered from opposite Ron on the floor. You didn’t think anything of it at the time, but he was clutching his forehead, gently rubbing his scar. Regardless of what it may have meant, you felt pity for him: you, Fred, and George might have just turned seventeen, and had drank Firewhiskey plenty before you’d legally been able to, but Harry was fourteen, much too young for a hangover. God, he’d only wanted a sip, why’d you let it go this far?

“We’re alive, I think,” Fred groaned as Ron got up to block the window; his voice was still muffled from his head in the pillow. “Mum will have everything in the pantry for a Rejuvenation Potion, right?”

“Reckon we can nick the cauldron from Percy’s room?” you put in tiredly, rolling over onto your back to stare at him.

George snorted and rolled his eyes. “Oh, no, Y/N, that’s gonna be impossible.”

You’d opened your mouth to hit him with a snarky remark of your own, but too late: in a blink of an eye, George had vanished.

Before you could even roll your eyes at how abruptly he disappeared— and how clever he obviously thought he was as you’d failed your Apparition Test three times in a row and still couldn’t legally do it — he’d Apparated back into the room with a small rusty cauldron in his hands.

“Percy’s in the kitchen,” he told the room, his grin as smug as ever. “Go down and distract him for me, will you? Look alive, you lot.”

The sunlight no longer a threat to his wellbeing, Fred rose from the squashed, broken mess of a couch, rubbing his eyes. “I’ll see what Mum’s making for breakfast.”

He Disapparated, but not fast enough for you not to spot his identical grin. You had to glare at the wall. They loved teasing you, and no matter how much you may have loved them, you’d never hear the end of it.

There was an awkward silence as everyone seemed unwilling to move.

“Ron, get out,” George said, looking over at the misshapen heap of blankets that bore a wincing Ron.

“Fuck you,” he shot back immediately, and George grinned.

“You better not let Mum hear that sass. Harry, I love you mate, I don’t want to sound like I’m kicking you out, but can you leave me and Y/N alone for a moment? Potion’s gonna take, like, fifteen minutes to brew.”

“No problem,” Harry groaned, reaching for his glasses as he climbed to his feet. “Ron, c’mon.”

Much slower than either of the twins, Ron got up, wobbled to the door with his best friend’s aid, and with the loud CREAK of the door opening, they were gone. George was already taking the ingredients he’d gathered out of the cauldron: you saw several packets of herbs, tiny vials of juices, and a large stirring spoon.

Working deftly, he pointed his wand at the pan underneath the cauldron. “Incendio.”

A fire ignited immediately.

“Do you think you’re gonna vomit again?” he asked you as he ripped a packet of herbs open and dumped them into the cauldron. His voice was so gentle you almost didn’t register he was talking to.

You probably weren’t going to, so you finally let go of the bucket. “I don’t think so.”

“Last time she’s drinking Firewhiskey, she says,” he mocked you, wiggling his shoulders sarcastically. “That’s what you say literally ever morning after, you know.”

Slightly above him on the only bed of the room, you pinned him with the most searing death glare you could manage.

George grinned at you - his real grin, completely free of sarcasm or smugness. “Hang in there, love.”

A small silence fell as you watched him.

“I think if you had any ounce of ambition, you’d be a Healer at St Mungos,” you told him absentmindedly.

“St Mungos!” he gasped, his eyes jumping up to yours as he uncorked a small vial of a mysterious reddish juice. “How dare you, Y/N! You want to set me up with Snape for a few more years?”

You laughed, even though it upset your stomach, which was already growling incessantly. “No, I - I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Jesus, I need some of Molly’s scrambled eggs.”

“Go on without me,” he told you, eyeing a measurement of an equally mysterious brown powder that your Muggleborn background likened to hot cocoa mix. “Tell Mum I’m sleeping and am not to be disturbed. And tell Ron if he rats us out about what happens last night, he’ll wish he was never born.”

“I don’t think he will,” you said tiredly, rising. “But I’ll tell them nonetheless. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he responded. “Stay alive for me.”

You smiled gently; your head was still pounding, and now that you were on your feet, your whole world was spinning. “I’ll try.”

[darl1ngd3ar3st]

murdoc + 2d (seperate) getting sappy over their boyfriend headcanons/vague drabble??

my favorite chaotic duo lmao

concept: just if these 2 dummies decided to pour their hearts out to you bcuz they're cheesy bastards and I love them

masculine aligned reader

2d

- he's VERY cheesy with the phrases he uses but there's thought and love behind every word

- he wants you to know he loves you

- normally he gets sappy when he's high or even mildly drunk and you have to keep an eye on him

- for example this one time he got really high and was seriously tripping balls and you were worried he was gonna do some stupid shit if he were to be left unsupervised so you just hung out with him on the couch

- he was zoning out for like 30 minutes before he remembered you were there

- the whole time he was staring into space he was just thinking about how much he loves and appreciates you

- so when he remembered you were there he was like "oh shit lol my bf is here"

- he turned to you and just went "you- do- do you have any idea................how much I love you" because he was high, he was having a difficult time just getting his thoughts together

- you just kinda went "I love you too, stuart :D" and he shushed you

- literally said "SHSHHSGSGSHS IM NOT FINISHED" and continued babbling nonsense about all that you've done for him

- "i....appreciate you a lot. like thiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much" and then stretched his long ass arms as far as he could to represent his appreciation for you

- although he was disappointed that his arms weren't long enough to convey the message he wanted to get across you still thought it was cute and very sweet

- requested cuddles

- received cuddles

- continued to talk about how much you mean to him all night

- he cried a lil bit because he just loves you so much and he feels like he isn't good at expressing that to you :(

- you ordered pizza and convinced him to eat

- overall a nice experience for both of you

Murdoc

- oh boy.

- murdoc doesn't normally get sappy so when he does you'd better enjoy it

- when he is vulnerable like that it's always when you're alone together

- for example, the time after your first time together. You were both worn out but he had some words for you.

- sure, his legs were hurting and the pain was nearly unbearable, but he put that aside and wanted you to know he appreciated that you weren't gonna just leave him once you'd had sex

- while you were fucking he did moan out a bunch of praises and said "I love you" a LOT

- but he wanted you to be aware that he really meant what he said and it wasn't just the heat of the moment

- "darling, you have no idea how much I love you. you mean everything to me, and I'm so glad you're in my life."

- mumbled a whole lot of other things like that

- it was very cute he got very cheesy but he meant every last word

- overall a very pleasant experience to hear him get all sweet like that

[ahjustroza]

Do you have any hcs abt Last Legacy modern au?

Sorry for the wait! I just write very slow 🥺😭 btw I am still writing other requests! I'll post them as soon as I finish writing ✨😌😏 And YES I still take requests😏😏😏

Lol btw I haven't played the catboy Felix tale yet but found his delicious CG. Also, there might be typos etc. My dyslexia was a hoe for the last couple of days (･_･

Last Legacy Modern Au Headcanons

Sage

Lmao the first time you went to his place you faced with an ancient-looking old computer that he found in a garage sale

"It still works"

"Sage with its monitor alone you can heat your entire house in winter"

"Aye, but I don't have to use that to get heated if you catch my drift."

Let me give you a concept: thrift store dates

You took him to a thrift store once and thought it might be fun

But at the moment you entered the store Sage found a damn fake fur jacket and gold sunglasses

He will buy anything with a famous brand logo and say it is original and is an antique

But he'll only do that to annoy people

Mostly.

Sage cares about his looks but doesn't go crazy about it

Before dating you he just lived his life like a street kid like in cyberpunk 2077

Sage and Tulsi grew up in slums and then Sage got an apartment so that Tulsi could grow up in a safe environment

He didn't go to college but made sure that Tulsi did

Sage basically works as a mercenary in the modern au as well

He travels a lot and has to disappear for a looong long time

Tulsi is used to it but you aren't

Once you two are in a relationship and he feels ready to settle down he might get a job closeby to your shared house

You made him realize that he needs his family around him

And now he is not alone to carry all the burden by himself

He knows that if he can't make it in time you will be there to help out Tulsi or take care of all the work for him

He feels lighter around you

Also, he makes many people jealous on the streets lol

Whenever you two are on a date no one can believe that you, a literal divine being, could look at a Boku no pico catboy maid-sama man like him.

He is also jealous of you

But never possessive

He likes to send you out of context memes in the worst possible times ever

Like you got Luigi and Mario animations, doing the waltz, with the Britney Spears' Toxic song during the busiest hour of your shift

He also texted "This us"

The audacity

Sage would also LOVE video games

Especially Final Fantasy games

But he suck at playing them so he makes you play instead

And he'll give instructions too

"I saw a checkpoint in the other room babe,"

"Love, I gotta run away from the boss right now."

"It's not the boss, bosses have their boss rooms. This is an obstacle"

Sage also suck at filing taxes

So good luck with that

I can see Sage having PTSD treatments because of his traumatized childhood and the life he had to live until now after settling down with you

You convinced him to go to therapy and Tulsi backed you up

So he will take medications every day

At first, you had to remind him a lot, but then he just made it an addiction and now doesn't need reminders

He was never happier and finally had a taste of a healthy and caring relationship with you

He is also not so terrible with putting the IKEA furniture together.

Felix

He got expelled from Harvard.

Then his rich father had to convince the headmaster to reconsider the decision and Felix ended up with suspension instead smh

Felix's grades are great but he has disciplinary issues

I can see him majoring in criminal justice and mortuary science

Or maybe just mortuary science

Escell was very disappointed in him.

He is also famous for dating with the valedictorian among Harvard graduates

Then they broke up and you yeeted yourself in his life

Or he yeeted himself to your arms

He literally dramatically fell one day and you happened to be close to catch him

Then the Titanic music played in the background with the slow summer rain fell down to your heads

You are hot so he was flustered

Like he internally screamed when he fell in your arms

Or shall I say fell in love?

You two then started as friends since not too later he found out that he might actually have a chance with you after you mentioned your love of video games and romance books

After starting to date he confessed that he has an AO3 account asddgf

Rime was a burden too

He was the one who broke Felix's heart

But still wanted him to only love him and him alone

Then you were like

"Hoe listen to me..."

Rime hot

But no

Felix cried until morning the day you fist fought Rime in the grocery store parking lot

AAHGDHFA

Scylla secretly approved your determination that day and watched the fight afar

Escell got drunk and Florian came home the day after for everyone's explanations

The deeper your relationship got the more a part of his family you become

I mean every Friday it was now a routine that Felix and you attended family dinner

No one even asks anymore they just put your plate down and Escell hides his most expensive wine bottles from everyone

Felix is not good to live in his own house though

He always lived with someone in the house so he wasn't alone

Ever.

When you moved into the same house with him Felix was relieved

You two will be emos together and watch fifty shades of grey movies during the quarantine

Please ask Felix if he thinks the movie is interesting, he will avoid you all day long

Then become a blanket burrito at night lmao

Oh btw he might tell you random facts about mortuary

Like you are in the shower and he comes in to brush his teeth

Then he'll tell you a fact you didn't have to know then leave

"Truly fascinating, if you ask me."

He is also the type to text you from the other side of the room

Or call you from the other room to ask you if you can bring him something to eat

Felix would also love to go to the farmers' market too

"Finally some quality food."

Whenever you two go on a vacation together

lmao someone ALWAYS takes his hand and reads his palm

Only to be ended up getting scolded and getting a proper palm reading from Felix

Anisa

Call her and ask if she wants drive tru

"Love, it is thREE IN THE MORNING, I have work tomorrow-"

"So two? Or nah?"

"Get a coffee."

Actually, she wants a cookie but won't admit it

She knows you'll get her a cookie

You always get her a cookie with coffee

Anisa might be a great investigator if you ask me

If not a detective or a police chief or lieutenant

But I think she would work in law enforcement

Or she might also start her own company and rise as well

Unlike Sage and Felix, Anisa will not live in the same house with you before she decides to settle down for good

It's not because she doesn't want you around her

But because she is always at work and doesn't want to leave everything to you to handle at home

But she is always with you on her day offs

Will call you once a day at least

Text you during her breaks or whenever she can

If you can show up at her workplace during the lunch break she will take you to the nearest coffee shop

"Their coffee is not nearly as good as yours, but among other shops, this is the most drinkable one."

She will spoil you during your dates!

She likes to see you smile and will do anything for you to have a good time with her

So expect sweets, movie nights, amusement park dates, or just traveling during both of your yearly week/month offs/breaks

She won't admit it but likes it when you try to match your clothes with hers

She will know your favorite everythings lol

Take her to a dinner date and she will be so happy and feel spoiled

She will let you paint her nails

Let you get all the hot water in the shower

Will let you wear her clothes

Pillow fights are allowed every now and then

When she gets sick she'll try to power through but likes it when you baby her

Whenever you get sick she will try to not fuss over you but every 15 minutes she'll ask to take you to see a doctor

She is a cereal gal

You might have to drag her to bed many nights because she will take work at home

Oh my god, do play dungeons and dragons with her

If you visited somewhere she has never been she will ask a lot of questions about your trip

Likes to binge a tv series you two found online

Also enjoys just silent but comfortable moments with you

When you read your book she will gaze at you

All heart eyes

Will put her favorite picture of you two as her profile picture in her social media accounts

Will like your every post

ALWAYS TEXTS BACK TO YOU. ALWAYS.

Never leaves you on read/seen

She will either give you a proper text or just let you know that she is busy at the moment

Also if you come home later than her she will ask if you want her to prepare anything special you want for dinner

otherwise, she'll do dishes that you both like anyway

If she is late, she'll call you to ask if you need anything from the grocery store, etc.

[1kook]

skirt chasers - drabble iii

this a skirt chasers drabble in case u couldn't tell uhhh here’s i and ii lol

summary; “I think the alcohol broke my amygdala. Your epidermis looks pretty today— did you use that toner I told you about?” warnings; alcohol mention, tit sucking, unprotected sex, use of the pull out method, uhh making out??? ratings; mature (18+) misc; educational abolitionist!jungkook, drunk jk, mentions of throwing up lol, jk is an anatomy frEAK, more skirts, more jk has questionable kinks wc; like barely 2k

notes; i wrote this in like 40 mins bc i couldn't stop thinking about STIMBO jk from skirt chasers and how cool he is enjoy xxxx also i barely rmr shit from anatomy bc it was the worst course of my life so pls bear with me

His first mistake is getting drinks with the boys. You like to think you know your boyfriend pretty well, know what he’s good at, where he excels, where he thrives, and well. Drinking doesn’t rank too high on the list.

Jimin calls a little past midnight. “Kook’s on the table,” he slurs into the phone, too loud and too sloppy for a Wednesday night phonecall.

“Ha?” you mumble back, rubbing your eyes until you see stars. The room is dark, practically spinning from how out of it you are. Chaeyoung is dead asleep in her room, so even whispering feels like a crime. “Where are you guys?”

Some bar on the south side of town, that strip where all the newly turned twenty-one year olds go to get wasted. Jungkook’s supposed to be studying for some big exam he has on Friday— at least, that’s what he told you —so it takes a few minutes of convincing on Jimin’s part until you’re shrugging your coat on, blindly navigating through your apartment for your keys and wallet. You briefly consider taking an Uber, but ultimately decide you’d rather get stabbed to death on a public bus so at least your family can sue the city afterwards.

Jungkook is indeed on the table, except the table has long since tipped over. So now he’s just sprawled across some dirty bar floor, puppy-soft head of curls spilling over his forehead. He’s so cute, so adorable. You want to kill him. “Up,” you command, channeling the strength of twelve football players to haul your beefy boyfriend off the ground.

“Baby,” he beams, looking at you but not actually looking at you. “I think the alcohol broke my amygdala. Your epidermis looks pretty today— did you use that toner I told you about?”

You don’t even know what that means, can’t even question him, because then Jin is angrily yelling at you to cover his tab. You pay with a stiff middle finger, flail the three dollars in your wallet at him, before sweeping away your poor damsel in distress. “You’re supposed to be studying,” you huff, can’t even be mad when he stops to throw up in a bush outside the bar. You’re so embarrassed, pretend you don’t know him as you pull up the bus times on your phone.

He’s huffy by the time you get on the bus, sniffling against your neck as he cries about his common hepatic portal vein thing— you don’t fucking know.

Chaeyoung isn’t too impressed with you when you bring him home, dump him on the couch while she steals your AirPods from your room. “Explain yourself,” you demand, and his head rolls back.

“I hate school,” he complains, slaps a hand down against his forehead. You’re certain he’s concussed himself this time. Then he’s bending over, head held between his hands. “Wanna cry.”

You sigh, kneeling in front of him. “You’re almost done,” you comfort him, hand on the back of his head. He’s so sweaty, and smells like all his friends colognes at the same time. “You’re smart, baby, you can do this.”

Your words have the opposite effect, because then he’s rocking forward childishly, nearly rams your skulls together and kills you. He’s reached the point of his insobriety where he’s too sad and huffy to think, sadly leaning against your shoulder as if that’ll somehow solve all his problems. You doubt it will, but there’s really nothing much you can when Jungkook reaches this point, so you settle on softly patting the back of his head until the fool is fucking snoring against you.

Chaeyoung blesses you with her divine retribution the next morning by using up the last of your body wash, and then you’re left to deal with a hungover Jungkook on a Thursday morning. You’re pretty sure he had a class that morning, but he wakes up too late for you to even try to convince him to still go, and then he’s moping on your couch in last night’s clothes. You’re getting ready for your internship, blouse half buttoned, pencil skirt wiggled up to your waist.

“Abolish exams,” he mutters, numbly staring at the ceiling as you wipe his face with a cleansing towelette. He doesn’t seem remotely interested in the shower or the pancakes you made, which lets you know this is a much more serious issue than just a drunken episode. “Aren’t they stupid?” You nod. “Sure, test me on every damn thing we’re learning right now as if science isn’t always changing and I’ll have to keep learning anyway.”

He looks over at you, under-eye bags absolutely horrendous. “Tests are stupid,” you agree, and it seems to be exactly what he wants to hear as he sinks into your arms, face buried in your chest. “Too stupid for smarty-pants Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook groans, flops over you on the couch all smelly and gross. “They test you for memorization and not comprehension,” he adds, finally wiggling out of his stinky clothes.

With Jungkook, you can never tell where things are going. One minute he’s cursing the education system and the next he’s kissing along your neck in his rambling fury. “As if I these materials will somehow become nonexistent once I’m working,” he huffs, hands on your thighs. Your breath hitches in your throat, fingers digging into his biceps as he mindlessly kisses down the valley between your breasts. “Shit’s so fucking stupid,” he spits, bunching your skirt around your waist.

“Jeon—“

“I’m just trying to be a fuckin’ pediatrician, for fuck’s sake,” he growls, hastily undoes the front buttons on your blouse. Your black bra comes into view, heart pounding in your chest as Jungkook makes quick work of reaching behind and undoing it, pushing it away, and cupping your breasts in his palms. He guides one of your legs around his waist, tucks it around him as he gets to work raining down kisses on your tits. “So pretty, doll,” he murmurs, pretty pink lips leaving smooches down your chest.

You bite down on your lip, watch through hazy eyes as those big doe eyes flick up at you, tongue swirling around your nipple. “N— Not tired anymore?” you pant, hands in his hair. It’s still dry and knotted from last night’s adventures, but you don’t mind. Not when Jungkook’s hard cock is flush against your thigh.

“Nah,” he confirms, rolling his hips forward against your core. Oh he was horny horny this morning. Or was he angry horny? You don’t care, either way you were winning. “I serenaded you last night, y’know?”

You snort, but it morphs into a whimper when he captures your rock hard nipple between his perfect teeth. “Not a serenade,” you whimper, fingernails running along his scalp, “if I’m not there.”

Jungkook leans back, lets you breathe for a second as he unbuckles the front of his pants, jeans pulled down around his thighs. And of course he’s hard as fuck by now; this was Jeon Jungkook you were dealing with. He could get it up and going in two seconds flat at the mere sight of your collarbones. “You were there,” he insists, capturing your hand in his all romantic like until you’re flustered and shaking him off. He levels you with a cheesy grin, presses your palm against his chest. “Here.”

You gag. “That’s disgusting.”

Jungkook laughs, all squeaky and airy because he’s never given a fuck about looking cool in front of you. His next words only prove your point. “Why? Don’t like being nestled against my left lung and esophagus, all sexy like?”

You roll your eyes, tug your panties aside to give him a full view of what his dorky anatomical talk has done to you. “Dick me down or go away,” you say, pointer finger nudging his chin up when he stares too long

He snaps his teeth at you, almost bites your finger, the fuckin’ weirdo. “Sassy today,” he teases, presses the tip of his cock against you. Both of you groan, watch as he glides himself up and down your folds, angry mushroom head pushing against your clit. “Always so wet for me,” he mumbles shakily, eyes zeroed in on your wet folds and how slick they feel against him. “Didn’t stretch you out again.”

“Yo— You’re mean about that anyway,” you pant, pulling him closer by those firm ass cheeks of his. “I can tell when you’re using me as a reference model.”

Jungkook gasps as if he’s genuinely scandalized by your claim, follows your wordless command and finally lines himself up with your quivering entrance. “I’m a hands-on learner,” he offers, his cheeky smile still on his face until he finally sinks into you and his features twist up all pretty. “Your pussy’s just so pretty, baby,” he grunts, hand on your hip.

Your face feels warm, from the pleasure that rolls over your body and the vulgarity of his words. “Shush now,” you say, try to sound strict and in command, but he’s got his other hand cupping your jaw, looking at you like you’re a goddess and not some dorky college student in their even dorkier internship uniform.

“Temptress,” he mumbles, pushes past your clenching lips until he’s flush against you, your walls spasming around his cock because he just feels so good. “Tried to sneak past me in that tiny skirt.” He draws back, lets his swollen head catch at the entrance before sliding back in, pace slow and sensual, too intimate for some random Thursday morning. “Little doll just needs to be fucked in the morning, doesn’t she?” A pitiful whimper catches in your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head with every glide of his dick back inside of you.

“N- Not my fault you have naughty eyes,” you whimper, hand coming up to bite at your knuckles as Jungkook continues to fuck you so sweetly. “Fuck.”

Jungkook ducks over you, wavy hair tickling your forehead as his hot breath fans across you. Smells like the mouthwash you made him take and hints of last night’s alcohol. “Can’t help it,” he husks, capturing your lips in his. Sloppy and wet, tongue clashing with yours as he guides you along, hips slowing to rhythmic ruts that have you moaning after each roll.

A few drawn-out thrusts later and you’re coming, body so sensitive this early in the morning, and it certainly doesn’t help that Jungkook looks like that (sweaty and worn, dark eyes watching you writhe beneath him). Surprisingly, it takes him a few more rushed thrusts before he follows, barely managing to pull out in time before his sparkling cum is splattering over your tummy and the skirt bunched around it. “No,” you whine, melting into the couch. “Jeon, this is my only one,” you complain, rubbing a hand over your eyes as if that’ll somehow make your legs work again enough to push him off.

Jungkook says nothing as he tucks himself back into his boxers, chest heaving from exertion as he crashes back onto the couch. “Liar,” he responds after a moment, out of breath and half asleep again. He’s still technically hungover. Hand lazily drawing circles on your knee as you sit up, wiggling your skirt back down. He gives you this indecipherable look. “I hid the other one under your dresser.”

You smack his arm. “Why the hell would you—“

He tackles you back into the couch, presses the stain into your skirt. It must feel gross against his naked tummy, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to care. “Makes me too horny,” he announces, pout pressed against your neck. “I had a teacher fantasy the other day. Did I tell you?” You roll your eyes, resigning yourself to this new life squashed beneath your boyfriend. “You were my high school anatomy teacher and I failed, so you made me stay after school for supplemental lessons—“

“That’s an abuse of power,” you point out, back to carding your hands through his now sweaty and greasy hair. “And you would never fail an anatomy class, that’s literally your comfort area of study.”

“Listen,” he stresses, lifts his head until he’s peering at you with these humongous Bambi eyes. “You spanked me and—“

“Go get my skirt.”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[thatgoblin]

Shower - Chris Redfield and Sherry Birkin

Summary: Sequel to 'Sacrifice'. After getting another hotel for the night, after checking to make sure it wasn't full of hidden rooms and a cult, Chris and Sherry clean up and talk about their confessions.

Warnings: Fluffy smut

Words: 4053 (This is a monster one. You're welcome. lol)

Requested by: @lyndibs

The sight of a Holiday Inn had never been better for Sherry. No more off the beaten path hotels or motels for them. The woman at the check in counter had looked rather wary at Chris and Sherry as they walked in with blood on them, but she didn't pry. Sherry figured she would be making notes to double check with the police or at least the cleaning staff to make sure none of the blood stained anything.

Chris once more carried their bags to their room as they quietly rode the elevator. They did need to talk about what had happened at the previous hotel. Aside from finding a cult, they had confessed their feelings to one another in the heat of the moment. Sherry had been shot and Chris thought she was dying.

When he remembered she could heal herself almost instantly, it was a bit embarrassing, but they didn't take anything they had said back. Instead they shared a kiss. It had been sweet and lingering and Sherry swore she could still feel Chris' facial hair rubbing against her face.

"You can take a shower first," Chris said, moving around the room to check it out. He was not about to make the same mistake again and be knocked out by gas.

"Okay," Sherry said, digging out clean clothes before taking off her boots. "You find anything?" She asked, pausing as she watched Chris inspect the windows.

"Thankfully, no," he said as he looked at her. "Oh, uh, let me check the bathroom first before you do anything."

She nodded, stepping out of the way to let him through. Chris checked the mirror, the sink, the drains and shower heads before giving her a nod.

"Pretty sure we're good," he said as his eyes scanned over her figure. "I'll, uh, let you get to it."

"What happened to asking me if you could help me shower?" She asked, giggling softly. Sherry had meant it as a joke, figuring that Chris had been flirting and not serious.

"I mean, I can," he said, his voice getting soft and low as he took a step forward. "If you want me to." His fingers twitched as he gingerly took Sherry's delicate hand in his own rough one.

Did Sherry want to do this so soon? They had just confessed their love for one another and kissed after a supposed near death experience. She'd always adored and had feelings for Chris, but she'd never been in a relationship before. She'd barely held hands with a boy let alone actually go on a date. Between the scientists and how strict Simmons had been growing up, she'd been lucky to have her first kiss at 19. Even then it was over so quickly she barely remembered what it was like.

"Hey," Chris said, his hand cupping her face to gently turn her to face him. "We don't have to do anything you don't want. I'll stay out here and guard if you would rather."

"No, it's just that. . . I've never seen another person naked before. In real life and definitely not in a romantic way," Sherry said, covering his hand with hers. "I've never even held hands with someone let alone get this far."

"We can wait till we're in a better place. My place even," Chris said. "You know it's safe and we can take our time and go at your pace."

Chris' relationships had petered out after The Spencer Mansion incident. He'd been paranoid and didn't know who to trust. Anyone could be working for Umbrella. So anything beyond a first date and maybe a one night stand was not something he really knew about. That even dwindled to nothing as he got older. It had been too long since he'd been with another person romantically.

"I know," Sherry said. "I want this though. I want to be with you and have since China. We don't have to do anything, but I want to be close to you."

"How close are we talking?" Chris asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

"This close," she said, pressing against his front as she reached up to hold his face in her hands. "I want you as close as I can get you."

"I can do that," Chris said, his hands resting on Sherry's hips. Slowly, he leaned in to catch her lips in a deep, unrushed kiss. This wasn't like the last one. No, they weren't in danger and not in some stinky cult pit. The Holiday Inn wasn't exactly the most luxurious of accommodations, but it was a full flight of steps above the last place. "Come on," he said after pulling back. "If my clothes are sticking to me in uncomfortable parts, I can only imagine your discomfort."

"Yeah, now that you mention it," Sherry said with a giggle.

Going into the bathroom, Chris closed the door behind them before he started the shower to let it warm up. Both of them were taking their time in undressing, almost in a nervous giddy way that teens were when they were seeing each other naked for the first time.

Sherry was nervous because she didn't look like the other women at the B.S.A.A. Her body was athletic, but not nearly as voluptuous as the others could be. It did make her pause in pulling off her shirt. Would Chris be disappointed that she wasn't as large in the chest as Jill was or Helena? Her backside was lackluster as well, so would he still want her stick body?

Chris was going through his own insecurities. Would Sherry still want him after seeing all his scars? She'd seen him naked in the cult room, but this was different. It was up close and personal. Which meant every discoloration and dimple in his skin was on display. Sure, he was built and used every damn muscle in his body, but it didn't make up for the fact that he wasn't as flexible or able to do everything he used to be able to do because of all his injuries and his age.

Taking a deep breath, Sherry decided to break the ice. They wouldn't get anywhere in a relationship if they always froze up on one another.

Making sure to face Chris, Sherry pulled her blood soaked shirt off before reaching behind her to undo her bra. Grunting softly, she was usually able to just snap her fingers and it would come off, but in the rush to save Chris she must have gotten it tangled.

Following her lead, Chris had shed his shirt before glancing to Sherry. He had to pause because even covered in blood she was gorgeous.

"Here," he said with a chuckle. Going around to her back, he helped untangle her bra clasp before slowly pushing the straps down her shoulders. Sherry was beautiful and Chris was never going to get over it. Leaning in close, he press his lips to the soft skin of her shoulder, humming softly as his hands slid down to her waist. They moved to her front to pull at the button of her jeans.

Sucking in a breath, Sherry felt like her whole body was suddenly on fire with just a few simple touches of Chris' rough fingers and chapped lips. It was new and exciting, making her feel almost drunk as she pressed back against him to feel his bare chest.

Well almost bare. He had a smattering of hair that covered his chest, trailing down his belly to below his belt line. Her hands covered his as they unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, pushing them down with her underwear. As he was pressed to her back, she could feel exactly how much he wanted to keep going. His bulge in his pants felt daunting and almost too big, but she trusted him to not hurt her.

"Still good?" He asked, his voice low and husky in her ear.

"Uh huh," Sherry said with a slight nod, breathing harder as she let her bottoms drop to her knees. Shaking slightly, from nerves and how sensitive her skin was to touch, she let his hands roam her to discover and map her out. When was the last time she'd been given such a gentle touch? Not even sexually or romantically, but just a hug from a friend?

Chris was in the same boat, doing his best not to rub against her from behind as he continued to kiss up her neck while he found her sensitive, soft parts. His fingers ran down her sides as he let a small grunt out when he felt the short, soft curls that lay between her legs. Listening to her breathing as it became heavier, he dipped one hand down to cup her as the other moved up to grasp one of her breasts.

"Chris," she groaned, seeming surprised at how she sounded. Her voice was naturally high, but it went down in pitch as he rubbed over her mound without penetrating her. "Don't stop."

"I haven't even started, Baby," he said with a chuckle. His teeth found a spot on her shoulder to knead as a finger pushed past her folds to tease her hole with slow strokes. While it had been a while, he remembered the gist of what women liked when having sex and what parts were the most sensitive. With Sherry, he assumed she was going to be extra sensitive from lack of stimulation there. So he kept the pace slow in case she had any qualms about what was happening.

Sherry reached behind her to hold onto Chris as he kept working her up, feeling her entrance grow slick with each swipe of his finger. His large finger at that. Then he moved it to that small bundle of nerves, his finger circling that nub as she began to pant and whine.

"Feel good, Baby?" He asked as she spread her legs further.

"Uh huh," she mewled as her hips began to try and press into his finger. "Please don't stop. Feels so good."

"Don't worry. I'm not stopping till you cum," Chris moaned into her ear as he sped up his motions. His other hand massaged her breast, moving to pinch and pull at her nipple to give her more pleasurable sensations.

"Chris!" She cried out, whimpering as she felt herself getting close to that proverbial edge. Small mewls and whines were all she could make as she felt him speed his ministrations up, increasing the pressure to have her grip his arms hard. Throwing her head back, she couldn't stop the sob as she came hard in his arms.

"That's it," Chris said as he kept working her clit through her orgasm. "You sound and look so good, Baby," he groaned softly, holding her up as she caught her breath.

"Holy shit," she moaned softly. "That. . . We barely did anything and I was. . . Wow."

"You're welcome," Chris chuckled, holding her up till she was able to stand on her legs again. "Now, let's get a shower before we test how much hot water this place has."

"What about you?" She asked, turning to look at Chris after pushing her clothes completely off of her. Sherry had been pressed back against him, writhing on him practically, he had to be needing to get off.

"Slow down," Chris said with a hum, raking his eyes over her as she face him. "I'm not going to be a speed demon here, besides. I wanna be with you in a bed, not a hotel bathroom while covered in blood."

"Oh," she said, smiling softly as a blush crept across her already rosy cheeks. "I guess who should shower then." Chris nodded, letting Sherry get in first before handing her the shower supplies. Stripping his pants and underwear, he took a second to take a deep breath. He was achingly hard, but didn't want her to feel obligated or anything. Chris had already said he wanted to have her in bed, but that wouldn't happen if he got off in the shower.

Stepping into the hot spray behind her, Chris grabbed a wash rag to lather it up. Sherry was already washing her front so he went to work on her back. She hummed as he took his time and made sure she was clean, taking extra care on her lower back where she'd been shot.

"I feel so stupid," he said as his fingers ran over where a bullet wound had been not an hour earlier.

"What do you mean?" Sherry asked, glancing over her shoulder.

"I forgot all about you being able to heal. Fear just shot through me and I couldn't get it out of my head that I could lose you and you had no idea how much you meant to me," he said, letting go of her to wash himself.

"It's going to take a lot more than a .22 bullet to make me leave you," she said, turning around to face him.

Chris had to give her credit, she really did try not to stare at him as she reached out to help wash him.

"I know it's not everyday that you see someone naked," he said with a chuckle as she forced her eyes to stay on his chest. "You can look. I mean, I've certainly enjoyed seeing you."

"It's just that. . . I haven't seen one hard before. In medical documents and school work for biology, but. . . I didn't really look for those types of things," she said, letting her eyes drop to his member as it stood at attention between them.

"I mean, I could say I was much bigger than any other guy, but I'm not," he said. "I don't think scaring you would make you want to go further or explore more."

"Uh huh," she said, almost half listening.

"It's average. A lot of guys will say they're huge, but they're all average. I promise," he said with a chuckle. "You can touch it if you want."

It was no skin off Chris' back to explain he wasn't the biggest out there. He wasn't small either, but he knew how to satisfy someone with what he had and that was what counted.

Sherry glanced back up at him, licking her lips before reaching out to run her fingers down his shaft. Chris couldn't have made that image up if he wanted to. The sight of her delicately stroking him as her lips were slightly parted had him wanting her so bad. He wouldn't push though. There was no need to ruin this moment because of him being too horny for his own good.

"Does that feel good?" She asked, looking up to see his chest heaving as his eyes were dark and half lidded.

"You have no idea," he groaned as she properly grasped him to continue stroking him. "Fuck."

She was curious about how he tasted, but that was too much too fast. They had time and could do that later. Right then, she wanted to be coupled with him, to feel him inside her and cum because he was with her.

"If you keep this up, we're going to have to wait a while before we can get to the big event," Chris grunted as he pushed Sherry's wet hair back from her face.

"We'll have plenty of time to explore later," she said with a smile. "Right now, I want you."

"I want you too," Chris said, leaning in to kiss Sherry. She was the perfect height for him, just a tilt of her head and her lips were his. "We'll go slow and let me know if you want to stop."

"Same goes for you," she said, giving him a wink. Clean and no longer covered in grime and blood, the pair turned off the shower before stepping out to dry off a bit.

"Are you on birth control?" He asked as they moved to the bedroom.

"Yeah, I have an implant," she nodded.

"Alright because I don't have any condoms and I would hate to put a pause on the moment," he said with a chuckle. Sherry giggled as he came close, wrapping her arms around his neck as he picked her up. Her sex was already aching again as it pressed to his belly with Chris' cock so close. Kissing, he carried her to the bed where he laid her down as he continued to taste her lips.

His scruff scraped against her skin, making her moan as his lips began to roam down her throat to her chest. His hands guided her legs open before his fingers were stroking into her again. Sherry couldn't help the gasp followed by a deep groan as he pushed a finger into her. It felt big, almost enough to get her off again with that alone.

"Gonna open you up, Baby. So it doesn't hurt," he said, looking up at her before pressing a kiss to her hip. Sherry nodded, clutching the duvet as she watched him closely. It never occurred to her how attractive he could be by just being so close to her naked. She had assumed it would always take something special and extra to find that spark between her and another person, but there Chris was with his finger knuckle deep in her as he nipped and sucked on her hips.

Feeling how slick she was, Chris added a second finger, nearly cumming at the moan she gave him. Her hips bucked up to meet his thrusts as he stretched her.

"You're doing so good, Baby," he moaned, his cock pressing against his belly as he kept going. "You're so beautiful like this. I get this all to myself."

"All for you," she whined as he began to massage a spot inside her that made her pant harder. "Chris, oh god."

"That's it. Just relax, I've got you," he said as he added a third and final finger.

"So full," Sherry moaned, her eyes glazed over as she shook under him.

"You're about to be even more full, just a bit more," Chris said, leaning down to swipe his tongue over her clit experimentally.

"Fuck!" She cried out, earning a chuckle from Chris. Sherry rarely cursed and if she did it meant they were deep trouble. This though, Chris was glad he got this for himself.

"Did that feel good?" He asked as he kept working his fingers in and out of her, getting a bit faster.

"It felt so good," she sobbed as she threw her head back into the pillows, moving her body with his thrusts.

"I'll make sure to show you how much fun oral can be later," he said as he finally pulled his fingers away. Sherry whined as she looked up to see him licking his fingers clean. Why was that so damn hot? She didn't have time to ponder it as he moved between her legs, positioning them wider as he held his member. "Gonna go slow. Let me know if you need me to pause," he said, looking up at her. "It's not supposed to hurt and that's the last thing I want to do to you."

"I promise, I'll tell you," she said. Sherry had expected her first time to probably hurt and be over quickly, but Chris was making it so much more than that. He was taking care of her, making sure she was okay and wanted to keep going. This wasn't just sex to her and she saw that it was the same with him. They were becoming closer in a way that they both craved in their touch starved lives. If she could, she would never stop touching him and she was sure he felt the same.

Chris nodded, guiding his member to her slick folds. He ran the head up and down a few times before so very slowly pushing into her. It took everything not to sink into her fast and hard. She was hot and wet and tight even with the stretching.

"Still good?" He asked, pausing after just an inch.

"Yeah, I'm good," she said. It wasn't painful really, just a lot of pressure. As Chris moved further into her, it became tighter till he was completely seated and the angle changed just the slightest. Sherry groaned as her body relaxed around him, her legs held up on his hips as her clit ground against his pelvis. "Oh fuck," she moaned as Chris stayed there, letting her adjust while giving her shoulders and neck kisses.

"Just wait till I start moving," he said, smirking as he pushed himself up to watch her. God, he couldn't get enough of watching her enjoy such pleasure. She had gone through hell as a kid and as an adult, she deserved the whole damn world and he'd give it to her. He moved to a different position, allowing him to keep that angle while pulling his hips back.

Sherry had scene the movies, read the romance novels, watched the tv shows, but had never figured sex would be so good. She figured it was hyped up and wasn't as enjoyable as it was made out to be. It never occurred to her that it could be all that, with the right person for her.

Chris was that person and as he started to move, she was loving every second already. They started slow, Chris being true to his word to take it easy so she could experience it fully. As he began to speed up the pace, making his thrusts harder, she wanted more. She wanted more of this, of this intimate feeling of being connected to Chris, but also it made her feel so normal.

Normal was not something she thought she would ever know, but in that moment, in that small world of just her and Chris, Sherry felt like they were just a couple on vacation. They were just on a quick get away to have some time to themselves or some other story she could make up later. Her emotions and feelings were spiraling in the best way, making her first time more potent and memorable.

Their lips connected again as Chris hiked one of her legs up higher, hitting another spot she had no clue about to coax a noise she didn't realize she could make.

"Right there," she panted, one of her arms around his neck and the other hand grasping as his side. "Oh god, right there!"

Grunting, Chris nodded, keeping that angle and speed, watching as her eyes rolled back into her head. It had been so long since he'd been with someone and with how receptive Sherry was, he wasn't going to last long. God, he wanted to give her everything he had, to please her and worship her. She deserved that treatment and he was going to give it to her.

Sherry felt herself on the verge of an orgasm, one much bigger than before. She clung to Chris as he kept thrusting into her, making wet noises with their bodies she'd never thought would be sexy.

"I'm-I'm gonna cum," she gasped, looking up at him as she tried to hold on just a bit longer.

"Go on, Baby. I want you to cum on me," Chris moaned, moving a hand between them. His thumb found her clit to rub it as he kept thrusting.

She cried out, sobbing as a few swipes of his thumb sent her over the edge. Cumming hard, she clenched his member tightly as he kept moving. He didn't last much longer as her core was practically milking him. Grunting, he gave a few more pumps before staying as deep as he could inside her to cum.

Sherry could feel it. She felt his release inside her and while it was strange, it wasn't bad. Staying connected to her, Chris leaned down to kiss her hard. His tongue swiped at her lips in a request for entrance. She groaned, opening her mouth as they tasted one another.

"I love you," he whispered as he pressed his forehead to hers, still panting slightly.

"I love you, too," she whispered back, her hands cupping his face. "No more near death confessions. Not anymore."

"Aye aye, Captain," he said with a chuckle.

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

(submission) The Undertow

(tws for temporary death, drowning, and separation)

    The tide washes out.

    False opens her eyes to a brand-new world, filled with life and color. Around her, a coral reef stretches as far as she can see. Fish dart between the branches of the reef and through the pitted rocks underfoot.

    What’s odd, though, is that she’s stuck.

    Something, she thinks, is very wrong. She glances down at her body, which is wrapped in the rough branches of some sort of calciferous red growth, and as much as she struggles, she can’t move, the surface rubbing against her skin.

    Behind her, she hears a frenzied splashing. She can’t turn around all the way, so she shouts to whatever’s behind her.

    “Get away from me!” she yells. If it’s a drowned, maybe she can scare it away. If it’s something worse...well. She wasn’t expecting a death this early in the season, but it had to happen at some point.

    Luckily, it’s just a human that calls back. 

    “False? Where are we?” asks Stress, her distinctive voice putting False back at ease. What passes for ease when you’re stuck in a coral reef, anyways.

    “I...don’t know,” False says, enunciating each syllable with careful precision, considering the options. “This is glitched, I suppose.”

    False can almost see Stress’s face brighten. “Oh, shame. Well, our dear admin will have it fixed in no time, then.”

    “Yeah, I’ll send him a message. Maybe he can teleport us out real quick.” She sighs. “We’re going to have to restart the world, probably. That’s annoying.” Taking out her communicator, which is only slightly waterlogged, she swipes it open and types out a quick chat to Xisuma. 

<FalseSymmetry> o/ 

<FalseSymmetry> x we’re stuck in coral. tp please?

    The two women wait. Five minutes.

    “Might as well start trying to get out of here!” Stress says, her voice a note cheerier than usual. It’s forced.

    False snaps out of her thoughts. “Sure.” She takes her fist and slams it down on their colorful prison. “Oof, that hurt,” she says, peering down at the spot where it made contact. “And barely a dent!”

    “Guess we better get working, then,” replies Stress, who’s trying her best not to sound too downhearted.

    They do. It’s not going great when Stress notices a bit of a change in their environment. “Falsie...do you think it’s possible the water might be getting the teensiest bit higher?”

    False nods grimly. “Yep.”

    Stress grimaces. “Oh boy. And Xisuma still hasn’t replied?”

    “Nope.”

    “Ah.”

    A moment passes in a nervous silence while the duo continue to chip away at the coral.

    “You don’t think he’s ignoring us, do you?” Stress says, a small quaver creeping its way into her quiet words.

    “Of course not. He’s probably just...busy.” False stops and cocks her head. “You know. I bet if our spawn is glitched, other peoples’ might be as well.”

    “That makes sense, I suppose.”

    A small wave washes over them. When they reemerge, coughing from the salty water, they find that Stress can no longer keep her chest above the ocean.

    “This isn’t going to be a pleasant way to die, is it?” asks Stress, hands bleeding from the abrasive reef. 

    False shakes her head. “No. It isn’t.”

        The ocean is not a kind place. It never pretended to be. The two Hermits just happened to be in its way, and that was not the ocean’s fault. 

    The tide rolls in, just as False’s hand finds Stress’s.

    The tide washes out.

    Their newly-respawned heads break the surface of the water, gasping for air. This time, they’re face-to-face, and the coral is yellow. False wonders if it’s slightly softer than the previous kind, or if she’s just imagining it. Either way. Small blessings.

     Their eyes meet, and they pick up where they left off, only a touch sore. They don’t talk much this time around, except for Stress’s question about the message to Xisuma. And yes, False double-checked it was to the right person. She sends it again in the main chat.

 <FalseSymmetry> anyone there lol?

    Silence. On all fronts. Stress is making good progress on this new coral, until they both have to stop to fight an inquisitive drowned. Not an easy feat, but they manage, though the duo lose more hearts than False would like.

    Stress manages to get a leg free and starts kicking with renewed vigor, until she’s finally out. The water is lapping at their mouths now, as Stress frantically tugs at False’s cage.

    “C’mon,” Stress mutters. “We’re almost there…”

    A wave knocks them both underwater, and by the time Stress resurfaces, further away from False, the blond Hermit is completely submerged. 

    Stress thinks that she has never swum faster in her life as she races toward False, hoping against hope that there’s somehow still time to save her.

    She dives down to False, who is wriggling around frantically. She tugs against the coral, but she knows it’s too late. False lets out a scream, bubbles escaping to the surface, but points to Stress’s left. She’s confused, but she looks anyways--and the trident from the dead drowned is sitting placidly on a piece of sponge, unseen by both of them until now.

    Stress pushes off the battered coral, so close to breaking, but too far, all at the same time. She scoops up the trident and swims back to False, who’s starting to slow, eyes rolling up in the back of her head. With a mighty swipe, she clears the rest of the prison, and drags the unconscious False to the shore.

    Stress retches, the ocean coming out of her lungs in short bursts as she collapses on the warm sand. Next to her, False lies prone. She doesn’t know what to do. Should she put her on her side? Wait, isn’t that for drunk people?

    Hopefully, False will sort it out on her own. Hopefully. In the meantime, Stress realizes that the sun is setting. She needs to get them in a shelter, ASAP. There’s no time for even wood--she just digs out a small hole in a nearby hillside, and, breathing heavily, brings False’s body into it. It just barely fits both of them, but she’s grateful to have it.

    Stress can’t even think about dying again, if it means having to get out of that ocean. Thankfully, she doesn’t have to; False stirs to wakefulness sometime in the middle of the night, greeted with a motley chorus of zombie groans and drowned gurgles, plus a few others that neither of them want to try to name.

    They huddle together in the small chamber, wet dirt and cold stone stealing precious body heat. When morning comes, they stay there for a little while. Neither one wants to be the first one out, but eventually False stands up, the joints in her spine cracking like fireworks. She peeks her head out, but there seems to be no imminent danger at the moment, so she cautiously ventures onto the beach from their escape. A spider lies perched in a small tree nearby, but she leaves it be. As she looks out over the glimmering water, alight with the sun’s first rays, she sees the broken branches of the coral that trapped her and Stress, waves gently carrying away the scattered shards. She watches them for a second, and as she does, the tide washes out.

    The tide rolls in.

    They’re so careful. Neither one of them wants to go back to the awful enclosure of stony coral and risk having to repeat the experience. Monsters are run away from, shelters are dotted around the map like flowers, and their armor has never been more prized. The duo have awful luck mining, though. They barely get enough for decent gear, but Stress reminds False that they’re lucky. Judging by the death messages that scroll through the chat like clockwork, not everyone has been as fortunate as them. And at least they have each other.

    Or they did, before Stress falls into a soft bed of bone-chilling powder snow, along with a few creeper friends.

    False doesn’t ever want to see that same look on Stress’s face ever again. It’s imprinted into her mind now, a mix of surprise and awful resignation.

    She types out a frantic message on her communicator. It doesn’t work. It hasn’t worked for weeks now. She knows it doesn’t work, and Stress does as well. But it doesn’t stop her from imagining where her only companion is right now, sending her chat after chat, begging her to come help her escape from the watery grave.

    False considers respawning. Back where Stress is. She could help her then.

    False would consider herself a practical person at heart, but she has never before been in a situation like this. Hermitcraft has never had a situation like this. She considers her options, falling back against the rough trunk of an oak tree, leaves raining down on her impassive face.

<StressMonster101> drowned.

    She’s taking too much time. There’s no more room for error. Only action. Rustling through her pack, stuffed to the brim now with the remains of Stress’s inventory, she realizes that she has to find a way to get these items back to Stress. If she manages to escape on her own, they can meet up halfway there, and if she doesn’t, then False will have her work cut out for her. 

    It’s a backtrack of nearly two weeks. False does it in four days, not stopping to rest. She wishes desperately for a saddle, but when she happens upon a meadow full of horses, she grabs the nearest one, swinging herself upward onto the back of a very unwilling participant. False doesn’t care. The horse accustoms itself to her surprisingly quickly, and though False’s legs ache from the non-stop bareback ride, she knows she’ll get to Stress sooner with it. Turns out, golden apples can make a horse go through the night.

    She names the horse Salvation. Sal, for short.

    The journey gives her brain too much time to think, so she doesn’t, just hangs on to the death messages in the chat. It’s gruesome, but they reassure her that Stress is even still in this horrible world. 

    Sometimes, there’ll be a lull in the terrible rhythm, but those never last for long.

    During a quick break, she gets bored and puts a braid in Sal’s mane, then uses a few of the nearby flowers to decorate it. She doesn’t realize until she re-mounts him that they’re alliums.

    The tide washes out.

    When False finally arrives at their old beach, she nearly cries in relief. Instead, she screams out Stress’s name as she jumps off of Sal’s back. Stumbling into the waves, she repeats her cry, voice already starting to go hoarse.

    “Stress! I’m here!” False shouts. “Stress!”

    She’s up to her neck now and there’s no sign of her. Maybe she made it out. Maybe False would believe that if she hadn’t just seen her death message on her communicator.

    False treads water, weaving between the elaborate natural structures that make up the reef. She’s almost about to give up when she hears a weak cough, and rounds the corner to find an emaciated Stress, hanging from the coral wrapping her body like an exoskeleton.

    “Stress, Stress, I’m here,” says False, wrapping her arms around the other Hermit’s body as tears start to stream down her face. “Oh my g-d. We need to get you out of here.”

    Stress looks up at her, the first sign of movement she’s shown since False laid eyes on the woman. “You came for me,” she whispers. “You really came.” Her eyes flutter shut.

   The tide rolls in.

    Stress wakes to a gently crying False, who’s sitting beside her on the beach. Attempting a smile, she nudges the other Hermit. “Doing alright?”

    False smiles at her. “Never better.”

    She lets out a whistle. “Ok, so, correct me if I’m wrong, but you managed to get here quite quickly, if you came all the way from where I left?”

    “Sure did.”

    “How?”

    “Well, meet Sal,” False says, pointing towards the forest behind them. “He was a big help.”

    Stress squeals, and she thinks she can almost feel her eyes getting bigger. “Are those flowers?” She hobbles over to the horse, latching onto his neck. “I love him!” 

    False laughs, and Stress thinks she’s never been gladder to hear someone do so.

    “But seriously, though.” False pauses for a second. “I think he’s going to be pretty important if we’re heading towards spawn.”

    Stress nods. “Yeah, I think that’s a good plan. Bound to be a bigger concentration of Hermits there, right?”

    “Exactly. Listen, this time we’re going to be super careful about beds. I’ll make sure we upgrade our armor as much as possible. I’ll do better--”

    Stress puts a finger up to False’s lips, startling her into silence. “Nope. You did the best you absolutely could. I will have absolutely no self-blaming on this road trip.”

    “Road trip?” False asks, nose crinkling.

    “Absolutely.” Stress responds. “This is Hermitcraft! We’re here to have fun and make friends. And I see only one direction for that.”

    “To spawn, then!” False laughs, mounting Sal and hauling Stress up after her. 

    “To spawn!”

    The ocean watches the two ride off with mild interest. They’ll be back, after all. Sooner or later, they’ll always be back. No one can leave for long. But for now, it has other...friends to take care of, and the tide, as always, washes out.

[scatterpatter]

Corren - 1 through 100 - You did this to yourself.

FUCK YOU *UN-IRONICS YOUR ASK*

UNDER THE FUCKING CUT

1. What do they smell like?

Bad. Do you think their party is able to regularly take showers? I thinketh the fuck not. ... Pine and old books when he can self care tho.

2. What is their voice like?

Listen I know Corren, being taller, would be more likely to have a deeper register but you'll tear "tenor Corren" out of my cold dead hands

3. What is their biggest motivator?

Spite.

4. What is their most embarrassing memory?

When he first met his BFF Alondra, he was so antisocial and good at ignoring people that she actually got the impression he might have been hard of hearing. She never let him live that down. (one day I'll finish this fic i promise)

5. How do they deal with/react to pain?

"I will keep all of my pain in here, and one day I'll die." ... Okay but listen he's squishy so he takes like one hit and is bloodied up. Someone get him a healer. Pls.

6. What do they like to wear?

He likes his cloak. Its weighty and soft(well. WAS soft. got a bit of wear and tear these days.) and like. Who doesnt love cloaks.

7. Which of their relationships have impacted them most positively?

Ohhhhh fuuuccck this one's tough. I might have to go with Torvid honestly. While the entire party has had a positive impact on him(and trust me I was this close to picking Alistair), Torvid's been more of the one to call him out on his bullshit and to, oh I don't know, talk about your emotions? Ever??? Yknow BEFORE they become too much to handle and he absolutely breaks down???

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?

Alistair's cooking.

9. Describe the way that they sleep.

Good luck finding him NOT cuddled up with at least one dog. Tbh he just enjoys cuddles in general.

10. What is their favorite food/kind of food?

FUCKIN. GIVE HIM A GOOD STEAK. THIS BOY IS MOSTLY CARNIVORISTIC.

11. What do they feel most insecure about?

As tempted as I am to say "His cooking", it's actually his singing.

12. How do they like to dress?

"Comfort over flashiness tbh. I gotta go ADVENTURING in whatever I wear after all."

"... Also don't you DARE perceive me as cishet."

13. How do they react to feelings of guilt?

Call him a genie because he will BOTTLE THAT SHIT UP.

14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal?

Denial :D

15. What is their greatest achievement?

Shrike: Killing his dad

Me: NOOOOOO

EDIT: WAIT THIS WAS ANSWERED IN Q99 WHAT THE HECK

16. What are they like when they’ve gotten too little sleep?

Somehow more of a dick than usual. Snappy and cranky and just. Mrehhh.

17. What are they like when they’re drunk?

Doesn't get drunk often, but when he does I imagine he's actually giggly and a little clingy. It's cute :)

18. What kind of music do they enjoy?

*Opens my Corren playlist* Oh yeah. It's either full edgy alt rock or indie alt "depressed millenial" tracks.

19. Are they right or left handed?

FFFuuhhhhck uhhhh well

Looking over my old art I can't seem to pick a dominant hand(I've even drawn him handling his sniper with either hand???????????) so like oops guess he's ambidextrous.

20. Fears?

The dark, the ocean, dying alone and forgotten, his friends losing their trust of him

21. Favorite kind of weather?

Rain!!!! Especially cool rain like what people often get in fall months.

22. Favorite color?

Indigo!!!

23. Do they collect anything?

Books :3

24. Do they prefer either hot or cold weather more?

Cold weather by far.

25. What is their eye color?

Electric blue!

26. What is their race/ethnicity?

Well his race is a homebrew race known as Marelienth. Uhhh ethnicity? Idk he's from a mountain town way up north *shrugs*

In human aus I imagine him as half-Mongolian half-Norwegian so ayee

27. Hair color?

Black!

28. Are they happy where they are currently?

No :D He loves adventuring with his party don't get me wrong but he still has a lot of trauma to unpack. ... Also he was just possibly broken up with soooo. :/

29. Are they a morning person?

NOPE.

30. Sunrise or sunset?

*motions to above question* Sunset.

31. Are they more messy or more organized?

More organized, actually!

32. Pet peeves?

*unravels a list. It's all shit the party has done. Mostly Alistair.*

33. Do they own any objects of significant personal importance?

HOOUSIDSJFK- HE- Y-YEAH HE SURE DOES

His amethyst pendant used to belong to his brother, Julian, and he gave it to Corren right before they were separated so you BET it's sentimental as shit and he wears it daily.

34. Least favorite food?

Mecha's usually a great cook but one time trolled him with some absurdly spicy curry he couldn't handle and he's never forgiven them.

35. Least favorite color?

Hmmm. Maybe... yellow?

36. Least favorite smell?

He spent a year with his party in a damp cave and no showers, so uh. I'll give you a guess.

37. When was the last time they cried?

Literally last night in our game's timeline :D Full breakdown and everything!

38. Were they with anybody the last time they cried?

Torvid :D He was there to comfort

39. Tell us about one of the times they got injured?

One time they were in combat and Corren took a few hits and was down to about 2hp or so. He had a temporary level thanks to Kieran, which boosted his HP a little bit. When he teleported them to a safe town, though, well... Torvid was waiting for them so that's cool. But uh. Yeah that temporary level wore off then and there, dropping Corn Cob to exactly 0hp and he just- flopped down face first in the snow and started dying then and there KJNDKLFNSLKN

40. Do they have any scars?

:)

Do you want to talk about the scar over his eye from a fight he got in with his dad or like. The scars on his limbs from the time he was literally experimented on.

41. Do they struggle with any mental health issues?

:)

Undiagnosed+Untreated Anxiety, Depression, DPDR, PTSD, just to name a few

42. Do they have any bad habits?

Running away from his problems, definitely.

43. Why might someone dislike them?

He's a pretentious nerd. He can be a dick if he doesn't care about you.

44. Why might someone love them?

He's an adorable nerd! He's a hopeless romantic and oddly enough an optimist. He's passionate and driven too!

45. Do they believe in ghosts?

Well ghosts are like- a canon proven thing in his world sooo. Yeah.

46. Is there anyone they would trust with their lives?

His party. Well- most in his party.

47. Are they romantically interested in anyone?

Nethyl :)

48. Are they dating/married to anyone?

He's dating Nethyl and they're in a happy and healthy relationship :) *politely ignores canon*

49. Do they like surprises?

NO >:(

50. When is their birthday?

Heroya 5th! I think. I don't wanna check, assume it's this.

51. How do they usually celebrate their birthday?

"You guys celebrate your watchdays?"

Jokes aside, he mainly just treats himself to a nice dinner and a new book or something :)

52. Do they have any family?

Two older siblings: Julian and Mila. His parents are Andreas and Fanya!

53. Are they close to their family?

... *Coughs*. He was close with his siblings, but Mila died and he hasn't seen Julian in 30 years. Was close with his dad but last time they saw each other, they fought and Corren might have killed him so. ... Yeah. :/

54. What is their MBTI type?

FUCK uh. I... N... T... J? INTJ. Sure.

55. What is their zodiac sign?

In Sekrezia: The eagle

In our world: Uhhh. Idk. Capricorn????

56. What Hogwarts House would they be in?

Uhhh. Ravenclaw??? I know almost nothing about HP :/

57. What D&D alignment are they?

THIS ONE'S EASY- lawful neutral!

58. Do they ever have nightmares? If so, what about?

:)

Used to have typical nightmares, nothing special. Nowadays though he often dreams of being underwater. Not drowning, though. It's... weird. He doesn't like those.

59. What are their views on death?

He's a necromancer lol.

Death is inevitable, though. It's a necessary part of life. Death is not an entire loss, though. One lives on in the memories others carry of them, in the love they hold in their hearts. Death is complicated, but that's okay.

60. What is something that they’re sure to laugh at?

Alistair :)

61. When bored, how do they pass time?

Dog time :)

62. Do they enjoy being outside?

... Ehhhhhh?

63. Do they have an accent?

Technically??? It's an accent from where he's from but like. I just barely tweak my own voice when I rp him so? Damn Corren I'm sorry you've been cursed with east coast dialect.

64. Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, what is their first reaction?

"Damn who's the rich bastard here?" (cake is kinda a delicacy in their world- not like elites only but not NEARLY as common as it is here)

65. If they knew they were going to die, what would they do/say?

Reassurance mode to whomever he's with. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm okay. Remember what I told you, death is a natural part of life, yeah? I don't have any regrets, I'm okay... Just. Thanks. For giving me a chance. Thank you. Thank you."

66. How do they feel about sex?

I SWEAR he's allosexual. I'm just bad at writing allosexuals.

67. What is their sexuality?

He doesn't really know how to pin it down, so he just calls himself "queer". Definitely not straight, that's all he knows.

68. Do they become squeamish at the sight of blood?

AHAHA no. He's hella desensitized

69. Is there anything that they find really gross?

Skulking cyst. Look it up at your own volition. It's. NO.

70. Which TV Trope(s) best describes them?

It's 12:21 in the morning and I'm NOT about to scroll through a bunch of tv tropes just. just. NERD stereotype.

71. Do they enjoy helping people?

Yyyyes? Only really if it's the people he cares about.

72. Are they allergic to anything?

Bullshit.

73. Do they have a pet?

WINGTHARA!! HIS SKELE-DOG!!!

74. Are they quick to anger? What are they like when they loose their temper?

Oh yeah he's all bark and no bite. He usually just throws a little fit and/or yells.

75. How patient are they?

More than he should be :/

76. Are they good at cooking?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

77. Favorite insult? Do they insult people often?

Oh yes he insults the others all the time. No particular favorite, he likes so spice it up.

78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy?

Stim. Stim. Stim. His eyes get all sparkly and he. He.

79. What do they do when they learn about other people’s fears?

He will do everything in his power to assure they won't ever have to deal with their fears alone- You afraid of spiders? It's his job to get the spiders from now on so you won't have to deal with them.

80. Are they trustworthy?

Oh yeah. He's like Rapunzel- doesn't break promises.

81. Do they try to hide their emotions? Are they good at it?

Oh yes he tries to hide it. And yes, he's awful at it.

82. Do they exercise regularly?

Yes and no? No like- exercise regimen, but the amount of travelling and fighting they do is just- a workout in and of itself

83. Are they comfortable with the way they look?

Yeah! He's cute and he knows it baybie!!!

84. What are some physical features that they find attractive on people?

He,,, he likes someone who's physically stong,,, Muscles are,,, aaaaa >///>

85. What kind of personalities do they find attractive?

Someone he can nerd out with :)

86. Do they like sweet foods?

Impartial to it. He won't turn sweets away but he's not crazy about them either.

87. What is their age?

43, the equivalent of- I think someone in their mid 30s?

88. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between?

He's 6'8" :) Which is actually normal for his race

89. Do they wear glasses or contacts?

Sometimes! I like to think he has reading glasses or something like that.

90. Do they consider themselves attractive?

HE'S CUTE AND HE KNOWS IT.

91. What is their sense of humor like?

Julian tainted his sense of humor and now he finds the most dumb shit hilarious. Think very millenial/GenZ humor like "I wish I was Jared, 19"

92. What mood are they most often in?

"I don't get paid enough for this" or Fear.jpg

93. What kinds of things anger them?

People who don't keep their FUCKING WORD. Oh and like. Yknow. Half the shit his party does.

94. Outlook on life?

Again he's??? Oddly an optimist? In the "Things will get better and that is a fucking THREAT" way, but still optimist!

95. What kind of things make them sad/depressed?

Talk about his family :) Or the fact that his boyfriend might want him dead :)

96. What is their greatest weakness?

He's squishy as fuck. He goes down easy.

97. What is their greatest strength?

He's extremely intelligent and great with magic and his sniper!

98. Something that they regret?

Not doing more to stop his brother when he tried to resurrect their sister

99. Biggest accomplishment?

Either convincing an entire town his name is Torren or accidentally convincing some very OP people that he's secretly a dragon.

100. Create your own!

FUCK YOU I SPENT LIKE 2 HOURS ON THIS. NO PROOFREAD. IVE ALREADY DESIGNED CORREN'S AND NETHYL'S HYPOTHETICAL KIDS. ANYWAYS THEY'RE TWIN IRINAGA AND I'VE NAMED THEM AFTER THE DNDADS TWINS: THEIR NAMES ARE LARK AND SPARROW.

[ellewords]

daichi is the designated driver at parties (after everyone becomes legal, of course. if he catches anyone underage drinking, he purposefully lectures the hell out of them because he knows forcing them to sit through a talk where he is overly serious and overbearing and the like is more likely to work than yelling at them and getting on their case about it). he’s been doing it ever since the third years became of legal age to drink because asahi is a bit of a light weight despite his size, and suga, while not nearly as bad as asahi, tends to get out of hand when he has a few too many drinks. on days when he does feel like drinking, he caps it off at two, regardless of the type of alcohol, and he always makes sure that he (and anyone else drinking) has a ton of water and food in between. he’s not exactly motherly about it because he knows everyone is more than capable of taking care of themselves, but he does sometimes accidentally slip into his signature look/tone combo if someone doesn’t finish the water and/or snacks he gave them in between every two or three drinks.

there’s only been one time that daichi got legitimately wasted, and he vows to never do it again. if anyone asks, it’s because he didn’t like the feeling of waking up hungover the next morning, but suga accidentally lets it slip one night after he was a few drinks in that it’s really because daichi becomes a super emotional drunk. he cries at even the slightest inconvenience, he opens up about his feelings an embarrassing amount, and he becomes super affectionate. asahi even has footage of daichi crying all over suga about how much he loved the first years after going to the last game of their third year to cheer them on. (asahi doesn’t address the fact that his loud sniffling is also heard from behind the camera or that suga is literally cooing at daichi as he pets his messy hair down.)

daichi gives everyone the deadliest glare of his life when he walks in on the team watching the video play for the fourth time and laughing their asses off, and suddenly, it’s as if the video never existed in the first place. though asahi never deletes the video, everyone silently agrees that it will never be talked about again. though, the team does try to secretly get daichi drunk a few times afterwards. it doesn’t work. unfortunately.

i think this is the shortest hc i’ve ever sent in to you, wow. you proud of me, elle? 🥰 lol, jk, hope you’re having a good day, and good luck with studying and such! -🌙

—  from elle ! haha it might be the shortest, but it was still packed with such amazing *chef’s kiss* hcs >_< pls designated driver-emotional drunk!daichi ??? pls that’s literally me ngl lowkey feels like i was reading about myself hahaha but anyways as usual, a couple short lil scenarios with the team under the cut because the karasuno dynamics live in my head rent free ;-; tysm for this 🌙anon !! <3 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

asahi was the lookout, surely with all that height, he’d be able to see daichi coming from a mile away. he didn’t need to see the video again, having lived through the actual experience himself. besides, that video lived on his phone anyways. he could just watch it whenever he wanted to.

but suga didn’t have that kind of an advantage, phone in his hands as all the other members crowded around him, trying their hardest to keep their mouths shut. even kiyoko was trying to hide her snickers with the back of her hand. 

everyone knew that they were already on pretty thin ice with daichi, him having caught them three times just in the past week. but they just couldn’t resist, even as daichi shook his head and made them do extra drills as a response.

“and the first years,” daichi bawled, words barely understandable through all the tears that came from his eyes, “they have so much potential, so much ahead of them...it just makes me so proud, you know?”

daichi gently hits the area over his heart to emphasise his point, leaning his head on suga’s shoulder. his face was flushed red, a thin layer of cold sweat on his forehead. eyes puffy and nose very clearly runny, asahi hands him a tissue from behind the camera.

“awe,” suga cooed, brushing daichi’s hair back. it’s clear that he’s holding in his laughter, given that he was biting his lip each time daichi sniffled, “you gonna miss them?”

daichi nodded, using the tissue asahi had given him a few moments ago. “i just love them so much, i hope that we were at least good mentors to them. that they remember us when we go.”

the camera shakes ever so slightly as asahi could no longer hold back his own tears. if they listened close enough, they could hear a quiet, “yeah.”

“...and the second years,” daichi continued, unable to stop himself, “i just hope they know that they could still reach out to us...if they ever need anything. i know that they’ll do a good job but it would be nice if they updated us every now and—”

“and just what exactly are you watching?”

they hear a voice in front of them, chills creeping up their spines, blood running cold. everyone’s faces paled as daichi stood, hands crossed in front of his chest, gazing in front of them with the deathliest glare they had ever seen from him.

no other words needed to be spoken. asahi had his head hung low, already deleting the video as soon as suga tossed the phone to him. just like that an agreement was made, no one speaks of the video ever again.

__

the only time it was ever brought up was the little party they had in honor of the third years graduating. it was held at the gym, decorations kept simple — just a banner that yachi had made and a couple of balloons floating about.

the night was already winding down, everybody had eaten, music was kept at a low volume for ease of conversation. soon enough, it would be time for everyone to say goodbye.

“everyone!” nishinoya called out, loud as ever as he gestured towards ennoshita who made his way to the center of the room, “i believe our new captain wants to say something.”

 everyone gathered around him, cups of soda in hand as they anticipated his words. daichi had passed the baton onto him, the role of leader, captain. he wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t regret it.

“tonight we say goodbye to our third years...” ennoshita started, a sad smile making its way to his face.

“hey!” suga called out, a laugh threatening to break away from his lips, “don’t make us sound like we’re dying! we’re only graduating.”

“right, sorry.” a flustered flush colored his face. still, he continued his little speech, “you four mean a lot to us. taught us many things in and out of the court.”

the team nodded along, agreeing with his words.

“ i know that you think we’ll do a good job, but i just want you to know that we will definitely be reaching out to you whenever we need anything. we’ll definitely be updating you every now and then too.”

asahi’s eyes narrowed, why were these words just a little too familiar? oh no, these were daichi’s words from that video...

everyone else had caught on pretty quickly, smiles threatening to form on their lips as the video was still unable to leave their heads for the past few weeks. tsukishima was the first to add on to ennoshita’s speech, “yeah, and don’t worry, we know how much potential you think we have.”

tanaka smirked, a certain amount of pride lacing his voice, “i'm sure these first years definitely know how much they have ahead of them. but we’ll be good mentors like you were.”

“we’ll miss you too!” 

“we definitely won’t forget you!”

suga and asahi looked towards daichi, just a little bit nervous. by that point, they had assumed that everyone had forgotten about it and moved on. obviously that was not the case, since the entire team had the biggest grins on their faces. suga and asahi expected a glare, or at least an uncomfortable look.

but he’s smiling, fondly, gaze warm and soft. daichi could tell they were being sincere, despite the teasing tone in their voices. 

so he lets it slide this time.

and also because daichi just knew :  he was definitely going to miss this. 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what are the hq characters like at a party?  |  written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot​

join my hq taglist here. <3

[moskaisley]

thin walls

gif cred: @mrpascals​

rating: NC-17 lol

word count: 3.1k 

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT!! 18+ !! graphic depictions of sex, auralism, mentions of alcohol, jealousy, dumb oblivious clownery, a lil pining, a smidge of angst at the end u know me

a/n: 

this is a side story for my ongoing series “migraine” !! 

i NEEDED to write something fun since the last part of migraine was so angsty. i really wanted to just explore them having fun together and being bros!!! just vibin!!! being young and dumb!!! and ofc their obvious sexual tension before migraine girl and mando started their romantic relationship. idk when part 5 will be out since i have finals next week, but i definitely dont want to wait a month to post it LOL 

for now, enjoy this fun and sexy romcom bullshit 

summary:

“You’re the worst wingman ever,” You tease as you kick his calf lightly.

He kicks you back, “Look, the night isn’t over yet. I bet I can get at least one of these people to talk to you.”

You ponder over his challenge for a moment, and then shoot him a mischievous grin. Reaching into a pouch on your belt, you slap some credits onto the table.

“Spoils go to the winner,” you say with a smile, “You have one shot. Blow it and we both go home, casanova.” 

ao3 link

A rough shove from behind nearly had you on your ass in the middle of the firefight. A blaster shot whizzes by your head, nearly clipping you as you struggle to maintain your balance. Another shot goes off, and you hear a body crumple to the ground. You snarl as you bring your elbow around, only for it to be caught by a strong hand. 

“Easy!” Qin’s voice echoes in your ears, “A ‘thanks’ would be nice.”

You scoff, roughly tearing your arm from his grip, “I nearly sliced you in half, crazy bastard.”

“Oi, don’t get all riled up, sweetheart. If it weren’t for me, you’d be dead.”

“I’m not your fuckin’ sweetheart, Qin.”

He grunts, waving you off in annoyance. Rolling your eyes, you turn around to proceed forward, ready to berate your beskar clad partner for not watching your back. Yet, to your frustration, The Mandalorian is already far down the hallway, Xi’an bouncing in tow.

--

You’re not jealous.

You say it to yourself when you wordlessly slip away from your coworkers upon returning to one of Ran’s hangars, ignoring their confused looks and the “Oh Mando, you’re so in trouble” from Vidar. You say it to yourself when you lazily bonk your head against the shower wall in frustration, and you nearly scream it when you hear Xi’an’s breathy giggles from his bunk. 

This had been going on for weeks now.

A scrap sheet of durasteel could probably muffle more sound than the current wall you shared with the Mandalorian. And while for the most part, he was a respectful neighbor, it was times like these that you wished you could throw yourself into dead space. The first time you confronted him about the noise, it was almost cute at how awkward he was in apologizing to you. That night, amidst the wanton moans and cries of ecstasy coming from next door, you kept hearing him shush the Twi’lek in that gentle, gravelly voice of his. Even then, every noise still drifted into your bunk, but you decided to be merciful and save him any more embarrassment by keeping quiet. (You made a note in your head, though. He so owes you for this.) Instead, you picked up an old busted radio from the market, fixing it up and tuning in during crises like these. It only connected to one station, but you’d take Val Syko’s Quenk Jazz Jams over the sounds of your partner’s pleasure any day. 

But tonight, drowning in the funky sounds of Val’s extensive music collection wasn’t doing it for you. Mando’s groan echoes dully off the walls of your room, and your thighs instinctually press together in an attempt to quell the warmth pooling at your core. You press your fingers to the bridge of your nose. It was unfair, really. Mando was getting action at least once a week, yet your pool kept coming up empty, and you refused to fuck around with any of your current colleagues. Sighing, you check your watch; the night is still young and therefore, incredibly long. Your eyes dart over to your tiny closet, pursing your lips together in apprehension. Another one of Xi’an’s moans rings in your ears.

You know what? Fuck it.

It’s almost comical how the ship falls into abrupt silence when you knock on his door. 

“I’m going out,” you say quickly before he could open the door. Silence follows and you roll your eyes. 

“Don’t wait up. I’ll be late.”

--

You’re not sure why you thought your luck would change tonight. 

You were nursing your second drink, lazily twisting the straw in the glass and scanning around the cantina for anyone who could catch your eye. On your first round, there was a cute redhead who gave you a sweet compliment on your outfit, but your hope died when she slipped into a booth next to her boyfriend on the other side of the room. You let out a long, exasperated sigh, letting your head drop as you squeeze your eyes shut. This was a dumb idea. You’re gonna be listening to those two all night while Val plays that one song from Mooneyes for the thousandth kriffing time–

“Is this seat taken?”

You groan loudly at his stupid fucking modulated voice.

“I’ll take that as a no.” 

Mando slips into the stool next to you, leaning against the bar as he tilts his head.

“I wondered where you ran off to.”

“I can have my fun too, Mando.”

“Clearly,” he quips, gesturing to your lonely exasperated form, huddled over your drink.

“You’re so annoying, you know that?” 

You shove him and he laughs, head shaking at how easy you are to tease. Rolling your eyes, you take a sip from your drink. He shuffles a little, subtly leaning to the right, visor skimming over your backside. You smirk, catching him in the act.

“Hey!” You snap your fingers in front of his helmet, “Eyes up here, tin can.”

Pushing your hand to the side, he takes the hem of it in between his fingers and says, “I didn’t know you had clothes like these.”

“What? This old thing?”

Though your lifestyle didn’t allow for a big wardrobe, there were a few times you would indulge yourself in some of the finer things. The dress was oxblood in color, made of soft velvet with a high neck and open back. It hugged your body snugly, ending just above your knees with a leg slit that traveled up your thigh. It took a decent chunk from your paycheck, and you were so compelled to buy it that you didn’t even consider where you’d wear it. But you loved the way it made you feel, and it was a lovely change of pace from the typical bounty hunter getup you often sported.

“It looks nice on you,” he tells you, nonchalantly.

You swallow hard as his gloved fingers brush against your thigh. Dizzying warmth washes over you. What the hell? Drunk already?

“Thanks.”

“What’s the occasion?” He asks you, releasing his hold on your dress.

You shoot him a sardonic smile as you raise your glass, as if you’re toasting.

“I’m taking applications for a new partner. My old one was too busy getting his dick wet and I almost got shot. Had to be saved by Qin, of all people.”

“I dunno, Qin could be a worthy candidate. He seems to be very friendly with you, too.”

“Are you insane? He’s a kriffing psychopath. Almost as crazy as your girlfriend.”

“Hey, she’s not–”

You cock your brows at him and smirk.

He playfully punches your arm as you take another sip. 

“Alright, alright. I get it,” he says as you laugh at him, “Let me make it up to you. Are you trying to go home with someone tonight? I can be your wingman.”

You snort at the thought, “Yeah right. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Mando but you’re not exactly the most approachable person. And besides, no one here is really catching my eye. I think I’m just gonna go.”

You’re moving to stand up and pay until he grabs your arm to keep you still.

“No, wait. C’mon, stay. Lets–Let’s just have some fun.”

You smile earnestly at him; Mando’s insistence to spend time with you genuinely warms your heart, so you lean back to your seat and flag down the bartender.

--

Though a second set of eyes helped in checking out people that you may have overlooked, it kind of defeated the purpose when that set of eyes was known for being one of the fiercest warriors throughout the galaxy. You thought you were able to catch the eye of a particularly dashing fighter pilot, exchanging flirty glances and a little wave. But the second he saw you in an exchange with a Mandalorian, he was quick to dash out the cantina without so much as saying a word to you. Mando kept insisting you both stay, denying that his intimidating armor had any effect on your chances of getting laid.

“Mando, I’m telling you this in the nicest way possible, but you’re scaring people off.”

“Maybe they just like what they see.”

“You’re the worst wingman ever,” You tease as you kick his calf lightly.

He kicks you back, “Look, the night isn’t over yet. I bet I can get at least one of these people to talk to you.”

You ponder over his challenge for a moment, and then shoot him a mischievous grin. Reaching into a pouch on your belt, you slap some credits onto the table.

“Spoils go to the winner,” you say with a smile, “You have one shot. Blow it and we both go home, casanova.”

Needless to say, he fails. Miserably. 

The first person he goes up to must’ve been guilty of something. Because as soon as the Mandalorian stalks around the corner to his seat, the poor soul tosses his drink at him and dashes out the door. The metal man stands for a second in shock, and you see his shoulders slack as he lets out a defeated sigh. He rounds the bar back to you, Corellian rum dripping off his helmet and all over his beskar. Your stomach hurts trying to suppress the laughter building inside you, but you couldn’t help it. Your hand flies to your mouth as you snort loudly, laughing so hard that tears almost form in your eyes. You didn’t expect the night to go this way and your endeavors for a hookup had failed terribly, but it still made you happy to spend time with your friend all the same. 

“That wasn’t fair. Let me try again.”

You struggle to form a response between your laughs, “No–no way! I–I can’t watch that again.”

“C’mon, I didn’t even get to try. Gimme another chance.”

You shake your head, taking your credits off the table and slipping them back into your pouch. 

“Nope, rules are rules, Mando. Let’s just get outta here.”

“No way, I refuse to give up so–”

“She asked you to leave, buddy.”

You turn to look at the new voice, confused and a bit irritated for interrupting your exchange with Mando. You’re met with green eyes, strong shoulders, sexy scruff, olive skin, and a very dashing smile. Your retaliation dies in your throat, and your lips curl into a smile. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Mando didn’t pick up on this though, “No, it’s not like that. We were just–”

“He was just going, actually. Right, Mando?” You look back at him and give him a wink, “I think I’ve had enough of you today.”

His helmet tilts upward in surprise, and then he chuckles lightly.

“Okay, then.”

He slides off his stool, gesturing to it for your new friend before walking out of the cantina. You watch Mando walk out the door, and the man takes over his seat.

“Was he bothering you?”

“No, actually,” You give him a sweet smile, “He’s a friend.”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, “Friends with a Mandalorian, eh? What’s that like?”

“Well, they make awful wingmen,” you joke. 

“Is that so?”

“Why? Looking to take his place?”

“No, I’m here to buy you a drink.”

Catching your bottom lip with your teeth, you smile and your heart flutters.

“What’s your name?”

“Deo.”

--

He presses you up against the wall of the cantina outside, hands snaking up your waist and lips pressing hard against yours. Deo grabs and pulls at your flesh, slipping his tongue in your mouth and you moan against him. It’s been so long since you’ve felt someone this way, and it makes your skin sing in pleasure. When he pulls away, he keeps his forehead up against yours, breaths labored and heavy.

“So, mine or yours?”

A devious grin crosses your lips, “Mine.”

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

You take his hand into yours, clinging to his arm for balance. The drinks have finally caught up to you and there’s a pleasant buzz warming your body as you try your best not to stumble through the streets. As you make it back to the Razor Crest, you stop in front of the side gate, opening the hatch as Deo’s hand meets the small of your back. You pull him up into the loading dock, and he digs his face into your neck, biting at the skin as you press buttons on the door panel. When it shuts, he pushes you up against the wall of the ship, sucking at the skin beneath your jaw and grinding his pelvis up against your ass. You try to suppress a mewl, as you push off the wall and turn to him. 

“Not here,” you whisper.

“Why not here?”

A muffled whimper comes from further away, and both of your heads abruptly turn to the source of the noise coming from behind Mando’s door.

Deo looks back to you, brows furrowed, “You sure this ship is yours, honey? Looks occupied.”

“Roommate. He won’t bother us, though.”

You shove him off of you and saunter over to your own bunk door. You turn around and beckon him to come with a single finger.

“C’mere.”

--

Your dress, along with Deo’s clothes, was left forgotten on the ground of your tiny room. He was quick to the draw, pulling your legs up so they wrapped around his hips and holding your ass for support. He pressed you up against the wall, pushing his cock inside you. You moan loudly, relishing in the feeling of his length filling up your pussy and the pressure of him crowding you against the metal. 

And that’s when you realize–

Deo is fucking you up against the wall you share with Mando. 

The mere thought of it makes you clench tighter around him and the smile on your face is downright devilish. Your partner can hear every lewd noise you make, just as you’d heard his, and it drove you crazy. Your body flushes with heat, wetness pooling at your core. Your arms pull Deo tighter against you, burying him deeper inside and mewling against his neck.

“Maker, you think he can hear you, honey?”

“Probably,” You let a breathy laugh against him, “Thin walls.”

A distinctly modulated groan echoes from behind you and you can’t suppress the grin that spreads along your lips.

Bastard.

You pull at the base of Deo’s neck, and guide his head to your chest. He nips and sucks at your collar bone, leaving another mark along your skin. Lifting a hand from your ass, he brings it to your breast, kneading it in his hands and running his thumb over your nipple. You whine as he begins to pinch it in between his fingers while he fucks up into you. Coincidentally, Mando’s moans reach your ears again only seconds later. 

So we’re playing this game, are we?

You squeeze Deo’s shoulder, the knot in your lower belly getting tighter and tighter the more you focus on the noises coming from the next room over. You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help the image of your partner holding you like this, fucking you relentlessly against the wall you shared. You wonder if he looks anything like Deo; does he have the same green eyes? Or are they brown? What about his lips? How do they feel against yours? Your neck? Your cunt? You imagine that it’s his hands clutching and squeezing your soft flesh, his cock stretching you open, his stupid fucking voice whispering praises in your ear. 

“F–Fuck! I’m gonna cum,” you panted, pressure building up inside you, aching for release.

You swore, you heard Mando’s breath hitch behind you.

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum all over my cock.”

You nearly scream as you come undone around Deo, waves of pleasure washing over you. In your haze, a single thought crosses your mind: Mando was chasing his own release as well.

You know it, you feel it.

So you moan again.

--

“I had a good time tonight.” 

“I did too.”

You hug your body tightly, the air of the hangar was cool against your skin, and you were clad in only a thin shirt and shorts. Deo is holding your upper arms, smiling softly at you as you shivered.

Brushing a strand of hair away from your face, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“We should do this again sometime,” he whispers against your skin, “Maybe, somewhere without your little roommate?”

You giggle, warmth heating up your cheeks.

“We’ll see.”

He bids you goodnight, and you walk back into the Crest, shutting the ramp behind you. You’re turning to go to bed when the sound of your partner’s door makes you freeze. The Mandalorian emerges, free of his beskar armor save for his helmet. He stops when he sees you, surprised by your presence at this hour. You stare at each other in silence for a few moments. 

And then you snicker, and he does too.

A pleasant feeling blooms in your chest at the sound of his laugh. You take a few steps closer to him, letting your arms fall to your sides.

“So,” he begins in a low voice, “You didn’t hear any of that, right?”

“Hear what?” You ask him, innocently, “I was a little preoccupied.”

“Really? I didn’t notice.”

You hold a hand against your mouth and giggle. 

“So,” he murmurs, “Who was he?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Mando cocks his head to the side, and you swear you see a glint of mischief flash along the t-shape of his visor. 

“Well, if I’m not mistaken,” he starts, taking a step closer to you. Your heart picks up in pace.

He gently pushes aside the collar of your shirt to reveal deep red marks blooming along your neck. Your stomach flips at the feeling of his bare fingers along your collarbone. Your throat goes dry.

“You owe me some credits.”

He stays still like this for a moment, and you take a deep breath, his touch feeling electric against your skin. When he goes to remove his hand, it’s instinct when you reach for it, clutching it and holding it in place. You feel him tense beneath you as your fingers wrap his palm. You swallow hard, drinking him in beneath the lowlight of the ship: the shine of his dumb helmet, how he towers over you, the warmth of his presence. 

You squeeze his hand, and to your surprise, he squeezes it back. His thumb traced over your fingers, and in your boldness, you gently pull it towards your cheek. 

“Mando?” you hear Xi’an’s voice call from his room. 

You shut your eyes tight, heart dropping to your stomach. Her call felt like ice water dumping over you, killing the warm, fuzzy feeling that engulfed you only moments earlier. You drop his hand quickly. You hug yourself, fingers buzzing so wildly with nerves, you need to hold it close to keep your hand from shaking. You clear your throat and shoot him a weak smile, avoiding his gaze. Bristling past him, you stop in your doorway and whisper.

“Goodnight, Mando.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

-

i imagine deo as jake gyllenhaal when he played mysterio just less of a crackhead. :)

taglist

@bella-ciaao @tiffdawg @peggers-n-beggers @sinnamon-bunn @adlerorzel-blog​ @theocatkov​ @paryl

thank u for reading, space cowboys <3

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #457

“blue are the words i say and what i think  /  blue are the feelings that live inside of me”

Do you buy your lingerie at Victoria’s Secret? No. That shit is so overpriced and not for my size group. Would you ever use an online dating service? I never would again. Are you good at multitasking? ABSOLUTELY NOT. Have you ever eaten Frosted Mini Wheats? Ugh, those are so gross. What does your bikini look like? You think THIS bitch wears a bikini??????????????????????? Does age really matter in a relationship? To an extent, yes. How much does the last person you kissed mean to you? I honestly don't even know if I'd be here without her. Almost like magic, Sara popped back into my life right after I returned home from the hospital following my suicide attempt. She helped make recovery possible as a solid source of support. Do you use lotion? Not NEARLY enough. My skin is so dry; I need to. Do you believe in teenage love? I experienced it deeply and thoroughly, so yes. Have you ever sat on the roof of your house? No. Do you like Sublime? I like that one popular one of theirs. "Santaria" or whatever it's called? What’s your favorite movie genre? Paranormal horror, especially the "found footage" type. It's creepy to imagine it being actually real. Is there a celebrity that you’d be willing to have a one night stand with? If he was single? I know in my gut I would lmaooooo Do you want to live in your current town the rest of your life? OH MY GOD PLEASE NO If you found out today your best friend was gay what would you do? She's demisexual, so. She can like anybody. If you could get a pet for free today-what kind/what name? A tegu, because it wouldn't need an enclosure that I don't have. I'd let it free roam. God, I can only imagine Roman's reaction. How many people have you slept with? If you mean what I think you do by "slept," one. Do you ever wish you had a family business to become a part of? Not really. What’s the most gruesome way you could come up with to kill someone? Hunny, have you seen my dark RP????? The world best be glad I'm a pacifist lmfao Do you think anyone deserves to die that way? I don't believe in torture, so no. If you had to fight for survival, what would your weapon of choice be? A gun, I guess? I'd want something with range and that's quick. I wanted to say a bow and arrow, but preparing another arrow after shooting once could really cost you your life. Where did you buy your favorite pair of jeans? I don't wear jeans anymore. Do you have a large dog? We don't have a dog, period. If not, are you afraid of them? No, I love big 'ole puppos!!!!! I just don't wanna own a dog myself. Are you good at playing darts? Holy fuck no, I have NO hand-eye coordination. I once stabbed the guy at a balloon popping booth thing with a dart in the arm, if that tells you anything, ooooooooooof. Do you like breaded chicken sandwiches? YESSSSSSSSS omg Do your parents know that/if you smoke? They know that I don’t. Have you ever been under a blacklight? Omg so in elementary school, we did this thing once where we all washed our hands as best we could and then put them under some sort of light (maybe a blacklight, idk???) to see JUST how resilient germs are. You gotta scrub the fuck out ya hands, people. How many pounds do you want to lose? I'd rather not share a number, but a lot. What’s your favorite natural phenomenon? The Northern Lights. Do you snore? Very surprisingly for someone with sleep apnea like mine, I actually don't. How many people do you know with the same first name as you? Off the very top of my head, one, but it's spelled differently. I KNOW I know of a shitload more Brittanys, though. Is it possible you could be pregnant? Well, I haven't been intimate with a man in years and just finished my period, so like- Could you go a day without texting? I go most days without texting. Do you have a step-parent? My dad is remarried, so yes. If so, do you get along with them? She's EXTREMELY Christian, so her beliefs wildly disagree with mine, but I keep my mouth shut a lot just to keep the peace. She IS a very sweet woman, nevertheless, and am glad she and my dad are so happy together. Does your current/last job require that you wear a uniform? My last job (which lasted not even two hours lol) did. When will your driver’s license expire? My permit has been expired for like... two years. Do you live in an apartment? No. If the last person you kissed proposed to you what would you say? That's too wild a concept to even imagine. I'd probably ask if she was okay lmao. Would you ever get back with one of your exes? Weeeelp, I want to get back together with Girt. Pretty badly. Write a foreign word, and what it means: "Schadenfreude" is a German term that essentially means secondhand embarrassment, but it doesn't have a perfect translation. Is there an ex you think about everyday? Inevitably. That's PTSD, my friends. Who is the last person that you said I love you to, besides family members? Sara. What's the worst thing you have ever said to anyone? Something along the lines of "no one could ever love you like I do." It boils my blood just typing that; I considered even deleting this question. That quote right there is fucking manipulation, even IF I thoroughly believed it. Who was the last person to comment one of your pictures? I don't feel like looking. Do you tend to go for older or younger when looking for someone to date? It's weird, I'm into slightly older-than-me guys, but probably girls who are barely a bit younger than me. Have you ever been used? I don't think so. Have you ever not been able to get someone out of your head? Like I've said in plenty of surveys: Jason is probably a permanent fixture. But also as of the past two days, Girt's been living up there. I went from "hmmm I just don't know how I feel" to "FUCK I want to talk to him about how stupidly into him I am right this fucking INSTANT" pretty goddamn fast. It kinda scares me just because of how extreme my feelings are. Again. That's only ever gotten me hurt. Buuuut let's not get into that. Have you ever got caught cheating on a test? No, because I've never tried to. Will your next kiss be a mistake? I hope it won't be. But it's not like I know the future. Have you ever worn an oxygen mask? Actually yes, when I was young and thought I was having an asthma attack or something. Mom had one for her own asthma. Then I obviously wore one for surgery. What song do you want to be played at your funeral? "Paradise" by Coldplay is absolutely #1. How many swear words are in the song you’re listening to? I'm not listening to music; I'm back to watching Gab play Sekiro. What color was the last swimsuit you wore? Black. Have you ever kissed anyone of the same sex, and if so, who? Yeah, just Sara. Who did you last tell to ‘shut up’? Ha, I think my WoW friend Lyndsey, but only playfully, of course. We pick fun at each other all the time. Would you ever get a tattoo of a boyfriend/girlfriend's name? NOOOOOOOOO. Are you one of those girls who already have baby names picked out? I know what I'd name my kids IF I actually wanted any, yeah, but I don't. Do you think guys with long hair are attractive? Yessss, I love long hair on guys. Are any of your siblings taller than you? I think Ashley is a liiiiil bit taller? I know my brother is, for sure. Have you ever scared someone so badly that they cried? Yikes, no. When was the last time you wore high heels? Boy oh boy, no idea. Is there someone that you want to hurt right now? Jeez, no thanks. What was the most interesting or colorful birthday cake you’ve had? I don't remember, but I'm sure something from childhood. What was the last thing someone bought you? Was it expensive? Mom bought me food from McD's, which obviously isn't expensive. Do you have any interesting moles anywhere you don’t want people to know of? No. Have you ever gotten high or drunk in a really formal place? Strong "no" there. Do you ever write poetry and post it on any certain websites? On the very rare occasion I write poetry and actually like it, I'll sometimes post it on dA. What do you miss most about your childhood? Actually, genuinely having fun and not dealing with fucking anhedonia. Would you like to know the precise date of your future death? Hell no. Do you photograph well? I'd like to hope so. Are there any animals you flat out refuse to touch? Maggots and similar bug larvae. What super power would you refuse, if it was offered to you, and why? Mind reading. It just sounds... awful and overwhelming. What’s your favorite discontinued product that you wish would come back? Oh, I KNOW I have answers to this, just none are coming to me immediately and I don't feel like sitting here for five minutes thinking about it. If adults had show and tell, what would you bring into work? My snek! :') If you had a reset button for the last 10 years, would you press it? Tempting, but... I don't think I would. I cannot go through how deep my depression was again. Who is someone you would never swear in front of? My nieces and nephew. Yes, I don't believe in profanity being a "thing" and is just a stupid human fabrication, but nevertheless I acknowledge societal standards and expectations, and they're way too young to get when you shouldn't say something like that and why. Have you ever won a contest or competition? A few. Who is your favorite TV character? I don't think I really have one? Do you coo over other people’s babies? Not really, no. Sometimes I'll think they're super cute and be like "awww," but I don't like... squeal and spaz like some people do. What is something that makes you very squeamish? VOMIT. Has there been a celebrity death that really affected you? Steve Irwin got me deeper than anyone else. Chester Bennington hit real hard, too. If you’re out of high school, have you stayed in touch with your high school friends? If you’re still in school, do you think you will? Most of my closest ones, yes, at least via Facebook. What’s a movie that you want to see? Old movie, but Jacob's Ladder. It was a massive influence on Silent Hill, so naturally, I'll probably love it. It's a classic, anyway. Do you use the same username everywhere online or do you have a lot? I use "Ozzkat" in most places, but I do have some other ones for different sites. Who was the last person you know who became pregnant? My friend Ana recently revealed she's expecting her second child, a boy. What fad were you actually into? I have zero clue. Have you ever tailgated? Would you want to? Fuck no. That's how so many wrecks happen. My sister legit got in a wreck with an 18-wheeler mostly because she was tailgating (which she does BADLY); she was trying to pass, and he moved over at the same time because he couldn't see her coming around. It's a borderline miracle she got out with only some cuts, bruises, and a seatbelt burn. Have patience, people. Get off cars' asses. Why did you fall for the last person romantically? Look, don't get me started on this. There are a shitload of reasons and I have been way too emotional over this the past few days laksdfja;lwke What’s the last thing you had to eat? A bagel w/ cream cheese for breakfast. Do you ever pick up your house phone? We don't have a landline phone. Truth be told, are you more into looks or personalities the most? Personalities, for sure. I cannot be into you if your personality isn't attractive.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

all we can do

Prompt: carry/support (alt no.15)

Whumpee: Kurt Wallander

Fandom: Young Wallander

welcome back to my second fic for a fandom that barely exists! i finished the show today and i felt like we got so robbed of an ending that like. properly Dealt with the fallout of the explosion so i did this. unfortunately it’s not very good but oh well. what can you do. this is set in the night after the explosion and it could be canon compliant? the show isn’t super clear on the timing of everything so idk. whatever lol. hope you enjoy this if you read it for some reason!

Kurt is numb. His ears haven’t stopped ringing since the explosion. He’s still covered in dust and small pieces of debris. He sees the people around him cry, but finds himself incapable. He doesn’t feel anything. He’s running on autopilot.

His autopilot leads him to a bar, where he sinks down onto a stool and drinks and doesn’t even register the people around him staring and whispering. 

He drinks and drinks and he doesn’t know why. Maybe he wants the alcohol to keep him numb. Maybe he’s hoping it’ll tear down enough of his internal defenses that the pain of reality will come screaming back. 

Whatever his intentions might have been, he winds up drunk out of his mind with a bartender threatening to throw him out. He doesn’t want to leave. There are people here. If he leaves, he will be alone with himself, and he thinks that that is a remarkably bad idea at the moment.

But the bartender keeps insisting that he leave. That he’s had enough to drink. Finally, he asks if there’s someone he can call, and Kurt thinks, of course, of Reza.

His friend picks up on the first ring, asking him something like, are you all right? 

“No, I’m smashed,” Kurt says. He thinks that’s kind of funny, for reasons he can’t explain. He laughs. “I’m so fucking drunk, Rez.”

He hears Reza say something, muffled. Then he hears Jasmine’s voice reply. “Hi, Jasmine,” he calls, and the bartender snaps at him to be quieter.

“Hey, Kurt,” Jasmine says, sounding subdued. 

“Did you hear Hemberg got blown up?” he asks, because he knows she has. 

“I did,” she says, and then Reza is back speaking to him. “I’m comin’ to get you, alright?”

He nods, and then says, “yeah,” when his alcohol-soaked brain reminds him that he can’t be seen over the phone. He hangs up, and then just sits there. 

He stares at the ground, watching Gustav Munck’s car explode, hearing his own voice yell to Hemberg, over and over again, until a hand on his shoulder jolts him out of his memories.

Reza is standing there, and there’s this terrible look on his face and for a second Kurt tries to think of why, and then remembers. “It’s so sad, isn’t it,” he says. “One second, you’re there, and then...boom. Just like that, Rez. Boom.” The car explodes again. He tastes smoke. 

Reza flinches a little at Kurt’s words. “You’re drunk, Kurt,” he says. “Come with me.”

“I am drunk,” Kurt replies. “I’m drunk and I can’t feel anything, Rez. Nothing.”

“I know. Let’s get you up, yeah?”

And then Reza’s arm is under his own, and he’s being lifted to his feet. The sudden change in position makes him dizzy, and he nearly collapses, saved only by Reza’s arm around him. 

The walk out of the bar is extremely difficult. Kurt barely does any work at all, fully supported by Reza, who is half-dragging him along. All the while, Kurt is talking about Hemberg, Munck, the explosion, in a neverending circle, and all the while, the car explodes in front of him, and smoke fills his field of vision.

The car ride is silent. Kurt is staring out the window without seeing anything but flames. Reza is avoiding looking over at his best friend, hating what he knows he’ll see. Kurt’s in shock, he’d recognized that the second he’d called. Kurt can’t feel anything, and he’s too drunk to understand the words he’s saying, which are belaying how he feels under the layers of alcohol and shock. 

Reza pulls to a stop at his house and opens the passenger door, but Kurt remains in his seat. Reza can’t tell if he looks worse than he did in the bar, or if it’s just the light from the car illuminating how badly he’s looked all this time: caked in residue from the explosion, because he’d refused to go to the hospital. Pale as hell, because his boss is dead, because he hasn’t caught the man responsible. Half-asleep, because he’d decided to go get drunk instead of do something as reasonable as reach out. 

He pulls Kurt gently out of the car, hearing the other man make a faint, unconscious noise of pain, the first indication that he’s in any kind of pain at all. Reza looks him over worriedly, checking for any injury that Kurt had somehow not realized he’d gotten.

Sure enough, there’s a splotch of red slowly seeping through his shirt. “You’re bleeding, man, you know that?” Reza asks, sure that the answer will be no.

“I dunno,” says Kurt. “Don’t feel anything.”

“Can you walk?”

“I dunno,” is Kurt’s answer, again. 

“If you’re not walking, I swear I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you inside,” Reza says, intending to say it as a threat.

It’s clearly not received that way. “Okay,” Kurt says, and he makes no move to stand.

Reza sighs briefly before reaching down and picking Kurt up, trying to be mindful of whatever injury he has. He carries Kurt up to the front door, and wonders, vaguely, if he’s always been this light.

He opens the door with the hand not holding onto Kurt, then shuffles inside and into the living room, setting Kurt down on the couch carefully. 

Jasmine comes out of their room then, gasping aloud when she sees the man on her couch. “Kurt,” she says, softly, and goes to sit down next to him, putting a hand on his smudged cheek. 

“He’s been like this since...since the explosion?” she asks, turning to Reza. 

“Wouldn’t let anyone touch him,” Reza confirms. “He’s in shock, I think. Says he can’t feel anything.”

“He’s bleeding.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Kurt interrupts. “Hi, Jasmine. Good to see you.”

She gives him a sad smile. “Hi, Kurt.”

Reza comes and sits down on his other side, reaching out to remove Kurt’s jacket, and then his shirt.

“What’re you doing?” Kurt questions.

“Figuring out why you’re bleeding,” is Reza’s reply, and Kurt lapses into silence.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he repeats, after a moment of Reza poking around a thankfully-not-too-deep shrapnel wound. “It doesn’t hurt, Reza, why doesn’t it hurt?”

Reza stops what he’s doing and looks into Kurt’s face, seeing emotion there for the first time. His eyes are wet with as-yet-unshed tears, and although his statements are to the contrary, he looks so incredibly pained. 

“It doesn’t hurt because you’re in shock,” Reza explains gently, as Jasmine takes over tending to his wound. Kurt looks at the floor. The car has stopped exploding, but still, all he can smell is smoke. 

“Can you make it stop?” he asks, not really sure what it is he’s referring to. 

“You’ll come out of it on your own,” Reza says, wishing he could say something more comforting. “Dunno if you’ll feel better when you do.”

Jasmine finishes bandaging his wound, and for a moment the three of them just sit there, Reza’s hand on Kurt’s back, Jasmine’s hand in his hair. 

“Would you mind if we cleaned you up?” Jasmine asks, pulling a piece of something out of Kurt’s hair. 

Kurt shrugs. He doesn’t care. He pokes at the newly-bandaged gash in his stomach, wishing that he could feel it. Reza’s hand pulls him away from that particular task, and he feels Jasmine stand up on his other side. 

She returns after a second, and then there’s a warm washcloth rubbing gently against his face and another one dragging across his torso. Slowly, they begin to take away the smell of smoke that’s been following him all day, and by the time they’ve finished, he feels different.

Less drunk, for one. Cleaner, for another. But the most notable change is the sudden stab of pain in his stomach. 

“I can feel it now,” he says, feeling his voice shake. “Oh god, I feel it,” he says, and then it’s not his voice shaking but his body, and he’s crying and whimpering and in a matter of seconds his world has gone from cold and numb to brutally hot and painful, and then he’s crying so hard that he stops making any noise at all, and all the while he feels hands on him, gentle and warm, rubbing his shoulders and touching his face. 

At some point, the pain reaches a crescendo, and Kurt almost pitches over from the force of the emotions that are pouring out of him unhindered. Before he can, though, an arm extends across his chest and another one grips his shoulders, both of them supporting him, keeping him upright.  

Reza and Jasmine hold onto Kurt as he breaks completely, and they keep holding on when he finally cries himself to sleep. They share a look over his head. 

“Poor guy,” is Reza’s only observation regarding Kurt. “What a way to go…” he adds, shaking his head. He can’t believe any of this. That Hemberg is really dead. That Kurt watched him die. That his killer is most likely never going to be brought to justice. 

“I can’t imagine,” Jasmine says. “And Kurt being there…” she trails off, reaching out to grab Reza’s hand. “How do we all get through this?”

“I don’t know,” Reza confesses. “We just have to be there, I think. Like you two were for me. It’s all we can do, really.”

Between them, Kurt makes a soft noise in his sleep, wrinkling up his face. Jasmine returns a gentle hand to his hair, in an effort to calm him down without waking him. Reza places a hand on his chest, feeling Kurt’s heart beat just slightly too fast.

“I’m so sorry, man,” he says quietly, and feels Jasmine lean over to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

i’m very sorry if my depictions of shock were not accurate i did not feel like being accurate lol. anyway this ending sucks butt and tbh the whole story kinda does too...but whatever hope you enjoyed anyway? not that anyone is gonna read this lmao. 

[yulmoldauer]

some things are better left unsaid (Tyson Jost/Male OC): Chapter 2

part 1

Chapter 2

Summary: Mason has to deal with the events of the previous night.

Warnings: uh as you can guess if you read the first part, there’s gonna be homophobia/transphobia talked about. Otherwise, there shouldn’t be anything that needs a warning? If I’m wrong just let me know :)

Words: 2,319

Notes: I don’t think I have much! This is like a lot of flashbacks and I’m sorry but that's character building baybee!!! I promise after this it’ll be more present-based stuff. I just love the character and wish I could spew out my brain and make it understandable lol

Fuck.

That was the only thought Mason had upon waking up. The implications of the previous night hit him like a ton of bricks. His hangover was just an added bonus.

The party had been fun, obviously, but Tyson was still here. Tyson had seen his top surgery scars.

“When did you have surgery?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. A medical degree and some knowledge on what other surgery would leave these scars would be helpful. Mason really did not want to lie, but he wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do.

Being drunk wasn’t helping, either. In his mind, the world was ending and his career was over after the last fuck up that got him traded…

Rationally, he just burst into tears. Not a dramatic scene or anything, he just felt his eyes watering very quickly and suddenly the tears were rolling down his face.

“Oh, shit. Okay,” Tyson set the water down and hurried to his friend. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was- here, will you feel better if you get a shirt on?”

Mason only nodded, allowing Tyson to help him get the shirt on and pull him for a hug.

This just made Tyson think that the scars were from some shitty, traumatic event or something with extremely bad memories. Note to self: don’t fucking ask about them again was written in large letters in his brain.

He did factor in the extremely likely possibility that Mason was drunk and--as anyone with a brain knows--Mason was a hundred times more dramatic when drunk. Still, though, if he was crying, it couldn’t be a good thing.

At least Tyson had been nice enough to leave him some meds and water after forcing him to go to bed.

“You hungry?” Tyson asked softly from the doorway. “I heard you rumbling around in here, I wasn’t watching you sleep,” he clarified quickly.

“Didn’t think you were,” Mason chuckled. “No, I’m not hungry. Thank you, though. You can help yourself to whatever. You know that.”

“Yeah, I made some toast earlier. Fun birthday last night?” Tyson smiled and sat on the edge of the bed as Mason laid back against the headboard and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“You could say that. Thanks, though. Seriously, I had a ton of fun.”

“Yeah, of course. I didn’t stop you from posting anything on social media, though. I dunno why you like taking videos so much.”

“Then I can save them and rewatch them later,” Mason scoffed like Tyson was an idiot. After a few more seconds Tyson moved to get up mere milliseconds before Mason started talking.

“About last night…”

He hesitated, waiting for some kind of confirmation that Tyson was willing to talk about this. There was no sense putting it off, right?

Tyson just raised his eyebrows. “The scars?”

That earned a nod and Tyson sat back down.

“They’re… shit. Okay, sorry. I never meant to lie or anything--fuck that, I never lied. I just... “

“Dude, if it’s something you don’t want to talk about, that’s fine.”

Mason groaned quietly and shook his head. “No, it’s just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

“If you wanna talk, just say it. I’m not gonna freak out or anything. If you don’t wanna, that’s okay too,” Tyson reassured gently.

Truthfully, the curiosity was killing him. It was rare that an injury happened and they didn’t share it with each other. Mason took a few more breaths before nodding. Psyching himself up.

“They’re from my top surgery.”

Silence.

More silence.

Mason officially wanted to die. He was going to have to request another team change, go through the legal battle of making sure he didn’t get outed--

“Like…?” Tyson asked quietly with raised eyebrows.

“Like I had tits and got them removed the summer before I went to college.”

That may have been a relatively vulgar way to put it, but it was true. It was the simplest and least-awkward way he could think to put it.

“Oh,” Tyson nodded a few times. “Thats--I never knew--I mean, I couldn’t, like, tell or anything…”

“Yeah, that was the point,” he sighed and took a sip of the water on the nightstand. “Noone was supposed to know or be able to tell or whatever.”

“So literally no one knows?”

“Not literally, no. My family knows, obviously.”

“But the league?”

At the defeated sigh that escaped his friend, Tyson quickly backtracked. “You don’t have to get into it, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be prying--”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just… a long story that I don’t know if you actually want to hear or if you’re just being nice.”

“Of course I wanna hear, stupid. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

Mason narrowed his eyes at the name, but it was quickly followed with a small smile.

It did take a bit to explain everything, though. How he was drafted into his previous team, everything was fine, and then someone had taken an ungodly amount of time to hit the showers at the same time Mason had been in there.

“Oh, fuck! You scared me,” Mason huffed when he heard the water turn on just across from him.

“What’cha being jumpy for?” the taller guy laughed.

“I’m not jumpy,” Mason grumbled, turning the water off quickly. He wasn’t even sure all the soap was out of his hair, but that didn’t matter. He just needed to get the hell out of there.

“Are you okay, man? You’re being weird-” the other man asked genuinely and glanced over his shoulder. This had been at the same exact time Mason had been trying to just leave as quickly as possible.

There was a few moments of silence that felt like years as the younger grabbed for a towel to cover himself up.

“Are you--?”

“Please, just forget--” Mason tried, but the guy was already turning his water off and grabbing his own towel.

“No, I’m not fucking--are you kidding me, Wright?” he nearly shouted as he stormed out of the room with Mason in tow. “Are you actually kidding me? How the hell have you gotten away with this--”

“I haven’t ‘gotten away with’ anything, you dickhead. It’s none of your business in the first place.”

“It doesn’t matter, you don’t belong here. You know they’ve got the women’s league now, right? It’s not like-”

Mason just shook his head, staring at the floor of the changing room while they were both yanking clothes on as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to hear what was coming next, all the awful shit he’d say.

It wasn’t even what he was saying that was the issue. Mason had heard just about everything at this point and had always had a pretty thick skin. It was the fact that someone he trusted--someone he’d considered family at this point--was saying it.

Didn’t he realize that it wouldn’t be like this if Mason could help it?

“Hey, what the hell is going on?” the head coach cried over them, walking into the room. He hadn’t been concerned about the loudness until it was unbearably obvious that the shouting was getting increasingly angrier and angrier. He wasn’t about to bring up the fact that Mason looked genuinely scared, as if worried about his safety.

The other guy was pissed, going off about how he’d been lied to, he’d been sharing a locker room, dressing room, and showers with a lot of unkind names, and that he wouldn’t keep playing for the team while acting like this never happened.

They ended up in the coach’s office, Mason attempting to towel dry his hair while the other blew off steam. He just didn’t want anyone to see him upset.

Once they were separated, lawyers were brought in with papers and agreements, and the head coach asked Mason if he’d like to request a trade or anything. It wasn’t like he had the option to say no, but he wasn’t exactly upset to go somewhere where he wasn’t worried about going to the bathroom without getting yelled at or beat up by a guy way bigger than himself.

He remembered to thank management before he left for working overtime, it seemed like, to figure out who would take him on such short notice and mid-season.

He was a good defenseman, sure, it just wasn’t easy on such short notice. But what the star player wants, the star player gets.

Colorado was the quickest to take the young defenseman about a year ago, and the rest was history.

“Holy shit,” Tyson murmured after a few quiet moments.

“I thought I was done. I honestly didn’t think anyone was going to pick me up, I thought my career was over. Can you fucking imagine that? Retiring at, like, 22?”

“Yeah, no, that’s… fuck, dude. I’m so sorry that happened.”

“It’s fine, I don’t even really care. I’m happier here, anyway. Especially since it’s not like you’re saying I’m a creep or a fucking… whatever.”

“Does anyone else know? In the league, I mean.”

Mason nodded. “Took a different approach when I got here. Bednar, bare minimum management, and PR knows. PR because if someone ends up outing me, I thought it would be a good idea to have some sort of plan on what to do. And medical staff always has, obviously. I think they know more about me than I do.”

Tyson nodded along, looking at his friend again after a few moments.

“You want this to stay between us, then? Or…?”

The fact that Tyson was even asking made Mason want to cry again. After being fucked over god-knows how many times when it came to being trans, Tyson was the one confirming he’d keep the secret. He wouldn’t give anyone any kind of hint unless Mason wanted him to.

“Yeah.  Between us, please? I dunno, I might come out to the guys eventually, just so they know. I just… I don’t know what I’d do if they react badly--”

“They wouldn’t,” Tyson said quickly. “I promise you they wouldn’t. And even if someone did have an issue with it, they’d just fucking stay quiet. They’d be in the tiny minority.”

“I just don’t know if I can take being traded and going through everything again, Tys.”

At the wavering in Mason’s voice, Tyson reached out and squeezed his friend’s hand.

“You’re not going to get traded over stupid shit like that. Not here, at least.”

“You don’t know--”

“I mean, yeah, I don’t know a lot. But you already said that the most important people who need to know do, they’re okay with it, and it sounds like they’ve got your back. I’ve got your back, too. And if you end up telling the rest of the guys, they’ll have your back too. Even if you end up not telling them, I’m still here for you, man.”

Mason felt about eight tons of weight fall off his shoulders at that. How did he end up with such an amazing friend?

“I just can’t really come out publicly for… I dunno. A while. Ever, maybe? I don’t know.”

“That’s gotta suck. I mean, everyone’s got their shit they want to keep private but… I dunno what I’d do if I literally couldn’t talk about something.”

Especially with how amazing it would be if Mason was able to be that representation for kids like he was who want to play hockey, Tyson thought. The amount of LGBT kids and teenagers who get driven out of hockey is immense, that’s never been a secret. To see an LGBT guy do so well would be amazing, it just sucked it wasn’t possible for Mason to talk about.

And he did want to talk about it. It would suck to come out and deal with that, but if it helped other people he would do it without hesitation. That’s the kind of guy Mason had always been.

“You’re sure you’re not mad that I, like, kinda lied to you about this up until now?” Mason asked, breaking Tyson out of his train of thought.

“Lie?” Tyson furrowed his eyebrows. “Not telling someone something isn’t lying, first off. Second, its none of my fucking business unless you wanted me to know. Even then, this would be a stupid thing to get in the way of being friends with you. I know you call me an idiot all the time, but I like to think I’m not that stupid.”

“You’re definitely not,” Mason chuckled, flipping his blanket off of him and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He shot Tyson a genuine, appreciative smile before downing the painkillers with some water. “Let me get dressed and I can drive you home, if you want. I feel bad making you wait so long,” he murmured. It was well into the afternoon, and even though Tyson constantly reassured that it was fine, he didn’t care, Mason still felt guilty.

It was very clear Mason was hungover when he and Tyson left the building and got into his car, but that was fine. It had just confused Tyson when Mason unbuckled in front of his apartment building.

That is, until he was pulled into a tight hug.

“Thank you so much,” Mason whispered. “Seriously. I… I dunno how to actually tell you how much I appreciate you being so chill.”

Tyson hugged him for a few moments before shaking his head. “It’s really not much to just… I dunno what to call it. Not be an asshole?”

Mason laughed as he let go, allowing Tyson to open the door. “You can text me if you have any questions about… anything. I don’t tell a lot of people, but the people who do know I’m pretty open with.”

“Yeah, of course. See you later, man. Go get rehydrated, okay? You look like shit.”

“Fuck you!”

[xelles-archive]

3, 5, 7, 12, 15 for the s/i asks ^^ pick whoever you want

hi ari! ty for stopping by ^w^ i promise i'll work on the asks y'all sent supposedly meant for f/ovember rhfhfifj

i'm gonna use kryxelle baden because they're the most i have worked on, hehe. i'm also gonna put this under a read more bc i got carried away whoops.

3. Does your s/i have a full backstory yet? Or is it still in the works? If it's done can we see it?

yup, it's technically completed now! though i don't really have a story or an outline lol. but it basically goes like this-

they were abandoned by their biological parents (they left them somewhere near shore)

they were discovered and soon adopted by a married couple (who happened to be both bakers)

they have an extremely supportive adoptive sister named samantha (i haven't drawn her yet but i have a tag for her!)

they grew up to be a baker (wow how susprising)

they were around their late 20s when they met jose

they met jose late at night near the bar he was drinking in

"how about you stay at my place for the night?"

"no."

the bastard was drunk, don't be surprised.

since they weren't interested in the man, they instead tried to hook up their sister with him.

... that did not work out so well.

they rampaged to jose's office and slapped him LMAO.

a few days later, they found out they were adopted by accidentally eavesdropping on their parents' heated conversation.

"they're the reason why our REAL daughter got upset!" (dad)

"but that doesn't mean they're not a part of our family!" (mom)

wowowow dramatic scene, they ran away crying and stayed on the beach for a while.

oh, what, tall lanky man to save the day?

they were cold towards him at first, but eventually warmed up as they started to hang out more.

the beach was like, a place they can run to.

don't worry, their parents alongside their sister apologized to them.

several months has passed and they eventually gathered up the courage to confess to jose.

*insert kissing scene*

over the next day, they were struck with the news that jose had a fiancée (the queen's daughter).

now this is where the song 'love story' starts to apply. :]

"since when?"

"just yesterday!"

jose tried to explain to them that it was a forced marriage arranged by his father but they wouldn't budge.

~dramatic running away commences~

jose hasn't seen them for a long time, and the day of the wedding came.

he was fidgeting as the marriage officiant was saying his thing.

he caught a glance of kryxelle at the very back, a disappointed look plastered over their face.

they walked away without saying anything, and jose had the biggest urge to run after them.

and he did.

his father was angry lol.

he was able to catch up with them.

"marry me, kryxelle."

"what?"

"it's you whom i love."

yay, they shared another kiss in front of other villagers! :D

jose's father was stomping his way towards them, they were expecting him to be angry but he cried instead.

he felt guilty for trying to lure them away from jose.

they finally got married near the shore.

a few years has passed, and jose's father suddenly disappeared without a trace.

it was a drastic time for both jose and kryxelle.

there were bad rumors spreading around, itching at jose's head. he started drinking more than usual.

fortunately kryxelle was there to help him.

soon, jose had to leave to look for his father.

though, before he left, he and kryxelle did some *cough* funky business. 😳

that's where he ended up in the manor for nearly ten years.

he came back to their house with louis being the very first to open the door to him.

he didn't know about louis being his son yet, and so he got tricked that kryxelle and their family immigrated (that boy lmao).

his worry was washed away as soon as he saw kryxelle coming out of the kitchen.

*insert another kissing scene*

turns out jose brought some comrades along (naib, kevin (fuck you kevin), william, and murro).

both jose and louis were shocked when kryxelle explained their relation.

and now they're all together again. happy family. :)

5. Do you speak about your s/i in first or third person?

both! but i mostly speak in first person because i feel more "connected" so to say.

7. Give us 3 random facts abt your s/i!

they have motion sickness (this explains why they don't go on jose's ship a lot)

they get flustered very easily, especially in public (which is why you shouldn't leave them with a drunk jose)

if they were able to arrive in the manor like jose did, they would've been most likely to be called the "Baker" (though i don't really know what their ability would be).

12. Can we see a picture of your s/i?

yah! i drew this in 15 mins lol, don't actually use it as reference-

15. Does your s/i interact with any other self shippers s/i's?

unfortunately no. D: i'm too much of a coward to ask fellow idv shippers, but god i wish. ;w;

s/i ask meme

[camillemontespan]

intoxicated thoughts [drake x camille] [2/2]

First part here if you want to catch up

This was meant to be a one shot but @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​ said we needed to have a follow up! So here’s the follow up! I might do another one of these, like a trilogy, but I’ve promised myself to stop doing lots of series. But if you guys want another follow up, let me know because I do have ideas. 

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol abuse

I’ve taken events from TRR1 and changed them, made them better in my opinion (lol I’m kidding). 

@moonlightgem7 @jovialyouthmusic​ @ibldw-main​ @burnsoslow​ @sirbeepsalot​ @dcbbw​ @saivilo​ @pug-bitch​ @loveellamae​ @walkerswhiskeygirl​ @gardeningourmet​ @katedrakeohd​  @mskaneko​ @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld​ @emichelle​

*******************************************************************************

Drake woke up bleary eyed. As his vision adjusted to the light of the room, he swallowed and gagged - his mouth tasted like something had died in there.

Turning his head, he realised he wasn't in his own bedroom. Wherever he was, it was not his private space.

What did I do last night?

The bedroom was clean and tidy. There was a dressing table with a make up stand om the surface and a purple dress hanging up against the wardrobe.

I'm in a woman's room. Oh god. Please don't be Madeleine, please don't be Madeleine..

He jumped when the bathroom door opened and out stepped Camille. She looked at him and gave him a weak smile.

'Hey Drake,' she greeted him. 'How are you feeling?'

Drake stared at her in horror.

I'm in Camille Montespan's bed. I have fucking woken up in her bed and I don't know how I got here.

'Um.. What am I doing here?' he croaked.

Camille sat down on the edge of the bed. 'You came to my door last night, hammered,' she told him. 'You said you had something important to tell me..'

Drake frowned then realisation dawned on him. Camille noted the haunted look on his face and reached out to touch his hand - Drake quickly moved it out of her reach. His mind was racing. He could remember now.

Fuck. I nearly blew it. I was gonna tell her i has feelings for her. Jesus Christ, I'm a fucking idiot. She's in a competition to marry my best friend and here I go, traipsing to her room to declare feelings. Shoot me now. Just fucking shoot me now.

Camille cleared her throat. 'Drake? You okay? Do you remember what you were going to tell me? It sounded serious.'

Drake shook his head fiercely. 'Nope,' he said simply. 'Can't remember Montespan. I was drunk. Probably was going to regale you about a new whiskey I'd found.'

He turned away, too embarrassed to look at her. He didn't notice the disappointed expression that passed over her face.

'Oh,' she muttered. 'Okay. You just seemed quite upset. Like you threw up -'

'I threw up?!' Drake cried. 'Aww man, Camille, I'm so sorry. Jesus. Was it bad? Was it really really bad?'

Camille shrugged. 'Nothing a deep clean couldn't fix.'

Drake turned bright red with mortification. He had thrown up in front of Camille Montespan. He had embarrassed himself.

Would Liam throw up in front of the woman he liked? Probably not since Liam rarely got drunk and was a gentleman. Liam didn't randomly show up in the night and proceed to vomit everywhere. Liam probably never vomited. But Drake Walker did.

What. A. Catch.

So we're leaving for Applewood in an hour..' Camille said delicately.

'FUCK, APPLEWOOD!' Drake shouted, bolting up in the bed. 'Gah, I need to get ready!'

He untangled himself from the bed covers and stood up, promptly slumping back down again. The room was spinning.

'Oh god..' He groaned, placing his head in his hands. 'Fuck my lifeeee....'

Camille handed him a glass of water which he gratefully took. Headache tablets soon followed.

'What happens at Applewood?' Camille asked him.

Drake closed his eyes. 'A lot of bullshit, Montespan. A weekend of never ending bullshit.'

Camille winced. 'Do you want to stay behind?'

Drake shook his head. 'No. I have to be there for you - I mean, Liam. I need to support him.'

Camille nodded. 'Well, you should probably get ready.'

Drake was preparing himself to stand up again when the door knocked. His eyes flew to Camille who held up a hand to reassure him. She padded over to open the door, making sure to shield Drake so the visitor wouldn't see him.

It was Bertrand and Maxwell.

'Little Blossom!' Maxwell trilled, his high voice piercing Drake's ears.

'Hey Max,' Camille said. 'Hi Bertrand.'

'Can we come in or are we not allowed to grace you with our presence?' Bertrand asked dryly.

Maxwell wrinkled his nose. 'I can smell sick..'

Drake wanted to die.

'Yeah I've been unwell,' Camille lied. 'Was sick last night, very disgusting -'

Okay, now Drake wanted to die.

Bertrand was instantly on high alert. 'Camille, you simply cannot be unwell for Applewood! This weekend is of vast importance, it could make or break your place in the competition!'

Camille waved a hand. 'I'm fine now.'

Bertrand instantly calmed down and went back to being collected and serious. 'Can we come in then?'

Camille, realising she had no choice, backed away to let the Beaumonts inside. Drake threw the duvet over him in a bid to hide but it didn't work. Maxwell clocked him.

'Drake?!' he squealed. 'Why are you in Camille's bed?'

Drake turned red. Camille closed her eyes, counting to ten, waiting for Bertrand to blow up.

Bertrand blew up in 3 seconds.

'Camille, what is the meaning of this?!' he thundered. 'Why is Drake Walker in your bed? Were you hiding him?! Why? What have you both done?'

Before Camille could protest, Drake dragged himself out of the bed and stood up, ignoring the spinning room. 'It's fine, Bertrand,' he said. 'Look, I'm fully clothed. I just got drunk last night and Camille looked after me. That's all.'

Bertrand narrowed his eyes and stalked over to Drake, examining him. 'Funny that you couldn't look after yourself in your own room..' He muttered.

He drew back and said grandly, 'Camille doesn't need any more distractions. She needs to focus on winning Liam's heart, do you understand?'

Drake nodded. Camille moved forward and stood beside Drake to defend him.

'Bertrand, he's my friend, not a distraction!' she protested. 'He was really unwell last night. It was my decision to look after him. I can assure you I'm prepared for this weekend -'

'You have another man in your bed!' Bertrand cried.

'Fully clothed!' Camille shot back. 'Nothing happened. And FYI, even if something did, I wouldn't tell you because it wouldn't be your business!'

Bertrand's lip curled. He moved closer to Camille and hissed, 'Miss Montespan. While you are in my care and representing my house, it is my business.'

Drake moved forward and stepped in front of Camille to face Bertrand. 'Don't talk to her that way,' he growled.

He felt Camille place her hand on his in an attempt to ground him.

Bertrand stepped back and gave Drake and Camille a simpering smile. 'Be ready in thirty minutes, Camille!' he told her. Camille nodded and took her dress to the bathroom so she could change.

When the door locked behind her, Bertrand was back in Drake's face.

'Do not ruin her chances,' he whispered, pointing in Drake's face. 'She is the Beaumont's only chance to save our reputation. Abandon any hopes you have that she will return your feelings -'

'I don't have feelings,' Drake lied.

Bertrand bulldozed through, ignoring his protests. 'Abandon the silly notion that she might return your feelings. It won't happen. She is the front runner in this competition. I'm not saying this to bring you down, Drake, I'm telling you this so you can face reality. If all goes well today, she will be the favourite and Liam will choose her in a few months. She will marry him. So stop ending up in her bedroom and stop defending her and stop acting like the lovesick puppy that you actually are. Just put your feelings in a box and accept reality. Can you do that?'

Drake thought of the whiskey bottle he used to ignore his feelings for Camille.

'Trust me, Bertrand,' he said coolly, 'I can do that.'

*********************************************

Horse riding.

That was the first activity the court had to take part in at Applewood. They were to ride along the cliff side, taking in the views and try to show off their best riding skills.

Drake instantly wished he could jump off the cliff and plunge to his much welcome death.

He shakily clambered onto the horse he was given and held the reins tight. As soon as he settled on the saddle, he knew this was a recipe for disaster. Hangovers and horses shouldn't mix.

His horse was called Rebel and he looked just as reluctant as Drake to begin the festivities. As Drake looked around, he could see Liam at the front astride his white horse, Prince. He was talking to Olivia who had sidled up to ride alongside him.

Camille and Hana were on their horses beside each other. While the other ladies had chosen to wear proper riding uniform, Camille, Drake noticed, had not.

Oh god. They're gonna eat you alive, kid, he thought to himself.

Camille was wearing jeans and a black vest top. To Drake, that was perfectly reasonable riding attire but then again, Drake never wore riding gear. But he knew the other suitors would be looking at Camille and judging her.

Bitches.

Liam signalled for the ride to begin. Drake held on to his horse, praying he wouldn't throw up again. He had a feeling Rebel wouldn't appreciate it.

For ten minutes, Drake concentrated hard on not falling off the horse.

He was actually a good rider which always surprised people. However today, his skills left a lot to be desired.

'Just go slow,' he whispered to Rebel. 'Nice and slow..'

'Hey Drake!'

He jumped at the sound of Camille's voice. He hadn't noticed that she had stopped riding so she could wait for him. Drake was at the very back of the group, depressingly so.

'Montespan,' he greeted her.

Camille began to ride alongside him. 'Meet Coconut,' she said, gesturing to her white horse. 'Isn't she pretty?'

Drake smiled. 'This is Rebel. He's not pretty. He's handsome.'

The horse wickered in response. Camille let out a surprised giggle. 'Drake Walker, are you joking with me?'

Drake rolled his eyes. 'I am capable of joking around, Montespan.'

Camille grinned and they rode together in comfortable silence until Drake broke it. For some reason, he always had to keep talking to her. With anyone else, he was happy not to talk. With Camille, not so much.

‘How come you’re riding with me?’ he asked. ‘You should be up near the front with Liam.’

Camille shrugged. ‘I don’t want to ride near Liam,’ she told him honestly. ‘Besides..’ she gave Drake some serious side eye. ‘Someone’s got to make sure you don’t fall off your horse.’ 

Drake smirked. ‘How kind of you.’

Camille stuck her tongue out at him before turning to look out over the horizon. Drake watched her for a moment, studying the way the sunlight hit her cheekbones, highlighting her skin. Her eyelashes cast long shadows across her face and the corner of her mouth was always upturned, as if she was always smiling. It was one detail Drake had noticed about her. He loved it. 

Camille caught him looking. Taken aback, Drake looked away hastily but in his flustering, he lost his grip and slipped to the side of his horse. 

‘Jesus, Drake!’ Camille shouted, catching him by the arm and hauling him back up. Drake turned bright red. Tomato red. 

‘Oops.’

Camille stared at him, aghast. ‘You realise I was joking about you falling off the horse, right? That wasn’t permission to start throwing yourself off it!’

‘You caught me by surprise!’ Drake protested. 

‘How?!’

‘I was looking at you and then you looked at me and it surprised me!’ Drake burst out, instantly regretting his admission. Camille pulled on Coconut’s reins to stop the horse from moving forward. 

There was a very awkward silence. 

‘You were looking at me?’ she asked. 

Drake looked down at his hands, then away to the view of the ocean below the cliff. He didn’t answer. 

Camille bit her lip and moved Coconut so she could move closer to Drake. 

‘Drake, why did you come to my room last night?’ she whispered. ‘You’re keeping something from me. Just be honest.’

‘I told you, I don’t know why I came to your room,’ Drake replied, his tone blunter than he intended. 

‘I think you’re lying,’ Camille said. 

‘Camille, why do you even care?’ Drake asked, losing patience. He didn’t like the third degree. He didn’t want to say something he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to be honest. It wasn’t the time to be honest. For one thing, he wasn’t drunk. Drunk Drake was more confident when it came to honesty. Sober Drake was considering suicide by cliffdiving. 

‘I care because you clearly got wasted last night and you turned up at my door and said we needed to talk!’ Camille burst out, exasperation filling her voice. ‘You looked really upset! I thought we were friends? I thought we could talk about things, you know? We talk when we go to dive bars and shit, so what’s the difference now? What’s bothering you so much? What is causing you to drink until 3am on a Wednesday night?’

Drake’s jaw set. 

You. You are the reason why I drink till 3am on a Wednesday night. 

But he didn’t say that. Instead, he jutted his chin out in the direction of the group who were now miles away from them. ‘You better catch up with the group or Bertrand will give you grief,’ he told her, his voice cold. ‘God forbid his reputation goes down the drain because you couldn’t perform well at a riding event.’ 

Camille narrowed her eyes. Drake was surprised when she leaned close, her nose practically touching his. ‘I knew Bertrand upset you,’ she hissed. ‘But just know that those are his thoughts, not mine.’

Drake blanched at her sudden fierceness. Camille drew back and kicked Coconut gently in the sides, telling the horse to go. Drake watched her ride off to join the rest of the group, leaving him feeling sick in his stomach and this time, not from alcohol.

***************************************************************

Best way to cure a hangover is hair of the dog. 

Double measure of whiskey. Yes, delicious. 

I couldn’t sleep again tonight. Why? Funnily enough, because of you. For once, it wasn’t because I dreamt of you, oh no. I haven’t even been to sleep, Camille. I’ve laid awake for four hours, staring at the ceiling, thinking about our last exchange, wishing I had just thrown myself off the fucking cliff before I even got on that damn horse. 

I’ve never seen you angry before. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I just got scared.  I felt cornered and I didn’t want to be honest with you because it wasn’t the right time.

It’s never the right time. For one thing, you’re in a competition to marry my best friend and you’ll probably marry him which means it will never be the right time to tell you how I feel. 

You make me smile. Like, I feel happy when I hang out with you. I felt happy riding our horses together today until I ruined it. I could’ve done without the hangover but in a way, your presence made it easier for me.

You watch out for me. You have my back. When I was at the back of the riding group, clearly suffering, you waited for me and kept me company. Was it pity? Or are you just a good person? The world could do with more good people so I sincerely hope it’s the latter. Also I’d hate for you to pity me.

See, I act like I don’t give a fuck about what people think of me but I do. I suppose when I was younger, I didn’t care, but as soon as my dad died, sister left, mom left.. Well, I started to think it was me. Like it was my fault. That nobody wanted to be near me.  Then the other courtiers act like I’m the shit on their shoe and I started to believe it. 

Pathetic, huh?

Another drink…

So, when I start hanging out with you, I want you to like me. But in the back of my mind, I keep thinking you’ll leave. Or you’ll choose to be with Liam. Why would you reject a prince for a pauper? Exactly. You wouldn’t. Nobody would. 

Camille, I expect you to leave me at some point because that’s what everyone else does. 

Why set myself up for disappointment?

Another drink.. Damn, I’m running out of this bottle..

**********************************************************

Continuing with my self loathing… I have walls. I know I do. I hate myself for it. But walls protect you, that’s the point. In this court, it’s every man for himself and I’ve learned the hard way not to trust anyone. 

I can look after myself. 

But sometimes, it’s nice to think I don’t have to just be alone. I like to think we’re friends. I like to think we could be more than that. In my dreams of you, you sometimes leave the suitor competition.  Other times, you marry me. It’s ridiculous, I know. 

I’m only human, Camille.

We all just want to be a little less lonely. 

***************************************************

Whiskey is the best motherfuckin’ drink on the planet.  

Dad used to drink it all the time. Can totally see why. 

But I’ve run out of this bottle now so I’mma look around for another. I’ve got one somewhere, sure of it.

**************************************************

Jesus, this bottle is fucking dusty. 

Double measure please. Block out all thoughts of Camille. No, Walker, don’t even think of her name no matter how damn pretty it is, DON’T THINK IT.

Camille, you so pretty. I love your eyes. They’re brown with gold flecks, like an owl. Have you noticed that? I think they’re astonishing. I KNOW. Isn’t that the best word to describe your eyes? Astonishing! 

I’d love to look into your eyes and tell you that but that would be weird and creepy so I’ll just settle for thinking about them.

I miss you.

I’m sorry we argued. I’m an asshole. I’m the shit on your shoe. I don’t deserve your friendship. Fuck, I actually don’t want us to be friends, I want us to be more than that! I want to be able to call you my girlfriend and go on proper dates with you and kiss you and tell you everyday how beautiful I think you are, inside and out, and how I love your laugh and I love your smile and I love the smell of your hair and I love how kind you are and funny and cute..

I miss you.

*************************************************

Camille earmarked her book and set it down so she could open the door. Glancing at the clock, she could see it was midnight. See if it was Bertrand coming to shout at her for looking after Drake, he had another thing coming.

It was Drake.

Clearly, he hadn’t learned his lesson from the night before. His eyes were bloodshot and red rimmed. He looked drunk. He smelled of whiskey. 

‘Drake, come on..’ Camille chastised him. ‘Again?’

Drake’s shoulders slumped and he turned to go. Feeling guilty, Camille reached out to take his arm and guided him into the bedroom. She gently sat him down on the edge of the bed and kneeled down so she could look him in the eyes properly.

‘Drake,’ she whispered. ‘Talk to me. What’s bothering you?’

Drake’s eyes welled up with tears. Shocked at this uncharacteristic reaction, Camille reached out to pull him into her and wrapped her arms around his neck. ‘Shhh..’ she soothed him. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled against the crook of her neck. ‘I’m sorry. I was an asshole earlier.’

Camille shook her head. ‘No, I was.’

She wiped his wet cheeks and looked him in the eyes again. He smiled sadly. ‘Your.. your eyes look like an owl’s,’ he whispered. ‘They’re astonishing.’

Camille blinked but her surprise soon faded and she smiled softly. ‘Your eyes are astonishing too, Drake. You know in some lights, they turn a different colour?’ 

Drake chuckled. ‘I.. I didn’t know that.’

Camille grinned. ‘Well, now you do.’

********************************************************

They spent the next hour curled up under the duvet. Drake, still half-drunk, let his arm fall around her shoulders as she sat propped up against him, reading her book. Sometimes, she would laugh and Drake would ask what was funny so she would read out a sentence or two. 

They didn’t comment on how intimate this was.

Tomorrow, they would continue as normal, playing their parts at Applewood. Camille would pretend to be a suitor wanting to marry Liam. Drake would pretend to be the best friend doing Liam a favour by hanging out with her.  They each had a script to follow. They could slip into these roles like putting on a coat.  They could just as easily take the coat off. 

As Camille read aloud and Drake listened, he realised in his drunken haze that this was like one of his dreams. Except, this time, it was reality.